Monday morning comes at last, and the weather matches my mood perfectly. It's pouring down rain, which apparently doesn't happen often in Dallas in July. Just what I need to steady my nerves... some kind of ominous portent.
Paul is in the bathroom, having his shower. Naomi has just finished hers and is pacing around the room, rubbing her head vigorously with a towel. She walks over to my shoebox and peers down at me with a playful grin. "You should see the tub in there, sweetie," she tells me gleefully. "It's enormous!"
The look of horror on my face must be readily apparent. Naomi leans in closer and whispers, "Don't worry, little boy. You're safe from me. At least, until after the hearing." With a chuckle, she goes to get dressed, leaving me to shudder in private.
There is a throng of reporters and photographers on the courthouse steps, hoping to catch a glimpse of me. They swarm towards Paul and Naomi and Rachel as we make our way up, but some men in dark suits run interference, blocking the paparazzi and holding them back.
Rachel showed up with a special carrying case this morning, because it might look bad if the Daltons brought me to my custody hearing in a shoebox. Right now, I'm cowered in the back of that case, as far from the mesh window as I can get. It's dim inside here, and the entire thing rocks back and forth with the movement of Rachel's body. I feel the bounce of the steps, and can hear the staccato footsteps as they make their way along the marble floor.
Finally, we stop and Rachel speaks to a woman whom I immediately recognize as Cindi Martinez. She leads us down another corridor and into the courtroom. The door closes behind us with a heavy, metallic snick. My carrier comes to rest on a table, and I catch a glimpse of Rachel's hand through the mesh as she reaches to open the door.
"Come on out, Ray," she says softly. "It's okay."
I walk out onto the oak table and look around. The courtroom is a little shabbier than I expected, but my entire legal experience comes from the occasional episode of Ally McBeal. The judge's bench sits vacant, flanked by the American flag and the Texas flag. The jury's box sits empty as well, but the gallery behind us is sparsely populated. I see Gary, Alan and Louise sitting behind the rail, looking hopefully in my direction. When they see me looking back, they all wave discreetly and smile. I wave back and glance at the woman seated next to them. When I realize who it is, my knees tremble and I almost burst out in tears.
There sits Suzy, looking lovelier than I've ever seen her. Her beautiful black hair is pinned up, and she's wearing a pretty green dress, the same shade as her nail polish. I want so badly to run over to her, to throw myself on whatever body part happens to be handy and just lavish her with kisses.
Suzy gives me that playful grin, the one that makes me dizzy, and she flits her fingers in a quick greeting. I wave back enthusiastically until Ms. Martinez brings her hand down on its edge, blocking me from Suzy's sight.
"Let's keep the fraternization down, shall we?" she says with a humorless, tight-lipped smile. "Why don't you come over here, with me?"
Ms. Martinez walks along the table to the other side of my father and sits down. As I follow after her, I glance over my shoulder and see my mother sitting at a similar table across the room, in front of Suzy, Alan and Louise. Next to her is a scary, thin guy with white hair and thick glasses. He's one of SPECTRUM's attorneys; I remember him from the meetings back in April, when Paul Dalton first surfaced.
I walk past my father's arm in its white dress sleeve, past the pitcher of ice water, and stand where Ms. Martinez indicates with the tap of her manicured fingernail. Behind them, Rachel and Naomi have taken their seats in the gallery.
Hail, hail, the gang's all here. I glance furtively in Suzy's direction, but can't see her because my father's in the way. He sees me looking towards him and offers me a nervous smile. I look away, and he sighs.
Ms. Martinez pops open her briefcase and rummages around for a few seconds before removing a legal pad and a pen. She sets it down on the table between her and my father and leans towards him. "If you have any questions or feel the need to tell me something, write it down and show me," she tells him. "Judge Weining doesn't tolerate interruptions."
My dad pours himself a cup of water and gulps it greedily. The poor bastard looks almost as nervous as I feel. Probably afraid something's going to happen and his sweet deal with GenetiTech won't go through.
The quiet murmur in the courtroom drops off suddenly when the uniformed bailiff enters the room and orders us to rise for the honorable Judge Weining. A heavy man with freaky white eyebrows and thinning hair steps up behind the bench and bangs the gavel. Court is in session.
