Chapter 11

By Wednesday, the Program participants had settled into a routine. Well before the first session began, Bob gathered the proctors for a little meeting with the goal of regularly moving the proctors to different stations. It was clear that, with their specialized skills, Liz, Jeff and Matt were tethered to their posts, teaching the gymnastics and judo. Matt mentioned that he was doing double duty, supervising judo and the pugil stick work.

The four who had proctored outdoors all agreed that the outdoor work only required two proctors. Karen and Gabby chimed in that only one proctor was required in the Home Ec arena and that they would willingly alternate, allowing the other to work elsewhere. Katie and Kevin said the boxing work did not require two proctors and, in any case, the students were able to do their own workouts without much intervention from proctors. The group decided to make an effort to rotate themselves through the remaining stations.

Bob confessed his inappropriate pleasure in having introduced Heather, Shannon and Mary to the pool, and apologized to them profusely. None of them would hear of it, charging instead that it was Bob's respect and dignity that had helped them overcome their inhibitions and to become comfortable. This talk plainly raised Karen and Gabby's radar to high alert. "What are you talking about?" squeaked Gabby.

After the rest looked at each other for a moment, grinning wickedly, it was Shannon who delivered the awful explanation that the uniform of the day in the pool area simply was not -- that nudity was enforced in the pool area. Both Karen and Gabby were of course horrified. Plainly enjoying her opportunity of delivering rather than receiving such bad news, Shannon went on to recite essentially the same speech she had received from Heather. With a great deal of support from the rest, both Karen and Gabby surrendered to their fate.

Gabby especially was petrified at the prospect of meeting her daughter Sarah at the pool for the first time. The entrée was irresistible to Shannon, who gleefully reported, in excruciating detail, on Bob's first meeting of his daughter Sandy. Bob was of course mortified, but bore up well, abjectly confessing the veracity of every painful detail. He even shared Sandy's elegant rescue, reminiscing about the trip on the Pullman coach. The entire group was in stitches for a good long time. When they had recovered themselves, Gabby and Karen had been able to steel their resolve, although serious doubts remained. The rest assured them that only about five minutes were needed to overcome any problems.

That settled, they began to schedule themselves. Kevin opted to remain at the boxing station at least long enough to meet and prepare all the others for proctoring that segment. Gabby urged Karen to do likewise in the Home Ec department. Bob and Kevin were granted exemptions from assignment there, both being utterly helpless with sewing. Gabby was given her choice of whom she wished to have in the pool area with her for her first time. Deciding -- with a gracious smile -- that Shannon had had enough fun already at her expense, and very reluctant to face a man her first time, she prevailed upon Heather to be with her. Heather graciously agreed, and they both decided to begin their day in the pool, so Gabby could get her ordeal over with while she knew Sarah was in her academic section.

Katie chose her first assignment outdoors. Shannon agreed to join her. Liz and Jeff were on gymnastics. Mary wanted to cycle herself through the Home Ec department first. That left the pugil sticks for Bob. Matt countermanded, recommending that Bob get in a session with Kevin before someone took the pugil stick proctoring. They broke up their meeting and headed for their stations.

At lunch, Amy was drafted to prepare a written schedule for the proctors.

Amy had set to work early in the day on a newsletter for the community. Her lack of creativity caused her to struggle.

She reported on the success of CAP card scanning process, and encouraged people to get theirs scanned as soon as possible.

She remembered that family members, especially females, living out of town were wanted as part of the extraction. She wrote a blurb reporting that at least 17 females, and an unknown number of males, were known to be returning but that only one had yet arrived. She added text encouraging town folk to invite their children and other family to move back to town. She even discussed the slim opportunities for males with CAP scores too low to volunteer.

She went to some length to explain that the Program could possibly be cut short by the Confederacy, with the extraction occurring early and on very short notice. She encouraged the town folk to get their family members home as soon as possible. She reminded everyone that the CAP cards of new returnees should be scanned as soon as possible.

