

PRETTY 002

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Smashwords Edition Copyright 2018 Pamela Joan Barlow Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Old fashioned love story continues....

The tale of Tomcat and Duchess spans over fifty years.

Eckward is fifty-plus years old and ready to retire from his long-term working job, not his Bama buddy Teague.

Teague is newly divorced enjoying his solo life of freedom coupled with his twin partnership of fun with his buddy Eckward at the work place.

Eckward and Teague, a pair of FDA inspectors who are both fifty-plus year old dudes, friends, and partners work at the FDA inspection office in metro city Birmingham within the US State of Alabama. They have spent the past thirty years hunting down bugs, leeches, and gamblers.

Eckward plans his ultimate life-happiness relaxing with his family, drinking a cold beer, and watching the sporting game.

This week, in the great US State of Alabama, the top two sporting teams are vying for the National University Championship Football title.

Teague plans his ultimate work-strategy locating one of the twelve sporting game gamblers, residing in Alabama.

This week, the FDA assignment requires a FDA inspector to swiftly locate and gently remind the Bama citizen to honestly pay all their Alabama state income taxes on any major football gambling bet, if the lucky gambler has picked the correct winner of the National University Championship football game. Since, the Alabama governor and Bama congress people want a huge monetary pay increase next year.

The FDA inspector carries a gun, but does not shoot.

The FDA inspector carries a badge, but does not arrest.

And the FDA inspector cannot ask for any personal data which does violate the privacy rule that has been established by the US Federal Government. As the FDA inspector can become personally jailed inside an Alabama prison plus become fined with a huge monetary penalty coming out from their individual bank account.

Present day and place

Tuesday January 12th

02:42 p.m.

City of Birmingham within the State of Alabama

(24 miles, south, from Warrior)

Hidden underground cavern with red clay soil, gray limestone rock walls

Humid temperatures with damp air conditions

"OT..." I whisper and feel the burn on my left ankle bone while slowly exhaling, closing my eyelashes and relax my achy body. My mental mind continues to daydream away the clicking time and the physical pain, concentrating and reliving another specific moment from my past adult life.

Thirty-four-year-old Nadean and her four-year-old son OT

Saturday September 21st

05:05 p.m.

City of Coral Gables

House of Reed Stinger and her four-year-old son Reedy

Driveway setting

Hot temperatures and parted clouds of bright sunrays

I pressed the glass window on the driver's seat with my right hand, instead of my left hand, watching my son OT drop down from the van floor and then disappear into the open space inside Reed's garage.

Reed did not offer to drive her son and her friends to each retail store within Miami sitting inside her newly purchased expensive foreign car, but Reed did allow Nadean to act as the driver chauffeur inside the old van for her and her son Reedy during the day long shopping spree.

Nadean had stopped and parked her old van from her recent divorce in front of the garage after completing a day of shopping and babysitting the two four-year-old brats.

Reed always insisted that the dirty shoes travel through the unlocked garage door, not the front door of clean and roped off Florida room setting of her house. I did not complain but completely understood. Reed kept her house spotless with her little monster by roping off with an array of cords all the delicate rooms within her house from dirt and damage.

I did not.

OT had complete run of my house, even the master bedroom of his mother, except after eight pm in the evening. I needed my privacy and OT needed to sleep. I was smart enough, employing a fantastic team of mother-daughter to clean my nasty-ass house, twice per week.

The van door opened.

I slid out from the driver's door, standing and reached over, slamming the passenger door from OT with a shoe toe and a yell. "No pool, OT! Do not get wet! Stay away from the water, sweetheart." I grabbed out and did not tote but one of the numerous shopping bags of merchandise for my friend Reed in my left hand, hearing my son.

"Okay, Mama." OT yelled in a tiny alto voice somewhere between the garage door and kitchen space, disappearing further into the house of Reed.

I moved ahead and tripped over the low step advancing into the open garage of her house, every dang time.

Reed stood in the rear of Nadean's van with a sour frown and a yell, holding a set of clothing bags in each cupped hand. "Nadean, are you going to assist me with all the extra bags of my clothing and the boxes of my shoes?" She back stepped from the compartment and moved ahead through the garage space, toting numerous bags of her newly purchased designer clothes and new boxes of her designer shoes.

I led into the kitchen space with a smile, holding up my bandaged wrist.

Reed pulled up beside Nadean, nodding with a skull to the bandaged arm with a puzzled brow. "I saw that. I wanted to ask. What happened to your wrist?"

I giggled with a grin, lifting my homemade wrapped wrist bone into the air, carrying two bags fashion clothes in the other hand. "I was attacked by termites from an infected flowering plant and then tripped and fell inside my own garage. My wrist bone hit a protruded nail from one of the built-in work station around the wall of the garage," I turned and stared down at the dirty wrapped wound, not bleeding with a set of red blood proteins.

She turned and frowned at the wrapped wrist bone on Nadean. "O my gawd, you could have bleed out and died all alone inside your garage. Did you go to the emergency room at the hospital where you work for treatment?"

I shook my curls with a smile and a nod. "Drown it in hundred percent alcohol and then wrapped it good. One of the physicians inside my office examined it for me, since he is a nice man. He said that I'm fine. The wound will close completely but might leave a scar, since the skin tissue over the wrist is very thin."

Reed frowned. "If someone sees that white thing double over and wrapped around your wrist bone, a person might think you to be suicidal or something mentally sick. You should cover it up from an eye sight, Nadean."

Inside the master bedroom, "Naw," I turned and followed her wiggling ass through the garage, swinging to the right, strolling through a dirty kitchen with piles of dirty dishes, down a well-lighted clean hallway, and stopped, standing inside the archway of a master bedroom in colors of pink and maroon. Reed directed with a head nod toward the pink and maroon colored bedcovers in silence, parking the two bags of newly purchased clothing, but I knew the Saturday evening routine. I moved ahead and turned, stopping and stood on the opposite side of the large king-sized bedroom mattress, dumping the two bags over the girly ruffles of pink and maroon with a sour frown.

Reed and I had become gal-pals after Winfred had dumped my ass, before the black ink dried on the unfiled divorce papers about six weeks ago. I needed someone to vent my frustration and my worries besides a licensed State of Florida psychologist named Dr. Quack.

Reed had nicely obliged, as long as, Nadean continued to drive Reed and Reed's son to the Miami Shopping Mall, so Reed could shop with her credit cards, and Nadean could watch their sons for free of charge.

OT and Reed were the same chronological age, attending a different elementary school but enjoyed playtime together at Reed's house. Her house was similar in architectural layout like Nadean's with a set of four bedrooms, a set of four bathrooms, and a swimming pool but the yard was smaller with less trouble from two rambunctious cowboys. Both grass and water were premium commodities within South Florida.

People actually murdered each other over a large grassy back yard.

Reed tossed the lid from the box over to the side on the bed covers and fiddled with a pair of new shoes, "Two words, child abuse."

I opened the lid of the new box of shoes, seeing the smooth shiny black leather and size nine with a sour frown. I wore a size nine shoe, realizing that Reed and I were the same height and almost equal weight. I had lost a few pounds from divorce stress with Winfred and my new status alone. I had hoped beyond hope that my marriage would not end, but it ended epic and nasty. I lifted the shoe into the air from its box.

Reed looked up with a sour frown to see the invasion of the new shoes. "Don't bruise, Gucci."

I slapped it back down into the box, seeing the retail price tag of two hundred and thirty dollars, but thrifty Reed had purchased the new box of designer shoes for eighty dollars.

Once upon a time, I owned a full wardrobe closet of designer clothes, shoes, and purses from my Aunt Collie, all of her hand-me-downs to her niece. I had sold it all for money to pay my rent and my food in Birmingham, during my college days.

And I remembered, paying for these particular designer shoes, today, because Reed had forgotten her bank credit card for the fourth weekend in a row.

I stared down with a sour frown at the bleached blonde tinted color with a set of original black colored roots on Reed. "I am confused. So there is a child abuse charge against me. Winfred is claiming child abuse on OT."

Reed wore and modeled the new designer jacket with a smile, twirling around in front of the full length wall mirror. "OT has blue bruises." She nodded with a smile at the mirror, removing the jacket, placing on the bed that was full of designer clothes.

I leaned against the bed, folding both arms with a sour frown. "OT has bug bites from the big fat flying Florida mosquitoes. Dang, the bugs grow big here in Florida. He's a big little boy that climbs, jumps, leaps, soars, falls, and wrecks my house," giggling.

Reed lifted and examined the new designer skirt, part of the business suit. "Winfred wants a fight with you, darling." Nadean reached over and touched the soft fabric of the blouse. Reed saw the hand movement from Nadean and sneered at the silver tinted natural hair roots. "Don't soil, Dior."

I pulled back a hand with a fake smile, examining the item. The blouse was a size four. I wore a size-four, too. I said with a sour frown at the blouse. "He will get a fight. He didn't bother fighting for OT before the divorce decree was filed six weeks. Now, I am newly divorced for six weeks and Winfred wants OT. Dang," I turned and frowned, seeing her bloated closet that was filled with thousands of designer clothes. Okay, I exaggerate. The closet was filled with hundreds of designer clothes. I exhaled. "Reed, why do you buy all these expensive designer clothes and then don't wear them?"

"Winfred has financial backing for this legal fight trial." Reed looked up with a smile to see the nose profile of Nadean, turning with a smile to see the rack of hanging dresses with a giggle. "I like to shop for them more than I like to wear them."

I turned and frowned at her nose profile. "That doesn't make any sense, Reed. Don't you wear the outfits to your professional work office? Why does Winfred need financial backing for a legal fight over OT? I'm OT's Mama, one. I'm not a business corporation, two. I'm an individual with lots of legal connections, three. I'm a lawyer, four. Who is the financial backing for Winfred?" I reached out and lifted the newly purchased Prado suit. If I paired with her new yellow silk blouse with the black business suit, then I would look extremely hot, going into my law firm for my consulting job on Monday afternoon.

Reed tossed the lid and fiddled with a new pair of designer shoes, "His new and current girlfriend does. I'm a nurse at the same hospital, where you work. I don't wear fancy clothes on the nursing floor. Don't you remember anything from yesterday, sugar? Are you losing your mental capacity for thinking, Nadean? A divorce is very stressful on the mind and the body, of course."

"Current whore-mama," I giggled with a grin. "Reed, can I...?"

"Don't breathe on Prado, Nadean!" Reed sneered at the hand movement of Nadean.

I rolled my eyeballs, dropping the clothes back down onto the bedcovers.

Reed turned and walked around the carpet in a pair of new designer shoes with a smile. "His current girlfriend and future wife, she and her former husband have finally settled her divorce case in a court of law. She won almost everything single point. The child..."

"The house?" I frowned at Reed.

Reed removed the shoes and placed them back inside the box, closing the lid with a smile. "No. She received some of the furniture inside her shared house."

"The art collection?" I frowned.

Reed reached out and lifted up a new box, tossing the lid, examining a new pair of designer shoes with a smile. "No. She received all the nice stoneware from the kitchen."

"The speed boat?" I frowned.

Reed looked up with a confused brow to see Nadean, "Winfred has a speed boat."

I pouted. "O. Winfred took his speed boat, his sports car, and his furniture. How silly of me to forget. I came home from work in the afternoon, finding all our shared and purchased and paid off furniture gone from my mini-mansion."

Reed frowned. "Mini-mansion, your house is called a mini-mansion. Why didn't you take that speed boat and resell it for some big money, honey?"

I smiled. "That bitch-realtor nicely called my house a mini-mansion while she un-nicely tried to steal and sell it. Winfred and her eyeballs only saw signs of large dollar marks. And it is Winfred's speed boat. He paid for it. He used it. He wanted it. He got it in the divorce deal that went rightly my way."

Reed closed the lips on the new pair of shoes with a smile, "No. Sevilla got the old model van from her divorce settlement, too."

"So how did she win almost everything?" I frowned.

"She got half of the bank account money, honey. In Florida assets pluses liabilities equal fifty percent." Reed grabbed the three boxes of designer shoes and shuffled them into the wall corner, resting them on top of a stack of newly purchased designer shoes boxes from last week, shopping with Nadean on Saturday morning.

I shook my curls with a smile. "I don't think that is a proper accounting equation which filed by the GAAP."

Reed frowned at Nadean. "What?"

"GAAP, the term means general accepted accounting principals. I'm a CPA, a certified public accountant with money knowledge."

She smiled. "Any newly divorce ex-married couple by Florida law split assets and liabilities at fifty-fifty percent."

"Know that."

She smiled, "So Sevilla got half of her and his money, real cash money, not monopoly paper money, either, coming from their once shared and loaded retirement account. And it is cash dollars, too. The cash is Winfred's new financial backing for a fight within a new court trial over his son OT."

I frowned, "I be damned."

She gasped. "You be damned. Don't you have financial backing, a sugar-daddy in the South? You go up to Birmingham, Alabama all the time and OT comes back with tons of new clothes and new toys, to boot. Why would that be, Nadean?" Reed nodded with a smirk.

I frowned. "A sugar-daddy is available to a sweet girl, anywhere in the world, Reed. But I have an ace up my sleeveless summer last year's fashion sun dress."

Reed smiled, "Who is the male?"

I smiled. "The answer is what, not who."

She frowned, "A what?" Reed was the next door neighbor, the good friend, and a lady ally from southern Georgia that helped support the mental stress that Nadean was currently experiencing with a new divorce.

I winked with a smile. "Can you keep a secret, girlfriend?"

She nodded with a giggle. "Yeah, of course, I'm the keeper of the secret vault."

I smiled with a nod. "I was stashing and cashing a set of real dollar bill monies during my marriage to Winfuck."

She parted her lips with a gasp. "You get wind of the divorced from whom, Nadean?"

I shook my curls with a sour frown, "Naw, I possess and possessed a secret bank account that was filled with my cash money away from Winfred's eyeballs and nose holes that came from my modeling and my lawyering jobs."

She dropped open a mouth with a gasp. "That's illegal, Nadean. The IRS will arrest your fanny for tax evasion, girlfriend. Then poor OT will live with Winfred. You will never see his little smiling face ever again, Nadean."

I frowned. "Naw, the bank account is housed inside a legitimate bank that is located inside our employer the hospital. Don't you use the hospital bank and banking services, too?"

Reed frowned. "No, I don't. And I don't understand, darling."

I smiled. "Money comes to me. Then, me places the money inside me bank account, without him knowing about the monies. I got a bundle of cash, earning sky high percentage points of money interest. Of course, I do declare it all on my US Federal income taxes as a set of earned income, just to be legal."

Her son Reedy appeared inside the archway of the master bedroom, dripping water all over the floor and the carpet with a worried brow, "Mama, I fall in the swimming hole," he lifted and rubbed the kneecap with a worried brow. "Blood, I be dying, hurry me to the hospital, Mama."

I turned and shuffled around Reedy with a smile and a giggle, collecting OT and leaving the house of Reed for the evening.

Friday September 28th

07:46 a.m.

City of Coral Gables

Home of Nadean and four years old son OT

Driveway setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The van door opened that was parked outside the house of Nadean.

I stared at the van through the clean window inside my driveway, sliding sideways and opened the front door with a hand wave and a smile at my new house guests, "Hey, Vester and Vassar."

Vester smiled, helping their elderly mother up the front steps and into the house, "Hey, Sis."

"Howdy, darling," Vassar smiled and assisted their elderly dad up the front steps, following behind Vester. Vassar glided Urall to the bathroom and turned around, heading to the kitchen for beverages of the heated day of Miami for his parents.

I stood to the side of the open archway, seeing my family member "Hi, Mama and Daddy," then I saw a strange face. "You are?"

Jadean moved ahead of Vester and Vassar, strolling around the house with a sour frown. "Your cousin, he be your seventh cousin."

Dorcee entered behind the back spine of Vester, moving around each room, snooping around each room with a sour frown in silence.

Seventh cousin was a short, bald, fat, and pale middle aged male, saying with a nod and a smile to Nadean, entering the house behind Vester, "Hey, I'm a civil lawyer."

I pivoted with rolled eyeballs and worded in silence: seventh cousin. "Come on in." I closed the door and tossed both arms into the air, following behind the back spines of my family members, moving further into the Florida room.

The Alabama hillbillies entered the house and scattered to the refrigerator and the bathroom.

"Where's OT?" Jadean scooted around the living room with a sour frown and stopped at the non-movable first object, a table. This was her first visit to the home of Nadean and the State of Florida.

"Sweet tea inside the refrigerator, Dorcee," I stopped and stood between the air space of the dining room and the Florida room, staring at my kin folks. "School, this is Thursday." Vassar returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cold orange juice for Urall and Vester. Vester returned from the bathroom, stopping and stood next to Nadean, accepting a tumbler of cold orange juice, watching seventh cousin and the other family members.

"Will we see him this afternoon before Sims takes OT?" Jadean moved ahead, stopping and standing in front of the built-in book shelves, grabbing each object and examined it.

"Sims takes him? Yes, I will take him from the school and bring him here to the home. That's clever, Mama." I turned and smiled at Vester.

Jadean picked up every movable item inside the book shelf with a sour frown. "Nadean, you be very cautious here. This be a bad hearing brought by Sims against your mothering skills."

Inside the Florida room, I exhaled with a smile. "My mothering skills are perfect, since I got OT to say 'yes ma'am' and 'no ma'am' and direct pee into the round water toilet," laughing with Vester and Vassar. My brothers were the other two pissing males within my family. I reached over and popped the bicep of Vester, making him spill the orange juice.

Jadean picked up another item from the book shelf with a sour frown. "Nadean, you be joking like this. You be losing custody of OT, then what? What will you do? Where will you go?"

"OT ain't lost. And I will not lose OT, Mama. And I ain't going nowhere but to pee before we have to drive all the way downtown in Miami, Florida to visit the US Federal courthouse. Everyone should pee before we land inside a dirty courthouse building used by them shitty ass crim-animals."

Jadean dropped the object with a sneer, lifting a new object to examine. "You' be the mostest ill-mannered maiden in the land of cotton, Nadean."

I bumped into Vester and strolled forward in a pair of old heels with a smile and a hum toward the bathroom. "Wished I were in the land of cotton. Good times there are not forgotten. Look away. Look away. Look away," I dropped my voice. "...Dixieland."

Vester and Vassar spat up the juice with Urall. Jadean frowned and examined the new object.

Dorcee continued to bang open all wooden cabinets inside the kitchen, snooping.

I exited into the bathroom and slammed the door, pissing.

Five minutes later, I entered the room, moving through the room, scooting around Dorcee with a smile.

Dorcee stood and twirled her fatness in the middle of the floor with a smile. "Your house be real grand, Nadean. Ya got four great big bedrooms, each with a bathroom. Ya gots these one, two, three big rooms, looking like a living room with a kitchen, and a swimming pool, too."

I stopped and stood beside Vester again. "Did you bring your swimming trunks for the cement pool? The day's going to be in the eighty degrees, the pool nice and warm."

Vassar nodded with a smile. "I did."

I smiled. "Good, go for it, bro."

Vester turned and frowned at his brother. "Your skin will tint a light shade of crimson within this heated weather, Vassar."

Vassar moved and stopped, staring down at the window with the swimming pool with a smile. "I will be very cautious indeed."

"I got number ninety-nine percent sunscreen protection for my pinky-pink brother, Vester," I turned and smiled at Vester.

Dorcee stopped twirling and pointed to the walls with a confused brow, "The design of the three rooms look really funky, Nadean. What be the name of the room?"

I smiled. "Where are my southern manners?" I tapped into the empty dining room space, stopping and touched the tiny four-seated tall table with a smile and a nod. "This is a called the dining room which usually can hold a formal dining table of twelve chairs. Winfred took..."

"Stole." Vester frowned.

"...received, a legal term, bro," I moved and stopped inside the Florida room with the television and a new sofa, smiling at Vester. "This space is clearly the living space. You will note that I use the term space, not room, since the three spaces make up one big really ass-weird room."

Jadean scooted along the wall and stopped at the new table, picking up a new item with a sour frown. "I hope ya not talk like that in court, Nadean, such ugly language from a lady."

I winked at Vester. "You should've lived with Winfred for seven years. It was the common language. I recalled you approved of Winfred's Yankee ways, Mama."

"When ya coming back home to Bama, Nadean?" Urall sat on top of the new long sofa with seventh cousin, watching the new television devise, since Winfred took all the electronic devices, too.

Jadean picked up the object with a sour frown. "I not approved of Sims or his Yankee family."

I smiled at the rear skull of Urall, "Someday, Daddy. OT is a Sims, Mama. Please remember that, because I will be repeating that phrase foreverly. And I'm kinda half a Sims, sorta like me being half an Italian countess and half an English lady."

Urall sat and stared at the live television program. "When ya changing your name back to Garland, Nadean?"

Dorcee turned and strolled around the room with a sneer. "Ya ain't no lady, Nadean."

I smiled at the rear skull of Urall, again, "Someday, Daddy," then I turned and sneered at the big ass of Dorcee. "A whore would know that shared information." Vester and Vassar laughed.

Jadean dropped the object with a frown, "Enough, girls. This day be very serious for OT. He be losing his home and his family."

I shook my curls, "Naw."

Seventh cousin patted the wet lips with the paper napkin from the cool beverage, turning with a smile to see the nose profile of Nadean. "May I see the domestic charges in your lawsuit, Nadean?"

I swung a distorted face to see my unknown cousin, "No, seventh cousin! Did my mama happen to mention in her doggie begging that I'm a licensed attorney, too?"

Jadean picked up a new item with a sour frown. "We all know you don't practice your lawyering skill like that, Nadean."

"You have a bar license inside the State of Alabama," the seventh cousin held the tumbler in a hand with a confused brow.

I turned and winked at Vester, "Alabama, Tennessee, Mississippi, Georgia, and Florida," then I turned and smiled at seventh cousin.

Seventh cousin parted his lips, "You possess five attorney licenses from five different states."

I grinned with a giggle, "Yo, babe."

10:10 a.m.

City of downtown Miami

Miami-Dade courthouse

Family Court session

Courtroom setting of Nadean versus Winfred

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

After parking two separate cars inside the expensively downtown Miami garage, I scooted out the lead car and led my family unit, without seventh cousin, into the court room.

The family unit sat behind wooden railing on the side of the defendant table.

Winfred had served the family court lawsuit papers at the professional work place of Nadean inside the hospital. I was extremely mortified when the police officer stopped and stood in person and in silence inside my work office and then I had to file all the lawyering paperwork at the courthouse.

I was my own lawyer, defending the contempt claim with the bonus opportunity of questioning the son of the bastard, myself. I pulled out a paper note pad and an ink pen, placing the objects in the center of my blouse, cupping both hands over the paper, trying hard to look like a cool lawyer with a thousand and one fluttering butterflies inside a nervous stomach. I turned and stared at the nose profile of Winfred. He was sitting his lawyer Andrew Datello and his second wife Sevilla Sims.

I presented a stern face, nervously tapping both spiked heels on top of the wooden floor underneath the table with my first solo legal case as a licensed lawyer. I was a consultant lawyer with the prestigious Prensess and Prensess Law Firm within Miami, correcting misused and abused legal contracts with the proper words in the foreign languages of Spanish and French for a flat monetary fee without a court of law and a judge.

The side door opened.

The bailiff moved inside the courtroom and stopped, standing in the middle of the court square with a stern face, facing the court galley. "Please stand for the judge."

I stood with the rest of the peopled inside the court room.

The judge entered the court room and turned, marching up the steps, sitting inside a familiar judge's bench, slamming the gravel for the start of the new legal case in silence and faced the court gallery.

The court gallery sat down.

The bailiff stood in place, lifting and read the clip board with a stern face. "I call before the judge, case number 3682, Winfred Tanner Sims versus Nadean Orion Garland Sims."

The judge looked up with a smile to see the court gallery and the lawyers. "Good morning. I will take a few minutes to quickly explain that this is not a preliminary hearing, leading into a twelve jury court of law trial. This is family court. Mom and Dad are divorced. We are here today to discuss your child," he looked down and read the file, looking up to see Nadean with a smile. "Your biological child is named Orion Tanner Sims. Hmm, I can see that the child possesses both of your Christian names, just like he possesses both of your biological DNA strands. That does make me feel better knowing at one time both Mom and Dad shared a love with each other for their son. Now, I expect a clean cat fight here inside my courtroom. I might be a family judge, but I judge rights with an empty jail cell behind my bench. And I will not hesitate to order a contempt charge on either lawyer. That means for the lawyer's client both of you get to share a small cramped jail cell. Do you understand? Good. This hearing by me is to determine the best interest of young Mr. Sims. Please identify your persons for me. Let us start with the defendant table."

Datello stood from the chair with a sour frown to the judge, "Your Honor, if I pleases the court, may I remind the court that the plaintiff always goes first within every court proceeding?"

The judge smiled at Nadean. "Andrew, you are not as pretty as the defendant. Who are you, my dear?"

I stood with a smile, flirting and flaunting with my southern belle performance, "Hi, ya'll! "I'm Nadean Sims, mama of OT or Orion Tanner, sir."

The judge smiled. "I love your accent, Ms. Sims. Are you a southern belle?"

I giggled with a southern twang, "Yes sir, I'm from Alabama, but I just love South Florida, the warm weather, the hot climate, and the lush pretty flowers," sitting with a nod.

Datello wiggled inside the chair with a stern face and a serious tone. "Your Honor, our matter for the day, you have stated to me that your time is very limited."

The judge nodded with a smile. "Welcome to my courtroom, Ms. Sims." He turned and stared with a stern face at the other lawyer. "Mr. Datello, please present your first witness for the day."

Datello stood with a smile and a nod to the judge. "My first witness is Mrs. Urall Garland from Brier, Alabama."

I stood with a fake frown. "What the fuck?" I acted really surprised, knowing that my mom was testifying against me in a court of law.

Vester and Vassar had volunteered to drive their parents from the farm town of Brier to the metro city of Miami as Jadean spilled out all her inner guts on the long sixteen-hour car ride. So, Vassar memorized her every word. Then, Vester stopped the car for gasoline.

Thus, Vassar called Nadean on the local pay phone, relaying all the juicy criminal information to her for the upcoming family court trial at work.

Since Vester and Vassar knew how to illegal wire tap into a pay telephone, without dropping coinage into the slot as a pair of twin geniuses with 180-plus IQs.

And then the entire family bear clan of Garlands was spending the night over the empty floor of Nadean's house tonight for the long drive back home to Alabama on Monday morning, before OT dashed off to elementary school.

Datello turned and pointed with a smirk at Nadean. "Your Honor, my client doesn't wish to hear such rude obnoxiously vicious psychotic behavior from the biological mother of his only child."

The judge frowned. "That's mild. I hear it all the time inside this courtroom. Please call your first witness, Mr. Datello."

Jadean stood from the chair and moved from the court galley, standing in front of a set of swing doors.

I turned and moved, escorting my mother Jadean from the swing doors into the witness box, since she was nervous, griping the old purse with all fingers turning white. She sat inside the witness box with a stern face. I smiled and rapped a fist onto the wooden railing, "Everything's okay, Mama. Just answer all the questions." I turned and moved back, sitting at the defendant table with a stern face, since I was very prepared for this shitty moment as a real true smartass lawyer.

"Okay." Jadean looked at Nadean without a smile and a nod of nervousness.

The judge leaned over with a smile to see the nose profile of Jadean. "Who are you, ma'am?"

I exhaled. "Please tell the judge your name."

Jadean looked up with a smile to the judge, "I'm her mama."

The judge gasped and turned with a sour frown to see Winfred. "Mr. Sims, have you completely lost your mind? Or have you stooped so low to involve your former mother-in-law to testify against her biological daughter? When you divorce your wife, you also divorce her family, sir."

Winfred stood with a smirk beside his lawyer Datello. "Your Honor, I only seek to expose the truth here."

I stood and slapped the wooden surface with both palms, turning with a smile to see the nose profiles of Winfred and Datello. "And buddy, the truth will set you free. Amen." I tossed both arms, sitting back inside the hard chair, looking with a smile at Jadean.

The judge turned and smiled down at Jadean. "Mrs. Garland, welcome to Florida."

Jadean turned and stared at Nadean with a stern face. "Do I answer the judge's question, Nadean?"

I smiled with a nod. "Yes, Mama, please answer truthfully the facts after each English sentence from the judge or Winfred over yonder."

Datello turned and pointed with sneer at Nadean, "Your Honor, I will not tolerate disrespect to an elder senior in my presence."

The judge turned and frowned at Datello. "What is the claim against Ms. Sims, Andrew?"

Datello smiled at Nadean. "The claim is reckless endangerment to the child."

"Precede, Mr. Datello," the judge nodded with a stern face.

Datello moved from the prosecution table, stopping and stood between Nadean and the witness box, facing Jadean with a smile. "Mrs. Garland, do you know her?" He thumbed back over a collar bone to Nadean.

Jadean smiled at Nadean, "Yeah, my daughter."

He thumbed over a collar bone to Winfred. "Mrs. Garland, do you know him?"

She turned and frowned at Winfred. "Winfred Sims."

He pointed to the judge. "Mrs. Garland, do you know him?"

"Naw," she turned and frowned at the judge.

He slapped his shirt with a smile. "Mrs. Garland, do you know me?"

"Naw," she stared at the lawyer with a sour frown.

Datello smiled with a nod. "Excellent, Mrs. Garland, please explain to the judge what happened on March twenty third, two years ago?"

Jadean looked down with a puzzled brow to see her old purse. "Two years ago," she looked up with a stern face to see Datello. "That day, Nadean pulled a gun from her purse jerking it into my face inside my house."

The judge leaned over the bench with a stern face to see the nose profile of Jadean, "A weapon? I will take over questioning of the eye witness, Mr. Datello. Please be seated. Did your daughter steal the gun from your person, Mrs. Garland?"

"Naw," Jadean turned and frowned at the judge.

"Did your daughter steal the weapon from your gun safe located within your private residential house?"

"Naw," She frowned.

"Did your daughter shoot any person with the gun inside your private residential house, Mrs. Garland?"

"Naw," she shook her curls.

"Did you arrest your daughter for that childish stunt with the gun at your private residential house, Mrs. Garland?"

"Naw," she shook her curls.

The judge grinned. "Did you toss her fanny from your private residential house for that childish stunt with the gun as your biological daughter?"

"Naw," she shook her curls. "She's my baby."

The judge grinned, having to deal with some crazy-ass folks inside his courtroom but this particular one topped the wedding cake. He nodded to Jadean. "Please tell the court what did you do to your biological daughter, Mrs. Garland?"

Jadean turned and frowned at Nadean. "I went to that gay wedding at my church the next week in March."

I stood with a smile to the ceiling, tossing both arms into the air. "Amen, halleluiah, praise Almighty God, Brother Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, my mom always tells the dang truth." I swung around and smiled at Vester and Vassar.

Vester and Vassar stood and leaned over the wooden railing, slapping a high five with Nadean.

Datello turned with a sour frown and parked both hands on the alligator belt, staring at the back spine of Nadean, "Your Honor?"

The judge smiled at the back spine of Nadean. "Would you like to add to the story plot, Ms. Sims?"

I swung around with a smile and a giggle to see the judge. "It was truly a beautiful shotgun wedding, making all my blood-kin folks attend a wedding ceremony inside Almighty God's church in the small town of Brier in the great State of Alabama, sir. I wished that you couldn't have been there, too, Your Honor," sitting and smiling.

Datello frowned at Nadean and the judge, "Your Honor?"

The judge smiled at Nadean. "Before I dismiss the eye witness here. Someone, please tell me! Why this historical two-year-old event is somehow related to a contempt charge of reckless endangerment of young Mr. Sims?"

I raise a palm with a smile and a nod. "My twin brothers, Vester and Vassar are gay. They greatly desired to be married in the presence of their asshole kinfolks exclusive of me, right, Vester?"

Vester sat behind his sister with a nod and a chuckle. "Right, Nadean."

I smiled. "I'm first born kid of the Garland family, Your Honor. I keep peace. I am the volatile peacemaker within the Garland family tree that swings from vine to vine for both love and fun, but sometimes, I gotta swing that sharp axe at the diseased rotten limbs, cutting it off before the diseases spread to the other green healthy leaves. Then I gotta blow that sucker to the moon, right, Mama?"

Jadean looked down with a sour frown at her purse. "I be done here. May I leave, sir?"

"Yes, ma'am, you may step down from the witness box, Mrs. Garland." The judge nodded with a smile.

The bailiff moved from the side wall and assisted Jadean out from the witness box, across the courtroom, and through the swinging doors. Urall and Dorcee met Jadean at the swinging doors inside the court gallery as all three moved ahead to leave the courtroom, strolling to the rental van that Vester drove. The van was parked inside the Miami garage. They were going back to Nadean's house, waiting for the other family members.

Vester and Vassar were staying behind as both protection and support for Nadean.

Datello frowned at the judge, "Your Honor."

"I toss out the child abuse case." The judge saw the courtroom doors close, saying with a stern face to Datello. "Your next eye witness, Mr. Datello, I can't wait to see what family closet door you intend to open next."

Datello turned and grinned at Nadean. "Ms. Sims is charged with child abandonment on the night of August thirteen. Ms. Sims refused to pick up their biological child as the primary custodian parent. Mr. Winfred Sims' claim of abandonment is just and justice, Your Honor. This court humbly asks you to see fit and switch the primary custody parent-ship to Mr. and Mrs. Winfred Sims, immediately."

I turned and frowned at Winfred. "You are not only a silly idiot, but a stupid dipshit, Winfred."

Datello moved backward into the prosecution chair, standing and pointed with a sour frown at Nadean, "Your Honor."

The judge frowned at the nose profile of Nadean. "I hope you can back up those particular colorful words inside my courtroom, Ms. Sims."

I turned back and stood with a nod to see the judge. "Yes, sir, I can, Your Honor. My child visitation weekend got changed when Winfred begged like a dog for OT on the weekend of August thirteen. So, I nicely changed my personal plans for..."

Winfred stood and jabbed a finger at Nadean with a sour frown. "She lies. She doesn't have any personal plans. Her weekends are dead like a door knob. She doesn't have any commitments to family members or good friends or church services or..."

"Stray dogs..." I smiled. "Our son loves his dad and enjoys spending non-school time with his biological grandparents and three uncles, who all live in Palmton. But I digress. I received a telephone call to drive thirty-five minutes north of Miami and collect our child, who is sound asleep inside his warm bed, after midnight. Since my boy slept through last month's hurricane while dog drooling," I looked up to see the ceiling. "Thank you, Almighty God."

Datello frowned at the judge, "Your Honor."

The judge frowned at Nadean. "Is there is a point to your fairy tale, Ms. Sims?"

I looked down with a smile, rattling the sheet of paper with a nod, motioning for the bailiff. The bailiff moved from the side wall and stopped, standing in front of Nadean, accepting the paper. He turned with a stern face and moved to the bench, stopping and stood, handing the paper to the judge.

The judge accepted the paper, reading the information.

I rattled a duplicate of the same piece of paper for my defensive case. "The paper is named Exhibit A, Your Honor. I contacted my telephone company that graciously obligated me, with a proper nominal monetary fee of course, with every telephone number to and from my home address, since June, this year. I have highlighted in pink, since I love that color, the exact telephone call, pinpointing the child abandonment charge with the verbal command to come to Palmton or else. I own a landline that can be traced which is for your electronically challenged brain cells," I turned and frowned at Winfred. "Technology rules over you, yet again, Winfred," I turned and stared at the judge, rattling the paper again. "You can see that Winfred's telephone call came at 1:07 am the next morning for me to pick up our son. Because the special family occasion needing OT's presence was Winfred's second wedding."

The judge turned and smiled at Winfred. "Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Sims."

I rattled the paper for drama with a stern face to the judge. "I will back up. I drove our son OT to the usual neutral parking lot at a local grocery store to meet Winfred on Friday afternoon, right after school. Winfred drove away from me then I went home. Normally, I pick our son OT up at that neutral parking lot of the grocery store in the late afternoon around four on Sunday, giving OT time to bath and eat before bedtime. Since I am not allowed to park my vehicle inside Winfred's private house's driveway or the new Mrs. Sims will have my ass arrested for trespassing..." I turned and stared at the sight. Winfred was head bumping with Datello.

The judge turned and frowned at the hair roots of Winfred. "Is that an accurate statement, Mr. Sims?" Winfred continued to head bump with Datello.

"Jyes," Sevilla stood with a nod and a smile. She was the secretary-whore, who was fucking Winfred during her adultery divorce battle. The divorce battle was settled last month.

The judge frowned. "Mrs. Sims, you are not involved in this family court trial. Please sit your ass down, before I toss it from my courtroom." Sevilla sat down with a sour frown. The judge yelled. "Now, Mr. Sims, is this a true statement that I am hearing from the mother of your child Orion Tanner?"

Winfred and Datello stood together to see the judge. Datello smirked. "Your Honor, my client would like to hold off answering that particular question. We would like to you to hear all the other endangerment claims which should prove beyond a shadow of a doubt why Mr. and Mrs. Sims do not allow her near the other child within the Sims' household."

The judge looked down with a confused brow to see the paper folder. "What other child within the Sims' household?"

Datello smiled, "The other child is the son of Mrs. Sevilla Sims from her previous marriage. He is aged four years old and very impressible too."

The judge looked up with a frown to see Winfred. "The answer is yes and true," he turned and nodded to Nadean. "Ms. Sims, please enlighten me more about Mr. Sims' court approved visitation rights."

I sat down with a nod and a stern face. "Yes sir. You can see that I tried to contact Winfred's house on Sunday at 3:01pm for the pickup exchange, which is clearly marked in pink highlighter. No one answered the telephone. And I tried at 3:30 pm..."

Winfred stood and jabbed a finger with a sneer at Nadean. "I would like to point out how she harasses me when my turn to visit my son. She doesn't give me my allotted time with my son."

The judge grabbed and pointed the gravel with a sneer at Winfred. "Sit your ass down, Mr. Sims. I am conducting this family court trial. Once Ms. Sims has finished, then I will be asking you more detailed questions. Do you understand me, sir?"

"Yes sir." Winfred sat and head bumped, cheekbone kissing with Datello.

I exhaled with a stern face, "Short story, sir. I gave up calling at 4:59 pm. Winfred knew that OT had school the next day. Therefore, I assumed that Winfred would kindly drive OT back home for changing into his school clothes."

"Tanner was at his home, his second home." Winfred shouted with a sour frown from the seat. "He is four years old for gawd's sake, Nadean. The school children play all day long. They aren't robots, learning algebraic equations."

I turned and smile at Winfred. "OT can write a sentence with a preposition, a noun, and an action verb, tell tick-tock time, and count coinage and dollar money, compliments of the Miami-Dade public school system, a very good learning school system in the USA."

The judge smiled with a nod at the nose profile of Nadean. "That is a very nice to hear from a supportive mother, living within Miami. Is young Mr. Sim in the gifted program at Coral Rock Elementary School in Coral Gables?"

I turned and smiled at the judge. "OT is in the magnet Spanish program, sir."

The judge nodded with a grin, "Excellent choice for your son, Ms. Sims and Mr. Sims."

I nodded with a smile. "Thank you, sir."

Datello pointed down to his wrist watch with a sour frown, "Your Honor, your limited tick-tock time."

The judge chuckled. "It sounded much better coming from the southern belle, Andrew."

Datello frowned, "Your Honor."

Winfred stood with a smile. "Tanner attended his elementary school class on time at eight am as usual that particular weekday."

I exhaled. "Your Honor, I would like to add some additional information about the hard evidence highlighted on my personal telephone bill." The judge nodded as I smiled. "You can see that Winfred calls my house, wanting to talk to OT. That's wonderful. But sometimes Winfred calls my house at 11:15 pm or 11:46 pm at night. I have pink highlighted these particular times. Your Honor, OT is asleep plus me. I'm single working mom and I need my beauty sleep, too." The judge nodded in silence. I smiled. "I would like to point out that this was Winfred's wedding ceremony, wedding reception, and wedding honeymoon night. But I received the telephone call at 1:07 am as indicated on my telephone invoice. There were adults inside the house supposedly watching over OT at one in the morning being his two elderly grandparents and three uncles plus their spousal wives. If Winfred cannot trust his own family members to watch over our precious four-year-old son inside his own house during a family celebration, then I cannot trust them either. I request a motion of reckless endangerment of the entire Sims family. They would be limited with OT's visitation and supervised by me during san scheduled visitation..."

Winfred stood with a sour frown. "You're a bitch, Nadean."

I smiled at the judge. "And you're a bastard ex-husband, Winfred. Thanks for being within the same fucking ass club with me, darling."

The judge frowned. "Ms. Sim, I can clearly see your emotional concern in regard to your precious son being trapped inside a party animal house of his father. But there wasn't any type of incident or harm to young Mr. Sims. Therefore, I will deny the motion of reckless endangerment, but a good show, young lady." He turned and frowned at Winfred. "Mr. Sims, you have heard my proclamation. However, Ms. Sims has stated and proven her case, very well. For both cat fighting parties, all this information is being typed by the recorder and then will be filed within the courthouse for all people to see and read and review. And I add to the recording. Mr. Sims, she is the custodial parent. You are not. When the custodial parent contacts you, Mr. Sims will answer her telephone call or call her back within thirty minutes, in case it is an emergency. When the custodial parent drops off or picks up your son, Ms. Sims will park inside your private driveway for both safety and protection of your biological child. When the custodial parent is at her home after eight o'clock and one minute, Ms. Sims will not be disturbed unless it is an emergency. Do you understand all the new parking and telephone rules, Mr. and Mrs. Sims?"

Winfred sat down with a nod, "Yes sir."

The judge smiled. "Good, the child abandonment claim is dismissed. What's next, Andrew?"

Datello turned and smiled at Nadean. "I present another case of reckless endangerment. Ms. Sim is a lesbian, sleeping with her female love-neighbor with young Mr. Sims inside their shared love bed."

The judge turned and smiled at Nadean. "Joy! Ms. Sims, gimme your fairy tale, please."

I sat with a smile and a nod. "My loving brothers are both gay and happily companioned to their wonder mates, whom OT and I enjoy socializing, as much as possible. And my brothers have joined me today in supporting my mothering skills, regarding our son. To address that statement of a lesbian's tale, I did spend the night at my neighbor's house, who is a female nurse at a local hospital, because I was required to exchange the old door bolts and locks for new set of door bolts and locks on my house. I let the time sip away. I was at work and then at my son's baseball game. I arrived very late at the local locksmith's shop, after the store had closed. My nice neighbor friend was very gracious enough to provide a bedroom for us to slumber the night away in both safe and comfort, instead of going to a strange hotel room for the night with a four-year-old boy."

The judge turned and frowned at Datello. "Denied. Next!"

I turned and giggled at Winfred and Datello. "O! The mudslinging can't wait until after the rock throwing."

Datello stood upright from the hard chair and turned with a sour frown, jabbing a finger at Nadean. "Your Honor, Nadean Orion Garland is a drug addict. There is clearly documented the use of sleeping pills and anti-depression medication as prescribed by her psychiatrist inside her medical records on the date of May twenty seventh, this year."

I raised a palm with a stern face. "May I see these medical records, Your Honor?"

The judge motioned with a hand to Datello. "You didn't share your toys in the playpen, Andrew."

Datello grinned. "I didn't know the name of the lawyer, representing Miss Garland."

The judge frowned. "You denied Ms. Sims was a good enough attorney to debate your client's slander. Please show the lawyer her personal medical records."

Datello leaned over and handed over his copies of the medical records to Nadean with a sneer.

I stood and accepted the medical records without a sneer, scooting back, sitting down and studied the papers.

The judge stared down at the hair roots of Nadean. "Are those your medical records, Ms. Sims?"

I nodded with a stern face. "I admit that I did visit a psychiatrist after learning of my future divorce. The solution was suggested by a fellow co-worker who was experiencing similar chemical emotions during an individual divorce. The psychiatrist told me that I was depressed and defeated. She prescribed a bottle of medication."

Winfred stood with a sneer, jabbing a finger at Nadean with a sour frown. "I tell the truth. Nadean is a drug addict, since May of this year. I had filed the divorce decree, getting away from her and her drugs." He sat with a nod and a grin, crossing both arms in victory.

I reached down into my purse and lifted up the object with a smile to see the judge. "I hold in a right hand the medication bottle from the licensed Florida psychiatric. I admit that I stupidity filled the drug medication, but I did not stupidity eat the pills." I motioned with a hand. The bailiff moved from the wall and stopped, standing in front of Nadean. I extended the bottle to the bailiff. He turned with a stern face and marched, stopping and stood in front of the bench, lifting the bottle over the surface in silence.

I said to the judge. "I present Exhibit B, my drugs. You can count the pills, individually. They all are accounted for. And, I would suggest that you call the pharmacy store and verify the number of pills and the date. Nothing has been eaten by my taste buddies. I quickly decided after leaving the psychiatrist that I was not depressed and defeated but simply divorced, a common trend, right, Winfred?"

The judge accepted the bottle and place on a pair of eyeglasses, reading the tiny print on the medication bottle. "Bailiff, please leave the courtroom and count all the pills inside this bottle. Please contact the pharmacy store using my secretary to verify all the clinical information on this bottle. And please report back to me within thirty minutes, if you can. Thank you very much, bailiff," he leaned over and returned the medication bottle back to the bailiff. The bailiff turned and left the courtroom, using the side door in silence. The judge turned and stared at Datello. "While we wait, please present your next contempt claim."

Winfred stood with a sneer, jabbing a finger at Nadean with a sour frown. "Nadean tried to kill herself. And let us all thank Almighty God. Tanner was at his school during the day and then with me that particularly deadly evening."

I turned and frowned at Winfred. "What?" I reached out and tapped on the new white colored bandage, displaying an injury that was peeking out from underneath the jacket for all eyeballs.

Winfred continued to jab a finger at Nadean. "Nadean tried to commit suicide."

The judge frowned at Datello. "Do you have a physical medical record, supporting that particular clinical claim, Mr. Datello?"

Datello stood and jerked down the jacket with a smirk. "Suicide victims do not need medical records. Suicide victims do not file for health insurance benefits. Suicide victims do not record inside a medical chart, the act of purposeful killing, Your Honor. I would like to physical point a finger at Ms. Sims. I would like for you to view her left arm, especially her wrist bone. There is a white bandage, encircling her wrist bone. This is my client's proof of suicidal tension along with the act of commitment."

"For poof's sake, Winfred," I giggled at my own silly sentence.

Winfred turned and frowned at the judge. "She denies it. She is in denial of her wasted life while wanting a dead death wish on her sorry-ass life along with the young life of my precious son OT."

The judge frowned at Datello. "Do you possess any type of medical chart or a record of the suicidal attempt which obviously failed, Andrew?"

Datello shook a skull. "No, Your Honor, because, she is the proof here inside the court room today."

The judge turned and frowned at Nadean. "May I see your wrist, Ms. Sims?"

I stood from the chair with a nod and un-wrapped the bandage, moving ahead to the witness box for the judge to see my hand. I stopped and stood in front of the witness box, leaning over, displaying my wound.

The judge leaned down, examining the wound with a confused brow. "Hmm, there is a shallow zigzag cut along the main artery of your anterior arm. What happened to your wrist, Ms. Sims?"

I back stepped from the witness box, stopping and stood in the middle of the court room, tossing both arms into the air with a smile and a nod. "Okay, this is really weird, Your Honor. I had purchased a potted plant, a green fern at the local Lo-Mart store. When I arrived home parking my car inside the garage, I jerked the fern out from the back seat of the car. Then the plant started emitted flying ants. You know insects? I became frightened at the flying bugs, batting them over and over from my face and clothes with both my hands. Then I tripped over my big feet, grabbing the horizontal wooden shelving inside the garage Then, I tapped an exposed nail with my left wrist. Ouch! It hurt and bleed like an artery. You can see that I will always have a little tiny scar from the healing process."

The judge nodded with a stern face. "That is weird."

Winfred stood with a sneer and jabbed a finger at the ass of Nadean with a sour frown. "A very weird-ass inventive storyline too, Nadean, she is a worthless mother to my only child. I want full custody of my son before she kills them both, this afternoon."

I waved both hands with a nod. "O. I have proof, Your Honor."

The judge frowned. "What proof, Ms. Sims?"

I back step from the bench, stopping and leaned over, pulling out a tiny slip of paper from my open briefcase on top of the defendant table with a smile. "My garage houses a telephone line with an old fashion telephone. So, I called and complained bitterly to the Lo-Mart store that sold me the infected potted fern. I didn't want the flying bugs inside my car or my garage. They were kind enough to send a delivery driver to retrieve the infected plant, since I threatened to call the police and EPA for foreign buggies." I waved the tiny piece of paper in the air near my smile. "This is my Lo-Mart store purchasing receipt for the infected potted fern, Your Honor."

Winfred slapped both palms over the table surface with a laugh and a grin. "That you carry around with you inside your business briefcase, both inventive and creative, Nadean."

I smiled with a nod at the judge. "The incident occurred inside my garage. I placed it into my briefcase to transport inside my house. So, I have the proof of the defeated plant. I paid with my check, recording the money. Then Lo-Mart gave me a check back for the refund," I turned and frowned at Winfred. "I ain't no medical doctor, but I work inside a medical hospital. Mentally sick people usually cut both artery veins, not one. Gawd, you're such a stupid prick, Winfred."

The side door opened.

The bailiff returned and stopped and stood in front of the bench, holding the bottle with a smile and a nod to the judge. "Your Honor, the pharmacy store has confirmed the medical physician and the number of medications. There are no missing pills. Ms. Sims is telling the truth. She did not consume a pill," he turned and handed the bottle back to Nadean with a smile.

I accepted the bottle with a nod in silence, turning and sat back down inside the defendant chair, dropping the bottle back down into my open briefcase with a smile of victory.

The bailiff back stepped and moved back into the side wall.

Datello stood and jabbed a finger with a sneer at Nadean. "She is a doctor. She can write her own medical prescriptions."

I turned and frowned at Datello. "Naw, asswipe number two, I hold a college doctoral degree in the study of physics. I cannot legally write a script for a bottle of vitamins. I am called Dr. Sims at my employment, because the hospital maintains a standard of respect for both the dying patients and the hard-working employees, attorney Datello."

The judge nodded with a smile at Nadean. "Thank you for that quick explanation, Dr. Sims. The claim is tossed out."

I turned and nodded in silence to the judge.

Winfred stood with a sneer to the judge and jabbed a finger at Nadean. "Maybe the prescription drugs are not her thing, since my former wife and the mother of four-year-old son has not eaten one doctor prescribed pill inside that medical bottle. That is because I now possess her real thing."

I turned and frowned at the nose profiles of Datello and Winfred. "My real thing is a real mommy to my real son. What are really whining about, Winfuck?" I laughed with my twin brothers, who both sat inside the court gallery behind my back spine.