SPECTRUM's lawyer, whose name is Oscar Bentz, leads things off with a motion. "Raymond Miller is sixteen years old, your honor, and more than capable of making this decision on his own. We ask that he be allowed to decide for himself where he wants to live."
Ms. Martinez stands up and replies, "Ray's decision-making capacity is diminished by the fact that he has spent his entire life in a lab, and it is our opinion that he is incapable of acting in his own best interests. We ask that your honor decline the motion and allow the hearing to continue."
Judge Weining ponders it for a second, but in the end sides with GenetiTech. He stifles Bentz's arguments, and the hearing gets underway.
First up on the stand is my father, Paul Dalton, who swears to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I watch anxiously, hoping that he'll be nervous and twitchy up there. Unfortunately, the smooth bastard comes off as quite amiable and sincere.
"I only want to do what's right for my son," he tells the judge, "a son I never knew I had. I'll never forgive his mother for keeping him a secret or for selling him to those Nazis at SPECTRUM."
"Objection!" Bentz calls, and the judge sustains. Ms. Martinez resumes her questioning, and Paul paints a very rosy picture of my blissful life at the Dalton house. "We've provided the boy with a loving family, and I think that's just what he needs at this point."
Bentz stands up and approaches Paul slowly, hoping to unsettle him. Paul tugs slightly at his collar, but maintains his composure.
"Mr. Dalton," Bentz says. "I understand that you have negotiated a deal with GenetiTech, to turn your son over to them for study in exchange for a sizeable stipend."
"Is Mr. Bentz going to ask a question, your honor?" Ms. Martinez asks snidely, "or is he simply going to testify?"
"My question is this," Bentz says. "Doesn't this strike you as a tad mercenary, Mr. Dalton? You claim to have your son's best interests at heart, and yet you appear to be auctioning him off to the highest bidder."
"It's not like that," Paul says coolly, obviously prepared for this question. "Ray is a special-needs child, and GenetiTech has kindly offered to help us meet those needs. But Ray will continue to live with us and will remain a viable member of this loving family."
"Fine. Thank you, Mr. Dalton." Bentz starts to walk away, but stops and turns dramatically. If I had to venture a guess, I'd wager that Oscar Bentz has seen Inherit the Wind a few times. "One more question, Mr. Dalton," he says matter-of-factly, as if he just thought of it. "Isn't it true that while in your custody, Ray Miller was kidnapped by your neighbor Cheryl Morgan?"
Paul is visibly startled by the question, and Ms. Martinez shifts uncomfortably behind me. They really didn't expect SPECTRUM to know about that. And SPECTRUM probably wouldn't have, if Suzy hadn't contacted them for me. I feel almost giddy.
"No, that's not true," Paul says.
Bentz glares at him. "Are you sure, Mr. Dalton? Isn't it true that your poor son was subjected to all manner of physical and mental torture at the hands of this woman and her daughter? That he was sexually assaulted?"
"Absolutely not!" Paul insists.
Ms. Martinez sighs dramatically behind me. "Asked and answered, your honor."
"I agree," Judge Weining says. "Counselor, move on."
Bentz scratches his chin. "No more questions, your honor."
Ms. Martinez next calls Naomi to the stand. Once she's sworn in, Naomi describes in nauseatingly sweet detail just how much she adores me. "I love Ray like he was my own," she tells the judge as tears run down her cheeks. She points at my mother and says, "I'll never understand how that woman could just abandon him like she did."
"Objection," Bentz calls. This time, the judge overrules.
When Ms. Martinez is done, Bentz gets up and faces Naomi. "Ms. Dalton, maybe you'd care to tell us just what happened to Ray Miller during those three weeks in June?"
Naomi smiles, puzzled. "Um, what three weeks are those, sir?"
"The three weeks when he was being molested by your neighbor. The three weeks when you didn't report him missing because you were afraid it might hurt your chances of obtaining custody."
"Your honor," Ms. Martinez says in an annoyed voice.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken," Naomi says. She's much cooler than Paul was. "Ray was never kidnapped, and I think it's despicable of you to try and sway this judge by repeating that lie over and over."
"Objection!" Bentz snaps, glaring at the judge. "This is ridiculous!"
"Personally, I think it's a very astute observation," Judge Weining says, and Bentz flushes. "Let's move on, Mr. Bentz."
Bentz sighs. "Ms. Dalton, did you or did you not have an affair with a Benny Doyle during the month of June?"