She encouraged folks to begin formally establishing their family groups via the database. She repeated the instructions written earlier.

She wrote a fairly long passage about including adults in the Program. She wrote that the Core Group had rejected the idea of establishing some selection process and instead had opted to open the Program to any and all who felt their participation might lead to success. She advised interested adults to contact herself or Jean at the school for details. She cautioned that the prospects of success for dedicated participants were unknown, even by the Confederacy, but were thought to be slim.

She praised the students participating in the Program and reported much progress and much promise.

She advised the town that elements of the Program for shooting training and paintball exercises were being actively planned, with the hope that these would be ready for launch in the coming days.

She reported on the effort to obtain one or more CAP testing centers for the town.

Satisfied, and more than a little surprised at her output, Amy printed her report and asked Jean to review it. Jean wanted the town folk to pass along to her any items that should go on the agenda for the next town meeting. They wrote it up together. After some minor modifications and re-ordering of paragraphs, Jean pronounced it done. She thanked Amy profusely for her excellent work. Amy beamed and set about printing a large quantity of copies for distribution.

At the end of the day, Jean buttonholed Michael and told him that the newsletters were ready for distribution. Michael collected them and headed home to call in his cohort for the work. Within hours, all of the newsletters had been distributed.

Bob was in the boxing area before the first kids arrived. Kevin had him suit up with a full set of gear, including a mouth protector. Kevin did the same. Kevin could not resist a gibe about Bob's incident the day before, with a snarky remark that Bob seemed to have the fine art of brawling well in hand. Bob simply grinned shyly and shook his head.

"All boys learn about fighting, but not many know about formal boxing," Kevin said. "Maybe you already know the drill: keep your hands up, keep moving, watch my eyes, enough shots to the upper arms or the abdomen will drain your opponent enough to open his defenses. Let's spar a bit. No power in your punches. If you land good ones, I'll acknowledge."

Bob, having last worn boxing gloves in high school, was stiff and ungainly at the beginning. But he was surprised that, after only a few minutes, he felt his motions becoming smoother. Kevin, of course, had been sparring off and on for two days and was far more proficient. The first team to arrive found Bob and Kevin squared off, sparring. Dropping his guard and turning to the kids, he said, "Get your gear on. Bob's here to learn to protect himself so he doesn't take another whuppin' like he did yesterday." Everyone laughed. The kids started to suit up.

As soon as the kids were finished getting their gear on, they paired off and began to spar. Bob was pleasantly surprised to find the matchups were all boy/girl. The boys seemed genuinely to want to help their girl teammates to learn. The boys made a point of not taking advantage of their longer reach, much less their height and weight advantages.

Before 8:30, there seemed little more for Kevin to impart to Bob. Kevin removed and put away his gear, stood for a few moments, and moved on to a new station of his own. Bob stood by, observing the sparring, and wondered why no one had thought to obtain a heavy punching bag for the room. He made a mental note to ask Dave about it.

The first team ended their workout, removed and stored their gear, and left the room. It was fully ten minutes before the next team arrived. Bob helped make the time pass by 'sparring' with a cinderblock wall in the room, again wishing for a heavy bag. The next team in thought Bob's hitting of the wall somewhat strange, but said nothing as they suited up.

This team paired off with only one pair as boy/girl. The boy/girl pair was at one end, the girl/girl pair was in the middle, and the boy/boy pair was on the other end. After observing for a while, Bob found that this, too, had advantages. The pair of girls were sparring with much more ferocity than he had seen the earlier boy/girl teams use. The boy/boy pair was plainly working on technique and the weight of the blows was modest. The two girls were not hurting each other -- the protective gear saw to that -- but it was plainly difficult for each girl to control her anger, to turn her anger into true aggression. As their anger increased, their technique became increasingly sloppy.