Winfred exhaled in silence, smirking at the judge, lifting a tiny plastic bag into the air near his smirk that was filled with a small amount of stark white powder. He gently shook the bag with a grin and a chuckle. "I have bagged. Excuse and use the pun. I have bagged her real thing. This is a powerful and an expensive illegal substance that is called cocaine."

"What?" The judge gasped and pointed with the gravel at the tiny plastic bag inside the cupped hand of Winfred. "Bailiff, please go and retrieve that bag immediately. And I would like a chemistry analysis of that white powder as soon as possible." The bailiff moved from the side wall, stopping and stood at the prosecution table in front of Winfred with a stern face, opening a palm. Winfred sniggered at first and then placed the tiny plastic bag into the open palm of the bailiff. The bailiff closed a palm and spun around, marching ahead and stopped, standing in front of the judge's bench.

The judge turned and frowned at Nadean. "Ms. Sims, would you like to tell me about the particles of white substance, before the finished analysis of the contents inside that tiny bag?"

I turned and stared down at the table surface with a sour frown, slapping both hands over an open mouth, saying in a mumbled voice to the table wood. "Gawd, I am so embarrassed, Your Honor."

Winfred turned with a sneer, jabbing a finger at the nose profile of Nadean. "See, see there. You heard it. She admits it. She used the white powder and it belongs to her, her..."

I mumbled with a sour frown to the table surface. "Yes, I do use the white powder."

Winfred continued to smile and jabbed a finger at Nadean. "She admitted it. Did you hear her vocal mumblings? You are going to jail, Nadean. Illegal drugs are illegal."

The judge turned and stared at Winfred. "When did you find the particles of white substance, Mr. Sims? What place do you find these particles of white substance, Mr. Sims?"

Winfred smiled at Nadean. "I scraped the remaining unused white powdery cocaine illegal drug substance off the bathroom counter and down into the tiny plastic bag for further evidence of her drug addiction and her drug abuses at the hands of my only child, Your Honor. Of curse, it is only the remnants of the entire bag or tube or whatever, since I do not engage in illegal drugs or contraband, as such, Your Honor. So Nadean must have finished snorting the entire bag and left the spilled white powdery contents on top of the bathroom counter, hiding out like a thief or a drug addict. That little plastic bag is a powerful and an expensive illegal substance that is called cocaine, which she uses around my son. She has my son all hours of the day and the night as the custodial parent..."

The judged frowned at Winfred. "I know that fact, Mr. Sims."

I turned and gasped at Datello and then Winfred in shock. "You...you robbed my private bathroom. He found that white stuff over the counter space near the wash sink inside my personal bathroom. We each have a private bathroom. You entered and invaded my personal bathroom. Did you shit inside the toilet, too, Winfuck? You are lowering than a crawling worm, a slithering snake, a shit turd inside the dirty toilet, an as..."

"Not me, Nadean!" Winfred continued to laugh and jabbed a finger at Nadean. "Listen to her, now. She has been caught and captured with major trouble. You are going to jail, Nadean. Illegal drugs are illegal."

The judge turned and frowned at Nadean. "Ms. Sims, would you like to tell me about the white particles of the substance, before the finished analysis of the contents that tiny bag."

I stood upright from the chair and tossed my head back with a deep sigh of annoyance, whipping a chin down to see the judge. "Yes, I would like to explain that white substance. I am so embarrassed for me."

"Yuck." The bailiff mouth spat on the floor, shaking a skull. "This is not cocaine. I am trained to recognize by sight which is difficult and by taste most of the major illegal drug substances." He lifted the tiny plastic bag, shaking a skull. "This is not cocaine. I don't know what it is but it is not edible to the human palette, Your Honor."

"What?" The judge turned and gasped at the bailiff.

"What?" Winfred gasped at the back spine of the bailiff.

"Ugh!" Datello frowned at the back spine of the bailiff.

I leaned over into my open briefcase and stood upright, lifting and wiggled a white unmarked bottle near my smile with a nod to the judge. "I have the same white substance inside this white colored and unmarked bottle, too. Do you want to compare the tastes of the bottle to the tiny plastic bag, Your Honor? It is part of my defense against my stupid-ass former husband Winfuck."

Datello sneered at Nadean, "Your Honor?"

The judge turned and frowned at Winfred. "I am beginning to understand your annoyance into her butthole, Mr. Sims." He turned back and nodded to Nadean. "Yes, I would like to hear a comparative taste testing. Bailiff, if your taste buds could withstand another nasty favor. Go for it! Else, I will do it."

The bailiff spun around with a sour frown, moving to the defendant table. "No, Your Honor, I am trained to test the difference in chemistry type products. I will perform the job." He stopped and stood in front of Nadean with a stern face. She handed him the white unmarked bottle. He accepted the bottle and back stepped into the middle of the room, standing sideways for all eardrums and all eyeballs to see his reaction. He opened the bottle, shaking out a tiny bit of the white substance. He used a pinky finger and stamped the white powder, lifting up into a wiggling tongue and tapped the tip and mouth spat onto the floor, shaking a skull. "Yeah, that is the same nasty taste. What is this?" He turned and frowned at Nadean.

I giggled with a grin, reaching over and grabbed the item inside my open briefcase, standing upright and lifted up a pretty yellow colored tiny box near to my smile, pointing with a nod to the label to the judge. "I am so embarrassed for me and my asshole former husband. This is a cosmetic chemistry product to lightened hair on the biological body..."

"What?" The judge gasped at her nose bridge.

"What?" Winfred gasped at her nose profile.

"Ugh!" Datello frowned at her nose profile.

I giggled with a grin, waving the tiny yellow colored box in the air with a nod to the judge. "Yeah, the cosmetic chemistry product is legal. I purchased it at the local drug store around the corner for about six dollars and some odd cents. I have both the sales receipt and the used box from my legal purchase."

"Why?" The judge gasped.

"Why?" Winfred gasped.

"Ugh!" Datello sat down with a sour frown, looking down to see his notes on top of the table surface.

I exhaled with a puff of drama and a smirk to the judge. "Why, Your Honor? I found that my personal bathroom counter had been cleaned for some reason, since I don't clean it. I have an excellent maid service, Your Honor. The maid service came two days before. I just wait for them to return and clean my nasty bathroom. Thus, I was kitty-cat curious about the shiny clean counter stop on the top of my personal bathroom that was not cleaned by me or the maid service. I started looking through all my personal cabinets and drawers, since it is my personal bathroom that holds my personal stuff..."

Winfred sneered at Nadean. "Get to your point, criminal!"

The judge turned and frowned at Winfred. "Please hold all tongues and all questions until I hear every piece of evidence or every tongue waggle. This is not looking good for you, Mr. Sims." He turned and nodded to Nadean. "Please precede, Dr. Sims."

I nodded with a smile. "Yes, Your Honor! Anyways, I discovered and found that my white colored and unlabeled bottle inside the hand of the bailiff was almost empty, which is very strange, indeed. Because the cream is part of the two-step activation chemistry process to lighten both my arm pit hairs that I perform once a quarter, because they are rich dark black against my sun tanned skin. Anyways, the white powder was all gone from the white and unlabeled bottle. But the cream was almost full, because this was a new purchased that I brought at the store a couple of weeks ago. Thus, I suspected that someone else had been inside my personal bathroom. Our son OT is four years old. He is not allowed inside my bathroom or any bathroom alone. He is always supervised by me, his mommy. And he is too young at four years to reach a counter much less coordinate and wipe it clean with a wet or dirty towel. I brought the almost empty white unlabeled bottle which was resting alone and harmless on top of my personal bathroom counter, after I had discovered it almost empty and the shiny spot on the bathroom counter to embarrass my former husband. So, I rest my case, Your Honor. My arm pits are the guilty party here," giggling.

The judge turned and frowned at Winfred. He sat down inside the chair, holding both hands into his face, shaking a skull. The judge said. "It is a body enlightener product. This is tossed out. Bailiff, please return the bottle to Dr. Sims and the tiny plastic bag of white particles of body enlightener product to Mr. Sims, since I do not want to be accused of stealing something that did not belong to me inside a court of law as a legal law judge. Is there any more motions here to offer today before I wrap up this custody case within a few seconds of my wasted time here, Mr. Datello?"

Datello stood and pressed down the suit with both hands and a sour frown, staring at the judge. "Your Honor, based on all the..."

Winfred stood with a sneer to the judge and jabbed a finger at Nadean. "Nadean is sick, crazy, and loco poco with vengeance against me, so she attacked my wife, the new Mrs. Winfred Sims."

The judge turned and frowned at Winfred. "Did either one of you file a police report or contact the police about this domestic matter? Where and when did this occur?"

"No." Winfred sat down with a nod and a smile.

The judge frowned, "Why not?"

Winfred smirked. "Nadean attacked my new wife..."

The judge looked down with a confused brow, reading the paper file of the case. "You live inside the community of Coral Gables. Why was the Coral Gable police not called?"

I sat and smiled at the judge. "They were."

The judge turned and gasped at Nadean. "Dr. Sims, would you care to explain that statement to the court?" Winfred stood with a sneer, staring at Nadean.

I stood with a smile and held a new sheet of paper. "On the date of May twenty ninth on Thursday, Winfred and his family members were inside my residential house. I asked them to leave my house, when Winfred shoved me against the wall. Then he and his family members left my house. I filed a domestic violence call with the Coral Gables police force immediately. You can read the details on the copied police report that I have brought with me today in court."

The judge frowned. "Why did you report him, Dr. Sims?"

I smiled with a giggle. "I'm a bitch, Your Honor." Some of the occupants of the court gallery softly chuckled inside the court room.

The bailiff moved from the wall and stopped, standing in front of the Nadean once again, accepting the police report, turned and marched to the bench, handing the paper to the judge.

The judge accepted the police report, reading with a sour frown. "Quiet, please. I will have quiet inside my courtroom. At least, one person enjoys telling me the truth inside my courtroom." He read the police report in silence.

Datello and Winfred back stepped from the table and turned, leaving the courtroom to discuss the police report in privacy.

The door opened.

Vester and Vassar both leaned over the wooden railing into the rear skull of Nadean. Vester sneered into her eardrum, "Why didn't you call us, Sis?"

The door closed.

I stared at the judge, softly saying to my two loving and overprotective brothers. "I shoot, saddle, and spit. A little shove doesn't harm a true country princess. Stay cool, bros! I got my own set of glorious vividly red, white, and blue fireworks to light underneath Winfuck's ass. Then I will need your brotherly protection."

"We both are only a whisper away, Sis." Vassar whispered into her other eardrum, sitting back into the chair with a stern face and a worried heart.

The door opened.

Datello and Winfred returned back into the courtroom, sitting together at the prosecution table, wearing a stern face at the judge.

The judge looked with a smile to see Nadean. "This entire domestic claim is tossed out. Do you have any other domestic charges to add against your former husband, Dr. Sims?"

I shook my curls with a stern face, "No sir."

Winfred stood with a smile to the judge. "I want to re-open my divorce case that was settled on June sixteenth. I have recently discovered that Nadean possessed a secret bank account worth thousands upon thousands of dollars. The bank account was located at her work employment site. The bank account clearly entitles me to fifty percent of that single money account. Nadean didn't list the bank account on the financial page of our divorce decree work paper."

The judge turned and frowned at Winfred. "This is family court, not divorce count," he turned and smiled at Nadean and Winfred. "Dr. Sims, shame on you for fibbing. Mr. Sims, shame on you for believing the fib. Are there any more additions motions for me to settle today since my calendar is booked until the nightly news?"

Datello stood with a smirk to see the judge. "Your Honor, a divorce decree is all about the children and the assets. The biggest asset shared by Nadean Sims and Winfred Sims is a house that is located within the heart of Coral Gables. The house for certain reasons has yet to sell since all assets and liabilities of a newly divorced ex-married couple splits everything fifty-fifty. The house hasn't been sold, because Nadean refuses to sign a legal document from the selected realtor. Today, Mr. Sims would like that urgent matter addressed and resolved thus finally ending their divorce on paper."

I turned and smiled at Winfred. "Geez, Winfred, you can't have the child, so you take the money and run. You do know that's a rock and roll song? Take the money and run for them dang hills." I turned and smiled at the judge. "Your Honor, may I address this particular question please?"

The judge nodded with a sour frown. "I cannot wait."

I raised a stack of papers with a smile. "I hold Exhibit F, my abstract to my house. The legal document states that I own the house at 666 Leonard Lane in the city of Coral Gables. I hold Exhibit G, a copied stack of cancelled bank check plus the bank statement from my personal bank account, where I paid each monthly mortgage payment by me and on time. I hold Exhibit H, our executed divorce decree. I have two set of papers. One is for the judge. The other set is for Mr. Datello for my verbal explanation."

The bailiff moved from the side wall and stopped, standing in front of Nadean again, accepting the two stacks of papers, turning and marched to the prosecution table, giving the papers to Datello. He turned and marched back to the bench, stopping and stood in place, lifting the stack of papers for the judge.

The judge leaned over and accepted the papers, sitting back and reading through each paper with a confused brow.

I said. "Your Honor, I had to provide to you all these legal documents to make my law case. I have circled my name in each document for your viewing. Nadean Garland is the only name on the house abstract when I inherited the house from my biological Aunt Collie. Nadean Garland is the name on the bank statement and each signed mortgage check. I re-financed the old house, making some awesome improvements both inside and outside my home. Please note on the divorce decree."

Datello flipped through each page with a sour frown, "Jeezus, Winfred, why didn't you show me this before?"

I shook the original papers with a grin and a giggle, "Bingo, lawyers are smart asses."

Datello continued to flip through the paper with a sour frown. "Who wrote your divorce petition a fourth grader?"

I raised a palm with a smile, looking down at the papers. "O. O. O let me please explain the fucking legal boo-boo, Andrew. Winfred, turn to page four of our executed Marital Settlement Agreement and read the seventh tick! Good ole lucky number seven for me. Inside the equitable distribution category, the wife shall keep all her assets and the husband shall keep all his assets," I looked up with a smile to see the judge. "My assets are the house, the lawn, the swimming pool, and the mail box plus my car and my clothing."

The judge looked up and frowned at Winfred. "Mr. Sims, you have lost another battle. You are the petitioner of the divorce, working with a different attorney. His name is located on the second page. Your attorney guided you in the wrong different, Mr. Sims. He wrote the petition ensuring that each asset was safeguarded and protected by its owner, meaning Dr. Sims owned her house, first. And she will continue to own the house until the day she sells it, last. Therefore, you do not have any right to sue, sell, or stroll among her palm trees and her green grasslets. Do I make my invisible presence known here, Mr. Sims?"

Winfred said meekly. "Yes sir."

The judge frowned. "This is tossed out. What else is left to claim?"

Winfred said. "Based on the Florida Marital Law, the money is split fifty-fifty..."

The judge lifted and rattled the stack of papers from Nadean with a sour frown. "And your executed legal document mutes it and any other monies from any exposed or hidden bank accounts. You should have done more homework or more snooping before seeking out a dumbass lawyer, who has sabotaged your sinking ship, Mr. Sims. What else, Andrew? I'm getting hungry."

Winfred reached over and tossed an arm underneath the nose of his lawyer with a sneer. "Nadean has a tray full of antique gem stones, diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires inside a hidden bank safety deposit box at Third National Bank of Florida."

The judge turned and frowned at Nadean. "Where did your jewelry come from, Dr. Sims?"

I smiled with a nod. "I inherited all the gems from my Grandmother Garland, sir."

"Tossed out! What else, Andrew?"

I stood with a smirk. "Your Honor, I request an increase in our son's monthly child support monies."

Winfred turned and frowned at the nose profile of his paid lawyer. "Do something, Datello?"

Datello reached out and fiddled with the papers, not viewing the judge. "Your Honor, there is no basis for the monetary approval of child support. Ms. Garland receives...looking that numerical figure..." Winfred reached over and jerked the necktie of his lawyer with a whisper. Datello repeated the whispered word. "Six hundred dollars per month..."

I rattled the paper with a smile. "I have re-calculated the new monthly figure based on Winfred's new job position as the new president of Palmton Bank along with my actually monthly expense for raising our son, including schooling, clothing allotment. He grows faster like a field weed plus food consumption which is a direct proportion of his growth chart. I have provided the clinical growth chart by his personal medical physician." I extended the papers.

The bailiff moved from the side wall, stopping and stood, accepting the papers from Nadean, turning and moved back to the bench, stopping and stood, handing the papers to the judge.

The judge accepted the papers, reading through the information in silence.

Datello and Winfred were kissing each other nostrils, tossing a set of secret hand signals.

A hand slammed down onto my collar bone from Vester. I did not react.

The judge looked up with a smile and a nod to see Nadean. "I am here for the welfare of the child. I am pleased when both the parents love and care about the most important member of their family, their child. I will approve the monthly financial increase in the child support payment which is executed through the State of Florida child support intermediary department. Mr. Winfred Sims will pay each month a lump sum total of one thousand two hundred dollars per month for his biological son Orion Tanner until the legal age of eighteen years old."

Winfred sneered into the nose profile of his lawyer. "Do something, Datello."

Datello sat inside the chair with a smile. "Change her name."

"Beg pardon," the judge turned and frowned at Datello.

Datello smiled with a nod. "My client humbly requests to the court to change the surname of Sims, who is currently misused by Ms. Nadean Garland Sims, the former wife of Winfred Sims, modifying it back into her maiden name Garland."

The judge looked down with a confused brow at the paper folder. "Was that inside the petition for today, Mr. Datello?"

Datello shook a skull with a smile, "No, Your Honor!"

The judge looked up with a sour frown to see Datello, "Why not?"

Datello shrugged with a silly grin. "We just realized the oversight and humbly request the court to honor the request by adding a surname change into the petition, today, Your Honor."

The judge said. "No."

Datello nodded, "Yes, Your Honor."

The judge turned and smiled at Nadean. "Before I dismiss this court of law, are there any more accusations that we have not covered before I go to lunch? Good. Are there any complains any party wishes to express, before I go to lunch? Good. I wish you and your son the best of health, Dr. Sims. Court dismissed." The bailiff and judge exited the courtroom.

Datello reached over the table surface and grabbed his briefcase, standing and left the courtroom, without his client Winfred Sims.

The courtroom swiftly emptied as everyone else went to lunch also.

Nadean and Winfred were the last family court case for the morning session.

I stood from the chair with a smile, slapping my briefcase shut. Winfred turned and stomped over Nadean, running into her hair roots. I back stepped from his necktie with a sour frown.

Winfred sneered. "Fuck you, bitch. This is not over. I will have my son. You got lucky this time with your cute smile and your smart ass country back talk. You are a sorry piece of shit along with your poor hillbilly mothering skills. I will find another judge and carefully wait and watch..."

"...like a spider." I laughed with a nod. "That's a line from Hollywood movie 'Gone with the Wind,' dude. That you didn't like and then called Scarlett a bitch." I giggled with a grin and a nod.

Winfred back stepped with a sneer from Nadean, moving to stand beside his second wife Sevilla. They turned and moved ahead through the set of swinging doors toward the open courtroom doors and stopped, seeing a wall of muscle. Winfred sneered at the wall of muscles. "Out of the way, fag twins." Vester and Vassar blocked the open doors, since Winfred had clearly threatened bodily harm to their sister, regarding their nephew.

I turned and frowned at the Vester. "Don't touch him, Vester. Please allow Mr. and Mrs. Asshole to pass."

Vester stood in place with a sneer, crossing both arms, flexing his muscles. "I ain't going to touch him. I'm going to bust his nostrils and see them nose holes bleed red onto the polished marble," then her brothers side stepped and split apart.

Winfred and Sevilla wiggled both asses ahead toward the open archway, swiftly leaving the courtroom.

09:09 a.m.

Monday September 30th

Home of Reed Stinger and her four-year-old son Reedy

Front porch setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

My entrance door opened.

I stomped down the front steps of my home, marching down the vanilla colored sidewalk, toting a twelve gauge loaded shotgun underneath an armpit in the middle of the morning, using a vacation day from my work.

She was the leak underneath my sink spying, reporting, and stalking back to Winfred.

I did not have the secret tape recordings, because I did not need them.

Winfred had presented a set of verbal facts that I had secretly stashed cash inside my personal bank account at the hospital, where I worked.

I only possessed that secret information and then I stupidly shared my shared with my gal-pal Reed Stinger.

Stinger, her maiden surname should have been a red flag to my working neurons.

I understood now her husband leaving Florida, returning back home to the state of Georgia and leaving her with the child, best interest of the monster.

I stomped a pair of cowgirl boots up the steps and stood on top of the front porch, knocking with the cold barrel on the wooden door.

The front door opened.

Reed stood with a smile at first and peeing, second.

I laughed with an evil tone, hearing whistles and sirens of the police cars. The police department was really efficient, coming from the nosy neighbor's 911 telephone calls on each landline while pissing into the wall corner of the elegant mansions on Leonard Street.

I did not enter into the house of Reed, because that was trespassing. I was not trespassing, only pissing off mad for her friend betrayal.

Each police car stopped, sliding over and burning the nice manicured green lawn of Reed. Each police officer slid out from the car, squatting and aimed a loaded weapon at the back spine of Nadean. The closest one yelled with a sneer. "Miss, please step away from the door. Lower the shotgun. Move away from the old woman."

I reached out and held the loaded shotgun from my body, without getting shot in the back spine.

A second police officer moved and grabbed the weapon, rushing away from Nadean, checking the weapon.

Reed jabbed a finger with a sneer at the nose bridge of Nadean. "She tried to shoot me."

I grinned at Reed. "I'm a cowgirl and I don't miss, sweet cakes."

The first police officer moved from the burnt grass, replacing the weapon and stomped up the brick steps, standing behind the back spine of Nadean, raising a pair of handcuffs. The second police officer moved beside his partner and stopped, standing in place and held his weapon at the cheekbone of Nadean with a sneer. "Miss..."

Reed pointed down the street with a nod and a sneer. "Nadean, she lives three houses down from me, the pink mansion on the corner."

Each one of the police officer turned to see the house as some of them dashed down the street to investigate the home of Nadean.

I smiled at Reed. "Yes."

The first police officer moved between the nose profile of Reed and Nadean with a sour frown. "What's the problem here, ma'am?"

I smiled at Reed. "I came to retrieve my stolen items."

Reed frowned. "What stolen items? The bitch lies. She tired to assassin me. Arrest her ass. Get her off my property, now, sir."

The first police officer replaced the handcuffs back into the utility belt and waved off the second police officer with the gun. Both police officers stood between Nadean and Reed without a weapon but a stern face. The first police officer stared at the nose profile of Nadean, "Do you have some kind of proof of your stolen items, Miss Cowgirl?"

I held up the paper, staring with a smile and a nod at Reed. "Yes sir, I do. Here you go, sir. The individual sheets of paper are merchandise receipts paid by my personal credit card, delivered to my house and stolen by Miss Reed Stinger. I suggested crime occurred on the date of September twenty third. I was at my work. She was the babysitter, taking care of my precious son at my home."

The first police officer frowned at the nose profile of Nadean. "You invited her into your home. Why is that, Miss?"

I smiled at Reed. "We worked out a pre-arrangement of babysitting services for each other. We both are single working moms, living a busy life here in the Gables. We trust each other with our young boys. These days you just don't drop your precious baby with anyone person."

The second police officer nodded. "I agree with her. You don't dump your child with a girl around the block, teen or adult. That's a valid reason for Ms. Stinger being inside your house."

The first police officer read the papers with a confused brow. "Miss, this list is long with dresses, purses, shoes, suits, mostly clothes."

I nodded with a smile to Reed. "Yes sir, officer, most of the merchandise is clothing, shoes, purses of high designer qualify. High fashion, I guess is the term. Miss Reed and I are shoppers and babysitter for our children, since we are both divorced. We tend to be like all females of the world and spend way too much time at Miami Mall retail shops."

"There are sixteen pages of design brands. Gucci. Prado. Dior. So can you show me one of these clothing items? Then I might be more convinced to believe your legal case, Miss..."

Reed sneered. "Nadean Traitor."

I grinned. "Hell, naw, that ain't my name. But her last name is Stinger." I heard a set of soft chuckles from the gathered police officers. "May I enter, Reed?"

Reed crossed both arms, shaking her curls, blocking the door. "Absolutootly not, arrest her ass, now, officer."

The first police officer pointed down at the papers with a stern face. "Ma'am, she has a good claim..."

Reed sneered. "Good theory?"

The first police officer asked. "Were you inside Miss Cowgirl's house on September twenty third, performing babysitting duties with her son?"

Reed nodded. "Yeah, I was there with my son Reedy and her boy. She had a business conference."

The first police officer nodded. "Well then, she has a great claim. Please allow me to enter your house. Can you kindly show me...?"

"No," Reed shook her curls. "No, she cannot enter my house but any police officer is welcomed."

The first police officer frowned. "I am sorry, ma'am. I really need her assistance unless you can locate some of the items on the store receipts."

Reed shook her curls. "The police officer can enter and locate all these items. I have all day here."

The first police officer frowned. "I can't be here all day, ma'am."

Reed shook her curls. "My answer is no."

The second police officer exhaled. "Well then, lady, we all are busy, so we all with can take a ride down to the Coral Gables police department. Then you can sit at the police desk whilest we get a search warrant. If you happen to possess on of these highlighted items, then it is called stealing, which comes with some jail time," he leaned over with a smile at Reed. "And darling, they will like you in police lockup. Do you hear me, lady?"

Reed side stepped in silence from the door.

I moved inside the house with a smile first, motioning with a hand, leading to the master bedroom. "I can assist you in here, officer. I have highlighted some particular items. I know exactly where it is located inside her house. Inside her master bedroom, inside her second wardrobe closet on the right side, there is a blue pin striped business suit, Dior. Size four, my size." I moved down the hallway and turned and entered the bedroom, stopping and stood in front of the closet, pointing to the item inside the closet with a smile and a nod.

The first police officer followed behind Nadean then Reed and finally the second police officer. Each person stopped beside Nadean and stood inside the master bedroom.

I smiled at the object. "There it is. Please note the price tag is still attached to the business sleeve of the designer suit. You can verify the stock number, size, and price amount, sir," I back stepped with a smile. The police officer stomped up the closet and stood in place, reaching out and touched the tag, checking the set of numbers with the paper receipt with a stern face. I said with a nod. "That will match my store invoice number by number."

He compared the two objects with a nod, "Yes ma'am, the department store invoice matches the suit," he turned and stared at Nadean and Reed. "What do you, girls want to do? Do you want me to arrest her, Miss Cowgirl?" Reed gasped and crossed both arms with a distorted face.

I shook my curls. "Naw, Miss Stinger can compensate me with money in the grand total of six thousand five hundred twenty-seven dollars and twelve cents, please."

Reed gasped and dropped both arms on her legs with a sour frown. "Shit! I don't have six thousand dollars. You know my financial situation, Nadean. I'm a struggling working mom with my son, since my son of bitch ex-husband doesn't pay his child support on time. I'm a nurse at the hospital."

The officer frowned with a nod to Reed and Nadean. "You really need to contact your former husband or a good attorney for back child support. There are legal laws to handle that situation, Miss Stinger. She doesn't have the money."

I nodded with a stern face. "Then I will kindly accept all the clothing merchandise back. She can be a good parolee and help me find each item on the list. I can bring my car into her driveway and dump the items into the rear seat. How's that, Reed?"

The officer nodded to Reed. "How's that, Miss Stinger?"

Reed frowned with a nod to Nadean. "You're mean, Nadean. I don't have the money. I didn't steal the clothes. I purchased the clothing."

The officer frowned at Reed. "How did you purchase the clothing items, ma'am?"

Reed shook her curls. "I mean Nadean purchased the clothing when we shopped. Then I brought the items back to my home."

The officer frowned. "Did you pay back the six thousand plus dollars and some odd cents over a certain periods of time to Miss Cowgirl?"

"Uh!" Reed smirked. "She didn't ask for the money."

The officer shook a skull. "The answer is no or the answer is a lie. I think it best, ma'am, you find all the clothing items. Or I might need to take you into custody for stealing property."

Reed frowned. "Fine, I hate you Nadean," she spun around and moved ahead, tossing shoe boxes onto the carpet.

The second police officer leaned over with a smile to Nadean. "You stung her back good, Miss Cowgirl."

I nodded with smile. "Thanks, sir."

01:01 p.m.

Home of Nadean and four years old son OT

Guest bedroom setting

Warm temperatures of light rain with parted clouds of sunrays

I had retrieved my old van and dumped a hump of designer clothes over each seat with the assistance of sour puss Reed. Then I had lugged the hump of designer clothes into the house, across the tile and onto the guest bed mattress after a few trips and then dropped down to the carpet.

Winfred stole all the furniture before our divorce decree was executed.

I cried with tears. My face was red. My eyelids were swollen. My heart was empty. I didn't like my life of fight and wanted back my old life of fun. I fell over and rested onto the carpet, falling asleep until sundown.

Then I awoke, blinking my eyelashes open.

Elementary school was out.

I stood with a gasp, running from the guest bedroom, up the three steps, through the kitchen, across the dining room tile and slammed into the closed door.

The door opened.

I ran and stopped in front the closed garage door with a puff of frustration. I had remembered that Winfred had picked up OT from school, since it was Wednesday afternoon. They were going to church service, after the spanking of his ass by Nadean on Monday morning in a court of law.

I back stepped and turned, slowly moving down an empty and dark hallway, where the laundry room with a new washer and dryer stood, since Winfred took the old washer and dryer set. I moved into the dining room, where a high table with four tall chairs stood, since Winfred took all the dining room furniture, including the table, the chair, the buffet table, and the two cabinets. I strolled into the kitchen, seeing the old appliances, since Winfred couldn't steal the stove oven, the dishwasher, or the garage disposal. But there was a new refrigerator, since he robbed the house of all the movable appliances.

I moved down the three steps and entered the guest bedroom, slamming my legs into the naked mattress, falling down into the heap of designer clothing and felt the softness of the new fabric.

I closed my eyelashes, vowing no more friends, especially bitches of the female kind. Males were much more honest and nicer, not hundred percent of the time but closer than zero percent of hate.
Present day and place

02:49 p.m.

City of Birmingham within the State of Alabama

(24 miles, south, from Warrior)

Hidden underground cavern with red clay soil, gray limestone rock walls

Humid temperatures with damp air conditions

"OT..." I whisper and feel the burn on my right wrist bone while slowly exhaling with pain, closing my eyelashes and relax my achy body. My mind mentally plays another specific moment from my past adult life.

Forty-four years old Nadean and her fourteen years old son OT

Monday July 15th

City of Coral Gables

Home of Nadean and her son OT

08:10 a.m.

Florida room setting

Hot temperatures with light rain and sunny sky

I was enjoying a week of free time on vacation at home during the summertime while earning monies at the hospital, at the law firm, and at the modeling studio.

OT was enjoying the high school break too. I thought.

I moved out from my bedroom, strolling around and slapped off all the running electronic devices, such like, the television, the radio, the music player, and the video game box. I reached down and picked up all the opened and eaten junk food trash, such as, potato chips, candy bars, soda cans, and popcorn bags, moving into the kitchen. I greeted OT with a smile at the archway.

OT had returned back home, visiting his grandparents Sims in Palmton which was up the freaking road from Coral Gables. Then he would fly by airplane to visit on the mountain peak in Alabama which was owned by his uncles and then he would travel to visit with his other set of grandparents Garland.

I must keep both sides of the divorce happy.

OT scooted around Nadean, pulling out a chair, sitting at the tall table with a sour frown and slapped both hands over the surface, "Food, I'm hungry."

I dumped the junk food trash into the large trashcan, washing my hand and turned, moving and stopped, hugging the rear of his body with a smile and a nod. "I'll run to Dee Dee's Hamburgers..."

"Naw," he shook his curls, since needed to trim the flowing locks around both the hidden earlobes and the disappearing neck muscles with a sour frown and a sissy whine, facing the window. "I want real food like a home-cooked meal, Mama. No artificial colors and favors."

I nodded with a smile, back stepping from OT and the dining room. "Okay, sweetheart, I'll fix up my world famous omelet with green peppers and sweet onions that you love for breakfast. Then I will prepare a tub of thin spaghetti and crumbed up meatballs with the thin angel hair pasta, my special way for lunch. You like that, honey, too. See, I can cook that, not very well," giggling.

"Whatever." He slid out from the table, back stepping and stopped, leaning into the window of the kitchen, grabbed new box of cereal and turned, dashing ahead and dumped his tallness into the lounge chair in front of the television and surfed the channels.

I moved ahead and turned, following behind his tallness with a worried brow. "What's wrong, honey?"

"Nothing," he grabbed and chewed out from the box, scooping up the cereal with a hand from the open box with a sour frown.

I stopped and stood beside the chair, patting his soft hair with a fake smile. "I'll run to my law firm first then the grocery store for food of fruits, cereal, and pasta, okay?"

He chewed and watched the television with a sour frown. "Whatever?"

I knelt down at the chair, looking at his nose profile with a worried brow, patting his arm, "Please talk to me, OT."

He exhaled with a huff of disappointment. "All my friends are going to Key West, boating, today."

I patted his arm with a nod and a smile. "You can go along with your friend boating, too, today."

OT stared at the television and chewed. "I go to the uncles, tomorrow."

I smiled. "We can cancel."

He stared with a sour frown at the television. "I love both Vester and Vassar, but I wanna go boating and swimming and riding and skiing."

I smiled. "Well then, you have arranged a set of special teen fun plans from the scheduled one. I can change your plans with your Grandmother Garland also."

He turned and frowned at Nadean. "You'll do that for me?"

I smiled. "I'll do anything for you, honey. You're my baby."

He frowned. "But the plane tickets are paid."

I shook my curls with a smile. "The plane reservations are paid, but the reservations can be changed."

He stood and tossed both hands with the cereal box with a cheer, spilling the food. "Yeehaw," he moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of the wall with the table that held a telephone landline. "I'm going to pack. You'll drive me to Tommy's house, Mama."

I leaned over and picked up the spilled food with a smile, "Yes, sweetheart."

He leaned against the wall, dropping the cereal box on top of the television cabinet and lifted the receiver, dialing the familiar number on the telephone, listening and smiled on the phone. "Tommy, I'm coming to the boat, today."

Pause.

"Really?"

Pause.

"Naw."

Pause.

He shook his curls with a sour frown. "Forget it. Have a good time. Catch ya next week sometime. Okay, man?"

I stood with the spilled food with a smile. OT gently replaced the telephone, reaching out and grabbed the box of cereal, turning and moved back to the chair with a sour frown. I smiled. "Do I drive...?"

"Don't wanna go," he spun around and sat inside the chair again, eating and chewing the cereal from the open box.

I reached out and touched his forehead with a worried brow. "Are you feeling sick, honey?"

He stood with a sour frown, moving ahead to his private bedroom, leaving the box of cereal on the chair, "Naw."

I followed behind his back spine with a worried brow. "Are you bored?"

"Naw."

"Are you hungry?"

"Naw."

I stopped and stood inside the archway of his room with a worried brow and a worried tone. "OT, what's wrong? You seem distance, honey."

"Nothing," He reached out and kicked the door with a naked boot and a sour frown.

The door closed into my face, and as I huffed with deep worry for my teenage son.

08:32 a.m.

City of Coral Gables

Prensess and Prensess Law Firm

Business office setting of supervisor Jorge

Warm temperature with light rain and sunshine

I dressed and wore one of the designer suits from Reed and her designer collection that forcefully came to live inside my closet space, entering the business office and dropped down into the soft leather chair with a sour frown. "Angry, irritable, and irrational, my son's having some sleepless nights, too. He rambles around at three am and then finally gets up around lunchtime. I would suggest a doctor, but he doesn't appear sick. I won't know the correct medical symptoms to express for a medical physician. I don't what to do, George."

My legal law supervisor was Cuban-born native, spelling his proper name Jorge, the Spanish way. But I liked to tease him with my Southern way. I purposefully pronounced the spelling with my American tongue as George, such like, George Washington, the first president of the United States.

Jorge leaned back into the leather office chair with smile, stapling his fingers, "What does he want to do?"

I exhaled with confusion. "Boating, swimming, riding, skiing."

He leaned forward with a grin. "I don't hear the term dating. He's a teen, correct?"

I nodded. "Fourteen."

"Get him some girls."

I shook my curls with a gasp and a sour frown, "No, George, I refuse to do that. He's barely a teenager, not a college man."

He shook a skull with a smile. "Young bucks need young does. He's stuck between boyhood and manhood, Nadean. I suggest here. You need to get him some girly magazines that will help his wet dreams at night. He will never say: Thanks, mommy. But his dick will love you. Does he smoke cigarettes, also?"

I gasped with a sour frown. "You are disgusting, George. No, of course not! OT does not smoke those nasty cigarettes."

"I quite sure he might have tired one or twelve. They all do it. Look, you want to control their bad habits, not toss them to another corner of the room. Boys find trouble. Boys live for trouble. It's built into the gene pool."

I lifted and waved both hands in the air with a frustrated tone. "I am quite sure OT doesn't since I can smell stinky cigarette smoke on his tallness. You control a bad habit by suppressing it."

"He finds a route around that."

I smiled. "You control a bad habit by educating."

He grinned. "He doesn't listen and doesn't care. The boy is caught between childhood and manhood. You give in, Nadean. Go to the store, purchase two packs cigarettes, a pint of whiskey, a six pack of cold beer, three dirty girly magazines, and then treat him like a man. I guarantee he won't go looking for that more nasty stuff on his own. That's how boys get into trouble when they can't find they seek it out, which leads to stealing, cheating, jailing, lying and sometimes murder."

I gasped, "Murder, for goodness sake, George, he's fourteen."

"And he is living in the wild, wild Miami swamps with the gators, where there are lots of drugs, girls and fun. I ain't taking about the four-legged ones, either, Nadean."

I frowned. "You didn't just list drugs. Drugs are illegal."

"Yes, they are. Yes, I didn't list drugs, because we're sitting inside a law office." He stood with a smile, scooting around the office desk, stopping and leaned down into her eardrum with a whisper. "Go and see Woody. He'll fix' you up good. I promise."

I stood with a confused brow in silence.

Jorge gently led Nadean to the closed door with a smile and a nod in silence too.

The door opened.

Dee Woody lived down a lonely wing of the office building on the fourth floor which was well-lighted and filled with an assortment of golden tinted framed pictures of posters and plaques of old public relations awards from a long time ago.

I tapped over the carpet, smelling fumes of cigarettes from the office of Woody that drifted down and into the empty and quiet hallway. I did not smoke, so the odor disturbed my nose and my lips.

Woody was older than planet Earth with a lean skeletal form as his skin drooped down from the bones of white. He did not suntan within the hot golden sands of South Florida either and was always present with a cigarette in a left hand. The right hand worked a free-standing calculator or a sharpened number two pencil as he was a Last Will and Testimony lawyer at the law firm.

The door was opened.

I entered and sat inside a lonely chair with a blank face. My nose filled with smoke. My mind was dizzy with confusion. Woody continued to smooth the nasty cigarette, without looking up see his new guest. I softly said to his balding skull. "Jorge advised me to seek your guidance, Mr. Woody."

He slid a wrapped tiny package over to her, without viewing Nadean.

I stared at the tiny package and stood, reaching down and grabbed it, folding the tiny package into the business jacket, back stepping and turned, leaving the office of Dee Woody to return back home to OT.

10:26 a.m.

Home of Nadean and her son OT

Florida room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

I had always heard that things happened in threes or three strikes or three rings of a household telephone.

OT grabbed the telephone landline inside his private bedroom, admiring his new child-man gifts from his mother with a smile.

I did not disturb OT, since I sat at the office desk inside the living room, fixing some legal documents with a grin and a giggle of my victory over the teenly hormones.

OT exited his bedroom and stood inside the hallway archway with a worried brow. "Mama, Dad's on the line."

I typed with a stern face on the computer. "Take a message."

He frowned. "Dad's in trouble. Please take it."

I sat back inside the office chair with a deep sigh, reaching forward and tossed an arm with a sur frown, grabbing the landline telephone next to the computer and lifted it into the air. "Okay," I listen to the other end without a greeting to the former husband Winfred.

Paused and listened to the voice of Winfred on the telephone.

I giggled with a grin into the receiver. "You're in jail, Winfred. That only means one good thing you killed Sevilla in cold blood."

Paused and listened.

I smiled. "O. The other good thing, you hit her eyeball or her upper lip. Was there lots of blood on the kitchen floor," giggling.

Paused and listened.

I frowned. "You're in jail for reckless driving. Jeezus, Winfred, I can lie better than that. How fast had you been speeding inside your personal automobile?"

Paused and listened.

"Eighty-five, I drive faster than that and never get catch, sir."

OT moved ahead and stood over the silver tinted hair roots of Nadean with a sour frown, "Mama."

I giggled with a grin, feeling the tallness of heat behind my rear skull with a sigh, "The child's worried about you. So, you call me to..."

Paused and listened.

"Bail your ass out of jail. Bring five hundred dollars to county jail on Arrow Road right now. It's fucking ten in the morning, Winfuck. Do you know that this is my day off from work spending time with my child?"

Paused and listened.

"You got a wife, ask her pretty please to pay bail your ass...?"

Paused and listened.

I giggled with a grin, "Bailed on you, man, she's smart for a ho..."

Paused and listened.

I smiled. "Come on that one was a given. Fine, you son's nodding his approval."

Paused and listened.

I giggled with a grin on the receiver. "Pay back, I mean pay me back. Yeah, you can pay me back for the five hundred dollars later, Winfred."

Paused and listened.

I shook my curls. "Naw, I'll find it. I can read the road signs for both streets and numbers," giggling. "O. I got a great idea you can see your son since..."

Paused and listened.

"Fine," I released and reached over, hanging up the telephone with a sour frown and a matching tone, "Asshole." I exhaled with a puff of annoyance, looking up with a stern face to see the ceiling that represented heaven inside my mind. "Please forgive me, son, and Father of Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and all my angels that like to gossip about sinful me."

"Mama," He continued to stand over the hair roots of Nadean, crossing both biceps with a sour frown.

I looked down at the office desk surface and stood, leaving the legal work idle, scooting away from the office desk, spun around and shake my curls, moving toward the bedroom for my purse with a sour frown and a matching tone. "I can't help my angry, OT. It just happens like horse shit hitting at fan paddle."

OT back stepped from Nadean, spinning around, following her back spine with a sour frown and a matching tone. "I love my dad. You need to be more kind like Brother Jesus and the way that He teaches inside my Sunday school class at our church. I don't like seeing my dad hurt emotional or harmed physically. Do you understand me, Mama?" He overtook and scooted around her, blocking Nadean before the master bedroom archway with a stern face. "I am coming with you to the jail building. You don't need to go alone."

"Naw," I shook my curls, moving around my tall son with a sour frown, entering my bedroom, without stopping and grabbed the designer handbag that contained a wallet of money and a set of car key, swinging around with a frown.

He moved forward and blocked the master bedroom archway with a stern face and a nod, crossing both biceps with teen business, "Yes, Mama."

I stood with a worried brow to him. "Is my baby angry at his mama for being mean and rude to his daddy while visiting a jail cell for fun?"

OT exhaled with a huff of annoyance and spun around, moving ahead over the floor to the opposite far wall with a side door that led into the laundry room and finally into the garage door.

The door opened and remained wide open for entrance into the laundry room.

He moved ahead.

I moved ahead with a sour frown and a matching tone to the same wall and the same open door, shaking my curls with shouting fury. I didn't close the door either, since the garage was always locked and secured from thieves and Winfred. "OT, your dad ruins every one of my weekends, because his social plans change fasting then a baby's piss. So I comply. Then your dad demands to see you every major holiday, including Christmas day. We can't visit my family in Alabama, because you are required on Christmas afternoon with his blood-kin folks in Palmton."

I marched alone through the well-lighted laundry room with the washer and the dryer unit that was running and cleaning our dirty clothes. OT continued to move ahead in silence fury. I moved ahead and yelled, following behind his back spine.

The garage door open and stay opened

He moved and entered the old van, slamming the passenger door shut with a sour frown.

I entered though the open archway into the garage, moving and stopped with a deep sigh of frustration, standing in front of the driver's closed door. I open the door and slid inside the van with a sour frown in silence, not wanting to upset my son anymore.

OT reached down and webbed into the safety belt with a snort and a sour frown, staring ahead through the clean wind shield. "You don't even wanna see your blood-kin family in Bama, Mama. And Uncles Vester and Vassar with their partners come here visiting, gift giving, and taking us to Fun World in the city of Orlando, since I was four years old. I love going there with you and them, Mama. My Christmas celebrates for the entire month of December. Please don't trash my dad and his family whilest around me."

I exhaled with a puff of annoyance, cranking the cold engine of the van, warming the engine and back out of the garage, steering to the jail house in Palmton, where I was familiar with also.

11:02 a.m.

City of Palmton (36 miles north of Miami)

House of Winfred and Sevilla Sims and fourteen-year-old Juan

Driveway setting

OT and I had driven uncomfortably toward the jail house in silence, collecting Winfred after paying out five hundred dollars to the police department. The ride inside the van was more uncomfortable silence toward the house of Winfred and his second wife Sevilla.

I pulled and stopped the van into the driveway with a stern face, not killing the engine.

The rear passenger car door opened.

Winfred mumbled. "Thanks." He slid out and stood, moving ahead to the house, wearing a brown colored business suit with a sour frown.

I watched the back spine of Winfred. He entered his house. OT and I sat inside my sports car in silence.

OT turned with a sour frown to see the nose profile of his mom Nadean. "I'm staying with my dad tonight, protecting him from Sevilla's goddess wrath. She's a vicious vamp when he's in trouble. You can object but I stay with my dad, anyways. My dad needs the tender loving care, since Sevilla's a total bitch."

I continued to stare with a stern face at the closed front door of the house. "I forbade you to do this, OT."

OT turned and frowned at the closed front door of the house too. "Why, Mama? So you can hurt me or my dad?" He turned and frowned at her nose profile in fury. "You're still very angry and mad and hurt from the divorce, ten years ago, Mama. You have been divorced for ten years. Get over it, girl. Grow up, Mama. Get a life. Get a husband. Get a boyfriend. Get married," exhaling, "Then maybe, you would be nicer to everyone."

I turned with a smile and reached out, patting his arm as OT jerked a body to the door with a sour frown. I smiled with a nod. "I'm nice to you."

He reached down and grabbed the door handle, cracking open the passenger car door with a sour frown. "I'm not everyone, Mama. You need to see a doctor or something. My dad goes to one, every week. You can, too. Get some professional medical help," he slid from the car seat, standing.

The door car closed without slamming.

OT jogged ahead to the front door of the house.

I turned and frowned at the back spine of OT. He stomped and stood inside the open arms of his dad with a smile, without giving his mom Nadean a kiss or a good-bye or a hug. I felt both shitty and upset.

I had driven up here to Palmton from Miami, spending my five hundred dollars for the bail money and then another five hundred dollars for an impound fee to release Winfred's sports car that had been captured during his joy ride on the local interstate while silently cussing out Winfred's juvenile behavior.

OT debated with his mom the entire time. As I thought that my son would be a great lawyer one day like me. I loved my son more than my life. I could not help the angry, but I must try to learn to deal with it now.

I backed the van from the driveway, steering toward the roadway, slowly driving home with my sad thoughts of my son OT.

01:02 p.m.

City of Coral Gables

Home of Nadean and her son OT

Florida room setting

Hot temperatures with light rain at ten percent precipitation

I arrived at my home, parking inside the garage, sliding out the car without slamming the door with my heavy thoughts, turning and marched through the laundry room. The washer had stopped with the cleaning process. I side stepped and removed the dried clothes from the dry and down into an empty basket to fold later and then the wet clothes from the washer and down into the dryer, pressing the start button with a set of my heavy thoughts of my son OT.

I back stepped and turned with a worried brow, moving through the well-lighted hallway, through the open archway, slamming the door shut with a foot and marched ahead over the clean tile floor.

I stopped and stood inside the wall corner, grabbing the telephone book, flipping the pages and stopped. My manicured pink-polished fingernail pressed down a dull white colored page with a physician listing for a psychologist, helping with my angry issues. I stopped at the first name and reached down, lifting the receiver and dialed first telephone number with a stern face. "Hello. My name is Nadean Sims. I would like to make an appointment to see Dr. Doleey." I dropped the telephone book back down, resting over the television cabinet surface.

Paused and listened to the soprano voice on the other end of the landline telephone.

I gasped, "Today? Today, you have an opening for an appointment to see Dr. Doleey, today. This afternoon at two pm. Wow, you offer good service, good speedy service. Well, I guess, I'm available to attend. Where is your office located exactly?"

Paused and listened.

I reached down and picked up the ink pen, scribbling down all the information on the tiny notepad. The items rested next to the telephone for any emergency or new information. I smiled on the receiver, "Your office complex is off of US Highway One which is near the Hamburger Hut, across from the Empress Gas Station. Yes, I do know the location. Yes, I'll park inside the parking deck of the garage and follow the signs to the fourth floor. Yes, you'll see me there at two sharp. Thanks so much." I reached down and hung up the telephone, lifting the receiver and redialed my law office with a smile. "Hello. This is Nadean. I'm dropping off some legal contracts this afternoon. Are there any last minute office meetings on the schedule for me?" I dropped the ink pen, ripping out the paper slip from the notepad for my new appointment with a psychologist to heal my angry issues. I reached down and slid the slip of pocket down into the blue jean skirt.

Paused and listened.

I nodded with a grin, "Good, I will not be available this afternoon for any meetings. Thank you." I gently lowered the receiver, disconnecting the telephone call, back stepping and turned, moving into my master bedroom to refresh my attitude and my body, before visiting with the new psychologist, helping with my angry issues like my loving son OT suggested.

City of Miami

02:02 p.m.

4th floor physician office

(6 miles, west, from Nadean's house)

Psychologist office setting of Dr. Anthony Doleey

I had parked inside the four story gray colored garage building, following the slip of paper and the neatly decorated white and black marked signs to the fourth floor and the office of Dr. Dick Doleey.

The office door opened.

I entered and stopped, standing in front of the open receptionist desk without a smiling receptionist with a puff of nervousness. The office door slowly closed behind the back spine of Nadean. I reached out and slammed the tiny bell numerous times for attention with a puff of nervousness.

A side door opened on the forward wall.

A short and fat ugly nurse in white clothing stood inside the archway with a sneer, looking Nadean up and down with a sour frown. "Follow me," she spun around, moving down an empty hallway and stopped at the end of the hallway, standing in front of a closed door. She knocked two times and then opened the door.

I moved ahead with a puff of nervousness.

A tall overweight man with a head of light brown colored hair sat behind a round conference table inside a single conference sitting chair against the side wall. The office held an executive desk in the middle of the room with two sitting chair in the front. The other side wall held a wall of book shelves with numerous books. Behind the desk, there was a set of closed draped that could have seen the pretty blue sky and the yellow sun, but not here, today at two p.m.