"We never had sexual relations," Naomi says. "Mr. Doyle was a very charming man, and I believed us to be good friends. I confided in him about Ray, and he betrayed me by printing that pack of lies."
Bentz walks over to his briefcase, and pulls out a folded issue of the National Mirror. "So, it's your testimony that Mr. Doyle lied in this article?"
"Yes," Naomi says. "In fact, I believe the paper retracted the story and fired him."
"So, you never said to Mr. Doyle," Bentz pulls his glasses down and peers over the top of them at the paper. "Ah, here we go. You never said, 'I love the way he feels when he's squirming between my toes. So tiny and helpless, not knowing if I'm going to..."
"Your honor!" Ms. Martinez says indignantly, standing up. "Mr. Bentz is offering evidence from a tabloid article that has since been labeled libelous and retracted. I don't even know where to start objecting."
"No need," the judge says. "Mr. Bentz, I'm losing patience. Do you have anything remotely relevant to ask this witness?"
Poor Bentz's face is bright red. He crumples the newspaper in his fist and lets his arm drop to his side. "No more questions, your honor," he says.
Things aren't looking very good for me right now. I don't think Bentz is as incompetent as he appears to be, but I do believe that Ms. Martinez and Judge Weining have him at a distinct disadvantage. He returns to his seat and plops down angrily.
Ms. Martinez calls Rachel Foster to the stand to elaborate on the GenetiTech deal. Rachel explains that the Daltons will be relocated to Midland, but that I will remain unequivocally in the care of my father and stepmother. GenetiTech will provide for my education, as well as for any special needs.
She smiles warmly, banishing her ice princess personae for the duration of her testimony. "It's a win-win situation for all involved," she announces proudly. Ms. Martinez thanks her and takes her seat.
Bentz doesn't even cross-examine her. Judge Weining declares a one-hour break for lunch, and we adjourn.
One of Cindi Martinez's clerks shows up with some sandwiches, and we all have our lunch in one of the empty conference rooms. Ms. Martinez is in good spirits as she tears into her chicken salad, laughing about poor befuddled Oscar Bentz. Paul and Naomi are laughing as well, certain that they have the case in the bag.
Rachel and I are the only ones that don't join in the revelry. Me, because I don't really feel like celebrating and Rachel because, well because she's Rachel.
"I can't believe they brought that little whore Suzy in here," Naomi says around a mouthful of turkey breast on wheat. "What do you think she's planning on saying?"
Ms. Martinez shrugs. "Good question. Why don't you tell me?"
"Well, she knows about the kidnapping," Paul says, "because she's the one that actually rescued Ray from next door." Rachel clears her throat, and I give her a smirk. I wonder if it pisses her off that Suzy was able to find me and save me while she and all her little minions were standing around and scratching their heads. Maybe that's why she has it in for Suzy as well, I suddenly realize. Maybe she actually feels threatened by an eighteen-year old college student.
"Is that all?" Ms. Martinez asks Naomi. "Did she ever witness any... impropriety between you and your stepson?"
"What the hell are you asking?" Paul snaps. "My wife has never treated Ray with anything other than love and respect. Anybody that says otherwise is a goddamn liar."
Suddenly, they're all looking at me. I gulp and swallow my bite of toast and cheese and look into their faces. Ms. Martinez looks indifferent, Paul looks anxious, and Naomi glares at me as threateningly as she can.
"Love and respect," I repeat. "A real Carol Fucking Brady."
Rachel's hand comes to rest on the table right next to me. I turn and look into her steely eyes.
"Remember what we talked about, Ray," she says. "Now's not the time to start making stupid little jokes."
I nod. "Whatever you say, Rachel."
After lunch, SPECTRUM gets the ball rolling by calling my mom to the stand. She trembles as she makes her way up there, a tiny and fragile woman with short, black hair. I study her as she takes her seat, trying hard to reconcile her face with the image of the smiling blonde woman in the National Mirror.
Bentz has settled down a bit, and seems to be in control once again. After my mom is sworn in, he asks her in a gentle voice to explain the nature of her deal with SPECTRUM. She slowly describes how SPECTRUM approached her and offered to raise me onsite and provide for my every need, and in exchange she would be sent a monthly check. Then she breaks down and starts crying.
