Fancy FrancieChapter 7 free porn video

I got us home in time for a snack and a talk before bed. The trip planned for day after tomorrow was a short one. Two nights. An afternoon, then a full day, then a morning after that in meetings with a couple of customers this time. Seems milk jugs were becoming popular, but more so, very much needed. There was a changing, evolving, threat, and these devices were quick defenses and deterrents. This time they wanted to add countermeasures.

Cheryl told me Monday night that Charlie smiled when she read him the message that included the request from yet another three-letter agency. He’d been thinking of that and playing with the concept. It required another antenna, a different kind, but he thought he could make it work. When he explained the problem to us, size, deployment, direction, all that, I asked him if he thought he could get a small space next to the milk jug about the size of one of those small telescoping purse umbrellas. I went to the back door by the garage and got mine.

“Now, if the wind caught this and turned it inside out, and say this thing was longer, here, for the collector, or distributor, or transmitter ... Eeeek!”

He knew where I was going before I got there. He stood, picked me up and hugged me tight enough to scare me for a second.

“Charlie! Careful! She’s not that sturdy. You’re going to crush her. Jesus, what just happened here?”

Charlie told her, “Francie just showed me how to make a deployable, aimable, uni-directional, broadcast antenna to fill the new requirement. We’re going to need some help with it, but I think it will work.” He set me down and looked down at me. “Thank you, baby. Seriously. Your little idea there, may have just solved a huge issue. Do you want to try to help with the design, or let the antenna people in California handle it?”

“Charlie, I’m still a student. A freaking sophomore. I’m not a mechanical engineer. Yet. All I know is I thought it would look like an upside-down umbrella on a stick, and if you put it on a gimbal or some kind of aiming device, it should work. Most of the time. I don’t know squat about those barrels you’re sending the milk jugs up in, or what kind of attitude they have in relation to mother earth, or anything like that. Best leave this to the antenna peeps.”

“Cheryl, schedule us for a meeting for Friday. At their place. Baby, can you get us to California Thursday night?”

“Of course. What good would I be to you if I couldn’t? I love you, crazy man. Hey, speaking of crazy people, little lady mine, go get the aircraft iPad out of my bag, please. I’m not done getting hugged quite yet, and I need to make up another flight plan.” She laughed at her crazy owners and ran off to get my tablet. “She’s a good girl. Did she get some of that bonus, as an employee, Charlie?”

“Yeah, but since she was so new, and all, she got the lower end of it. You should have seen it in her savings account.”

“I haven’t looked in a while. We’ll have to tell her about it someday. There’s a quarter million in it. Less taxes on the bonus. She needs to know, just in case. She certainly doesn’t need the money now, but she needs to know it’s there, so it’s not abandoned if something happens to us. My baby Sally will need one, too. We’ll do it at the same time, so they can back each other up. It’s possible that they’ll be here some day and we won’t be. I shudder at the thought, but it’s reasonable to prepare for life’s little surprises. Like Grandma did for Mom, you know?”

“Like who did for Mom?”

“Oh, sorry, Cheryl, we were just talking about what happened a long time ago before my father lost his marbles. Didn’t mean to be a downer. Let’s skip it for now. Thank you, doll. Let me see, Reagan to where, thrall? LAX again?”

“Nut. Yes, the antenna people are down the street from the delivery system integrator. Same area. LAX would be best, mistress mine.”

“Kiss me, bitch. I love when you call me mistress, you little slut.” She giggled and gave me a nice soft kiss, running her tongue across my lips afterward. “You kiss nice, too. I love you, Cheryl. Thanks for all your help, and keeping Master Charles organized. That is huge. You are certainly a very good girl. And, life is truly easier in your shadow. That, also, is certain.”

She smiled at my antics and kissed me on top of my head. “You want a drink, Francie?” I got weird on her. She brought me a grapefruit juice and club soda. Yes, she’s a good girl.

“You two are seriously crazy and I am crazy in love with you. Can’t wait until we’re all together for good,” Charlie said, walking by and touching each of our cheeks.

The meetings late Tuesday afternoon were eye opening, and we were tasked, in parallel with a large space company, to make the new two-way milk jug. I need to stop that. It’s not funny anymore.

The intelligence community offered him a shitload of money to make this happen and twenty million up front, ten for the box and ten for development of the antenna we needed. If it worked, it would be a couple dollars more than the last one. We needed it to interject, or interrupt, on an operation, twice, to make it successful, or lose it on the launch. Either way, we’d be fine. We’ve had really good luck so far.

