Chapter 2

I'm not really jewish, although I admit, my parents couldn't have picked a more jewish sounding name if they had really really tried. The only part I really hate, is Tiffaney, I mean puleeze. But perhaps they were trying to obfuscate my Mongolian ancestry, Khon is a perfectly respectable name on the steppes. But I am just kidding you, it was my great- great- great grandfather, who was half Chineese and half Mongolian, who gave the name Khon to his decendants. Northern Chineese, you know, the tall, lighter skinned ones. I hardly look like I have any eastern origins, except for a round face, and smooth skin. My eyes are anything but slanted, or showing any fold at the corners. Steetch says I look like an Anime character, my eyes are so large.But if you want to see my eyes narrow, just call me Tiffaney.

Better you should do like everyone else, even my parents and teachers, who all call me Hardcase. If I get riled, I flay them with my tongue, slashing with words their weaknesses and phobias, reducing them to shuddering tears in seconds, I feel really realy badly about it afterwards, and have to use my knowledge of the human psyche to build them up again. Pavlovian response, negative conditioning, make people tremble and stutter when my eyes start to narrow.

Steetch is a great guy, easy going, nice, helpful. He also is dangerous, to himself and to property. The only time he ever hurt someone else wasn't his fault-, the Sensei should have known to never take his eyes off of someone even when bowing. It was beautiful to behold, though, split second timing, the three stooges couldn't have done it better. I don't know who was more embarassed, the Sensei, or Steetch. Luckly I was the only witness, as we were in the Dojo's office. I almost missed it, too, because I was tending to an ailing plant in the corner. It was a bananna bush more brown than green. it needed more than just watering, so I gave it a sprinkle of minerals from my vial of magical dust. Not really magical that is just what I call the ground up rocks that Freaky provides me. He says it is a mixture of every mineral he can find, in the same proportions as occured in the sedaments of the Cretaceous Period, when ten ton dinosaurs roamed the earth, eating vegetation or other dinosaurs who were vegetarians. Pretty potent stuff! Of course, there was half again as much oxygen in the air, which probably contributed to the robust growth. Then again, maybe the increased oygen was the result of the vigorous plant life! But we were talking about Steetch, weren't we?

I know a lot of Steetch's grace defecit is psychosomatic, because he really slays at DDR. As long as it is a game, he is focused enough to overcome his vague awareness of just where he ends and the rest of the universe begins.

I am two years younger than Freaky and Steetch, well, say 21 months. I started early for kindergarten, and then jumped from second grade to fourth grade. I had the entire grade school library read, including the reference section, by the end of fourth grade. I read fast, and skipped lunch. The school librarian, Miss Devon, let me check out wheelbarrows worth of books over summer vacation. I mostly read at night, and explored the wilder areas of the town during the day. So I wasn't involved at first with my classmates. Besides, in the fourth grade, Steetch and Freaky thought girls were icky.