"You've got to understand," she sobs, "I never stopped loving my son. My biggest regret is that I didn't spend more time with him." Bentz steps up and offers her a handkerchief, and she wipes her eyes with it. After a few seconds, she continues in a wavering, pitiable voice.
"Your honor," she says, looking directly at the judge, "I've had my share of troubles over the past fifteen or twenty years. But I've recently turned my life around. I've put all that behind me, and now I'm ready to make amends to my son."
Bentz takes his seat, and Ms. Martinez goes to work on my mother. And my poor mom just falls apart under the redirect. Ms. Martinez brings up her habitual drug use, and hammers the fact that she sold me to a lab for testing. By the time she's finished, my mother is wailing unintelligibly on the stand. And despite Bentz's constant objections, it's obvious Ms. Martinez has done a brilliant job of portraying Cathy Miller as a heartless whore.
When Bentz calls Suzy to the stand, my heart skips a beat. I feel such a horrible, gnawing frustration in my gut, being so near her and yet unable to touch her or even speak to her. I watch nervously as Bentz questions her, but she seems poised. She gives an account of my kidnapping and subsequent rescue, despite Ms. Martinez's frequent objections. When it's time for the cross-examination, I hold my breath and clench my fists.
"Ms. Le, could you please describe the nature of your relationship with Ray Miller?"
Suzy blushes ever so slightly. "Ray is a very good friend of mine, and I love him dearly," she says. I hear Rachel shift uncomfortably behind me. No doubt she's upset that her plan to drive a wedge between me and Suzy didn't work.
"Would you describe your relationship as romantic?"
Dangerous ground here, and I can tell Suzy is a little apprehensive. She glances towards Bentz for guidance, but he has none to offer. Finally, Suzy says with a smile, "I could very easily fall in love with Ray Miller."
My heart skips a beat and my face is suddenly flushed. I'm sure I have an idiot grin on my face, but I can't help it. She loves me, I think to myself, basking in the sheer thrill of it. She loves me!
"Did Mr. and Mrs. Dalton approve of this... decidedly unorthodox relationship?" Ms. Martinez asks.
Suzy shrugs. "I don't think they really knew. I mean..."
"Are you sure?" Ms. Martinez says. "Isn't it true that Mrs. Dalton ordered you to refrain from any inappropriate behavior towards her stepson?"
"No!" Suzy insists. "She never ordered anything like..."
"And isn't it true that, when you ignored her wishes and continued to flirt with Ray that she dismissed you?"
"No, that's not true!" Suzy says, growing flustered. "She fired me because..."
"Ms. Le, did you come here to lie just so you could get back at your former employers?"
Bentz leaps to his feet. "Objection! Your honor! This is a flagrant abuse of..."
"Withdrawn," Ms. Martinez says. "No further questions."
Suzy can't even look at me as she walks back to her seat. She wipes at her eyes and rubs the tears from her cheeks. And dear God, I want so badly to call out to her, but I don't dare. Not yet.
Louise takes the stand and explains that I was quite happy and well-adjusted at SPECTRUM, and she in no way considers my faculties diminished. "Despite his size," she says with a kind smile, "he is a totally normal 16 year old boy."
Ms. Martinez has no questions, so Louise is dismissed.
Gary Pepperidge, who was the project lead at SPECTRUM while I was there, is called next by Bentz. "Our experiments were humane and non-intrusive. Our primary objective was to determine the cause of Mr. Miller's genetic anomaly, so that we might possibly affect a cure. Other than that, we were interested in charting his physical and mental capabilities. We provided him with premium accommodations, a top-notch education, professional counseling..."
"What about his emotional growth?" Bentz asks. "Did Ray Miller grow up in a sterile environment, without intimacy or human contact?"
"Of course not," Gary says indignantly. "Like I said, we provided him with a professional counselor... um, Louise Herndon." Gary points across the room at Louise, who sits quietly in the gallery. "Over the years, we all came to see Ray as a part of the family. Many of us considered him a personal friend, and he developed a deep, affectionate bond with Louise and with Alan Mackey, our chief of security."
This goes on for several more minutes, as Gary goes into details regarding my living quarters, my curriculum, and the time I spent during the off hours with them. He gives me a friendly grin, and I smile back.
