Chapter 3

Jerry Stengall’s story:

I graduated from college. That’s supposed to be a man’s milestone, I’m told. I graduated a semester early. I had a satisfactory job offer and they wanted me there as soon as possible. I left Auburn.

As I said, a milestone. I left my heart. Oh, sure, I know – college-aged male. Supposed to be all dick, all the time, any port in a storm, boinking whenever and whoever, without abandon.

I had that. High school. First year of college. Then somebody walked up to me and said, “Dude, this bunch is looking for a mech-E type to help on a research project.”

“Credits?”

“No, but you’d be stupid not to...”

“Why?”

“3Sigma. Engineering house, electrical stuff, mostly, but they have some students here. Serious brains. You like brains, don’t you?”

“How so?”

“Oh, it’s almost grapevine stuff, but there’s a Cindy Richards and a Nikki Granger in the electrical engineering program that went from high school to masters degree programs in less than two years. They have a lab at 3Sigma Engineering.”

“College girls with a lab? That’s scary,” I said.

“Gets scarier. Neither of them is eighteen yet.”

I got involved in their program. Except it wasn’t a formal program, but I found out that I could actually play with many of the ideas I’d studied.

And they had munchkins. Two when I got started, adding a third. That would be Terri Addison, Rachel Weisman and later, Vicki Duncan. Vicki was a year younger. I met them when Terri and Rachel were nine and heaven help me, they were designing a robot.

Three of them. A blonde, Terri, a very dark brunette, Rachel, and Vicki, hair the color of clover honey.

Terri and Rachel were, in the words of Terri, ‘almost ten’. Building a robot. I’m thinking a lot of things, but most of them involved girls in this age group being enamored of fancifully colored cartoon animals.

I made the understandable error of mentioning that opinion in the midst of a surreal discussion about energy economy in the robot’s mobility systems.

“Anthropomorphic toy animals,” Terri said. “You think I’m supposed to be playing with My Little Pony? Am I supposed to assume, based on your accent, that you tend towards John Deere caps and jacked up pickup trucks? Stereotypes are soooo limiting, Mister Stengall.”

Stereotypes are soooo limiting. Two years I worked with them. 3Sigma was a very successful business in its own right, but the munchkins became a force unto themselves. How do you tell your friends that your boss is a pre-teen with a contract with Google. Or the Department of Defense. And making MONEY at it, and sharing it rather liberally, I think.

Stereotypes are soooo limiting. Ten year olds aren’t supposed to be reading technical papers. Twelve-year olds aren’t supposed to have banked a couple of million bucks from the research I helped with. They’re supposed to speak in short sentences using words of two syllables or less and they’re not supposed to be handing out business cards with pictures of pterodactyls on them because somebody called her ‘pTerri-dactyl’.

Stereotypes are soooo limiting. Eleven year olds aren’t supposed to be mesmerizing with horrible puns and senses of humor that swing from ‘feather’ to ‘sledgehammer’ at a whim.

And you’re not supposed to fall in love with them.

One thing you NEVER do with Terri is underestimate her. I thought maybe I was seeing something between us. I wasn’t sure she was. One day we were working in the lab. I had some things going with an experimental exoskeleton. Terri was across the lab with Vivek Gupta. He’s her number one software guy. They were talking animatedly about something. She touched his shoulder. When she looked up, she saw me.

I guess I don’t hide expressions well, but I felt like the little boy whose girlfriend just took off with another boy. I tried going back to the project on the bench before me, hardly accomplishing anything.

I concentrated. Didn’t see her walk up beside me. she swung her hips, bumping into me just a little bit. To somebody who didn’t know what was afoot, it could’ve been accidental.

I’m not that person. Electricity coursed through me. “Hey, Jerry. Whatcha doin’?”

“Oh, hi. I thought you ‘n’ Vivek were working.”

“We were WORKING.” She emphasized ‘working’ just enough to let me know. “What are you and I working on?”

We launched into a discussion of the mechanical project.

“You and me – we work together well, don’t we?” I said. I was looking for a particular type of smile. It’s there.

