The First Love Of Alipang Havens

I guessed as much. Don't worry about it. I don't have any plans at the moment. You can do whatever you want with her. Well not whatever you want. You can't kill her off or something. But feel free to put her in. Actually I'd kinda like you to put her in. But if it doesn't work that's fine. :D
 
~ ~ Okay, Rachel sweetie. I'll come up with a way that Summer can appear again in this narrative without committing you to anything heavy in YOUR narrative.
 
Isobel knew that the Holy Spirit was at work, for Lorraine sat meekly listening as the pastor's wife brought numerous Bible references into play, forming a picture of how Jesus came not to BE served, but TO serve, as told in Mark 10:45. Isobel explained the supreme UNselfishness of Jesus, and this led naturally to Philippians chapter two.

"This chapter tells of how Jesus gave up His privileges as part of God, so that He could make God's life available to us through His suffering and death. And the attitude God wants to see in US is in the same chapter. Look here, at the third verse: 'Do nothing out of selfishness and conceit, but in humility count others better than yourselves.' "

This was where Lorraine's childish ego balked once more. "But that's telling us to _hate_ ourselves!"

Isobel closed her eyes for a few seconds. "Lord Jesus, let the veil be taken away; let the Spirit make her see!" Then she opened her eyes again and answered: "No, it does not say to hate ourselves! The only reason you even _think_ it says that is because you're bringing your pop-psychology thinking into this conversation, instead of letting the Word say to you what it _actually_ says. What it's telling you is to value others _above_ yourself."

"But, but...if I'm not good to me, who _will_ be good to me?"

"Lorraine, dear, try to _listen_ this time. The Scripture is telling _everyone_ to practice this humble and loving attitude. If everyone on Earth lives by self-centeredness, that makes _every_ other person on Earth your competitor. But if everyone practices what Philippians 2:3 commands, then everyone you meet will be someone who wishes good for you! That's who'll be good to you: only EVERYBODY!"

"But people _don't_ practice this kind of idealism," Lorraine objected.

Isobel clasped her guest's hand. "You're right, they don't. What they do instead....is to live by and for self-gratification, looking out for Number One. They start terrorist movements to impose their will on others, forcing men like Wilson Kramer to go and fight them. Or they commit fraud and theft, creating situations like the situation that endangered Baeline Tisdale in December. Or they leave the homeless unaided and unpitied, a situation that Alipang Havens could tell you plenty about. Or they tell slanderous lies about honest men, as a public-radio program did about Alipang's father this very morning. Or they desert their spouses and children just so they can have more fun--sound like anyone you know? But all of them have some excuse for it, some way to maintain their oh-so-important self-esteem _while_ still doing harm to humanity in large or small ways. And _that's_ why the world is in a mess."

"Well, well, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"The only thing a mortal woman or man CAN do: let _your_ heart be set free from what C.S. Lewis called 'that sleepless, unsmiling concentration on self which is the mark of Hell.' Quit being the competitor of everyone else on Earth; be filled with the love of the _Creator_ of the Earth!"

Lorraine stared at Isobel silently and intensely for ten seconds or longer before leaning away from her a little and gasping, "What's with you? What's happening to you? Why do you look like this? What's happening to you? What are you doing to me?"

Isobel reached her arms gently to embrace the slightly younger woman, finding her without any strength to resist. "Sweetheart, I haven't changed, and I'm not doing anything to you. If I look different to you, it's because God has blown away the smokescreen, to let you see more truly what was _already_ here: the hope of glory that I have because of Christ living in me! If He's letting you see this much, then He will also give you the ability to _believe_ what His Word has told you.

"You've already acknowledged what wonderful parents Eric and Cecilia are to their children; God cultivated that goodness in them. Your son Quinn has shown more tolerance toward you than you deserve to get from him--you know that's true; and God cultivated that goodness in him."

Lorraine's arms were creeping around Isobel in return, even as she asked one more question: "What, isn't there any free will for people?"

