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Season of Terror
by Tigger
© 2002, All Rights Reserved
Chapter 15: Advancement Exercises
The powerful automobile took the New England traffic circle without losing speed or with nary a shimmy. Jane wondered if there was anything psychologically significant about her decision to drive her new Audi A8 Quattro instead of her beloved Lincoln Town Car for this pick up. The power and handling of the German import certainly satisfied something deep inside the control freak she only admitted to herself. *And I will need all that and more with this one,* she thought ruefully.
"So this is out of the normal way of things for your program?" Victoria asked, interrupting Jane's uncomfortable bout of self-analysis. "All your other students come by train, like I did?"
"Yes. The long trip in a crowded train coach tends to make the student tired and irritable, both of which usually suit my purposes. Unfortunately, we couldn't allow this student even that much freedom. He had to be escorted and his parents could not afford the time to take the train all the way from his home in the Midwest. So, we're picking him up at the airport in Providence. Probably makes no difference since I cannot really go strongly on the offensive with him until I've got a handle on where his head is at psychologically."
"So why am I here?"
"You've never seen one of my big sisters work, but basically, you are to be the role model of exemplary good manners and breeding today which I will then use to find him significantly lacking in those graces."
Jane glanced at her ward's outfit and stifled a grin. If her hair had still been blonde, Victoria could have been costumed to play a slightly older Pollyanna in a remake of that Disney classic movie staring Halley Mills. *Only slightly older is right. And I thought Darla had the 'prim and proper Victorian miss' act down to a 'T'.* From her head to her toes, Victoria was rigged out in stark white. White dress, white hat, and white gloves with an abundance of lace, topping legs sheathed in white hose and last but not least, white, two-inch high-heeled pumps. She'd dressed her sable hair into an old fashioned pageboy, the dark tresses setting off her powder-pale face like a mahogany picture frame. *Heavens above, put a lace veil on that glorious mane and she'd look like a good little Italian girl dressed for her First Communion.*
"So I just stand around looking perfect, eh?"
Jane couldn't quite stifle the snort of laughter. "As close as you can manage, Victoria."
They had just merged with traffic on Interstate 95 when Jane uttered a mild epithet. "What?" Victoria asked, surprised by both the word and the emotion behind it.
"I forgot my gloves," Jane fumed.
"It's not that cold, Aunt Jane. And you'll be inside at the airport for the pickup anyway."
"Feminine armor, Victoria. A woman becomes more powerful when she is in tall heels and sleek black gloves. Something about a woman's hand swathed in skin-tight black leather sets off warning bells in the male psyche."
"I'll remember that for future reference," the younger woman said very seriously, "But that does not solve your problem."
Jane was already moving into the deceleration lane. "Well, we'll just have to make a quick stop at the mall so I can buy a pair. It will just take a minute and we have plenty of time."
"Mall?" Victoria asked, suddenly wary. "_That_ mall?"
"Hmmm?" Jane asked, distracted by the traffic pattern surrounding the mall. "Oh, that's right," she said, grinning. "You've been here before, haven't you?"
The look on the girl's face was all the answer Jane needed.
"Well, if you don't feel up to facing that place again, I won't force the issue. You can wait in the car if you'd prefer."
Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw her student's back straighten and her chin jut out. *Gotcha, girl,* she thought with a hidden smile.
"A little stretch of the legs sounds very nice right now, Aunt Jane," the girl said almost casually.
Quietly approving, Jane allowed Victoria to lead the way into the mall. *Wonderful! At last she is facing up to the things she fears instead of hiding or worse, attacking the innocent. That is real progress.*
They went to a small, very pricy, leather-wear boutique off the main corridor. "I'll just be a minute, Victoria."
Victoria treated herself to a little window shopping, checking out the adjacent stores's displays while waiting for Jane. She was just about to turn back toward the leather goods store when she heard, "Listen, sissy-boy, give me your money or we're going to mess up those pretty looks of yours and take it anyway!"
A cold frisson of fear ran up her spine. Had she been caught out? Victoria spun on her heel only to see a group of young toughs cornering a much smaller boy in one of the mall's very narrow service corridors. Then she recognized the ring leader - it was the same boy who had cornered Victor only a few short days ago.
Fright warred with anger as she watched the scene unfolding before her. The leader struck out at the boy, knocking him to the floor with an open-hand slap, then signaled two of his accomplices to pull their victim back to his feet. With arrogant indifference, the lead punk backhanded the boy viciously. Only the support of the two gang members kept him from collapsing back to the floor. "Give me money, bitch," the leader hissed.