The nurse closed the door, leaving the business office.

He stared at Nadean without standing and pointed with a smile down at an empty chair which was across from his seat at the small round table with a tenor voice and a nod. "Welcome, I am Dr. Doleey."

"I'm Nadean Sims," I stopped and sat down into the pulled out chair with a fake smile and a puff of nervousness, placing both hands into a lap. I felt nervous doing this, but I loved OT. OT believed that this visit or treatment or session would make his mom Nadean, making her a different person.

He nodded with a smile to Nadean. "Your accent is different, not Spanish, but very smooth and flowery..."

"Southern twang from Alabama," I giggled with a grin of nervousness.

He touched and slid a white tinted and blank single sheet of legal paper across the almost empty table surface toward Nadean with a smile and a nod, "A Bama Belle, how delightful? Draw me a picture, Bama Belle?"

"Beg pardon," I looked down with a confused brow to see a blank sheet of legal paper.

He pointed to the small box of colored crayons on her left side with a smile and a nod. "I have all my new clients draw a picture of their emotions, if you want to reason an excuse. The picture helps me concentrate on your focused negative energies."

I lifted both hands and reached out, snatching the single sheet of paper with a confused brow and a nervous mumble, staring at the blank page of the paper. "Okay, I'm not an artist."

He pointed down at the paper with a smile and a nod to her silver tinted hair roots. "While you sketch your emotions, using any different colored crayon, please describe the picture that reflects them to me."

"Okay." I reached over and snatched u the small box, opening the lid and selected a blue crayon, slamming the tip of the newly sharpened blue, drawing a box shaped with a triangle rooftop with a smile and a nod. "This is my house," giggling at the silly childish picture.

He stared down at the upside down childish drawing with a smile and a nod to her hair roots. "Blue is a calming color. You feel comfortable and secure in your house."

I stared down with a smile at the blue house, "Yeah."

He stared down at the upside down childish drawing with a smile and a nod to her hair roots. "Please, elaborate your feelings while you draw, expressing joy, angry, sadness, happiness, studious, wise, or dumb that you want to communicate to me."

I looked up with a sour frown to see his brown colored hair roots. "Dumb?"

He pointed down at the upside down drawing with a smile and a nod. "Is that a feeling that is reflected inside your home?"

"Ass..." I giggled at his hair roots. "No, I'm just feeling the swing of the rhythm in our psychologist session. That's all."

He looked up with a smile and a nod to see Nadean. "You have expressed a wonderful blue for calming. Let's counter that opposite feeling of storming with another color on the picture."

I looked down and snatched a red crayon from the open box of colors, leaning over the paper, drawing a parallelogram shape of three story type house with a big triangle rooftop. I lifted upright with a sneer and pointed the crayon tip at the childish drawing with a smirk and a nod. "This is the former husband's house."

He stared down and studied the upside down childish drawing with a stern face and a serious tone. "I can see your direct anger, fury, madness in the drawing. His house is both larger and bolder than your house in both physically and mentally strengths."

I looked up with a grin and a nod to see his stern face. "I'm stronger."

He smirked. "Not if you need counseling, you are not. This is why you have come to me, Bama Belle. Draw a vertical line, running down between the two houses." Nadean tossed the red one down over the table surface, reaching over and grabbed a new crayon, drawing a wickedly crooked yellow line between the blue box and red box. He nodded with a smile. "Very good, the pathway is both treacherous and vile along with extreme cautious, since you have chosen the yellow color."

I giggled with a grin, lifting and wiggled the crayon near a smile to him. "It's just a yellow color."

He pointed down with a smile and a nod to the childish drawing. "Good, we have identified the stage. Let's picture the actors."

I tossed the yellow crayon, reaching over and grabbed a green crayon, drawing two human figures in the form of straight sticks, since I could not draw worth a lick.

The first stick was a woman with a round skull, a pair of two straight arms, a set of two straight legs, a pair of two rounded shoes, wearing a triangle dress with a big green smile on a face. The second stick was a male with a round skull, wearing a baseball cap with a pair of two straight arms, a pair of trousers with a set of two sneakers and a big green colored smile.

He nodded with a smile at the childish drawing. "Very good, this is you and your son. By selecting the earthy tone of green, it represents Mother Nature. This shows me that you deeply care and nurture your child and think about him all the time like nature. Mother Nature is all around us all the time. And your son is the growing tree and you represent the water, clouds, and sun."

I smiled down at the green-colored drawings with a nod. "I love my son."

He smirked down at the childish drawing with a nod. "Draw hell."

"If you insist?" I tossed the green crayon over the table surface near the tiny box and reached out, grabbing a hot pink crayon with my fingers, and leaning down over the paper with a smirk. I drew a female with a big oval skull, a pair of straight pink colored big lips, a set of big hips, and a pair of two straight and fat arms inside a big triangle dress. I tossed the pink colored crayon, reaching out and grabbed a new one. I added a second figure of a male next to the female in the human outline of orange tint with a square skull, a pair of open lips, a set of two straight and fat arms, coming out of a boxy shirt, a pair of trousers, and a pair of tied dress shoes.

He nodded with a smile at the childish drawing. "This is absolutely fascinating as I translate here. She is obviously a female and his new wife and the stepmother to your son. She has an oval head, instead of a round, or square one which clearly represents the egg, which clearly translates into an egghead or smartness. Is she smart?" Doleey looked up with a smirk to see the hair roots of Nadean.

I looked up with a confused brow to see his smirk. "Don't know."

He winked with a grin. "She must be to steal your man. Score one for her, Bama Belle. She has a loud voice for being opinioned and overweight, if I read the picture correctly, or maybe that's ugliness. Finally, you selected the color hot pink for hot tempered and over wrath-ness of angry and madness. Good job, Bama Belle! The male is your ex-husband and is painted in orange. Another interesting color selection, orange isn't red for angry and isn't pink for gentle but in-between the color scenes. He can be reasonable one minute then irrational the next."

I nodded with a grin, "Exactly."

He stared down with a smile and pointed down at the childish drawing. "The pictures never fib. The stick person is your typical male, but you drew ties on his shoes. He has expensive taste and must wear expensive clothes. Clothes make the man. Hmm, I can clearly focus on your negative emotions with the ex-husband and his new wife. You should avoid them at all costs."

I shook my curls with a sour frown. "I can't do that."

He smiled. "Yes, of course, the child, your son has interaction with his father on a daily basis or weekend scenario."

I nodded with a stern face. "The intent of visitation started out every other day but his father works long, long hours and comes home which is passed my son's bedtime. It has drifted into every other weekend, if his father can break from his working job."

He stared down with a nod and a smile, tapping on the childish art work. "Where is your work within the picture?"

I tossed the orange one over to the box with a giggle and reached out, grabbing a purple crayon. I leaned down and drew a tall triangle, tossing the crayon over the table surface, scooting up the paper and held it in front of my breasts with a nod and a grin.

He looked up with a puzzled brow to see the childish art work of Nadean. "You drew a triangular prism in the color purple. This is very troubling."

I slammed the paper down over the table surface, looking down with a confused brow to see my slick but sick childish art work "What do you say that, sir?"

He reached over and tapped on the purple colored triangle with a stern face and a serious tone. "The color purple represents royalty, which translates into money. Plus, if you add the shape of your work with the triangle, you didn't use just a simple three-equal sided geometry triangle. You used a two-equaled sided triangle that represents only two of your mental thoughts, which is both money and job." He looked up with a nod and a stern face to see her hair roots. "Your money and your job are equal components in your life, which is painted by purple, meaning it's more important than..."

I gasped at the drawing and Dooley. "No, it is not."

He stared and tapped down on the childish art work with a stern face and a serious tone. "You used the more elaborate triangular prism, which translates into a prison of your fear of job and money. This means you don't have enough money and want more money for personal..."

I stood with a sour frown and a matching tone, pointing down at the childish art work. "Look, I used the different shapes on purpose instead of drawing them all the same way, because I am not an artist with good sketching designs. I plucked the simple geometric figures from my former math classes in high school. I could've just as well have used a cone for the house and a cylinder for the work. That doesn't mean, I'm a cone head from the cone or I'm sick of my work for cylinder..."

"Yes," He nodded with a grin to Nadean. "Actually, these particular math objects translate into those particular emotional feelings. My second psychological evidence is your ex-husband's shape of a parallelogram for a house compared to your small tiny square, which translates into jealousy of your ex-husband lifestyle. Is he a millionaire by chance?"

I tossed both arms, staring with a sour frown and a matching tone at Dooley. "Gawd, this mental game is really stupid-o," I looked up with a stern face to see the ceiling, squeezing my eyelashes with a whisper for my eardrums only. "I tried to cooperate, OT. This is really weird," I looked down with a sour frown and a growl, jabbing a finger at his nose bridge. "Man, you are really weird. I thought I was going to talk about my stuff..."

"Yes," He pointed down at the childish art work with a stern face and a serious tone. "Your stuff is called issues. You have got a kettle pot overflowing with a set of hot fiery red sauce of mental and physical matters, consisting of angry, sadness, jealousy, revenge, madness, and others that would have to draw out," chuckling. "Get it. We have to draw out at our next few sessions under the guidance of a trained psychologist like me."

I stared at him and jabbed a finger down at my childish art work with a stern face. "Based on art work a child drew in first grade..."

He nodded with a smile to Nadean. "Art is the purest expression of emotion. You have drawn your emotions. You need to deal with this child's drawing, because you are the child inside the art work. Your attitude proves that to me in this session, alone. Speaking of money, how are you paying for your first drawing session with me? Today, the session is two hundred dollars for the first psychological session."

"Cash," I squatted down to the floor with a stern face, reaching for my handbag, pulling out the wallet and stood, opening the wallet and lifted up a wad of cash money.

He looked down with a stern face, studying the childish art drawing of Nadean. "You don't have health insurance."

I counted out the money in a set of numerous twenty dollar bills with a smile. "Yes, I have great health insurance. I elect to use cash."

He shook a skull at the childish art work of Nadean. "I do not take cash. I require payment of a cashier's cash, a personal check, a business check, a credit card, or a health insurance card. Cash could lead to abuse and fraud..."

"...and only if'an you don't give me a receipt for your medical professional services from my cash payment for a clinical service. I got burned using my health insurance card by another psychiatrist for double-dipping down into the insurance company. I normally don't write out a set of bank checks, electing to pay with cash as many circumstances as possible," I leaned down and counted out the money into two hundred dollars for him with a smile.

He looked up with a confused brow to see her hair roots. "If'an, what type of terminology is that from?"

"Southern," I slid the cash pile of money with a grin and a giggle across the empty table surface, stopping in front his placement at the table, standing upright with a stern face.

He looked down with a confused brow to see the cash pile of money and Nadean. "You use a payment method of cash instead of checks. What about a credit card? Do you own one?"

I looked down and pointed down to the pile of cash with a smile and a nod, "Yes."

He reached out and scooped up the pile of cash, re-counting it with a stern f ace. "I will take the money, honey and run. I do not want to waste my precious medical services on someone like you. You have a set of very serious mental issues directly from your nasty divorce and related to your greed of money. I strongly suggest another psychologist to help you Ms. Sims for the welfare and protection of your only little boy before you do something violent."

I back stepped from the table, the psychiatrist and the cash, turning and moved toward the closed door with a grin and a giggle, "Whatever, Quack-doctor."

The door opened.

I left the room, turning and moving down the hallway for home.

The door closed.

Monday July 22nd

08:08 a.m.

City of Coral Gables

Home of Nadean and her son OT

Florida room setting

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine and parted clouds

The sports car slowed and halted, parking inside the driveway of her house. The four occupants slid out the car, gently shutting a car door, swinging to the front door of the house with a stern face. Each occupant moved up the brick stairs one at a time.

The door was opened.

Vester entered the house first with a stern face, saying to his sister Nadean. "Our mama didn't come, Sis. She doesn't want to see you lose OT in a court of law, today." He moved into the room and stopped, spinning around to see the nose profile of his sister Nadean.

I stood at the side of the open archway of the house, greeting each brother and their partner for a business jaunt, not a social visit. Winfred had taken Nadean into family court for a second time for some sucky reason. Honestly, I was totally clueless about the contempt charge, since I had been really nice to Winfred. However, he had back-stabbed Nadean again, trying to possess OT for a second time.

Vester exhaled with a stern face, spinning around to see the noise and OT. "Our daddy or our sister Dorcee didn't wanna come either."

I looked up with a smile to see the ceiling. "There is a loving God." I looked down with a grin and leaned over, closing the door, after the last guest entered, slamming it shut with a smile. I turned and moved into the room with a stern face and a set of nerves.

OT moved from the kitchen, stopping and blocked both Vester and Vassar from advancing into the room with a grin, extending a hand shake and then a hug, pulling back with a smile and a nod. "Hey, ya'll. Good to see ya'll, again. Sorry, I messed up the summertime schedule."

Vassar lifted an arm into the ceiling, measuring OT with a smile, "OT, you've grown another two inches since Christmas."

OT stood up on a pair of tip toes with a smirk, measuring his height against his tall uncle. "Taller than ya, man," he dropped down and turned, slamming a fist into the bicep of Tank with a chuckle and a grin, titling a chin to the side of the wall. "Hey, ya'll. Let's go work out on my equipment while my mama updates Vester and Vassar about this stupid trial over me." OT spun around, moving ahead into the kitchen and down to the guest bedroom, where all the workout equipment was located.

Tank, Duke and OT left the Florida room.

I stared ahead at the far wall with a worried brow, "The grand prize..."

Vester spun around with a frown at Nadean, side stepping and sitting on the long sofa. "You look nervous, Nadean."

I moved ahead to the same long sofa with a nervous tongue tick and a nervous tone, turning and sitting beside Vester on top of the sofa, "Noot."

Vassar turned and sat on the opposite side inside the second sofa across the low table with a smile and a chuckle, "Yes, remember when I told ya that you won't win the beauty pageant because of stage fright, because your voice would mice squeak in piccolo when nervous."

I looked at Vester and Vassar, sounding with a nervous tone, "Noot."

Vassar chuckled at her. "What did you do, this time, Nadean?"

I looked down with a worried brow to see my manicured hands, exhaling with a puff of nervousness, "Something illegal."

Vester leaned over and hugged his sister with a wink at his twin brother. "Well, just finger point to the dead body, then me and Vester will dig it up. You're not too bright burying it in Miami. The soil elevation level is too low for an illegal burial. Once you hit sand, you hit water, then the body floats across the waves," chuckling with Vassar.

I pulled back from the sisterly hug with a sour frown, "Asshole, I don't murder Winfuck," giggling.

Vester chuckled and shook a red colored buzz cut with a smile and a chuckle. "Too bad, a murder is a solo act. At the end of it all, one person only knows, since the rest are blinded-witnesses."

I reached over and popped his bicep with a sour frown. "Ya sick, Vester."

Vester winked with a grin. "My mate thinks so, too."

I giggled with a grin. "Gawd, no more bedroom jokes, I might get embarrassed from hearing all your wild thing experiments."

Vester grinned. "We're passed experimentation. I am thinking of writing a novel on the perfect gay thing."

I smiled. "Sign my book copy please."

Vassar frowned at the nose profile of Nadean. "So you didn't murder Winfuck, because you are fighting with him in a court of law over OT again."

Vester winked at Nadean with a smile. "So you committed an illegal act that at least two people know. Where do the suckers live? I carry concealed with my gun permit which is good in all fifty continental US States plus the American territories," chuckling.

I smiled with a nod. "I carry concealed, too."

Vassar chuckled. "That's right. You were always a good shot when not pissed off, too badly."

I turned and frowned at each brother, "Thanks, my brothers. I am nervousness that I will not lose OT ever."

Vester turned and nodded to Vassar. "That's why me and Vassar flew down to Miami from Bama, Sis."

09:19 am.

Downtown Miami location

Miami-Dade Courthouse

Family Court Division

Court square setting of Nadean versus Winfred

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

I drove my sports car with Vassar inside the passenger seat. Vester followed inside the rental sports car sometimes too close behind with OT inside the passenger seat, shouting for a race between the two sports cars.

I stopped and parked inside the garage building, scooting out of the car, leading through the courthouse building into a new courtroom, hearing the horse playing between the five people behind my ass. I entered the courtroom first, seeing the rear skulls of grayish-brown headed Winfred, his black haired wife Sevilla, and blonde haired new lawyer.

OT stopped and stood in the middle of the courtroom aisle with a chuckle, turning and moved through the row, sitting inside the last row with Juan, the biological fourteen-year-old son of Sevilla. The two boys were not blood-kin but grew up as a set of semi-brothers within the household of Winfred and Seville for the past ten years, since the age of four years old.

The father of Juan lived in the metro city of Miami, commuting to see his father when OT was with his mom Nadean.

Vester led his brother Vassar, his partner Tank and Duke to the first row inside the court gallery, sitting directly behind Nadean for love and support. He turned and sneered at the rear skull of Winfred.

I moved ahead with a nervous stomach, strolling through the swinging doors, turning and sat down at the defense table for a second time with a sour frown and a worried heart as a defense lawyer, again.

The side door opened and remained open.

The bailiff exited into the court square, stopped, standing in the middle of the room with a stern brow to face the court gallery. "Please rise for the judge."

The court gallery stood for the judge.

The judge entered the court square and sat down into the chair and reached over, banging the gravel over the polished bench surface, turning and looked with a stern face to see Winfred with a new sleazy attorney named Gene Framme. Then he turned with a stern face to see Nadean who sit alone at the defendant table. "Sit down, please. Where is your attorney, Ms. Sims?"

The court gallery along with the prosecution table sat down in silence.

I continued to stand with a nod and a stern face to the judge. "I am a licensed attorney in the State of Florida, Your Honor."

"What is your specialty..."

"T..."

The judge reached over and slammed the gravel over the bench surface, staring with a stern face at Nadean. "I am not finished speaking, Ms. Sims. In my courtroom, I rule. I will ask a series of questions and expect a series of answers to continue the flow the valuable datum and control the boring lectures from the lawyers which isn't needed for my decision. Do you understand, Ms. Sims?" She nodded in silence. The judge lifted and pointed the gravel with a stern face at Nadean. "What is your specialty in law? If your specialty is not child custody law, please do explain how it is related? Finally, do you feel that you require your own attorney as the defendant in this child custody hearing? If so, then I can postpone this hearing until such time."

I said with a stern face and a nod. "My specialty is law taxation, not related to child custody law in any form as seem from a court of law. I don't feel that I need further representation in defending my person in this case. I respectfully request that you please continue with the hearing, Your Honor."

He frowned. "Ms. Sims, I want to point out candidly that this isn't a tax case but a custody case which determines the best interest of your son and is directly related to your joint custody of Orion Tanner Sims. I hope you are not doing this to keep from paying out the five thousand dollars for an attorney."

I grinned, "I'm paying the five thousand to myself, Your Honor."

The judge turned and exhaled to see Winfred and Nadean. "Each of you will be allowed to call forth any and all eye witnesses as needed for the contempt claim challenging the current custody of Orion Tanner Sims. You, Mr. Sims must prove to me as judge. There was a valid court order of custody that she knew about the order and then deliberately disobeyed it. Do you understand me, Mr. Sims?"

Framme stood with a smile and a nod, wearing a bright aqua colored business suit with a yellow tie, "Yes, Your Honor."

The judge frowned at Winfred. "Do you understand me, Mr. Winfred Sims?"

Winfred did not stand, saying with a sour puss brow, "Yes, Your Honor."

The judge nodded with a stern face. "Please begin, Mr. Framme."

Framme nodded with a smile. "We are here today to discuss and decide the best interest of the only biological child of Winfred Sims, who is named Tanner Sims. The child is named after Mr. Winfred Sims' dearly departed great grandfather. We will prove beyond a doubtful shadow that the child's custodian guardian does not adhere to the set custody and visitation order outlined by the divorce decree. We will begin with the first..."

I stood with a stern face, turning and faced Framme. "Where's the letter?"

Framme turned and frowned at Nadean, "What?"

I exhaled. "As stated within the Florida divorce court statue, procedure number thirteen, paragraph eighteen, if the numerous verbal discussions with a primary custodian guardian of the child are not productive and thus useless, then a written letter is sent, stating to a custodian guardian that a non-custodian guardian is preparing for some type of legal action, if a custody order is not followed to the proscribed divorce decree as set by the nasty divorced couple."

Framme reached down and lifted a paper near his smile. "You had received the document on July third on a Wednesday afternoon. I hold a copy with your personal signature, the date, and your witness notary from your personal bank."

I sat down with a nod to Framme. "I received a contempt lawsuit for a contempt hearing, not a prep letter of World War III from Winfred, the biological father of Tanner Sims."

Framme turned and frowned to the judge, rattling the papers. "I want to point out that the verbal and written communication between Ms. Sims and Mr. Sims is very poor, violent, convoluted, and confused. Your Honor, the custodian guardian is not adhering to the court-ordered arrangement of custody with their only child named Tanner Sims. As a matter of fact, she is placing their child in documented dangerous situations without proper adult supervision for both her and the child. Therefore, we ask today within this court of law, after hearing the presented and documented contempt complaint, you act in the best interest of the child. And please award full custody statue to the child's biological father Winfred Sims."

The judge frowned. "Mr. Framme, the child is a teenager, who is present inside my courtroom by your legal and personal decree. Please reference the child as a teenager. The mother of the teenager is correct. You have presented that the verbal communication between the parents of the teen is very poor and convoluted. Then Mr. Sims should have presented his numerous contempt arguments in good penmanship as handwriting. That is on a sheet of paper with an ink pen, Gene. Therefore, we will proceed very carefully with this contempt charge for change in the custodial child custody. Please call your first witness, Gene."

Framme nodded with a smile. "The first custody violation for the safety of the teenage is attempted murder..."

I stood, dropping open a mouth, turning to see Framme, "Wait, what? An attempted murder charge has been brought on me by whom."

The judge frowned. "An attempted murder charge is presented in criminal court, not family court, Gene."

Framme smiled with a nod to the judge. "If you would entertain my new concept, then I will prove my point." The judge waved the gravel. Framme turned and smiled at Nadean. "My key witness is Reed Stinger."

"What?" I swung around to see the door.

The door opened.

Reed Stinger stomped through the open archway, wearing a pair of designer clothing and a set of spiky heels, moving through the swinging door. When Reed passed by the defense table, I smirked with a snigger at her back spine, "Lick me," giggling.

Her first name was Reed which was similar to a musical instrument clarinet reed, where a musician would lick the sweet favor off the reed before the musician played it. Human Reed was not much different, since a man licked on her reed, before he played it.

Reed was the old neighbor of Nadean from the current neighborhood within Coral Gables, before she was forced to sale her house and moved out, living inside the town of Doral.

I hadn't visited her since OT was four years old, ten years ago.

Framme back stepped from the prosecution table, side stepping and moved ahead with a smile to see Reed. She sat inside the witness box. He stopped and stood between her and the edge of the bench, so Nadean could see each eyewitness and hear the eyewitness testimony against her.

I exhaled with a puff of annoyance, staring at Reed in silence, twirling the number two around inside my fingers, without the hissing and the finger pointing, since I was a cool lawyer like my hero Tom Sawyer of the fictitious e-novel of "The Quartet."

Framme stood and showed off his nose profile to both Nadean and Reed, saying with a smile to Reed and Nadean. "Please tell the judge what happened to you on the date of September thirty on a Tuesday morning at nine o'clock in the morning at your personal residence within your personal neighborhood of Coral Gables?"

Reed jabbed a finger with a sneer at Nadean. "Mean and mad Nadean pointed her personal weapon, a loaded shot gun in my face at my front door of my home in Coral Gable. The police came..."

The judge turned and faked a smile at the grayish-blonde hair roots of Reed, since he had heard a string of silly accusations all day long between a set of nasty divorced couples over their children. "When did that event occur, Ms. Stinger?"

Reed continued to jab a finger with a growl at Nadean. "Nadean pointed her personal deadly and loaded weapon, a shot gun in my face ten years ago inside my front door of my house..."

The judge smiled down at the hair roots of Reed. "Do you still live inside that house within the neighbor of Coral Gables?"

Reed turned and smiled. "No..."

"Why not?"

"I moved."

The judge faked a smile. "Ten years ago, based on my quick math young Mister Sims would be around four years old of age, would you agree with my math skills, Ms. Stinger?"

"Yes."

The judge turned and smiled with a yell, "OT?"

"Sir..." OT stood from the chair in the last row, waving with a hand and a worried brow for his presence inside the court gallery.

The judge smiled with a nod at OT. "Do you remember Ms. Reed Stinger from your old neighborhood within Coral Gables?"

OT shook his shoulder length silver tinted curls with a stern face, "Naw, not really, sir! I was only four years old."

The judge smiled with a nod. "It is very nice and a pleasure to meet you, young Mr. Sims. You are just as magnificent in person as on the football field, son. My children, my wife, and I all attended and graduated from Coral Rock High School, also. We are very proud of you and the Coral Rock football team, this year. Hope to see us in the state of Florida playoffs again, next year."

He nodded with a smile. "Thank you, sir." OT sat with a grin, elbowing Juan with a chuckle, head bumping with a whisper of secret words.

The judge turned and frowned down at the hair roots of Framme. "Please allow me to ask one more question to Ms. Stinger," he turned and smiled at Reed. "Was a minor child present at your home during the gunshot incident?"

She shook her curls. "No."

"Did you become harmed?"

"No."

"Was the mother of OT hurt, harmed, or arrested by you, the police, or another third party?"

"No."

The judge nodded with a fake smile at Reed. "You are now dismissed and can depart my courtroom..."

"But!" Reed turned with a sneer and a sour frown and jabbed a finger at Nadean. "She pointed a gun in my face."

The judge turned and nodded to the blonde hair roots of Framme. "Mr. Framme, you will receive two courtroom contempt charges. May I remind that I require only three for a visit to one of the empty jail cells behind my private chamber? Please proceed with your next witness, very carefully."

Framme leaned over and whispered with a sneer into the face of Reed. Reed gasped in shock and stood with a sour frown, moving ahead toward the open archway which was held open by a courthouse guard. When she passed by the defense table, I smirked with a snigger. "Fuck you, girlfriend."

Reed didn't bother to comment, swiftly moving down the aisle and exited the court room.

The door closed.

Framme back stepped and stood in the middle of the court square, seeing both the nose profiles of the judge and Nadean, saying with a smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Winfred Sims have petitioned for sole custody of Tanner Sims, their soon-to-be fifteen-year-old son, who is currently a sophomore at Coral Rock High School. Tanner was suspended for a fist fighting with three days of detention during the last week of school this pass May before the start of summer session. This court will show and present that violence of Tanner is directly related to the violence disturbance of his mother. And this court asks that Your Honor to award fifteen-year-old Tanner Sims to Mr. and Mrs. Winfred Sims for the best interest and loving care of his growth and maturity as a teenager into adulthood, after the presentation. Thus, I call in defense of Mr. Winfred Sims' contempt charge Dr. Anthony Doleey, a licensed psychologist for symptoms of depression and clinical mental behaviors."

The fat overweight pale skinned middle aged adult male wobbled side to side, moving through the set of open doors, down the aisle, strolling through the swinging doors and turned, stopping inside the court square, standing in front of the bailiff. The bailiff said the swearing ceremony with a rushed mumble of soft words. Doleey raised a hand in the air and a placed one on the Bible, saying with a smile and a nod to the bailiff. "I will tell the truth." He turned and waddled to the eyewitness stand.

I turned and watched his big ass.

Doleey slid a big ass into the witness box and faced Nadean, reaching over and withdraw a folded sheet of paper from the breast pocket of his dull brown colored business jacket, lifted and displayed the childish drawing in front of his shirt with a grin and a nod in silence to Framme.

Framme moved a little closer to the witness box, still standing between the edge of the bench with the judge and the defense table with Nadean, slightly turning a chin, saying with a smile and a nod to Doleey. "Welcome, Dr. Doleey. Please explain the piece of paper in your hands."

He nodded with a grin. "My newest client, a mentally disturbed Ms. Nadean Sims drew this picture of their emotions."

The judge turned and frowned down at the hair roots of Doleey. "Lean the drawing into my direction, please." Doleey twisted to the side. The judge studied the paper with a sour frown. "It looks like a kiddie drawing to me."

Doleey nodded with a grin to the judge. "This picture expresses the negative energies of my newest client Ms. Nadean Sims in terms vivid colors and mathematical shapes..."

"...like a kid," the judge turned and exhaled with a huff at the hair roots of Framme. "Please precede, Gene, very carefully."

Framme nodded with a smile to Nadean and Doleey. "Please explain the mental interpretation of the drawing, Dr. Doleey."

Doleey nodded with a smile. "The different array of colored crayons current sketch out all her violent emotions which range from fear, angry, sad, mad, hate, and finally to fury. She selected a blue crayon, drawing a box with a rooftop. Blue is a calming color. You feel..."

I stood with a stern face and jabbed a finger at the childish art work. "This feels really weird here, sir. Can the licensed medical professional just summarize the silly drawing in two sentences or less?"

The judge nodded with a stern face to Nadean, "Yes, summarize the drawing please."

Doleey exhaled with a huff of annoyance, flipping over to see the paper, jabbing a finger at the triangle with a stern face. "The color crayon of purple represents royalty. The theme of royalty translates into money. The shape of the triangle is not a perfect three-equaled sided triangle like a family unit of mother, father, and child. Ms. Sims selected and used a two-equaled sided triangle, representing two mental thoughts of money and job. Her money and her job are equal components in her life which is painted by purple meaning money is more important than her child." He looked up with a smile and a nod to see Framme and Nadean.

Framme nodded with a smile to the psychiatrist. "Thank you for that excellent presentation, Dr. Doleey," he turned and winked at Nadean. "You are invited to question Dr. Doleey, if you dare, Ms. Attorney."

I continued to stand with a puff of nervousness, pressing both hands down the designer business skirt that came from my ex-neighbor Reed Stinger with a grin and a nod. "Good afternoon, Dr. Doleey. Could you or the lawyer please show me the office medical record chart, stating the clinical mental condition of the client, who has drawn that silly childish picture?"

Doleey nodded with a smile to Nadean. "You drew this picture, Ms. Sims. This is my visual recording of your current mental condition when you visited my private office on July fifteen."

I nodded with a stern face at Doleey. "So, are you telling me here in a court of law and under oath of the Holy Bible that you do not keep any type of written medical chart for each patient inside your private psychological session that maybe might show the name, the address, the city, the state, the telephone number, and the favorite stuffed animal of the client, who has drawn that silly childish picture?"

He smiled at Nadean. "I do not collect any individual name and street address during my private session. I use a patient's health insurance card for that information. Then my receptionist records all that data for my private psychological work filing records. You met my receptionist the day, the time, and the date that you visited me on July fifteen."

I smiled with a nod, "Excellent," I back stepped from the defense table and then shuffled ahead to the witness stand, stopping and stood a few feet from Doleey, standing and studying the childish art work drawing with a stern face and a serious tone. "You said that I visited you inside your private business office on July fifteen. However, you do not have a hard copy medical record to show my attendance..."

"Your Honor," Framme exhaled with a huff of annoyance, standing and staring a few feet at the back spine of Nadean with a sour frown. "She is leading the witness. I want to call for you to sustain the outrageous imposition on the eye witness."

The judge turned and smiled at Gene and Doleey. "I do believe that she is leading this discussion down a different street. This is not a criminal case of law. This is family court, Gene. I don't call for sustain or over rule." He turned and smiled down the bald spot on the psychologist. "Therefore, please address the question, Dr. Doleey, for my kitty-cat curiosity, too? Do you possess inside one of your office filing cabinets a written medical chart with her name, her city street address, and her favorite stuffed animal?"

Doleey turned with a sigh to see the judge. "I do not possess any written medical chart for Nadean Sims. She visited me on July fifteen at two o'clock and then drew this picture," he rattled the colorful sheet of paper with a smile and a nod. "This is my medical record chart."

The judge turned and nodded with a stern face to Nadean. "Please precede, Ms. Sims, very carefully."

I nodded with a stern face, jabbing a finger at the art work "Yes, sir. Where's the client's name on the childish drawing?"

Doleey dropped open a mouth and looked down, flipping over to see the paper with a confused brow. "O well, normally, I don't insist upon an artist's signature on the art work..."

"You just explained inside a court of law under Bible oath that this is your client's mental evaluation by you and your licensed psychology college degree. How do I know that this particular art work belongs to your new client Nadean Sims from July the fifteenth day of this year?"

He looked up with a sour frown to see Nadean, flipping around the paper, rattling the sheet in front of a dress shirt between both hands. "I remember you. I saw you draw this art work. I suggested that you seek professional help with your mental disturbing attributes of angry and fury toward your ex-husband and his new wife, who is also the step-mommy to your biological son."

I exhaled with a puff of annoyance, shaking my curls. "I did not draw that childish first grade art work."

He exhaled with a huff of frustration and a nod. "Yes, you did. Your tiny house is in the shape of a square. A square shaped symbol is calming. However, the red house is a parallelogram for hate and angry. You are hostile toward all people, including me, your son, your boss, your former husband, your..."

"Naw, dude!" I shook my curls with a stern face. "I am not hostile. I did not draw that silly picture, because I can't draw, but I do like to read adventure novels," smiling.

He jabbed a finger back and forth from Nadean to the childish drawing with a sour frown. "This is your art work when you visited me on July fifteenth."

I shook my curls. "Naw, man, I did not draw the silly childish art work. I did not visit you inside your office on July fifteen."

He jabbed a finger at Nadean and the childish drawing with a sour frown. "You drew in the color of hot pink for the smart ass wife of Mr. Sims. You drew your bastard ex-husband Mr. Sims in orange tint for his good taste of expensive material possessions. These are your words, describing your enemies. You drew yourself in green hue for Mother Nature, handling all the elements of sun, wind, fire, and rain."

I turned and smiled at the judge, shaking my curls, pointing at Doleey. "I think he needs to see a professional, who can help him with the earth, wind, and fire thing. I did not draw this silly art work. I did not visit Dr. Anthony Doleey. I did not leave my house on July the fifteenth, since OT was with his father for that weekend."

Framme stomped side to side inside the court square a few feet from the ass of Nadean with a furious dance and an angry tone, turning to see the back spine of Nadean. "For Peter's sake, your son told his father that you had visited a licensed psychologist. He found the business card of Dr. Doleey on the dining room table," he spun around with a sour frown and spotted OT in the rear of the courtroom. "Tanner, stand up and defend your mother!"

The judge turned and pointed the gravel at OT with a stern face. "Do not answer that question, son," he looked down with a growl at the hair roots of Framme. "You are not the judge. I am. Do not ever raise a question to another person inside my courtroom, ever, Gene!"

Framme back stepped from Nadean and Doleey with a stern face and slid back down into the first chair of the prosecution table with a nod, "Yes, Your Honor."

I back stepped with a smirk from the eyewitness box, moving backward and sat down inside the first chair of the defense table with a stern face, watching the judge.

The judge turned and frowned at the bald spot of Doleey. "I am clearly hearing two different testimonies. I don't know who to believe."

Doleey jabbed a finger with a sneer at Nadean. "She was in my office on July fifteen and drew this picture in my hand."

I smiled at Doleey, "Naw."

The judge continued to look down at the bald spot of Doleey. "Dr. Doleey, you do not possess a hard copy medical record chart which is usually required by a licensed clinician, except you're a psychologist, not a medical psychiatrist. You claim Ms. Sims draw that silly art work piece but her name is not on the sheet of colored paper. So you collect the names and the addresses from a patient's health insurance card."

Framme stood with a smile and a nod to the judge and the psychologist, "Excellent detective work, Your Honor. Dr. Doleey, we will contact your business office and then request a copy of Ms. Sims' insurance card, which also will clearly prove her medical visitation to your office on June fifteen. Your Honor, at the request of my client and Dr. Doleey, may we please have a telephone moved into the courtroom to end this ridicule masquerading maneuver by a mental disturbed custodian guardian."

The judge turned and nodded with a stern face to the bailiff, "Granted. Bailiff! Please arrange for a telephone line to come inside my courtroom, right now."

Doleey looked down with a worried face to see the colorful art work and returned a pair of worried eyeballs to see Nadean. Nadean lifted and waved with the number two pencil near her smile. He gasped and turned with a worried brow to see Framme. "O dear! Mr. Framme, there is no health insurance card information inside my private office."

Framme advanced ahead to the eyewitness box, shaking a skull with a confused brow and stopped, standing in front of Doleey. "I don't understand your statement, Dr. Doleey. You said that all personal information is collected on a patient's health insurance card during their visit to your office for treatment. Ms. Sims visited your office on July fifteen at two o'clock. You possess her drawing. What is the matter here?"

Doleey turned and jabbed a finger and a sneer at Nadean. "She wouldn't provide me her health insurance card."

Framme smiled and spun around with a nod to see Nadean. "Ah! I understand, now. Ms. Sims now has committed a criminal act, not paying for her clinical service. We can sue her ass for that one, too," he turned and smiled with a nod at Doleey. "Don't worry, you'll get her money."

Doleey shook a skull with a frown. "Ms. Sims paid for your visitation on July fifteen in cash. The sum was two hundred dollars in the dominations of numerous twenty dollar bills."

Framme frowned. "That is an acceptable payment of clinical services." Doleey shook a skull in silence.

The judge turned and frowned down at the bald spot of Doleey. "You seemed to have mismanaged Ms. Sims' visitation from start to finish, Dr. Doleey. She paid you in cash money. Then you must have a paper or an electronic receipt from her medical treatment on July the fifteenth," he turned and stared at Nadean. "Ms. Sims would have received a paper receipt for her visitation on July fifteen."

I sat back inside the chair, crossing both arms, shaking my curls at the judge with a grin. "I do not have a paper receipt or an electronic receipt of spent cash for two hundred dollars, since I was not there inside the professional office of Anthony Doleey," smirking.

Doleey gasped and frowned at Framme. "I didn't give her a cash receipt. She wouldn't give me her health insurance card or a personal check. My receptionist left that afternoon. Her son was sick. I am not used to handling the paperwork around my office. She slid money across the table. Then I accepted the cash money for her full payment of her first psychological session. Ms. Sims called me a quack then stormed out of the room."

"Good fairy tale, sir," I giggled with a grin at my big victory.

Winfred stood with a sour frown and turned with a sneer, jabbing a finger at Nadean. "See? She visited him. She always called psychologists, quacks."

The judge continued to frown at the bald spot on Doleey. "Before I release you, Dr. Doleey, as a judge, I strongly advise that you learn the legally required paperwork within your office for every client visitation. You are required to show all collections of monies on your US Federal income taxes. I believe a difficult task when you didn't possess your client's name, your client's address, or your client's favorite kiddie crayon color. Were your paid to tattle on Ms. Sims here inside my courtroom, today?"

Doleey turned and frowned at the judge. "Paid? I was paid a monetary fee for my professional opinion on her first visitation of her art work drawing on July fifteen for my testimony within the courtroom, today."

The judge smiled at Doleey. "Good! I heard a confession here. You may leave my courtroom, now, Dr. Doleey." He turned and frowned down at the hair roots of Framme. "Please call your next witness, Gene."

Doleey gasped in shock, standing with a sour frown and swiftly exited the courtroom through the open door.

I smiled with a nod into his sour puss face as he passed by the defense table. Dooley only grunted toward the open door.

Framme moved and stopped, standing in the middle of the court square, extending both hands with a frown and a nod to the judge. "Your Honor, I am so sad to report that Winfred Sims with his faithful wife Mrs. Sevilla Sims have found a set of pornography magazines, two packs of cigarettes, and a pint of whiskey alcohol along with a solo joint of marijuana pot. Each single piece of nasty and illegal contraband for a teenager of fifteen years old had been provided to the young Mr. Sims by his biological mother Nadean Sims under her non-motherly direct parental custody. We will prove the set allegations with an eyewitness report directly from the source."

The judge frowned. "Gene, this isn't a criminal trial. But we are finally getting to the good stuff. Call your eyewitness, please."

The door opened.

Framme spun around with a smile to see the open doors, "Jorge Mendoza."

I stood with a gasp and swung around with a worried brow. Jorge moved through the archway, down the aisle, and strolled through the swinging gates, stopping next to the nose profile of Nadean with a smile. I leaned over with a whisper and a concerned brow into his cheekbone. "I am so sorry, George."

Jorge winked with a whisper and a smile to Nadean. "Don't worry about me, chica. I have not done anything wrong, here. But this is going to be really fun. I know Framme from our showed Miami-Dade law school days, a real sleaze bag lawyer with really lousy lawyering skills. Your bastard ex-husband only likes to hang with his kind of scum." I exhaled with a puff of relief and a nod with a stern face. Jorge moved ahead, turning and stopped, standing in front of the bailiff. The bailiff performed the swearing in ceremony with a set of whispered words. Jorge raised a hand in the air and the other one on top of the Holy Bible, nodding with a smile to the bailiff. "I promise to tell the truth," he dropped both arms down to the side and turned, moving ahead and slid into the witness box, hanging both arms over the wooden railing with a smile at Nadean.

Framme moved ahead and stopped, standing in front of Jorge, blocking the view of Nadean with a grin and a nod. "Who are you, sir?"

He nodded with a smile. "I am her employer at Prensess and Prensess Law Firm in Miami."

Framme smiled. "How are you involved in this custody case?"

He shook a skull with a smile. "I don't exactly know, sir. I was subpoenaed to appear. I am here."

Framme smiled. "Explain your relationship with Ms. Sims?"

"I am her employer."

"You are an attorney too. What is your personal and professional relationship with Ms. Sims?"

Jorge smiled, "Nothing personal. She's a paid professional employee, a consultant. She consults at her home as a translator for both Spanish and French legal contracts for our Spanish and French law clients. That's all. No court experience is required or needed for this type of legal consulting work."

Framme smirked. "Did you advise Ms. Sims with her young teenager named Tanner for certain...?"

"I did not..."

"Sir," Framme frowned. "You must allow me to finish my questions, since I am the questioning attorney. You are the invited eyewitness into this courtroom for the contempt charge of abusive child custody. Do you understand me, Mr. Mendez? Please nod your head while I continue." Jorge smiled. Framme continued to frown. "Have you ever been at the home of Ms. Sims? Do you know her son Tanner Sims?"

Jorge shook a skull with a smile. "I didn't know the kid. I have seen his picture in the newspaper from the football games. Nadean doesn't have an office work desk inside our law firm. She performs all her legal work from her home. I've never seen her kid in person before today."

The judge turned and smile at OT, "Young Mr. Sims?"

OT stood with smile and a nod to the judge, "Sir."

The judge turned and pointed the gravel at the hair roots of Jorge. "Do you know this gentleman?"

OT shook his curls with a stern face, "No sir."

"Do you know that he is your mother's employer?"

OT nodded with a stern face. "I recognize the law firm's name and his proper name. That's all, sir."

The judge nodded with a stern face to OT and Jorge. "Very well, you may leave, sir."

Jorge stood with a smile and a nod to Framme, "Okay." He moved toward the set of swinging gates and winked at Nadean that everything would be fine.

Framme exhaled with a huff of annoyance, back stepping from the witness stand, moving ahead and stopped, standing beside Nadean. He leaned over and bad breathed over the hair roots of Nadean with a smile and a whisper. "Not only will you lose custody of your precious son, you will be doing some time in the slammer as these southerns like to say."

I looked ahead to see the middle of the judge's polished bench and exhaled with a puff of annoyance, feeling the palm of Vester on a collar bone as his palm slapped down for support and lifted for honor of beating the shit outta of Winfred and his sleazy lawyer later.

Framme spun around with a smile and a nod to see the judge. "I call as my next key eye witness Dee Woody."

The door opened.

I exhaled with a puff of nervousness, looking down with a worried brow at the scratched table surface with a heavy heart, not viewing Dee Woody. This was the reason for the contempt charge of abusive child custody.

Dee Woody had given Nadean three separate marijuana joints, in turn, Nadean gave to her fourteen-year-old son OT on the date of July, the fifteen, right before Nadean had hauled the ass of Winfred out from a prison jail cell within the city of Palmton for reckless driving.

I had not noted that OT had taken all his man-gifts from with him to visit his father Winfred.

Thus, two separate historical events that had lovingly meshed into one big fucking-ass mess for Nadean.

OT must've carried his child-man gifts and then shared with his childish friends within Palmton. Then the parents of the friends had tattled to Winfred.

Dee Woody moved through the archway, scanning the court gallery with a smile, moving down the aisle, through the swinging door and into the court square. He did not bother to acknowledge the hair roots of Nadean either.

I looked up with a worried brow and a heavy heart, watching Woody take the oath and the witness stand, barely breathing.

Woody stopped and stood in place, raising a hand in the air with a grin. The other hand rested on top of a flat Holy Bible with a nod. "I will tell the truth, sir." He turned and moved ahead, sliding into the witness box, scooting into the back rest with a smile and a nod to Framme.

Framme moved forward and stopped, standing very close to the witness inside the witness box with a smile and a nod. "This is an informal hearing, Mr. Woody. Your Honor, to clarify the eye witness for the plaintiff Ms. Sims. Mr. Woody works for Prensess and Prensess Law Firm as a consultant, also. I find an interesting similar to Ms. Sims, another consultant. He does not in any shape or form represent Prensess and Prensess. However, Mr. Woody had served some of his free time inside a federal prison for possession of a few common illegal substances, including marijuana, cocaine, and other illegal prescribed pharmaceuticals. Therefore, Mr. Woody is not under any police investigation by the Miami-Dade police district. He is a character witness for the defendant Nadean Sims and her alleged illegal action."

The judge turned and frowned down at the hair roots of Framme. "Let the man answer your question, Gene, before lunchtime rolls around here."

Framme smirked at Woody. "Yes, Your Honor, I have introduced the character witness for the plaintiff. Mr. Woody, I will remind that you are under the oath of the Holy Bible and our Almighty God inside a court of law within the city of Miami and the US State of Florida. Please address this question most truthfully for the judge and my client Winfred Sims. Did Nadean Sims purchase a single marijuana joint from you at any day or at any night time session between the dates of July thirteen and July eighteen of this year?"

"No." Woody smiled at Framme.

Framme frowned. "Mr. Woody, I will restate the question for more clarification to the judge and Ms Sims. Did Nadean Sims offer you a wad of money in the form of lump sum pile of cash, a personal check, or a credit card in exchange for the purchasing one single marijuana joint between dates of July thirteen and July eighteen of this year?"

"No."

Framme leaned over with a tongue of sour breath and a sneer into the smile of Woody. "Mr. Woody, perjury is punishable crime in Florida and..."

"Stop it, Gene." The judge slammed the gravel over the bench wooden surface with a stern face. "The man's answer is no. Do you have a second character witness for the question or the contempt charge of child abuse? If so, bring him or her to the eye witness stand, now. I grow inpatient with your silly mind games."

Framme back stepped with a sour frown at Woody, "No, Your Honor."

The judge exhaled. "You are dismissed, Mr. Woody." Woody stood with a smile and exited left the courtroom without acknowledging Nadean. The judge frowned at Framme. "What else do you want to present to the court room, Gene?"

Framme extended both hands even with the floor and spun around with a smile to see Nadean and OT. "I call out loud for the witness box young Tanner Sims."

I gasped in shock, standing and swinging around to see my son OT. OT stood from the chair with a stern face, moving sideways through the row of people, standing inside the aisle, huffing with a set of nerves.

The judge slammed the gravel over the bench surface, staring down at the back spine of Framme with a sour frown. "Before we lead young Mr. Sims onto the witness stand..." he looked up with a smile and a hand wave of the gravel to see OT. "Son, do not be afraid of me or this courtroom or that prosecution table. This is the way all court proceedings work. I believe that you will find the event, most fascinating."

OT marched down the aisle with a stern face, moving through the swinging doors and stopped, standing next to his mom Nadean with a worried brow.

I leaned up and gently kissed his soft cheekbone, pulling back with a nod. "Tell the truth inside the witness stand, OT." I nodded with a fake smile and a heavy heart.

OT looked down with a worried brow to see the floor and his mom Nadean. "But, the truth..."

"Always tell the truth, OT. No matter would the consequences, okay, darling?"

OT nodded with a stern face. "Okay, Mama. I will always tell the truth for you, only." He turned and moved ahead, stopping and stood in front of the bailiff, placing a hand on the Holy bible and a palm in the air. The bailiff mumbled the swearing ceremony words. OT nodded with a stern face. "Yes sir, I always tell the truth to Almighty God and Brother Jesus." He back stepped and turned, moving ahead, sliding into the hard chair of the witness box, looking with a stern face to see Framme.

Framme advanced forward and stopped, standing to the side of the witness box, so Nadean could see her son OT. He smiled. "Young Mr. Sims, may I call you, Tanner?"

OT shook his shoulder length curls with a sour frown, "No sir, I am young Mr. Sims to you."

Framme frowned at OT. "Did you smoke pot on the date of July fifteenth?" OT turned and stared at his mom Nadean, his dad Winfred, and the prosecution lawyer Framme, shifting uncomfortable inside the hard chair. Framme smirked, discovering the truth from the teen, saying with a sour frown. "Young Mr. Sims, I want to remind you that this hearing is about your mother, not you. Of course, while the sale of pot is illegal and the possession of pot can cause jail time for any individual, I want to remind that you are a minor, a child within the eyes of this courtroom and protected by law that requires you to receive adult supervision at all times. I want to remind everyone this court hearing is seeking out the rightness or wrongness of all the adults that are associated with you, young Mr. Sims, who is both the son of Mr. and Mrs. Winfred Sims. I want to remind here. The judge will determine the best interest of the child, who is the biological son of the former Mrs. and current Mr. Winfred Sims. I want to emphasize that you, young Mr. Sims, have placed your right hand on The Holy Bible which represents honesty and truth. Don't ever be afraid to tell the truth, son."

OT smiled, "I tell the truth as taught to me by my mama, sir."

Framme smirked. "Did you puff a joint of pot on the date of July fifteenth?"

OT said with a stern face to Framme. "Yes."

I held my breath, sitting inside the first chair at the defense table, watching without tears my son OT.

Winfred and his wife Sevilla danced inside an individual chair at the prosecution table, bumping an elbow into each while smiling and chuckling with happiness.

Framme spun around with a smile to see Nadean and then back to OT with a smirk. "You are a minor as seen in the eyes of the court. You quite obviously did not purchase the illegal substance on your own without a set of quick legal ramifications from a local law enforcement officer at a crime scene. Therefore, an adult must have acquired the illegal substance for you, since you have admitted under oath of God that you did smoke on an illegal marijuana joint on the date of July fifteen. Please tell this court, the judge, and your father who provided you the illegal marijuana joint, containing the illegal marijuana which is commonly called pot by the other teens?"