"Of course there is, honey. Eric and Cecilia and Quinn and my husband and I and others like us all _consent_ to God performing this miracle of new birth inside us! But the _power_ belongs to God; He just lets us carry a bit of it around in these earthen vessels. Lorraine, I know this is a lot to take in; but do you want to spend the rest of your life trying to convince your image in the mirror that you never did anything wrong? Or do you want to find an all-powerful love that will _forgive_ you for the wrong you did, while at the same time _healing_ the wounds wherever others did wrong to you?"

"Is, is, is that possible," the redhead stammered, "or are you just making this all up?"

Isobel kissed Lorraine's forehead. "Sweetie, you already _know_ that I'm not making it up; the Holy Spirit is already telling your heart that what He let you see shining out of me is real. The question is, do you want it for yourself? Do you want something better than sticking a thermometer in the mouth of your scrawny little self-esteem every day to see if it's healthy? Do you want a life, a power, an adventure like nothing you ever dreamed of?

"Do you want your son to be able to look at you and NOT have to struggle to stop himself from despising you? Do you want the impossible debt you owe to be paid? Your treachery to be pardoned? Jesus is standing at your door and knocking. He won't break in your door and grab you by the throat; He wants to enter your life by invitation, and take you by the hand. Please let Him! Please let Him! Jesus is waiting to give you a love so amazing, so divine, you won't have _time_ to quibble about your self-esteem, you'll be so busy learning to appreciate Him and care about others! What are you waiting for? What can you lose that was worth having? Oh, please, let Jesus into your life!"

Somewhere during that impassioned appeal for faith and repentance, a barrier was broken. Well might it be said that a dam burst, for Lorraine Sloane was drenching Isobel Stetzer's strong shoulder with more tears than she had shed at one time since childhood.

But by the time these tears were done flowing....Lorraine Sloane was a new creation in Christ.
 
Not long after the day of Lorraine Sloane's redemption, the Christian radio station WVVV had a lively program in afternoon drive time. This was the Amy Gordon show, hosted by the elder sister of Alipang's church buddy Pete Gordon; and Amy was doing a live interview on the subject of health care...with Alipang's own father.

"Doctor Havens, could you tell us in a few words what the Smoky Lake Free Clinic is?"

"Glad to. It's an independent charitable organization, which doesn't receive one dime of tax money. Its funding comes from the local Elks, Kiwanis, Lions and Rotary Clubs, plus area churches and businesses. And all of us healthcare professionals who treat patients there are donating our services without compensation. This fact can easily be proven; we all keep good records."

"But don't you get a huge tax shelter out of this?" asked Amy.

"That's what plenty of people think," replied Eric Havens. "But the actual fact is that the Internal Revenue Service gives us NO tax deduction at all for pro bono patient care. So every doctor, dentist, nurse or technician who serves the poor at the Free Clinic is plainly and simply losing money by it."

Amy's warm smile was visible only to Eric and the producer as she said, "Let me tell our listeners that I already knew this, since your family is friends with my family. But I wanted everyone to hear it: YOU LOSE MONEY, with no Earthly compensation, by what you do at the clinic. Some of our fellow Christians, at this point, might want to rebuke you for boasting of your deeds of charity. They would remind us of Jesus' warning against blowing the trumpet when giving alms. What would you say to them?"

"To them I would say that it's right to speak openly about good deeds when you're trying to defend people's freedom TO do good deeds. Jesus also recommended praying secretly; but when the prophet Daniel came up against a wrongful decree _restricting_ prayer, he made a point of being seen praying, because he was taking a stand for his _right_ to pray."

"Doctor Havens, are you saying that your right to give dental care pro bono is being threatened? How can this be, when America has just elected a new administration which promises health care to everyone?"

Eric's voice turned grim. "The answer is that we _already_ have health care for everyone in America. Emergency rooms are compelled by law to give aid to anyone entering, including illegal aliens--which is why many hospitals in the Southwest have gone bankrupt. And there are numerous professionals like me who donate their skills voluntarily for the needy. All that socialized medicine will add is more intrusive regulatory micro-managing, which will TAKE AWAY our ability to use our own initiative and our own judgment. The bureaucrats talk a good line about redistribution of everything, but they contribute nothing to _creating_ in the first place those goods and services which they propose to redistribute. Persons like me, who _produce_ the health care, will have less and less voice in HOW it is to be done...."

