Chapter 6

Deborah

Tobi being with us has made me realise what it means to be a Mum. Most anyone born with a vagina, ovaries and a womb, can become a mother. A real Mum, not just one who sits outside looking in or does like Graham's did and ran away, not caring about the absolute carnage she left in her wake. Real Mums are hands-on and in-your-face people. Their offspring are a part of them, like their hand or liver ... or heart, in the many guises a heart wears. Like my Mum who I've gradually gained a lot more respect for.

Carolyn and I are discussing just this subject while Graham is with Tobi in the x-ray department and Our Love is emphatic, she won't be like His mother, who Carolyn knew and says everyone knew she was fucking around and ignoring her family to tend to her own body's pleasures; or like her own mother who only cares for herself. Those two were very similar in many ways. Carolyn has one man and one woman and she says is going to be as faithful as a Labrador dog to us, even if she has to learn how to wag her tail. She will stick by Tobi to ensure she is okay, no matter what, and her child from her womb is going to have the best life she or he can have.

Without looking at her, only at the lift door opening, I reply, "Our child from your womb!" I don't just think it, it's how I feel!

She doesn't reply to that so I turn my head toward her and our eyes meet. She looks at me without expression and then tears begin streaming from her eyes, no sobbing or theatrics; then she kisses me hard, her arms around me holding me tightly. "I love you!" she declares loud enough so the rest of the waiting room can hear.

Tobi runs to us out of the elevator door, followed by Graham who's in conversation with the red headed nurse they accompanied upstairs. To my eyes she's gorgeous and I've been watching them closely; very. They are discussing something while He and she are wearing sober faces. He is watching us while they are speaking, taking us all in but he is concentrating on my eyes as I am into his. He has an expression on his face that I want him to have forever. That is love! I can recognise it from a thousand klicks away, that and his care for us. He has a concern for Tobi too, as Tobi wraps her arms around me and gives me a huge hug around my neck, which I return with a bit too much strength. She looks me in the eye, kisses me on the lips then does the same cuddle for Carolyn and He gives Our Woman and Tobi that same look.

I look away from the girls and notice that the redhead has an expression of longing on her face as she watches us. Well, for the life of me... she's jealous!

I lose sight of her when He joins us and wraps his massively powerful arms around us, His three women. He doesn't utter a word; there is nothing he needs to add to what he has just said, which he didn't have a need for words to utter.

So we have Maccas at Rutherford using the drive through, though only to spoil Tobi for having such of a shit of a day. I ask Graham about her treatment for anal warts and he says he has no idea as he couldn't bring himself to watch, but he thinks there was nothing comfortable about it. He shows me his hand and Tobi definitely needs her fingernails cut.

It is late by the time we arrive home. Tobi is dead-to-the-world beside me on the back seat, the only thing supporting her upright is the seatbelt. I undo the belt catch and Graham opens the passenger door and lifts her gently into his arms. She looks minute enclosed within his arms, her whole body only slightly larger than his relaxed bicep. Carolyn opens the front door and I walk straight through to Tobi's room and pull her bed back where Graham is directly behind my footsteps and lays her down, gently and with much care.

Carolyn walks in behind Him carrying a dozen full shopping bags and opens one shopping bag, the one that hopefully contains a new nightie, folding each new raiment into neat stacks on the end of her bed. In the meanwhile she is removing tags and size stickers. We eventually have to open three bags to find the right one. Carolyn and I slip Tobi's new skirt and top off her insensible body, (imagine, we first couldn't get her to go to sleep, ) and pull her arms through her new nightie's sleeves, awkward, and cover her with the sheet. We both kiss her, not that she'll ever know that, then turn the light off. Graham has made us a coffee by the time we join him in the kitchen.

I suggest that I hit the books and He suggests instead that the three of us 'fuck like rabbits', as, if I hadn't learnt what I need to remember by now, I aint gonna in the next two days. He suggests I take the weekend off as the stress just before the exams will ease considerably with him inside me and Carolyn on top of me. I concur with that idea, then suddenly realise I have created a puddle on the vinyl chair and Carolyn is sort of glassy eyed and drooling, and by the wet stain on the crutch of her jeans, both ends.