"Juan." OT turned and stared at Juan inside the last row of the court gallery.

Sevilla stood with a gasp and turned with a yell. "Juan," she looked at her fourteen-year-old biological son with written fury on a distorted face. Winfred stood upright from the chair and turned with a gasp to see Juan also.

Framme spun around with a gasp to see the unfamiliar teen and a single row of high school teenagers against the rear wall of the court galley.

I sat inside the chair with a grin and turned, straining a neck muscle to see the rear wall of the court galley, scanning the amusing sight of dancing and cheering teenage males, too.

Juan stood upright from the chair with a grin and bowed down with a fit waist, standing upright with a chuckle and then slid back down into the chair as his chair was between his high school buddies. He tossed both arms into the air as each teen male slapped an ear-popping high-five into an open palm with a loud chuckle that echoed throughout the quiet courtroom.

I swung around with a smile and a snigger to see OT.

OT stared with a smile and a nod at Juan and turned with a wink and a grin to see his mom Nadean with his slick answer.

I was not concerned about the court gallery seeing that sly maneuver from my boy. All eyeballs on each body and each brain were attacking poor Juan both physically and mentally.

OT wiped out the stupid grin from a face and stared at the back spine of his father Winfred.

Winfred spun around with a confused brow to see OT.

Sevilla spun around and slammed the chair back into the wooden railing, jabbing a sneer and a finger at OT, "That boy..."

The judge slammed the gravel on the bench surface with a stern face and a serious tone. "Silence here! I will have silence here inside my courtroom. Everyone, please sit down. That's a command, not a request."

Framme swung around and rushed back to the witness box, leaning into OT with a sneer and a sour frown. "Young man, lying under the oath of the Holy Bible is a called perjury which can be assigned jail time in a real prison setting immediately. As a high school student, you do not want any type of mark on your citizenship record which might interference with a future sporting scholarship from a college university." He stood upright and jerked down the business jacket down from the bowtie, calming a redden face with a growl. "I will ask a second time. Who provided you that single joint of pot? I warn you to tell the truth."

OT frowned. "The truth is I don't lie. I'm a southern Florida gentleman as I have been taught by my mom, who practices and preaches her southern manners down here in Florida. And the truth is that bitch, my step-mommie abuses me by starving me, without food, when I visit my dear daddy at his personal house. For some reason, you can ask that bitch, since there is not any food, especially when I'm left alone at night in the darkness house."

"Lies," Sevilla continued to stand with a hiss and jabbed a finger at OT.

The judge turned with a sour frown and pointed the gravel at Sevilla with a growl. "Silence and sit down, Mrs. Sims. Do not make me state that twice. Please precede, young Sims." He turned and stared down at the silver tinted hair roots of OT with a stern face.

OT frowned with a nod. "When I visit my dad, my dad is at work until nightfall. Then he meets Sevilla for dinner. Then I don't see him until the next morning on Saturday. Sevilla is required to pick me up at the high school, because she was ordered by my dad. Or she does not receive her dress shopping money for the week. Then she dumps me at the house alone without food and supervision. Her son Juan is picked up by his dad who lives in Miami and spends the entire weekend with his dad and his dad's family while I sit alone and hungry and scared."

Framme frowned. "Scared, son, you're almost a man at fifteen years old?"

The judge reached down and slammed the gravel down on the bench surface with a sour frown. "Silence and sit down, Mr. Framme. Do not make me state that twice, either. Please precede, young Sims."

Framme spun around with a sour frown, moving ahead back to the prosecution table in silence.

OT turned and stared at the face of Winfred. "Then when they come from outside dining with full bellies..."

Framme strolled toward the table with a sour frown and a matching tone, "Your Honor?"

The judge bangs the gravel, "Silence."

OT nodded with a stern face. "They come home. I hug my dad for two seconds then I am sent upstairs into my bedroom inside his house that is located at the top floor of a three-story structure, most people call an attic. It's tiny and hotter than hell..."

Framme turned and sat down inside the first chair of the prosecution table with a sour frown at OT, "Your Honor?"

The judge shook a skull with grin and a chuckle at OT. "Hotter than hell, that's quite an aggregation son."

OT shook his curls, turning with a stern face to see the judge. "No, Your Honor, it is an understatement. The temperature gets up and over eight five degrees or at night inside that little room. I sweat like a booger and toss and turn, can't sleep and tired and hungry and irritable all the next day. I just wanna leave and go back home to my mama and her nice home. I discovered that my dad's expensive house has a separate air condition and heating element for that tiny room, which is not used, when I'm not there due to the expense of money for the high electricity power bill. So Sevilla cuts the air conditioning off, well, actually she doesn't bother to flip it on before I arrive or during my visit or after my department. The tiny room faces west, the hottest part of the day. Man, at night, I sweat. One time, Juan gave me permission to use his private bedroom with the cooling air conditioning unit functioning. So I snuck down from my tiny room and inside there and get catch by Sevilla, who threatened bodily harm on my mama, if I tattled on her and the air conditioning."

Framme stood with a huff of annoyance, jabbing a finger at OT with a sour frown. "Your Honor, this young boy is fourteen years old and much too young to know fact from fiction with his highly imaginative and creative mind. I request all datum be stricken from the record as I path towards the real issue in this child custody case."

The judge turned and smiled at Framme. "That was the opposite argument to me for allowing the teenager's testimony to uncover the truth about the pot smoking and the adult responsible for his academic probation and demise of teen character, a week or less ago. I believe that those were your exact words Gene," he turned and nodded with a stern face to OT. "Young Sims, please tell the court what words Mrs. Sims describes to you about your mother."

OT shook his curls with a stern face to the judge. "Your Honor, I'm too ashamed to say those nasty words in public, since my mama has taught me to behave like a southern gentleman, at all times. And I don't want my mama to hear that filthy stuff going into her precious ears, sir."

The judge smiled with a nod, "Well said, son! Would you be interested in repeating those filthy words into my ears with a private session in my office?"

OT nodded with a stern face. "I can do that, sir."

The judge nodded with a smile, "Excellent, we will make it so."

Framme frowned at OT. "Are you going to punish for the child for filthy language exhibited in this courtroom today, Your Honor?"

The judge smiled at OT. "Good point, Gene. I think I will personally reprimand young Sims for his non-gentleman conduct during the fit of fury," he turned and frowned at Framme. "Is this good enough for you, Gene?"

Framme exhaled with a huff of annoyance, "Yes, Your Honor!"

The judge smiled with a nod. "Excellent. Mr. Framme, any more questions for young Sims, because this will be your only chance to examine him, again, inside my courtroom?" Framme shook a skull in silence. The judged turned and smiled with a nod to Nadean. "The child custody order will remain in effect until the child turns eighteen years of age along with a monetary increase of child support for an additional three hundred dollars per month as it was requested by the custodian guardian, who had prepared, provided, and attached a new supplement financial statement to her contempt charge."

Winfred leaned over and hissed into the face of his lawyer. "What the fuck is this, Framme?"

Framme stared down at the scratched table surface with a sour frown in silence.

"Justice," I stared at the judge and whispered for my eardrums only with a second victory until OT was eighteen years old and ready for college.

Both Vester and Vassar reached over and gently slapped a hand over each collar bone of Nadean with a smile.

12:02 p.m.

Courthouse parking garage

Sports car setting of Nadean and her son OT

Vester and Vassar and their partners surrounded and escorted both Nadean and their nephew from the courtroom into the two separate vehicles. Vester and his brother and their partners entered the single rental vehicle, driving away from the courthouse and toward South Beach for a night of partying and fun. They would meet with Nadean and OT tomorrow for lunch.

Nadean stopped and stood by the driver's door, waving a hand to her twin brothers for the visit with her to the courthouse, turning and entered the sports car.

The door slammed shut.

OT stopped and stood by the passenger door, waving a hand with a smile to his uncles, turning and entered the vehicle.

The second door slammed shut.

OT turned and frowned at Nadean without buckling into the seat. "What's this all about, Mama?"

I stared with a puff of annoyance at the steering column, without starting the car. "You, OT," I turned and frowned at him. "You are the trophy prize that your dad wants to capture and hang on the fireplace mantle for the world to see."

He shook his curls with an angry face. "Cold, Mama."

"True, OT." I did not start the cold engine, saying with a worried brow. "Why did you slap my hand when I cussed your dad out the other day?"

He exhaled. "I wanted to give my dad that one chance in hell, showing me that he really is an asshole. I couldn't do that with you bad rapping into my eardrums."

I smirked, "Your conclusion, Your Highness?"

OT turned and looked down with a sad face to see his hands. "My dad is grade a-plus asshole."

"And I am a..."

"...an angel, Mama," he looked up and turned with a smile to see his mom Nadean then frowned with worry. "Is Juan going to jail?"

I turned to face the wind shield and started the car with a stern face, "No, sweetheart! Juan, your dad, and Sevilla will be thoroughly investigated by State of Florida local chapter of Children Care Agency. The worse that can happen is that Juan's dad will receive sole custody of him until he is eighteen years old with visitation rights from Sevilla. Does that bother, Juan?" I backed out of the parking spot, steering the vehicle from the courthouse and toward our house in Coral Gables.

OT shook his curls with a smile at the nose profile of his mom Nadean. "Naw, his plan worked perfectly. I helped too. I'm glad that I helped. Juan wanted to live with his dad for years, but Sevilla halted it somehow by blackmailing his dad. Now, that's all gone."

"When you visit your dad..."

He shook his curls with a sour frown. "Naw, I ain't visiting with that bitch, again. My dad can come and see me at your house. We live close by. And he can drop by for his total ten minutes once a week. It doesn't make me happy or sad. He only wants money, his real baby son, money. You pulled a bunny rabbit out of your ass, Mama."

I steered into the city street with an annoyed frown, driving toward our home. "How many times have I insisted that you don't cuss in front of me, baby boy?"

He grinned at her nose profile. "I lost count. Anyways, you conned my dad out of his first love," laughing. "Man, you shocked me into a heart attack, Mama. You got hairy balls, Mama. Presenting a motion for more money..."

I steered with a smile and a nod. "Good lawyering..."

"Slick lawyering, I'm going to be a lawyer like you, well, not like you. You don't really practice the real stuff just read those stacks of papers."

I drove with a smile. "Don't knock my stacks of papers. You're old enough to understand complex math equations. I get paid three thousand dollars for each folder."

He smiled. "Whoa, really, just reading a piece of paper?"

"I review all the pieces of paper which is sometimes as many as twenty pages of a single legal agreement in Spanish or French for grammar errors. I correct the error and charge three thousand dollars for their little mistake and my big reward."

He nodded with a smile. "That's cool, Mama. I've finally learned and will never forget that you're willing to sacrifice all your resources, time, and yourself for me even going to jail. I really appreciate and love you, Mama. But please don't do murder for me, okay?"

That's a ten-four and a never ever, boy," I steered with a grin and a giggle. "I will never do that not even for you. I do follow and live by the Ten Commandments of the Holy Bible."

He smiled with a nod. "Good."

I drove with a confused brow. "We're even, sweetheart. I just don't understand. Why didn't Woody turn me into the judge? He lied with his testimony on the witness box."

He frowned at her nose profile. "Woody lied about what, Mama?"

"He lied about giving me the three marijuana joints."

"Did you give Woody money, Mama? Did you exchange money for the joint?"

I drove and shook my curls with a stern face. "No, that particular day, I walked into Woody's office and then he handed me a wrapped green foil without even speaking to me like a secret ritual. I came home without opening the foil and handed it to you, OT."

He chuckled with a nod. "Woody didn't do anything wrong or illegal, Mama. He gave you a gift like money or beer or Dee Dee's cards for food. It's only illegal to purchased marijuana joints from a drug lord using money. So, Old Man Woody just answered the question truthfully, because my dad's stupid-ass lawyer only asked if Woody received cash money for the marijuana joints?" He shook his curls, reminding his mom to find the scissors and then whack out his silver tinted shimming locks of wavy hair. OT grinned. "Next time, you wanna make me real happy, Mama, go and get me three female bouncy stripers, instead of three skinny joints. Sex acts last longer."

"OT, no, absolutely not! Go and ask your uncles for that entertainment tickler." I turned with a red face into the driveway of my house, entering the garage and killed the engine.
Present day and place

02:53 p.m.

City of Birmingham within the State of Alabama

(24 miles, south, from Warrior)

Hidden underground cavern with red clay soil, gray limestone rock walls

Humid temperatures with damp air conditions

"OT..." I whisper and feel the burn on my right wrist bone while slowly exhaling with pain, closing my eyelashes and relax my body. My mental mind continues to daydream away the clicking time and the physical pain, concentrating and reliving some specific moments from my past adult life.

Forty-seven years old Nadean and her seventeen years old OT

Monday March 1st

10:10 a.m.

City of Coral Gables

Home of Nadean and son OT

Florida room setting

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

I had never entertained as a southern belle like some many of my former Bama school mates, since I was a working girl. I reached down and place the round glass tray of apple slices, cheese sticks, and chocolate cookies, not home-made on top of the low table. I was a successful working girl.

My son OT was a senior student at Coral Rock High School, interviewing for a sport scholarship to college.

The door sounded with a knock.

OT ran and slammed into the front door with a nervous chuckle, back stepping and opened the door in silence, glazing at the head coach of the Birmingham University football team.

I turned and waved with a hand and a smile. "Please come inside." The Coach was tall and overweight, entering the house first and then two more slightly tall and overweight males with a third short male as all of the males followed behind the leader.

OT moved backward with a smile and a nod, stumbling over the sitting chair with nervousness that he knew lived there since his birth. The Coach stopped and sat inside an oversized sitting leather chair beside the long sofa, where the three other coaching staff members sat with a grin and a nod to OT.

I stood in front of the other long sofa with a smile then did not smile, then smiled and finally clear a dry throat, pointing down at the food tray of purchased goodies. "Help yourself to the refreshments. I'm Nadean, OT's mother. Why don't you explain this process to the both of us please?" I reached over and grabbed the arm of OT, shoving him down to the sofa beside me with a smile and a nod. OT sat in silence with a permanent grin on a face, staring at the coach.

"OJ was not our first, second, third, or fourth football player pick during the high school interview sessions," the Coach smiled with a nod at OT. OT nodded with a smile in silent nervousness.

"OT," I frowned at the Coach. "I never played as a young adult within the female sporting leagues like some other talented sporting girls. But I know that the fifth string athletics ain't the sharpest tools in the garden shed. So's..."

The tall male pointed with a smile and a chuckle at Nadean. "Hey, ya sprouted a southern accent. Ya from Bama?"

I smiled with a nod to each coach. "I was born and raised like a pinky piglet from the small cotton farm town of Brier in the great state of Alabama, a triangle farm land within the middle of the metro cities of Huntsville, Decatur and Athens."

The Coach smiled with a nod at Nadean, "Burn U fan?"

I smiled with a nod to each coach, "Burn U graduate."

The Coach nodded with a smiled. "Well, Mrs. Sims, we want OJ to play for us as a defensive lineman. He isn't. His performance at the annual high school bowl game caught our eyeballs, changed our minds. We got us nine good defensive linemen, this year."

OT nodded with a smile of nervousness to the Coach. "Burn U is predicted to carry off the National Championship, this year."

The Coach turned and nodded with a smile to OT. "That's right, boy. We are and we want OJ with us..."

I frowned with a huff at the Coach, "OT for Orion Tanner."

The Coach nodded with a smile to OT. "He'll be a red-shirted freshman, of course. That means no playing time in his first year at Burn U. But ya know sometimes things happen for the best, son. Now, if'an your mama agrees to all the Birmingham University rules, regulations, procedures, laws, and all that other horse shit then you will be playing with us this fall. The springtime football practice will start in June, but you can catch up with us there, son," he reached over and patted the collar bone of the shorter male. "This is our roaming accountant for Burn U, who needs to talk with your mama." He stood with a nod and a smile to Nadean as the other two coaches stood with a grin and a nod at OT and Nadean.

I stood with a smile and a nod to each coach.

OT stood with a smile, dancing side to side with happiness, leaning over and hugged, lifting Nadean from the floor as her son was seven feet tall with a smile, "Mama?"

I whispered into his smile. "Put me down, honey." He lowered Nadean to the floor with a chuckle and a grin. I continued to smile with a red face and a nod of excitement for OT. "Yes, I do agree. I am sending you to play football at Burn U, OT."

OT danced side to side with excitement with a smile and a nod. "Thank you, Mama. I love you. This is the happiest day of my life. I'm going to play university football at Burn U, your old school."

I smiled with a nod. "I'm very happy, OT. I can't wait to see you pounce on Bam U's quarterback."

OT winked with a grin, "Just for you, Mama."

The Coach reached over and tugged on the shirt of OT with a grin and a chuckle, "OJ, let's toss some balls while your mama wraps of the business stuff." He turned and moved to the closed front door, exiting first.

The coaches and OT turned and followed behind the head coach of Burn U football team.

The door did not close.

I turned and frowned with a yell at the back spine of each coach. "OT for Orion Tanner," smiling. I enjoyed watching OT act like a silly little zoo monkey, feeling like I was going to vomit or faint or both.

My son OT was going to play football for my old alumni Birmingham University within the city of Birmingham that was nicknamed Burn U.

The three member of the Burn U team stood and moved to the tall table with the four chairs, pulling out a chair and sat, lifting and placing a stack of papers from the briefcase with a stern face.

I continued to watch through the front window with a smile as OT tossed the football to each coach. I bumped into the leg of the chair at the tall pub table, stopping and stood, back stepping and pulled out a chair with a grin and a giggle, sitting and stared down at a stack of thick paper for the college entrance of my son OT. I reached out and lifted up, rattling the provided blue colored ink pen in a writing hand, feeling sickly nervous about the financial commitment of paying for the apartment, the car payments, the wardrobe, the food meal tickets, weight fitness program fees, the paper notepads, the number two pencils, the ink pens, the erasers, the bed linens, the bathroom towels, and all the other personal needs for my son OT as he moved and lived away from his birth city of Coral Gables to Birmingham for college.

I exhaled with a puff of worry. If OT had accepted the local sports scholarship to Miami-Dade University, then he could have lived her at home with his mom without spending money from her personal bank account. I stared down at the dotted line with a smile. "Where do I sign in the big stack of papers?"

The accountant stared down at the stack of paper with a sour frown. "Mrs. Sims?"

I waved the ink pen in the air over the dotted line with a smile. "Dr. Sims, I am divorced for many years now from Mr. Sims. I'm OT's custodian parent responsibly for everything."

He nodded at her silver tinted hair roots with a stern face. "Dr. Sims, I would like to point out some very important regulations before you sign this legal document."

I continued to stare down at the papers with a smile and a nod. "I'm a lawyer and understand the importance of legal documents."

He smiled down at her hair roots. "That's excellent news, Dr. Sims. You and your son live in the State of Florida, not in Alabama. You are residents of Florida, not Alabama. OT will be an out of state academic student at Burn U."

I continued to stare down at the papers with a smile and a nod. "Yes, I understand that. The out of state school tuition is more expensive than a legal resident of Alabama."

"Good, I am coming through. Young Mr. Sims also possesses an associate-degree in foreign languages being a graduate of the Florida School system."

I looked up with a smile to see the accountant. "Yes, I'll very proud of OT."

He frowned. "Burn U is not."

I gasped. "I do not understand."

He turned and stared out the front window, where the coach was signing autographs with the neighborhood kids. "Coach is a teacher of football, not an academic professor," he turned and frowned at Nadean. "He sorta misled you, Dr. Sims. Burn U will not be providing young Mr. Sims with a football scholarship this year."

"I definitely understand that OT is a red-shirted freshman on the Burn U football team not being eligible to play football in any of the twelve games. But he must surely qualify for a free education."

He shook a skull with a stern face. "No, he will not. Young Mr. Sims will be accepted onto the football team. Burn U will accept him as a transfer represented as a junior student within his college academic studies. He only needs two more years of accounting classes. Then he will graduate with an accounting degree. The university has evaluated his grades and his longevity and has decided to rescind any financial obligation such as any scholarship."

I parted my lips, "Wait, my son has obtained an associate's college degree but isn't eligible for any type of scholarship at Burn U."

He nodded with a stern face. "Yes, ma'am, that's the bottom line for him to attend Burn U. You as custodial guardian are required to pay the school's tuition, books, meal ticket, and housing. He must live within the football dormitory for both protection and security."

I frowned. "The football dormitory isn't free either."

He frowned. "The football dormitory is completely filled with the scholarship candidates for the upcoming academic school year. Young Mr. Sims will be inside the new apartment complex exclusively for the football players. I am afraid that everything costs money at Burn U. I heard said that you attended..."

"...many moons, ago. I lived off campus, too."

"You completely understand."

"I lived off campus being close to the campus but away from the crowds. Yes, I completely understand."

"Yes ma'am."

"What else do you need to tell me?"

"The tuition and books plus the above mentioned items total ninety-eight thousand dollars."

I gasped. "F...fine, the monetary amount is ninety-eight thousand dollars for nine months, when is that amount of money due?"

"Actually, the amount of ninety-eight thousand dollars represents a time frame of twelve months. Football practice commences for the rookies on June first. Young Mr. Sims needs to be enrolled into classes and set up in his apartment by June, the first or he doesn't play football. The ninety-eight thousand dollars is a payment which is due upon signature of this legal document by May, the thirty-first or before," smiling.

I frowned. "Can I set up a payment structure?"

He shook a skull with a stern face. "Uh, ma'am, college doesn't work like a bank with a parent financial loan. You might want to visit your personal bank before you sign the legal document now ensuring a monetary loan of cash for his freshman student year."

I turned and stared out the front window, seeing the neighbors. They slapped on the collar bone on OT with a set of smiles. OT was so happy, smiling and laughing with the coaches and his neighbor friends. This was a wonderful dream for him playing university football.

OT might not be professional football material, needing a good job for his future work. This was a wonderful dream for Nadean, helping to complete the education of her son for a real paying work job.

I turned and smiled at accountant. "I can write you a personal check now. Is that okay?"

The accountant smiled with a nod. "Yes, ma'am, that would greatly rush through the paperwork guaranteeing OT his apartment suite."

I frowned. "What about his academic classes?"

"I am leaving a new summer class schedule for both the short academic mini-sessions. OT can select any class he wants for the first session months consisting of June and July."

I stood from the table, back stepping and turned, moving into the kitchen, grabbing my purse and pulled my checkbook, swinging around and returned into the dining room table, standing in front of the table. I slammed the checkbook down to the table, lifting the flap with a puff of worry, reaching and held the pen, looking up with a stern face to see the accountant. "Ninety-eight thousand dollars, is this the total amount you require for my son to be enrolled into Burn U?"

He smiled with a nod, "Yes ma'am."

I looked down with a stern face and scribbled out the amount, signing and ripped out my personal check, looking up and offered the check with a smile. The accountant reached over and tapped a finger onto the first tab for her signature of the legal documents. "You follow the yellow tabs, Dr. Sims." I had a set of monetary US federal government saving bonds ready for cashing. I had scrimped and saved since I divorced Winfred for this awesome moment when the university dream of football plus a higher post-education for my son.

Vester had told Nadean that their mother's wet dream had failed when she was pregnancy with her first child Nadean. So their mom had lived out a wishful dream through her first born child Nadean.

I was not my mother, one. I had a son, two. I did not want to play football but OT did.

I sat inside the chair, leaning over and wrote out my signature on the last page.

The accountant stared at the hand signature with a smile and a nod, "That will be it, Dr. Sims." He reached out and pulled back, straightening the stack of loose papers into a neat pile, stapling the check on the first place and placed the papers down into his worn brown leather briefcase. He closed the briefcase and looked up with a smile to see Nadean. "You and OT come to Burn U for the apartment key and other school permits. You are solely responsible for the university's leased property. And there are more papers to sign before the university releases the key to OT."

I nodded with a fake sign and a worried heart. "I understand."

The accountant stood from the chair and scooted back from the table, leaning over and extended a handshake with a smile and a nod to Nadean. She shook and released the hand with a fake smile and a worried mind. He turned and moved toward the open door, exiting her house and strolled down the front porch brick steps to the coach and the coaching staff, stopping over the manicured lawn and nodded with a smile and patted his worn briefcase to the coach.

I followed behind and stopped, standing in front of the front window.

OT passed the football back and forth to one of the assistance coaches with a laugh and a grin of happiness. He had been accepted into Birmingham University, a redneck school known for football.

I smiled then frowned with a whisper. "You are solely responsible for the university's leased property." I turned and moved to the wall with the small table that held a landline telephone, reaching out and lifted up the receiver with a smile, dialing the familiar telephone number and waited on the connection of the ring. "Hello, Winfred."

Nadean paused and listened to the voice on the other end of the telephone receiver.

I exhaled with a laugh. "I'm always intrigued that you answer the telephone on the first ring when I call. I'm not coming after you for not paying the last two months of child support. I have received the child support check on time like the previous one hundred and sixty-seven ones. What do I want then? OT is going to Burn U."

Pause.

I smiled with a nod. "Burn U, the redneck school in Birmingham, Alabama that I graduated from and the redneck state that birthed me, too."

Pause.

"Yes. OT is going to call you with the great news, too. So, please be very surprised. The Coach is here on the lawn, passing footballs with OT. This is very exciting and thrilling for OT. He's going to play defensive lineman. Our son might even be good enough to go Professional Football. O yes, my point of this telephone call, I only call ya when money is involved being OT's only biological father who lives and breathes..."

Pause.

"Naw! That ain't a threat. I'm a southern belle, not a southern bitch. OT turns eighteen years old in May. Are you planning a birthday party?"

Pause.

"It needs to be soon before the graduation day and the Memorial weekend. He's going with some high school friends to the islands of Key West. They've rented a fishing boat for some deep sea fishing off the coast..."

Pause.

"Yeah! My twin and gay brothers are paying for the entire fun trip. They're also supervising the teen trip too. I love and trust my brothers too."

Pause.

"You invite then I will remind OT to go directly to your house after the graduation ceremony ends. You can applaud and accolade him to death before his big send-off on June first to the great state of Alabama after the Memorial Day weekend. You do know where the State of Alabama is located, don't you, Winfred?"

Pause.

I exhaled. "I know that we have discussed OT's post-graduation education. And he will receive his associate's college degree in the month of May along with his high school diploma. Are you and Sevilla coming to the graduation?"

Pause.

"Each parent gets four tickets, Winfred. And don't ask me. No, you can't have my extra tickets. My brothers are coming with me. Ya know there's a waiting list for free graduation tickets but an unlimited listing of paid graduation tickets."

Pause.

"Yeah. I did take all your money to raise your only biological child with proper food, water, fresh air, sunshine plus clean but ripped blue jeans. OT grows like Johnson grass. I think he has finally finished. He stands at six, eleven, taller than my brothers."

Pause.

"I called for another very good dang reason, Winfred. College is very expensive. Yeah, he does receive a football scholarship not in his first year. In sports the athletes have to wait out the first year. So the scholarship doesn't care everything like..."

Pause.

"Naw, you haven't heard all my arguments. He has a college fund. We started then I kept it up since his first day of life. OT didn't get an academic scholarship anywhere around the State of Florida. His grades are not superior to the true geniuses of the world. Yes, I agree. He did receive a sport scholarship from Palmton Junior College near your house. That's a tiny school. Listen to me, Winfred. OT is going to Birmingham University, a great big school. The football games are televised on your seventy inched plasma screen, every Saturday afternoon."

Pause.

I giggled. "Sell some of my jewelry. I can't believe you're still stinging about our ugly court date room encounter when not getting any of my gems or money. That jewelry is old but not as valuable as you think."

Pause.

I nodded. "I understand. OT is your son, Winfred. Your only son unless..."

Pause.

"Sevilla hates with the capital letter 'H' our biological son. Sevilla hates my son because she lost her son. Juan wasn't framed, Winfred. OT smoked it and then admitted it right in front of a judge. What was the judge supposed to do turn his cheek or blind an eyeball?"

Pause.

"I understand that Juan's very happy living with his dad all these years. That's very clear. But OT is fifty percent of your responsibility, too, Winfred. You're his dad. Children are a blessing from Almighty God, Winfred."

Pause.

I nodded. "You did pay me an average of one thousand five hundred dollars per month. Where's the money? It is called living expenses for your only biological and breathing son. Yeah, I guess our deal is done. I promise not to fuck on you anymore, Winfuck. You know being a father is more than..."

Pause.

"Yeah. I like using that name when appropriate. You're his biological dad whether you admit it or like it. You are also responsible for your biological son's needs, including food, water, clothing, shelter, and education. We both want OT to get a college degree and go to work, not depend on us."

Pause.

"Sell my mini-mansion? Where did that term come from? I will be selling my house that I have purchased and paid. I'm moving to the small metro city of Birmingham along with my son. My home town is near there too."

Pause.

I giggled. "I can't cut the purse strings. Mamas don't own scissors."

Pause.

"You will play some of OT college expenses, if I allow OT as a deduction on your US Federal income taxes. Geez, my answer is no. I pay income taxes on the child support checks. Therefore, I earn the right to take OT as the deduction. And I pay for his food..."

Pause.

"Your final answer is no."

Pause.

"Yeah. I understand fuck off very easily," I released and leaned down, slamming the telephone receiver over the hook with a sour frown and a matching tone. "Fuck you, Winfuck. One resource down," I lifted the receiver, standing at the window. OT was passing footballs with the male neighbors. The Burn U football staff had left my neighbor community with friendly handshakes, photographs, and autographs. I was good at math numbers, recalling the bank telephone number, tapping out 5550818, listening to the tone ring. It connected, "Good afternoon, my name is Dr. Nadean Sims. I have a son graduating in the month of May who wants to attend a college out of state. I would like to set an appointment to speak with one of your financial planning consultant along with securing a financial loan for my son's college expenses."

Nadean paused and listened to the female voice on the other end of the telephone.

"Good! You can assess my credit line on the telephone. That would be marvelous, darling. My bank account number is 101000768291."

Pause.

"Thanks. I do have excellent credit line and am in good financial relationship with the bank. Can you guess the max limit on my bank loan?"

Pause.

"Ten percent of the bank account or another asset, the asset is my house at two hundred thousand dollars. That's a nice lump sum. That's excellent. Tomorrow morning at fifteen minutes after nine o'clock is an open time from my busy schedule. Who's the assigned financial planning consultant's name?"

Pause.

I frowned. "O goody, a surprise, I'm very appreciative of your swift service. That's why I enjoy banking with the Third National Bank of Florida. Good day." I leaned down and gently replaced the receiver on top of my pink princess telephone.

The landline telephone was a 'wife gift' as Winfred verbally described it on our wedding day.

I paid for both our wedding bands and then supplied for free of charge a four-caret engagement ring that belonged to my Grandmother Garland. The diamond ring wasn't her personal jewelry. One of her sons had given it to her during a holiday treat.

My Grandmother Garland didn't wear it, having her own engagement ring from her husband.

During our first months of marriage to Winfred, the telephone was a very thoughtful and kind present that represented the color of pink for my pretty girly beauty and femininity belle manners which had received and remembered years ago.

Now, all my pretty pink plans had changed from a puke green vomit halt into a green light go to a midnight emerald of danger. I would survive like always.

I back stepped from the wall and the telephone, turning and strolled to my office desk which lived near the wall of the living room and stopped, standing at the drawer. I pulled out the drawer, grabbing the bank statements and the listing of all my current bills expenses. I held up a safety deposit key thinking that I might have hidden some extra money cash inside the box living with the ancient jewelry.

I had lived within the US of Florida for almost thirty years a long time ago after graduating Burn U. Then I suddenly daydreamed of Teague, an old forgotten name from my past youthful life. He was probably an old hairy farmer with an old plow horse, mowing down the back forty cotton boll crops.

I back stepped from the office desk, turning and moved into the Florida room, stopping and leaned down, grabbing the tray of goodies with one hand. I stood upright and slowly turned, moving into the dining room, stopping and stood in front of the tall pub table, sitting down the heavy tray of goodies. I slid into a chair, slamming all the papers over the naked table surface, spreading the papers into some type of order for my active brain cells.

I reached over and grabbed a cookie with a giggle and a whisper. "Stress makes me eat. Okay, I have saved up two hundred thousand dollars for the past ten years, not bad for a single working mother with a single overgrown teen boy. However, the number ninety-eight thousand dollars minus the other number of two hundred thousand dollars leaves me with one hundred and two thousand dollars. Geez! Gone in a second. Okay. Burn U is paid for next the twelve months from the months of June to May of next year along with the college shelter, the college tuition, the college books, and the college food for OT.

"Electricity, water, and sewer for the new apartment are paid by mommie, me. OT isn't living in the cheap-ass student dorm but the new expensive chic football complex. The amount is estimated at seven hundred dollars per month. Ugh, that is eight thousand and four hundred dollars per year. Vester and Vassar are going to present OT with a new car next week. Ugh, a new car means more car insurance for a teen. I will take OT's newer car then sale my older van for some quickie cash, too," giggling. "That should help with the annual utilities inside OT's new apartment." I read the fine details of the college papers from the Burn U accountant. "Ugh, the apartment is empty. No furnishings are provided," I turned and stared at my furniture with a nod. "Well, OT can have all my paid and free furniture, since teen boys do teen things. I'm moving into a small house in Birmingham, just me. And there's the moving van fee for all the furniture from Miami to Birmingham. Geez, that'll probably be about ten thousand dollars, if I'm a lucky ducky," giggling. "I need a new mattress, a loveseat, a cheap table with a couple of chairs. OT can have all the electronics, including the television, the musical stereo, and the vacuum cleaner," giggling. "I gotta teach that boy to cook and clean between now and June first." I turned and studied the papers again with a sour frown. "Geez, my girly intuition is working overtime. There is an addition monthly expenditure for the telephone, the television, and the computer hookups, of course. The monthly amount is five hundred dollars. I am paying one thousand two hundred dollars for an apartment that I will not sleep an eyelash inside. That sucks."

I reached over to the edge of the table, grabbing another cookie and the morning newspaper, rattling the paper and find the real estate property section and read in silence with a grin. "There's a house for sell over two blocks from me, selling for seven hundred thousand dollars," I stood with a smile, looking through the front window at the front landscape with a nod. "My mini-mansion, this grass lot is four times bigger with four bathrooms and four garages. Hmm, I might be looking at two million dollars for my mini-mansion." I chewed and swallowed the cookie with a smile. "Then all my money problems are solved. I'll place a 'for sale' sign in the yard in the month of May and sell this sucker myself. I'm a lawyer, excluding the realtor and keeping the commission. So fuck off, Winfuck!" I reached over and grabbed another cookie with a laugh and a smile, enjoying the sweet taste of victory.

Tuesday May 12th

09:10 a.m.

Downtown Miami

Third National Bank of Florida

ATM machine setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

I drove the car from work and stopped inside the crowded parking lot. I exited the car, dashing to one of two ATM machines before the other working people. I stopped and stood at the empty machine, shoving the ATM card through the slot, accessing money for gasoline and other living expenses. Then the ATM ate my card. I exhaled with a puff of annoyance and a loud grunt, "Shit." I back stepped from the machine and turned, stomping over the hot brick and into the cool air condition lobby with a heat temper. I stopped and stood in front of the reception table with a sour frown. "My card got eaten."

The nice girl at the reception desk nodded with a smile to Nadean, turning and typed on the computer keyboard. "I'll release it. Usually, the ATM card is repossessed when you have an insufficient bank account."

I stood and shook my curls with a sour frown. "Well, I don't."

She stopped typing and stared at the computer screen, turning with a fake smile to see Nadean. "Please have a seat inside the reception lobby. I will be contacting the bank manager for you."

"For a freaking ATM card...." I back stepped from the reception desk with a sour frown, hitting the soft fabric of the chair and sat with a stern face.

09:20 a.m.

Business office setting of the bank manager

The bank manager moved from his personal business office and stopped, standing over the silver tinted hair roots of the elderly woman with a fake smile. "Mrs. Sims."

I sat inside the chair and looked up with a sour frown to see the business suit of an unfamiliar male. "No, I am Dr. Sums."

He nodded with a fake smile. "I can help you today. Please follow me into my private office." He spun around with a stern face, marching ahead to the office.

I stood and exhaled, turning and followed behind his back spine with a sour frown in silence.

He led into an open door, allowing Nadean to enter. Then he closed the door for the private bank conversation.

I moved and sat down inside one of two business chairs in front of his desk with a sour frown in silence.

The bank manager sat down into the office chair, turning and typed on the computer keyboard, puffing and huffing and swung a stern face to see Nadean. "Your student bank loan for the academic institution has been denied. Are you going back to post-graduate school, ma'am?"

I cringed at the old maiden term and faked a smile. "No, my college age son is starting his post-graduate school. That's okay. I have reserve monies to pay for his schooling. I was hoping for a bank loan to help you spend all your customer's saving accounts lying lazy and idle."

He frowned. "Do you work for us, ma'am? You seem very knowledgeable about banks, bank accounts, and banking process."

I smiled. "I am smart. A bank uses all the combined customer's saving accounts to lend and load cash monies to low-risk persons and businesses. That's why I can't withdraw over three times from my healthy personal saving account within a month without paying you a hefty monetary penalty."

He smirked. "All your financial liquid assets are frozen including your personal bank account of checking and saving."

I gasped. "My son Orion Tanner Sims has a trust fund."

He nodded with a grin. "The baby trust fund is under his authority and your control. You were very smart setting it up with access age limitation being he is only a teen."

I frowned. "OT has thousands upon thousands of dollars of saving bonds that was acquired from his first hour of birth. What about my personal bank accounts? What's the cause of my frozen ass...assets, sir?"

"I have some rather unfortunate news based on the newest electronic notes. Winfred Sims is being sued."

"So's?"

"Pardon me, sew." he frowned.

"I'm from the South. That's Bama language. So's, the word is equal to a violent nasty verbal quotation instead of rudely mumbling the exclamation: what the fuck for, sir?" I was pissed that the bank didn't honor my bank loan application as a very good customer for a million years and more pissed that my money was inaccessible to me as a current bank customer.

"Winfred Sims is being sued for an undisclosed lump sum monetary amount."

I frowned, "So what?"

"Your bank account has been frozen by the US IRS Office. Do you know what the IRS is, ma'am?"

I exhaled. "I know what the IRS is and does. Why is it affecting my bank account?"

He turned and pointed at the computer with a stern face. "The letter explained it."

I shook my curls. "What fucking letter? I didn't receive a letter."

"Mrs. and Mr. Winfred Sims received a letter from the US IRS office. He emptied his entire pension plan."

"I am a CPA. That's legal."

"He didn't report the monies to the IRS, ten years ago. He owns seventy fifty thousand and six hundred dollars."

I looked down at myself painted red colored toe nails and back up to see him with a confused brow. "Ten years ago, we were married. I filed our US Federal income taxes. There wasn't an additional 1099-form for any type of additional business revenue."

He frowned. "Winfred Sims depleted his pension account, ten years old. The US IRS claims that he didn't report the amount on your joint US Federal income taxes."

"Fuck, you're fucking with me."

He frowned. "Ma'am, I don't approve of your language."

"And I don't approve of blackmail. I'm simply stunned and sorry. Winfred owes the money, not I, to the IRS."

"The US IRS believes both of you owe the monies of seventy-five thousand and six hundred dollars. The US IRS letter has directed us to freeze your liquid assts until a lump sum payment of seventy-five thousand and six hundred dollars or a discussion meeting with the IRS or an arrangement with our bank. I am sorry. I am following the IRS regulation. You cannot access any bank account monies."

I looked down with a confused brow to see the desk surface and back to him. "I haven't received a letter."

"Did you check your mailbox? We received this letter Friday afternoon."

"Fu...fun non-stuff, fine, good advice, I will do just that. I need..."

He turned and typed on the computer keyboard with a sour frown. "The second item, Winfred Sims has managed to wreck the cigarette boat. The bank is seeking monetary damages for the late monthly financial loan payments."

"The baby cigarette boat?"

He turned and smiled at Nadean. "Ah, you're familiar with the popular sea craft transport."

"So what?"

"All these collective money transactions have required the Third National Bank of Florida to freeze all your personal banking assets both the checking and saving account."

"What?"

"The TNBF has contacted your husband Winfred Sims..."

"He is not my husband. I have been divorced for him for over ten years."

"He can relate fully. His personal assets have been frozen, including the house, the cars, and all the credit cards also. I would strongly advice for you getting a lawyer to expedite this financial matter quickly with TNBF, Mrs. Sims."

I frowned. "I need some cash. My son has a trust fund that I rob, never. Could you provide me one thousand dollars until I clear up this minor incident with my ex-bastard husband?"

He nodded with a smile, turning and typed on the computer keyboard. "I will gladly provide you the monies, as long as, you are civil, Mrs. Sims. I'm divorced too with a child. My former wife and I work very hard to maintain being civil to each other and others."

I exhaled. "You didn't divorce a monster."

09:43 a.m.

Prensess and Prensess Law Office

Downtown Miami

Business office of supervisor Jorge

I left the bank with money and fury, speeding down through some of the red lights and squeaked the black rubber, stopping inside the crowded parking lot of the law firm, where I worked a second job for money, too.

I scooted out the sports car and moved to the front door.

The door opened.

I moved inside, nodding in silence to the receptionist, turning and dashing down to see my supervisor and entered the open door. I slid into the nice leather chair with a smile and a nod. "Hey, George! I'm leaving you, babe, for another hunky young male," I winked at him. "OT is going to Burn U."

Jorge smiled with a nod at Nadean. "Burn U, the university might, maybe, almost possibility win the National University Football Championship, this year."

I frowned. "Bull with baby bull shit patties, they will win the championship with OT as the newest and greatest linebacker. So, I'm selling my Coral Gables estate and moving back home to Alabama."

He grinned with a nod. "I might have a prospective client. You're Gables property is very, very nice. When are you moving to Alabama?"

I smiled. "The seller can just write me a check tomorrow or faster. And Winfuck owes the US IRS seventy-five thousand plus dollars in back US Federal income taxes. Can you negotiate a settlement for me, since my name is on our shared joint income tax form, ten years ago?"

Jorge turned and typed on the computer keyboard, accessing the IRS records as legal lawyer, seeing the information with a frown. "You and your ex-husband were ten years ago. Chica, the time limit is older than my grandmamma in Cuba. He owes more in IRS money penalties than the real paycheck income taxes. The IRS gets their money in penalty mode, not the other way around. You pay or prison. Your draw, chica? Are you being audited by the IRS, too?"

I shook my curls with a smile. "I don't look good in vertical orange colored stripes. And I haven't received any notification of an IRS audit of my current income taxes yet."

He turned and winked with a smile to Nadean. "I bet you look good naked, Nadean. You're the hottest old chica that I know."

I smiled. "Fuck you, George."

He chuckled. "When the US IRS office audits you, do not tattle about me. I pay you underneath the table behind the closed door with no windows and no telephone or television cameras."

I handed over a second piece of paper with a smile. "Fuck you, George! Can you respond to this frivolous case with the Third National Bank of Florida for me as my defendant's lawyer? The bank has frozen my other ass cheek."

He accepted the letter with a chuckle, "Your assets?" Jorge turned and typed on the computer keyboard again, searching and viewed the outstanding lawsuits underneath Nadean with a confuse brow. "That's weird, chica. Are you involved in lawsuit litigation, Nadean?"

I shook my curls at his nose profile. "I'm a sleazy lawyer, not a bank teller. I need money for food, whiskey, and a gun. O wait, I do possess a loaded weapon."

"Please don't mention with my eardrums that you bring a loaded fire arm into my private lush office. Or I'll piss on my new Persian rug, Nadean." He grinned at the computer screen, reviewing the information. "Frivolous law is the practice of carrying on a lawsuit that has little chance of winning."

I smiled at his nose profile. "Frivolous is legally worthless for my ass as well." He chuckled. I exhaled. "This a frivolous law suit for me, without any legal merit. The bank is just harassing Winfred's ass which happens to include my ex-butthole. Then I can sue the bank for bringing about a frivolous suit liable for damages of malicious prosecution making me some fast cash, darling."

Jorge turned and nodded to her, "Community property law of husband and wife."

I frowned. "I'm not married to the asshole."

"The husband and wife are each given an equal interest in everything. You provide OT with necessaries, as such, food and clothing and shelter. He lives with you. It is a criminal offense for a dad to fail to meet a support child obligation for his son."

I frowned. "What is this thing about, George?"

"Florida is a state that adheres to the community property laws. The husband and wife are given an equal interest in everything that they own, including transportation vehicles with the exception of the separate property or vehicle in their individual names. Winfred owns a boat."

I frowned, "Shit, and that boat was in both mine and Winfred's name."

"At the time of the divorce, based on personal desire, Winfred picked the boat, you received the van. There was no prenuptial agreement for the boat, since the item was acquired during your marriage which presents with both your names. The trend now in the court system is that the husbands and wives of dedicated loved ones are attacking and winning law suits for damages from injuries to their dead kin precipitated by such things as medical malpractice, automobile accidents, false imprisonment and wrongful death."

I frowned. "I didn't kill the man. I didn't drive the boat. I wasn't on the boat. I wasn't at Winfred drunken party on the Atlantic Ocean."

"Today, a married husband and wife are equally liable for their own criminal actions. And the privileged communication law extends to you, but you can't be compelled to testify against your spouse. You know this, Nadean. You're an attorney."

I exhaled, "Sorta."

"The key word here is former spouse. The key court case of US Supreme Court in Trammel versus United States, husbands and wives can talk against each other when permitted to testify against one another voluntarily in a federal criminal prosecution matter. A dead man equals a dead beat ex-husband, chica."

"The boating occurred over two years ago."

"Lawsuits take lots of time and lots of patience, resulting in lots of monies for the non-criminal party, if the victim can wait. Sometimes, the reward period is longer than two years. I find it very lucky that you were given this now." He turned and smiled at her.

"I..." wanted to kill Winfred.

"Blame your elected and voted for congressman, Nadean. Because, under the Dangerous Instrumentality Doctrine that was created in the year 1999, an ex-wife can be found liable for a boat title. On June tenth, two years ago, Winfred was sailing intoxicated by himself operating his speed boat, when he struck and killed the plaintiff's husband. She has named both you and Winfred in the lawsuit, and is suing both of you involving a claim for wrongful death. In Florida the title holder of any moving transport involved can be held liable to the victim of any moving automobile or sea craft or flying accident. The boat purchase, the loan payment schedule, and the legal title are autographed by you and Winfred. Winfred was still paying the monthly payments on the boat."

I gasped. "Jeezus, I thought he sold that dang boat. He told me that he sold that dang boat."

"He sold the dang sports car. He kept the dang boat. Apparently, Winfred only pleasures himself with the boat, not his wife. This will go to a trial court to be decided by a trial jury, you can testify for your absence on the boat trip and then death accident," exhaling. "I hope they find you are not the one of two owners of that dang boat at the time of the accident."

"But I am not."

"Under the Dangerous Instrumentality Doctrine, the Florida legislation imposes limited liability on the owner that all the owners are permitted the use of any vehicle. The owner, who permits someone to list their name and use their vehicle, is liable for the operation of the boat..."

"I wasn't there..."

"Or the act of the driver in connection with the boat as cited by Florida Statue 71.90 defines the owner or owners as a person or persons who hold the legal title."

"Me."

"They'll flee bargain for a big monetary settlement instead of trial time..."

I gasped, "Jail time for Winfred."

He nodded with a smirk. "He's in jail, my stupid new girlfriend."

I smiled. "There really is a loving Almighty God. Amen."

"Winfred is in big shit trouble, Nadean. He might lose his professional job which will domino down into his lovely house, his sports car, and that bitch of a wife he married.

"Too fuckingly bad."

"You like reading the Quartet e-novels, too."

"Well, my..." I smiled. "Yeah, I do."

"Their lawyer is citing two legal propositions of this case in which you..."

"Me."

"You are the most popular girl on the planet today, chica. You, not Winfred, failed to do the following two items. One, as a matter of law, a former and formal wife must take action to divest her self to avoid liability on de dang boat. Two, as a matter of law, releasing possession of the boat during the divorce is not enough to release the wife's legal interest or in this case involvement." He frowned. "What do you want to do, Nadean?"

"Shit."

"...not in my office please, darling. This is a new Persian rug. I wanna remind you a bit too late. A legal liability can reach out and bite your cute ass, touching with cold creepy finger pads those who are completely unaware of the possibility of jail time or blackmail."

"You're not a big help, George."

He chuckled. "Did you cuss him out when he called you from his prison cell yesterday?"

I smiled. "I didn't call the bastard. I came straight to my lawyer first. And I don't have an assessment on my house just to be nasty."

"Actually, Winfuck did as soon as he became sober from the alcohol, after crashing the boat, killing the male, before he got dumped into jail, last week. I gots, using your cute belle slang, the assessment of your mini-mansion."

I frowned, "Mini-mansion?"

Jorge grinned. "The bank analyst called your residential home on Leonardo a mini-mansion. He was very impressed. I'm very impressed with the great big fat number. Your mini-mansion is worth three million dollars, chica."

I leaned over the desk surface, holding my skull in both palms with a sour frown and a grunt, "I'm finally rich to be exhorted into bankruptcy. Ugh, I hate my fucking life."

He stared down at her hair roots. "Lucky for you, they want exactly three million dollars. We counter with one point five million. They demand two million. Then we counter with two point five million."

I looked up with a sour frown to see Jorge. "The math number is going the wrong way, George. It's supposed to go down."

He nodded with a grin. "This is a courtroom auction, babe. Everything goes your way or their way. Which is it to be, Nadean?"

"Start the counter at one point one million for my shitty fun, after I sale my pretty house. I came in here to tell you that I'm moving back to Alabama anyways. So, selling the mini-mansion ain't breaking my heart, since my heart is my son OT, not some plot of Augustus grass and artificial cement pond."

"You're a good brave bold mother, Nadean."

"And where is Winfred's ass in this shitty mess? He should cough up the other millions. What did his lawyer fib to you about this time?"

He shook a skull. "Winfred ain't got no money, honey. I have sixteen voice messages from the son of a bitch, wanting to meet, desiring to party, pissing on my front door, since I ain't opening the door. Winfred wants, needs, desires and has to knowledge of what you can bring to the table, the chair and the bed, sweetie."

"Ugh, I can't pay everything at once. I have a son going to college in June."

"That means your court-ordered child support is gone. Winfred isn't obligated to pay anything for OT's college and can't really, since he's in jail, temporarily."

I tossed both arms with a smile. "I crashed and burn, Commander."

He exhaled. "I strongly recommend a bank recovery counselor."

"A what?"

"A who? The Third National Bank of Florida has a new division called Bank Recovery. You, chica are highly qualified. Winfred can't wipe his ass with a piece of clean toilet paper. He can't buy any. You are going to have to huff up and pay the IRS plus the lawsuit of three million dollars or do some jail time. I am very frank and serious, Nadean."

