***** Writer's note: Our story moves onward towards an inevitable end. Hang on to yourself! The way is dark and full of fears. Will Jack's secret be revealed.
SHOW ME!
Paul Traynor stood before the bench, accused of Statutory Rape and Incest. He pleaded guilty to both. It was not a lengthy trial; and, it got very little publicity, since no reporters were allowed. It was held before a Judge. There was no jury.
The defendant went to jail; it wasn't a long sentence, but it meant he would never be a school principal anywhere--ever again.
'Under the Mistletoe!' was sealed by the court. Locked in an evidence room, it would fade from the memory of man. No one got to see the video--not even the Judge.
Judge Jethro Jacobs washed his hands after the ruling. His ruling was not appealed.
Wendy Traynor filed for divorce. She asked for the house and half of the PERA retirement account.
Chelsea was emancipated, and never had to testify against her father. This time, she didn't even have to say, "Bye, Daddy!", when he was hauled off to jail.
Jack Grant leaned back in his chair, put his hands behind his head and just thought about the future. It was all probabilities, but some were almost certain. Jack contemplated the outcomes of this day in court.
They will never identify Dad, the Impaler.
Spencer will not get to plead his 'civil asset forfeiture theory' to the Oregon's high court.
This fall, Deputy District Attorney Riley will probably run for District Attorney based on a fine record of putting bad guys away. He may even be recognized by the State Bar Association for his work protecting victims of crime.
Our law firm will be paid the sum of $15,389.15. And to prove we are the good guys, Spencer and I will create an account in the name of Chelsea Traynor and deposit the proceeds of the case therein.
It's a certainty that Jennifer will call me an asshole, at least one more time, when we give her the letter of deposit for Chelsea. Dr. Sam will call me an asshole, too--right before she kisses me. Asshole will come to simply mean 'we love you!'.
Jennifer Justice Grant will most certainly have her name changed to Jennifer Green.
The trial is finally over! Life will gradually return to normal. Every major crisis in my life is under control. All the fires are out. Life is good, again. Maybe, just maybe all will finally be well!
It was past midnight and already into the wee hours of Saturday morning at the Grant home. Nikki was still out with MacKenzie, probably dancing. Jessica and Jack had returned home after the 'Inferno'. Jack had danced until his legs gave out and Jessica let him take her home.
Currently, she was on her knees, crawling around under Jack's desk and checking out his computer's set-up with a small flashlight stuck in her mouth. She twisted a few screws on the computer's case, popped the side-cover. She took the light from her lips and whistled.
Holy shit!
His new iPhone rang and Jack picked it up. It was Samantha Green. "Jack, the girls are spending the night and, maybe, tomorrow here, if that's okay."
"I thought they were out dancing."
"They were, but they had a little too much to drink and their ride brought them here. They believe both you and Spencer have dates tonight?"
Jessica hadn't heard the phone. "No dust? Who the fuck has a computer with no dust in the fans?"
Samantha heard a young woman's voice and smiled. "Is that Jessica I hear? What's she doing?"
"She's under my desk ... "
Samantha Green laughed out loud.
I just bet she is!
"Hey, Jess! Samantha says, 'Hi'; she's curious what you're doing under my desk."
"Tell her 'Hi!' but I can't talk with my mouth full.
What with the flashlight and all!
1600W power supply? That's like thirty-two 50W light bulbs on at once! That's enough electricity to light a small village in Mexico. How do you keep this from tripping the breakers?"
"I had the den rewired to a separate circuit with a heavier breaker and wiring."
Sam interrupted, "Jack, could we get back to the girls?"
"Sure, not a problem! Do I need to come get them tomorrow? Have you let Spencer know?"
"We called Spencer, because MacKenzie needs to stay here too. Tammy answered the phone, but she couldn't talk with her mouth full either."
From below his desk, they both heard, "Jack, hang up the fucking phone and try to concentrate. I don't want to be down here on my knees all night."
Dr. Sam laughed. "Night, Jack."
That can't be what it sounded like. But, you just never know.
Jessica looked back over her ass. "Okay, let me see ... there are ... What the fuck, Jack?! This machine has four video-cards. That's a lot of heat; what do you do with it?"
"See the large black six-inch ventilation hose that goes from the computer to the wall? Blows the heat outside like a washer-dryer exhaust."
"Jack, you've got more raw computational power than we used to get to the moon in the Apollo program, or the space shuttle, or the orbiting International Space Station. You could use this extra computational power to help SETI search for life 'out there' or gene-sequencing for a disease cure."
Jack's face spread in a Cheshire-Cat smile.
Yes, I know. And the power is mine—all mine! Nyah-ha-ha!
"Hell, some of the guys I have dated in college didn't have a computer this nice. They were 'gamers'. All they did was play games and go to class. Jack, this is a very nice computer."
"I know."
"Jack, I just don't get it." She slowly crawled out from under the computer. "You don't use a smart phone. You don't know how to use text messages or change the ringtones, but you have this. That's a lot of power, just to watch a little porn on the Internet. Where did you get it?"
"I built it." Jack smiled, proudly. "And, it's not for porn. I don't actually look at porn."
"Yeah, right! Even my dad looks at porn!
No man is impervious to porn, Jack Grant! No man!
"I enjoy high-fidelity combat flight-simulations." Reaching into a small cabinet next to the desk, he pulled out a pair of control sticks and set them on top of the desk. One was the throttle and one was a very accurate reproduction of a joystick. Then he set their foot pedals on the floor in front of the chair.
An hour later, she sat on his lap in one of his old white dress-shirts, flying the Mig-29 in a game called Flanker 2.0, behind an aerial tanker. She had a fuel probe out and was just seating it in the fueling boom attached to the wing of the Russian aerial tanker.
Jack was hard under her. He called it a problem with the 'erection seat'. His hands were above her pelvis acting as a 'seat belt'--'Just in case!' there was an emergency.
This is kind of like the movie 'Pearl Harbor' with Ben Affleck, where he takes the nurse up for a flight at sunset; but, she had all her clothes on!
Jack was so engrossed in watching her try to refuel the fighter on the screen that it caught him unprepared, when she asked offhandedly, "So, Jack, have you ever done this with anyone else? Showing them how to fly, sitting on your lap?"
Still dreaming of Nikki, Jack hesitated just a bit too long; and, Jess immediately picked up on it.
She frowned. "How do you pause this game?" Once he'd shown her, she punched the button and turned around on his lap, facing him, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing her forehead to touch his. Almost nose-to-nose, she looked into his eyes.
"Who'd you show, Jack?"
"Jessica, it doesn't really matter ... "
"Look, it'll be okay," she assured him. "Whoever it is, it'll be okay. I know you haven't dated since Nikki's mom left, right?"
Who the hell else has sat here on your lap? I thought you hadn't dated since your divorce.
He nodded his head.
