Danni Archer Gangbang 2
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"Go get your things," Aunt Jessica said Saturday morning after taking a call. "We're off to see your parents."
"What? So soon?"
"If you'd been speaking to me these last few days," her aunt said, "I would have given you more notice. I told you Wednesday, but you were still upset and didn't listen."
Danielle felt her heart racing and decided to ignore the rebuke her aunt had just given her. She really wanted to see her folks. Her Aunt and Uncle tried to be good parents, but they expected things of her, things they got from Jenny, that she just couldn't give. She wanted to be hugged by her Mother, something she realized she'd really missed.
"Do I need to pack anything?"
"A change of clothes. We'll be coming back tomorrow afternoon."
She ran upstairs, and was back as fast as she could, a small bag with the essentials under her arm. "How do we do this? The same way we got here?"
"More or less. Depending on how things go, we might want to get you a locker at the Gate Building. They only let you do that if you come and go frequently."
"It's a thought."
Her aunt looked at the sweater Danielle took out of the closet. "You do remember it's winter there, don't you?"
"Oh." She traded her sweater for the heavy jacket. "Should I wear jeans?"
"Bring a pair, and a nice pair of slacks, too."
Danielle repacked, and this time her aunt and uncle met her at the door. Jenny, she noted, wasn't coming with them. She was probably in bed with her boyfriend again, she thought, and dismissed the girl.
They took the tram to Terminus, and got off at the Gate Building. Everything had to be inspected, just like before getting on a plane. Satisfied that she wasn't taking anything back with her, they let her through, only to show her into an office.
There was a woman in a dark dress. She gave Danielle an insincere smile. "I'm to go over what you can and can't say while you're there," she said. "Most of it should be familiar to you, but:
1. you can't talk about Three Valleys except in the most general terms.
2. you can't talk about The Project at all. We'll know if you do, and the consequences won't be good for you or your parents.
3. you can talk about personal things, but keep in mind #1 and #2.
"Do you have any questions?"
"Are you always this rigorous with people?"
The woman nodded. "Every time." She pushed a sheet of paper across the desk. "Read and sign this, please."
Danielle did so. It spelled out in detail what the woman had said. She signed, the woman stamped it, and then smiled. "You can go. Turn left and go to the end of the hall, and then follow the signs. Have a pleasant trip."
The signs led her to a waiting room where her aunt and uncle greeted her. "All set?" her uncle asked.
"All warned and signed for," Danielle said.
"We'll go through the gate, and then we'll need to change," Aunt Jessica said. "I was just told that they got several inches of new snow last night, so it'll be cold and a little miserable."
Going through the gate felt like it had the first time: there was a slight tingle, and that was it. There was a window in the next room. Danielle could see snow-laden branches, gray skies, and several cars in the parking lot half-hidden by blankets of white. But it was her world, and she wanted to embrace it.
She'd forgotten how cold snow could be, especially when it got into the top of her boots. Her feet were cold and wet when she got in the car, but Uncle Jack turned the heater on full while he warmed up the engine and scraped off the windows. Danielle remembered something she'd read in a magazine, and took off her boots. She carefully dried her feet and put on a dry pair of socks. She upended her boots over a vent. They wouldn't be dry, they'd be tolerable.
The trip down the mountain was slow. Uncle Jack was obviously taking no chances with the icy roads. The main highway had been plowed, and he sped up when they turned onto it.
"We'll be there in a few minutes," he said. "The road was worse than I thought it would be."
Danielle stared at the snow-covered landscape. Now that she thought about it, people in Three Valleys wouldn't get that much practice driving in the snow. In some ways it was like the people from Southern California. If they got snow, it was only because they were in the mountains. She'd have to visit Center. She'd overheard a couple of girls talking about living there, and how the winters were cold and bitter.
The last intersection coming down the hill was the worst. Uncle Jack put on the brakes, and they slid for several feet until they hit a sanded part. The car lurched, straightened out, and quit sliding. That was good, a semi hurtled past only a few yards away, going way faster than she thought prudent, given the conditions.
The town looked the same as before, a few buildings, a little bit of seediness, and the occasional person braving the snow and wind. The highway only had a few drifting skeins of snow, and Uncle Jack speeded up. There were a few other brave souls out and about, including a road crew that was trying to keep the road open. They'd plowed enough to keep one lane open, and a Highway Patrolman was letting only one lane through at a time.
Uncle Jack sat patiently. They were at the head of the line, and from time to time the patrolman looked at them. Uncle Jack smiled back, clearly not in a hurry, clearly complying with everything the patrolman would tell him.
Finally they got going, passing a long line of cars waiting to head in the other direction. "The traffic is one thing I don't miss," Aunt Jessica said. "I suppose if we ever moved to Center it would be different."
"Have you lived there?" Danielle asked.
"For three years," Uncle Jack said. "I don't ever want to go back. It's not the people, it's the climate. The ice sheet isn't that far away, and it makes everything colder than either of us like."
They were coming up on another town. Uncle Jack slowed and began looking for a parking place. They found one on a side street, wedging in between two mounds of snow that covered other cars.
"The restaurant is just around the corner," Aunt Jessica said as she got out. She slapped her hands together. "It'll be good to get out of this wind."
Danielle hunched as much as she could. Her hands were cold, and the wind was making her nose hurt. She was a creature of warmth. She'd never seen what was fun about skiing or doing any of the other winter sports. She'd gone to a ski resort with her friends once, but after a brief run down the hill on an inner tube, and pictures of her and the others doing that, they'd spent the rest of the weekend naked, partying with the boys. She wasn't sure, but she suspected that weekend led to her first procedure.
The restaurant had a double-door arrangement that was like pictures she'd seen of the airlock on the space station. You stepped inside—the shock of not having the wind cutting through you was profound—you unwrapped your muffler, and then pushed your way into the heat of the restaurant itself.
Her parents were there, and her mother wrapped her up in a hug without even waiting for Danielle to open her coat.
"I've missed you," her mother whispered. "Oh how I've missed you."
"It's so good to see you," Danielle said, hugging her back.
"Let me look at you," her father said. He held her at arm's length for a few seconds, as if inspecting her, and then drew her in for a hug. "How've you been?"
"Busy," Danielle said. "School is a lot of work. I haven't had much time for social activities."
"How are your grades?" he asked.
"Pretty good," Danielle said. "Math is still ... math, but another student has been helping me, and I think my grades are improving."
Her father hugged her again. "I'm glad." He shot Uncle Jack a look. "How are you evading the ever-watchful eye of the Teacher's Union?"
Danielle looked at Uncle Jack, curious. She'd heard her father rail against the Teacher's Union before, but always in private. This was as close to going public with his concerns as he'd ever heard him. And how was Uncle Jack going to keep things secret?
"Privately certified schools on non-public land aren't subject to the California Teachers Union," he said. "It's a loophole in the law."
"And one that they'll try to change if they learn about it," her father said. "In Great Britain they're now inspecting the homes of home-schooled children for 'safety' violations." He glanced around, and then lowered his voice. "They aren't so much concerned about the safety of the children as..."
Uncle Jack nodded. "The competition. It isn't about teaching, it's about their jobs. We've had this conversation before."
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