"Understood."

"The bank will act as a mediturd..."

I smiled. "Ah, they get a piece of my ass when my turd falls out. That's clever, George," giggling.

He turned and tapped on the desk calculator with a stern face. "The seventy-five thousand and six hundred dollars will be divided by three years for two thousand and one hundred dollars per month. Then, the bank will add about five hundred dollars for a grand total debt of two thousand six hundred dollars-per-month, making you pay out to pay ninety-three thousand and six hundred dollars."

"That's about ninety-three thousand and six hundred dollars which is paid out over three years of time. Can't I expand the debt for five years, instead of three? Even a bank car note is five years."

"This calculation is based on your current salary, chica."

"Dang! I am too smartie. Wouldn't it make better sense to pay off the IRS debt rather than carry the seventy-five thousand and six hundred dollars plus some heavy money interest during the three years?"

He frowned. "Do you have that kind of cash, Nadean? Do you have a money source with that much liquid cash like an uncle or a sibling? That would solve all your financial worries."

I looked down with a sour frown to see table surface. "No, I do not."

"You have a son in college. Colleges are worse than churches wanting your money for every little thing. And they don't take credit cards. Go and see the bank recovery counselor. She can work magic with your monthly financials so you can function while OT enjoys his time in college. Then when OT graduates you will be debt free."
Present day and place

02:55 p.m.

City of Birmingham within the State of Alabama

(24 miles, south, from Warrior)

Hidden underground cavern with red clay soil and gray limestone rock walls

Humid temperatures with damp air conditions

"OT..." I whisper and feel the burn on my left ankle bone while slowly exhaling, closing my eyelashes. I relax my body and as my mind mentally remembers another specific moment from my past adult life.

Forty-eight years old Nadean and her eighteen years old son OT

Friday May 29th

City of Brier within US State of Alabama

(747 miles, north, from Coral Gables, US State of Florida)

10:01 a.m

Home and farm of Jadean and husband Urall

Kitchen setting

Warm temperatures with parted clouds of sunrays

I stopped and parked the old van from my divorce inside a familiar and newly painted driveway, banging the steering column with both hands, without banging my forehead from frustration.

My bank recovery counselor was very nice and sad that I was leaving the state of Florida. Duff Loyce set up Nadean very nicely with a monthly payment plan, balancing all her outstanding debt and the yearly expenses.

So I needed three jobs to make and meet the monthly budget. I received a new first primary job at the Birmingham Hospital as a physicist in field of work in one day after spending my hard working George Washington's for the air flight and the face-to-face interview in Alabama.

I had sold the old sport car of OT to one of his high school buddies, getting enough peanuts to pay off the bank car note, making my son happy. That was the point of life, happiness, especially, seeing him smile and kissing my face.

I had left OT and my old smelly and banged up furniture at Birmingham University campus, barely filling up the brand new university apartment. The newly calculated nine-hundred-dollar monthly luxury suite did not come furnished, not even with a single tall kitchen garage trashcan. So Burn U needed an additional two hundred dollars that bit into my ass and then my money's butthole for something else, thou.

Her dad's ancient and historical antebellum house looked freshly painted but plain. Urall couldn't afford all the extra monies for a fancy new trim around the windows or some glossy new color on the old wood.

I wrecked my sports car last week, when a stupid drunk driver ran through a stop sign while OT was fishing with Vester and Vassar, Tank, and Duke off the coast of Gulf of Mexico. I spent the first evening inside my own hospital within a hospital bed and then rode inside a taxi cab back home, the next day. I slept the entire Memorial holiday, not really remembering the days and the nights. Then I met OT at the sea port, getting off the boat, the early morning of Tuesday.

Her twin brothers and their partners immediately departed for a business trip, not knowing the mental or physical condition of Nadean.

I didn't want to worry them and they didn't notice my sports car was missing, either.

The mountain paradise of Vester and Vassar could only be accessed by a helicopter at the local airport, so they would never know about the wrecked sports car of Nadean. However, I was getting my revenge by suing the bastard for wrecking both my body and my car which shall provide some financial comfort by the end of the calendar year.

Since, the double wedding of both her gay twin brothers, our family was totally disfuckation, ya'll like her brother Vassar had predicted almost twenty years ago. However, I enjoyed visiting my brothers, not my mom in Alabama.

The large lawn was neatly trimmed, lacking an array of pretty colorful pink or yellow or orange flowers, since her mom Nadean was not a gardener or a cook or a housekeeper, only a bitch.

Moving to a new place was a sucky experience but moving out-of-state was a shaky evolution as I drove an old rusty van from the state of Florida into the state of Alabama with a combination of mine and OT's clothes, an assortment of big and working electronics, and columns of cleaning and good smelling linens for his college apartment and my new living apartment within metro city Birmingham.

OT left the day before, race car speeding from Miami, Florida to Birmingham, Alabama in record time, apparently, based on the three traffic citations in his new sports car which was a gift from my twin brothers Vester and Vassar for high school graduation.

The old van door creaked open.

I slid out the worn leather seat, standing upright, huffing and puffing with nervousness of the impromptu meeting and marched forward up the broken brick stairs and stopped in weathered front door, wheezing with nerves, sneezing with from the fresh air. I knocked.

The door opened with a creak too.

Jadean stood inside the archway with a sour frown and a pair of black colored bedroom slippers. "Nadean, well, I can't say that it's a wonderful surprise. Ya keep yourself hidden away down yonder far away in that big international city of Miami, Florida away from the hillbillies, including my grandchild for months." She back stepped and turned, moving into her favorite hold, the kitchen.

"I work, Mama," I entered through the archway, turning and following behind her ass inside a bath room during the middle of the morning time.

She led into the kitchen, stopping and slid down into the padded chair at the breakfast with a sour frown. "Still working your three jobs?"

"Yes, Mama," I stopped and slid into the same table, exhaling with a puff of annoyance of her nosey questions like a southern bitch.

She stared with a sour frown at Nadean and stirred the coffee. "Doesn't Winfred contribute to OT's welfare? He should. He's responsibility for the boy being a shit ass of a husband and an asshole of a daddy. Ya married too soon after you meet that man, Nadean."

"Love is deaf, dumb, and blind, Mama."

"Look at Dorcee's life. She has Lance Morris, a nice boy and five good kids."

First, her mom had always called the husband of Dorcee by his first and his last proper Christian name. Nadean had learned from my college psychology class, the mental technique was called inference.

Her mom Nadean mentally inferred, exerting her authority power over a poor horse whipped Lance Morris with the same sour note tone plus the long winded inflection of the letter 'L' and then added the sick hissing sound of the letter 'S.' She bragged on the five wicked children of Dorcee who each really needed a big thick hickory switch popped on the denim of blue jean cracks, whipping some proper southern belle manners into a hard headed skull. Social manners were beaten into your brains via your bee-hind.

Ponder that one, ya'll.

Jadean never mentioned that she had birthed a set of twins, since the marriage and exodus of Vester and Vassar from the tiny farm town of Brier. Her two brothers escaped making Nadean feel both sad and shitty. She was part of the cause of defeat within the family relationship when she had brought a hand gun to force her mother to attend a beautiful gay wedding. Her mom didn't talk to Nadean for a lovely and quiet nine months after that wonderful social event that had been eye witnessed in silence by the biological blood-kin family of Garland and blessed by Almighty God.

I didn't give a shit and neither did Vester nor Vassar, since I stayed in touch with the only family that mattered to me, not a weak-mined dad or a bossy Dorcee or an arrogant mom.

Now, the tides had turned from the Atlantic Ocean shoreline. I needed some intermediate tender loving care and financial help along with a physical place to stay and shit my turds.

I nodded with a stern face, staring down at the old wooden table surface of scratches. "That's great and wonderful for Dorcee. I have great news. OT and I have returned back home to Bama."

She smiled. "Thank the Lord, my baby girl has returned home. Are ya running away from Winfred?"

I shook my curls. "Naw, Mama."

"Is Winfred beating and bleeding on OT?"

I looked up with a sour frown to see her nose profile. "Naw, Mama. Winfred would never do any violent act to his biological child." Even thou, Winfred did ram my skull against the wall, before we divorced. However, I did not feel like leaving the great State of Florida under his dictatorship along with my great job, my great mini-mansion, and my great bank account.

Gawd, I was a dumbass for not seeing Winfred's faults, fake motives, and false moves. I truly honestly loved him with my open heart and two wandering hands.

"Do ya gots a paying job?" Jadean stood from the chair, back stepping and turned, moving around the counter tops, reaching out and grabbed a cloth, wiping down the clean counter tops. She only thought in terms of money, one, and two, money.

I smiled a grin and a nod, staring down at the scratches over the breakfast table. "OT's going to attend Birmingham University and play college football."

She nodded with a grin, continuing to wipe down the clean kitchen counter. "Good school. They be predicted to win the college football national Championship."

"Burn U is always predicted to win the football championship, every year. And that don't happen not last year, not the year before that."

"Ya shouldn't shush your school. Burn U won the National Football Championship when you twirled as a majorette for the Burn U marching band. You were a real pretty majorette, the prettiest majorette on the baton twirling squad. Then ya up and quit the majorette squad, knocking your chance as a Hollywood actress. Why ya do that, girly? You were about to be famous Nadean. Get an acting job in Hollywood as a movie star, make lots of money, be a millionaire. Buy stuff, clothes, shoes..." she looked down with a confused brow to see the boots on Nadean. "When the last time ya mouth spit polished your cowgirls, girly?"

I stared at each table scratch with a blank face, "Three years ago," I spun around inside the chair with a smile to see Jadean. "Mama, I plan to return back home to Brier but I need a place to stay."

She stopped cleaning and frowned, "What?"

I smiled with a nod. "OT is living in the college football dormitory, so I can stay in my old room."

She shook her gray curls with a sour frown, "Naw, Dorcee's first born gots your old bedroom after ya cleaned out your shiny tiaras and big trophies, carting all them boxes down to Miami, Florida. Ya displayed that stuff in your house? What about your pretty house?"

"Who's in Dorcee's room?"

She frowned, "Dorcee, who else? Don't ya know that Dorcee and Lance Morris have lived here since long time right after her graduated from high school? They stayed right here. Lance Morris is a good field hand and helper, helping your daddy all the long day and hot night with the cows, cotton, and corn."

"Uh huh," I parted my lips as she started that lecture, again. I had left my homestead, abandoning my dad, rejecting my family, leaving my home town, and giving up my right as the head cowgirl.

She nodded with sour frown. "Your daddy promised you as first cowgirl. But, naw, you be too good for the country living, girly. You up and drove your sports car to Miami, Florida for a fancy paying job. What ya called, again?"

I giggled. "Unemployed."

"Physissy."

"Physicist."

"Physissy, you impress our town folks with your fancy car, your fancy clothes, your fancy title. Ya call yourself, Dr. Garland."

I spun around and smiled down at the scratches on the table surface. "Only at my work, I'm required to be respectful of all other co-workers."

"See we be plain folks around here in Brier? We don't call folks, Dr. Garland. I be Jadean. Dorcee is Dorcee. Urall is Urall. You is Nadean."

I nodded to the table surface. "Yes ma'am."

She stared down with a grin at the rear skull of Nadean. "What happened to your fancy house, Dr. Garland?"

"Part of the divorce..." I stared down with a stern face at the table and fibbed to protect my ego.

She smirked. "We visited ya for that court trial where ya beat OT."

I spun around with a sneer and a sour frown to see her smirk. "I have never touched, beaten, slapped, or harmed my son. I will never touch, beat, slap, or harm my child. Mama, please remember that."

She smiled. "So's, ya got no house in Miami, Florida."

"No ma'am." I stood from the chair as it slammed into the wall. I side stepped and moved forward, moving into the living room with a sour frown and a yell. "I gotta go. I gotta get to my job. Bye, Mama." I turned and left the kitchen, moving toward the front door.

The front door opened.

I moved and stopped over the freshly painted porch.

The door closed.

I marched down the brick stairs and moved toward my old van.

10:20 a.m.

Driveway of Jadean and Urall

Old rusty van of Nadean

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

The door opened.

I slid into the worn and ripped front seat, leaning over, staring the warm engine. I had not been there long or successful enough, saying with a sour frown. "Damn you, Mama. I really need a place to stay and eat for free. You don't understand my situation and you birthed me into this cruel world." I backed out the driveway, steering toward the end of the road and stopped with a worried brow and a nod. "OT didn't get a money scholarship for his tuition or his books or his meals. I'm solely responsible for his entire college education plus his food and his clothes. Dear Lord, please don't let OT grown any more in inches. Ugh, my son has studied and earned an associate's college degree in foreign languages. If I was a mean bitch like you, mama, I would make OT get a paying job and then pay for his own college like I did." The street traffic cleared.

I drove on Brier Road at a slow speed and turned onto the interstate, driving less than the speed limit, going back down to metro city Birmingham, my new home. "I'm not a bitch like you, mama. I want OT to enjoy his college days, not work for pennies to pay for hamburgers at Dee Dee's. So I'm smart and resourceful. I have a good job as a physicist. Geez, I make hundred dollars per hour for two hundred thousand dollars per year. Then I pay sixty percent in income taxes. Geez, I wished Uncle Sam was really my uncle," laughing off the stress.

01:01 p.m.

The Donut Hole

City of Homewood within US State of Alabama

(66 miles, south, from Brier)

(6 miles, south, from the Birmingham city limits)

Dining room setting of Nadean

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

I exited from the interstate to think, pulling and stopped the old van into the parking lot of a restaurant for a break and a brain storming session, feeling depressed and hungry.

The door opened.

I scooted out the van leaving the door unlocked but slammed it shut. You had to slam it to shut completely closed.

I moved ahead to the door.

The door opened.

I strolled into the cool air conditioned dining room and sat down into the cool feeling leather booth, pulling out the old worn notebook of paper and an ink pen with a stern face.

The waitress approached and stopped, standing down at the silver tinted hair roots of Nadean with a smile and a popping gum. "What'da ya want, honey?"

"Three vanilla crème donuts and milk, please," I ordered and scribbled down the floating numbers from within my brain.

My head spun out of control with my monthly expenses, including the hefty IRS payment of two thousand and six hundred dollars plus adding into the mix all of the expenses from OT. The expenses included an apartment, the food, the personal teen items, the utilities, the gasoline, the mobile telephone, and the car insurance plus car payment.

OT had crashed his brand new sports car that came from his two uncles, yesterday. So, I had swiftly purchased the same car for OT, yesterday, too. I didn't have the black heart to tattle-tale to my brothers, because my only child is too dearly loved and dangerously reckless.

Her twin brothers had earned their assets with hard work and long sacrifice. They would not understand OT's fun things or funky ways of his teen enjoyment. The teen year of both Vester and Vassar were spent on a working farm or studying rocket ships. Therefore, OT and I had sworn a black secret down into our graves about crashing that dang car.

I added in the extra expenses of my lifestyle, consisting of the car insurance on the old van, the gasoline, the food, and the storage center of junk boxes minus the cheap-ass apartment. I was left with two dollars of free spending, each month. I had to pay for a hotel room for the next two nights, since I was not invited to stay my parents. My new job started on June first while I hunted for a cheap-ass apartment.

The waitress returned with a smile, popping the gum, placing a plate and a cup of milk near the elbow of Nadean. "What else do ya need, honey?"

I exhaled with a puff of defeat, "A cheap place to live in B'ham," I lifted and ate the first donut, chewing and nodded to her in silence at the good food.

She popped the gum with a smile and a nod. "Ya just moved here, sugar? Well, up the street, the Valleydale Apartments goes for two hundred bucks per month, including water and trash, not power. Ya gots to pay for heat and air."

I swallowed the food, saying with a smile and nod. "I don't have a job." I lied. I did have a new job but I did not want to embarrass the hard-working girl.

I swiftly remembered when Zeeta had embarrassed me. I worked as a lowly waitress to pay the rental of townhouse for my family members, because my Grandfather Sloan could not, since he was about to die and pass into heaven.

She smiled with a wink to Nadean. "Ya can works here. Can ya runs a cash register, sweetie?"

I smiled with a nod. "Yes, I possess...I am good at numbers."

She smiled, popping the gum. "Well, I be short on staff, today. If'an you run the register for me, I give ya a paper, that you works here, then they rent you an apartment," she snapped her fingers and the gum at the same time with a giggle. "Like that, the apartments are clean. No spiders. They gots ninety-nine channels of the TV too. There is a special move-in at two hundred bucks. And if'an ya tell them I sent ya over, then I gets one hundred buck off my rent for the month, too."

I nodded with a smile. "That's sound lovely for both me and you. You can write your name on a sheet of paper too for the hundred-dollars discount on your month rental. May I start the cash register sales, now?"

The waitress popped the gum with a smile, back stepping and turned to the cash register.

I stood from the booth and turning with a smile and a nod of hope.

Saturday August 18th

03:03 p.m.

City of Birmingham

Birmingham Hospital Radiation Department

Lobby setting of physicist Nadean

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

I lounged inside the radiation department lobby space within Birmingham Hospital on top of the long and soft sofa with a pair of socked feet over the low table, a beverage in my right, and a bowl of potato chips on my left. I watched on the biggest hundred inched television device and ate all the snacks, seeing the Burn U football team, not dominate the University Eastern Florida Football Team which was nicknamed Manatees.

I had been working on the calculus calculations while setting up my football tail gate.

No one saw or bothered Nadean, since the rest of her co-workers were outside in the pretty sun playing or shopping or goofing off the weekend days of Saturday and Sunday.

I worked on Saturdays afternoon, since I did not own a television monitor, seeing all the Burn U televised football games, and once in a while a bench-warming OT.

The television sporting announcer said via the television screen without a face, showing the players on the football field. "Burn U is down by five points which is less than one touchdown of seven points, being so close to the end of the football game, folks. This is not looking good for Birmingham University, losing the first game of the season with eighteen seconds left on the time clock."

I chewed with a sour frown, mouth spitting the used food particles over both hands and my shirt. "Put my son into the game, Coach. Geez, I'm paying for all this entire 'mule and horse' show. At least, let him get a bloody nose. Naw, let OT give the Manatee quarterback a bloody nose. Yeah then, I'll feel a helluva lot better about paying you ninety-eight thousand dollars with no cents for twelve calendar months."

The television sporting announcer said via the television screen without a face, showing the players on the football field. "A new player from the Burn U side is running onto the game field. It's number ninety, OT Sims."

I jumped from the sofa, spilling the bowl of potato chips over my clothes, the furniture and floor with a scream, waving one hand, not the soda. "That's my boy. Go, OT. Yay, Burn U, go, OT. That's my son." I stopped jumping, placing the soda can down over the low table, staring up at the television screen with nervousness.

The television sporting announcer said via the television screen without a face, showing the players on the football field. "The ball is snapped. The manatee quarterback looks for a tight end and pow down into the chest. It is a quarterback sack on the Manatee team, the first one of the entire game by a new powerful quick defensive end, OT Sims."

I jumped up and down, screaming with happiness and waved both hands with a smile, "That's my son. Go, OT. Go, my boy, my little angel."

The television sports announcer said via the television screen without a face, showing the players on the football field. "Both teams have lined up. This is fourth down action play for the Manatee team. They must punt to finish off the Burn U Bolts and win the first game of the season. The ball is snapped for the last play of the game. New kid OT Sims swiftly dodges the opponent and then beautifully blocks the football kick, missing the field kicker purposefully, watching the ball bounce over the kicker's helmet and onto the green grass. He elegantly scoops up with two open palms the football with a pair of two black leather gloved hands, without tumbling down onto a toe. He runs on cleats down the field like a roadrunner for a winning touchdown. Burn U wins the football game, folks. It is an incredible finish by Burn U and their newest hero, OT Sims." The Burn U crowd stood and cheered.

I danced around the empty lobby, waving my arms, shaking my ass and smiled at my boy on television, all seven feet and no inches of solid muscle, a defensive end for the Birmingham University Bolts, who had helped Burn U win the first game of the football season.
Present day and place

02:59 p.m.

City of Birmingham within the State of Alabama

(24 miles, south, from Warrior)

Hidden underground cavern with red clay soil and gray limestone rock walls

Humid temperatures with damp air conditions

"OT..." I whisper and feel the burn on my left wrist bone while slowly exhaling with pain, closing my eyelashes. I relax my aching body and as my mental mind relives another specific moment from my past adult life.

Fifty-two years old Nadean and her twenty-two years old son OT

Thursday September 15th

08:18 a.m.

Birmingham Hospital

Business office setting of physicist Nadean

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

I drove to work like usual and sat inside my private office like always, reaching out and tapped on the flashing red colored light on the business telephone at my office desk. I lifted and listened through the receiver to a recorded message from Birmingham University that was left yesterday afternoon, asking for Mrs. Sims to call the school. And I deleted it with the touch of a button with a grin and a giggle. I loved high tech computers. This was the fourth voice message from Burn U about money.

Everything was about money, even from your kid.

OT had broken the data usage on the internet, passing the three megabits on the leased mobile telephone as he had posted a series of vile messages over the internet site about his evil step-mommie. He didn't want to use the personal laptop to track and trace it back to OT, because the mobile telephone access was safe and more expensive, within the mind of OT. Burn U owned and operated all the communication devises for the footballs, including the plasma television, movie player, the musical player, and the mobile telephone.

I had paid for every item that was needed for college for the rest of the school year, except when OT went over the data usage plan on the mobile telephone. Then I received a nasty telephone call or three from a pissed off Burn B accountant on my professional business landline and then my professional email address, and then a physical letter that I am required to pay six hundred thirty-five dollars and forty-one cents to Burn U.

"OT and the phone," I exhaled and dialed up the bank, tapping math numbers, reaching my personal tiny money bank account and heard the mechanic balance of one hundred and twenty-one dollars and fifteen cents. I gently replaced the receiver with a sour frown. "I can't pay the phone overage, today. I get paid next Monday. Then I will call back, get the address, and send a check. Good plan!" I smiled at my executive decision as the mommie and the manager of OT. I turned to the desk and looked down, calculating the figures, typing the numbers into keyboard to set up the next three radiation treatments for tomorrow.

The business telephone rang.

I reached over and grabbed the phone, pulling into the right eardrum with a stern face. "Hello, this is Dr. Garland."

Nadean paused and listened to the voice of OT on the other end of the business telephone.

I looked up with a smile to see the wall before my desk. The wall was covered in a nice array of art painting of seashells and crayon colors of a Florida rose that had been drawn by the sick and dying children here inside the radiation therapy department. I nodded with a grin to the wall of flowers. "OT, sweetheart, I'm fine, honey, just working."

Pause.

"Yes, I received three phone messages from the school. Why have I received three telephone messages from the University, Mr. Hotshot Defensive end? Did you abuse the internet usage again, OT?"

Pause.

"Good kid, sometimes."

Pause.

"Yes, dear, I'm holding the letter from Burn U. What exactly did the wall do to your friend's fist?"

Pause.

"Yes, sugar, your mom has a great sense of humor along with a tiny cent of money."

Pause.

"The second cent is spelled...c.e.n.t...as in money cents. I love you, dearly. Is this the west wall inside our rental apartment at Burn U instead of the east or south wall that had magical caved in too as stated in the police report filed by the University campus security? The invoice is three thousand and one hundred dollars even, no cents."

Pause.

I laughed out loud. "Burn U doesn't have a sense of humor like me, babe. What did the campus security do about the fist fight inside your apartment, dear?"

Pause.

"Nothing. They drove the drunkard boys back to the student dorm. That's really nice of them. I thought you weren't allowed fight parties inside the football apartments."

Pause.

"It was over a female. And did you receive special permission to fight or party, darling?"

Pause.

"Okay, young man, I'm paying this invoice, too, but this will be the last one."

Pause.

"I should use your money trust fund. Do you wanna guess where the previous three thousand plus dollars came from, OT?"

Pause.

"Your trust fund, too. You are a smart ass, boy," laughing.

Pause.

"Are there any more caved-in walls or other physical damage inside your apartment that might be coming to me on another expensive vanilla-colored Burn U stationary?"

Pause.

"Yes, OT, I carefully read all my postal mail even the letters from Burn U. I love you, OT."

Pause.

"Yes, darling, I see you on television all the time, sweetheart. I have to work on Saturdays. I take care of dying children."

Pause.

"I need to sign some papers today. Okay, I'll dash by the Dean's office before I come over to you at lunch. How's that?"

Pause.

"Okay, honey. That's a date. I'll park at your dorm parking lot. Bye, sweetheart. I love you." The telephone disconnected. I held the receiver with a smile, slowly lowering the telephone back down to the hook with a giggle, returning to work, gratefully for my son OT.

Birmingham University

5th floor accounting department

11:31 a.m.

Business office setting

I left my business office at the hospital, driving the old van to the parking lot of the familiar building, strolling up the familiar steps, the familiar hallway and the familiar business office. I sat inside a new slick leather chair, staring at the fugly ugly face of the familiar accountant.

The ugly accountant did not smile. "Ms. Sims."

I had been paying for the college education of my son for four years now. OT had graduated two years ago, earning a bachelor's degree and then two years later with a master's degree from Birmingham University. However, Burn U still would not address the properly name.

I said with a sneer and a sour frown. "Dr. Garland, my name is Nadean Garland, not Mrs. Sim, not Miss Sim, not Ms. Sim. There exists within this world another Mrs. Bitch Sims and that is not me. Have you got that, sir?"

He frowned. "Yes, Dr. Garland, the good news is that OT has not damaged anything inside his apartment. He is a very good student, well-behaved beau, and overall a good redneck from Florida. Do they call guys, rednecks down there, too?"

I shook my curls. "Naw, the bad ones are called assholes like his biological dad."

He cleared a throat and turned with a tern face to see the computer screen. "The lump sum financial invoice is three thousand and five hundred dollars for the other wall, not the ones that have been repaired."

I exhaled with a nod. "The total is three thousand five hundred dollars for the other damaged wall."

"The amount is due next week. I can escort you to the accountant's office for working out a payment schedule date, each month."

I lifted and waved my own but useful checking book with a fake smile. "Thanks." I stood from the leather chair, turning and burned a set of invisible fire balls into the nice mahogany conference room table, wishing that I could steal and sell it. The long meeting table held twenty-four leather matching chair. I could steal one...naw...two chairs, selling for two thousand dollars each and my money problem would be completed resolved.

Burn U Football Apartment building

12:12 p.m.

6th floor and apartment number thirteen

Apartment living room setting of OT

I parked the old van inside an empty spot of the tall and shaded private football garage building and scooted out the van, moving swiftly through the heated deck, through the open archway and down the air conditioned hallway to see my son with a hum and a smile.

My visits with OT were secret, planned, and illegal, since no other female, including the other mothers were allowed to visit a biological son on the popular football team.

However, the star football player was granted a few wishes.

I stopped and stood in front of the closed door, gently knocking with a smile, having lunch with my son.

The door opened.

OT stood inside the archway with a grin and a chuckle, "Hey, sexy mama. Come into my casa, cookie, and eat some of my spaghetti, babe." He back stepped from the archway, allowing her to enter.

I moved ahead, reaching out and slapping his bicep with a smile, "OT, ha, ha, funny little man."

He pulled up next to her, leaning over her hair roots with a sour frown, "Little man?"

I smiled. "My funny big man, did I bruise your ego, darling?"

He leaned over and stared at her face with worry. "You're sunburned, Mama. Does your face hurt?"

"Naw, sweetheart," I turned and scanned the apartment, moving toward the long sofa from my old living room set in Florida.

He turned and stared with a stern face at the broken wall of plaster. "Am I in trouble with you, Mama?"

I shook my curls, twirling around in the pink tinted hospital scrubs and sat down on the old sofa, smiling at my only child. "No, honey, you're good with the university and me, now. I'm glad this is your last year in the Burn U apartment complex and your old rowdy friends. When will you graduate..." I exhaled and shook my curls. I sounded like my dad when I struggled within my academic classes, attending Burn U while working two part-time jobs and making pennies count toward rent and food.

I stood upright and leaned over, hugging my son with a smile, pulling back with a nod, patting his shoulders, "I mean. When you leave Burn U and finally get a real job, you can pay for any physical damages yourself inside the new apartment, OT?"

OT reached down and grabbed her arm, turning, dragging them to the abused and used old dining room table with the four chairs from his home in Florida. "Vester and Vassar promised me a new car and the use of a rental apartment. I can ask them to pay a future fist or skull damage." He stopped with a chuckle and stood, pulling out the chair for his mom Nadean.

I moved and sat down inside the pre-offered chair with a smile. "You can ask but that doesn't necessary mean that you shall receive. My brothers have worked very hard to be where they are at in their happy life. A reckless teen is fun to watch, not fun to wait."

He leaned over the table with a smile, scooping up the food into a set of two borrowed plates from his mom, too. "I thought about what you said, Mama. I believe that I'll go into the Professional Football League for one year collecting some fast cash then go into law school. I wanna a lawyer like you." He reached over and placed a pile of thin-sized spaghetti with scattered meat and tons of red sauce, scooting the plate in front of her chest.

I lifted the utensils, looking down and cut up the tower of food before eating with a smile. "I believe that to an excellent career path."

He scooped up a plate of spaghetti, sliding it over the opposite chair of the small pub table with four seats, sitting down and cut the food with a sour frown at his mom. "Mama, is my dad blackmailing you or something?"

I chewed and swallowed the food, shaking my curls. "No, child, where did you get an idea like that?" I lifted the fork and ate the food with a puzzled brow.

He chewed and swallowed the food, saying with a puzzled brow. "You gave him your four football tickets which are the best seats within the entire Birmingham stadium, so you can't come and watch me play football."

The pub table with four high chairs was both small and close for a hand hold with a son or a nose rub with a husband. I reached over and patted on the naked arm of my son with a smile. "OT, I want your father within your life for this special short-lived time. You will be graduating very soon this year and then your college days are gone. Winfred is very proud of you."

He stared down and cut up the food with a sour frown. "Funny, Winfred didn't ever show his peacock tails of pride in Florida. He never believed in me," he looked up with a smile to see his mom. "You believed in me. Getting out in our yard and tossing your lousy ball passes I caught every single one of them. Then you allowed me to play with the entire Coral Rock male line up of fire fighters at the fire station which was down the street in Coral Gables for fun, improving my sporting skills. Vester and Vassar worked me hard during the summertime plus breaks between school sessions and then called me every Sunday, whether rain or sun or ice or wind or hurricanes. They talked to me about my personal game performance, giving my good pointers or kicking my ass, virtually by telephone. They were...acted more like a real dad, not Winfred Sims." He lifted and chewed the food.

I frowned down at his silver tinted hair roots like mine, "OT?"

He stared with a sad face at the food. "Funny, Winfred Sims didn't notice me when I was eight or ten or thirteen or seventeen, but at the age of twenty-one. Yay, man! I'm the infamous linebacker for the Burn U football team that has helped to win four back to back championship games. We are predicted to win our fifth national championship, Mama, next year in January."

I exhaled with a puff of frustration and a fake smile. "Winfred is very proud displaying your tons of football pics at his work office. It makes him look great."

OT looked up with a puzzled brow to see Nadean, holding the fork of food. "You don't?" He ate the food, chewing.

I exhaled. "Sweetheart, I work in a sterile area, first. And second, I wear scrubs with a face mask and a shower cap that covers my earlobes and hair roots like now. No one even knows my first name. I'm called Dr. Garland, because the environment is very somber and serious. We treat dying children out of respect to their heartbroken parents. Does that make sense, honey?"

He swallowed the food, nodding with a stern face, "Yes ma'am, I sorry. I sometimes forget that your primary job is the hospital. You work, so much and so often. I really appreciate your short visits here to the university to come and see me, Mama."

I smiled with a nod. "I'm not really allowed to visit the handsome linebacker in suite number thirteen. You only get one special pass for sneaking me into your apartment complex once per month, because of my pretty smile. The university's security is very tight. I had to flirt with the guard..."

"Mama!"

I laughed, "Ha, ha, little man." I lifted and ate the food, chewing with a nod.

"My dad doesn't deserve your football tickets or my recognition. He doesn't even pay for a penny of my college tuition."

I grinned. "Lucky, you're a pretty good linebacker and the university covers that, right sweetheart? What's wrong? I can tell you're upset at me."

He shook a skull. "Not you." He lifted the fork and ate the food.

"Him! Don't be angry at your dad, OT."

He swallowed the food, saying with a confused brow. "You didn't get to see my play in the game."

I nodded with a grin. "I am at every single game from a television screen inside the lobby of my office department, a great big gigantic hundred inches of wiggling plasma that almost peels off my makeup. I have never missed your game or your performance since a red-shirted freshman. I sneak in at night for the night games," giggling.

"Mama!"

"I work on Saturdays..."

"For the money, you should use my trust fund for your living expenses. Then you don't have to work, so hard."

I frowned. "OT, your father paid for your child support that I saved for you for your future. When you get out of college, you will need a couple of new business suites. You can't walk around in a Burn U tee shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, every day."

"If'an you used..."

I reached over and patted his arm with a smile. "Listen to your redneck slang. I'm not paying good money for you to learn southern."

"If you use the money..."

"Then I sit beside your dad and..."

"Her?"

I exhaled. "O yeah, her, that's the problem."

He exhaled. "Every person on planet Earth thinks that bitch is my real mama."

I shook my curls with a smile. "She's not. I'm pretty. She's ugly. I'm smart. She's dumb. I'm a southern belle. She's a non-southern bitch." He laughed. I smiled. "I love you. You're my angel from heaven. And we have discussed that exposure thing on me. Your dad lives far, far away within the state of Florida..."

"The media cronies..."

"The media will find me, locate me, and harass my ass. Lookie, we agreed. I didn't want to be stalked by un-desirables. I really do live right here in B'ham. But no one else knows that secret, but you and me."

"I suggested a big mean dog."

"Cat lover."

"Gun."

"Can't shoot."

"High rise."

"Country girl."

He stabbed the food with a sour frown. "You're impossible to please, Mama." He ate and chewed.

I smiled with a wink, "Naw, I gots you, babe." I ate and chewed the good food which was made by my son OT.

"Mama, you're too sweet on me and to him."

"Love your neighbor as thy self."

He smiled. "I know these words that come for you. But I would like said that these words come from you. This is my last year of college and football for me. If Burn U makes it all the way to the national championship game in January, then do you promise to come and see me play in my last college football game ever, Mama?"

I nodded with a smile, "Yes sir, I'm there to see your toss the quarterback into the wind being good at something besides eating a tub of spaghetti in ten minutes flat." I stood with a smile, holding the clean plate of food that I had eaten in eleven minutes flat, back stepping and turned, moving to the wash sink. OT stood and grabbed the dirty plates, rushing to the wash sink too. I slowly paced like an old woman toward the sink and stopped, standing over the clean sink with a confused brow, without dropping down the dirty set of dishes. "Enjoy your life, OT, even the little stuff too."

He stopped and reached around her waist, grabbing and placed the delicate china plates over the side of the kitchen counter top.

The apartment door opened without a sound.

A tall young pimple-faced teen male entered the apartment of OT with a sour frown and a yell, pointing at the back spine of the pink hospital scrubs which was a girl. "Hey, OT! There ain't no girls allowed during school days, boy."

OT turned and whipped them around to face the college football player with a smile, wrapping an arm around her collar bone, nodding at the other teen. "This is my mama."

The teen male moved closer with a grin and a wink at Nadean. "I believe the hot mama part. Can you be my sexy girlfriend, too?"

OT quickly released Nadean, rushing forward without stopping and shoved the other teen into the wall.

The teen recovered quickly, standing upright with a silly grin, rubbing a rear skull, without harming the wall plaster.

I exhaled with a sour frown.

OT back stepped and stood next to Nadean, turning with a smile to her cheekbone. "I love ya, Mama."

I leaned over with a smile and a whisper. "I love you, OT."

The teen male moved again closer for a second time with a grin, "Can I get...?"

OT advanced ahead with a growl and shoved the other teen male against the far wall for a second time. The teen sailed backward at great speed and hit, breaking the white plaster with a chuckle. OT back stepped and wrapped an arm around his mom with a stern face, moving her toward the open door, "Naw, now, get out, bubba, before I break your nose for the sixteenth time this year."

02:22 p.m.

Third National Bank of Florida

Downtown Birmingham

ATM machine setting

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of dull sunlight

I left the apartment of my son OT without an escort but a big hug and a wet peck on the cheekbone at the archway of the door, sneaking through the hallway and back to the old van. I started the van and drove into the crowded parking lot of the bank, swinging my tallness out the door, not bothering to lock an old rusty van.

Please steal it!

I tapped to one of the two outside ATM machines and stopped, standing and sliding the ATM card into the vetted slot, watching it think.

The screen did not but showed the three words in a neon green: See Bank teller

Then the ATM stuck out the edge of the plastic card at her and then disappeared down into the darkness of the mechanical machine. I tossed both arms with a loud grunt, "Shit." I back stepped and turned, moving into the bank lobby setting

I moved forward and stopped, standing in front of the reception desk. The girl was watching the computer screen. I smiled with a nod at her nose profile, "Hi. My ATM was eaten by the machine."

The ugly girl banged a pair of fake fingernails on the computer keyboard with a stern face. "You are either overdrawn on your account or a thief. I need to see your driver's license."

I ripped off the cheap handbag from a shoulder, scratching inside and lifted, showing off my Alabama driver's license. I received it after waiting two hours, failing my eye examination as an old maiden from the land of cotton. But I had promised, swearing to almighty goodness to go to the eye doctor for a checkup, white lie fibbing to the nice elderly DMV clerk about four years ago.

The girl reached over and grabbed the driver's license, comparing to the screen, verifying the person with a sour frown, "Oohmm, you have bad credit."

"Yes..." I turned with a whisper and scanned the crowed lobby as some of other people turned and whispered at hair roots of Nadean.

She pointed to the screen with a sour frown, "Ooohmm, your accounts are temporarily inaccessible," she turned and frowned at Nadean. "Lemme go and get you one of the bank recovery counselors. He can explain the problem and guide you as one of our customers." She back stepped from the computer, moving around the office desk, leading to a side wall which was away from the row of bank teller booths.

02:33 p.m.

1st floor suites

Business office of the bank recovery counselor

I swung around and strolled behind her back spine.

On the side door, the single door opened.

She moved down an empty hallway and stopped, standing inside an archway, pointing to the overweight and pale tinted male inside the chair with a fake smile, "This is your new bank recovery counselor, Mrs. Garland." She back stepped and returned back the same hallway, leaving the first floor business suites for her reception desk.

He stood with a smile and extended a handshake, "Good morning..."

I stood inside the archway, tilting a chin with a smile. "Mr. Loyce, is that you? I remember you from Miami, Florida."

Loyce dropped the hand with a grin and a nod, pointing down to an empty chair in front of the naked desk surface. "Ah, Dr. Garland, a very nice surprise indeed. I'm flattered that you recognized me. I'm glad to see you again. You seemed to have successfully moved from the big bad metro city Miami to the small town of Birmingham. Please have a sit in front of my desk."

I moved inside and sat down in the empty chair with a smile, "Thank you."

He turned and touched the computer keyboard, "What is the financial problem that I can assist you with, Dr. Garland?"

I smiled at his nose profile. "My ATM card has been gobbled into the machine, one. Two, my bank accounts are frozen."

"Let us take a look-see here." He hummed and typed on the computer keyboard with a smile, "Hmm, are you certain that you have not been robbed, Dr. Garland? You are missing roughly three million dollars from your bank account."

I shook my curls. "No, I received three million dollars when I sold my house in Miami. Then I moved up here, my birth place. I just missed the moon and the mountains. Home sick, you know. Anyways, I received the monies then I had to pay off all my debts. I'm debt free now."

He frowned. "Apparently not, you own money to the IRS money, your car note money, and a lawyer in Miami."

I gawked in shock. "You...you can see all that inside my personal bank account at the Third National Bank of Florida."

"Yes," he turned and smiled at Nadean and then the computer screen. "The bank is the second party that the IRS contacts when it is owned monies. I see clearly. Your joint account is overdrawn."

"O."

"It seems that your husband has jerked the last bite of money from the personal bank account, without your permission thus creating a penalty and a monetary fee. I would remove Orion Tanner Sims from your account, immediately, Dr. Garland." He typed on the keyboard and nodded at the computer screen.

I shook my curls with a smile to see his nose profile. "He is my son, not a husband. Orion Tanner is my son, but everyone calls him OT."

He gasped and turned to see Nadean. "OT Sims is really Orion Tanner Sims. OT Sims, the infamous defensive linebacker for the Burn U football team that has helped won three championship games in a row."

I smiled with a nod. "It will be a fourth championship in a row. I promise, Mr. Loyce. So you should always bet on Burn U."

He smiled with a nod. "Yes, I do see, very clearly," he turned and stared down at the computer screen with a smile. "Your bank account balance is a negative number, two dollars and sixty-seven cents."

I lifted and wiggled the cash inside a cupped hand with a smile. "I guess OT withdrew money before I could deposit this. I have in cash one thousand dollars to cover the lack of sufficient funding inside my checking account and a second pile of cash of five hundred dollars to place inside my saving account."

He turned and gasped, reaching out and grabbed the money, spreading the stack over the office desk and recounted the money with a stern face. "I will deposit this, immediately. You should not carry around a large sum of cash inside the pockets of your hospital scrubs, Dr. Garland. You must be careful walking around the tenth nastiest city within the USA."

I giggled with a grin at his balding skull. "Naw! I ain't afraid of nothing."
Present day and place

03:03 p.m.

City of Birmingham within the State of Alabama

Hidden underground cavern with red clay soil and gray limestone walls

Humid temperatures with damp air conditions

"OT..." I whisper and feel the burn on my right ankle bone while slowly exhaling with pain, closing my eyelashes and then drift into another moment from my past adult life.

03:04 p.m.

City of Warrior

(20 miles, north, from metro city Birmingham)

Home of landlord Mrs. Abercrombie

Dining room setting of Teague and FDA agents

Cold temperatures of wintertime with bright sunshine

Inside dining room, Inspector code named Elf exhales with a huff of worry, typing on the computer keyboard with a sour frown of worry for the life of Nadean Garland. "Stop making noise, Duckie. I can't concentrate over here."

At the same dining room table, in another dining room chair, tall and red-haired Vassar types on his computer keyboard with a stern face, searching electronically for a ping on the life of his older sister Nadean Garland. "The retransmitted signal was measured underneath the 5,800 ms ping which is barely heard over a single radio station frequency without a talk-show host."

At the same dining room table, Vester sits inside a hard dining room chair, posing slightly behind the rear skull on his twin brother Vassar while searching the electronic screen for a ping location on the life of his older sister Nadean Garland. "Ping time refers how long it takes for the specific information to reach the specific destination. The time unit is averaged and measured in ms or milliseconds. One thousand milliseconds or ms are equal to one second. Ping times are all ground-based over the internet and range within one hundred ms category. A satellite usage is six hundred ms ping time."

At the same dining room table, Teague stands slightly behind Vester and wiggles side to side, exhaling with a worried brow and watches the electronic screen. Vassar types on the computer laptop. Teague frowns at the computer screen. "I don't need a science lesson. I need the location of Duchess, before the championship football game starts, right now."

FDA Inspector code named Duckie stops and jabs a finger at the television with a nod and a smile. "OT has his game face on, like normal, just watching him chase the Bam U quarterback around the field like a mouse. Sic him, OT! Get him, OT!" He hums with a smile and continues to stand, watching the football game.

FDA Inspector code named Bull pulls up a chair and sits at the nose profile on his fellow worker Elf, pointing down with a stern face at the computer screen. "Can you break the re-transmitted signal like Vassar says, Elf?"

Elf exhales with a sour frown and continues to type on the keyboard. "This encryption is a bitch. Some of the finest hacking I've seen in years."

The football television announcer yells out loud from each plasma television device. "There's a man open getting the check down. The Bam U quarterback is brilliant with the check downs. A check down is when the running backs are blocked and then the quarterback passes down the field to an open man who runs straight down the middle of the field for a touchdown. The football ball is located on the twenty yard-line. It is Bam U's first down position."

Vassar continues to type on the keyboard with a stern face. "An airborne signal requires a flight of microwave to attack one of the many orbiting outer space satellites."

Teague frowns down at the computer screen. "GPS device technology is solely based on outer spacey satellites, so what?"

Elf types on the computer keyboard with a sour frown. "Naw, I must say that I'm rather impressed and wished that I had conceived this algorithm, since I can't break it."

Bull turns and stares at the rear skull on Duckie, who is watching the football and OT's behavior. "What the fuck are you humming over there, Duckie?"

Duck stops humming and thumbs back over a collar bone with a smile to Teague, watching the football game and the performance of OT. "Blame, Tomcat. He came back into the office yesterday whistling a rebel song."

Bull continue to frown at the rear skull on Duckie. "What rebel song?"

Duckie shrugs his shoulder and continue to watch the football game. "Don't know. I mean I do know. It's an old, old southern hymn." Bull stands upright from the chair and moves ahead, standing beside Duckie, watching the football game too.

Vester continue to watch his brother work in silence. Vassar continues to type on the laptop. "Loyce pinged into a satellite array within the geostationary orbit that travels at twenty-two thousand miles-per-hour within outer space and then the ping is relayed back by a retransmitted arriving signal through a wireless transponder on planet Earth. A transponder is an automatic electronic monitoring control device that receives, cross-examines, amplifies, and retransmits."

Teague frowns at the nose profile of Vester and then the rear skull on Vassar. "I don't care about outer spacey. I care about finding Duchess before the game starts."

FDA Inspector code named Bull back steps from the television plasma screen and spins around, moving ahead, sitting back down into the hard chair beside Elf. Elf smiles down at the computer screen. "I have another vector in pursue. If I trace the fling backward and then track the ping forward, I can uncover the hidden location of Duchess," he types on the computer keyboard with a set of strange symbols and words in the computer language.

Bull reaches over and slaps the bicep of Elf with a smile. "Hurry up, bro."

Elf wiggles both shoulders with frustration and a sour frown. "Don't rush, the man."

Bull frowns. "I am sorry. I am worried about Nadean."

Elf nods. "Stay cool. Stay calm. Level heads will get the work done, smoothly."

Vassar continue to type on the keyboard computer with a stern face. "When an American reporter conducts an interview with an international reporter over the Atlantic Ocean, there is a noticeable time lag in the vocal conversation. You hear a pause, after the American reporter asks a question and before you see the international reporter acknowledge the question and then reply."

Teague frowns down at the rear skull on Vassar. "How the hell do you know that?"

Vester smiles down at the rear skull on Vassar. "There was noticeable time lag in...hello."

Teague tosses both arms into the air with a worried brow and a worried heart, "Fine, now, ping me into Duchess. Where is she?"

Vassar stops typing with a sour frown on the computer keyboard. "We lost her. We lost Nadean, Vester. Loyce is the only person on planet Earth that knows her secret location."

Elf turns and frowns at the face on Bull. "What the fuck is that song that you're humming into my earlobe, Bull?"

Bull smiles with a musical baritone tone. "Are you from Dixie? I say from Dixie. Where the fields of cotton beckon to me? I'm glad to see you. Tell me I'll be you. And the friend, I'm longing to see..."

Duckie watches the football game and nods with a smile, singing in tenor tone. "Are you from Alabama, Tennessee or Caroline? Any place below the Mason Dixie Line. Are you from Dixie? I say from Dixie. 'Cuz I'm from Dixie too," chuckling.

Teague turns and frowns at the nose profile of Bull. "Loyce was humming that song."

Bobcat turns and frowns at the nose profile of Teague, "Naw."

Elf looks down and types on the keyboard computer with a stern face. "Duff Loyce is Florida-born and raised-up like a seashell Miami, a true South Florida native."

Bull smiles with a nod at the television screen while watching the football game, "Picked up redneck habits."

Elf frowns and types at the computer screen. "Naw! Assholes do not pick up redneck habits ever, never, period."

Teague exhales with a huff of frustration, turning and stared down at the computer in front of Vassar. "Don't give a shit about rednecks or assholes. Please, find Duchess before I have a heart attack."

Vassar looks up with a confused brow to see Elf on the opposite side of the dining room table. "Loyce was singing a Dixie hymnal, but he was born in US State of Florida. That's weird."

Bull whips out his personal mobile telephone, typing and reading the information with a stern face. "That's a southern song that was written in the year 1915 by lyricist Jack Yellen and composer George Cobb."

Vester looks up with a confused brow to see Elf too. "That's weird-ass. What's the Dixie tune Loyce was singing?"

Teague looks down with a confused brow to see the floor. "Loyce wasn't singing it. He was humming it."

Vester gasps in alarm and spin around inside the chair to see Teague. "When, Teague? Where was Loyce humming a Dixie tune?"

Teague looks up with a puzzled brow to see Vassar, shaking his curls. "When I was at the bank, investigating the bank account for Duchess..."

"Shit." Vester gasps. "It is a message, a subliminal message. Loyce or the sub-conscious of his mind knows the location of Nadean."

Bobcat frowns at Vester. "His sub-conscious mind has and holds Duchess."

Elf looks up and smiles at Vassar. "We just found out where Duchess is being kept." He returns back and types on the computer, looking up a geographical map of the State of Alabama.

Bull points down to his mobile telephone with a smile. "Ya'll, there is a Dixie Avenue or a Dixie Highway. Long time ago, in the 1830s, Dixie Highway was called the Nashville Turnpike, making up US Highway 31, coming from Nashville, Tennessee down to Birmingham, Alabama. Duchess is in Nashville, not Birmingham. The metro city of Nashville is only four hours north of Birmingham." He looks up with a stern face and a nod to see Teague. "Loyce grabbed her last night and whisked her away up there. We need to leave and contact the Nashville FBI folks."

Elf stops typing and reads out loud the locations on the electronic map from the computer screen with a stern face. "And adding to that particular possible geographical placement, present day US Highway 31 also parallels Interstate 65 along certain specific tracts of land. I believe that Loyce has sub-consciously pinpointed and placed Duchess inside a hiddy-hole between the cities of Nashville and Birmingham. Specifically, the tracts of land, paralleling Highway 31 and Interstate 65 should be investigated. I got a computer map here on my computer."

Every FDA inspector accesses an electronic map of Alabama on their personal mobile telephone as Tank, Duke, and Elf, and Vassar access a map of Alabama on the computer laptop screen. Each pair of eyeballs read the new information as each pair of eardrums listens to the new vocal conversation.

Bull sits next to Elf while typing and accessing an electronic map of Alabama on his mobile telephone with a stern face. "Interstate 65 connects the north-south cities, starting from the southern seaport of Mobile, Alabama up to the northern farmlands of Gary, Indiana. The interstate parallels US Highway 31 for much of its roadway route with the exception of the stretch of northwest portion of Alabama."