At a signal, the pairs re-formed. Each of the two girls in the middle moved to a different side. One of the paired boys moved to the middle, and the girl from the boy/girl pair joined him. They started to spar again. Plainly, the boys on the end were working more than anything on getting the girls to re-center themselves, to calm themselves and to restore their good technique. Bob was deeply impressed.

Again, the pairs re-formed. This time, the two boys on the ends stepped into the middle. The other two pairs made no pretense of working together, instead watching the boys in the middle. This time, the boys meant business. Solid punches were landed at every opportunity. Oddly, Bob thought, the boys commented to their audience on what they were doing, and feeling. They did not talk much -- concentration was required of them both. But the comments were plainly useful, the girls occasionally nodding with new understanding.

After a few minutes, the two boys called a brief halt and turned to their audience. The back and forth conversation was plainly helpful, especially to the girls. Soon, they again paired off, this time in all boy/girl pairs, and worked on technique.

The team ended their workout and began to store their gear. Bob checked the time and wondered whether another team would arrive this late in the session. Still in his gear, he went into the next room to observe for a bit.

Matt was dividing his time between his judo students, who were practicing their technique at safe falling, and Kevin and the team on the pugil sticks. Kevin wore the same complete set of protective gear as Bob's and was casually holding a pugil stick. Matt wore only his judo uniform. Kevin concurred with Bob's remark that the late hour likely meant no more business for the boxing area until the second session. Kevin volunteered to stand watch over the empty boxing area, in case they were wrong about an arriving team. Matt agreed to give Bob a lesson with the pugil sticks.

Matt collected a pugil stick and gave Bob an overview of the technique. Soon they were sparring in slow, deliberate motions. Matt spoke to Bob the entire time, making recommendations, warning of a coming motion, advising on foot placement. Owing especially to the slow and deliberate pace, but plainly also due to evident skill and experience, Matt was able to block all of Bob's attacks. Not so with Bob. None of Matt's blows were hard, but Bob could tell that that was only because of Matt's restraint.

Presently, their sparring ended. Matt said that the rest was simply a matter of practice. By this time, the student team had stored their gear and left, headed for the showers. Bob thanked Matt for his help and went back to the boxing area.

Kevin had shed his gear and put it away in the boxing room, although it had come from the adjacent room. He invited Bob to shed his own gear and join him for a cup of coffee. When Bob agreed, Kevin excused himself for a quick pit stop. They rejoined each other and headed for the cafeteria.

By the beginning of the second session, Bob was back in the boxing area, this time sans gear. And of course the first team to arrive was Sandy's. Her face shone with surprise and delight. After glancing around to ensure enough clear space, she executed a forward flip. The landing was wobbly but she was evidently pleased with herself. Bob laughed and applauded. She made to curtsey, smiling shyly but brightly.

After the kids had geared up, Bob saw yet a third configuration for training. The team split in half, a pair in each half squaring off and beginning to spar, the third observing and delivering running commentary in support of both the fighters' technique. The blows landed were solid but not vicious. The girls, especially, had to work as hard on maintaining control over their rising anger and frustration as they did on the fighting technique itself. The observers spoke calmly but firmly, directing the fighters to keep themselves centered and under control.

Sandy's opponent was much older, much bigger and much heavier. He clearly had great advantage of reach, able to stand out of Sandy's reach while delivering punishing blows of his own. Her observer teammate kept encouraging her to step into her opponent, to use his arm length advantage against him, to take the fight to him. Tears of frustration and anger running freely down her face, Sandy did as instructed, determination painted on her face, and to good effect.

They called a break, huddled the entire team together, and discussed what had happened. The praise lauded upon Sandy made her shyly beam. Pairs re-formed, this time with boys paired and girls paired, with Sandy and a boy as observers. It was evident from her remarks that Sandy was learning as well as teaching.

The school maintenance man entered the room, pulling carts holding a heavy boxing bag and sundry tools and equipment. He and Bob discussed placement of the heavy bag. Once a decision had been reached, the man set about installing the supporting framework in the ceiling.