Victoria saw red. Not even realizing what she was doing, she pushed her way through the circle of milling males and planted herself between the now-bleeding boy and his tormentor.
Her tormentor.
"Leave him alone, you big bully!" she snarled.
"Get out of here, bitch, before I hurt you, too."
Too outraged to realize her own danger, Victoria took a step toward the leader instead of retreating, but she didn't say anything - couldn't say anything.
The leader now had to go through the girl to get to his prey. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why she didn't seem to be afraid of him. She was only a girl - a prissy, fussy LITTLE girl. Hadn't she just seen him hurt that little pansy? Hadn't she just seen his power? "Last chance, bitch," he growled and tried to step around her only to have her cut him off again.
"Okay, you asked for it," he hissed, cocking his arm for another backhand, this one aimed at Victoria.
"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" a commanding voice cut through the tension of the moment. "Strike my niece and I will have you in jail so quickly it will make your head swim!"
Victoria turned to see Aunt Jane striding toward them, eyes flashing, lips set and pulling an incredible pair of gloves onto her hands like a knight donning gauntlets.
"YOU!" the leader snarled. "You're that damned truant officer. Well, we aren't cutting school right now, so you can go straight to hell, woman!"
"You two," Jane ordered pointing to the pair holding the injured boy. "Let him go, NOW!"
They did.
"Now, the rest of you have about twenty seconds to disappear before the security officers I have summoned arrive. If you wish to continue this. . .exchange, I am certain that they will be more than happy to escort you downtown to the police."
Just then, one of the boys shouted, "Oh shit, it's the cops!" and they all took off.
Victoria smiled her thanks to Jane and then turned to the boy. "Are you all right?"
"We'll take care of him, Miss," one of the grey-garbed security guards told her as he strode up. "Davis? Escort the boy to the clinic across the road and see that he gets home from there. Ma'am?" he continued turning to Jane. "Thanks for the call. Those punks have been getting away with murder lately because our surveillance gear has been down."
"So they'll get away with this?" Victoria insist on drawing herself to her full height. Jane saw there was fury sparkling in the girl's dark eyes.
"No, Miss, not this time. I said it 'has been down'. It's been up and running since noon. Everything, including ID-quality pictures of them, is on tape."
"Then why didn't you get here sooner?" she asked, still furious.
"Wrong time in the scan cycle. The guards on the monitors get a rolling scan of all our cameras. This lady's call got our attention sooner."
"I have an appointment to pick someone up at the airport, officer," Jane interposed. "Do you require anything further from me? A statement?"
One of the security officers turned to look at Victoria. "Miss, did he strike you? Harm you in any way?"
She shook her head. "No, sir. He was ready to, when Aunt Jane arrived, but he never touched me."
He studied her for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether there was more. Jane was pleased at how well Victoria stood up under his scrutiny. "Okay," he finally said, and then turned back to Jane. "And Ms., uh, Thompson, did you do anything other than call us? And talk to them of course, before we got here?"
"No. Your men arrived in the proverbial nick of time."
"Very well, then. With the surveillance tapes and the testimony of the boy who was struck, I don't think we'll need formal statements from you. I have your name and address, Ms. Thompson, and I can get back in touch with you if need be. Thank you for acting responsibly." The cop then turned a very stern eye on Victoria. "Except, young lady, if you feel the need to stand up to a bunch of hoodlums again, please let us be there to back you up *before* you read them the riot act, okay? I mean, it certainly took a lot of ba . . bravery to stand up to those punks, but you could have gotten badly hurt doing something like that."
"Yes, sir," she said, eyes down and cheeks blushing.
"Thank you again for arriving so promptly, officer, but we must hurry off," Jane said with a gracious smile. "Victoria? Come along. We'll be late."
Once outside, Jane rounded on her student. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING IN THERE?!?!"
Victoria sighed and shamefacedly stared at the toes of her shoes. "I wasn't thinking," she finally admitted. "When they kept hurting him, I just reacted - did the only thing I could."
"By shielding him with your own body? I don't know if that's bravery, bravado or stupidity!"
"Stupidity, probably, Aunt Jane," the girl said solemnly. "I just couldn't think of anything else to do. It never would have occurred to me to call security."
Jane considered that for a moment. "So you just counted on what?"
"I figured if he hit a girl, particularly a small girl, he'd lose face with his gang and that he knew that."
Finally, Jane nodded. It was not the solution she would have preferred, but it did show that her student had come even further than she had thought from the bully who had first entered her tuition those long months ago. "Next time, you'll think of calling security first. Now come along. We must hurry or we really WILL be late."
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© 2002 by Tigger. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.