When Amy began taking calls, she and Eric were dismayed at how many listeners willfully refused to understand the real-world complications Eric was trying to explain. Even professed Christians wanted to confine all discussion to socialistic pablum about punishing "the rich" and thereby magically achieving an abundance of everything for everyone.

One refreshing supporter was Coach Escobar from East High. During his call he remarked, "No football team can get anywhere with a blindly dogmatic fixation on only distributive equality. Of course we're a team and we need team spirit; but we're still a team OF INDIVIDUALS, each of whom has to prove himself individually and earn his place on the team by his own efforts. If my coaching position were taken over by a bureaucrat who knew nothing about football or the other sports, whose only qualification was belonging to the victorious political party, then the East Falcons would be doomed to disastrous failure."

Amy put in: "Or, if they averted a total failure, it would only be because the _players_ were allowed to show initiative and make use of _their_ knowledge, no thanks to the bureaucrat."

"Amen to both of you!" exclaimed Eric. "That's just what we medical professionals want: to be allowed to use OUR judgment, based on our experience _within_ our fields, not be second-guessed by Beltway hacks who scarcely know how to unwrap a Band-Aid."

Eric and Amy came away from their hour on the air cautiously optimistic that at least some listeners had been induced to think about something more substantive than merely jumping up and down shouting "Change! Change!"
 
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On a Saturday when the Tisdale family's animal-care operation had TWO horses needing exercise, Alipang decided that if he could face armed gangsters, he could face a bit of cold weather. So he and his snowmobile suit leaped at Kim's invitation to go riding with her on the trail to which the Tisdales had access.

"Is your Dad still steaming about those public-radio people?" Kim asked, as their horses were walking in the direction of the Smoky Lake Reservoir.

"Yeah. He really doesn't like being lied about, especially when he knows that the lies about himself are part of a bigger scheme of deception."

A bit of the old wiseacre attitude sneaked back into Kim's mouth. "What, a scheme to make everyone afraid to go to the dentist? But they already ARE afraid to go to the dentist."

Alipang didn't smile. "I mean a scheme to make central government control appear like the cure to all problems, which requires character assassination against anyone resisting the trend."

Kim looked uneasy. "Mom listens to public radio all the time. Are you serious about them lying to people?"

"I've heard some of it myself. Like a few years ago, when Venezuelans were protesting against Hugo Chavez rigging their elections, a public radio program pretended that the only reason for the demonstrations was concern over oil prices! They knew better; but they couldn't bear to let any friend of their hero Fidel Castro look bad."

Conversation in this vein continued all the way to the reservoir park. It was hardly saccharine romance-novel material; but it actually suited Kim, who still had some of her coldness and aloofness to deal with. She had not so far openly stated to Alipang her growing inner conviction that someday she was going to marry him; yet even having this conviction, she remained ambivalent about the physical obligations of a marriage. She was grateful (where many girls in her place would be frustrated) for the fact that Alipang's age afforded an automatic waiting period before marriage could even be an issue.

At a suitable place on the trail network, she asked Alipang to hold his horse in place--which his powerful hands on the reins could easily do--while she took her own horse on a canter, which it had been hankering for. She cantered out of sight ahead of her boyfriend; returned some eight minutes later; had him dismount so they could trade places; cantered off on Alipang's horse while Alipang held her horse; then returned again.

"Okay, let's trade back."

In a moment when they were both on their own feet between the heads of the two horses, Kim's eyes met Alipang's; and for a moment, the purity of his soul radiated right out of his eyes and made a crack in her emotional armor. Acting before her coldness could reassert itself, she put her free hand on his shoulder, drew him in and kissed his mouth. While he was grinning in delighted surprise, though, she moved ahead with the remounting.

