Knowing Your Strength Pt. 02

"Oh, I like the green one," Bailey announced.

"Oh my God!" Anthony clutched at his throat. "God, Bailey! My mouth is on fire!"

"You big sissy," Jason teased, even though sweat was forming on his forehead.

"The brown one's pretty nice," Amy offered.

"Thought you hated Indian food," Jason remarked, killing Amy's gracious mood.

"Cute, Dude, real cute," Anthony grumbled at his friend.

"Don't," Bailey admonished Jason, placing a pudgy hand on his upper thigh.

The bread gone, Hashim them brought out the rice and their individual meals.

"Oh my God!" Amy said after putting one of her shrimp into her mouth.

"What?" Anthony asked, afraid that she was finding more fault.

"Here, try this," Amy said, holding out a shrimp she'd skewered on her fork.

He did and nodded his head in approval.

"Want to see what the Lamb Tandori's like?" he offered and she dug her fork in, stabbing a sizeable chunk of the lamb.

"I thought..." Jason almost said again when he felt Bailey's hand on his thigh.

"Here, try this," she offered, holding out a forkful of her Lamb Boona.

"Damn Bailey; you like spicy stuff, huh?" Jason complained as the fiery stew made its way down his protesting throat.

"Big sissy," Anthony commented.

"And how is it?" Hashim asked, refilling their water glasses.

"This is some of the best stuff I've ever had," Amy blurted out.

"I really like this," Bailey agreed, indicating her Lamb Boona.

"Put some rice, soaks up the sauce," Hashim advised as he turned to attend to other customers.

"The driver smiled as he opened the limousine door; the bitchy red head was actually smiling and was walking side by side with the boy. The other couple were fairly wrapped up in each other.

"And how was it; I've never eaten here," he asked.

"It was really good," Amy said. "The Shrimp Tiki is awesome."

"Lamb Boona's the best," Bailey announced.

"Yeah, if you never want to feel your tongue again," Jason complained.

The limousine whisked them to St. Thomas Aquinas, where the gymnasium had been converted into a Winter Ballroom.

"Um, can we, I um, uh, I'd like a couple of pictures of, um, of us," Anthony said as they entered the gymnasium and spotted Connie Edwards' photo booth.

"Sure," Amy shrugged.

She felt Anthony's arm encircle her slim waist as Connie snapped the first shot.

She was a cheerleader, had been a cheerleader for four years, and therefore was one of the popular kids at this school. But this was the first time she'd been asked to one of the functions.

She had fucked and sucked almost every athlete and popular boy at their school, which should have made her very popular. But this was the first time she was with someone that wanted photographic proof of a date with her.

She couldn't remember ever being out on an actual date; all of her previous dates consisted on going from her driveway straight to the Basin. None of her 'dates' had ever taken her to a restaurant; her 'boyfriends' considered feeding her their tube steaks to be meal enough.

Amy turned and looked at Anthony, mouth open in shock.

She had thought Anthony was a total nothing; however, she was the one that was a total nothing.

"Thank you," she said humbly, touching the side of Anthony's face.

Connie snapped that pose as well.

"Come back in an hour and pick out the one you want copies of, okay?" Connie asked.

"Can I have one of them?" Amy quietly asked Anthony as they made their way to the entrance to the Ballroom.

"Just one? I'm getting six of them," Anthony said. "One for me, one for my mom and dad, and one for my grandmother; she's in a nursing home and then..."

Connie lowered he camera slightly to take the photographs of the five foot four inch Jason and the four foot ten inch Bailey then had to raise it up again as Doug Glassman, all six foot three inches of him and Dana Duluth, all six feet of her, came in. She also adjusted the lighting; Doug's lightly tanned skin would be slightly washed out, but if she didn't increase the light, Dana would be nothing but a dark smudge.

The Classic Ensemble finished a droning waltz and Mr. Cousins, the faculty advisor for the seven musicians decided they'd try a lively foxtrot.

"Oh, a foxtrot!" Amy said. "Please tell me you..."

Anthony quickly grabbed her and guided her through the steps.

"I um, I Googled this junk," Jason admitted to Bailey. "I think I know how to do this."

He didn't know how to do a foxtrot, but he was trying and Bailey gave Jason credit for trying.

He didn't know how to rumba either and hat to watch Anthony and Amy for a moment before deciding to try that.

"Now this is more like it," Jason told her as another waltz began.

"Why? Because it's slow?" Bailey teased, eyes glowing with happiness.

"No, because I finally get to hold you," Jason admitted.

"Oh," she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I love you," Jason mumbled into her hair.

"What?" Bailey asked, unsure she'd actually heard his words.

Epilogue.

Every now and then, Jason thinks he might have possibly heard Angel's voice, but he isn't really sure.

Every now and then, Jason thinks he might have possibly seen Angel, long blonde hair flowing but he isn't sure.

Quite often, he remembers to tell Bailey just how beautiful she is. Quite often remembers to tell Bailey he loves her.

Bailey redoubled her efforts to lose weight. On the night of the Winter Formal, she weighed one hundred and sixty two pounds. By High School Graduation, she had managed to drop thirty two pounds.

Bailey also found out that she could beat Jason and Anthony at video games; most of Jason and Bailey's dates were spent just cuddled together on the couch, playing Halo.

Every now and then, Anthony and Amy would join them, but Amy was terrible at video games.

Sean and Theresa Horner were gracious to the bone thin red head. Behind her back, Sean called Amy 'A Perfect Ten—10 inch boobs, 10 inch waist, 10 inch ass." For this, he gets a slap in the back of the head from Theresa.

Anthony was suspended for three days from St. Thomas Aquinas for fighting. Doug Glassman said something derogatory about Amy and got a few jabs in the face from Anthony.

