Chapter 11: the Retreat - Sunday Morning

Fred stopped in front of us. "Yeah, I know. I'm breaking the rules again."

"It doesn't help your chances to make the team, young lady." Linda said quietly.

"Can I talk to you, Laura? Privately?" Fred asked.

"We can talk in my room. It's just around the corner."

I led the way, shoved in the key, held it open for her. "Would you like me to leave the door open?"

She gave a short laugh and shook her head.

I let the door swing shut, waved her to the chairs.

Fred looked around. "I was expecting you would have nicer rooms than us."

"Nope, all the same." I said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to make the team."

"I think you have a lock on it, Fred, if you can get a handle on the rules. I think you can relax."

"Amy and I..." she said. Her eyes had been on mine, now she looked away.

"The two of you spent some time together," I told her. "That's all you have to tell anyone. Details... Too Much Information!" I said it as good-naturedly as I could.

"I never pictured myself doing those things." Her eyes met mine. "It was a lot nicer than I thought, a lot."

I was surprised. I had trouble believing Amy would push Fred. But something had happened between the two of them beyond just talking. Maybe I should have given Amy a test on my 'don't move the barriers' speech.

"Just remember that you want to leave options open as much as you can; don't draw lines in the sand," I told her.

Fred half-smiled at me, she didn't look really happy. "I hope no one ever entrusts something really secret to Amy; she is really, really ticklish. She'll do anything to make it stop." Her eyes held mine.

"It's wrong for anyone to tell secrets, it's wrong to push, Fred. Amy's had some problems with people pushing her; they were hurting her." Actually, of course, I wanted to take Fred and toss her in the lake, outside the hotel. Amy really didn't need someone doing what Fred had done.

"I'm sorry, Laura. It was like a snowball rolling down hill; it just kept going and going; it wasn't until she started to cry that I realized how bad I'd hurt her. I..."

I got up, walked through the door, leaving it open, and down the hall. How much damage had Fred done?

I knocked on the door to Amy's room, after a second Gail answered it. The fire in her eyes took me aback. The fire died quickly. "Sorry," she said, "I thought you were that bitch, come back to gloat."

I could see Amy, buried in her pillows; even across the room I could see that she was crying. And hear it.

I turned to Gail, who was, at least, dressed. "Gail, go down the hall, tell Linda I've asked you to tell her to stay with Fred, who's in my room. Then go wake Marybeth and Nancy and have them come here."

Amy heard me. "Please! Oh please! Don't! Please! It wasn't her fault!" Amy spoke the words, but couldn't stop crying.

"Screw the little bitch," Gail said with heat, and then turned to me. "I got ripped today for what I did to Amy; they were right, I was wrong, and I deserved it. That girl is not only wrong, she's crazy." Still Gail turned and went down the hall.

I walked over and sat down next to Amy, who promptly wrapped her arms around me, crying buckets. After a second, she tried to collect herself. "Please don't hurt Fred."

"Amy, she hurt you. What she did was unconscionable."

"She's scared; she's hurt; she didn't understand what she was doing."

Marybeth had come in the room just before Amy said that. She sat down a few feet away from us on the bed. "Then, dear Amy, we will teach her the error of her ways."

Marybeth met my eyes. "Gail gave me a lurid description of... something. I couldn't quite get it straight."

"Next time you're in the field and need to ask some questions, get Fred to ask them," I said bitterly.

Marybeth started to open her mouth, stopped and then paled.

"All she did was tickle me," Amy pleaded. "Please, all she did was tickle me!"

Nancy came in and heard the last bit. I saw Gail, hovering in the back ground, obviously trying to eavesdrop.

"Gail, please, a favor," I asked her.

She looked at me.

I continued, "Please ask Linda to come here and bring Fred along. Nancy, can you trust Gail to patrol the halls? Like deputized?"

Nancy nodded to Gail. "You know the rules. If someone gives you a hard time, knock on the door. I'd appreciate it."

