Chapter 1: Moving

During the early summer of 1993, my life made an abrupt change for the better: we moved. 'We' consisted of my dad, recently retired Colonel John David Bartlett — Jack to his friends — my mom, Sylvia Louise Bartlett, recently retired from teaching, and me, Hannah Louise Bartlett.

We moved from a shabby, overpriced and undersized apartment in Junction City, Kansas, near Fort Riley, to a nice, two-bedroom two-bath bungalow with a detached two-car garage on East Avenue E in Bismarck, North Dakota.

Dad had been stationed at Fort Riley since our return from Germany way back in 1990, and Mom and I had been stuck there while he was participating in Desert Shield and Desert Storm. When he returned from the Gulf in the fall of 1991, he was reassigned to Fort Riley as part of the training cadre. He saw the writing on the wall when Clinton got elected in 1992, and shortly after that he put in his retirement papers.

Mom and Dad were familiar with the Bismarck area because they had been stationed near there in 1987; I didn't remember as much since I'd only been in fifth grade. I liked it because the library, my new school and downtown were only a few blocks away.

By the end of July we'd furnished the house with everything we needed; if you've ever been connected to the military in any way, you know that you're only allowed to take so much from place to place. My parents spent a lot of money furnishing the house the way they wanted it, and I got a new bedroom set: a four poster bed, with a matching dresser, chest of drawers and all new linen. I also had my own private bathroom, which was definitely an unaccustomed luxury.

I used my free time that summer to full advantage, sunning myself at the Elks' pool on Main Street and getting to know a few kids my age. The three of us also went on exploratory outings to many of the local historical sites, like Medora and Jamestown. Mom and I took walks by the river — they have a very nice paved path that runs for miles — and familiarized ourselves with the local shops and services.

In early August, Mom registered me as an incoming 11th grader at Bismarck High School. After three visits to the local stores and the mall, I was ready.

School started that year on Monday, August 23rd, and during that one shortened day I managed to find my locker, get all the required textbooks and eat my lunch. The rest of the week was spent settling into classes and beginning the learning process once again.

I needed one language as a requirement for graduation, so I chose German; I also needed four credits of English or Literature, three of Math, three of Science and one of History. I chose English 3, Biology 3 and Algebra. I was sixteen and wanted a driver's license, so I opted for Drivers' Education, and my other elective was Photography. Physical Education was also required, and my last class of the day was Gym. I figured I'd take World History in my senior year.

I was an Army brat and used to being the new kid on the block; I'd been that so many times it was old hat. I'd come to expect being alone at lunch or without friends for a few days. There are cliques in every school, Jocks and Nerds and so on, and I didn't know exactly where I'd fit in this bunch. There were some Native Americans — I was used to calling them Indians — as well as Farm Kids, City Kids, Goths, Druggies and Others. Keep in mind most of my education had been at the hands of the military, which is strictly run and tightly supervised.

Over the first two weeks, I gradually became friendly with a girl in my German class named Ursula Brendel. One day she and her boyfriend, Curtis Weiss, invited me to eat lunch with them. The tables in the lunchroom are round and seat eight, so I took a seat on one of the four benches surrounding the table.

Ursula said, "You know Curt," and pointing across the table added, "and that's Ernie Kulwicki, Jason Altman and Andrea Colton."

I nodded at each and returned greetings, then explained to those around the table where I'd come from and who I was. Ernie lived a mile or so from Curtis out in the country, and Jason and Andrea lived in town. Jason and Andrea were a couple, and I was told later that Ernie was "available". I knew what that meant, but I avoided coming right out and saying I wasn't interested in him.

I wanted to be friendly but I didn't want people to get too close; I had a secret to keep and used every opportunity to keep it concealed. My secret was simple; girls obsessed me. Not pubescent girls, but mostly women older than myself. I didn't lust after every one I saw, but certain types captured my eye and my heart. In Kansas, I'd been fond of two young teachers in their twenties — one was an assistant coach, the other taught Chemistry — and both had fueled my masturbatory fantasies.

It was more emotional than physical. I didn't lust after a particular shape or size of breast or buttocks like the boys often do; I cared more for their attitude and personality than anything else. An aura of confidence and femininity helped, as did any personal success.

I wondered what they smelled like, how it would feel to kiss them or touch them, and whether —miracle of miracles — they would return my feelings. I'd had several female friends, but none close enough or for long enough to bridge the intimacy gap and initiate anything. I was afraid, too, of being labeled a lesbian or worse; if a person my age didn't fit into some group or other, it got awfully lonely.

Some of the more mature younger ones caught my attention as well, and for that reason I only showered after Gym once a week on Fridays. It is torture to be able to see something you can't touch, and my biggest fear was losing control of my emotions and doing something foolish.

Through the month of September I met a few more people and kept to myself except at lunch. Ernie asked for a date, and took me to a movie at the Cineplex in the mall. Curtis and Ursula made it a double date, which was one of the conditions I set before going out with him. I had to push his hands away from my chest a couple times, but other than that he behaved himself.