Soon enough, another team trouped into the room. Seeing their peers, Sandy's team called a halt to their workout and began to shed their gear. On her way out the door, Sandy stepped in and collected a big hug from her dad. "I love you, Dad," was all she said before skipping out the door.

Before the next team had finished getting their gear on, Jeff walked in. Complaining of boredom now that the kids had only to perfect their gymnastic technique without much need of his guidance, he asked Bob to 'show him the ropes' of boxing proctoring and then trade places with him. With a nod from Bob, both began to suit up.

When they had finished, Bob suggested they observe the students rather than simply sparring. Bob was surprised at the quantity of useful information he was able to impart to Jeff as they watched. Only when his store of knowledge and observations had been exhausted did they square off on each other and begin sparring.

Jeff was younger but in excellent condition, the strength needed to perform his gymnastics plainly evident. Not least in his own defense, Bob instructed that they should concentrate on good technique. He radically slowed his punches, explaining as he went. Jeff immediately followed suit, saving Bob's body from the strength of Jeff's blows.

When Bob had imparted what little he knew about boxing to Jeff, he shed his gear and put it away. After parting remarks, Bob headed to the gymnastics room. When he arrived, he found three students doing headstands, away from the wall, holding their position for an admirable length of time. The other three were practicing somersaults, the trampoline abandoned in favor of the step stool.

One of the boys called "pyramid!" Without hesitation, the entire team assembled themselves in a three-tier, hands-and-knees pyramid in about ten seconds. Laughing in delight, the kids looked to Bob for approval. He was unstinting in his praise and admiration. With a wicked grin, the boy in the middle relaxed his right arm and threw back his right foot, collapsing the pyramid onto himself amid screams and shouts from the whole team. The heap of surprised but unhurt kids untangled themselves, laughing accusations.

After the briefest of visits with Bob, the kids got back to work. Liz joined Bob, and they discussed the goings-on in the room. "This looks like a sure-fire way for an old man to break his neck!" laughed Bob. As though to prove his point, Liz executed a perfect back flip and then did a handstand. She laughed as she resumed her footing, agreeing with Bob.

With a wave to Liz, Bob next made his way outdoors. There, Sarah's team was just finishing a tour of the balance beams. She saw Bob and approached. "Hi there, Bob!" she chirped. "We're headed for a run. Will you join us, please?"

Bob shrugged and followed Sarah toward the football field. The rest of the team ran ahead. Sarah hung back, falling in with Bob as he began to trot. They ran in silence through an entire circuit of the field. Finally, Sarah simply said, "I wish my dad was like you."

Nonplussed, Bob did not answer for a while. "Your dad's a lot of man," he allowed. "What makes you think I'm not an ogre in my own domain?"

She snorted. "Ogres don't worship their wives. Ogres don't treat their daughters like a princess."

More jogging in silence. "Guilty as charged," he finally said.

More than half a lap around the field passed before either spoke. Out of the blue, she said, "Thank you."

After waiting for more, and realizing that no more was forthcoming, he answered, "You're welcome." A few yards down the field, Bob asked, "Thank me for what?"

Sarah turned her head and smiled at him. "Thank you for all of the effort you have already put in for us. Thank you for your dedication."

More yards passed in silence. Then Bob said, "I thought you meant 'thank you for saving my life' or some such. I've been accused of heroism recently. I'm no hero. I'm just a guy who loves his family more than life itself, and would pay any price for their safety."

"OK, you're no hero," she allowed. "Maybe someone else would have thought of it eventually. Your idea took the town by storm. Maybe if someone else had spoken up, you'd still be here today, huffing and puffing, trying not to pay attention to the way my tits bounce as I run. Not a hero, but certainly deserving of our heartfelt thanks for everything you do, everything you are."

Caught ogling the beautiful young woman running alongside him, he blushed and stammered an apology.