Bobcat reaches out, drags away one of the empty dining room chairs, and then stops, sitting beside Teague. Teague drags one of the empty green metal folding chair and sits down behind Vassar and Vester, viewing the computer screen. Bobcat reads out loud from his mobile telephone. "That's not good, ya'll. The entire roadway of Interstate 65 goes for 367 miles from the top of the Appalachian Mountains, coming down to the tip of the Gulf coast waters."

Teague whips out and reads out loud from his mobile telephone the new information to all eardrums. "The northwest section of Alabama for Interstate 65 part is mostly made up of the seven miles of concrete and steel bridge that is above the Tennessee River, coming from the dry land of Limestone County running through the river part of Morgan Country. Duchess is not there underneath a seven-mile bridge or inside a paddle boat of fresh river water, since Loyce is pale skinned and overweight. The man has never sees a sunrise or a sunset or a solar flare of sunlight."

Bull reads out loud from his mobile telephone, "The major cities along the interstate exchange in the state of Alabama include Athens, Decatur, Cullman, Birmingham, Clanton, Montgomery..."

Teague looks up with a stern face to see each inspector, shaking his curls, "Stop! Loyce is not inside the city of Montgomery. That's too far south from the national championship game by two hours. And he is not inside the city or Nashville being too far north of Birmingham also. So, we concentrate our study between the cities of Athens and Birmingham."

Bull points down to the mobile telephone with a stern face. "The first intersection of Highway 31 and Interstate 65 is the first Alabama rest spot for vehicle travelers near the city of Athens in Limestone County."

Duckie smiles with a nod at the television screen, watching the game. "I've been there. There's a gigantic rocket ship that went up into outer space and then splashed back down into the ocean waters. NASA captured it and brought it to live in Athens. It stands upright like it's going to blast off into the sky again."

Teague types on his mobile telephone with a stern face, shaking his curls. "Naw, Duchess is not there, either."

Bull reads out loud from his phone with a stern face. "The second interstate exchange is at the location of Elkton Road. The road acts as a frontage road into the freeway through Holland Gin and Sandlin Road at the interstate exit of 361."

Teague types on his phone with stern face, shaking his curls. "Naw, that's too much rural country for a city slicker like Loyce. Forget about the interstate portion that passes through Limestone County and the city of Athens. I was born out there, not much but cotton and cows."

Bobcat nods with a smile, typing on his mobile telephone. "And I plan to see, soonest, since I'm retiring after this bullshit run."

Elf frowns down at the computer screen, following the route of the interstate, "How about the city of Decatur that is off the interstate grid, also?"

Bull reads out loud from his phone. "Pike Road leads west one mile from interstate 65 to highway 31 in the city of Falkville."

Teague types on the phone with a stern face. "Naw, there's more rednecks with guns. Loyce would be dead before he slammed the car door for gasoline and Duchess would be safe as a country princess."

Bull reads out loud from his phone with a stern face. "We move down into Blount County. There is Reid Gap on the interstate exit 284. Highway 31 merges onto the freeway for a three mile stretch that overlaps into the cities of Hamilton and Garden City."

Vassar reads out loud from the computer screen with a stern face, "Naw, the original roadway path of Highway 31 alignment was discontinued because of the new freeway system through the Reid Gap. Loyce couldn't find his butthole up there in the Bryant Mountains."

Bobcat reaches over and slaps the collar bone on Teague with a smile, "And either can Teague."

Teague sneers down at the phone. "Fuck off, Eckward."

Bull reads out loud from his phone with a stern face. "Ya'll, at exit 271 in the city of Gardendale, Highway 31 stems west from Interstate 65."

Elf reads out loud from the computer screen with a stern face. "Naw, it is three miles west of the interstate exit ramp. You are thinking about the ramp exchange right off of Highway 31 at exit 266. Interstate 65 kisses the pavement at highway 31 going north into the city of Birmingham or south into Fultondale."

Duckie nods with a smile, reading out loud his mobile telephone, "Yeah, that's the hidden location of Duchess. Bring up a viewing map of exit 266 on the laptop, Elf."

Elf shake his skull and studies the computer screen. "Don't bother. I'm from Fultondale. There's nothing but residential houses, small Mom and Pop retail businesses, and lots of cotton and cows. And Loyce would not be very welcomed there. He doesn't speak with a sweet twangy southern accent. The sheriff would be tailing his ass out of Fultondale back into B'ham, to swiftly with a boot toe."

Bobcat exhales with a huff of worry, staring down into the phone. "Okay. After the city of Fultondale, there is the messy bridge construction of Interstate 22 that is coming from Memphis, Tennessee. Then you hit 'malfunction junction' that connected the big three ugly three interstates of 20, 59, and 65. And we are back into the heartland of downtown Birmingham." He looks up with a worried brow to each different colored set of hair roots on each inspector that views their individual mobile telephone.

Teague looks down to see the floor, singing softly and stopped, looking up with a puzzled brow to see the hair roots of each inspector. "There are more words to that Dixie song. What are the rest of the song lyrics?"

Bobcat looks down and types on his mobile telephone, reading out loud for all the eardrums. "My home was way down in old Alabama, on the plantation near Birmingham, and there's one thing certain I'm sure flirting, with those southbound trains...." He looks up with a puzzled brow to see the nose profile on Teague. "Where's the train station?"

Elf types on the computer with a smile. "The city street address is 1919 Morris Avenue. It is the local of both the train and bus station for people leaving Birmingham with freight and passenger trains."

Teague shakes his curls with a stern face, "Naw, not the current train station."

Vassar types on the computer with a smile and a nod. "The first train station was established in the month of December 13 within the year of 1819 along with a few plantation cotton farms. The first owner was..."

".... McLendon was the first plantation owner on the outskirts of Birmingham in the old South." Vester smiles and read out loud from his mobile telephone.

Bobcat gasps at Teague. "There is a McLendon Park surrounding Eighth Avenue and Gray Avenue." He stood with Teague.

"Old Gray Man," Vassar turns and smile at Teague while reaching out, slapping the collar bone on his brother Vester. "Birmingham Vulcan Stadium is located on Gray Avenue. The ball field had been constructed in the year 1925, seating 22,000 spectators. Today, at the annual National USA Championship University Football finale game, the stadium will house 100,000 individuals. The stadium consists of six press television media boxes, forty-four private sky boxes, massive rows of curved bleacher seating that covered the radius of the interior of the stadium, and seven eating areas for food service. The stadium property has existed for so long that it has been affectionately termed as the "Old Gray Man" from an ancient silver-tinted statue of the Greek god named Vulcan that reigns over the healthy green grass."

"Everyone, grab a gun and a ride and get to Old Gray Man, pronto." Teague stands upright from the metal folding chair as the chair wiggles side to side and then falls down over the floor with a loud crash. He back steps from the twin brothers and spins around, leading his FDA inspector team out from the dining room and through the hallway towards the entrance door.

Inside the dining room table, Vassar swiftly stands upright from the chair and grabs his computer laptop for any new information, looking up with a nod in silence to see Duke and Tank. They do not need vocal instructions, since Duke and Tank will follow closely behind Teague inside the two separate sports cars. The sports car carries more computer and scientific equipment that might be needed to save Nadean and then kill Loyce. Vassar follows the back spine on his brother Vester and his new friend Teague.

03:33 p.m.

Outdoor front yard of Mrs. Abercrombie

Cold temperatures with bright sunshine

Teague slams open the entrance door and hits the interior wall without a care, exiting from the borrowed residential home, racing over the manicured grass. He dashes ahead toward his sports car. Teague has lived here within the city limits of Birmingham longer than the twin brothers and know each shortcut through busy city street. And he is very anxious to see Nadean again.

Vassar and Vester exit the house and pull up beside Teague.

Teague looks down at the nicely paved driveway with a stern face while dashing towards his car. "The entire city of Birmingham is built on top of caverns. Thousands of tunnels and sink holes surround the radius of the city. The Birmingham Vulcan Stadium was built in the year 1925 and then collapsed after a massive summertime thunderstorm. Then the city council re-built the thing in the year 1926 by pouring columns of concrete, making a set of cylinders like building a set of birthday candles on top of the chocolate frosting icing. Loyce is down there with Duchess. He is hiding her there between the columns of concrete while watching the National Championship Game on a cell or a laptop."

Vassar moves with Teague and holds the laptop computer in one hand. "I concur. Loyce is closely watching to see if OT will toss the game in favor of Bam U."

Vester stops and stands beside the passenger door. The door opens. He allows Vassar to climb into the rear seat and growls with worry. "And I have conceived a better idea. We are going to find and watch Loyce suffocate to death between my two bare hands."

"Yeah," Teague stops and stand in front of the driver's door, raising an arm, slapping the other hand over the handle. The door opens.

Vester slides down into the front passenger seat, without belting into the leather and closes the door. "Call up the specs on the Old Gray Man, Vassar. Let's find that bastard and then have some deadly fun," chuckling.

Teague slides inside and ignites a cold engine for .005 seconds, jerking the stick into first gear, heading toward the Birmingham Vulcan Stadium. He flies across the driveway and onto the highway, illegal speeding without a set of flashing lights and a worried brow. "Don't ya boys leave me out of this."

Vester reaches up and holds onto the bar hand on the ceiling with a smile and chuckle, staring out the wind shield. Teague is driving too fast to watch the trees fly by without upsetting the stomach or the eyeballs. "We won't dream of it, Tomcat. Talk to me, Vassar."

Vassar opens the lid and starts typing on the keyboard for a few seconds, staring down at the computer screen. He reads out loud for all eardrums. "Old Gray Man began in the year 1926 at the cost of 439,000 dollars. It was completed in the year 1927 and named Legion Field in honor of the warrior Americans. The city council approved new modifications which were granted in the year 2006. The capacity of the stadium increased from 66,000 to 69,901 spectators. The lower tier can seat up to 20,000, the middle tier up to 24,000, and the upper tier up to 22,000. There are 10,400 seats in the lower tier corners which can be converted to standing room to allow an additional 3,120 spectators. The total capacity includes 2,000 business seats, 400 seats for the press, 106 luxury boxes with seating for up to 174, and 165 berths for wheelchairs and the like.

"The Old Gray Man offers three daycare centers and a mega fan merchandise shop. There are numerous restaurants and fast-food establishments around the stadium's exterior. There are four team locker rooms. One each home teams and their respective opponents, four coach rooms, and two locker rooms for referees. And there are 851 toilets..."

In the passenger seat, Vester growls with a sour frown at the windshield, holding onto the hand rail. "Useful datum, Vassar!"

Teague continues to drive his sports car illegally through the side streets with a chuckle and a grin. "I've been there many times for sporting events, since becoming a native of Birmingham, not permanently, thou. I plan to retire back to Brier, tomorrow. But to me, it looks like a great big fucking-ass black rubber tire tread, resting on its side."

Vester stares out the wind shield with a smile and a chuckle, "Precisely, it is a great big fucking-ass black rubber tire tread, Teague."

Vassar types on the keyboard with a smile and a chuckle. "The unique property of rubber exhibits the Mullins Effect plus the Payne Effect, creating a unique physical and chemical product called hyper-elastic. Therefore, natural rubber offers good elasticity. The two solvents of rubber are turpentine and petroleum. The French gentleman Francois Frenau discovered the petroleum component of rubber in the year 1764. However, rubber does not dissolve easily."

Teague continue to steer the car with a stern face. "Everyone knows that. You see stacks of damn rubber tires that could touch up to the heaven for miles."

Vester stares out the windshield and hold onto the hand bar from the wild driving from Teague. "On a microscopic scale, rubber is a disorganized cluster of wrinkled chains. Cooling a chain permits conformational of the cluster bed, creating longer wrinkled chains. However, a cold-ass rubber produces a low elasticity property and strains the chain, producing a wrong-o change in the linear bond length. This was the cause of the space shuttle disaster, where the series of flattened o-rings which were made from elastic rubber and then failed to relax, filling the gap.

"The wrinkled chains of stretched rubber are susceptible to crystallization. The twisted chains turn and spin while growing crystallites. Crystallization occurs when an inflated kiddie birthday party balloon withers, when touched by a hand. The temperature of the human hand is warm enough to melt the crystals.

"So, the vulcanization of rubber creates a bond between the wrinkled chains, limiting the freedom of the crystals, tightening the strain. The elasticity is constant, making the rubber harder and less extensible.

"Rubber particles are formed in the cytoplasm of specialized cells called laticifers within the rubber plant. You call latex. Latex is the polymer cis-1, 4-polyisoprene with a molecular weight of one hundred million daltons, including five percent dry mass of proteins, fatty acids, resins, and salt."

Teague continues to drive at an illegal speed, passing cars over the interstate with a smile. "Salt, fatty acids, and proteins live in rubber like me, a breathing human being."

Vester smiles with a nod, "A very perceptive observation, Tomcat."

Vassar grins. "Rubber trees exist and live, too, producing latex."

Vester nods. "Natural rubber is an elastomer and a thermoplastic, meaning the rubber is heated and then is cooled but is degraded into a usable geometric shape for every day people's lifestyle for business usage. But it cannot ever be destroyed."

Vassar smiles. "Rubber has only one enzyme. Latex has small molecular weight proteins. The proteins serve as cofactors. About thirty million tons of rubber is produced each calendar year on planet Earth. Around forty--wo percent is natural rubber. The fifty-five percent is synthetic rubber which is derived from petrochemicals. Around seventy percent of the natural rubber mineral is used in a set of vehicle rolling tires. Some everyday latex products include rubber gloves, condoms, balloons, and such-like."

"Got it!" Teague drives around the slower cars over the roadway with a smile and a nod.

Vester smiles. "The first use of rubber was found by the ancient civilization called the Olmecs, passing their entertaining knowledge of natural latex plant from the rubber tree in the year 1600 BC to the ancient Mayans. Then the two ancient kingdoms hot boiled the harvested rubber, making a rounded ball for the first ever Meso-american football game."

Teague turns and frowns at nose profile on Vester and then views the road with a laugh. "You're fuckingly shitting me, man."

Vassar chuckles in the rear seat. "Vester doesn't fuck or shit like a regular man, Teague. And his academic lecture is both historically accurate and pictorially complete."

Teague continue to drive with a smile. "Bullshit! I will after we rescue Duchess."

Vester stares out through the windshield with a stern face, still holding onto the hand rail on the rooftop of the sports car. "Natural rubber is vulcanized, a process of heating and adding sulfur, improves the resistance and elasticity, preventing it from perishing. Charles Goodyear in the year 1839 developed a rudimentary version of vulcanization. Before World War Two, carbon black was added to rubber, improving its strength, especially in vehicle tires. The Birmingham Vulcan Sports Stadium is completely composed of used and abused black rubber vehicle tires. However, natural rubber is also susceptible to microbial degradation during the vulcanization process by one single solo gram bacterium belonging to the genus Gordona. An actinomycete isolette called Gordonia polyisoprenivorns. It degrades, not destroys both the natural rubber cis-1, 4-polyisoprene, thus allowing the exterior façade of the new Stadium live and breath as a new entity."

Teague quickly turns and frowns at the nose profile on Vester and then returns back to see the road with a puzzled brow. "How do you know that, Vester?"

Vester turns and smiles at the nose profile on Teague, "Because, we discovered it, Teague."

Teague continues to drive with a gasp. "That's means.

Vester returns and smiles at windshield. "Yeah, that's means."

Vassar stops typing and stares down at the computer screen, reading out loud for all eardrums inside the rear seat. "Vester, the stadium construction includes an underground two-tiered parking deck allotment for two thousand vehicle spots."

Teague continue to drive with a sour frown and a worried heart, "Damn, USA's biggest underground car parking garage, just fucking great."

Vassar reads out loud from the computer screen with a stern face. "There is an underground subway tunnel, coming from the Vulcan parking lot, transporting east to west for all spectators with a personal vehicle, stopping at an elevated platform with six elevator carriages. The main entrance design allows for foot traffic from both the ground surface and four sets of below ground elevators. The roof has in-built roller blinds which may be drawn back and forth from sunny days and rainy nights. There are ten thousand parking places into the Vulcan parking garage, five hundred spots for the buses, and two hundred more spots for reserved disabilities. Nadean is not hidden underneath the stadium's platform of 200,000 tons of concrete and 36,000 tons of steel."

Vester nods to the windshield, "Agreed."

Vassar stares down at the computer screen with a stern face. "In point four miles, you will see a red bricked six story tall new building on your right which is across the street from the north bleacher seating of the Stadium. Travel straight ahead into a grassy soccer field like a redneck, who doesn't have an entrance ticket into the Championship Football Game, Teague. The Vulcan Tower is 457 feet tall, Vester. The executive administration rents out the panoramic penthouse view for numerous sporting game and party celebrations."

Vester nods to the windshield with a stern face. "Good work, Vassar."

03:48 p.m.

Old Gray Man stadium location

Dead brown and tan winter grass parking lot setting

Cold temperatures with bright sunshine

Teague slows the speed and then stops parking the car over the dead brown and tan colored winter grass, killing the engine and opens the door. He slides out and stands over the dead grass, scanning the landscape of the stadium and the buildings and closed the door with a stern face.

The passenger door opens.

The twin brothers exit the car and move ahead stopping and huddles around Teague.

Vassar stands on top of the dead grass and looks down with a stern face to see the laptop. "Nadean's heated signal would be impossible to ID within a crowd of 100,000 for both us and Loyce. And Nadean could have been found by a drunken Bam U fool. Therefore, Loyce has hidden her underground. Plus, a single heartbeat will never be reflected from a ping time of the satellite covered within tons of red clay dirt," he points down at the electronic map. "The Old Gray Man does not have any tunnels, since the parking lot covers the soil." He looks up to see the building. "The only logical conclusion, there is an ancient underground passage underneath the newly built structure, the Vulcan Tower. There is a natural land opening that is located on the southwestern corner of that building, probably holding a set of big heavy work equipment and such-like that would used to construct the foundation of the building."

Vester turns and stares at the same building. "Agreed. It is an elegant entrance nicely out of the way of an eye viewing crowd of wild fans and calm police for those attending a grand sporting event."

Vassar looks down with a stern face to see the computer screen. "Loyce is a true genius, plotting his plan to the letter."

A set of four other vehicles illegally speed ahead down the same avenue and then slow, turning onto the same field, sliding over the dry dead grass. Each one splits and then stops in-between Teague's sports car.

Each vehicle door opens.

Each FDA inspector moves away from a vehicle and stands in silence, forming a loose huddle around Vassar, Vester, and Teague.

Tank and Duke exit from the individual sports car and dash ahead, standing inside the same huddle too. Each one totes and wears a black colored backpack. Tank turns and hands out a piece of metal equipment to each member in silence.

Vassar nod to each team member with a smile. "These are the newest faddie by me and Vester, a wrist communicator that works like a mini-cell phone for the arm for our new set of FDA friends."

Teague scans each face with a stern face and a new order, thumbing back over a collar bone to the building. "There is a tunnel underneath that new building on the southwestern corner. We believe that Duchess and Loyce are there. Go back to the FDA issued vehicle and capture every piece of survival and rescue gear that you can carry between your two hands and over both your two collar bones, around your throat and over your back spine and then hustle your ass to come and help me tote out the dead body of fat ass Loyce from the cave. I will run ahead to find and to kill Loyce. You come inside the tunnel without the rebel screaming for my victory. We will all party hardy when this is over with. And I want all of you to meet my girl Duchess," smiling

Bobcat nods with a smile, "Got it! And I get to shoot one bullet into Loyce, before he dies. Don't leave me out, Teague."

Teague winks with a grin at Bobcat. "I won't, Eckward." Teague, Vester, Vassar, Tank, and Duke spin around and dash ahead toward the southeastern corner of the building.

03:59 p.m.

Southwestern tunnel entrance

Cold temperatures with bright sunshine

A lonely tall male paces side to side at the mouth of a dark entrance cavern within a rectangular-shaped darker hole. If you do not notice him, then you would not be interested to take a darker journey down inside a dark cold tunnel that is sucked down underneath a new building.

Teague dashes ahead with a gaps and then stops before the entrance into an underground cavern, slipping down, hiding at the corner of the new bricked building with a sneer. He sits in a crouch. Vester, Vassar, Tank, and Duke appear and then surround the folded body on Teague, leaning around the edge of the same building, viewing the lonely sentry also.

Teague in a squat pose reaches down and displays his hand gun with a sneer into the face on Vester. "I'll take him out. Then you run inside for..."

"Naw!" Vester reaches over and grabs the arm on Teague with a stern face, shaking his buzz cut. "You stay here, Teague. My guess is that there are more sentries than a single male at the entrance point."

Vassar squat in pose and looks down, typing on his laptop computer at his kneecaps with a stern face, reading out loud the information for all eardrums. "The Vulcan Building is 457 feet high with thirty-three floors, measuring 600,000 square feet of office space. The base floor is 140,000 square feet. I am converting the 140,000 square feet into acres. One land acre is 43,560 square feet. The building square footage is equal to the math ratio of 3.21396 of an acre. One acre of land equals seventy-six percent of a football field plus both end zones. A football field is 360 feet long and 160 feet wide. Therefore, one acreage that is inside a man-made building structure is seventy-six time 360 feet equal to 273.6 feet. Then, I will multiple 273.6 feet by the math ratio of 1.60698, equaling 879.33 or roughly about 880 feet of base flooring."

Vester nods at the sentry at the mouth of the hidden cavern. "Loyce is not located on the far side of the building, so half of that math figure is 440 feet. And Loyce is not located at the mid-point either, since a tunnel is always a set of un-stable dirt cave-ins. So I take half of that math figure, marking at 220 feet. And if I guess here, the four dumb ass sentries would be precisely fifty-five feet apart, guarding the dirty smelly red clay before we locate Nadean."

Teague exhales with a huff of frustration, turning with a growl to see Vester and Vassar. "Fine! Go and test your math theory, boys. But, if you are gone from here more than five point six seconds, since that is the travel time for killing a man up close and personal, then I am coming with a gun in both hands."

Vester nods with a grin in silence and stands upright from the dead grass, leading his brother Vassar, his married husband Tank, and his brother-in-law Duke towards the entrance cave.

04:03 p.m.

Underground cavern

Red clay soil and walls

Humid temperatures with damp air currents

Vester continues with a swift pace without showing a weapon or a beverage or a back pack of gear, moving toward the entrance tunnel and then stops, standing in front of the tall male with a smile and a chuckle. "Loyce sent me. You're replacement. Have you been following any of the football game, buddy? Burn U is up by seven points. I think my team is going to win."

The tall blonde male turns and stares with a sneer, leaning into the face on Vester. "Password?"

Vester smiles. "Fart face, ain't that right?"

He frowns with confusion. "Fart? Face?"

"Okay, penis ball." Vester chuckles.

"Penis? Ball?"

Vester reaches up and cups his palm with a wink, squeezing the fingers together with a smile. "You look like you might have a nice penis ball that could fit into the palm of my hand which would be rounded, hard, and juicy. Is that right, dude?"

He looks down with a puzzled brow to see the flexing hand of Vester, "My penis ball?"

Vester smiles down at the blonde colored hair roots. "It is these round things between our dicks which a guy like me likes to lick with the tip of my pink tongue."

He frowns at the flexing hand with confusion, "Guys? Lick?"

Vester folds his hand into a fist and punches forward into the open mouth on the first sentry.

The sentry draws a nose and a mouth of blood first, seeing a cloud of yellow stars second. The sentry stumbles backward into the dirt wall hitting a rear skull first and an ass last down onto the dirt cave.

The mate of Vester, Tank stands upright from the side of the cavern and advances ahead with a sneer, shoving his hand onto the back spine on his husband Vester in silence to move forward, finding Nadean.

Tank drops down a heavy backpack of weapons and electronics from his collar bone, turning with a sneer to finish off bleeding the idiot, who has dared to piss off his mate.

Vassar and his mate Duke dash ahead from the side corner on the new building, entering the cavern, catching up with Vester. They jog down a long dark tunnel floor with red soil that is mixed with touches of limestone gray rock and densely packed red clay.

Each one hauls three heavy backpacks with equipment and electronics on each back spine to rescue Nadean plus eliminate Loyce.

04:07 p.m.

55 feet ahead within the cavern

110 feet from the entrance of the cavern

Second sentry post setting

He moves ahead with a smile and a wink without a back pack or a beverage of water.

The second sentry is a tall young blond-haired male slowly pacing side to side and the stops while staring at the new stranger, who possesses a red buzz cut like a military man.

He stops with a wink. "Hi there, I'm gay. And you're so cute." Vester leans over and sweet breaths into the face on the unknown male, lifting up, firing a hand gun with a silencer into the healthy guts on the second sentry. He burns a hole out through the body and into the dirt with a chuckle, "Works every damn time."

04:10 p.m.

55 feet ahead within the cavern

165 feet from the entrance of the cavern

Third sentry post setting

The third sentry with a head of blonde hair slices his eyeballs side to side and faces entrance of the cave, listening and watching for the new trouble.

Vester approaches with a smile and a nod, "Dude!" The sentry lifts and points the cold rifle barrel into the face on Vester. Garland lifts both hands with a smile, "Peace, man! Do you want some cold fresh spring water from Tampa, Florida?" He wiggles the cold wet sweaty bottle of water in one hand.

The sentry stares a wet, sweaty water bottle, reaching out, grabbing the bottle with a left hand, cuddling the rifle between an armpit and a right hand. He jerks the bottle of water into his lips and tosses a skull backward without a drop of water. He looks down and checks the stout of the bottle. It is sealed shut with the plastic ring intact. He hands the bottle toward Vester in silence.

Vester chuckles with a smile. "Dude, open your bottle or hold your gun!" He reaches out for the rifle and draws back the hand quickly, sliding the same hand toward the closed water bottle and then draws it back with a laugh. He extends his left hand for the rifle and then shifts both of his hands horizontally side to side.

The sentry is intrigued with Vester shuffling hand motions.

Vester stops both hands in mid-air, paralleling both arms down to the ground, reaching out with a left hand toward the gun but quickly folds the fist, slamming it into the jaw line on the three sentry with a hard punch.

The fourth sentry drops down and lands over the dirt soil, unconscious.

Vassar dashes ahead and reaches over, slapping the collar bone of Vester with a chuckle and a grin, "Slick move."

"Next!" Vester back steps from the fallen sentry and spin around, jogging over the fresh clay further down into the open cave tunnel with a smile.

04:17 p.m.

55 feet ahead inside the cave

220 feet from the entrance of the cavern and sunshine

Fourth sentry post setting

The tall blonde haired male aims a cold rifle barrel and a sour frown at Vester and then Vassar with a sneer. "Halt there and identify yourselves!"

Vester and Vassar halt and stand between two cheekbones on the sentry guard with a smile. Vester thumbs back over a collar bone with a smile, "Sleepy. Grump. Bashful," He points at the fourth sentry with a confused brow. "Who are you, again, dude?"

"Angry..." Vassar reaches over and pops the nose bridge on the fourth sentry with a growl and a sour frown.

The sentry stumbles backward from the violent pitch into the dirt wall, landing into a crump of mixed limbs, bleeding from the nostrils, unconscious.

Vester and Vassar spin dash ahead over the dirt soil to the next surprise.

Tank moves slowly behind and totes numerous back packs for him and Vester.

Duke moves behind Vester and Vassar and then stops, dropping the three backpacks, squatting down on the dirt soil. He pulls and attacks with his hunting knife for a permanent rest on the last stupid sentry that works for an evil man like Duff Loyce. Now, each sentry is dead and has permanently descended down into fiery hell.

Then, their evil master Duff Loyce will be joining them, soonest.

Teague dashes down the red soil without a backpack and quickly catches up with Vester, Vassar, Tank, and Duke, passing them all while searching for Nadean without shouting.

Vassar drops down his backpack of gear and dashes ahead, reaching out, slamming his hand over the collar bone on Teague, stopping in place. He spins Haywood around to face a sneer and a sour frown. "I lead this posse. Nadean is our sister. I don't know her medical condition, Teague. But I shore as hell don't want your cowgirls and your cowboys fucking this up. You pace two steps back, boy. Let me analysis the delicate situation. Vester or I will issue the command. Then you can lead, deal?"

"Done!" Teague exhales with worry and nods with a stern face.

Vassar and Duke move ahead together and stop dropping down the numerous backpacks down onto the dirt soil, scooting around Teague, advancing down the cavern dirt. They slowly pace side by side and track the red clay soil, examining each set of foot prints from Nadean or Loyce. Vassar stops and spots a set of shiny pieces of metal the size of a pink finger down in the red clay, sliding toward the objects, kneecapping without touching the objects, but studying the items.

Duke dashes behind the rear of skull on Vassar and pulls out his hand gun, standing behind while protecting his lover/husband from harm and a crazy-ass misplaced Duff Loyce.

Vester and Tank slowly move around Teague and the other standing FDA team members, splitting up, moving beside each walls. They study each dirt, the soil ceiling and the matching red clay ground. Then they stop and stand behind the red colored buzz cut on Vassar without speech.

Vassar reaches down and grabs one of the objects, slowly lifting a small skinny horizontal fragment of silver-tinted metal into the air with a stern face as a set of four eyeballs study the tiny object.

Without wording, Vester sidesteps around Vassar and moves ahead, looking down with a stern face at the soil. Tank moves parallel beside Vester with his hand gun traveling deeply into the red underground cavern for both protection and love of his lover/husband.

The underground natural red clay cavern does not contain a set of water puddles over the dirt floor or a batch of vegetable growth from the dirt ceiling, since the tall concrete and steel office building has suffocated all the oxygen molecules and the warm sunlight from life within the damp and cold cavern.

Vester has advanced forward another twenty feet from the last sentry without encountering another gun or another new face, calculating the distance at 220 feet. The four sentries had been exactly fifty-five feet apart. He feels this is the correct direction, since Loyce is a genius, too.

Therefore, the next gun or face will belong to Loyce, himself.

Vester reaches over and pulls out his hand gun from a rear-mounting shoulder hostler, cuddling into both hands and as his eyeballs slice to the left and to the right for Loyce. Then Vester slides to a stop over the semi-moist clay soil within the semi-moist air molecules, creating a sweaty pinky-pink face, dropping down on one kneecap with Tank.

They both observe the mess.

Tank aims the hand gun at each object which occupies a semi-circle of scattered pieces of equipment pieces. There are furniture items, such like, a gray metal non-rolling chair, a pine wooden bar stool, a wooden television eating tray, a gray limestone boulder rock, and a set of numerous components of wiring that shoot upright from a set of numerous small and medium sized brown packing boxes.

Vassar stands upright from the dirt soil and carries one of the tiny metal fragments, dashing ahead in silence over the dirt and then stops. He stands behind the back spine on Vester. He holds a cupped hand with the metal fragment in the air near his eardrum while quietly signaling for the FDA team to halt in place inside the cave. A loaded hand gun rests inside his right shooting hand aiming between air space of Vester and Tank for love and protection of his kin.

Vester squat down on threes (two boot toes, one left palm). He aims the gun at the new set of metal friends and as his eyeballs cut side to side and up and down for some quick-ass action from Loyce but sees nothing, feeling intense. He slowly stops in place and then eases a face around one of the man-made cylinder concrete columns, sitting back on both kneecaps.

The vanilla-colored column of solid concrete represents one of many vertical anchors that holds up the concrete foundation within the tall office building in place without the entire structure drowning down in a sea of red clay dirt within a naturally formed underground cavern.

Vester can see a clearing...naw...an opening on the left side on the column formation which is a naturally looking cave-room with a red clay dirt ceiling that elegantly curves into three solid walls of red dirt clay. The fourth wall appears as an entrance and exit way, measuring twenty feet in width and height. He crawls forward on his kneecaps for a closer look with a worried brow.

There is a solo vanilla colored square shaped set that displays a flat mattress box springs on top of the dirt soil and a matching naked bed mattress on top of the mattress box springs without a set of nice colorful bed linens.

His older sister Nadean is tied down in the middle of the naked bed mattress as her body forms a spread eagle position with a set of ropes...naw...wires. The four silver tinted wires sparkle with the artificial lights inside the cave-room.

A natural cavern does not contain a set of natural lighting coming up from the dirt soil or down from the dirt ceiling like a single ray of direct heat from a solar sun.

Loyce has trucked by hands and by dolly inside the natural forming cave-room a set of four portal flood lights. Each portal flood light sits prettily on top of a thick wooden pole which is buried and anchored inside each corner within the cave-room like a beautiful and mental sick bedroom setting. The pole measures at fifteen foot in height and beams down a 200-watt single lighted bright bulb directly down on Nadean like she is a Hollywood movie starlet.

Nadean is semi-naked, wearing only a pair of girly panties and a bra, posing underneath a white colored blanket in the shape of a rectangle. The white blanket covers both her kneecaps, moving up to both her elbow points and then hangs down straight across her throat and collar bone. Her leg shins, feet, toes, both forearms, both hands, and all fingers are naked and is exposed to the cool elements of the natural cavern.

A single thin band of silver wire loops around each ankle bone and wrist bone on Nadean. The wire loops in a complete oval circle, returning back into the red dirt wall, attaching to an individual white metal devise that is buried and burrowed deep within the red clay dirt wall.

Vester feels a folded shadow from Tank on the left. A pair of binoculars appears in the air. Vester does not blink an eyelid, reaching out and grabs the object, moving toward the eye sockets. He views the looped ankle wire, where the object is closest to his face.

The wire shape is presented in a series of round elongated lines, meaning the roundness and smoothness of the thin wire is not slowly cutting down into the delicate skin flesh and hard bone of Nadean. The entire wire set up and the cave-room represent a showcase of something weird-ass.

Once Vester has cut through the four thin wires with a hunting knife, releasing Nadean into his protection and safety, then he will find Loyce and kill him with both of bare hands, without a fucking weapon like his favorite fictitious badass e-novel character Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth always does. Since the e-novel character is based on the true life and personality of Vester, because he and Vassar has created and written every Quartet e-novels, publishing on the internet for fucking fun.

Vester scoots the pair of binoculars around the cave-room to see her right ankle bone, then her right wrist bone, and then her left wrist bone, not seeing a set of heavy volumes of red blood proteins but observes a set of tiny whacks of red stain on each limb of skin. Nadean slowly shifts a limb back and forth from her air breathing motion. She peacefully sleeps with a set of closed eyelashes like a princess.

Her breathing is steady and deep like a catnap but Vester feels that she is totally conscious, not sedated, since the posture of the four human bones on Nadean are wrapped inside a looping wire occasional that tenses from her breathing. Her eyesight is limited by the pose of her outstretched body that reses on top of the naked bed mattress.

On top of the naked bed mattress, Nadean knows. She is tied and trapped but rescue is on the way.

Vassar slowly crawls over the dirt soil, stops, and crouched beside the cheekbone on Vester with a whisper and a worried brow and a worried heart. "Alive."

"No damage."

"A showcase."

"Agreed," Vassar crawls backward from Vester and stops back fifteen feet from the cave-room, standing upright, swinging around with a stern face to see a row of visitors. Teague, Eckward, and the rest of FDA field investigators stand in a semi-crooked row, dropping down numerous container tubs of survival gear and back packs from different body parts, blocking the exit of the cave. Vassar holds both arms into the air and slowly moves ahead, motioning for the crew to back away from the cave-room showcase and an alive and trapped Nadean.

Teague approaches with a sour puss face, stops and blocks Vassar with a six feet slightly thin frame against a six feet and eight inched giant of man. The Garland twins are taller than a pine tree and wider than a small pick-up truck. Teague recognizes the exact height and weight body frame on OT like his two uncles while kicking into his neurons for not figuring out OT's biological family unit. Then, maybe, Teague could have saved Nadean from the greed of money and ambition of freedom of Loyce, in which, Loyce has tried to use and abuse her son OT to rig the National Football University Championship between the Birmingham University and the Birmingham State University.

The odds of both teams from the great State of Alabama playing in a dog fight championship game are outer space astronomical, unless you are a crazy genius person with a single of crazy goal of immediate money wealth, without the necessary local fame.

Loyce had rigged all the saving bank accounts from each bank customer, pulling out, accumulating a grand total liquid asset of three million dollars from the Third National Bank of Florida, which had been the only Florida bank within metro city Birmingham.

The Third National Bank of Florida is an exclusively Florida chain of both bank and bankers, while the banking system is slowly invading the southeast with one branch location in each major city, creating excellent customer competition.

The Birmingham customers had immediately jumped on the new bank wagon with a set of slick interest rates and promise of no banking fees as Loyce had electronically links all saving bank accounts into one personal bank account of Nadean Orion Garland. Then Loyce had sent the three million dollars from the single account into one of his gambling accounts at one of the Las Vegas football gambling computer systems. He didn't have to produce a cloth bag of hard cash, if his gambling bet on the champion Birmingham State University win had paid off at three to one Las Vegas gambling odds.

This was where OT came into game play. Loyce had captured and kidnapped Nadean, the biological mother of OT, holding her as his electronically ransom. If OT missed or did not mess with the Bam U quarterback sack, like always, and he allowed one extra math point upon the score board over the Burn U football team, then the football game time would expire out.

Loyce would receive three dollars for every gambled dollar bill, so three million dollar multiplied by three which equaled nine million dollars all US income tax free. Since he had illegally setup a new and empty bank account within the Cayman Islands for a permanent retirement and a one-way travel airplane trip today at six pm.

But first, Loyce had to get passed a nosy FDA Inspector Teague Haywood, who had taken an interest in the old maiden Nadean for some reason.

Loyce was a chicken shit without violence as he was extremely overweight from eating too many Dee Dee's hamburger and ketchup-covered French fries, since he would not kill Nadean but only allow her body to fall into light coma from starvation and weakness. OT would immediately report Nadean missing, since she was supposed to attend the championship game. However, the police plus the rest of the pissed off Burn U fans would have delayed the searching and seeking of Nadean Garland, especially since she was hidden out of eyeball sight inside an underground dark and damp cavern.

Teague was impressed and pissed at Loyce's genius and guts. However, Loyce had forgotten to research all the biological relatives of OT, including the brilliant Garland twins.

Vassar had intercepted and captured a single voice transmission coming from Loyce's personal mobile telephone that had been made from a mysterious location within Birmingham, going directly into the personal mobile telephone of OT inside the stadium, right before the start of the game.

However, Vassar had brilliantly redirected the single solo personal telephone call message into Vester's personal mobile telephone. Vester perfectly imitated the baritone timbre like his nephew. Vester had play acted as OT, promising to blow the national championship football game for Burn U and Loyce while keeping Nadean safe and alive.

Then Loyce would provide a set of geographical directions by a single mobile telephone text to OT, revealing the secret location of his mom Nadean.

It did not take a South American monkey one second on the clock to figure out that Loyce was hiding someplace inside the Old Gray Man, since he and the other bank employees had received a free football championship ticket and an access pass into the skybox of the Third National Bank of Florida. So, the final act of killing Loyce might look really ugly in front of his co-workers.

On top of the moisture red clay dirt, inside the underground cavern, twin brother Vassar leans over with a stern face and a whisper to Teague. "Nadean is here. We found her."

"Time for the rescue," Teague jerks back from Vassar with a smile and a nod.

Vassar reaches out and grabs the arm on Teague for a second time, man-pulling him into a chest, saying with a sour frown and a sneer. "Naw! She is bound by a set of thin wires around her delicates bones like a prisoner or worse a victim."

"Cut the wires. Get her into a hospital." Teague frowns and tries to pull away from Vassar without success.

"Naw," Vassar whispers. "This is more complicated then cutting the wires, Teague. This is our sister. This is our rescue. This is our plan. I really appreciate you and Bobcat, especially uncovering Loyce's deceitful plot. But we are executing the rescue our way. So you just stay out of our way, Tomcat."

Teague sneers. "You and Vester may be rich bastards, but ya'll ain't the Quartet. That's a fictional book with fictional characters and a fictional fairy tale ending."

Vassar smirks. "Know that, asshole Sawyer! Because, I have created and wrote all those damn e-novels, since I represent the fictional badass character of Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third. Dr. Mangrove is the one with only a set of robotic feelings."

Teague gasps. "What!"

04:22 p.m.

Underground cavern of red clay soil and gray limestone rock

Location of Nadean

Fourth game of the National Championship game

Humid temperatures with damp air currents

Duke moves ahead and stops, standing beside Vassar. He reaches out and gently touches the cheekbone on Vassar, looking down with a worried brow at the new mobile telephone wrist watch. "The football game has started the fourth quarter that translates into forty-five minutes or less until the end of the game, sweetie."

Vassar continues to block Teague with a sneer. "How many time-outs are posted?"

Duke reaches down and fiddles with at the mobile telephone wrist watch. "Each team possesses three time-outs."

Vassar smiles with a nod, "Excellent! That translates into one hour and more until the end of the national championship game, my beauty."

Teague jerks away from Vassar with a growl and scoots around the two tall men, moving ahead to see Vester with a sour frown.

At 04:31 p.m. inside the cave with humid temperatures with damp air currents, Vester slowly stands upright from the soil and studies the empty air space between the nicely created cave-room and the interior walls and ceiling of the cavern. He parks both hands on his utility belt and as his eyeballs dart side to side, memorizing the showcase. His neurons calculate all the visual information.

Teague pulls up and stops beside the nose profile on Vester, seeing Nadean inside the cave-room with a gasp and a worried heart.

Vester leans over with a whisper into the cheekbone of Teague, "Stay put. Stay quiet."

"Rescue..." Teague points at the cave-room with a sour frown and a furious shout.

"Stay quiet, Teague," Vester reaches over with a worried brow and man-pulls Teague into a chest, blocking the lips of Teague with a forearm. They back pedal like a three deformed monster back towards the small huddle of people which is composed the FDA inspectors, Tank, Duke, and Vassar.

Vassar does not talk but moves back toward the entrance of the cave, lifting into the air and motioning with two hands, signaling for all the visitors to move far away from Nadean and her cave-room.

Vester stops and stands beside Vassar which is fifteen feet away from Nadean. Vester, Vassar, Tank, Duke, and Teague huddle with the group at the cave wall. The rest of the FDA inspector gather inside the loose circle about twenty more feet behind the cave-room.

Vester frowns at Vassar. "Vassar, there is something weird-ass here. The clay dirt just didn't happen to create a lovely bedroom setting along with that man-made bed mattress. The clay dirt has been hauled and molded forming an almost perfect square living space like a bedroom. And the two columns of concrete are part of the man-made setting but clearly are two of many foundation anchors that support the tall building, where we stand and breath. Nadean is resting on top of the soft naked mattress in an eagle-spread position. Her ankles and wrists are tied and bound with a set of four separate individual ropes of thin wiring. The wiring, whether steel or aluminum, is a natural conductor of heat."

Teague frowns at Vester. "It is a cave..."

Vassar leans down with a whisper and a stern face into the eardrum on Teague, "Please, whisper your idea into my face or my chin, not the air waves."

Teague exhales with annoyance and whispers with a stern face into the tight huddle. "The cave is cool, almost cold with the wet humidity."

Vester turns and scans the walls of the cavern, collecting more visual data, saying with a whisper into the tight formation of the group. "The wet cave produces more vapor moisture, creating an excellent source of power for something weird-ass, also."

Vassar nods with a whisper and a stern face, "Loyce, set up this showcase for a particular scientific purpose."

Vester leans over with a whisper into the cheekbone on Teague. "Teague, go and grab that furniture piece and scoot it around the natural made gray colored rock formation along with the television tray over here. The metal chair over there and place the short bar stool next door to the metal chair." Teague nods in silence and back step from the huddle, spinning around, dashing back down to the FDA team huddle with a set of new instructions.

Vassar whispers to each face inside the cave. "Set up the laptops. Scan for all electro-magnetic force field activity inside the cave-room."

The four computer geeks drop down and kneel down in the dirt, unzipping each backpack, removing all the electronic gear.

04:33 p.m.

Underground cavern

Cave-room setting

Each FDA inspector, Vester, and his family members quickly prepare a nice working computer laboratory environment using a flat table surface from the trashed furniture pieces with an individual silver-tinted laptop. A set of four computer geeks kneel in front of the made-shift small uneven table surface, typing on a tiny computer laptop keyboard with a stern face.

Teague back steps from the row of computer geeks of Tank, Duke, Vester, and Vassar, swinging around to face his FDA inspectors, motioning with a hand and a stern. He wants each FDA inspector to stand behind a geek and monitor their progress.

Vassar pulls up a new colored computer screen with numerous bright colored yellow, dark green, and hot pink wiggling horizontal and vertical lines. The computer screen swiftly translates the information into rows of partial English sentences in words and alphabetic letters with a black tinted background.

Vester stand upright from the dirt in front of his laptop and holds his mobile telephone in the air like taking numerous digital photographs.

Without any vocal command, the three other computer geeks stand upright from the dirt in front of their individual laptop, holding an individual mobile telephone in the air too, making clicking sounds with the free hand. They continue to take a set of electronic digital pictures inside the interior of the cave-room, squatting down on kneecaps again, locking the mobile telephone into the rear of each laptop.

Teague spins around with a puzzled brow and moves ahead, kneeling beside Vassar, staring at the pretty colored computer screen in silence.

Vassar smiles and types on the tiny computer laptop keyboard. "We are creating a 3-D image with the laptop. The mobile telephone camera lenses will re-create a hologram right here in the middle of the cavern air space between the concrete column anchor and the screens of each recording computer camera."

The air molecules shift and twirl into the colors of hot pink, bright yellow, neon orange, sky blue, and puke green before the naked eyeballs of Teague.

The image is an outline of the cave-room with Nadean. The square archway is outlined in the color of hot pink, forming a perfect square. The bed mattress is outlined in the color of bright yellow with the same length, depth, and height of the real naked bed mattress that Nadean rests upon.

Nadean is a she-ghost of colored neon orange without a set of eyeballs, a head of hair, and without clothes, resting on top of the yellow bed mattress.

The four sets of individual wires are attached to each ankle bone and wrist bone on Nadean and as each one is colored in dark blood red. The electronic image makes Nadean appear like a sleeping puppet on a set of strings.

Each wire is connected to her limb and then soars slightly upward at a 120-degree angle toward one of two hot pink colored perpendicular walls. Around the colorful outline, there is a small circle of puke colored neon green and pretty sky blue colors, bumping and bouncing off each other like a set of floating baby cloud puffs.

Teague is impressed and pissed, leaning over and bad breathing into the cheekbone of Vassar with a growl, "Nice touch, man! But you're wasting my precious time. Let's get Duchess out of there, pronto. Get her to a doctor and find that bastard, Loyce."

Vassar exhales with a frown, typing on the computer keyboard. "Teague, Loyce will not harm Nadean. She is the primary key for activating OT to blow the football game in favor of Bam U. He will kill her and OT after Bam U secures the championship title, not before. However, the Calvary has truly arrived inside the cavern."

"What is with the blue and green circles?" Teague points at the 3-D hologram in the middle of the air space.

Vassar stands upright from the dirt and back steps from his computer, sidestepping to the left, motioning with a hand for the gang to huddle again. He moves away from the electronic hologram, the real Nadean, and the cave-room. The FDA inspectors, Tank, Duke, Vester and Vassar form a tight circle, standing fifteen feet away from Nadean.

Teague continue to stay down on both kneecaps and stares at Nadean with a sigh of worry, standing upright from the dirt, sidestepping into the same huddle. He stands at the nose profile on Vassar with a sneer and a sour frown. "What the fuck is going on here, Vassar?"

Vassar whispers. "We are trying to determine the echo-location of matter around Nadean."

Teague growls. "I don't follow, fellow."

Vassar smiles at the nose profile on Elf. "How far can you mouth split, Elf?"

Elf smiles at Vassar. "A southern redneck has been documented to spit out his tongue of saliva at twenty-seven inches at the local spitting championship fair there in Huntsville. The secret is for your mouth spit to hold lots of phlegm, drinking sweet milk will create lots of phlegm. You move the mouth spit ball to the front of your teeth and hold your lips tight shut. Then you start to blow out, slowly building up air pressure inside your mouth and cheeks and teeth gums. Then you part open your lips, allowing the air to escape very rapidly like a blow gun. Thus, the mouth spit flies far, far away from your lips."

Vassar nod to each face within the huddle of people. "A llama mammal from the _camelid_ family can split six feet and six inches in distance. That particular disgusting animal behavior is executed while showing dominance toward the rest of herd members for either fighting or for defense. A human being can detect light bad breath within their nostrils from three feet away. When you talk, it causes the air molecules in front to bump into the air molecules in front of it to bump into the other bunch of air molecules. This is how sound travels. Sound requires matter to function as the sound is the vibration of matter. In outer space, there is no solid matter, therefore there is no sound. The matter is both composed of the blue and green circles inside the mini-room. Therefore, I do not want to disturb the blue and green matter around Nadean. When you whisper, there is a loss of bumping energy, creating a low wave form."

Vester leans into the huddle and hands out a pea-shaped mechanical devise that is painted in dull gray to each team member with a whisper and a grin. "Place this single ear bug implant inside your dominate eardrum and then whisper out each one of your vocal words. Each one of us can hear your vocal idea or response. Please move back around the 3-D hologram as we figure out how to retrieve Nadean from the spider's web set up by Loyce." He places a pea-shaped mechanical devise inside one of his eardrums without testing the device, back stepping from the huddle, spinning around. He moves back to the make-shift uneven table with his laptop with a stern face.

Vassar places the ear bug into an eardrum and spins around, moving back to his assigned make-shift uneven table surface, kneeling down. He screws a tiny joy stick inside the middle hole on his laptop. He stands upright from the dirt and holds the laptop in one palm, back stepping from the make-shift table, slowly scooting around each side on the 3-D hologram. He whispers out loud and as his ear bug captures each word and transmits to each team member. "This is not a magnetic field of an ideal cylindrical magnet with axis symmetry inside the plane image, Vester." He continues to record information with the computer and as his eyeballs view the 3-D hologram image.

Vester kneels in place and types on the keyboard with a whisper and as his ear bug transmits to each team member, too, "Agreed."

Teague exhales with a huff of worry and back steps from the loose circle of people, spinning around, moving ahead. He halts and kneels down next to the cheekbone on Vester with a whisper and as his ear bug transmits to each team member. "I'm whispering to you. What are you doing besides wasting my fucking precious time here? Duchess needs an ambulance, a hospital, and a physician."

Vester studies the 3-D hologram in the air space. "We are trying to determine why Nadean is tied by both of her ankles and wrists with a single piece of silver-tinted wiring."

Elf moves ahead and kneels down beside Tank, watching everything with a puzzled brow, whispering out loud and as his ear bug transmits to each team member. "What do you think is it?"

Bull moves ahead and kneels down beside Duke, studying the computer screen and each wire on Nadean while whispering out loud and as his ear bug transmits to each team member. "Bobbed wire for fencing comes in a variety of lengths and strengths to meet all your animal control needs on the farm.

Vassar whispers and types on the computer keyboard. "Each coil of wire comes together to form a strong magnetic field, Vester."