Well, Charlie had his marching orders. I should say we had our marching orders. That night we spent some time at the pool, then went out for dinner. Just sandwiches at a nice place up the road a bit. The next day was spent going over specifics then we were done. Lots to think about.

Back at the room, I called Sally Ann to check in and make sure she knew we were thinking of her. When I told her we had to run to LA tomorrow, she said she’d wave.

“Love you, silly girl. Coming in next Wednesday to get you, right?” She said it was. Right after work. She’d meet me at Signature Hobby for the ride ‘home’. She emphasized that. She told me again to pass her love to the others. I did that as we were changing into swim suits.

Down at the pool we talked and swam, mostly swam. The things we might have talked about, we either couldn’t, or didn’t want to, but we made the best of it, then got ready to go up to change and out for dinner. My phone chimed.

“Capital Grill? 8-ish? Glenda”

“You guys wanna have dinner at the Capital Grill at 8? Enquiring Glendas want to know.”

Charlie said, “Sounds good. I could eat. Cheryl is smiling. She won’t turn down a free meal or a chance to wear a pretty dress either one.”

“Absolutely TY CU”

“(smileyface)”

We went up to the room, romance was in the air, but not enough to get our hormones raging, so after we kissed and rinsed off, Cheryl and I donned stockings, heels, nice lace undies and some sundresses we brought with us, mine in green and hers in blue, naturally. Charlie wouldn’t have it any other way.

We met with the General and Mrs. Anderson, and Glenda, for dinner and had a nice long talk about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. The subject of lady friends came up, so Sally was included in the discussion. We invited the Andersons to spend a very long weekend with us, should they desire, on the west coast, maybe with a fishing trip and a round of golf thrown in. This was looking like something that might happen. Telling them about the charity fishing trip got their interest up as well. We could fly over, pick them up, take us, all seven, to the Fairmont for a few days, have some fun, fly them back and go home. The holidays would be best, since we might all want to get out of the weather anyway. It was a loose plan, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Cheryl and Glenda were on it.

All four of us ladies went to the little girls’ room leaving the General and my husband alone. I thought it may get uncomfortable for Charlie, but they were getting closer, and Charlie told me later that other than the comment about being a lucky bastard, then him apologizing because he knew Charlie’s mother and father were married when he was born, it wasn’t too bad. Cheryl had passed her phone around with the pictures of us three at Perry’s that we had him take of us together. Green, blue, and red, in one and green, blue, and gold in the other. We did look good together, if I do say so myself. The general, Charlie said, used the term really effing gorgeous, but did not censor himself. Nice to know.

With hugs and kisses between the women, and Belinda teasingly calling me a lucky little bitch, we laughed, said goodnight, with urges to stay in touch. Belinda’s comment meant so much more after Charlie told me what the general said. It was funny, you have to admit. And true. On both counts, except the bastard thing. I’ve seen his birth certificate and his parents’ wedding papers going through old files. Funny.

We made love to each other that night, softly, and got some sleep. We were flying out first thing in the morning for a Thursday afternoon meeting at the antenna place. We could meet up again on Friday, and at this time, were setup for one night at the Residence Inn. But, hopefully home for dinner instead of spending the night.

Signature took the plane; they fixed us up with a ride to the Marriott. That same ride was waiting for us to come back down, after registering and dropping our bags off, and take us to the contractors’, then come back for us on our call. The driver said his company would provide for us tomorrow, with whatever rides we needed. Airport, meetings, both, just let them know. Signature to the rescue again.

The meetings almost went well, in that they thought it could be done, and had something similar in R&D at the time. We talked, looked, traded ideas, and again Francie saves the day. “What are we looking at here, anyway? Money wise, for you to help us with this thing.”

The company vice president whispered into the guy next to his’s ear, then got a whisper back. The VP said, “Forty-five million, at least, maybe sixty, and we keep the patents if anything new arises from this.”

Charlie looked at me, I looked at Cheryl. She crossed her eyes. I smiled at her then I looked back at Charlie. He smiled and nodded.