Safely in the saddle once more, she deadpanned: "Now I need to hear some Shakespeare from you on the way back." So Alipang recited five Shakespearean sonnets from memory during the return trip.
 
February of 2009 came into Virginia with mild weather generally, Canadian geese migrating up from the south, socialist-utopia talk streaming down from the nation's capital, and Cecilia Havens' pregnancy progressing better than she and Eric had dared to hope.

By now, Alipang, Chilena, Melody and Harmony knew the sex of their pre-born sibling; and his name was chosen. Terrance Roger Havens, who had received his first name and middle name from his maternal and paternal grandfathers respectively, had made his debut on the ultrasound screen, to the wonderment of Harmony. Alipang was simply pleased that he finally had a brother; in his mind, he was already starting to teach Terrance Escrima.

But not ceasing to pray against a miscarriage.


On the third Saturday morning in February, a family with only one child to its name was brought together under controlled conditions, in the pastor's office of Redemption Free Church. First to arrive, and to be greeted by the Stetzers, was the former Lorraine Kramer, scarcely a month old in the faith. She was early enough to have plenty of time for prayer with Tom and Isobel, and she felt the need for all of it. Isobel had been able to refer her to a good church in the Beltway area, and the ex-adulteress had been growing rapidly in grace; but she still dreaded this encounter, no longer armored with her cynical selfishness.

The Pastor and the First Lady of Redemption Church had Lorraine seated between them, to reassure her. Isobel was holding her hand when Wilson and Quinn came into the office. Lorraine couldn't meet the eyes of either her son or her ex-husband, as they took the vacant chairs awaiting them.

Quinn was silent, but in a watchful rather than a sullen way. His father said, "Good morning, Tom, Isobel." For an instant, it seemed that Wilson was purposely refusing to acknowledge Lorraine; but it was only that he had a separate salutation for her. "Lorraine, welcome to the Kingdom of God. Quinn and I prayed for a very long time for you to arrive." There was no great warmth in this, yet still sincerity.

For Lorraine's part, her voice held more humility than it had ever shown in all of Wilson's past acquaintance with her. She still avoided the eyes of the two persons she had monstrously wronged and betrayed; but her failure to act more emotional was not a sign of indifference. Rather, it bespoke her conviction that she had no right to make bids for sympathy.

"Wilson....Quinn....I'm so sorry, so awfully sorry. It was all my fault, all of it from the start. I never deserved either of you, but when I abandoned you I was abandoning the best things I could ever have, mortally speaking. I have no right to ask for anything from you; but....I do ask you to accept my word that I really have come to Jesus. Not as a trick to get on your good side, but for real. He has saved me from the Hell I was heading for. I don't know what should happen now, or what can happen; but I need you to know that I'm so, so very sorry for what I did."

Wilson gave a thoughtful nod. "I believe you, Lorraine." The mere fact that he addressed her by name released a small trickle of grace to spread through her spirit and her body. "Have you ever heard of Corrie ten-Boom? She was a Christian lady who survived a Nazi death camp in World War Two. After the war, she met one of her former camp guards, who had become a Christian. But he had not yet become very much of one, for he met her with a wildly inappropriate casualness, as if he didn't owe her the least apology for what he had done. I say that to say this: I can see that you really ARE sorry for what you did. So you have more spiritual fruit--the fruit which befits repentance--than that ex-Nazi had at that time."

Lorraine at last dared to meet his gaze. There was no hatred there; but neither was there any sign of love. Coming to Smoky Lake, she had not been sure what she hoped to accomplish; but now she knew what she wanted. Only it wasn't looking very likely. After all these years, Lorraine was being introduced to what she had made Wilson suffer: the stifling pain of desiring to be loved by one who withholds love.

The difference, of course, was that Wilson had done nothing to deserve this deprivation.

"Let's talk about your walk with Jesus," Wilson added. "That is the most important thing for anyone, and has to come ahead of everything else."