Bentz finishes, and Ms. Martinez stands up. She reaches into an architect's folder on the floor next to the table, and pulls out a large poster board. On it is a blowup of the National Mirror photo that shows me in Louise's hand, being suspended over a lit candle. It was the picture taken at my birthday party by that fat kid Tony, and Louise was simply holding me up so I could blow out the candle on my cake. But the Mirror cropped it and used it as evidence of their sinister allegations.
"Is this one of your benign experiments, Dr. Pepperidge?" Ms. Martinez asks.
"I object!" Bentz shouts, leaping to his feet. "Ms. Martinez is using the exact same source that she discredited earlier in these proceedings."
"Your article was retracted," Ms. Martinez says. "This one wasn't. And this photo is a matter of public record."
Judge Weining shrugs. "She's got a point, counselor. Overruled."
"No more questions, your honor." Gary glares angrily at Cindi Martinez as he makes his way back to his seat.
Poor Oscar Bentz looks absolutely deflated, and I realize with mounting horror that he's just about at the end of his rope. The hearing is almost over, and right now the Daltons are looking like the greatest parents in the world since Joseph and Mary. On the other hand, my mom has come across as an opportunistic substance abuser, and SPECTRUM hasn't been able to shake the Nazi image slapped on them by the National Mirror. Things look grim, and I'm rapidly running out of hope.
"Anyone else, Mr. Bentz?" the judge asks, a trifle impatient.
Oscar Bentz rubs his eyes. "One more witness, your honor. We'd like to call Ray Miller to the stand, please."
"Objection, your honor," Ms. Martinez says. "It has already been established that Mr. Miller lacks the capability to decide for himself. That's why we're holding this hearing in the first place."
"It's been asserted, not established," Bentz says. "Since we're determining this boy's future, he deserves to have his say."
Judge Weining nods. "I'm afraid Mr. Bentz has a point, Ms. Martinez. I'll allow it if Mr. Miller is willing." The judge then looks directly at me and says, "Mr. Miller? Do you want to take the stand?"
Ms. Martinez's fingernails drum nervously next to me, and I can hear Rachel's foot tapping on the floor behind me. I know they're both waiting for me to decline, to end this hearing once and for all. But I can't. I can't just give up and let GenetiTech win.
"Yes, your honor," I call out. "I'll testify." Cindi Martinez's fingers are suddenly still, and Rachel lets out an exasperated breath.
The judge leans forward, touching his ear. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear him."
"He said yes, your honor," Oscar Bentz says triumphantly. "He will take the stand."
"Very well." The judge scratches his head, then turns to the bailiff. "Wally, could you please bring the boy over here? We'll be all day waiting for him to get here on his own power."
The bailiff walks over and awkwardly sets his hand on the table, palm up. I climb in and huddle in the center, as far from the sides as I can. He carries me to the stand and sets me on the small shelf just under the microphone. He then bends the microphone down so that it's right at the level of my face.
"Try that," he says to me with a friendly smile.
"Um, hello?" I say, startled to hear my voice broadcast through the room. It sounds ridiculously high-pitched, like a cartoon character. I honestly had no idea.
The bailiff rests the bible on the shelf next to me, and I place my hand on the rough leather cover. "Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"I do." My voice booms from the speakers, squeaky and silly. I wonder how come it doesn't sound like that when I'm just speaking normally.
"Mr. Miller," Oscar Bentz says, pacing back and forth in front of the witness stand. "Could you please describe your life at SPECTRUM?"
I take a deep breath and glance over the lip of the stand at Ms. Martinez and Rachel. They're both glaring angrily at me, doing their best to intimidate me. "I was happy at SPECTRUM," I say. "The people there were like family to me, and I miss them horribly."
"You've been living with your father since the end of May, correct?"
I nod, which is stupid since nobody can really see it. "That is correct," I answer.
"Can you describe your life at your father's house?"
The next five seconds pass with excruciating slowness. I look back and forth between the Daltons and my friends from SPECTRUM. Rachel has made all sorts of threats, both veiled and overt, if I should get up here and say the wrong thing. Most recently, she threatened to have Suzy killed - or, more accurately, raped and killed - if I didn't cooperate.
But Rachel operates in the shadows. And if I expose her threat, she won't dare act on it. Not without implicating herself. I'm positive of it, so certain that I'd bet my own life on it without hesitation. But how can I bet Suzy's? How can I possibly risk letting something horrible happen to her?
