Small Problem -10- Consequences

Small Problem

Part 10

Feeling miserable, I sat in the waiting room of the Hereford Sherriff’s office. I wasn’t alone. There were two other girls with me, sniffling and crying. They’d been picked up like me in a stupid sweep by the sheriff’s department. A county judge had ruled that it really wasn’t illegal to be underage and just drive into the county. When they had sprung their trap, nobody was doing anything illegal.

But they still held us and tried to find any charge that would stick. So, me and the other girls were waiting for a parent pick-up.

My only plan for when Mom shows up is to turn on the waterworks. That always worked for Cathy when she got into trouble. But she’d never been arrested.

I’d never been so humiliated and violated in my life. They prodded, poked, swabbed, and examined every inch of me, looking for some telltale evidence of sperm so Owen could be charged with statutory rape. As far as I know, he was sent home with his dad picking him up a half hour before. I overheard when he was being released that his car was still impounded. The Hereford Sherriff’s department was definitely out to generate some revenue that night.

I finally saw Mom enter the waiting area along with some man. I guess it was her date. Oh terrific. What an impression for her boyfriend… picking up her daughter from jail. I saw Mom point at me and scowl. They walked to the central desk to get me released.

I got the crying started again, but it probably wouldn’t work. The officer at the desk had my purse of which they had removed the contents to put in a baggy. They also took my earrings and the three bracelets I was wearing and put them in a separate baggy. What did they think I was going to do? Mom put the baggies in her purse and put my purse under her arm. She put a report they gave her in her purse.

The man said something to Mom and started walking towards me. He shook his head at me and said in a snarky tone, “How is your little cry for attention going? Was it worth it?”

That pissed me off. I stood up shaking and snarled at him, “I was just violated in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. You don’t know anything.” I burst out crying at the memory of how I was touched.

Mom stepped up next to us. I pointed my thumb at the man and asked, “Who’s the comedian?”

Mom frowned at me. “Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble as it is, young lady? Mr. Carlton and I were just about to enjoy some adult beverages to top off our evening when I got a call from this sheriff’s department. He was kind enough to volunteer to bring me here to retrieve you.”

I must have looked an absolute mess with all my crying so I’m sure I’m making a wonderful first impression. I’ve already decided I don’t like this schumck.

“I’m really sorry I ruined your date,” I said, still crying.

Looking at Mr. Carlton, Mom sighed. “I don’t know what to do with this child. I’m at my wit’s end.”

Mr. Carlton said, “A few weeks at Juvie Hall might straighten her out.”

I scowled at him and said while crying, “I’m a victim of circumstances, not a criminal.”

Mom grunted a laugh. “Her crime is that she just won’t stay away from this one boy who not only is a bad influence and street racer, but a rapist as well.”

I angrily blurted out, “He’s not a rapist! Owen may be an asshole, but he’d never hurt me. Read the report they just gave you. He didn’t do anything.”

Mom sighed. “We’re not going to settle anything standing here. Michael, could you take me and my child home? I apologize the evening went this way.”

Michael said, “Oh don’t apologize. I have a teen son who’s always pushing the limits. Let’s go to my car.”

When we arrived at his car, Michael opened the door for me and slid the front passenger seat forward so I could get into the back seat. I ran my fingers down the door frame of the Porsche. “Nice car.” Michael didn’t say anything.

After we got home, Mom sent me straight to my room. She took my phone, and she even confiscated the power cable to my computer and put it inside her purse.

Mom growled at me, “I’m too tired tonight to deal with your nonsense, little girl. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She slammed the door to my room closed. I sat down on my cot and cried.

*  *  *

I was lying on my cot, still awake, when Cathy snuck into my room. She whispered to me, “Can’t stay long. I don’t want to get caught. Look, sis. I tried to explain things to Mom. She didn’t care. She took my phone and sent me to my room.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t had to get yourself arrested. She’s grounded me from seeing Jonathan for a week. Talk to you tomorrow.”

I cried myself to sleep.

*  *  *

I lay on my cot awake as the morning light streamed through the blinds of my room’s window. I sighed as I heard the latch on my room’s door click. A moment later, it clicked closed.