Us girls hold hands to the bathroom as Graham rinses out the cups to leave them to drain on the rack. He joins us as the water runs hot and enters the shower recess just behind us, Thing's fully erect and leading well ahead of the remainder of him. Carolyn leans down and kisses it on the head, I take my turn kissing my favourite most reliable pet, then we wash each other in turns, two on one. Graham turns the water off and we dry each other as we washed each other although I find it necessary and essential that Carolyn's vagina had no faults or remaining soiling by praying to it, using my tongue inside her pussy, while I kneel on the foot towel.

Thing keeps poking me in the side of my head but I don't know what our Big Fella is doing as I am in complete concentration on my odious task. Her cute little nodule seems to not have been damaged since the last time I checked it out; I suck it in-between my lips then lightly nibble on it. She squeals and instantly falls to her knees beside me. We lay on the tiles side-by-side holding each other with all our might and then we find ourselves being carried as one and placed, still damp, onto the bed together, myself now on top, manually studying in depth the health of her tongue. I hoarsely whisper into her ear, "We love you," as I often have trouble talking as Thing first slides into my body.

Carolyn

I have no idea what woke me. Seeing My people fucked me to within an inch of my life last night I had felt sure that I'd sleep in late in this morning. What is it? The hallway as usual is slightly lighter than the bedroom, because there is reflection from the street lights on the road and through the front windows and half ajar vertical blinds. There is a strange snuffling sound in the door and I realise that Tobi is there, squatting on her heels with her arms around her knees, her head resting sideways on her folded arms. I climb over Our Woman and sit on the floor cross-legged in front of her then she climbs into my lap and I wrap my arms around her naked (?) body. Her voice is tiny like little Christmas bells, almost seemingly coming from a thousand metres away, "I can't sleep. I keep getting bad dreams."

"Where are your new undies and nighty? I thought that you'd really like them. They're so pretty!"

"Too hot."

"Come on. Get back into bed, Little One." She jumped up and was on top of Graham in a blink. Actually, that wasn't quite what I had meant, but it is a bed I guess and she is in it, which I suppose makes her an obedient little girl. She is just rather selective how she interprets my words. Oh well, morning will come soon enough. She is already snoring like a hibernating bear by the time I rest my body back between my two lovers, (I don't care how hot it is I love being right here at night, ) and two of her more adoring fans with my head on the pillow.

Graham is sleeping on his side facing toward Deborah (and me), and Tobi is lying on top of him, a leg and an arm dangling on each side of his gigantean torso, her cheek resting on his. I'm lying on my back and with my left hand hold his sleeping hand and with my right holding Deborah's. Deborah's other hand reaches out and grasps my breast and tweaks my nipple, making both of them pop up, and she murmurs not for the first time this night, "I love you." I suddenly realise that I have tears running down my cheeks as I again reiterate that comment to my beloved woman.

As dawn hits, Graham's massively deep rumbling voice is gently discussing life, and love, and pussy cats, and why the sky is blue. He smells like this because Deborah and I smell like this and he needs a shower. The little tinkling voice keeps using the dreaded word, "Why," and with absolute patience (and I paraphrase) he explains that his car is black because he bought it when he was younger and younger blokes think black cars are sexy and my car is white because I am smarter than him. He doesn't know how long that Tobi can live with us, but if he has his way, it will be a long, long time. No we are not married as only two people can get married and when babies come along he will be honoured if his babies will have his surname. A surname is your last name which in our society usually is the baby's daddy's name but not always. So your last name is Stepvanovich, is it? That's a pretty big name for a little girl, isn't it? Graham's last name is Hey You. What does she mean, no it's not? It can be Hey, You if he wants it to be, can't it? It's not a silly name. When he's at work he gets called that all the time, that and Hey, What's-yer-Name...

Our man has the patience of Job. This discussion went on for another half hour at least.