"Mr. Miller?" Bentz prods me. "Can you describe life at your father's house?"
Trembling, I lean into the microphone and say, "Alan, you need to protect Suzy. Don't let anything happen to her."
"Your honor!" Ms. Martinez bellows. "What kind of stunt is Mr. Bentz trying to pull here?"
"Keep her safe, Alan!" I shout. "Swear to me!"
"You got it, kid!" Alan calls to me, and Judge Weining bangs his gavel.
"No more outbursts from the gallery," the judge says. Then he glares at me. "Mr. Miller, I don't know what you think you're doing, but knock it off and answer the question."
The courtroom falls silent, and once again Bentz asks me, "Can you describe life at your father's house?"
And somewhere inside me, a dam breaks. I'm barely aware of what I'm saying as it spills out of my mouth.
"They keep me in a fishtank because they're afraid I'm going to run away. My father just ignores me and hasn't said more than a dozen words to me since I got there. He just leaves me in the hands of Naomi, who has done nothing but abuse me."
"Objection!" Ms. Martinez shouts.
"I've been in constant fear of my life from her. She treats me like a pet or a plaything, and she's always trapping me under her foot and threatening to stomp the shit out of me. And this one time, she got mad and she punished me by putting me in her pantyhose and leaving me there all night!"
"Your honor!" Ms. Martinez shouts again. "I object to this!"
"She and her neighbor Cheryl used to do horrible things to me. They said they would shove me down the garbage disposal or burn me with cigarettes if I didn't do what they said, and this one time Naomi got mad and destroyed this car that I got from my friend Sally at SPECTRUM!"
Ms. Martinez slaps the table with the palm of her hand. "Objection, your honor!"
The judge looks startled, as if hearing her for the first time. "Um, sustained," he says.
"And that stuff about the kidnapping? It's true," I ramble on gleefully, trembling as the words spill like bile from me. "Cheryl and her daughter kept me prisoner and would have killed me if Suzy hadn't saved me!"
"These remarks are slanderous, your honor," Ms. Martinez yells to be heard above my amplified voice. "I ask that they be stricken from the record."
"The objection has been sustained, Mr. Bentz," Judge Weining says. "You'd better control your witness."
"And Rachel Foster threatened me, too! She said she would let GenetiTech torture me, or she'd give me to Naomi and let her do whatever she wanted with me."
"Mr. Miller, that's enough," the judge says angrily.
"And then Rachel said that if I got up here and told the truth, she would see to it that Suzy wound up raped and murdered..."
Judge Weining bangs his gavel furiously. Cindi Martinez and Oscar Bentz are talking simultaneously, each trying to drown out the other. They've gone past the point of even talking intelligibly, and each just seems to be striving to make more noise than the other. Both Naomi and my mom are weeping, and Paul is in a shouting match with Gary and Louise. Alan stands next to a shocked, silent Suzy, and glowers menacingly towards Rachel. Rachel stares back with cold menace.
"That is ENOUGH!" the judge shouts, banging his gavel again and again. "I swear to God, I'll have Wally throw the lot of you in a cell if you don't shut the hell up RIGHT NOW!"
He glares at me. "You, Mr. Miller, obviously have issues with authority. If I hear so much as a peep out of you, I'll find someplace to imprison you as well."
The courtroom is silent once again, and Judge Weining lets out an exasperated sigh.
"Based on what I've heard, it's obvious Mr. Miller is in need of a firm but loving family. His outlandish tales disturb me, not because I believe them, because I don't, but because they seem the product of an unhealthy mind."
I stand there numbly, refusing to hear what's being said.
"Mr. and Mrs. Dalton, you seem to be fine and decent folks, and I have no doubt you can provide the nurturing environment that this boy so badly needs. As for his other special needs, the folks at GenetiTech seem willing to help, and I'm going to suggest that they add psychological counseling to their program."
My legs are weak and useless. I fall to my knees, desperately gasping for breath.
"I hereby remand Ray to the custody of his father, Paul Dalton, until his 18th birthday, at which point we will reconvene to determine whether or not he has the mental capacity to be considered an adult."
Gasps and murmurs from the gallery. Louise is crying and Suzy is clinging to Alan, who puts his arm protectively around her shoulders. He looks at me, his goofy grin gone, his eyes fierce. There's such determination in his face, and I wish I could take comfort from it.