“I know you’re not asleep, Amanda. We need to talk.”

Gritting my teeth, I slid my legs off the cot. When the hell am I going to get a decent bed? I sat up and glared at Mom. She’s treated me unfairly so much lately that I just don’t give a shit anymore.

“What’s to talk about, Mom?” I asked dourly. “Cathy told you what happened, and you don’t give a shit.”

Scowling, Mom sat in the chair across from me. “How dare you, you insolent child!”

I jumped up and shouted, “How dare you! Why don’t you try showing me some respect? I’m tired of being treated like a child. I’m an adult, for God’s sake. I was married to you, for chrissakes. Stop treating me like some little girl!”

Still scowling, Mom said, “Sit down, Amanda. I treat you like a child because you are a child. I was married to someone named Stan. He was a brilliant engineer and researcher. He was going to change the world and put an end to dangerous surgeries. And then he got selfish and now he’s dead. Deader than a doornail. Little girl, you are not Stan. You may have his memories, but you’re a child. You think you’re a mature adult? That’s really funny.

“Let me buy you a clue. You’re not. You are a very immature little girl. You make dumb and silly decisions. Like last night. Why did you get in the car with that Owen boy? A mature adult would have called me instead. I’ll tell you why. You have a crush on him.”

I jumped up again, “Bullshit! That’s just nuts!”

“Sit down, Amanda,” said Mom in an even voice. “You have a crush on that boy. I saw it in your face when he ran into us at Whataburger. Your expression was unmistakable. Face it. You’re a young teen girl, and he’s an attractive, older young man. You have a crush on him, and my attempts to restrict you just make him more attractive to you.

“Cathy was right. That’s not the way a mature adult would act. But it is how a child who thinks she’s in love would act.”

Frowning, I said, “You’re crazy if you think I’m in love with Owen.”

Mom shook her head. “Do you ever say no to him? That could be dangerous.”

“That’s ridiculous!” I said with a tinge of anger. “He can’t talk me into anything. I may have changed form, but Charlotte, I’m still your husband!”

“No, you’re not, Amanda. You have Stan’s memories. If you’re so mature and can resist Owen why did I have to pick you up at jail in another county?” Mom folded her arms. “You don’t notice things, but I do. Like you and Cathy sitting on the floor doing hair and nails. And giggling at pictures of cute boys. So yes, you’re a child. And there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, you should embrace it.”

I sat on my cot, stunned into silence. Oh my God. Is she right? No. I don’t believe it. Obviously I have the body of a young girl. The docs at the company were probably right that I’m closer to twelve than fourteen, but Charlotte didn’t want me to go to middle school. That explains my more juvenile behavior.

The nanites actually modified my brain which is both incredible and horrible at the same time. I’m me, but not me. I really don’t have the level of control I thought I did. I didn’t identify it that way until she said it, but I do have an attraction towards Owen. There’s something about bad boys. But I do love Chad. Wait. Do I? It sounds silly when I say it inside my head.

Oh my God. I’m having an epiphany. Or is it just a complete and utter breakdown of my identity? Stan is no longer a person that exists. My identity as Stan has just evaporated. He’s gone. I’m Amanda. I am she.

I suddenly threw my arms around Mom in a huge hug. “Oh, Mom! I’m so, so sorry! My mind is suddenly clear. Stan is just a memory….”

Mom smiled at me and looked into my eyes intently for a moment. She said, “He is gone. I can see it.”

Mom returned my stuff to me and told me to go help prepare lunch.

*  *  *

That afternoon, Cathy and I were sitting at the kitchen table playing Go Fish. After a few minutes of play, Cathy looked at me funny. She cocked her head to one side and said, “There’s something different about you.”

I giggled. “I don’t know what it could be.”

Mom stepped out of her room, speaking on her cell phone. “Thanks again, Dr. Patel. I did what you suggested, and now she seems…” Mom glanced over at us in the kitchen. “I’ll have to talk to you later. But thanks again.” She disconnected her call, went into the living room, and turned on the TV.

“What has Mom done to you, Amanda?” asked Cathy. I thought for sure she was going to ask if I had any threes.

End of Part 10