We talked more about the odd-shaped objects in front of us. Then, “What’d you do to make your eyes so blue today?”

Her eyes laughed. “Oh, stoppittttt! This is a workplace!” she squeaked. So yes, I know she knows.

I went to talk with her dad, Alan. Alan’s a nice guy, but he’s a dad and therefore expected to be very protective of his pre-teen daughter.

Dana brought me into his office. “Jerry needs to talk with you, Alan. He thinks you’re scary, so don’t be mean.” She made a face, but was smiling as she left.

He looked at me. I was nervous. “Sit down,” he said. “What’s up?”

“I don’t exactly know where to start...”

“You’re not quitting, are you?”

In addition to school and working with the munchkins, I was making a little money doing some project assembly tasks with 3Sigma. Wasn’t much, but it’s an honest block on a resume.

“No. Well, maybe. There’s a situation...”

“What kind of situation? Something unsafe? Illegal? Whatever we need to do ... We like having you around. You work well with the girls ... You’re the adult in the room for some of this.” He looked genuinely concerned.

“I’m trying to be the adult in the room, but the girls, there’s a problem.”

“A problem? The girls?”

“pTerri, in specific,” I said. There. The first step, they say, is admitting you have a problem. Terri’s HIS daughter. This is the part where he pulls a pistol out of his drawer and shoots me right between the eyes. Or something.

“Uh, did she do something?”

“Not specifically, but I get the feeling...”

He stared at me. “Feeling?”

“I think pTerri likes me.”

I don’t know if he’s playing me. “They ALL like you. WE like you. You’re a good teacher, you have patience, you’re very technically adept.”

“I appreciate all that, Mister Alan...” It makes me feel good to hear him say that.

“Just Alan, please...”

“No, I’m gonna stick with Mister Alan for a while. I don’t mean ‘likes me’ in a general fashion. She looks at me sometimes when she doesn’t know I’m watching, and it’s different. Like she’s ... I dunno ... she’s appreciating me. Different. Not just Jerry the technical support.”

“You think she’s attracted...” he said.

“Yessir. And please, please, PLEASE understand that I NEVER ... I mean, we all laugh and talk and get really happy together when things work, but I never ... Not any of ‘em. I’m twenty. pTerri’s eleven.”

“I know. Jerry, pTerri’s sort of asked questions ... My daughter’s turning into a young girl – young lady. Noticing things.”

“Mister Alan, I never ... I wouldn’t...”

“I believe you.”

“That’s the tough part,” I said sincerely. “I really like the girls. I love what I’m doing. This is an opportunity I never dreamed of getting. But pTerri...”

“My daughter...”

“Yessir. Your daughter. I like pTerri a little bit more. She just stands out. I think I’m ... my best bet is to stop showing up here. Go find something else.”

He paused for a bit, silent. “Jerry, I really wish you wouldn’t go somewhere else.”

“You didn’t hear me, sir. I ... pTerri...”

“I doubt that she’s going to accost you in the broom closet, Jerry.”

The thought sort of startled me. “That’s sort of my nightmare. I would NEVER.”

“She won’t. I told her – make that WE told her, Tina and I – that the laws are very specific and harsh concerning such things and that she’d get YOU in horrible trouble...”

“Don’t I know it,” I told him. “I knew a guy when I was in high school. Thirteen year old girl. He was eighteen. Wasn’t pretty...”

“She knows that. YOU know that. And Jerry...”

“Yessir?”

“She’s eleven. Eleven year old girls are not known for long-term relationships.”

“Sir, respectfully, this is Terri. Eleven year old girls are not known to attend college.”

“We’ll talk with her. I will tell her that YOU talked with me.”

“Sir, I LIKE pTerri.” I couldn’t say the word I really was thinking.

“I understand that.” I sighed. “We’ll manage this.”

“Sir,” I said. “I’m an honorable man. I don’t want Terri hurt.”

“Your leaving unexpectedly over this would hurt her. You’re right. My daughter. Damn straight I’m protective, Jerry, but I’m like everybody else around here when it comes to Terri. We don’t know what she’s capable of, and we don’t know what she’s thinking, and we’re just very happy that she’s come to us talking about YOU already.”