“No, and if any single thing I showed you of my ideas, yet unused by you, sees the light of day from your labs, we’ll own this company as well as ours. You’re gouging us on this, and I won’t stand for it.” I looked at Charlie and smiled. He smiled back. “Sorry, honey, I guess I was wrong. Looks like I AM in the antenna business. Let’s go home. Come, pet, we’re going home now. These people don’t want to play nice, and even though we may have needed them, they’ve made sure to let us know they do not want us as customers.” I turned to the VP. “We’ll still be working together on other people’s projects, Mr. Williams, but be aware, if we have a choice, we will not be choosing to work with you. Good day, gentlemen.”

“Mr. Rawlins, you cannot allow this. This is preposterous,” the VP said.

“Frank, I didn’t allow anything. She owns half the company, and the antenna idea was hers. You’re the one that stepped in shit. Don’t ask me to clean it off.”

“Her? She owns half of Rawlins Systems?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, and record. Meet Francie Rawlins. My wife. She’s a pretty smart cookie in her own right. A very good friend of ours gave us an amount of money to look into the feasibility. They buy lots of stuff and know how much stuff costs. Your stuff is way too expensive, and not only that, but you want to make her stuff your stuff, as well, so ... I think she wants to find someone in St. Louis to help us with this. If you really want to fix this, guys, you have about four seconds. She’s kind of ... Short fused right now. I think you really got her with the patent thing. She had the money but doesn’t want to spend that much of it here with you all. Oh, well. Bye, guys.”

And left. They kept calling to him and he just raised his hands, as if to say, ‘what can I do?’

On the way out the door, I said, “Well, that was interesting. You just allowed a petulant little snot nosed brat to ruin some project worth millions. How in the FUCK did that happen?”

“I didn’t allow anything. You haven’t ruined anything. You want the same speech I gave him?” I shook my head. “I didn’t think so. You are now the proud owner of the antenna arm of Rawlins Systems. Now I need to get Dianne and Cheryl involved in finding you some help. You and your damned umbrella. Shit! I love you, baby. I think this is going to be a boon, not a bust. You’ll see. The agency gave you ten million in seed money to make the milk jug shoot in a straight line. We’ll be fine. You’ll see.” He wiped the tears from my eyes and kissed my forehead. Shit I was scared. I think I know what I’m going to study now. I guess I should know what I’m doing if I own a company that’s doing it.

Cheryl had called for the car before we were out of the conference room.

“Mechanical, electrical, radio, miniaturization we have. I need robotics, babe. Robotics, materials, and oh, shit, electromechanical. Moving parts. I guess that’s robotics? Telescoping cylinders, spokes, controls for the spokes inside the cylinders. Inside them? I’m already lost, and I haven’t even left the house. Screen materials for the antenna dish. Soft so it folds like an umbrella, oh, boy.”

“Well, Cheryl, it looks like she has the bug. We need to find her a robotics guy or two. Make that person or two. No telling how mad she is at men that don’t have Rawlins for a last name. Get on the horn with Dianne. And pray.” He started laughing. Wait ‘til I tell Sally Ann why I was able to spend a whole half hour not even thinking of her once. She’ll laugh her butt off.

We flew home, Cheryl letting Dianne know what was up over the Satellite Phone. Dianne fell out laughing. I was even laughing up in the cockpit as Cheryl explained what the petulant little redheaded brat did in a multibillion dollar corporation’s conference room, just hours ago.

Dianne said she had an idea and got off the phone. Somewhere over Kansas she called back. Cheryl put her on speaker. “We’re looking into it, Francie. Chill out. We’ll be fine. We found a couple other places that can help us, but we have an idea. I want to hire for this, if it looks like we may do it again.”

I looked at Charlie. He nodded and held up two fingers, then made the universal sign of a little bit.

“Two, Dianne. Entry level grads maybe? Robotics? Materials? What are you thinking?”

“The same. Francie, you’re going to be fine. Charlie, I’m calling Sidney. He’ll know someone. See y’all when you get to the shop sometime. Love ya!” Click. I glance at Cheryl then at Charlie. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

The phone rang. Glenda. She asked Cheryl to speak to me. “Hi, Francie, he wants to talk to you. Hold, please.” Oh, shit.

“Hi, darlin’. You can put me on speaker.” I did. “Now that your husband and his admin can hear this, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THIS MORNING IN CALIFORNIA?” then he started laughing. “Sweetheart, you stirred up a hornet’s nest. The president of that company called me and told me to blackball you, and Rawlins Systems, from the, as we love to call it, Military Industrial Complex. He said you were insolent and rude to one of his vice presidents.”