Lorraine searched his eyes. Were those last words intended after all to hold out some hope to her? She still was unsure about this after an hour and a half of discipleship talk. But when the meeting ended, Quinn finally spoke just before leaving: "We'll talk again soon, Mother."

Lorraine's heart clutched at this. Not a word of endearment had been offered, but hope WAS being offered.


~ ~ END OF PART TWENTY-TWO ~ ~ ​
 
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PART TWENTY-THREE:

THE SCRAPE OF THINGS TO COME​


On the Wednesday afternoon following Lorraine's crucial meeting, Sally Crandall was turning over the buffet operation at Rafferty's to Alipang and Kim. She had an unexpected question for the young couple:

"How do you kids feel about compulsory labor union membership?"

Al and Kim spontaneously glanced at each other. Then Kim told Sally, "It's a bad idea." Al said more loudly and less diplomatically, "It's tyranny, and it stinks."

"You do realize that it's being heavily pushed in Congress now, right?" muttered Sally. "And some union goons aren't even waiting for laws to be passed in their favor; they were _here_ less than three hours ago, dropping hints to our employees that it wouldn't be healthy to oppose unionizing this truckstop."

Kim looked at Al again; sure enough, he had the look on his face. Kim would not have wanted to be the union bully who tried to force Alipang Havens to join.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

The Eastern Paradise Buffet was closed each night at one a.m., to reopen at the following lunch hour. At this night's closing, Alipang and Kim were to discover that Al's words about tyranny had been heard by someone with a lively mouth.

Heading for Kim's car in the most out-of-the-way part of the parking lot, they found three burly men stepping in between them and the car...as four others appeared behind them to cut off retreat. All seven wore ski masks, and each one carried something in the nature of a club. Kim raised her purse, as if ready to hand it over if this was a robbery.

"You're Havens, aren't you?" growled one of the men in front. "We hear you don't like unions."

"I don't like being forced to join one," Al replied guardedly. "I'm not even sure I can join one at age seventeen."

"No one's forcin' you to join one," said the thug. "All you gotta do is quit workin' here."

Kim had been prepared to submit to a mere strongarm robbery, especially since it seemed likely that any such robbers, in a public place like this, would simply grab the loot and run, without pausing to harm the victims gratuitously. But now she saw that it was an altogether different situation. This was not robbery, it was intimidation.

And Kim hated bullies with a passion.

Maintaining a meek face, Kim fiddled momentarily with her purse, then touched Alipang's shoulder. "Al, you heard what he said; use your brains. We need to--Cry 'God for Harry, England and Saint George'."

In the instant while the dull-witted goons were wondering what on Earth the young hottie was telling her boyfriend, Kim brought her pepper spray into action. She had bought it soon after the Christmas Eve incident--something more portable than Al's fire extinguisher. Now she nailed the leader and the man on his right in the eyes. As they screamed in pain, Kim kicked the side man in the perfect place, then took his steel pipe and knocked out the leader. She was counting on Al to take care of business with the five who could still see.

And so Al did. First of all, springing like a leopard upon the one still-functional thug who was near Kim, he caught the haft of the medium-sized sledgehammer the man swung at him, while his free hand struck the man's larynx with only barely less than killing force. Then he whipped out and opened his balisong with his right hand, while his left hand held the hammer with more ease than its owner had shown with both hands.

When the other four noble champions of labor saw Alipang darting in an oblique attack to avoid being immediately surrounded, the one farthest from him turned to charge at Kim instead. This was not the wisest move he could have made. Seeing Kim endangered, Al hurled his hammer like Thor, fracturing the shoulder of the unwise fellow. Not ceasing to move as he did this, Al evaded the swing of a hardwood baton similar to an Escrima stick...opened a gory gash in that man's weapon arm with his blade, then broke his jaw with a hand-heel strike...shoved him into the way of the others...retrieved the baton with his left hand...and went after the two remaining intact adversaries.

This part went very fast, so fast that Al's last two targets were stunned and lying on the ground--

--before the man who had had the sledgehammer recovered from the throat blow, and drew a revolver.