Stepvanovich, right, the last clue to the puzzle. We've got the cunt then. This man of ours is a demonic questioner of little girls and he didn't even need red hot pincers or the rack. Hey I'm not bad and have done my share of questioning perpetrators but that was a stroke of genius. I reach over and kiss Tobi on the forehead, Graham on his pussy smelling lips, (he needs a shave, ) Deborah on her pussy smelling lips, both smell of my pussy which is my second favourite pussy smell. As I mentioned earlier, they had fucked me to within an inch of my life last night. I hop over my woman, first lubricating her hip by rubbing said pussy up and down it, and rush to the dunny before my bowels and my bladder self-destruct, then to the kitchen where I wrote Stepvanovich on a piece of paper, praying that I got the spelling right; 'v' or 'ph'? No, mid European, almost bound to be v.

I throw a nonmatching pair of trackies on and thongs, going sans undies 'cause I'm a slob, while Deb and Shortarse play with The Runt on the bed. They're laughing and giggling ... well the girls are (for some reason I can't imagine Our Shortarse giggling, call his chuckling, which makes the whole bed vibrate). I find my business phone under my clothes on the floor where I had left them in the bathroom, into the washing basket with them, plus Graham's and Deborah's, after removing the wallets from the back pockets of mine and Graham's jeans.

I suddenly then had an epiphany. The thought struck me like a stroke is supposed to, it was almost blinding: a pregnant woman is a real woman not a woman done up as a man as I was before, so I have gotta get meself some real woman's clothing, don' I? After all, how many pregnant men (or lesbians for that matter) has anyone seen, so My Man and My Woman can have a wife not a weird androgynously dressed It, which is what I have been since I was a tomboy kid. I just adore being a wife and being loved by My Man and Woman! Pregnant, no less; fuckin' pregnant! My whole being is vibrating with this revelation. I sit cross-legged out in front of the house on the patio setting I had bought for Bertha's place that only barely fits here to leave enough room for the front door. It's overcast and looks like rain, while I ring The Boss, to tell him the arsehole's name. He's off-duty so I get Sarge instead and we figure out a spelling together. Sarge's name is Ignatius Vostkericanovic (Iggy), so if he can't work it out, nobody can.

Four breakfasts in bed later, "Don't put your hand there Graham, she'll be back in a second. Oh, not you too Deborah, I'll get real noisy in a sec if you both do that." I got noisy, wet and messy and Tobi didn't make one comment about it later. She probably knows more about it than I do, but with men and my lack of history with said gender, that's not hard. Yes it is, bloody hard! Again! "Behave yourself Graham, Thing is too big to hide. Yeah I suppose you could hide it in me, just not all of, of, of ... oh, oh, oh, fuck! Holy Jesus, I came quick. Thank you Deborah for the offer, but we'll both have to have a shower anyway as we are both full of his shit."

Graham

I don't know what Carolyn's going on about, as I enjoyed myself thoroughly. By the cat that ate the canary look on her face, (there's an accurate metaphor if there ever was one) Deborah did too. I had a second then third thought, but no, 'cause Tobi then wanders in from the toilet. I ask her if she washed her hands. She nods, says "uh huh," then asks me if she gave me enough time and I just kiss and cuddle her instead of answering with a big tickle under her ribs. She giggles then screams with laughter. The three of us adults go in for that desperately needed shower and The Kid follows us. I think it will be all right as after last night's mistreatment and again this morning Thing is unlikely to raise Its ugly head. Okay you bastard, prove me wrong why don't you? We ignore it and The Brat just giggles. It turns out that four will fit in that shower, where I originally thought it was too small for just me. It all depends how friendly the inhabitants want to be. The smallest entities, Tobi and Deborah wore the runoff off the normal size people which saves on using soap. I just need to keep my back to the kid though. If nothing else Thing'll poke her eye out.

Damned elephant!

We went to a lot of trouble to relax the weekend away although Sunday's kerfuffle didn't help any. Monday, on the way to Deborah's high school where the exams are being sat in the multiuse assembly hall, we are so relaxed it's like we're on drugs. It is amusing. When we arrive here, after the five block walk away needed to get parking, we are being followed around like a bad smell by a line of girls who normally wouldn't have given My Girl the time of day. Why are they all staring at me? My Darling just holds my arm and hand even tighter to her breast and ignores all their questions. That blonde is here, parked in a shady nook, looking like she is trying to memorise mathematical equations. Oh boy! Is it a bit late for that!