“That part is true, sir. He wanted to steal a patent or two on my ideas, then charge me close to fifty million dollars to sell me my own idea. That guy at the Agency even knew this was an eight to ten-million-dollar gizmo. Anyway, I got petulant and snotty, and was a brat and walked out. The CEO and his admin followed me. THAT was not my fault.”

“Good for you, you petulant snot nosed brat. Good for you. Let me know how it’s going making your own gizmo, and that is not a snide remark. I have one hundred percent faith in the man in that plane with you. Looks like you’re going to wind up impressing me just as much. You guys will be fine. Do you have any contracts other than us right now?”

I looked at Cheryl, she shook her head. Then Charlie, same result. “No, sir, my input is to the negative.”

“Good. For the time being, consider yourselves blacklisted, blackballed. Huge investigation just got started. It will be funny, but since you are now persona non-grata in the MIC, the infamous den of thieves, you’ll be out of it. Something to keep in mind, hon. We offered Charlie’s father, then Charlie, now you, a set amount of money to do a certain thing. That thing got done and got done well. They, and now you, took the money we offered. No more. Only once asked for more, but that was a little special, if you will. You asked these people for help, and they were going to charge you almost five hundred percent more than we offered you for R&D, and we were being generous. We in the room knew that. They stepped on their cranks, because now we know what they’ve been doing to us. If we offer you 80, we have an objective worth 80 to us. If they charge us 160 for the same result, we get incensed. That happened, only you were first up, first on, and first down. THAT, kids, is why the Director sent his boy into that room Tuesday afternoon, and his staff in on Wednesday. You have a job to do. Oh, one more thing. I have you up against the parent company of the shop you crashed. That wasn’t their president that called. It was the parent company. Don’t worry. Just step back and watch the shit fly. You probably won’t even have to duck. Glenda sends her best. Belinda and I do as well. You guys, the ones that no longer exist, keep in touch. We’ll do the get together, soon, I hope. Bye.” Click.

“Wow!” Charlie, saying Wow, once again.

“OH EMM GEE!” Cheryl was obviously having problems thinking.

“Damn.” That was all I could think of.

“Let’s get home. I’m a bit nervous right now, loves.” Cheryl obviously showing her nerves.

“Yes, Captain. Take us home.” Charlie said, always in command. I love him, so much.

We were zombies that night. Thursday night. Looking back, it was a whirlwind. Taking Sally home, them at work Monday, the message Monday night, the directive on Tuesday, more meetings Wednesday, the antenna debacle that morning, the call from General Anderson on the plane that afternoon, now trying to fathom how I, an eighteen-year-old, almost college sophomore, became the COO and principal of the Signals Division of Rawlins Systems, Incorporated. Should have left my damned umbrella hanging on that hook by the garage door.

Friday, we slept late, and all went in at about nine, to the shop. Dianne was laughing her ass off. Her contact in the Pentagon thought it was funny, too, but for some reason, the people she had dealt with at the antenna company on the last couple boxes called and said they wouldn’t be available for testing in the future. OK. She said we could work around it, with Anderson’s assistance, of course. We had a group grope, a brainstorming session, if you will, and Dianne said she saw my antenna vision, she thought, and went nuts on a whiteboard. Yep, I think she had it. We just needed to make it big enough to transmit far enough, and accurate enough to do it in the right place, and small enough to fit into that little space next to the milk jug.

“Dianne, make sure we think square box, not round. It can be a square (I made air quotes) cylinder if you will. The ribs can be designed to use that much more room.”

Dianne’s retort caused an uproar when she said, “Damned petulant snot nosed brat’s a freaking genius.” Laughter. “That just added a couple square feet to storage and square yards to the dish. Wow. Good going, brat!”

The weekend was spent the same way, but I took the mower out with my headphones and tried to forget. Didn’t work. I wish I really did know what I was doing.

Wednesday morning, I headed out for Houston. I gave Sally some generalities of the goings on over the phone, but I’d explain all the weirdness on the way home. She brought a bite to eat on her way to the airport and we split it on the way home. Tamales and a relleno from her friends’ restaurant. She brought enough for all of us for dinner, to include Charlie and Cheryl, who I told her were home cleaning up my mess. She laughed at parts of it. She had seen the General once at the Center, and thought he was a nice guy. I told her to use the sat phone and call Cheryl to let her know dinner was already being delivered.

