With a back-up plan in place, we all turn to the music so we can ensure something was actually accomplished in the day so Julia won’t want to have our hides for being unproductive.  The basic idea is a little weird, to say the least, but we realized it was best for all our safeties.  If Anna is discovered, the plan is to point the finger at me for being the one who did it.  Julia, being a young girl and having been educated in a certain way about pregnancy, would most likely turn on Brian first for being at fault between the two of them if we told the truth, especially since Brian is already beginning to shift to her bad side. 

Of course, this plan presents two major problems.  The first and most obvious one is plausibility.  I’m over ten years younger than Anna.   The fact that I’m usually much more mild-mannered than Brian is sort of a giveaway as well.  Brian’s a year away from Anna in age.  If someone did it, it seems most likely it was Brian.

The second problem, and more dangerous one, doesn’t even involve trying to convince Julia that it’s the truth, but ironically, the danger involved if we actually pull off the trick.  If I do manage to get closer to her heart and she develops a serious attraction to me, the discovery that I’ve apparently given myself to another woman would spell disaster for both of us.  Conceivably even worse for poor Anna, since she’s the “other woman.”

Regardless, this is the best we can hope for, in addition to a fiery fit of apology and ass-kissing we would have to all engage in as a group to soften the blow.  Even then, none of us can even hope to guess what might befall all of us as a result if it wasn’t done correctly.

It’s like what they say about cars.  Something so useful that you are inside all the time, that represents so much beauty and class can kill you so easily in the right circumstances.  It’s really the same principle, except in this instance it’s the powerful hand of a sixteen year old girl.  I’ve never had the opportunity to get a driver’s license, since I was added to Julia’s human doll collection before I was eligible for a class, but I imagine that someone sitting behind the wheel of a car feels something similar to me when I’m palmed up by Julia.  Except there’s no way to control where her hand takes me.

It’s so soft, and as I’ve said, I’ve actually found some level of comfort in it, but it really could be used for anything.  It happens so regularly, Julia’s actually trained my mind to… enjoy the feeling of comfort and safety of being in her hand.  Giving total control of myself over to her, it’s actually quite pleasant (“giving” being the operative word here; perhaps “accepting her control”).  It’s probably not unlike baby animals who feel drawn to their mother.  When I’m in Julia’s hand, I really can’t do anything about what’s going on, but I know for a fact that I am completely safe. 

Unless I’m on her nerves.  In which case I could have my lungs squeezed out my ass by those fingers of hers with one simple motion.

                We’ve been studying the sheet music pretty heavily for the last couple hours, the bread lunch long since eaten.  I’m actually getting reasonably good with a couple of the songs.  My singing voice really isn’t terribly shabby, but I’ve never bothered to join a choir or anything.  It’s not the type of group I’d want to join.  It’s not like there’s ANY group I’d want to join, but that’s really the only good reason I have.  Solitude is really the only sure thing to me.

                The songs themselves are pretty stupid.  The music isn’t too hard to learn, and the words are cliché and ridiculous sounding.  From what I’ve gathered from the songs, the basic plotline is two teens in high school (write about what you know, right?) who fall in love but each have a set of parents that hate the other set for various reasons.  They end up breaking the rules or whatever to be together.  And yes, it is a complete cop-out of Romeo and Juliet.  Obviously, none of us dares do anything but tell Julia the damn thing deserves to win a Tony award, but in reality it sucks pretty bad.  Oh well, at the very least it will get us out of some tense and boring class time.

                It must be close to 4 pm when we hear the closet door open.  Right on schedule.  I get my sea legs as the house is grabbed from the outside and dragged outward.  The opening appears in the top, but instead of lowering the cup, the entire roof comes off.  We all look up to see the massive upper torso of Julia, looking down at us and smiling, her hair hanging down on the sides of her face.  She raises a hand to push it out of the way, blinks and murmurs, then speaks.

                “Hello, everyone,” she says with glee.  Where does this girl get the energy to sound like this every single hour of every day?  “Did you all study the music?  Are you ready for the audition tomorrow?”