On his return to class after his suspension, Anthony marched right up to a smirking Doug Glassman and again punched him in the face.

"Want to say it again, Bitch?" Anthony screamed at the no longer smirking Doug as Coach Dumas dragged the boy out of the classroom. "Huh? I can do this all day, you hear?"

Amy did not lose the smile the whole day; her man was willing to take on someone twice his size. Defending her honor. Not that she'd had any honor to defend but if Anthony knew that, he didn't let it show.

The day Anthony Horner returned to class after his second suspension, Doug Glassman walked up to him and apologized for his remarks. The two boys shook hands, and then Doug apologized to Amy. Again, Amy did not lose her smile. She now had honor.

Barry grumbled, but let Amy convert the living room into a dance floor. Then he realized, as long as he heard the music playing, he knew exactly where his Pumpkin was and what she was doing. (He'd heard rumors, hurtful gossip about his baby girl.)

He would stick his head in every now and then and would see Anthony and Amy waltzing around the room, eyes firmly on each other's eyes, smiling at each other. But they were dancing; not doing that other stuff people had said his Pumpkin was doing.

Rachael could not hide her pregnancy and was asked to leave St. Thomas Aquinas. The school did have a policy forbidding pregnant girls from attending classes. Brother Dominick, the school's administrator, did let her know she could complete the graduation requirements on-line and still receive her diploma that way.

As soon as she was asked to leave St. Thomas Aquinas, Rachael was ordered to leave the home of her overly religious mother and step-father. Since her father's death and her mother's quick marriage to Stephen Arcenaux, her paternal grandparents turned their backs on her. A pregnancy did not thaw their hearts. Her maternal grandparents were just as zealous in their religious fervor so Rachael was essentially homeless.

Her friends from school were forbidden to associate with her Harrison was still claiming the child was not his.

So Rachael slept in her car at night, parking the car behind St. Thomas Aquinas Church. During the day, she would go to the public library to use their computers to do the on-line requirements for her high school diploma.

When people began to edge away from her, Rachael would go to the laundry mat to wash four of the five outfits she'd managed to buy with the forty five dollars she'd had in her wallet when her mother kicked her out of the house. While her clothes washed in the large commercial washing machine, Rachael would go into the dingy bathroom of the laundry mat and clean herself up.

When she wasn't clutching it fervently, Rachael wore her rosary around her neck.

When she was seven and a half months pregnant, a kindly old man she'd met at the library invited her to stay at his house.

Rachael stretched out in the comfortable bed; belly full, hair and body scrubbed clean.

She could faintly hear her benefactor's voice and quietly got out of the bed.

"No, no, typical dumb blonde cunt," she heard the man say into his throwaway cell phone. "Pregnant; says the puppy she's carrying's a girl too.

She stepped back as the old man turned toward the door.

"And her tits? Fucking unbelievable; tag says 'thirty six E but the thing's about to bust open, I swear," the man chortled.

Rachael began to feel her limbs growing weary. She reacted as quickly as she could; returning to her room and gathering her now cleaned clothes.

"Yeah, about ten minutes, stupid bitch'll be out of it; put it in her cow juice," she heard the man say.

She wasn't sure what he'd put in her glass of milk but that was probably why she now felt like she was walking underwater.

"Ten thousand like the last time?" the man said just as she opened the door of the home.

It was her extreme fortune that Deputy Becky Yuma and her partner, Officer Mike Stevens were driving past, on routine patrol. Rachael summoned every ounce of strength to flag the cruiser down, just as the old man reached out to yank her back into his house.

Rachael came to in a soft clean bed in St. Elizabeth Parish's Trauma Center.

Herbert Wilson, the 'kindly old man' did not have time to dispose of the throwaway cell phone, or the five other throwaway phones in the house and Dick Davis, Sheriff of the Bender Police Department realized he was in over his head. The FBI was called in; the phone number the man had been talking to was traced back to a man in Baton Rouge. Following the chain of communication, the FBI traced everything to Mexico City, Mexico but there the trail abruptly ended.

In Herbert Wilson's home, trace evidence was found of three other girls that had disappeared from the Bender/DeGarde area. Herbert agreed to turn State's evidence, in exchange for being put into the Federal Witness Program.

Unfortunately, though, Hebert Wilson was found strangled to death in his cell before he could be moved to the first hideout.

For her protection and because Dick Davis could not imagine turning his back on his daughter Elise, or on his daughter Elaine when Elaine was alive, Dick offered Rachael safe haven in his home. Carmen Davis, Dick's wife treated Rachael just like a daughter.

The second day she was there, Rachael was looking at a framed photograph of a beautiful young woman wearing a wedding gown and asked Carmen who the woman was.

"That was Lala," Carmen said, a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

Carmen touched the photograph lovingly.

"My Daughter Elaine. She was killed, murdered by that horrible gang, the Angels two seven zero," Carmen said.

"She's beautiful," Rachael said, again looking at the photograph.

That night, as Rachael curled up in the bed, quietly saying her rosary, she realized, she was in Elaine's room.

"Elaine?" Rachael whispered. "Please don't be mad that I'm in your room."

Rachael clutched the rosary tighter as she felt soft hands caress her face, then her belly. The baby started kicking merrily.

"Is that you?" Rachael whispered, fearful.

Soft hands squeezed her free hand

"Holy Mother please help me," Rachael begged, overwhelmed by fear.

A soft pat on her cheek, much like a mother would do to a frightened child and Rachael felt a peace wash over her, a peace she had not known since she was a small child.

The End.

*****

Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure. I post them here for your enjoyment.

Thank you for reading my stories.

Yes, I need an editor.

Yes, it jumps around too much.

Yes, there's too many people to keep track of.

Yes, I suck.

Yes, this was stupid shit.

Have a nice day.