My Woman and I are almost in tandem as we leave the exam hall accompanied by the other two or three hundred fellow suffers. The desks supplied are so small I had to sit mine on my knees to write on the papers. The scrutineers were mostly amused except for the women who gave me a wide birth. The blonde looks like she has aged ten years over the last two and a half hours.

English tomorrow.

I think I did what I needed to do, as does Deborah. As I had explained to her when I began tutoring her: when you do these exams the object is not to not make mistakes or get 100%, but to achieve the result you need, to attain the goal you are aiming for. If a question will take too long and she doesn't feel she can give it adequate attention to detail, go to the next and if she has time, go back to the missed question and answer it how she thinks the examiner wanted it answered, neatly and with full details until she runs out of time.

If you want to become a MD or do Law those results will need to be pretty damned high. Deborah wants to do Civil Engineering where those kind of levels would be, not only unnecessary, but probably counterproductive as the stress of trying too hard will, at best, make your results worse. Unless she wants to do a Doctorate in Civil Engineering, which isn't in in her outlook. Neither one of us claims to be a genius. Carolyn's the genius 'cause she invented a miraculous baby with very little help from her co-accused. It seems, in The Word According to Deborah, it requires three to create a baby. I didn't know that!

We pick Tobi up from Maitland Police Station where Carolyn has her typing on a spare desk behind reception, and logged into the net on Facebook. It turns out that she has a heap of 'friends' even though she was never allowed to use a computer before she was with us. Rags said she was shocked to find that the only Stepvanovich they can discover in the complete state is a caseworker manager for ... the Department Of Community Services, and fairly high up in the hierarchy. The Campbelltown police have found the school Tobi attended and that the alarm put out by the school due to her disappearance was not being attended to, the school said they were rebuffed at every turn by DOCS when Rags rang the headmaster. She turns out easier to learn about than what was expected. It worries our, now her, new family that DOCS is not impartially involved in her case and she will not be treated fairly or objectively. She's a little kid, for Christ's sake, not a mass murderer.

English is a snack but science the day after does test me, for all my big talk. It does not resemble, in any form or measure, any of the last ten exams which I had trialled myself out on. Deborah thinks it was easy where my reply to her is unprintable. She just cuddles me tightly around my waist after and says that I am just feeling a bit of stress at the moment, but she really, really, loves me anyway. I immediately turn into a melted 'hooman-bean' where stress became a 'has-been'. The science exam finishes at one o'clock and we go straight to the hospital.

Tobi is in a bed wearing one of those weird backless dresses and Carolyn is sitting on the side of the bed and they're reading a Dolly Magazine together. She's in a room with three other children but I notice on passing all the close wards have adults in them. Not one doctor has seen her yet and she has been here six hours already and the nurse at the desk says that that is unusual and we seem to be waiting for something or someone.

That someone turned out to be an officious, severely obese looking bovine-like female entity, jowls and all, like an English bulldog. She has unrestrained shuddering udder-like appendages for breasts and an arse like a married cow or five of both my women put together (all three if you look closer than I care to), came to the ward door and looked over at each child patient, then came (waddled, I can hear her stockinged thighs swishing against each other) straight to Tobi. "Are you Tobi Anita Stepvanovich?" Tobi said she is. "Can I have some privacy please with this young truant; I will call you if I need your input."

If you ever want to get Rags' back up, treat her like she doesn't matter, which is frankly how her mother treats her. "Who are you?"