"All of us would," Marybeth added.

Gail left, and a few minutes later Linda and Fred came in; Linda closed the door behind her.

Fred was weeping, so was Amy.

"The two of you, grow up," Marybeth said, her voice harsh. "You screwed up. If you learn nothing else tonight, learn one thing: screw-ups happen. You aren't any good to yourself, your teammates, or to anyone at all, if you can't deal with it. Enough with the tears."

I could see Linda was a little surprised. I grinned to myself. Well, it's connect the dot time for you, Linda. It will be interesting to hear your take on this later. It's about time you figured things out.

Marybeth went on after the two settled down a bit. "I've dealt with civilian courts; judges and attorneys. I have worked with military courts. God bless 'em, you have to have a special dispensation to get a real lawyer.

"Military courts don't have a lot of the trappings the regular legal system has; that isn't to say they aren't fair. In fact, they are much more fair if you are innocent, than a civilian court.

"So, we'll use the military model. There are two parts in a military trial: first what they call the specifications, then the charges. Specifications consist of what happened, as close to an objective recitation of the events as we poor mortals can make. Then the charges, what particular individuals did during those events that was wrong.

"Amy, tell us what happened."

Amy paled.

I reached out and hugged her. "Just tell us what happened, leave everything else out," I told her firmly.

"I wanted to be with Fred. I asked her to come to my room." She met Nancy's eyes. "I made love to her; she made love to me. We made love to each other. It was nice; it was Fred's first time and she said she really, really liked it.

"We were laying in bed, just snuggling, after. She found out I was ticklish. I asked her to stop, but she kept tickling. 'Tell me if I'm going to make the team, ' she asked, 'and I'll stop tickling.' So I told her, yes she was. Except she didn't stop, she didn't ask any more questions for a while, but... I just wanted her to stop. I asked, please, pretty please stop. And then she asked another question, and another..." Amy was in tears again.

She stopped, wiped them away. "I'm so sorry for being a cry baby."

"Fred, your turn." Marybeth said when Amy had calmed down. "Tell us what happened, from your point of view."

"I'm not stupid," Fred said. "Oh God! How many times have I said that, so smug! I am stupid!"

"Fred," I interrupted. "What happened?"

"I wanted to know if I was going to make the team, it means so much to me..."

"Fred," Marybeth spoke, Fred looked at her. "We just want to know what happened. We will ask why, later. We will be fair, we will hear you out, but first we need to know what happened. If you want, you can just agree that Amy's story is right. But you need to speak to what happened, not how you feel."

"It was like Amy said. I figured out what I had to do to get on the team. But, Amy is so nice. Oh God, I'm so sorry! She's so nice, and it wasn't what I thought at all; so after she made love to me, I made love to her! Oh it was so marvelous! Then we did it together! It was beautiful; I've never been happier in my life. No one has ever been as nice to me as Amy!

"But, later... I just wanted to know anything else that might help me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" In spite of the admonition about tears, she was a running faucet, drops falling off her chin.

"What kind of questions did you ask, Fred?" Nancy asked.

"Amy had made love to me; it was my first time, I could figure it wasn't her first time. I asked who she'd been with."

"And she told you what?"

"About the people she liked, who she didn't like. How she didn't like most of the people on the team. She never was with you that much, she didn't like Linda, Coach was okay. But with Laura, she..." Fred's face fell. "It was so good, Amy said. Laura cuddled her, hugged her. It made her feel important, wanted. And Laura didn't care if they made love or not; she just wanted to be Amy's friend."

She looked at me. "You made me feel that way, too. That's when I knew I'd done something terrible. I... I... I ran away, I could hear Amy crying and crying and crying... I don't know I can ever make it right..."

Marybeth looked at Fred and then shook her head. Fred nodded and stopped talking.

"I'm going to tell everyone a little story. It's not a very nice story and will probably upset you. When you start feeling upset about it, think about why you're listening to it. Then think about what the story means to you just now."