“She talked to you?” I asked, incredulous.

“No, but she talked to Tina and several of the others. You’re not a particularly well-kept secret...”

“Oh, geez,” I said. “I never wanted this...”

“I’m perfectly sure that you didn’t wake up one day and think you’d pursue my daughter. Nobody says that about you. Nobody remembers you as being particularly, uh, active in the last year or so.”

“No sir,” I said, hanging my head, remembering what I had been. “I kind of looked at what I was and decided that wasn’t what I wanted to be.”

“Sobered up,” Alan stated.

“Yessir. That, too.”

“Look, I sort of understand some of this, Jerry. Here’s what I want. I want Terri NOT to be hurt. I don’t want you engaged in a felony. I don’t think Terri will push things hard, and I KNOW you won’t, will you?”

“No, sir.”

“Then don’t quit. Don’t quit anything. Keep being the guy that fits so well into our team and into the Munchkins’ team. And you’re aware of what’s going on, so watch yourself and watch my daughter. Heaven knows what she’ll come up with next, but I can pretty well guarantee it won’t jeopardize you and her.”

Two days later, we were in the lab. I’d just finished stripping off a pair of chemical gloves after working with Vicki and Rachel on a carbon fiber layup. They finished the removal process and bounced off. I was peeling off the Tyvek sleeves I’d worn. I turned around. Terri.

“Hey, punkin,” I said.

“Hey, Jerry. I heard you talked with Dad.”

“I did. I get kind of scared, Terri.”

“I know. I talked with Tina and Cindy and Nikki. Then Dad talked to me. I didn’t want to get you in trouble, though.”

I looked at the object of my affection. Yes, I guess talking with Alan kind of coalesced the idea. “I know there’s something, Terri...”

“You do? Really?”

“Of course I do. And if you didn’t think I knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”

“No,” she said solemnly. “And you’d look at me just like you do Rachel and Vicki. But I know there’s a difference.”

“Do you really?” I asked her.

She nodded, bobbing that blonde hair. “Nobody tells me I’m wrong. Do you want to tell me I’m wrong?”

“You’re the pTerridactyl and ‘wrong’ is not something you do very often.”

“Not about important stuff. And you’re important. I want you to know that, Jerry.”

So very solemn. Unusual. She glanced around. Nobody else in here. She bounced, hooked a hand behind my head, pulled me down and kissed me. Wasn’t a peck, either. Nope, no tongue, but yes, as real a kiss as I might expect from an eleven year old.

“Terri!” I gasped.

“I know. Shouldn’t. Did.” The eyes flashed blue fire. “Just so you know.” She turned away, then back to me. “Know something else?”

“What?”

“You’re the first boy I ever kissed.”

“That’s wonderful, Terri. Come sit down,” I said, patting the bench beside me.

She did, hands folded primly in her lap. “Are you mad?”

“No, baby,” I said. It was out before I realized that I’d said it. Her face beamed.

“You called me baby.”

“Yes, and that’s exactly what we need to watch. One of us isn’t going to be thinking and something gets out. Terri, it’s just plain dangerous.”

“Not for me to just kiss you.”

“Even that,” I said. “Because people will just naturally assume other things are going on, too.”

“I know.” Back to solemn Terri.

“No, please don’t be sad, Terri. That’s the last thing I want. You can be ‘it’ to me and I can be ‘it’ to you, and we can both know that, but we just can’t really do much more.”

“I’m it?”

“You’re it.”

She smiled. “Thank you. You might be treating me like some weird kid...”

“You’re the very weirdest of kids, Terri. That’s probably what did it. Twenty year old guys don’t usually go for eleven year old girls.”

She smiled. “Let’s go before they send out a search party.”

“We’re okay?”

“Very okay,” my little girlfriend said.

And I left that behind to go to Houston for work.

Oh, graduation. Terri was there. Of course Mom and Dad were there, but Terri was there.

After the ceremony, Terri made a beeline for me. Right there. She stood next to me. Introduced her to Mom and Dad as my boss.

What?!? I couldn’t very well tell them she was my girlfriend.