"Never mind who I am, just leave! You are hampering an official Government investigation!" If my English is inadequate, you will forgive me, but I think that is what's known as getting on one's high horse. With spades, ribbons and little brass bells attached. 'Oh shit!' I said in my mind not willing to look in Rags direction. It's all right, because if she doesn't go off her face at this morbidly obese hag, Deb or I most certainly will. Any second now, just wait and see as we aint goin' any place else, any time soon. As it is, Leading Senior Constable Carolyn Anthea Richardson will win in a canter if it comes to a pissing contest, and on first hand observation I can truly say that Carolyn has bigger balls than this hag has without me needing to do an inventory. I pull out my mobile and made a phone-call fearing the worst ... or is that hoping that the worst does occur?

Our Woman isn't a delicate little petal. Wearing an expressionless visage, she slides off the bed, kisses Tobi on the brow and hugs her giving her a wink, whispers something in her ear, then turns on her antagonist, using her... 'I need to see your licence ma'am and will you please exit your vehicle keeping your hands in sight. Please place them on the vehicle and take the stance -- spread them wider scumbag, now!' sensitive attitude which is why she is so respected in her selected profession. After a 'polite' yet... 'forceful'... 'discussion' about observing identity cards, attempted kidnapping of an assaulted juvenile in medical and police custody, the obese-hag went back on her high horse and I let Carolyn's CI listen to the resultant 'conversation' over my phone.

I don't know if I mentioned it before, but Maitland Police Station is only five minutes' drive from Maitland Hospital, if you jog it, only eight, with sirens and lights make it three. It's a further three minutes from the hospital front doors to the specific ward, if Paris and William run up the stairs and not take the lift, which of course is what they did. I'm not sure if this adequately describes the situation this woman has found herself in but it appears as if she has trod down, hard, on her own dick. This child is not being held as a protected person by DOCS but by the NSW Police Service, as DOCS has refused to take responsibility for her on no less than ten times in the previous eight days.

A week later, Senior Sergeant Ignatius Vostkericanovic reported with a straight face that it took an official Government request from the head of her Department, also signed by the presiding government minister, to free said public servant from the Maitland lockup for the attempted kidnapping of a minor being held in police custody, whilst under official medical care, and threatening guarding police officers with assault while they were attempting to place said attempted kidnapper into custody, causing physical violence in a public place, two counts of refusing to obey police orders to move on ... etc.

Paris had the stations charge book out and in partnership with Iggy and William they were finding charges and adding to them by the minute. Three plain clothes detectives, just hanging around before going on duty, were also throwing their two cents worth in. If they could have got her for walking on cracks in the footpath they would have (i.e. damaging Council property). After she was removed from the hospital precincts using arm locks without feeling the need to be gentle, within three minutes a doctor emerged to begin treatment of The Kid. The look Rags gave him would have curdled milk.

The three of us spent every spare minute we had with Tobi and she is officially under uniformed police guard until further notice, which the other kids thought was really cool, as she has already had an attempted kidnapping made, and it was thought another may be imminent. This is better than going to school. Don't laugh; her father being a DOCS' upper echelon manager in charge of case workers, carries a lot of weight in a hospital. That doctor was simply obeying instructions.

A man, who was immediately denoted by Tobi as her father by her pressing the emergency button like I had shown her, came into the hospital on her third day. He arrived at two in the morning brandishing a DOCS' ID card marked with the name of John Smith. The DOCS card immediately put a bad odour on him with medical staff without Tobi's high pitched scream bringing all the on duty medical staff in post-haste. Tobi told us later with a cheeky giggle that the guarding probationary cop who had just gone to the toilet, which is what her father had waited for, still had his fly down when the young cop forced him to the floor and placed handcuffs on him.

I didn't get my wish of a few minutes alone with him but there were then two DOCS Case Officer Managers in legal custody in the lockup cells for the next week. The father was the fat hag's direct manager, the fat hag was officially a case manager's supervisor, and she was obeying orders using the manner with which she had been ordered by her superior. Therefor the fat hag got out after bail was posted, though the magistrate decided, after reading the supplied police reports and scanning the x-rays, that the father was a risk to the public and an ongoing threat to his daughter's welfare. He was sent up to Cessnock Gaol into The Boneyard (remand), no matter what the Government Minister responsible for the Department Of Community Services insisted on happening. That magistrate is an excellent example of the separation of the Judiciary and Government.