                We all nod.  She clears her throat.  “I SAID, are we ready for tomorrow?”

                “Yes,” we all pipe up calmly together.  We know the drill.

                She tilts her head, and purses her lips.  The whole deal.  It’s honestly one of the scariest things she does, because it always means she’s either suspicious of something, or is about to try something that usually results in a degree of discomfort for all of us.

                “Kelly,” she says calmly, her hand descending down and casting a shadow over Kelly.  She wraps her up in a fist and raises her out of the house.

                “Are you going to sing well tomorrow?” she says nicely.

                “Yes, I am,” says Kelly.  The easiest response.

                “Do you know how to sing?” Julia responds.

                “Yes.”

                “Why don’t you let me hear some of it?”

                Kelly is (relative to us) about two stories up in the air, so I can barely hear her, but I hear her clear her throat before beginning on a standard C scale.  She gets all the way up and to the bottom again without a vocal response from Julia, who is stoic.

                “Hmm… you’re not bad…” says Julia.  “You’re a little flat.  Keep your voice in control and keep practicing,” she says.  She lowers Kelly back in, and without even removing her hand, her fingers walk over like legs to me.  In order to get enough leverage to pick me up, her fingers curl toward me and push me backward, roughly up against the wall as she slips a finger under my legs and pulls me into the air, near her face.  She holds me back a little further than usual, and eventually raises me up to eye level, remembering my “fear” of her mouth from this morning.

                “What about YOU, Jack?  Have you practiced so you can sing well tomorrow?”

                “Yes.”

                “I’m glad,” she smiles.   “Can I hear you?”

                “It’s not quite ready…” I say, trying to sound sheepish.  She looks at me disbelievingly.

                “I’m sure it’s great.  Now please sing for me.”

                “I can’t when you’re holding me like this.  It’s harder to use my diaphragm right.”

                She looks impressed by my apparent knowledge of singing procedure.  “Okay.  Here, let me just…” she says.  She opens her hand up so I can stand in her palm, then starts to tilt it upward, so her hand is in a high-five position.  “Hop in there,” she says. 

                She means between her fingers.  I step up just as her hand goes vertical, between her pointer and middle fingers.  She separates them so she can see me clearly.  For balance, I rest my arms on the tops of her fingers, which are just below my shoulders, adjusting my footing on the soft area between her fingers, then proceed to rattle around on my scales.  I get through a full scale before stopping.

                “Umm… is that enough?” I say.  She smiles at me.  I can’t see her mouth, but I can tell she is because of the little laugh wrinkles that bunch up around her eyes.

                “That was BEAUTIFUL, Jack.  Keep that up and maybe you’ll get the lead,” she says, winking.  She’s not fooling anyone, I know perfectly well she wrote that part for me.  Her only regret is probably that she can’t play my young lover in the musical.

                After my scales, she gently places me back in the hallway.  Her hand flips over into a cupped position and stops in front of Gina.  Her eyebrows raise.

                “Don’t forget our conversation, Gina.  Now get into my hand, please,” she says.  Gina quickly gets in, but I can see her legs and shoulders already shivering in fear from the height to come.  Julia raises her to a certain height, then sneaks her fingers from her other hand into the cupped hand.  Using her thumb, pointer, and middle fingers, she grips Gina around the stomach and plucks her out, leaving her legs dangling. 

                What a bitch, she’s trying to test Gina’s will again.  She’s trying to train her, just like she has the rest of us already.  Fears, of course, are much harder to break than through repetition.  I’m not seeing Gina’s disappearing through sheer experience like Julia believes.

                Her pinky and ring finger curl backward, keeping her other three straight as they hold Gina like a pencil.  She moves Gina closer to her face and smiles.  I can see Gina’s shaking getting worse.

