Chapter 20

Still Tina's turn:

We're all sitting in our living room – me, Terri, Alan, and Mrs. Angela Weeks from the state's Child Protective Services.

"Mizz Weeks..."

"Please. Angela, Mister Addison."

"Then I'm Alan," he said. "I know where the state's heading with the 'home schooling' biz. Alabama's a lot more strict than other states, but this is what we were advised to do when Terri was evaluated by the school board in Tennessee."

I know that Alan deliberately left off the fact that we got the same advice from our local school board. Those people are our friends and we don't need to give the state any reason to question their activities.

He continued. "They practically BEGGED us not to put her in a regular classroom. I and Tina concur. There are many disrupting factors in a classroom. Terri might not be one of them, but she wouldn't be getting the room to progress as she's gotten with this bunch."

"This bunch..."

"Nine degreed engineers, two masters, two doctoral candidates, one BA in Business Administration, one PhD in sociology, and that's just the people that live in this complex," I continued. "In the extended family, we add a BS in Computer Science and a BA in Secondary Education, and several college students. Plus, Terri's extended network means if she wants another view on the subject, she has several contacts on campus. Terri, show Mizz Angela your other business card."

Terri whipped out her 'pTerridactyl' card.

Mizz Angela scrutinized it. "Cute. Where did you get the idea?"

"My OTHER aunt, Johanna Jackson. One day she called me 'Terridactyl'. I added the 'p' because the REAL pterodactyl has one, and I wanted one in my name in honor of one of my favorite authors, Sir Terri Pratchett. I've read many of his books."

The lady's eyes flicked between me and Alan. "How does the letter 'p' honor him?"

"He's got a great sense of humor, and one of the characters in one of his books was 'pTraci'. That's 'Traci' with a 'p' because he was writing about a society that was bits of ancient Egypt and Greece." Terri sighed. "I mourned when he died."

"So much for reading," Mizz Angela said. "I get the feeling that when I called, you folks started giggling."

"No, ma'am," I said. "We went through a lot of effort to make sure we were completely legal when we set this up. We're proud of our daughter and how we're attending to her education, even if 'attending' is like watching an eagle soar and saying that I 'attend' to his flight."

"We talked," Alan added. "We suppose that in the course of your work, you see a lot of stuff that doesn't meet decent standards."

"You have that right," she said. "That's why I originally said 'no' to coffee. Some of the places ... But then I looked around..." she looked at Terri. "Terri, tell me in your own words – Are you being properly schooled?"

"Oh, no, Mizz Angela," Terri said. "As soon as you leave, they put me back in the dark closet."

"Terri!" I squeaked.

"You're used to being able to learn, aren't you?" Angela asked Terri.

"Yes, ma'am. Music to mathematics. Science to social studies. I get it all from people who love it themselves."

She smiled. "You people aren't who the state is interested in."

"I didn't think so," Alan said. "But everybody's got a job to do."

I cut my eyes to Terri. She caught the look. Smiled angelically. She knows when to keep quiet.

"I am going to write this whole morning off as a bureaucratic wild goose chase. It has been a truly unexpected experience." She looked at Bot-bot. "robot..."

"Tell 'im 'hi'," Terri said. "Use his name." Bot-bot's head swiveled to Terri, because she was the only one talking.

"Hi, Bot-bot!" Mizz Angela said. Bot-bot immediately turned his eyes to her and did his happy beep.

"Tell him to come see you."

"Come see me, Bot-bot."

Bot-bot whirred over to position himself in front of her and sat.

She was enthralled.

"Tell him to do you a happy song."

"Bot-bot, do me a happy song."

Bot-bot did his 'okay' beep, then played a MIDI version of Clarinet Polka.

"Uh, Terri," Mizz Angela said, "Why do you make him sound like that? I mean, music technology is a lot better than that?"

"I know," Terri said. "But we wanted him to SOUND like what people think a robot's supposed to sound like. But we do some other things. "Bot-bot, go to your station."

Bot-bot swiveled his head, looked at Terri, and I swear his shoulders fell and he doesn't even HAVE shoulders. He did his little whine, and puttered away playing a dirge.

"My goodness."

"My 'pTerridactyl' card has a fold-out USB drive. Plug it in any time and you can see our videos."

"Oh, this 'un's getting passed around if you don't mind..."

"Go ahead. We have it on YouTube," Alan said.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "You can even type 'bot-bot' into the search box. If you type in '3Sigma', you get Bot-bot plus all our musical excursions and a few other things."

Mizz Angela sighed. "You know, you people aren't the ones I'm supposed to be looking for."

"You said that," I said gently. "I understand what happens in some cases. Where I was living before I met Alan, there was a mom 'home-schooling' her kids because she couldn't make herself get out of bed in the morning to get them off to school. One of 'em was ten and I bet good money that he couldn't read a second grade book."

"I've seen some of those, even with the laws we have on the books. Parents have to care..."

"We care," Alan said.