“Hi, Cheryl, it’s Sally. (Pause.) Oh, no, everything is fine. Just eating a snack and feeding Mum some of it. She’s telling me the story of the week from antenna hell. (Pause.) I’ll bet. Hey, I’m supposed to tell you that Mexican take out is on the way. I picked up six platters on the way to the Airport and I’m feeding one of them to the brat. HER WORDS! (Pause.) I know! (Pause.) I love you too, Cheryl. Kiss Daddy for me, please. (Pause.) I don’t know, hang on.” I told her about an hour to the house. “Mum said about an hour to the house. (Pause.) Oh, goody. See you in a bit. Bye.” She hung the phone up and put it in the overhead holder. “That was fun.”

“It’s a life saver. Literally. They good for Mexican?”

“In more ways than one, according to my horny little sister!” She laughed as I, trying to stifle a giggle, started final into the airport.

Dinner was grand. We’re doing that again. They had it in foil platters that fit in the oven, four at a time and ... Just accept that it was the right answer. Tamales, rel enos, enchiladas, a couple orders of chili verde, just a smorgasbord, and chips and salsa, just like if we were at the table there.

After dinner we sat and talked. She had a replacement and was training her. We were taking her home Tuesday night, and she was working Wednesday through Friday at noon. Then, Ricky and her sister were bringing her and a lot of her stuff to the airport. She knew it would all fit and seemed to weigh about two hundred pounds. There were 4 boxes coming UPS, the next week. She really had it all together.

She was excited, animated, but over and above that, ready, she told us, to be with us.

We talked in bed for a bit, but when we heard Sir Charles snoring, we giggled, kissed each other goodnight, and followed him.

Thursday, we introduced Sally to Beverly. They got along famously. Seems they shared a last name, somewhat, and were probably related if anyone went 23 and me on them. Martin and Martín (Marteen), very similar, and Beverly told us that she was supposedly part Basque and was told she was listed as part Spanish in her ancestry, her family tree, being put together by a cousin of hers. Interesting. I told Bev we’d send the victim back when we were done with her and continued the tour. We got to Dianne’s shop where we got an update on my little corner of the company. Project Totes. A play on the little umbrellas they sold to go into your purse until you needed it. Sorry, that may have been obvious.

I was introduced to a cute little girl and a nice looking, if not a little nerdy, guy. Lisa Jordon and Tim Stanley. They were a young couple just graduating out of Wash U, recommended by a friend of Charlie’s there. They came to work for us to build me an upside down, inside out, umbrella. A little folding purse umbrella that would get really big and really rigid and point it where we told it to point. If this worked, I told them, I was sure we could find more fun things to do. They smiled. Something tells me we hit the jackpot.

They worked well together, and wanted to work as a team, just to see if they would ever get sick of each other, it seems. The answer may just be, ‘no’. They were obviously in love with each other as well as their work. Robotics enthusiasts with a minor interest in Nano-science and mobility. Good Lord did that ever come in handy.

I traded phone numbers with them and asked them to keep me up to date and please ask someone who knew something if they had any questions. We laid out some milestones and they thanked me for the opportunity and went off to work. They ... Thanked ... Me ... This will take some getting used to. I left with my new wife in hand and went back to the offices.

“Oh, God, ladies! I have no idea what I got myself into.” Sally and Bev both laughed their butts off when I fell into the chair and sighed. It was a little funny.

Friday, I had class, and thought I should attend. I left Sally Ann with Charlie and Cheryl, hearing later they dumped her off in her new office for training. Poor girl didn’t get squat for time off. She told me later she was fine and having more fun than she could handle. She said she didn’t understand how she could do this and get paid. Funny. Just wait till the shit hits the fan. Maybe Beverly has some horror stories to share. I’ll have to ask.

We had a wonderful family weekend. We went on a date. A movie date again. Action thriller, trying to keep Charlie from divorcing the whole mess of us. It was a good flick. A sequel of a sequel of a remake of an old TV series. Denzel can do anything, though.

On Sunday night, over a nice steak and potato dinner, complete with broccoli and cheese, Sally Ann Martin made an announcement. “I’ll be home Friday night. I realize my situation, and I’m not in a position to demand a lot, but I have a couple requests. I want Charlie, for you to make love to me next Saturday night. I am to become a wife, of some sort. I understand that part, but not all the logistics. In any case, I want that, and I want Francie and Cheryl, Mum and Sis, to be with me. I hope that is OK with you people, because I’m nervous as all hell right now.”