She gestured and the two girls ended up sitting next to each other on the edge of Amy's bed. "My husband was a real secret agent. Really. He worked for the CIA, spying for our country against other countries. Sometimes, though, the people who do that sort of thing have to spend time training other people to do it. Do you understand?"

Fred's eyes, in particular, were huge. Both girls nodded.

"Other times, he had to evaluate people who were going to work in jobs like his. A little like what we are doing here this weekend.

"Once, a group of men, Army Special Forces, were going to be sent into a hostile country. Ten of them, a major, two captains, two lieutenants and five sergeants. The newest sergeant had been in the army for a dozen years; so he wasn't really new.

"They told those men that they were going to do a field exercise. They were dropped from a helicopter, told to walk twenty miles, while 'enemy' soldiers were looking for them. This is a regular exercise, pretty routine, everyone knew how to do it.

"But it wasn't really what they expected. What the army really wanted to know is what would happen if the enemy captured them. My husband was in charge of finding out.

"They knew where the army men were going to be, they hid in the woods, when the army men got close, and it got dark they snuck up close to the army guys.

"There's this thing called a 'flash bang' grenade. It's like the biggest flashbulb you ever saw; the loudest firecracker you can imagine. They tossed a half dozen into the camp. If you have your eyes open the flash blinds you for an hour or so. Unless you are wearing ear protectors, you are deafened for an hour or two. It is really stunning; even if you are expecting them, it's shocking.

"They weren't very nice to the men. They kicked them, they hit them, made them take off their clothes... all of their clothes. They splashed cold water on them. You understand, this was a test to see what they would do if they were ever captured?"

Fred's head bobbed, Amy just stared.

"They went looking through the army men's things. They found some comic books in someone's pack. Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck comic books. 'Who's are these?' they asked and no one answered. So, one of the men with my husband, tore one of the comics in two.

"One of the army men, a man who'd been in the army nearly fifteen years, who was the second highest grade of sergeant there is, started telling them please, please don't hurt his comics.

"'Tell us your mission!' my husband's man asked. 'Tell us!' He held the comic book up, ready to tear it again. The sergeant pleaded and pleaded, but he wouldn't say anything. The man tore the comic in half again."

Marybeth was silent, looking at them. "The sergeant started crying, screaming. He told them everything."

"Oh jeez!" Linda muttered. "For a comic book?"

The look Marybeth gave Linda was enough to freeze the Pacific Ocean. Linda made a little zipping motion across her mouth.

"The interrogator took the comic books and ripped them all to shreds. The sergeant barfed, peed himself, let it all go. Pooped."

The room was silent, there were no sounds. "The army told the sergeant he had to quit, so he resigned. No one was ever going to want to work with him again." She looked at the two girls. "Would you like to guess what else happened?"

Quite suddenly I knew; my estimation of Marybeth went up two more notches.

"My husband fired his man. Tearing the comic book the first time, that was okay. It was within the rules; it's important to know these things, lives and our national security are at stake. Comic books can be replaced. The second time? That was okay too; the sergeant had started to break, but hadn't yet. It was important to know.

"He should have stopped there; even tearing the one book again would have gotten him fired. All of them? As bad a mistake as the sergeant's."

Marybeth nodded to Nancy. "Coach."

I got the distinct impression Nancy wished Marybeth had kept going, that she had stayed in charge. Then I remembered what Marybeth had said about what she'd like me to do when school started. I contemplated that and then decided that I might as well start now.

"I know I'm new here," I said while Nancy was girding her loins. "I know I have no authority, no real right to speak up. But Coach, I'd really like to deal with this."

I gestured towards the girls, sitting pale and tear-streaked on the edge of the bed. "Amy is a very special person to me. I wanted Fred to make the team. I think it is partly my responsibility about what happened."

To her credit, Nancy looked at me, not Marybeth. "I'll listen to what you say, then I'll decide, okay?" she told me.

