One evening, while Frank and Jenny were talking to their supervisor, an unusual situation came up.

"I have received a request from Joanna Wilson. She wants to visit her father," said James Carpenter.

Frank and Jenny looked at each other, with concerned expressions. "What do you think?" Frank asked.

"Well, as you know, visits of family members to Penitatas serving their sentences are allowable solely at the discretion of the Department of Corrections. We usually leave that decision up to the host parents. How do you feel about it?" James replied.

Still uncertain, Frank looked again at Jenny. "I don't know," said Jenny. "While she hasn't been cooperating with her correction, she hasn't done anything significant to be punished for recently."

Frank added, "Nothing seems to get to her. Maybe seeing her daughter might have some effect. I don't see how it can hurt. Can you?"

"No, I can't. I talked to her myself. She said that she understood that we didn't have to grant her request. I asked her what she wanted to talk to him about, but she said that it was a private, family matter. I'll be honest, that does concern me, but I can't think of anything that she could say to him that would make the situation any worse."

Jenny, apparently making up her mind, responded. "Give me her identification code, and I'll call her to make arrangements. Maybe she can come out next Saturday."

James said, "I'll send it right over. You know that she is in foster care, as well. At age 19, she has just short of two more years until her majority. When her father was convicted, he automatically lost parental rights, so the court appointed a guardian."

Jenny suddenly had a disturbing thought. "Does she know Dani's situation?"

"Yes, I discussed with her the century issue," James replied, "and that her father was now a six-year-old girl. She was a little shocked, but seemed to recover ok. She is living about 200 miles away from you, so it shouldn't be a long trip."

Several days later, Jenny had Dani dressed in her best clothes, and had her hair brushed to a lustrous shine, and kept out of her face with two enameled combs. She was sitting on the couch in the living room, staring down at her hands with a look of concern or fear on her face.

Jenny had tried to comfort her, and she had come the closest to opening up to her "Aunt" that she had since her rejuve. "I'm scared," she had said, holding unto Jenny tightly.

"There is nothing to be afraid of," Jenny had replied. "This is your daughter, someone who loves you. You'll do fine." Jenny didn't know how much it had helped, but that was all she could think of to do.

The knock on the door caused Dani's head to come up with a jerk. Jenny got up, went to the door, and welcomed Joanna Wilson into the house. When they entered the living room, Dani was standing, looking uncertain of what to do. Jenny was also nervous. But she didn't need to be.

Joanna just went right over to Dani, got down on her knees, and grabbed her up in a tight embrace. Dani's hands flew around her as well, and they both hung onto each other, very tightly. Both seemed to have tears in their eyes, and Jenny's eyes weren't exactly dry, either.

Joanna finally broke the embrace, and stood up. She was on the tall side, at 1.75 meters, and very athletic-looking. Her dark red hair hung down to mid-back, and her blue eyes and light complexion gave her a refined beauty, with very little makeup. She spoke first to Jenny.

"Mrs. Roberts, thank you for letting me make this visit. I know you didn't have to, and I appreciate it."

"That's quite all right," Jenny replied, smiling, "we are glad to have you here. Can I get you anything? How about some lemonade?"

After getting three glasses of lemonade and bringing them back into the living room, Jenny was confronted by a request she had expected to hear.

"Mrs. Roberts, I don't want to offend you, but would it be ok if my father and I spoke privately?" Joanna asked, tentatively.

"Sure. And, please, call me Jenny," she replied, with a smile. Then, she went back into the kitchen, to give the Wilson's some privacy.

After visiting for about an hour, Joanna had to leave to go back to her foster parents' home. There were some tears at the farewell, and Dani was very quiet thereafter. She went straight to her room and closed the door.

Jenny decided to give her some time to herself to deal with the emotions caused by the visit. After about 15 minutes, she decided to check on Dani. As she opened the door, something solid hit her in the throat.

Now, normally, a six-year-old child can't throw anything with great force. In addition, there was nothing solid in her room, nothing that might be used as a missile. However, Dani had carried the tumbler of lemonade back into the bedroom with her, without really thinking.

The tumbler wasn't made of glass, of course. Such a material would be too dangerous for a hard-time Penitatas. But, even though it was made of a high-impact plastic, it had a heavy base (to help prevent spills). Even so, Dani shouldn't have been able to do anything more than cause a large bruise with the object in question.

The point of impact, however, couldn't have been worse. The base of the tumbler, a solid mass of heavy plastic, hit edge-on, right on Jenny's throat, and broke her larynx. It swelled up almost instantly, squeezing and blocking her windpipe. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe.

Her hands instinctively flew to her throat, but there was nothing they could do. She tried hard to breathe, but couldn't get any air. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. She knew that she needed to call for help, but without being able to speak, she couldn't get the computer to make the call.

There was the comconsole in the living room. It still had buttons, and she could punch in the emergency code from there. She had fallen to her knees from the blow, and she started to crawl towards the living room. But, she was weak from shock and lack of oxygen. Her head started to swim, and she fell down on her chest.

Suddenly, she felt herself being turned over on her back. Spots already appearing in her vision, she looked up at Dani. Something was very wrong. What was it? Oh, Dani shouldn't have that sharp knife. He wasn't allowed to handle knives. They were all locked up, where did he get it, she wondered?

The last thing she heard before she blacked out was Dani, in a sad voice, saying, "I'm sorry . . ." as he moved toward her and brought the knife up.

(privious)(index) (next)