Class again on Monday. She went to work again. Telling me she was REALLY looking forward to moving now. We were joking again about the antenna thing and I mentioned the VP being an ass.

“Mum, you remember his name, by chance?”

“Williams. Daddy called him Frank.”

“Cool. If he ever gives you any crap, tell him Sally Ann says ‘Hi’ and that she’s still got his wife’s number in her phone.” I looked at her a little sadly. “Yes, Mum, he was down at the Center for an activity and tried to pick up, no, say it right, Sally, pay Miss Martin for her services for the evening. I’ll NEVER forget that slime ball.”

“Holy crap, Batman. I never would have guessed. Wow.”

Tuesday, I flew Sally back. Two and a half days, and I’d be picking her up for the last time and taking her home to be my sister wife, or however this worked out, but she was definitely deferring to me, and I think we needed to keep it that way. It was comfortable so far, and we did not need any issues. Especially right now. She did the kiss on the window thing, from twenty yards out. I only shed two tears this time. I was happy it was almost over.

Wednesday morning, I texted Sally a love thing, then fed my worker bees, of which, technically I was one. I was a salaried officer of a multimillion dollar tech company. Whatever. “Butter or add cinnamon sugar on your toast loves.” I was still the same petulant little brat I was a couple weeks ago, and we had to eat. We had our toast and coffee and I sent them off with a kiss. Class today, again. Making up for time missed, and time yet to miss on Friday.

As I got out of my car in front of the engineering building, I felt something on my face and a really acrid putrid smell.

Sounds. I’m laying down. Hands tied behind me. Feet tied together. Hands tied to feet. Eyes wrapped. What?!?!

“Just kill her, Jordan. Get the money and run. If she’s alive, somehow, it’ll get back to us.”

“Fuck you, Micky. Kill her and we’ll fry when they catch us. It’s already more problem than we thought. They said, ‘no’, Micky. We ain’t gettin’ no money. How the fuck we came to do this, I’ll never know.”

I laid as still as I could. Breathing was hard. Something over my nose. Cloth, rope in my mouth. Drooling all over. Ickkkk.

“Well, fuck this and fuck you, Micky. I’m dumping her and I’m outa this. I don’t want to die for nothing. I still can’t believe I did this. I can’t believe they’d let him die. Him, her. Whatever. I’m done. Go back to the dorm and don’t say a word. Just keep your stupid fucking mouth shut.” He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. “Stupid fucker, ‘just kill her, Jordan’. Stupid fucker. Fucking death penalty. Shit.” He was walking down stairs, my feet sticking out in front.

Play dead, Francie. Don’t do anything stupid. It’s a bear, Francie, play dead. A trunk. God, please let him keep his sanity. Please. More acrid, putrid...

“Miss. Miss, are you OK? Miss?” I felt something on my chest. A man. His head? Voice away. “Miss? Lady? Please?” I felt a hand pushing my hair back over my eyes.

“Yes, we found a girl on the side of the road. Please help us. She’s not talking. Please, help. (Pause.) Highway 61 northbound, just north of the Wentzville exit.”

Sirens. Lights. My eyes. Burning. Oh, God, thank you. I can breathe. I started coughing, and smiling. And laughing, and coughing. I threw up on someone. So sorry. I’m alive. I lived. I played dead and he didn’t kill me. So good. So happy. Charlie. “CHARLIE!! CHARLIE!!” Crying, vomit. Gross. Why, God? Why me? What did I do? I’m alive. I’m not dead.

“Get her covered up. Shock protocol. STAT. Larry. Hurry. Slowly on the board. On my count. One, two, three.”

“GOD DAMN THAT HURTS! DON’T TOUCH ME. Shit! My shoulder. Where? What?”

“Ma’am. Please be calm.” I felt a light touch on my shoulder. I jerked. God, that hurt. “There’s been a problem, but you’re OK now. All right? I’m Trooper Stevens. Can you help me?” I tried to nod. I nodded. I could nod. A little. My neck. Hard. Stiff. Holding my chin. Holding me still. “Calmly, just listen, OK?” I nodded. “Are you Francie?” I nodded. “Good, hon. Can you tell me your last name?”