Screeching obscenities, the goon squeezed off a clumsy shot at Alipang. Missing by inches, the bullet struck a wall of the building. Al's reflexive duck made it appear to the goon as if the boy had been hit; so he swung his aim toward Kim, getting her at gunpoint just as she was attempting to rush him.

Frantic with fear for Kim, Al started toward the gunman, shouting to draw his attention. The goon, having backhanded Kim to prevent interference, trained the lethal barrel on Al once more...

And then he was flying backwards, his brain splattering out of a double exit wound, as two rounds from a forty-four magnum ended his career in union politics.

"Sorry I'm late for the party," said Wilson Kramer, lowering his weapon as he ascertained that no other opposition was in any condition to threaten him or his young friends. "Kim, Al, are you all right?"

In the midst of hunkering down to cradle Kim in his arms, Alipang replied, "We're okay, sir, thanks to you. How'd you know to come here?"

"Just a minute." Wilson made sure the living criminals were all lying on their bellies with arms extended before them, called for assistance on his portable radio, then looked at his friends again. "Sally reported their daytime visit; and other businesses had complained of similar visits. The city cops have been on the lookout inside Smoky Lake, and we sheriff's deputies have been scouting the surrounding area. I guess not all the advocates of 'change' were willing even to wait for legislation to hand them their dominance."

Alipang and Kim paid no more attention than their witness role required to the ensuing arrest procedures; they were experiencing the same amorous aftermath as on Christmas Eve, this time without the stress of Al himself having been forced to slay anyone.

Kim's sisters Sharon and Susan would have been astonished to see Kim kissing anyone so fervently.
 
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Wow, that's a great addition. Side note: I love Corrie ten-Boom's story. What an amazing woman.

Oh my! I wrote the previous thing before realizing you'd added some more. What an intense scene.
 
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There was a grim humor for Alipang in the fact that he had not even had to come to Smoky Lake police headquarters on Christmas Eve when he slew two men in self-defense, yet now he and Kim had to come to sheriff's police headquarters when neither of them had slain anyone. But he wasn't laughing as he and Kim rode in the back of Wilson Kramer's own patrol car.

"Kim, have you forgotten scolding me for getting in physical confrontations last fall?"

Kim was avoiding his eyes. She had not forgotten; and she was feeling a little delayed shock from what a close call she had really had. "Those times, I had the luxury of being able to wag my finger and act superior. But when I was up against it tonight, right in there with you, I was just furious--like what I felt toward the clique-snob girls I used to get in fights with."

Alipang drew his girlfriend into his arms; they were not handcuffed, since they were not under arrest. "Kim, honey, will it surprise you if I say that I was planning to cool it with those union thugs, try to avoid them attacking us? I didn't think--I still don't think--that they intended to assault us then and there."

"I don't think they did, either," Deputy Kramer interjected. "There were too many witnesses nearby. They were bluffing, I'm certain--that is, as far as attacking you at that moment was concerned. But you can be equally sure that none of them would have hesitated to harm you under circumstances more favorable to themselves."

"Then what I did was an ounce of prevention," said Kim, her self-justifying streak re-emerging.

"It almost got each of us an ounce of ammunition," replied Alipang. "Even without that gun, if those bullies had been as professional as the ones from Christmas Eve, we would have had no chance against such a big number of them."

Kim suddenly bristled, pulling out of his embrace. "Are you calling me stupid?" Her admitting to a fault herself was one thing; any hint of Alipang criticizing her would still meet with a defensive ego.

Before the dismayed boyfriend could find more of an answer to this than "No," Kramer intervened again. "Al doesn't have to call you stupid, Kim; I'll say that you were at least unwise. If the thugs had intended to assault you in Rafferty's parking lot with people still around, they would have jumped you first thing, without pausing to make speeches, in order to reduce the risk of being identified and arrested."

"But it still worked out for the best, didn't it?" Kim argued. "I mean, now they're under arrest--" She fell silent, remembering that one of the goons was not under human arrest, but facing eternal judgment. When she found her voice again, it was to say, "Anyway, we're the obvious good guys, aren't we?"