                “See, it’s not so bad,” Julia says cheerfully.  Her smile quickly turns into a confused frown.  “Gina… stop shaking, please.  There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

                I’m starting to get nervous.  She’s trying to force an ultimatum out of Gina, to get her to be over her fear of heights.  She may or may not turn this into a terrifying punishment if Gina doesn’t obey the impossible command to stop her involuntarily shaking limbs.

                “Look, Gina.  There’s nothing to be scared of.  I can make sure you don’t fall.  See, here…” she says, raising her other hand back up.  She extends her pointer finger horizontally, like you would if you had a bird sitting on your finger, and she plops Gina onto her finger, forcing her to straddle it.  Gina instantly plunges her chest down onto the finger so she can wrap her arms around it.  Her shaking gets even worse.

                Julia raises her pointer finger up, with the small girl dangling for dear life onto it.  She squints.

“Let go, Gina.  I want you to just sit on my finger, not hang on like that.  You’re okay.  Just let go.”  Gina refuses to budge.

                “Let, GO, Gina.”

                “But I… I’m going to fall…” says Gina finally.  I want to help her badly.

                “Julia, she’s fine.  Just let her sing and be done!” I yell upward.  Julia stares down at me, then shakes her head.

                “I appreciate your concern for your classmates, Jack, but Gina has to learn a lesson right now.”

                “But can’t you see?  She’s not afraid of you, Julia, she’s afraid of heights,” I say, hoping to save Gina before the situation worsens.  Julia’s eyes dart back to her finger and the poor girl cutting off the bloodflow in an attempt to not fall off.  I can literally see Julia’s fingertip beginning to turn white, in odd contrast to the pink and peachy flesh tone of the rest of her hand.  But Julia doesn’t appear to be considering my point.

                “Let go now, Gina.  Or I’ll flip my finger over.”

                That gets her attention.  Steadying herself as best she can, Gina is forced to let go.  Still laying down on the finger for leverage, she holds her arms out to the far sides of her body for balance.

                “Now sit up, Gina.  I don’t want you laying down.”

                “But…” whispers Gina.  I can literally see sweat forming on Gina’s body from down here.

                “Gina, this is your last chance.  You’re going to sit nicely on my finger.  And you’re going to sing to me.  Be a little birdie for me and sing a nice song.”

                Gina gulps, and rears up.  Her face is clammy, the front of her shirt darkened with a cold sweat.

                “GOOD, Gina.  See, that wasn’t so bad.  Now sing.”

                Closing her eyes, Gina hugs her arms to her chest and starts to sing a scale.  It’s actually not bad, but in her nervousness she cracks several notes.  Julia makes a tsk tsk noise at her at the end.  It’s so terrible and odd to see at the same time.  A person perched like a sparrow on the finger of another, huge, person, singing a song.  Sweating a storm out in fear.

                “Keep practicing, Gina.  You need some work,” says Gina finally.  To end the uncertainty of whether of not Gina is going to lose her balance, she quickly grabs her up in a fist and frowns, clenching her around the torso.

                “Gina… you’re sweaty.  I mean, you’re really sweaty.  What’s the deal?  Why can’t you just sit still like a GOOD little girl for me and not make a mess on yourself?” says Julia, sounding more and more irritated.

                “I’m… I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean too, I mean… I can’t help it…” chokes Gina, her throat going dry.

                “I just can’t understand it.  Why do you have such a problem with me holding you?”

                “I don’t!  I don’t.  I just… don’t like heights.  That’s all.  I don’t like heights.”

                Julia shoots a glance down at me, almost as if blaming me for the reaffirming of what I had said earlier.

                “Well, I don’t want you to be afraid.  So you’re going to stop it.  Today.  Now.”

                “Bu-but… I can’t… I’m sorry, I’m trying.”

                “No, you’re not, Gina.  You’re not trying.  You never try.  You just whine and complain and then you sweat all over the place.  You’re really a disappointment, Gina.  Do you know that?” says Julia, more sternly than before.

                “Julia!” I shout upward at the top of my lungs, trying again.  “Just leave… her… ALONE!”