"I do not accept your apology," she huffed, grinning. "I am pleased with your positive appraisal of my young body. Without a word, you made me feel desirable. You have rewarded me more than you know. Lots of boys check me out, but I can see the desire for conquest in their eyes. Afterward, I might not even get a 'thank you, ma'am' from most of them. They make me feel ... dirty."

A lot of turf passed under their feet before she spoke again. "I've been thinking a lot about two things from the meeting last night. They've woven themselves together, and I can't stop thinking about them. One is the fact that our extraction may come far sooner than we'd planned, and quite suddenly. The other is Jean's report about the terror felt by the virgin girls in school."

Bob waited for her to continue. Presently, she did. "I've heard the girls talk in school myself. The girls aren't going to wait, and risk their first time being in public."

A few paces further along, she said, "I need to ask you to help, Bob." Then, blushing crimson, "Well, I don't need your help. But a lot of girls do. They don't have a dad or brother to do the deed. Their boyfriends would be shouting it from the rafters the very next day, and they'd be whores. Breaking the damn flap with a hairbrush or something does not count as your first time. Soon, they'll be in bed with their lord and master, and two or more other women, always wondering if it had to be that way.

"A girl needs to be a princess on that one special night, Bob. They need a caring, attentive lover to help them to the most wonderful night of their young lives."

Gobsmacked. Bob was simply gobsmacked. They ran in silence for quite a while. "Sure, Sarah, have 'em call Kathy to schedule an appointment." He snorted.

"You'd do it, then, if Kathy went along?" she asked.

"That's like saying I'll do it when pigs fly," answered Bob. "You've put me in the position where either I refuse to help girls who sound like they really need it, or I destroy the love and respect I so desperately need from my wife."

"Now you underestimate Kathy," said Sarah. "I admit it'd be a tough sell if you brought it up to her. But Bob, her heart is nearly as big as yours. I'll talk to her. I got you to agree, didn't I?" she giggled.

"No wonder you're senior class president. You're a hell of a politician, Sarah." She blushed.

"You know, don't you, that she'll be right there with you, every step of the way? This will be her gift to the community, her gift of womanhood to a lot of girls."

"A LOT?" he croaked.

"Do the math yourself," she smiled. "Some girls are easy. Some are sexually active, but discreet. Some have tried once or twice. But most girls, especially the younger ones, are still virgins."

More yardage passed as they ran, woolgathering. The kilometer mark had long since passed. Bob was surprised that he had not yet collapsed. In fact, he was surprised that he was not even terribly winded. The rest of Sarah's team had long since headed indoors.

"Now," said Sarah, "I need you to consider for a while, and then make a recommendation. No, I don't mean you, although I wish otherwise. Bob, I'm starting to think about the family I'll be building soon. I'm especially worried about who will be the dad for all our kids. I don't mean the father. I mean the dad.

"I'm going to be the sponsor, Bob. I don't want to ever worry about having to fight for my position against a male concubine. I don't want someone like my father. I don't want a boy. I want a man with quiet strength, who will support me and the rest of the family all the way. A kindly grandfather type, maybe, gentle but no pushover for the kids.

"Will you chew on that for a few days, or a week, and tell me who might fit the bill?"

Bob smiled at her and nodded. They finished up their run and went in.

Megan had finished collecting all of the CAP card scans of the town folk. She turned her attention to the task of finding the right people to join her mom and dad's combined families. They each needed a 'motherly' concubine, and those women were supposed to be youngish.

That was not a lot of guidance. She tried to find a rational approach for her search. Young mothers would have young children. So, she realized, perhaps searching through the children in the database would be fruitful.

Before she began to search, she made some notes. The criteria for the 'motherlies' included five years' childrearing experience, whether with a five-year-old or with kids whose ages added to five; a CAP score of 5.0 or above; and 'good maternal sub-scores', whatever that meant.