"Only in a society which respects truth," Kramer told her. "Unfortunately, we now live in a society which prefers 'change.' I've been reading up on an organization called World Association of Legal Networks for Urban Transformation. That public-broadcasting witch Rhoda Gardner is tight with them, and they have wealthy backers. My instincts tell me that W.A.L.N.U.T. is going to be coming after us, I mean us three who are in this car now. They'll invent some way of making us the villains."

Bodily threats offered by gangsters had not frightened Alipang as much as the implications of Kramer's words now did. "Sir, you mean frivolous lawsuits and hate-crime charges?"

"Something along those lines, yes. And you can bet that their lies will be helped along by the fact that I was forced to take out one of the creeps. The three of us are likely to be cast as a 'right-wing death squad' in their fantasy; and they'll make a lot of granola-heads believe it."

More of the implications of the fight at Rafferty's now sank in for Kim. "Oh, Mr. Kramer, I didn't think of that. I'm so sorry!" At the same time, she was making a wordless apology to Alipang, by pulling him back into the hug she had broken off a moment before.

Alipang accepted the apology in the same language as it was made in; but at the same time, he was thinking ahead. Rhoda Gardner had just recently slandered his father on the radio; she was not likely to forego the chance to make "the evil racist dentist" part of the picture she would paint in the present instance--even though Dr. Havens worked with a Hispanic partner, and even though tonight's criminals had been white.

Hard times were ahead for the Havens family.
 
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Summoned to the sheriff's police station, Kim's mother and Alipang's father joined their daughter and son in facing the growing realization of what was coming. What the forced-unionism goons lacked in combat skill, they made up in a pre-scripted plan in case of capture. Their lawyers--who proved to be retained by the W.A.L.N.U.T. organization--showed up like lightning, and set about with straight faces to pretend to believe that the seven thugs had been _victims_ of a premeditated assault. This fantasy, of course, required more than three antagonists for the seven men; so the lawyers referred ominously to having "witnesses." Alipang, Kim and Wilson all knew, of course, that any witness claiming a larger number of persons against the unionists would be a perjurer; but the confidence of the lawyers suggested that they had had everything planned in advance.

These political hacks could not compel the sheriff's police actually to charge Alipang or Kim with anything; but it was within common practice for them to demand that Wilson Kramer be pulled off active duty pending investigation of his actions. It would be a suspension with pay; but it would still be a convenient detail for establishment journalists to pounce on, pretending to believe that they had to expose a "coverup." And Alipang and Kim--especially Kim as a legal adult--were not immune to the threat of a frivolous tort lawsuit.

While Elizabeth Tisdale imagined herself to be comforting Kim, and was actually more _being_ comforted by Kim, Eric Havens was the one most clearly grasping the seriousness of the situation. Despite it being after two a.m., he began making phone calls to assorted persons he knew who might be able to help against the impending travesty of jurisprudence.

Every person in that public-safety building (apart from a few unconnected offenders already locked in cells before the Rafferty's incident) knew exactly what had happened in that parking lot; but the ones preparing a deliberately falsified version were the ones who could rely on mainstream television and major newspapers to support their lies while knowing them to be lies. After all, they were for "change."

It was past four a.m. when Al and Kim, their story well recorded, were allowed to leave with their respective parents. (Kim's sisters had retrieved her car from Rafferty's.) Refusing to permit their deceitful enemies to divide them from each other, Al and Kim fiercely embraced and kissed at their parting. And once at home, Al was also fiercely embraced and kissed by Chilena.

Having the promise that he could stay home from school, Al took time to pray with Chilena before he sought the refuge of exhausted sleep. They prayed not only for vindication of the truth, but also for their mother's precarious pregnancy not to be destroyed by this traumatic situation.
 
Still going strong Papa Joe. I am still going to finish mine I just don't know if it'll be the same universe as yours. It would take quite a bit of reading to do that. lol.
 
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