"Yes, that's apparent. I see no need for Terri to go through the testing, assuming that the people at the School Board will corroborate your statements."

"Ask for Mizz Greybill. She's been working with us since we moved here. Wonderful woman. Cares about her job."

"I like Mizz Greybill," Terri injected. "She thinks we're crazy here. Dad, is it okay if I get Rachel an' Vicki now?"

"Sure," he said. He turned to Mizz Angela. "Do you want to see Terri's peers?"

"My entourage," Terri said. "I can get 'em over here. We're supposed to be doing some geometry today."

"There are MORE of these?" Mizz Angela asked.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Wait."

Presently the door popped open and Vicki and Rachel came in. They saw Mizz Angela and stopped.

Terri handled the introductions. "Rachel is MY age. Vicki is a year and a half younger." And they bounded off to Terri's room.

"None of 'em would be any less than that top percentile in intelligence," Alan said. "We actually had them tested at the university."

"But they look so normal..."

"I knowwww," I said. "It's almost surreal. Terri and Rachel are bringing Vicki up to speed on some basic geometry. Until two months ago, Vicki was in regular public school in California."

"How's she fitting in here?"

"It's like releasing a captive tiger back into the wild," Alan said. "Terri takes it upon herself to lead Vicki in the right directions. She doesn't push, she just sort of guides ... would you like more coffee?"

"Oh, no, thank you, Alan," she said. "This was very good, though. I guess I'm finished here."

"Sorry we wasted your time."

"Oh, no, YOU didn't waste my time. You've made my week. This has been quite the experience."

"We're glad you feel like that," Alan said.

We saw her to the door. As she walked to the car, I turned into Alan's arms. "Well, I can stop worrying now."

"You were worried?"

"Baby, it's the government. I always worry. So many rules, you KNOW we're breaking some of 'em. All it takes is a bureaucrat with a burr under 'is saddle..."

"I know," he said. "I was worried a bit, too. Now I'm not. Until the next time."

'We'll survive that one, too, baby," I said. "We're doing the right things – the GOOD things. And we're completely legal."

"And look what fun Cindy and Dan got out of that."

I giggled. "But that was Tennessee. We KNOW about Tennessee, don't we?" With my arms around his neck, I whispered, "Baby, did I ever tell you that winning makes me very, VERY aroused?"

"The girls are in her bedroom, baby," he said. "But if you hold that thought..."

I slid one hand away from his neck, down his front and... "I'd rather hold this..."

"Good god, Christina," he sighed.

I kissed him lightly. "But you're right ... sadly, longingly right..."

"Dammit."

"Girls, we're going to the office," I announced loudly.

"Gotcha, Mom," I heard from Terri's room.

Naturally, our arrival at the office precipitated a flurry of questions, all to be happily answered.

Cindy was giggling. "Can you IMAGINE?!? There she is, fresh from her last visit to a trailer at the bad end of a dirt road, and she pulls in HERE?!? And interviews the pTerridactyl?"

"Terri let Bot-bot do most of the talking," Alan laughed.

"I don't think we were what she was looking for," I said. "And now that the drama's over..." I walked into the cubicle I shared with Cindy and turned my computer on. I'm an engineer. There's work to be done. The big monitor's got one of our client's drawings on it, and I'm making a materials list for MY discipline. It's the big boxes – circuit breakers, switches, transformers. Cindy behind me has the protection and control stuff. One would think that keeping the power flowing to make civilization possible would be more exciting.

One would be wrong. Still, I knew it was coming. I talked with Alan many a day about what his day actually looked like, and 'standing in the midst of chaos, orchestrating order from the ashes' didn't figure into it very often.

Next, I'm on the phone with the vendor of the circuit breakers. At a neat six figures apiece, I want some concessions. I already have us getting a good price, pointing out recent orders and the promise of future business, but along with that, I want them to toss in some free training as well. I get five slots. I know that two of them will go to our company and I'll give the client the option on the other three. Maybe I'll go to one of those training sessions, but probably not. Three days out of town, tack on travel at each end, I wouldn't do it without Alan. Or maybe I could get one of my sisters. Something to think about.

I'm thinking a salad for lunch. The Desais have a couple of good options, something with cucumbers and yogurt and indescribable spices that won't give my stomach a lot of trouble. Morning sickness is tough, especially when it lasts till noon. At least today's been a light day. I've just been queasy, not grabbing the toilet and puking. Ginger ale stays on my grocery list and there's a stash of the stuff in the office fridge.

And crackers. Saltines, to be specific. If I've had a really bad time, then a dab of peanut butter and a nut or two. And what Grandma used to call 'ta-tas'. Yeah, I know that 'ta-ta' is also a euphemism for tits, but Grandma wasn't about that, she was about me laying my sick head in her lap and patting me and making soothing sounds.

Alan's good for those. So's Terri, if you want to know, but I'm afraid that she's writing a chronicle of my pregnancy for future use. She asks questions. 'Is it triggered by certain smells? Does movement trigger it?' And cures. 'How does ginger ale figure into your symptoms?'