"The whole package or you do it," I told her.

"Let her, subject to review," Marybeth told Nancy. Nancy nodded.

"Amy, look at me," I said quietly to the young girl.

She did.

"Do you know what you did wrong?"

"I told things about people."

"You did. I grant you, some of the people you told on, aren't as nice as they could be. Some, like Gail, went way too far. They got in trouble, Amy." Amy nodded.

"Still Amy, they are your teammates. Telling Fred a little... that's what you have to do, if you want to be on the team, and helping the new girls adjust to what they have to do if they want to be on the team. But you went further, you told bad things, as well as good things. You told Fred about me, about Linda and Coach. Those things... well, the team understands; most others wouldn't. Even just hugging and snuggling for a night."

Amy had turned deathly pale. "Do you hate me?"

"You made a mistake, Amy. If I hated everyone who screwed up, I'd have to hate everyone in the world. Loving them, Amy, is much better."

"I'm sorry I hurt you, that I hurt the team." She looked at Nancy. "I'm sorry Coach, Linda."

"Amy, look at me." She turned back to look at me.

"My husband was killed on 9/11. I was talking to him on the phone when he died. What do you think I'd say to one of the men who did that to him, to so many others, if he told me he was sorry?"

Fred leaned close to Amy, whispered something very quiet in Amy's ear.

Amy looked at me. "Sorry doesn't cut it."

"No. Nor does 'I'll promise I'll never do that again.'"

"Fred said to say, 'I learned something today.'"

"Have you?" Marybeth interjected.

"A lot." Amy was sad, very sad. "I want to be on the team, coach. What can I do?"

"Right now, Amy, you need to sit quietly and let me talk to Fred," I told her.

Amy fought back tears, but I was mainly intent on Fred.

"Fred, I have to say, thinking about what you did makes my skin crawl. I want to take a shower."

"I promise I will never do anything like this again," Fred said. "I understand I can't be on the team, I understand why. Please, I told Amy I was sorry; I realize that's not enough. I want to do things; I will. I will do anything you want to make it right. I'll forget everything I heard."

"Did you and Amy talk to each other? Personal things? Family, friends, clothes, music... that sort of thing?"

"Yes. I... Laura, please. I hurt someone I care about. I didn't mean to."

"Fred, did you talk about your family?"

"I told her they'd never understand, they'd never approve of half the things I want. I meant it: I didn't care about them. Amy..." She started sobbing. "Oh Amy, please forgive me..."

I saw Amy start to speak, to reach for Fred. "Amy, if you say a word, if you move... you're off the team," I spoke quickly.

Amy paled and then froze.

"Tell me Fred, what did Amy tell you about her family?" The blank stare spoke volumes.

"Oh, she didn't talk about them, did she? Guess why not? She doesn't have one," my voice was rough, harsh. "She's a foster child. Guess what else? Amy is extraordinarily lucky, she has foster parents who really care about her." I waved at Amy. "Do you like your foster mom?"

It was pretty awful. Amy just came totally unglued, crying and weeping again. I nodded to Marybeth, and she sat down next to Amy, holding her, stroking her hair, whispering soft thoughts to her.

"Pretty crappy, eh?" I told Fred, who was sitting staring at Amy, her face pale. "But, consider this: Amy's foster mother has two kinds of cancer. They think she's beaten one, but the other will kill her in a year or two. Consider also that the government has decided that Amy has been with them long enough. After school's out, they're going to find a new set of parents for her.

"Fred, I'll tell you true, I don't know any state social workers, but I'm as sure as I can be about one thing: none of them would dream of saying they were sorry. For what? Doing their job?"

"Do you think you could ever make up to Amy for what you've done?"

"No." Abject surrender from Fred. And about time.

"Tell me, Fred. In a few months, Amy's going to be torn away from people she loves. What would you do?"

"I don't understand."

"You said you're not stupid. What would you do to stop that? To help your friend?"

"Find some way to stop it."