Ram moves ahead and stops, standing at the back spine on Elf, wearing a confused brow and whispers out loud and as his ear bug captures and transmits to each team member. "Looks like plain ole conductor wire to me."

Moose moves ahead and stops, leaned against the dirt wall, standing behind the back spine on Bull with a confused brow. He stares at each wire and whispers out loud and as his ear bug captures and transmits to each team member. "An electrified fence must be kept insulated from the earth or clay dirt, working properly. That's why the wire is string end to end hovering in the air waves like a kite."

Bull whispers out loud and stares at each wire on Nadean. "Most electric fence wiring is used for cows and horses. I got a set of three mile rows of that silver stuff inside my cow barn."

"Naw," Elf whispers out loud and stares at each wire on Nadean with a confused brow, "The gauge measurement of the wiring diameter is too thin. Four-gauge is used as automobile wiring. Six-gauge are in all household appliance like ovens. And twelve-gauge is for animal fencing around my pasture."

Teague exhales with a huff of worry, leaning into the cheekbone on Vester with a growl, "Don't bother analyzing shit, now. Cut the damn wires down, take her to the hospital."

Female FDA inspector code named Peacock moves ahead and stops, leaning against the dirt wall, standing behind the back spine on Teague with a confused brow. She stares at each wire and whispers out loud and as her ear bug captures and transmits to each team member. "Can the computer analysis the component of the wiring?"

Vassar types on the keyboard computer with a whisper. "The readout says silver colored, no rust aluminum conductor wire, unpolished finish, soft temper, 26-gauge measurement and .04-millimeter diameter, twenty-feet length, all four pieces."

Female FDA inspector code named Lamb moves ahead and stops, standing beside Peacock with a puzzled brow. She stares at each wire on Nadean and whispers out loud and as her ear bug captures and transmits to each team member. "What's the purpose of the wire?"

Teague exhales with a huff of worry, sitting back on kneecaps, staring at Nadean with a worried heart. "Just cut it off of her right now. I can ask Loyce that particular question, once I beat his ass."

Bobcat moves ahead and stands beside Peacock and the back spine on Teague with a worried brow, whispering out loud and as his ear bug captures and transmits to each team member. "Naw, Tomcat! I agree with Vassar. Cutting a six-gauge wire requires a good pair of diagonal wire cutters. Anything over that you need a small pair of bolt cutters."

Bull stares at each wire and whispers out loud. "And a piece of wire over the size of ten-gauge has to be stripped, before it can be cut."

Peacock whips out and views her mobile telephone, whispering out loud all the new information into each ear bug. "Here! I got some wire data to share with all of you. Number 36 AWG is 0.005 inches in diameter. Number 0000 is 0.46 inches in diameter. The ratio of these diameters is 1:92. And there are 40-gauge sizes from number 36 to number 0000."

The other FDA inspectors move ahead and form a line beside Peacock, staring at Nadean with worry. Each one whips out their personal mobile telephone, searching for more wire information.

FDA inspector code named Dove stands beside her co-worker FDA inspector code named Snake and whispers out loud the new information into each ear bug. "Wire is a single cylinder elongated strand of drawn metal that was first invented over 2,000 years BC. And it was discovered within Ancient Rome from a set of gold nuggets that had been pounded into a set of flat sheets."

Chipmunk whispers out loud from her mobile telephone the new information into each ear bug. "Wire is manufactured by pulling a solid metal cylinder through a draw plate with holes of a defined size until the desired size is reached. Today, wire is used for post fencing to the electronics industry to electrical distribution and finally in the making of jewelry."

Lamb whispers out loud from her mobile telephone the new information into each ear bug. "Here! I found this. Two-gauge wire is large like a pencil lead while 30-gauge wire is fine like a piece of sewing thread."

Snake stands beside Chipmunk and stares at each wire on Nadean whispering out loud and as his ear bug transmits to each team member. "That particular piece of silver tinted finely woven wire is not used for sewing. It looks more like wire that used for my wife's earring."

Peacock types on her mobile phone and whispers out loud the new information into each ear bug. "That's it. This is a piece of jewelry wire. The wire is a measurement of the diameter or gauge of wire used to manufacture necklaces and such."

Dove types on her mobile telephone and whispers out loud into each ear bug. "For jewelry applications, the gauges most common are between 12 to 28 math sizes as defined by the American Wire Gauge or AWG and are presented in measurements of millimeters. A bracelet wire component is 16-guage. A necklace is 18-gauge. A nasty nose stub is 20-gauge while an earring wire is 26-gauge or 0.4 millimeters. We found it."

"Let's cut Nadean out of the earring wiring. Everybody, empty your pockets for some cutting implements." Bobcat looks up from his telephone to see each inspector. A good redneck carries around one or more deadly sharp pointy instruments, such like, a hunting knife, a pair of sewing scissor, or an eating forks.

Bull reaches down into blue jeans pocket of his blue jeans and pulls out, lifting up with a grin and a whisper a weapon, showing it to each face, "One hunting knife."

Peacock reaches down into her blue jeans and pulls out, lifting up into the air near her smile a weapon, showing it to each face, "A pair of scissors."

Duckie lifts up near a grin his weapon to each face. "I got a pair of needle nose pliers from my back pocket, just for such emergencies."

Bobcat reaches down into his blue jeans pocket and grabs, lifting up with a smile a smile and a nod his weapon. "I got a switchblade. Now, we have four pieces of wire cutters to relief Duchess of her jewelry bracelets."

Vassar back steps from the 3-D hologram image and stops, side stepping, kneeling down in front of the make-shift table surface. He places the laptop on top of the uneven surface and types on the keyboard with a stern face in silence.

Teague exhales with a huff of worry and leans into the cheekbone on Vassar with a growl as the ear bug captures his raw feeling of worry and announced to each team member, "What are you doing, now, man? We have the new hand held cutting equipment. Please cut Duchess loose from her bondage. I can see dried blood forming over her right ankle."

Vassar types on the keyboard with a smile and a whisper. A tiny side panel on the computer opens. Then a tiny object flies out from the side opening at the base of the laptop computer, slowly lifting into the air and holds in air space, like magic. Each pair of eyeballs turn and stare at the object and as each pair of eardrums hear the explanation from Vassar. "Meet FRONE. The capital letters represent Flying Remote ONE, instead of a bulky ugly gray drone. It serves the same purpose without weapons but in miniature tiny fingernail size. The devise is the size of a green round pea that is colored in tan for disguise into an ear hole or a nose hole or up an ass hole, if necessary. And I hate green peas just to update your FDA records, Teague. The vegetable makes me vomit up green puke over my dinner plate."

Teague turns and frowns at the floating tan colored pea shaped device. "Who uses this technology?"

Vassar types on the keyboard with a smile and a whisper. "The NSI has purchased for five point six billion dollars in US from me and Vester which is really our business company with a delivery date of January first, next year, as planned." He drives the metal-shaped pea with the tiny joystick on the laptop in a forward motion, flying it two feet up from the clay dirt soil toward the open archway of the cave-room.

All eyeballs stare at the floating pea.

Vester types on the computer keyboard with a whisper. "Halt right before you enter the archway, I wanna measure the oxygen protons and electrons on my computer."

Vassar stops the pea and floats the tiny devise in the air between the vanilla-concrete columns that act as an entrance doorway into the cave-room with Nadean.

Vester whispers into ear bug. "Excellent! FRONE barely shifts the air molecules. Travel the pea into the right eardrum of Nadean, so she can hear us."

Vassar shifts the tiny joystick and flies the pea in a forward motion through the invisible archway. The pea shifts upward and flies toward the earlobe on Nadean. She still appears like a sleeping princess with a set of non-moving limbs and a pair of closed eyelashes.

At 04:34 p.m. in front of the archway cave-room, I hear a faint buzzing sound then tense my wrist bones as the wire cuts into the delicate skin. I mentally relax breathing deeply. A nest of buzzing bumblebees does not live inside an underground cavern for pollinating the clay or stinging a stinger on a helpless old maiden.

I open my eyelashes and stare up at red clay ceiling and then a floating tan colored rounded object. The object is making the buzzing sound. The tan colored rounded object is a tiny devise maybe for communication from Teague...naw...Vester.

My two brothers are here inside the cave.

I exhale a deep breath without seeing my brothers but feel that my brothers are here to save OT. And they will do that too.

The pea drops down and stops, hovering near the earlobe on Nadean, saying with a sissy soprano voice. Vassar says via the pea. "Nadean! This is your cute and smart brother Vassar. Don't move. Old news for you," chuckling.

I part my lips and feel my mouth salvia drop across my chin, holding my breath, whispering softly, without moving my arms. The arm movement causes the wire to shift towards the right. Then the wire saws down into the right side on my bone, feeling the sting from the cut and heat from my spilling blood protein.

I whisper into the floating pea, "Sharpshooter. OT."

Vassar says via the pea into her eardrum, "We are getting you out, soonest, Sis. Just be very silence and still for a little while longer."

"Sharpshooter. OT."

Vassar says via the pea into her eardrum. "It will be another fifteen minutes. I promise, Sis."

"Sharpshooter. OT."

Vassar says via the pea into her eardrum. "We love you, Sis. I will be back at you in a few more minutes. I promise."

Outside the cave-room, Vester types on the keyboard with a stern face. "Bring FRONE back. I do not want to disturb any more air molecules until we have figured the link between the wiring, the cave, and Nadean."

In front of the dirt wall, Bobcat move away from the wall and stops, standing in-between the rear skulls on Vassar and Vester, wearing a worried brow. He holds up his switchblade and whispers into his ear bug. "Damn it. Cut the wires. Get her out now. We're ready to make the move. She needs a physician and a hospital."

"I heard something." Teague leans down with a puzzled brow and stares into the laptop. "Nadean spoke to us. Send the pea in back in there."

Vester shakes a red colored buzz-cut with a stern face, "That is too dangerous, Teague. The pea has awoken Nadean out of her light slumber, causing the wires to shift over each one of her tied limbs. She is blooding a little more on her right wrist bone and her right ankle bone. Nadean is dominantly right-handed. So, that makes perfect sense. She has violently reacted from FRONE, moving her right sided limbs."

Teague narrows his eyelids and stares in the distance at the stillness of Nadean on top of the naked bed mattress and whispers into each ear bug, "Naw. Nadean spoke a couple of words. Can you play it back for me, Vassar?"

Tank stands upright from his assigned make-shift table surface with his laptop, scoots sideways, and then stops, ramming a kneecap into the back spine on Teague, whispering into each ear bug. "I have the recording on my laptop, Teague. Let us move away from the Command Center. You can see and hear it over and over again as long as you want, Teague."

Teague slowly stand upright from the soil with a sour frown and back steps from Vassar, sidestepping along the wall and away from the Command Center. The Command Center consists of four pieces of mismatched furniture pieces, including a flat top limestone boulder. He clears the scattered pieces of equipment and the three assholes that make up the Command Center, spinning around, moving ahead toward the entrance of the cave that is 150 feet away from the warm sunrays of a winter day in January inside the State of Alabama.

Tank sidestepped along the dirt wall and moves forward to the entrance of the cave and then halts in front of the numerous backpacks and containers from the FDA office. He stands twenty feet away from Nadean and the cave-room, kneecapping down into the red clay dirt, holding the laptop between two open palms with a stern face of silence.

Teague, Bobcat, and the other FDA inspectors sidestep away from the Command Center and stop, forming a small circle, squatting down into the dirt around the laptop and Tank, viewing the computer screen for more information.

Teague stops and squats down into the dirt and next to Tank, removing the ear bug, interfering with his natural hearing.

Tank presses a button and replays the complete scene on the computer screen.

The pea floats in place at the archway and slowly flies into the cave-room, over the red clay dirt, over the middle of the bed mattress between the spread legs on Nadean who lies underneath the white blanket.

The pea steers toward the left side of the mattress, traveling over her right breast and then halts and floats down at her right eardrum, saying with a sissy soprano voice from Vassar. "Nadean! This is your cute and smart brother Vassar. Don't move. Old news for you," chuckling.

Nadean parts her lips as mouth salvia drops across a chin, saying into the floating pea, "Sharpshooter. OT."

Vassar says via the pea into her eardrum, "We are getting you out, soonest, Sis. Just be very silence and still for a little while longer."

" **Sharpshooter. OT."**

Teague reaches over and slaps the arm on Tank, stopping the recording from FRONE. Tank presses the halt button with a puzzled brow and stares at the computer screen. Teague leans over a stern face into the laptop screen with a worried heart, viewing screen for more eardrum clarity.

Tank, Bobcat, and the other FDA inspectors remove each ear bug for better audio from the tiny speaker of the laptop too.

Teague slaps the arm on Tank to continue the recording.

Vassar says via the pea into her eardrum. "It will be another fifteen minutes. I promise, Sis."

" **Sharpshooter. OT."**

Vassar says via the pea into her eardrum. "We love you, Sis. I will be back at you in a few more minutes. I promise."

Teague hears the soft two words coming from the parted lips on Nadean with immediate panic, standing upright from the dirt soil with a worried face and a worried heart, turning to Bobcat. Bobcat stands upright from the dirt and view with a pair of worried pupils Teague. Teague does not replace the ear bug and pocket the devise down into his blue jeans, since Vester can here the set of dangerous disturbing words: Sharpshooter. OT.

Loyce is going to kill OT on the football field, whether win or loss.

Each FDA inspector and Tank stand upright from the dirt soil and stare at Teague with a worried brow in silence.

"Fuck!" Teague whispers and leans into the circle of professional. "Duchess just whispered Loyce has a sharpshooter on OT, if he wins or not that boy is dead. Move it, Bobcat! Take all them up to the top bleachers and spread out like fingers, looking for that sharpshooter who is probably hiding within the shadows or dressed as vendor or a stupid cougar man. Elf, Bull, Dove, and Peacock stand high guard and help get Duchess to safety. Then, all of you get her ass to the hospital, pronto, now. We are going and grabbing OT right after the game's complete. Go!"

Bull does not move and leans into the face on Teague, shaking a skull with a worried brow, "Gawd! There's over 100,000 fans here. Unless, the assassin is right next to a redneck with a concealed weapon, the assassin will successfully escape from his bird perch and then walk an upright body right out into the parking lot, above, or underground and be gone from Bama foreverly."

Snake does not move either and frowns at each face. "Shit! All the Burn U fans are drunk. And the Bam U fans are crazy."

Duckie does not move from the tight huddle and nod to each face. "There is a boat load of fireworks which are set to ignite, right after the game has been won by Burn U."

Peacock smiles to Duckie, "Bam U."

Bobcat frowns to each face, "Shut up, boys and girls."

Teague points to the selected individuals with a stern face and a serious tone. "Elf, Dove, Peacock, Bull, all of you stay and sit right here inside the cavern and assist Vester and Vassar. And do not tell them. Hear me! They're busy saving Nadean from death. They do not need more worry or heartache." He turns and stares at the worried eyeballs on Tank. "Do you hear me, too, Tank?"

Tank nods in silence and holds his computer, back stepped from Teague, spinning around. He replaces the ear bug and slowly moves back to assist Vester and Vassar and save the life of Nadean.

Elf, Dove, Peacock, and Bull back step from huddle and spin around, slowing moving in a tight group of soft whispers. Each one stops and collects a backpack and containers of rescue equipment that will be needed to save Nadean's life. They lift up each piece from the dirt and spin around, moving back toward Vassar, feeling too many conflicting emotions.

Inside the huddle, Teague exhales with worry. "Everyone else, follow me. We're locating and killing Loyce. He knows the location of the assassin, since he has to pay him the other fifty percent of the monies." The inspectors spin around and move back toward the cave entrance. Teague dashes ahead and passes the group, moving towards the entrance cave.

Bobcat moves with the rest of the FDA inspectors, leaning over with to each face. "Listen to me! Go and find a local police officer. Flash your FDA badge and swear them to secrecy. Then tell them OT is in ultimate death danger. The assassin is going to be up high, probably on the highest top two rows or inside a skybox. Tell your police to contact and grab a pair of binoculars, search the ceiling for an upright asshole holding some big elongated game merchandise like a flag or a piece of finger foam. Then tell the police officer to stay puts and relay the physical location to you, personally."

Ram moves beside Teague with a worried brow, "Our agents..."

"...are everywhere with the FBI, CIA, NSA and warriors from the USA military units." Teague halts and types on his mobile telephone with a worried brow. The rest of the inspectors catch up with him. Teague nods to the cave entrance. "I just texted the Alabama governor. She will contact the local, state, and national security teams to watch over our new friend OT. Look! We have planned for something like this. A drunk outraged angry fan waning a gun and wanting to take out one or two of the winning football players. OT is going to be safe and sound. Nadean is going to be safe and sound. And Loyce is safe and sound, if not found."

Snake laughs out loud and exits into the bright and warm sunshine rays at the entrance cave. "Say that three times really fast, Teague!"

Teague exits outside and frowns. "Shut up, Snake!" He spins around and points at the stadium. "I'm taking the level of executive skybox rental suites. Ram, you lead the other FDA inspectors to the west bleachers and find that sharpshooter."

The row of FDA inspectors hit the entrance point and shade a pair of burning eyeballs from the blinking sunshine rays, running ahead to Old Gray Man to save OT from death.

04:39 p.m.

Underground cavern of red clay soil and gray limestone rock walls

Cave-room of Nadean

Humid temperatures with damp air currents

Tank sidesteps along the dirt wall and halts kneecapping, leaning into the cheekbone on Vester with a stern face. He stares at Nadean with a whisper into each ear bug. "What do you think, Vester?"

Vester frowns down at the computer with a whisper into each ear bug. "I think that these wires aren't magically hanging around for beauty just to be snapped off Nadean's wrists and ankles like a puppet string."

Vester turns and stares with a confused brow at each back spine on Teague and the FDA inspectors. They are leaving the cave. He whispers into each ear bug. "I agree. Where are Teague and his FDA party going?"

Tank exhales with a worried brow and stares at Nadean, whispers into each ear bug. "To kill Loyce, they gotta a new lead."

Vester nods with a smile at the back spine on Teague and whispers into each ear bug, "One down and one to go."

Vassar stares down at the computer screen with a smile and whispers into each ear bug. "I'm creating an electric field around the hologram for our eyes and neurons."

Vester turns and stares down at the computer screen with a stern face and a whisper into the ear bug. "And create me a field line too. A field line will visual the vector field like longitude and latitude lines on a globe or topographic lines on a map. They are not physical touchy feely lines with naked hands, only visual electronic tools for analysis to figure out why Loyce has stringed Nadean like a puppet."

Vassar types on the keyboard with a smile and a whsiper into each ear but. "The vector field is an oval shaped that going around and around and around inside an enclosed circular direction as described in your tenth grade geometry class."

Elf move ahead and replaces the ear bug into an eardrum, standing beside the Command Center, studying the 3-D colored hologram of Nadean and the cave-room. He whispers out loud with a confused brow. "Why are you saying that this is an electric field? Loyce is a genius scientist, who was kicked out of NSI. Don't you believe that he used some kind of a fancy electro-magnetic static field around Duchess, protecting her from us invading like a troop of real USA warriors?"

"Naw," Vester looks up with a stern face and points the real wires on Nadean, "Come over here, Elf." Elf sidesteps along the wall and stops, standing behind the back spine and rear skull of Vester, watching the computer screen with a puzzled brow. Vester looks down with a stern face and points at the computer screen, whispering into each ear bug. "Do you see? There are tiny red heated bumps on the computer screen. These are like tiny red dog fleas jumping and bouncing along the electricity flow like an electrified river from one single solo power source. There are four individual power sources for four individual wires. That's the fucking mystery, Elf. But please continue to brain storm, since my brains are working in overdrive along with my emotions."

"Shore, Vester." Vassar smiles and whispers into each ear bug. Elf squats down into the dirt soil with a nod in silence, looking up into the cave-room, inspecting the four different power sources with a set of naked eyeballs and an active brain.

Vester types on the keyboard and whispers into each ear bug. "Our electronic hologram shows an oval region of space containing two charged particles, protons and neutrons. There is not any type of big or small electro-static or electro-magnetic patterns created here. Just an electric field..."

"...for holding a herd of cows." Bull has replaced the ear bug to hear and whispers into the active conversation, stopping and stands beside the Command Center, watching the computer geeks, the 3-D image, and Nadean inside the cave-room.

Vassar types on the computer keyboard with a smile and whispers into each ear bug. "I did what you asked, Vester. I believe our answer lies within the massive collection of colorful charged blue and green air molecules."

Vester stares at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "An electric field is the ratio between a solid force and the feel of a small stinging charge."

Vassar stares at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Yes, I believe that the small charged blue and green air molecules are being felt specifically by Nadean. The molecules surround her and the wires float in a steady pattern, without rotation. That's why she appears almost dead, but breathes in REM sleep. The wrist and ankle bone subtle movements of Nadean are the feeding the manual source, stimulating the electrical charges along the hanging wire. Or else Nadean would be vocalizing more complaints or compliments to us."

Vester stares down at the computer screen and whispers into the ear bug, "Hmm! The blue and green air molecules are quiet along with Nadean. The molecular structure of the air molecules is composed of the blue circles representing the positive protons, while the green are neutrons."

Elf stares at Nadean and whispers into the ear bug. "Do you mean positive and negative air molecules?"

Vester stares down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Correct, Elf. The air molecules with the atmosphere are made up of only five natural gases which are nitrogen, oxygen, water, argon, and hydrogen. The dry air molecules are a mixture of gases where the molecular weight is adjusted and re-calculated by adding in more weight from a different component."

Vassar types on the keyboard and chuckles into each ear bug, "Which different component, Vester? Please specific."

Vester stares down with a stern face into the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "The composition of air doesn't change as you travel up to the heavens, only the air molecules become less available for breathing."

Peacock has replaced her ear bug and stops, squatting down into the dirt soil next to Snake, reading her mobile telephone. She whispers out loud the new information into each ear bug. "When air leaves the human lungs, it contains fourteen percent oxygen and four percent carbon dioxide. A breathing atmosphere with less than sixteen percent of oxygen can become life threatening to us, earthlings."

Vester smiles down at the computer screen and whispers into the ear bug. "That is a breathing human."

Vassar smiles down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "This is a breathing cave."

Elf whips out and types on his mobile telephone, whispering the new information into each ear bug. "Air for a life form is a standard mixture of many gases. Seventy-eight percent nitrogen and twenty-one percent oxygen, these percents are composed within the trace elements of water vapor, carbon dioxide, argon, and others."

Vester types on the computer keyboard with a smile and whispers into each ear bug. "Water vapor contents in one air atmosphere can vary the standard mixture for a life form by heated or cooled temperature."

Vassar stares down with a soft chuckle at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "The humidity is a constant along the flat elevation this dirt cave within Planet Earth's gravity, Vester."

Vester stares down with a sour frown at the computer keyboard and whispers into each ear bug, "Smart ass! Check for changes in the minor gases, such as, sulfur dioxide, methane, carbon monoxide, and etc."

Vassar types on the computer keyboard with a smile and whispers into each ear bug. "Yes, master. However, the composition of the cave air is unchanged, since we raided and killed the four sentries, moved the furniture, and built the hologram."

"Air alters one atmosphere by common pressure units of mercury, water or force." Vester stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug.

Vassar types on the keyboard with a smile and whispers into each ear bug, "Specifically, a common pressure unit of 406.78 inches of water. However, there is not a visual set of water puddles within the dirt ground or a flowing stream of downward drips of water, coming down from the dirt ceiling."

Tank wipes a sweaty face with a sour frown and whispers into each ear bug. "Moisture, I'm sweating like a dog. There is water in the air, making the air molecules heavy."

Vester looks up with a stern face and scan each interior wall inside the cave-room, whispering whisper into each ear bug. "And a single invisible puff of water vapor is a different component that varied within the air molecules. Show me the field line! Magnify the field line by hundred times, Vassar." He looks down to study the computer screen with a stern face.

Vassar stares with a gasp down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "The field line is not looping around the entire length of the oval wire."

Vester smiles down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Yes, it is skipping along like a pair of little girl summer sandals over a broken crack within the flat concrete sidewalk but at a microscopic level which is below the naked eye. Show me both the static and moving air molecules by magnifying it by five hundred times?" Then each tiny red bump become a gigantic baseball-sized mound making the new wiggling images block the entire monitor screen.

Vassar frowns and whispers into his ear bug, "Sorry, Vester. The bio-cell app has reached the max-out payload between programming code and ram of the portal laptop. The computer can't process the request. You're looking at the field line, too close and personal. The electric field has magnified in the color of yellow, the positive charges on the left in the color of green. The negative charges in the center and an uncharged object will appear hot pink."

Elf looks down and points with a confused brow at the computer screen, whispering into each ear bug. "Why is the almost circle in the color of sky blue?"

The other FDA inspectors sidestep along the dirt wall and stand behind a back spine of Vassar, Vester, Tank, or Duke with a puzzled brow to see the computer screen in silence.

Vassar stares at the computer screen with a stern face and whispers into each ear bug. "The blue circle represents oxygen which is the most abundant gas within our cave dwelling. The mass number is sixteen with an atomic number of eight. There are eight electrons and eight protons. The number of neutrons is always equal to the mass number."

Vester stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "The wire is dancing with a set of air molecules. Protons and electrons live within the air atmosphere, but something does not."

Dove stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "The dance pattern is a completed circle."

"Naw," Vassar stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "There is a skipped air pocket somewhere, maybe as tiny as .0001 millimeters in width. We just have to locate it."

Peacock exhales with worry and stares down at the computer screen, whispering into each ear bug. "Another thing to locate..."

Vester stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Please reduce the computer image back down to one hundred times with field line magnification. Then drive FRONE along the roundness of the wire looking for any mechanic defect that might be molded into the metal wiring. That might account for the looping pattern, where we are seeing on the computer screen."

"What are you trying to solve, Vester?" Elf stares with a confused brow at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug.

Vester stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "There might be a dent, brace, or bump allowing the electricity to jump across like a deer leaping over a water stream. That would be our snap target with Peacock's scissors while hopefully avoiding 8000 volts of electrified shock," chuckling.

Elf stares down with a smile at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "So, Loyce does want Nadean to live."

Vester stares down with a smile at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Yes, Loyce is not dumb just dangerous and not deadly. If Nadean or OT becomes hurt or even accidentally killed, then Loyce will be an American fugitive on the run. Then Teague and Bobcat with their combined hunting experience and our combined hunting brains will locate, find, and kill his ass, anywhere in the world."

Bull stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Loyce wants the money, giving him escape time while OT panics the entire State of Alabama looking for the most valuable player's mama of championship game."

Moose stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "We charge in with the pair of scissors and cut Nadean out of the puppet wiring."

Vester stares down with a stern face at the computer screen and shakes his red colored buzz cut, whispering into each ear bug. "I don't like that idea. The wiring is rigged to sever a limb if the wrong amount of torque is applied to the right bone."

Moose looks up with a worried brow and views Nadean, whispering into each ear bug. "I don't like that concept, either."

Elf looks up and scans each dirt wall and the dirt ceiling with a worried brow, whispering into the ear bug. "We haven't discussed the possibility of floor bombs or ceiling tacks or wall traps."

Vassar turns and scans each dirt wall and the dirt ceiling with a stern face, whispering into the ear bug. "The computer accurately displays all type of man-made metal components within the cave-room. Everything else is densely packed Mother Nature's red dirt clay particles on a western wall, a northern wall, and an eastern wall, except for the four floor lamps, the four wires, and the single bed mattress." He looks down with a stern face at the computer screen and shifts the joy stick on top of the laptop. The side flap on the computer laptop opens. A small rounded tan colored object lifts up and halts in the air.

Elf stares at the tan colored pea-shaped devise which is named FRONE, whispering into each ear bug, "What are you doing, Vassar?"

FRONE slowly flies in forward motion through the air and above the dirt soil, going through the archway on the cave-room. It scans and travels towards the nearest wire while dumping mathematical percentages, letters, and numbers back into computer screen.

Vester leans down into the computer almost face-kissing the screen with a pair of lips and a pair of eyeballs, whispering into each ear bug. "I am seeking dead space."

Duckie stares at FRONE and the wire, shaking his skull in confusion of the intense scientific conversation between the twin brothers, whispering into each ear bug. "Dead air is used for sound like music in a radio."

Vester continues to lean down into the computer almost face-kissing the screen with a pair of lips and a pair of eyeballs, whispering into each ear bug. "And dead space is air inhaled through any open vessel that does not take part in the gas exchange, in physiology of a life form. I am seeking a piece of dead space on the metal wire, specifically any or all non-dancing air molecules on the wire."

Vassar continues to study the computer screen and shifts the joy stick on top of the laptop, moving FRONE up the wire, whispering into each ear bug. "When Nadean breathes, mixed gas must flow in both directions, inhaling and exhaling while increasing her lung respiratory of usable air for existence then release accumulated carbon dioxide in the form of air molecules. A deep slow breath of five hundred breaths per minute is more effective for releasing accumulated carbon dioxide rather than taking a quick shallow breath of two hundred fifty breathes per minute. Therefore, her shallow breathes have created dead space without a tea tiny amount of released carbon dioxide. Since Nadean is mentally upset, she is not releasing carbon dioxide, anymore. We must hurry and locate the dead space pinpoint, Vester."

Vester continues to lean down into the computer almost face-kissing the screen with a pair of lips and a pair of eyeballs, whispering into each ear bug. "Negative ions are around us, every day, Duckie. A charged air molecule carries an extra electron, conferring a net negative charge to the particle..."

"...that clings to the ass when you shit, Duckie," Elf smiles down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "And dead space is air inhaled through any open vessel like your mouth, your ears and your skin. An air purifier is a commercial product that generates negative ions to keep nosocomial infections from your hairy nostrils. In the Far East like inside the country of Japan, they have created numerous home appliances, using the concept of negative ion generators for a toothbrush, a refrigerator, an air condition unit, an air cleaner, and a washing machine."

Vester continued to lean down into the computer almost face-kissing the screen with a pair of lips and a pair of eyeballs, whispering into each ear bug. "In a set of clinical research studies performed and documented by Birmingham University, within a hospital setting, bacterium dust particles carry nasty microorganisms, causing them to settle onto any horizontal surface, especially a metal table and a chair. An electronic negative air ionization device like an air purifier reduces the air ionization of an aerosolized virus T1 bacteriophage by fifty-two percent, thus eliminating any additional body infections for a recovering patient. One negative air ionization neutrals one airborne micro-organism, therefore, one single solo dust particle carries many micro-organisms when the dust particle is attacked by one single solo negative air ion. Thus, the zero space creates a dead space."

Vassar fiddles on the computer keyboard and shifts the joy stick on top of the laptop, moving FRONE up the wire, whispering into each ear bug. "I have reconfigured the bio-cell app inside the computer and two of the mobile telephones." He presses a button. "Let's see the dead space on each one of the four wires inside our 3-D hologram model."

A lavender colored laser line shoots up from each mobile telephone on the opposite ends from the limestone rock, forming a perfect horizontal line straight between the two vertical parallel wires. The horizontal line connects on the right side to each wire on each ankle and wrist bone on Nadean. On the left side of Nadean, there is a second perfect horizontal line that connects both wires of the ankle and wrist in lavender color also.

Vester smiles at the 3-D hologram model and whispers into each ear bug, "I'll be Nadean's brother. That's the prettiest straight line from point A to point B that even a computer can't paint."

Vassar smiles at the 3-D hologram model and whispers into each ear bug, "Loyce has created one single solo negative air dust particle for each wire, Vester. It clinks onto the wiring in the exact same spot in lavender color on the 3-D image, happily bouncing between the real protons and neutrons of air. Do not bend the wire. It must be cut straight across or it will snap and sting a body part."

Elf gasps with a worried brow, staring at the 3-D computer image in the middle of the cave, whispering into each ear bug, "A mastermind evil mad scientist genius, who is this guy?"

Vester stares at the 3-D image and sneers into each ear bug, "Dead."

Bull looks beyond the 3-D image and view the interior cave-room, whispering into each ear bug, "What's the source of the electricity?"

Elf recognizes the object with a smile inside the cave-room, whispering into each ear bug, "A 12-volt battery energizer."

Vester exhales with a huff and whispers into each ear bug. "Loyce is a genius mad scientist."

Vassar types on the computer keyboard, splitting the screen, whispering the new information into each ear bug. "This particular model is very versatile, Vester. It draws 4.5 watts per hour which lasts for approximately fifty days on a clean or a weedy fence post line. It will power one mile of three strand cattle fence, one-half mile of five strand sheep fence, six of 164 feet goat nets, and three of 164 feet chick nets, ensuring enough volts on the fence line keeping animals in and predators out..."

"Useful datum, Vassar," Vester stares down into the computer screen and sneers into each ear bug.

Vassar reads out loud from the computer and whispers into each ear bug. "The battery stores seven joules of shock, four joules in moist soil, or two joules in dry soils."

Tank reaches down from the make-shift table surface and touches the semi-wet red clay with a grin and whispers into each bug ear, "We are moist in here, dearest." He sits upright on both kneecaps with a chuckle, wiping off his hands.

Duke tosses both arms into the air and whispers into each ear bug, "Yeehaw, I love getting shocked and then knocked down to my kneecaps. Are you going to fuck me from behind after that social encounter, darling?"

Vassar smiles down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Hell, naw! And it requires one foot of ground rod."

Tank looks up with a worried brow and view the set of real wires on Nadean, whispering into each ear bug. "Man, that hanging wire is a live rattlesnake with fangs and claws."

Duke turns and smiles at the nose profile on Vester, whispering into each ear bug. "Do you think it might kick you in the guts when it is cut off?"

"Naw," Vester turns and winks to Duke, whispering into each ear bug. "But, it'll make you piss inside your pink panties, when touched, darling."

"My girly panty throngs for all fun sex parties are fire engine red, big boy." Tank turns and winks at Vester, whispering into each ear bug.

Moose points at the floating FRONE with a smile, whispering into each ear bug. "It is a battery with a shut-off button. Use your metal boy FRONE to sting and kill the single power source. Then we can invade the cave-room and rescue Nadean from death."

Vester looks up with a smile to see FRONE inside the cave-room. FRONE is still scanning the wire that was attached to Nadean. He whispers into the ear bug. "That is an excellent suggestion, Moose. Except, FRONE has no weapons, not even a baby sword. We will need to upgrade FRONE upon returning home, Vassar. And secondly, the power source is buried between two sliced rock beds for security and safety. If the hanging wire shifts too often, Nadean will be without a limb. I can promise that event for all eyeballs."

Vassar frowns down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Loyce is indeed a brilliant villain. Based on the new metric configuration, if you cut the nylon on the left wrist, the body jerks almost at super speed to the left, breaking her right bone at the wrist, maybe ripping the arm socket from the joint."

Vester frowns down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Agreed."

Vassar continues to frown down at the computer screen and whispers into each ear bug. "Based on visual presentation, the length and taunt-ness of the angle holding her joint bones are precisely the same distance. We have to cut all four angles at the exact same time or the last one will definitely rip a socket from the bone marrow."

Elf lifts a palm with a smile and whispers into ear bug. "I can help here."

Duckie tosses both arms into the air with a smile, standing behind Tank, whispering into each ear bug, "Me, too."

Vester looks up with a worried brow to see Nadean, shaking a red colored buzz-cut, whispering into each ear bug. "I'm her brother and will always be a whisper away for Nadean. I suggest that four men of equal strength, not necessary physical statue with four sharp axes cut the nylon precisely together, releasing Nadean from harm's way."

Vassar looks up from the computer screen and turns with a stern face to see the nose profile of Vester, whispering into the ear bug. "If OT does toss the Game or not, I strongly suspect that Loyce will release Nadean and then kill both of them, together. He will hide the physical evidence inside another locale. He would not desire any loose ends, especially inside the belly of the famous national championship game stadium. Therefore, my theory is sound and proven coming to the conclusion of the free safety of the floor and walls. We should proceed, immediately."

Vester turns and smiles at Vassar, whispering into each ear bug, "Agree, twice. What did you notice about the hired help?"

Vassar grins and whispers into each ear bug. "All blonde and dumb, same height, weight, body mass, and arm strength."

Vester nods and whispers into each ear bug. "Four dumb asses to cut the wire at the same time, in the same exact spot."

Duke turns and smiles at the nose profile on Tank, whispering into each ear bug. "So, we just need four dumb asses."

"Naw," Tank turns and grins at Duke, whispering into the ear bug. "We need four men with same height, weight, and arm strength."

Vassar smiles and whispers into ear bug, "The Quartet."

Vester softly chuckles into the ear bug, "Ah, naw! The four Garland boys!"

Duke blows a hand kiss to his Vassar and whispers into each ear bug, "Yeah, baby! Kiss me, too."

Vester exhales with worry and returns back to see each wire whispering into each ear bug. "The wires must be clipped at the same spot and all at the same time or Nadean will lose a foot or a hand."

"Agreed," Vassar returns back with a worried brow to see the wires inside the cave-room, whispering into each ear bug.

Tank returns back and narrows his eyelids at each wire, whispering into each ear bug. "So, we cut the wiring at the precise point of dead space. Why did Loyce make it so complicated?"

Duke return back and laughs, viewing each wire, whispering into each ear bug. "There's not a ground rod for the wiring, hot foot, baby."

Vester exhales with worry and stares at each wire, whispering into each ear bug. "That's why he made it so creativity to scare us into thinking that there is not a way to remove Nadean from her four puppet strings, without his assistance or his money. He wasn't certain that Bam U will win the championship game. This is his default plan while being out of the USA. Telecommunicates is remarkable and remarking efficient away from home."

Elf stands upright from the dirt soil with a worried brow and waves both hands in the air, whispering into each ear bug. "Hang on here! Safety comes first."

Vassar spins around and winks with a grin at Elf, whispering into the ear bug. "You sound like my man Gage from the Quartet."

Elf moves ahead and whispers into each ear bug. "Each one of you needs a set of eye protection and a body of armor gear, preventing any serious lacerations, Vassar."

Vester stares at Nadean with a worried brow, whispering into each ear bug. "One, there is no more time, Elf. Two, the limp wiring will momentarily hang in space and then swiftly glide back toward the dirt wall, stick there for eons. Three, the dead space pocket will not shock us. Loyce has thoroughly ensured our safety by creating somehow a single solo negative ion even among a flowing river of 8,000 volts of electricity that operates on a meek twelve-volt battery energizer. Four, there is not an assassin waiting in the wings to murder OT. Loyce wants everyone to panic while he gets away. The man is truly a mad scientist genius." He looks down and types on the computer keyboard, shifting the 3-D image, overlaying the electronic colorful lines on top of the real naked mattress, the real Nadean, and the real wires. The lavender horizontal line pinpoints the four exactly dead space spots, where four hands will be needed to cut four separate dead spots, all at the same time. Vester stands upright from the dirt soil and stretches out each one of his numb limbs while staring at Nadean with a worried heart.

Vassar stands upright from the dirt with a stern face and stares at 3-D image and the thin lavender colored line, whispering into each bug ear. "We can't enter a moving body through the archway between each concrete column. Our air motion will disturb the molecules around Nadean's ankles. The wires will slice off her foot."

Vester stares at Nadean with a smile, whispering into each ear bug. "Not agreed, Vassar. Loyce used the same space of air to escape or move out of the room shell without disturbing the air molecules. Or Nadean won't still be alive with all her body parts."

Vassar spins around and grabs the arm on Elf, shoving the short man down onto the dirt and in front of the computer laptop. He drops down on one knee, patting the computer, whispering into the ear bug. "Elf, I would like for you to monitor the air molecules on the computer. Sit here. Right now, the molecules are happy, dancing around in the colors of blue and green. When an object cuts into their dance pattern, the blue and green will separate. We, four are going to enter the rat cave, locating the dead space. I do not know what is going to happen in there, Elf." He stands upright with a grin, side stepping along the wall, spinning around to see a row of inspectors and winks at Dove. "Ya'll stay sharp." He spins around and moves ahead, standing a few feet from the entrance on the cave-room, staring at the 3-D image. He concentrates on the lavender line that is the dead space point between the ankle and wrist bones on Nadean that will release the two wires and save the limbs and the life of his sister Nadean.

Each one of the other FDA inspectors sidesteps along the dirt wall and then turn, dashing ahead to the row of rescue backpacks and containers, removing all the emergency gear for use. They stand in place and spin around, staring at the quartet of Vester, Vassar, Tank, and Duke.

Vester sidesteps along the wall, clears the messy command center, and then stops, moving ahead toward the entrance of the cave-room with a stern face, whispering into the bug ear. "Vassar and I will crawl with fingers and toes like a common garden snake along the dirt clay on our belly without disturbing more of the protons air molecules that are attacking Nadean. Tank and Duke stand outside the archway until we are in a crouched pose near each wrist bone of Nadean. Then I will stand first upright and move toward the right wrist bone wire. Then Vassar will stand second upright, moving to the left wrist bone. Tank will move third to the left ankle bone. Duke will move last to the right ankle bone. We pose for the one single solo snap with each pair of sharp cutting implements, all at the same time. The minimum lax movement will tickle then relax the air molecules, without changing the position of the dead space negative ion." He stops and stands a few feet from the brightly lit entrance way into the cave-room, staring at the lavender electronic glowing line, where the dead spot must be cut to save the limb and the life of Nadean.

Duke stand upright from the dirt and sidesteps along the wall, staring at each wire, leaving the Command Center. He moves ahead and stands beside Vester in silence.

Tank stands upright from the dirt soil and sidesteps along the wall, staring at each wire with a worried brow, moving away from the Command Center. He whispers into each ear bug. "Our body motion might create vibration producing more sound waves. The sound waves will shift the wires, cutting and slicing off one or all of Nadean's bones." He stops and stands beside Duke.

Vester reaches out and shoves Duke toward the opposite column on the left side of Nadean with a stern face, whispering into ear bug. "The dirt will disguise both movement and vibration, being soft and noiseless. Sound only reacts to vibration."

Duke turns and winks to Vassar, whispering into the ear bug. "I wished I was an earthworm."

Vester stares at Nadean with worried brow and whispers into the ear bug. "I wished I was a god."

Moose moves from the dirt wall and stops. He hands a set of four cutting instruments to each computer geek consisting of a pair of sewing scissors for Vassar; a pair of pliers to Tank, a second hunting knife for Duke, and a pair of garden shears for Vester.

Each geek will cut the single wire sideways, at same time, along with the three others.

He gently slaps the collar bone on Vester with a smile, whispering into the ear bug. "Get moving. "Go, guys. Ya'll are making me sweat bullets and piss pee with nervousness." He back steps from the row of computer geeks, staring at each back spine and then the glowing 3-D image with the pretty colors with a worried brow and a worried heart. He stops and stands beside messy Command Center, without blocking an eyeball view from the other inspectors.

Vester stares at the lavender line and sneers into the ear bug. "Good thing, Nadean has chosen to save her life, because I'm the one that bleeds Loyce in the upcoming dog fight."

Vassar stares at each wire and Nadean with a worried brow and a worried heart. "I would advise here for each FDA inspector to remove your ear bug. For me, I yell and curse, when I encounter biting ass pain."

Each inspector obeys and drops the tiny devise down into the dirt, moving ahead, standing around Elf. Elf kneels on the dirt and stares at the computer screen with a worried brow, looking up to see a back spine on Vester, Vassar, Tank and Duke.

Vester and Vassar, both drop down and crawl forward on a belly button over the soft dirt, wiggling side to side until each one crawls underneath the wire and then slowly stands upright inside the cave-room.

Tank and Duke drop down and belly crawl over the dirt and underneath each wires that holds the ankle bone on Nadean. Each one stops and stands upright inside the cave-room, posing a weapon at the lavender painted spot of dead space on the real wire with a stern face.

Vester stands at the right hand wrist bone on Nadean, holding a pair of garden weed shears with both hands in front of the lavender dead spot of the 3-D image that is painted onto the real wire, whispering into each ear bug. "We snap the pretty colored lavender spot on the number three. One, two, three..."

Vester cuts the dead space on the jewelry wire that is connected at the left hand wrist bone on Nadean, hearing a series of numerous sharp pings.

Nadean listens with her eardrums and watches the dirt ceiling with a pair of closed eyelashes while holding her breath with pain and fright, feeling the swift release of each wire from each bone. The wire swiftly jerks away from her bone and recoils back through air space towards the dirt wall.

Vester jerks back his face and his upper torso away from an upward retreating metal wire as the wire retreats back into the dirt wall. The lower portion of the whipping long wire slams and slices into his upper leg and as his eyeballs stare down with worry at Nadean. She lifts up all four limbs from the mattress into the air and then swiftly drops them back down onto the naked and soft mattress in fear and exhaustion. Vester tenses in pain from numerous wire slaps over the body, growling into the ear bug. "Son of fucking bitch! And I thought my mama was a nasty ass cunt." His face turns and swings to the left side inside the cave-room.

Vassar receives a head slap from the left sided jewelry wire and drops down, falling down over the dirt soil, disappearing behind the naked bed mattress, grabbing his in pain and curses. He feels the heated blood pouring from his eyeball.

Vester leans into the bed mattress and scoops up the weak Nadean, feeling a stinging pain of sliced outer epidermis on his right thigh. The thin wire has deeply sliced an angle into his femoral artery, feeling hot boiling liquid that is wetting inside his blue jeans.

The major artery of the right leg floods a stream of precious blood all the way down into his set of five toes then the same veins rushes the blood back up into his pumping heart. The spinal nerves are sending signals into his brain, indicating intense pain, sudden coldness, and growing numbness of his right leg.

The legs are fed by a set of femoral arteries that carry three-fourths of the entire eight pints of blood to each two leg muscles which leaves one-fourth of the entire eight pints of blood for his two arms and a torso.

A human can lose two pints of blood per minute through a severed artery. At fifty percent blood loss, his biological life form will pass out into dark consciousness, blooding out three pints of his blood from his severed femoral. In three short minutes, Vester will bleed to death and die.

He softly curses his active genius mind with too much academic knowledge.

Vester weakly stands upright from the bed frame and cuddles Nadean inside the tiny soft blanket like a baby into his chest, slowly waddling forward on a set of ten numb toe bones, moving out from the cave-room. He passes upright through a pretend door archway within a pretend bedroom setting and pushes his weak upright body into the outer corridor of the cave, feeling a fresh cool breeze on his sweaty face.

Each FDA inspector shuffles sideways from the dirt wall, grabbing the set of emergency supplies from each backpack, running around the cave to an injured computer geek.

At the wall, female FDA inspector code named Dove lifts her mobile telephone into a face and dials the 911 emergency telephone number, personally talking to the dispatcher, explaining the situation with a worried brow.

Inside the cave interior, Vester drops down and fall forward, landing on both of his kneecaps over the soft dirt soil, folding his torso over the upper body on Nadean. He whispers with weakness and worry into each ear bug. "Vassar!"

"Present!" Vassar rolls side to side on top of the dirt and holds both hands into his bloody face from the vicious slap from the thin wire, whispering back into each ear bug.

Vester whispers with worry and panic into each ear bug, "Tank!"

Tank is curled into a ball of pain on top of the dirt soil inside the cave-room, whispering with soft sneer into each ear bug. "Fuck! It hurts, mama."

Vester whispers with worry into each ear bug, "Duke!"

Duke whispers and pants between the rough growls of pain into each ear bug. "I kill Loyce first. I kill Loyce first..."

Vester leans over and smiles down at his sister, "Nadean!"

I blink my eyelashes open, feeling pain and happiness, displaying a slow grin and a soft whisper to see his smile, "Vester, thank you for saving me."

Vester smiles. "You're very welcome, Sis."

I whisper with worry with a blank face, "OT!"

Vester smiles. "OT's safe. I promise."

I closed my eyelashes, feeling weak and safe. "Thank you, again. I love you, Vester. Let's have a family picnic at the oak tree on your mountain peak when the football game ends."

Vester smiles down into her placid face, "Anything you want, Sis." He closes his eyelids with a silly grin, slowly falling over Nadean from his own weakness and pain, drifting down into a deep slumber inside the cool breeze in an underground cave.

"The paramedics are coming. The paramedics are coming. They're close and inside the game stadium. They will be in here in ten minutes or less." Dove shuffles sideways from the dirt wall and clears the Command Center, dashing back to the pile of emergency gear, grabbing a couple of blankets and a bag of bandages. She stands upright and spins around, racing ahead with a yell and a worried brow. "How's Nadean? What is her medical condition? Is she alive?"

Peacock races forward with two blankets and a bag of bandages from her emergency pile of supplies, slipping down, falling into the moist dirt soil. She leans over Nadean and touches one of her cut and blood stained limbs with a worried brow. "She looks really pale. She has blood around her limbs but I am bandaging them now. She will find." She whips out her mobile telephone and snaps a digit picture of Nadean and then transmits it.

Elf moves ahead with a worried brow with a yell, staring at each fallen body. "What about the medical condition of the four Garland boys?"

Bull dashes ahead with the blankets and a bag of bandages, shaking a skull with a worried brow. "The wire sliced down into the meat of their bodies, lots of bleeding and blood. They need doctors. Where's the damn ambulance?" He enters the cave-room.

He stops and squats down over the body with a worried brow. "Jeezus! She's bleeding." Elf rips off the red stained blanket down from the kneecaps on Nadean, searching with his eyelids for the skin wound.

Peacock reaches over and gingerly touches the face on Vester, lifting up to see her blood stained hand in the air with a worried brow. "She is not the one that's bleeding, Elf."

Dove dashes into the cave-room and stops, squatting down, covering two blankets over an unconscious and bleeding Vassar. He is curled on top of the dirt soil inside the cave-room with quiet stillness. She pats his shoulder with worry. "The 26-gauge jewelry wire recoiled like a gun shot back toward the dirt wall. The slender bands of wire sliced into Vester, Vassar, and their mates like an individual soft marshmallow, ripping at each human limb like a horse whip."

Inside the cave-room, Bull stops and squats, staring down with a sad face at the bleeding and unconscious Duke, covering him with two blankets. "Recoil is a movement ass-backwards from one solo single impact. When Duke clipped the wire, he caused momentum, slapping that wiring like a rattlesnake over his tallness." He stands upright and totes more blankets, scooting around the mattress and stops, squatting and placed the two blankets over the unconscious and blooding body of Tank with a worried brow. "A high compression terrain motor vehicle uses a stock recoil rope which is rated at 5,000 pounds of torque with a diameter of three/sixteenth of an inch. And that jewelry wire was less than one-sixteenth of an inch in diameter. Damn! These four boys didn't have a fucking chance in hell here to survive this brilliant and sick entrapment. But they did not anyways and saved Nadean. They are true heroes."

Elf continues to squat and stares with a smile at Nadean. "She does have a chance to survive this sick and brilliant entrapment." Nadean is peacefully sleeping with a set of closed eyelashes on top of dirt. Her unconscious brother, Vester is tenderly holding her torso with a pair of two loving arms and a set of cupped hands, while his red blood proteins spill over her white colored blanket.

Dove stands upright from the unconscious and bloody body of Vassar, turning to stare at each injured person, wiping away the tears of sadness with a worried heart. "I hope that Teague finds the sharpshooter or OT doesn't survive the football."

05:09 p.m.

Birmingham Vulcan Stadium

13th floor skybox suites

Warm temperatures without sunshine inside the building

The skybox metal door opens.

"Fuck!" Teague moves out from the last executive suite of the rental skyboxes on the top level, stomping into the hallway and stops, standing in place. He head-bumps into a sour puss into Bobcat and wears a confused brow and a sissy whine. "No sharpshooter. No gun. No Loyce. Have we been duped? Is this a ploy for us to leave Duchess unprotected inside the underground cavern?" He looks down with a sour frown and double-checks his mobile telephone for a new text, seeing nothing and typed a text to the FBI team for an update status of the search Duff Loyce.

Bobcat looks down with a stern face at the colored digital picture on his mobile telephone that has come from Peacock inside the underground cavern. He silently reads the text from Elf who stays with Peacock inside the underground cavern too, exhaling with sorrow. He swiftly pockets his mixed emotions into his rolling guts and then quickly scrolls over the other new texts from each FDA team member with an angry face. "Yes, a dupe for a couple of dopes," he looks up with a stern face and a serious tone to see Teague. "But, we ain't dopes or dopers, Tomcat. There isn't a sharpshooter or a gun for an assassination attempt right here inside the stadium with a cold barrel shotgun on OT. It's a lie," he spins around and stares with a worried brow at the cheering crowd of spectators inside the stadium bleachers that are displaying on the large television screen on the side wall. "And Loyce isn't inside the bleachers either. There are too many folks from his home town, his home street, and his work bank office here who could and would and will ID his ass for police purposes."

"So, where he is, Bobcat?" Teague looks up with a confused brow to see the nose profile on Bobcat.

Bobcat turns and frowns at Teague. "The last damn place that a couple of dopes wouldn't ever think to look," he spins around and stares at the new building which is hundred feet across the stadium structure. "The new and tall Vulcan Tower, where we left that building structure about thirty minutes ago, he is inside one of the luxury rental suites eating, drinking, and partying, while we sweat and worry in an overheated car tire while searching for a fake person."

Teague shakes his curls with a worried brow. "But he specifically told Duchess in her face and OT on his cell phone call, giving out the same damn information from his cell phone. There is a sharpshooter trained on OT during the game, if OT doesn't play along losing the game for Burn U."

Bobcat looks down with a stern face and views the concrete, returning back to see Teague. "And we've scouted and interviewed every man and woman, who has been hiding within the shadows or holding a flag or dressing like the mascot. No sharpshooter. No gun. No Loyce. There is fifteen seconds on the score clock left within the championship game. Clearly Burn U is going to win the championship trophy, unless Bam U scores a final touchdown. And clearly Loyce is fidgeting and prepping for his timely escape, not realizing Nadean's brothers had...have hope of getting Nadean out alive from the cave-room."

Teague looks down with a worried brow and a worried heart at his mobile telephone, typing through the old texts. "I haven't heard from Elf."

Bobcat grits the teeth with a stern face and stares at the silver tinted hair roots on fifty-two-year old Teague. "Tomcat, our job is to find Loyce. Let the other team do their work." He reaches out and grabs the arm on Teague, spinning around, dragging both of them towards the one of the three shiny closed elevator doors. "These elevators shoot us straight across the sunny skyline and stop inside the main lobby on the penthouse suite level, since this is the only entrance and exit point, coming and going from many rental luxury suites for any VIP person with a set of armed bodyguards that leads down into the private garage space. I have texted Bull and his team to come up here and catch and grab Loyce, if we don't kill the bastard first while he is running away from my cold barrel."

"I wanna kill him." Teague pulls beside Bobcat and leans over with a sneer and a sour frown into the cheekbone on Bobcat.

Bobcat sneers back into the cheekbone on Teague, reaching forward, slamming the elevator button. He stops with Teague and stands in front the closed elevators doors, wearing a sour frown, staring the shiny silver tinted steel. "Right now, I don't give a shit who kills the bastard. I just want Loyce dead and then his soul descended down into hell for a permanent visitation with Satan."

The elevator doors open.

They enter and spin around to face the wall with the television screen, where Burn U is winning a very close football championship game by six points.

Bobcat reaches over and slams the button for the penthouse floor, standing upright with a sneer, pulling out his hand gun with a soft growl.

The television announcer without a face yells out loud from the mounted television plasma on the side brick wall showing the two lines of football players on top of the green colored field. "There is eighteen seconds left on the score clock. Bam U has the football on its own thirty-five yard-line. This game is not over with, folks. So, stay put inside your chair and your eyeballs glued to the plasma, since a touchdown of six points could win the national championship game for..."

The elevator door closes shut. The carriage swiftly flies sideways towards the Vulcan Tower building.

05:10 p.m.

Penthouse lobby setting

13th floor level

The carriage stops. Then the single elevator door slides open.

Teague and Bobcat stand with boot toes apart and in a crouch pose aiming a hand gun at the lobby wall. No single human stands center stage of their two hand guns.

Bobcat moves ahead and exits first from the carriage, dropping the gun barrel down toward the nicely tan and gold tinted marble flooring. Teague follows behind and drops his gun, pulling up beside Bobcat.

The elevator door closes shut.

Bobcat advances ahead and stops, standing in front of a matching tan and gold tinted marble reception desk, seeing a scary female clerk. He reaches over and steals two Burn U baseball caps. He slides one of the baseball caps to Teague for a proper disguise to surprise Loyce.

Teague stops and stands beside Eckward with a cold barrel pointing down at the floor, sliding on the baseball cap with a stern face.

The female clerk back steps and hold both of her palms in the air, wearing a baseball cap over a black ponytail. You cannot see her face from the nose up.

Bobcat leans over the counter with a smile and a nod to young female. "We are FDA inspectors with guns. We are seeking an oversized fat white colored male, who is named Duff Loyce. He has..."

"...messy curly black and gray hair, ghostly pale white, over six feet tall," the clerk nods with a sour frown, dropping down both of her hands, slapping her blue jeans with a puff of annoyance. "Yeah, I know that dude. He tried to steal three caps, four shirts, and one keychain thinking the merchandise is free like the beer. I finally had to interrupt my boss during the game to calmly express that we are a private busy, working inside the building for profit of money. Mr. Loyce recorded our names and our titles, claiming that he was going to report us to the building management. Geez! This dude is a dumb ass. And he tried to explain that he was leaving the country for medical treatment, wanting the Burn U gear for free, too. That didn't work, either."

Bobcat smiles. "And what suite would unhappy Mr. Loyce be located inside as he cheers for Burn U team, darling? And I promise to pay for the merchandise when I have finished my ugly task."

The clerk waves a hand and a smile to Bobcat and Teague. "Both the baseball caps are free and yours for removing Mr. Loyce from our building, honey. He is located inside one of the furthest and cheapest luxury suite on your left side. Go around the wall corner and then straight down at the end of the hallway. Since, nobody is moving from their chair until the end of the game. Do I need to call the cops, sir?"

Bobcat nods with a smile to the female, "Yes, darling, please dial 911. Tell them that law enforcement special agents need assistance and are apprehending a very dangerous fugitive. And we additional need help removing all the upset football spectators."

She frowns with worry. "Do I need to leave, sir?"

Bobcat slips the baseball cap over his blackish gray hair with a stern face to the female. "No, but I would move into the back room and finish watching the game, staying out of the way of the horde of violent physical commotion."

She nods with a worried brow, "Right! Will do. Thanks for protecting us," she back steps from the merchandise and the cash register, swinging around, moving into a darken hallway out of dangerous with the other merchandise employees.

The door closes shut.

Bobcat spin around and moves away from the reception counter, strutting down an empty hallway. Every face is watching the live football game inside one of the numerous luxury suites. He advances down towards the end hallway which made of glass windows and an array of spaced sitting chairs to sit and watch the mounted television plasmas on the wall also. He turns and views through the window an outline of the Old Gray Man in the shape of a sideways rubber black tinted car tire, snorting with amusement at the silly design.

Teague follows ahead and pulls up beside his buddy Bobcat with a smile and a chuckle, killing the villain of the fairy tale, since he knows in his heart that the pretty princess has been saved by her two godmothers.

They march with a cold barrel down towards the floor and wear a Burn U baseball cap that covers half-a-face, in case Loyce recognizes one of them from the bank interview yesterday.

Teague and Bobcat both had met and interviewed Loyce, when it had been discovered that Nadean was lying about her past and present telling that she had lived in Mobile, instead of Birmingham.

At 05:12 p.m., inside the rental luxury suite, on the side wall, Loyce paces back and forth with panic in front of a gigantic one hundred inches wide colored television plasma, shouting with a string of soft curses. The football Bam U is leading and it close to winning the National University Football Championship game. Loyce halts in front of the side wall and narrows his eyelids, staring into the television at OT Sims.

OT Sims has played an exceptional game, like normal. He does not seem to become concerned that his mom Nadean has been kidnapped and captured by a stranger, who is named Duff Loyce.

Duff had contacted and spoken directly OT, tattling that he would threaten to kill his mom, if OT did not blow the championship game.

The field play moves in motion on the television. OT continues to harass the ass on the Bam U quarterback, seeking another quarterback sack, like normal.

Loyce shakes a balding skull with tiny bits of blackish gray hair, huffing and puffing with worry. If Burn U wins the game, like it has been predicted, then Loyce will lose the three million dollars that he has placed at one of the numerous legitimate Las Vegas gambling computer sites. Las Vegas will win and keep his stolen three million dollars. Loyce will win zero dollars and zero cents.

He has already paid for a one-way getaway trip including the one-way airfare ticket and a rental hotel room for one night inside the Canary Island of Caribbean. And he has pre-recorded a time voice message to his stupid ass supervisor at the Third National Bank of Florida which is located here in Birmingham: To fuck off. The pre-recorded message states: Loyce is quitting his stupid boring dull ass job and to shove a finger up his ass and fuck his dick which ends in heavy laughter.

Now, Loyce will lose both the gambling bet of three million dollars and his good paying job that offers seventy thousand dollars-per-year without a new job or an income for survival.

Loyce has broken the yearly lease on his current apartment too giving away all his furniture pieces to a charity business for fun. He even has donated his personal sedan to the same charity foundation, since he could be tracked back with the death of Nadean Garland. Thus, he will drove away inside a taxi car from Old Gray Man.

The taxi service is provided free of charge by the city of Birmingham, since each Burn U fan drinks too many beer mugs and each Bam U fan is a crazy driver. Loyce will walk out from the Vulcan Tower building and step into an old rusty taxi cab, heading to the Birmingham airport, where he will board a plane to Las Vegas and collect nine million dollars from his football gambling winnings.

Now, his future dream is a puff of black smoke, drifting up into the white clouds. Loyce does not even smoke a pack of nasty cigarettes either as a natural born sophisticated South Florida native, instead of an illiterate redneck hillbilly.

On the television screen, a loud whistle blows and ends the active play. The football has been placed on the forty yard-line inside the territory of Burn U from an awesome forward pass by the Bam U quarterback.

Loyce leans down with a pair of sweaty palms and his nose bridge, sweating onto the soft plasma screen, softly cursing OT Sims, cheering the Bam U quarterback. He kindly asks Almighty God for a praying miracle to win a nine-million-dollar gift and then he can retire from the scum bag of civilization with the USA.

The luxury door slides open.

Bobcat enters the suite first and stops at the end of the second sofa, turning to views the ass on Duff Loyce with a soft growl.

Loyce continues to lean down into the plasma television with a soft growl and acting as a bad host, not greeting the new guest. The volume from the television roars with soft grunts from each active football player and then a loud whistle from each referee as both university football teams continue to fight and play for the championship game with fifteen seconds left on the score clock

The interior room is an extremely large living room setting that can hold fifty people easily.

Loyce has rented it for his person only.

The side wall with the low-sitting plasma television parallels the entrance wall that holds a single archway and three individual food tables. Each food table displays a set of stacked assortment of dirty, empty plates with eaten food entrees and used upright beer bottles that have been consumed by tall and plump Duff Loyce. The food had been provided for free when renting one of the luxury suites inside the new Vulcan Tower while watching any sporting event on the plasma television.

From the open archway, Teague follows behind Bobcat with a stern face and then stops, standing at the beginning of the first sofa, turning to face the ass on Duff Loyce with a soft sneer.

They stand at each sofa end and toss down the borrowed Burn U baseball cap, seeing the back spine on Duff Loyce and the gigantic television screen that continues to display the final ten seconds of the national university championship football game. Burn U is leading the game by two mathematical points.

However, in the war of competition, the winner needs one extra mathematical number which is higher than the opposing opponent to win it all.

Bobcat smiles at the back spine on Loyce while aiming his gun barrel at the rear skull on Duff. Teague lifts up and aims his hand gun at the back spine on Loyce with a smile, since he desires the kill shot to avenge the mistreatment of his girl Duchess.

His pair of eyeballs catch down at a gleam of silver on top of the sofa seat and as Bobcat reaches down, grabbing the remote control device that controls the gigantic television screen. He quickly thinks about cutting off the power to the television, so Loyce will not ever know the final outcome of the championship game but that would be crude and cruel move from a southern gentleman.

However, Loyce is not a southern gentle man. Duff has been lounging and eating inside an air-conditioned and comfortable room environment on top of soft sofa watching the football the entire time while Bobcat and his friends have sweating and worrying about Nadean, who rests inside a damp and cold underground cavern that is below this building.

Bobcat aims his gun and the remote control device at the ass on Loyce, pressing the button. The volume lowers down on the television equipment. He laughs out loud with a grin at the ass of Loyce, tucking the device down into his belt for safekeeping. "OT Sims has won the National University Championship Football game for Burn U for the fifth time, Mr. Loyce."

Teague continues to point the gun at Loyce with a grin, "I am so sorry, Mr. Loyce. You will lose everything including the nine-million-dollar prize money from the Las Vegas gambling computer site for the today and the rest of our life, slick dick."

Loyce lifts up a sweaty brow from the plasma screen and spins around with a gasp, without raising both his palms, saying with a smirk to Bobcat and Teague. "She is dead if ya'll two redneck hillbillies don't take me immediately to Dr. Nadean Garland."

Bobcat shakes his skull with a smile. "You are wrong. Nadean is alive." He reaches down and lifts up, wiggling one of the inventions from the brilliant Garland twins near his grin, tossing the object to Duff.

Loyce continues to stand in front of the television screen and opens both of his palms, capturing the object, looking down with a gasp down at the tiny screen.

Bobcat jabs a finger and a chuckle at the object. "A colored digital picture of Nadean and one of her newest and non-lovely scars which shows a burnt right wrist bone. Her four limbs ain't trapped between the four wires anymore, Loyce. Clearly, that little television screen on the wrist watch devise shows proof of her successful escape and rescue from her underground coffin by you."

Loyce scoots sideways against the warmth televisions screen with a nod and a grin, tossing the wrist watch mobile telephone back to Bobcat. The toss of the object is lousy and lands down in front of the sofa. He stares at Bobcat and then Teague, "That is an impossible storyline. Dr. Nadean Garland is dead. I promise you, sir. The wiring configuration will systemically slice into each ankle and wrist bone both neatly and cleanly."

Teague wiggles side to side with laugher and slightly lowers his gun with a smile. "Yeah, we all read your demon tail storybook, too. But Nadean's two fairy godmothers saved her pretty ass. But I can't say the same for your ugly ass, Loyce." He frowns and aims his hand gun in the air, pressing the button. The magazine clip drops down into his open palm. Teague looks down with a smile and double-checks the ammunition. Full. He slaps the magazine back into the empty chamber on the gun, smiling with a chuckle, lifting both of his arms in front of his chest. He aims the cold barrel on his hand gun at the chest cavity of Duff again.

Loyce stops and stands at the edge on the television screen, saying with a worried brow and a firm timber. "I don't believe your fairy tale, Mr. Haywood. I demand to see Dr. Nadean Garland now, immediately, because she is dead and not alive."

Bobcat slowly scoots sideways along the back rest on the first sofa and stops, tracking Loyce with a grin and a chuckle. "Nadean didn't move, didn't talk, and didn't breathe, but exhaled a series of long puffs of deep air molecules during her quiet catnap. Her twin brothers are the boys of Orion and Orion Industries."

Loyce gasps in shock, "They are the Orion geniuses."

Bobcat nods with a grin and a chuckle. "Her two genius brothers, who solved your sick puzzle and saved the life of their precious biological blood-kin sister. But, now, there ain't a person around who will solve your sick mind or save your sorry ass, Mr. Loyce."

Teague slowly scoots in front of the closed door with a stern face and stops while aiming his personal favored semi-automatic hand pistol at the fat chest cavity on Duff Loyce. The seventeen rounds of 9mm ammo hollow points will nicely expand the fat flesh and thick bone on Loyce onto each wall, the ceiling, the floor, and maybe all the way to Teague. He smiles with a grunt. "Stop wiggling, Loyce! The correct shot placement is an important factor in a kill."

Bobcat slowly scoots sideways and stops, standing at the edge of the front sofa, lifting and waving a hand and a chuckle at Duff. "Keep scooting over to the long mathematical side of your cheap ass rented luxury suite, Mr. Loyce. Tomcat only has seventeen rounds of 9mm inside his personal hand gun for a vicious killing. Geez! You should have brought another magazine, Tomcat."

Loyce scoots around and slams his leg into the next food table as the table wobbles back and forth with the empty platters. He says with a worried brow and a sissy whine. "I want to be arrested."

Teague slowly scoots along the entrance wall and stops, aiming the gun at the chest cavity on Loyce, saying with a smile. "Shuffle your feet, keeping your body axis from the feet."

Loyce slowly scoots in front of the first food table with a worried brow and a sissy whine. "I want to confess."

Bobcat slowly scoots around and stop, standing in front of the closed door, saying with a smile and a nod to Loyce. "The velocity needed for a 9mm caliber to perforate the outer skin is seventy-four feet-per-second. From twenty feet, Tomcat will create a perfect circular laceration in the heart value. Do you possess a healthy heart, Loyce?"

Loyce stand in front of the first food table with a worried brow and sissy whine. "I want a police officer."

Teague continues to slide sideways and aim the gun at the chest cavity on Loyce with a smile. "Face your entire body away from the target."

Bobcat laughs at Loyce. "Wait, Tomcat! Let Loyce move and stand inside the wall corner that is the maximum length inside the cheap ass luxury seat for killing an evil person without tiny bits of his pretty red colored blood landing in my face. I once read an article that a guy got shot in the chest with a twelve-gauge shotgun at four feet and then lived for two hours and twenty-two minutes, which is un-fuckingly believable. Loyce might live for a couple of days with his body mass of fattest in the universe."

Teague continues to slide sideways and aim the gun with a smile. "Your knees are slightly flexed."

Bobcat smiles at Loyce. "The heart is located in the center of the chest with a slight tilt to the left, Tomcat."

Loyce slowly scoots sideways and stops, standing in front of the second food table, holding both palms by his legs, saying with a worried brow and a sissy whine. "I want your FDA supervisor."

Bobcat scoots sideways and stand in front of the first food table, saying with a smile and a nod "She's busy."

Teague continues to slides sideways and aims the gun at Loyce with a smile. "Your feet should be shoulder to shoulder width apart."

Bobcat smiles with a nod at Loyce. "I just read an article that overweight men actually outlive skinnier guys like me and you, Tomcat."

Teague stops and frowns through the eye piece of the gun at the chest cavity on Loyce, "Bullshit, Bobcat!"

Bobcat smiles at Loyce. "True shit, Tomcat! An overweight male will go and see a doctor with their health concerns while being screened for diseases and then treated for their health ailment."

Loyce scoots sideways and bumps into the third food table, saying a worried brow and a sissy whine. "I want a lawyer."

Bobcat moves and stands in front of the second table, wiggling his mobile telephone into the air near his smile with a chuckle. "You get a cell."

Loyce stops and stands inside the wall corner which is the farther mathematical distance from the gun inside the hand on Teague, where he might live from one or two bullets wounds. He shouts out loud with a worried brow and a sissy whine. "I want justice."

Bobcat laughs with a smile. "You get a gun."

Loyce possesses a severely obese body frame from obviously ignoring a good diet and lots of good sweaty sex acts, producing an array of fat mass over the muscle mass with heavy ugly abdominal fat that hangs over and out from his dress shirt, without a necktie.

Teague slowly scoots sideways and stops, standing inside the opposite wall corner. He lowers the gun and pulls back, releasing the slide mechanism on the pistol, manually loading the first bullet into the chamber. He says a smile yo Loyce. "I'm coked and locked, boy."

Loyce stands inside the far wall corner with a set of tears and a sissy whine, holding both of his palms in the air, looking at Teague. "I wanna live."

Bobcat stands in front of the food table and laugh out loud at Loyce. "You get death."

Teague aims the cold barrel of his gun at the chest cavity on Loyce. "Goodbye, Mr. Loyce."

A single loud gunshot echoes outside the glass window on the Vulcan Tower.

Teague and Bobcat turn at the same with a gasp and views the television screen. Bobcat presses the volume button on the remote control device in his hand.

"...fired..." The television announcer shouts out loud on the television speaker. "A gunshot has been fired. There is apparently a single gunshot that has been fired down into the football game. There are football players lying down over the green grassy game field, not moving. I see red colored on the green grassy field too. All the coaches, the armed police escorts, and the physicians are rushing down on the field..."

"There's no assassin." Teague narrows his eyelids with a whisper and a puzzled brow at the television. A pile of wiggling and non-wiggling bodies from numerous football players rest on top the green grass that is slowly turning into a set of red colored grass on the football field. He sneers and turns to face a new cold barrel.

Loyce fires his personal hand gun and hits the chest on Teague.

Teague stumbles backward from the solo flying bullet that hits directly into his chest, flinging both of his arms into the air, dropping his weapon down on the carpet. He lands down inside the sitting chair and then rolls sideways, landing down on his back spine over the carpet with a set of loud grunt, closing his eyelids into the pain.

The hands and the arms of Loyce jerk upright from the recoil of the small hand pistol as he grunts in surprise of the force of a small weapon.

Bobcat turns with a growl to see Loyce and drops down into a shooting stance with a pair of bowed legs, firing the first bullet into the hidden heart valve on Loyce. He pumps and pulls the trigger over and over again, gritting his teeth, growling at the son of bitch. Loyce is extremely tall and extremely overweight as the semi-automatic pistol empties completely without any more bullets and any more rapid rhythm explosion.

The room is silent.

Loyce stumbles backwards against the wall corner from the seventeen direct bullets by Bobcat, flinging both of his arms into the air as each one departs from his broken body. The right arm hits and knocks over the third food table, slowly falling forward and lands on top of bloody carpet with a soft thud. Loyce hits the wall, slumping down into a folded lump of body parts, landing on an ass inside the wall corner.

The luxury room door slides open.

Lorinda and the other FDA inspectors enter and scatter around the private luxury suite, holding a weapon in the air near a stern face. Lorinda does not drop the weapon, quickly sidesteps along the side wall, and then stops, standing in place, looking down with an angry face and a shout at the Teague, "Get an ambulance. Take Teague to the Birmingham Hospital emergency room trauma center," she turns and stares at the back spine of male FDA inspector Ram.

Numerous emergency medical paramedics rush in front of Lorinda, stop, squat over Teague on the floor, working to save his precious life.

Ram run ahead from the open door and slides over a bloody slick red colored carpet, falling down on both of his kneecaps, leaning over with a sour frown. He shakes his skull down at Loyce and says with a stern face and a serious tone. "Jeezus! Bobcat shot that fucking fist-sized vital organ to shit, Lorinda. I can't locate one atrium, ventricle, or artery. And the breastbone is partial missing and both arms are completely severed from the arm joints. He's dead, Lorinda."

Lorinda drops down her weapon and moves ahead, reaching over, jerking the smoking gun from Bobcat. She sneers into his nose profile. "This bloody mess is your fault. You couldn't wait for proper FDA backup. You wanted this to happen, don't you, Mr. Fulton? Don't bother answering me either. You wanted to find Mr. Loyce first. And you did. You and Teague had to play a pair of redneck cowboys," she jabs a finger down at the bloody carpet with a sneer. "Look at Teague! He bleeds all over the floor."

Bobcat slowly turn from dead Loyce and looks down with a gasp at Teague. The pair of paramedics stand upright from the bloody carpet and lift up the bloody body on Teague onto a portal medical stretcher. Teague is covered in a bloody blanket and an IV needle is down jammed into his naked hand. Bobcat steps forward toward his childhood friend with a gasp and a worried heart.

Lorinda sneers into the nose profile on Eckward, "I am not finished here with you, Mr. Fulton. You have screwed up this entire FDA inspection from day one. I am in charge of everything. I am responsible for everything, including you, Mr. Haywood, and that dead thing in the wall corner. You are suspended upon investigation, Mr. Fulton."

Bobcat turns and sneers at his supervisor with a sour frown. "Fuck off, bitch! I quit my job and the FDA." He reaches down and tosses his FDA badge on the carpet first, gently dropping his FDA issued hand gun down onto the sitting chair second. He had replaced his own personal weapon back into the hostler, when Teague had chosen and aimed his personal weapon at Duff Loyce for the final kill shot.

Bobcat swiftly moves ahead with a sneer and exits the room, following behind the medical cot with Teague.

05:33 p.m.

Birmingham Hospital

Cold temperatures with bright stars of night

Emergency trauma room two setting

On top of the cool bed linens, I exhale with pain and blink my eyelashes open, seeing a white colored ceiling inside a strange room. I feel a series of wet cloth bandages around both of my wrist bones and ankle bones, closing my eyelashes in pain and weakness.

Vester had rescued Nadean from the wire trap inside the secret underground cave that had been set by Duff Loyce, a bank recovery counsel from the Third National Bank of Florida.

Inside the cold bed linens of the hospital mattress, I can hear the sound of faint voices inside the outer hallway and open my eyelashes, slowly turning a face to the side wall.

A second medical bed is rolled into the room and stops next to Nadean that contains a male patient. The male possesses a head of silver tinted hair, resting his body flat over the warm white colored bed linens with red spots of blood, without talking or movement.

The nurse moves ahead and stops, standing over the male patient inside the second medical bed with a worried brow and a yell, checking the bandages. "He's stable. Prep him for immediate surgery now! We can save his life right now."

A second nurse appears and stands inside the archway of the emergency room with a stern face, pointing at the medical bed with Nadean. "What about her?"

The first nurse looks back over a collar bone with a stern face to see Nadean, "Leave her..."

"But she..."

The first nurse spin around and taps the IV bag on the male patient with a stern face. "She is last. He can be saved right now. Get a transporter in here and take this wounded male down to the operating room surgery, stat."

A third nurse appears and stands inside the open archway, thumbing back over a collar bone with a serious tone. "There are more wounded and bloody bodies coming directly into our ED from the Old Gray Man. Get to the ambulance now. Grab one of the doctors and come in here now to prep that man for surgery, pronto."

All the nurses leave emergency trauma room number two.

On top of the cool bed lines, I feel tired, weaken and in pain, closing my eyelashes, hearing a faint noise inside the room. I open my eyelashes and turn to see the male patient.

The male patient flings both of his arms and legs into the air, whispering a set of loud grunts, wiggling side to side in pain. He turns to face the female patient in the next medical bed.

I gasp at the bloody face with worry. "OT!"

"Duchess!" Teague rolls to the side and swing off the medical cot, stumbling down on both of his kneecaps with a loud grunt, slowly standing upright from the floor. He bends over at his fit waist in pain and exhales with short breathes. His open chest wound spill out numerous red tinted blood proteins over the floor, his shirt, and his naked hand.

Inside the cool bed linens, I hold my breath and say with worry. "Is my son safe, Teague?"

He slowly moves across the short distance over the floor, leaving a bright a trail of fresh blood proteins, ripping off the itchy bandage from his chest. He jerks out the stinging IV needle from his bloody hand, saying with a grunt of a pain and a smile of love. "OT is safe." He coughs out loud and mouth spits his bloody saliva down onto the clean with a smile.

On top of the cool bed linens, I stare into his bloody face, feeling weak and pain with a whisper of love. "OT..."

He slowly shuffles from his medical bed to her and stumbles down on the floor again as his chest pours out volumes of fresh bright red blood proteins over the floor, his blue jeans, and his naked hand. Teague stands upright from the floor and grunts out loud in pain, bending over at his fit waistline, slowly pushing forward with a bright smile of and a pair of dancing eyes of happiness. "I promised that I'd protect OT. And I promised Vester and Vassar to find you, Duchess." He stops with a grunt and holds onto the upright guard railing on her medical cot with a deep sigh, reaching down with a grunt, lowering the metal railing. He tumbles down into her medical bed with a smile and rests beside Nadean, leaning over into her face with a cough of pain and a smile of love. "And here, you are with me, finally. You're safe from Loyce, too."

I could see the dripping blood coming out from his chest cavity. Teague displays more blood on his face and in his hair. I exhale in pain and a whisper of worry. "Is Vester and Vassar okay? They rescued me from the cave. But they were hurt when all the wires snapped away from my four bones and back into the dirt walls."

His exposed chest wound bleed flood the bed sheets and Nadean in red hue and as he grunts in pain and smiles in love at her. "Yeah, they are fine and dandy, sweetheart."

On top of the cool bed linens beside Teague's body, I feel lightheaded, sleepy, and weak while blinking my eyelashes, staying awake.

He leans over and gently touches her wrist with a worried brow. "Your wrists are all bandaged. Does it hurt, precious?"

I cough out loud and the smile with a whisper. "Just a little! Your chest is bleeding. Does it hurt, sugar?"

He coughs out loud and smiles with a whisper of love into her grin, "Just a little, honey..." he leans over and kisses her lips, pulling back with a cough and smile. "Nadean, I love you. I have always loved you from our first day in our shared first grade at Brier Elementary School. I loved you when you shot that BB gun at me on your farm at nine years old. I loved you during our illegal car race with the cotton gin run to Montgomery and until the day that I had seen you again at Birmingham Hospital. When we leave here now, we are going to be together, always and forever, my love. I promise, Duchess."

I smile and then cough out loud, saying with a whisper of love. "Tomcat, I love you, too."

He parts his lips with a cough and then smiles with a whisper. "You...you finally called me, Tomcat." He leans down and cuddles her into his bleeding chest, exhaling with a huff of pain.

I cough out loud and then smile into his eardrum, saying with a whisper of real happiness and love from my true soul mate. "Yeah, I finally called you, Tomcat."

He pulls back with a smile and then coughs out loud, whispering in real happiness and love with his true soul mate too, "Tomcat and Duchess, finally together at long last." He leans down with a smile into her sweaty face.

I close my eyelashes and feel his soft lips during our loving tender kiss of eternity.

At 05:44 p.m. inside emergency room number thirteen, in the hospital bed next to the white colored wall, Vester rolls to the side from the hospital bed mattress and slowly stands upright on top of the hard floor folding down at his fit waist with a soft moan.

During the rescue inside the cavern, Vester had bent down with his torso and his face over the bed mattress inside the cave-room and touched the cheekbone on Nadean sharing his brotherly love and concern, when the right wrist bone wire separated and sliced a diagonal slash across his chest, missing his heart and his right lung. The sharp end tore through his blue jeans, slashing down into his thigh.

Now, he is bandaged up and banged up moving ahead towards the open archway with a stiffed legged limp. Each wound slice is deep and painful but tolerable, until he finds his older sister Nadean.

Inside the same hospital room, his brother Vassar rolls off a different hospital bed and slowly stand upright on top of the floor with a loud grunt. He focuses a good eyeball on a new physical location, an emergency room with a wall of life-saving equipment and two additional hospital beds. Each hospital bed holds Tank and Duke. He reaches up and touches his face which his bandaged with a cloth and wrapped in pain.

During the rescue of Nadean, inside the cave-room, the single thin jewelry wire had sliced into his right cheekbone, exposing the bone. He ducked down in time, before the same wire had decapitated an earlobe or cut through his scalp or into his brain matter.

Vassar moves ahead and stops, standing over his partner/lover/ husband Duke.

Duke is alive and heavily sedated after fighting with the paramedics, the nurses, and the physicians. He is bandaged from the third rib cage down to the eleventh.

During the rescue of Nadean inside the cave-room, the single jewelry wire had ricocheted backwards from the loud snap, tearing through the left side on Duke's rib cage. He had jerked backwards from the wire without any additional body damage, before meeting another final fate.

Vassar leans down and tenderly kisses the heathy cheekbone on his lover Duke, pulling back with a smile and a quick prayer for mercy.

Vester limps over and stops, standing in pain, looking down at his partner/lover/husband.

Tank has suffered a wicked wound slice to his upper thigh. He is slightly sedated also until the appropriate walking equipment is available for the immediate transport out of the hospital and back to their mountain home.

Vester leans down and gently kisses the cheekbone on Tank, pulling back with a grunt of pain, standing upright with a loud grunt. He back steps from Tank and limps backwards from the hospital bed, slowly spinning around with another grunt, moving ahead to the open archway inside the Birmingham Hospital emergency room.

The outside area is busy and noisy with a set of running nurses, rooms of shouting patients, and one lonely male in the middle of the mess, who creates a scene.

Eckward stand in the middle of the room and shouts out loud at each nurse, pointing to each individual emergency room with a sneer.

Vester and Vassar slowly limp ahead side by side and finally stops, surrounding Eckward.

Eckward continues to scan the busy emergency room, "Where is Teague Haywood from the FDA Inspection Office? He was transported here twenty minutes ago from the Birmingham Vulcan Stadium. I can't find him. Where is his room? Which room is Teague Haywood inside?"

Vester reaches out and gently taps the collar bone on Eckward, saying with a worried brow. "Bobcat, what has happened?"

Bobcat turns with a gasp and a sigh to see the two Garland brothers, "Vester! Vassar! Tomcat, he got shot. Loyce shot Teague."

Vester turns and scans each emergency room, narrowing his eyelids at the tiny signage. "He is here. The rooms are identified by the patient's trauma condition. A gunshot would be closest to the emergency doors with the all of vital life-saving equipment."

Bobcat turns with a huff and swiftly jogs toward the first trauma emergency room with a worried mind and a worried heart, leaving Vester and Vassar behind.

Vester and Vassar slowly limp ahead next to each other and views each emergency room while searching for Nadean.

Vester smiles. "Nadean is here too. Her wounds looked pretty bad."

Vassar limps ahead and views the next open room emergency, saying with a smile. "We get her stable. Then, we call in our markers, all the best physicians to come to our mountain and treat Nadean. She lives with us, until we can get her and Teague finally married."

Vester chuckles with a nod. "I noticed that Teague enjoyed her high spirit too. We build them a mansion, right next door to us. I don't want Nadean wandering away from us, ever again."

Vassar smiles without nodding with his bad eyesight. "I think she has finally learned her lesson. Her next move will be permanent living with her new married husband Teague and us on top of Mount Kisla."

At 06:06 p.m. inside trauma room number two, Bobcat stops and stands inside the open archway with a puzzled brow in silence. There are two bodies which are intertwined on top of one single hospital bed. He shakes his skull at the weird-ass site and swiftly back steps from the open archway with growl, sidestepping and stands inside the next archway of trauma room number one. There is an elderly male on top of a single hospital bed, who moans in pain.

He has viewed each one of the trauma rooms that hold a young person or an elder person or middle aged person, but not his childhood friend Teague.

Bobcat sidesteps again and stands inside the trauma room two, slowing entering, approaching the occupied single hospital bed with a gasp. He immediately recognizes the shoulder length silver hair on Teague. The chest wound continues to spill out a set of red tinted blood proteins from an injured Teague that flows over the curved body on Nadean and the white tinted bed sheets inside their shared bed mattress.

Bobcat stops and stands behind the back spine on Teague, slowly reaching out with a shaky hand toward his childhood friend, wearing a face of tears.

Vassar moves ahead towards emergency trauma room two a bit faster than his wimpy and limply twin brother Vester who carries a chest wound and a bad leg. The other trauma rooms had been searched and did not contain his sister Nadean.

Vassar and Vester stop and stand inside the wide archway while seeing the sight. Two bodies are intertwined on top of the single hospital bed inside the room.

Beside the medical hospital bed, behind the back spine on Teague, Bobcat touches the neck on Teague with a worried heart, shouting out loud in fear and panic and sadness. "Damn, no! Get a doctor in here now! I don't feel a pulse. Teague, get up, man! Tomcat, move out the bed, buddy! Teague, please, don't leave me and Otter! Teague! Teague!" He reaches down and shakes the bloody body on Teague with a worried brow and a wounded heart, flooding a sweaty face with a set of wet hot tears.

Vassar back steps from the open emergency archway, yelling out loud to one of the medical nurses, "Code Blue! Stat in here! Code Blue, now, in here! We need a Code Blue, stat, in here!"

Vester slowly moves through the archway with a confused brow and views Nadean. She and Teague are wrapped...naw...cuddled into each other's arms in a flower bed of red human blood proteins on top of the white tinted bed linens inside a single hospital bed. Her chest does not slowly raise and fall like it should. He halts in place with a worried heart and a worried mind with numbness and sorrow.

Vassar quickly moves inside the room and halts next to Vester with a worried brow, staring down at the two intertwined bodies with a gasp. "No! Please no!" He dashes forward to Nadean and stops, standing behind her back spine, reaching out. He touches her forehead, feeling chilly. Then he touches one of her wrapped wrists, feeling coldness. Then he touches her neck, feeling death.

A team of medical staff member rushes into the emergency room, scattering toward the medical equipment. One nurse slams into the back spine on Vester, trying to push and shove the tall male out from the emergency room. Vester does not move.

The emergency room physician enters the room and stops, standing at the foot end of the single hospital bed with a gasp, pointing down with a puzzled brow at the two intertwined bodies, "What...what is this? Why are there two people inside a single hospital bed? Each patient should have their own hospital bed to separate their medical illness. Did we run out of hospital beds, nurse? What are they doing together inside one hospital bed? Does anyone know?" He scoots around and stops behind Teague with a stern face, touching his neck with a nod. "He has passed into heaven," then he leans over and touches the neck on Nadean with a stern face. "She has passed into heaven, also." He turns and smiles at the nose profile on Eckward. "Were they a happily married couple, sir?"

Vester stands in place and smiles with a set of rolling tears, staring at his dead sister Nadean and his dead farm neighbor Teague. "They are now."

Bobcat continues to stand and sobs with rolling tears for his dearest friend and brother-in-law with a nod in silence. Vassar scoots around the bed and stops, reaching out, patting the collar bone on Bobcat in silence. Bobcat exhales with a heavy heart and a sad face with a whisper of love, staring at their dead bodies that are eternally intertwined foreverly, "Tomcat had always secretly loved Duchess."

Vassar floods his dirty face and his dirtier shirt with his tears and a whisper of love, "Yes, Nadean had always secretly loved Teague, too."
A few days later...

Friday January 15th

01:01 p.m.

Kisla Mountain peak

Picnic table setting

Cold temperatures of wintertime

White snow with bright sunshine and endless blue sky

The winds soar from the southwest at three miles-per-hour on top of the mountain peak home that belongs to twin brothers Vassar and Vester during the beautiful sunny winter day. Last night, the clouds had released a set of snowflakes sparkling like a field of diamonds, covering the hard red clay soil and dead brown grass.

A stranger squats down in the shallow snow and digs a deep hole in front of an ancient two-hundred-year old oak tree and then buries two sets of burnt ashes, consisting of Nadean Garland and Teague Haywood together inside an empty plot within the hardened red clay dirt. Then the stranger stands upright from the snow without covering up the hole inside the red clay dirt, sliding backwards, standing beside the tree.

This morning, a team of strangers had cleaned off some of the sparking snowflakes off, creating a clear walking footpath from the house and toward the picnic table for the set of new guests.

Vassar, Tank, Duke, Vester, Bobcat, Otter, and Kitten sit around the picnic table, wearing a pair of gloves, a fur hat, a fur coat, and a pair of sunglasses from the blinding bright daylight in the middle of January wintertime, attending a brief memorial of the two deceased. Each one sobs with pain, love, sadness, happiness, and selfishness.

A second stranger moves forward and squats down in the snow, placing down, planting a red colored fully bloomed rose bush on top of burnt grays ashes of Nadean and Teague, covering the roots of the red bush with red clay soil and mostly white snow. Then the red colored rose bush will freeze and die by midnight from the twenty-three degreed weather on top of a mountain peak. The strange stands upright from the snow and scoots sideways, spinning around, standing beside the tree and the new rose bush and the first stranger. The stranger, the new rose bush and the tree stares down at the picnic table in silence.

Vassar stands upright from the picnic bench with a stern face, shuffles ahead, and then stops, standing a few feet from the blooming red colored rose bush, looking up with a smile to see the tall branches on the oak tree and finally at the edge of heaven above his home mountain peak, "Dear Heavenly Father, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and all our angels here in attendance today with us. You gave us life. You gave us death. You have taken away our two friends who have now re-acquired as your two heavenly angels for a second time. We are very appreciative of their limited time with us on Planet Earth. Please give them our love. And you please give them your mercy as we sayeth in the name of our Holy Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen!"

A chorus of faint voices sings in soft unison at the picnic table, "Amen."

Two fur-coated and gloved hand medical nurses turn and guide a pair of two wheelchairs that hold the injured bodies of Tank and Duke, rolling the bodies back into the house for another restful evening. Tank and Duke are still slightly mediated with intense pain from their wounds, when they had assisted with the rescue of Nadean inside an underground cavern.

The people at the picnic table slowly stand upright from the shared bench seat and scatter around the dead grass, stopping and form a line, looking down at the blooming red colored rose bush and the tall tree.

Vassar back steps from the ancient tree and the rose bush, slowly spinning around, wearing a bandaged face and see the young female. He strolls forward and stops, standing in place to meet her for the first time with a smile. "Kitten, you are invited anytime to visit your daddy up here." He extends and hands her the mobile telephone wrist watch with a smile. "This is our newest invention. But you use it to contact me for anything."

Otter leans over and cuddles her niece Kitten in silence. Both women nod and sob in silence.

Vassar crinkles the bandaged face with a smile. "Don't worry about your daddy's estate either. We have a group of lawyers doing that for you." He looks up with a smile to see heaven and returns back with a stern face, viewing the red swollen face on Teague's biological daughter Kitten. "Each one of our lives is hard. But each one of our spirits is bold. I will miss my sister, too." He smiles at Teague's younger sister Otter. "The helicopter will take all of you back home to Brier. If you want to see your daddy, then I will send the helicopter at any time of day, night, evening, dusk, or dawn. There is always someone here on our mountain paradise. And you are always invited and welcomed to stay for as long as you would like. There are many extra bedrooms here on our mountain home. I hope that we can become good friends, soonest."

Otter nods in silence, reaching out and gently pats the furry arm on Vassar with a fake smile and a set of new hot tears.

Kitten sniffs up the mucus and sobs with tears, turning with a puzzled brow to see the red swollen face of her aunt Otter with a soft timber. "I don't know anything about this lady named Nadean. Why would my daddy love her, too?"

Bobcat reaches out and hugs Kitten, pulling back with a smile and a nod. "I will be happy to tell you all about Duchess. Your daddy nicknamed her, too, within our rebel gang of belle and beau rednecks at Brier High School, a long time ago."

Kitten sniffs up the dry mucus and sobs with tears, turning with a smile to see the rose bush. "I wanna know about Duchess, too."

Otter leans over into the wet cheekbone on Kitten, whispering with a set of sniffs and sobs too. "We can start right now."

Vassar points at the helicopter over the dead grass with a smile. "The pilot is ready if you don't wanna stay for some food."

Otter shakes her furry hat that covers her curls but not her wounded heart from the cold air on top of a mountain peak, slowly spinning around, moving ahead toward the rotating blades with an open door on the helicopter in silence. They step up and load into the rear seating of the flying machine.

The door closes shut.

The helicopter lifts off from the dead grass and flies in the bright sunshine.

Bobcat spins around, moves ahead through the shallow white snow towards the edge on the mountain peak and then stops, staring with a smile into the awesome work of Almighty God. Vassar moves ahead and stops, standing next to Bobcat with a smile, staring at his rental landscape of God's property.

Eckward continues to wear the pair of sunglasses, covering up the bright sun and the red eyeballs, saying with a smile and a soft timber. "The white snow, the red land, and the blue sky meet on your mountain. This is a beautiful place. Tomcat approves," He looks down with a smile and views the valley with some green and some brown colored forest woodlands and a few roaming large animals, turning to see Vassar with a puzzled brow. "Where is OT?"

Vassar exhales with a huff of sadness and stares ahead into the bright sun, wearing the pair of sunglasses to cover up the pair of red colored eyeballs also. "Winfred finally gets to be a true daddy for the very last time. He is burying his son OT within the city cemetery in Palmton, Florida. That is Winfred's hometown."

Bobcat returns back and shakes his skull, staring into the sunlight with a sad heart. "I can't believe OT is dead. I can't believe that single gunshot killed him on the football field during the championship football game."

Vassar exhales with a huff of sadness. "The crazy Burn U fan was aiming his sniper rifle at the Bam U quarterback, when OT did his infamous thing. OT sacked the quarterback and then the single gunshot permeated the left lung on OT, going straight through and out from his pumping heart. Both those young boys died an instant death on the battlefield like a true warrior of Bama."

Bobcat exhales with more sadness. "I am so sorry, Vassar, for your loss of both Nadean and OT."

Vassar nods with a sad face at the sunlight. "I have too many feelings of too many emotions spinning around inside my dizzy head. I am so sorry for Teague's senseless death too. I'm happy that you terminated Loyce's life force. He is serving his time in hell now. He was a true genius trapping Nadean inside the wiring for his evil game. The wires sawed through her skin, her tissue, and her bones while she catnapped. I wondered what she daydreamed about..."

"They say that your life passes right in front of your eyes, before you leave from here and go into heaven."

Vassar nods with a sad face into the sunlight. "I guess so. The 8000 jolts of live electricity from the tiny twelve watts of battery had caulked her leaking blood like sealing a kitchen faucet metal joint. No one knew the amount of total blood loss coming from Nadean..."

"Tomcat did. He saw her inside the emergency room. That was why he ripped off the chest dressing from his gunshot wound that was not fatal, but final. He could have lived here with us but not without Nadean. Then he swiftly drained his own blood across the room to be with Duchess inside her hospital bed." Bobcat exhales with a sad face into the sunlight.

Vassar smiles with a nod. "Teague wanted to be with Nadean inside heaven. I truly believe that Nadean, Teague, and OT are all happy together now. Us folks down here live within the hell of missing them until our earthly time is up."

Bobcat nods with a sad face, "Yeah," he back steps from the cliff and turns to face Vassar, extending a gloved hand to the man. Vassar turns and accepts the handshake, releasing it in silence. Bobcat exhales with a fake smile and a generous heart, "Thanks, Vassar. Please tell Vester that too. Thanks for everything. This is not the time to say but thanks for taking care of my civil and criminal legal battle with my supervisor and the FDA agency."

He smiles. "Think nothing of it, Bobcat. I have a team of hungry, greedy, and selfish old and new lawyers that love to beat and then eat the US Federal Government. You will win big. And I am going to win big for Teague and his daughter Kitten also. This thing will be over, soonest."

Bobcat exhales with sorrow. "Thank you! I plan to visit next week with Tomcat's parents. They are taking all this too hard."

He nods with a stern face, reaching up, gently slapping the furry arm of Bobcat. "Come anytime. You have the cell wrist watch. Please, keep it and use it."

Bobcat nods with a fake smile. "I will." He and Vassar turn and move ahead toward the returned helicopter. Bobcat stops and looks behind over a collar bone with a worried brow, viewing the back spine on Vester. "Is Vester okay? He hasn't said a single word, since we all left the hospital, three days ago."

He smiles with a nod. "Vester is doing fine. He grieves in his own way as a unique individual from Almighty God."

Bobcat nods with a stern face, "So long, Vassar! I guess that we will be seeing each other more often. Otter is going to visit Tomcat for quite a while until her heartbreak..."

"Yes," he nods with a smile, gently reaching up and slaps the furry arm on Eckward. "Ya'll come, anytime. And I wanna thank you for helping Teague come up here and stay with Nadean. She likes that too. I feel that they are finally together, foreverly."

Bobcat nods with a deep sigh of sadness and spins around, slowly moving inside the helicopter, sitting down on top of the soft leather seat. He sobs with sad tears missing his childhood friend, work partner, and brother-in-law Teague. Eckward has retired from the FDA agency. But the FDA Agency is fighting against his tart resignation letter and has applied some legal matters against his unethical work code. However, he has confidence in his two new friends Vassar and Vester who will work and win his legal battle with the FDA agency.

Eckward is working to permanently move from metro city Birmingham and live inside one of the smaller house on his father's land. He will take over the farm lands from his elderly father and take up the new responsibilities as the new father for Teague's daughter Kitten, who attends college also.

His son is attending college and will graduate in a few years, seeking a new career in Birmingham.

His wife Otter is both happy and sad at the new set of events regarding her husband. But with the deep love from her husband Eckward, she will survive and continue to exist on Planet Earth with her loving family. Life is hard when someone dies but you continue to move forward.

The helicopter door closes.

Vassar stands in place and watches the helicopter liftoff from the dead grass, flying back toward the tiny farm town of Brier for a short ten-minute sky trip. He follows the copter into the bright sunray on top of his mountain paradise and stares with a smile at the back spine on his twin brother Vester, who stands in front of the newly planted rose bush and the tall oak tree.

At 01:14 p.m. in front of the tall oak tree, Vester holds the hunting knife in the air near his smile after carving out a childish design into the brown bark on the ancient two-hundred-year old tree directly underneath the slowly dying red colored rose bush from the cold wintertime air temperatures, back stepping with a nod.

Tomcat loves Duchess

He had curved each individual letter with the knife and then surrounded the proper sentence structure with an outline of a loving heart with a single arrow point running down through the middle for both names from the eternal love-bird angels that resided in heaven now.

In front of the tree, Vester exhales with a huff of sadness and a puff of steamed breath coming from the cold air temperatures slowly back stepping, standing in-between the tall oak tree and the short picnic table. He slowly looks up with a smile beyond the blue sky and the white clouds into heaven from his mountain peak home with a whisper of love. "Nadean, when you feel like it, reach down with your fingertip and touch me from up there in heaven. I will feel you, Sis. I will know your love. Because, Nadean, you have taught me to love too. I understand the emotion now, willingly to share with everyone, even my own forth coming biological child. I hope that she's a little cowgirl like you. I love you, Sis. Goodnight, Nadean Orion Garland!" He lifts the other hand and wipes off the tears from both eyelids with a happy heart of hope.

THE END