You promised me, Alan, I think bitterly as I watch my friend across the courtroom. You promised you were going to get me back, no matter what. But the hearing's over and now it's too late.
I don't even get to say goodbye to my friends. Rachel marches across the courtroom and snatches me up roughly. "Oh, Ray," she whispers to me with a cruel smile. "You're really not going to enjoy the next two years very much." She shoves me into my carrier and takes me out of the courtroom, right behind Paul and Naomi.
"Congratulations, you guys," Ms. Martinez says, hugging Naomi and shaking Paul's hand. She lifts my carrier up and peeks at me through the mesh window. "Although I'd sure hate to be in this little guy's shoes right now." She grins maliciously at me. "Did you really think that was going to make a difference?"
I hang my head and say nothing. Ms. Martinez chuckles and says, "See you guys at dinner, I hope."
We're in the limo, on our way back to the hotel. I'm still in my carrier, now riding in Naomi's lap. I can hear her fingers rapping anxiously on the side, and I find myself trembling at the thought that very soon, I'll be at her mercy.
"Those things Ray was saying," Paul says uncertainly. "Were they... I mean, did any of it..."
"Oh, Paul," Naomi says with a dismissive chuckle. "Puh-lease. He's been looking for an excuse to get back at me ever since I fired Suzy."
"Yeah, that makes sense." Paul sighs with obvious relief. "I'm sorry I even asked, Naomi. I guess it's just been a stressful day."
"The ordeal's over now," Rachel tells him. "I'm sure SPECTRUM will appeal, but I wouldn't worry about it. In two weeks, you'll be settled in your new home and GenetiTech will be able to begin their study of Ray." She leans forward and looks at me. "Dr. Taylor is really anxious to get started."
"Cindi was hoping to take us out for a celebratory dinner tonight," Rachel tells the Daltons once we're back in the hotel room. I'm still in my carrier, now sitting on the dresser. "She and her associates wanted to take us to The Mansion on Turtle Creek."
"That sounds great," Paul says. He points at me and adds, "What about the boy?"
"I can get someone from security to watch him for you," Rachel says. "I mean, if you're afraid of going off and leaving him alone."
"What do you say, Naomi?" Paul says, sitting down on the bed next to her. "You up for a fancy dinner tonight?"
Naomi shakes her head. "I'm tired, and I've got a little bit of a headache. You guys go ahead and go. I'll stay here and keep Ray company."
"You sure?" Paul stands up. "Okay, then. I'll bring you back something."
As Paul and Rachel are leaving, Rachel calls, "Goodnight, Naomi." Then, with a touch of irony in her voice, she adds, "You and Ray have fun."
As soon as they're out the door, Naomi walks over and kneels down in front of the dresser so she can look at me. I'm still cowering in the back of my carrier, desperately praying for a miracle to deliver me from what lies ahead.
"You know, I still think your daddy is screwing that woman," she says. "But I guess I can't really blame him for it. God knows I probably drove him to it by fucking Benny Doyle."
She smiles wistfully, then stands up. I feel the carrier tremble as she grabs it and lifts it into the air. Peeking nervously through the window, all I can see is the pink fabric of her dress, just under the swell of her breasts.
Suddenly, the carrier shakes violently, hurtling me against the foamed wall with a painful thump. I try to scream out as I bounce about the inside of the carrier, slamming into the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Finally the violent shaking stops, and the carrier tilts backwards. I fall onto my back and slide along the floor until I tumble against the back wall.
The window is now over my head, and Naomi peers down at me through the screen mesh. "Oops," she says with a giggle. "Sorry about that."
I can feel the soft thud of her steps as she carries me across the room, staring at me the entire time with that infuriating grin. There's a bouncing sensation as she plops down on the bed. Then she opens the door on the carrier. "I think it's time for you to come out now, little boy."
I shout angrily as my carrier rotates again. I manage to dig my fingers into the soft foam floor of my cage as it tilts in the opposite direction. Nervously, I glance downward through the open door at the beige carpet beneath me.
"Come on, you little shit," Naomi mutters, thumping the sides of the carrier like a ketchup bottle in an effort to shake me out. Finally, she taps the upturned cage against the floor, which jars me loose. I slide and bounce along the floor of the carrier, plummet through the door, and land roughly on the carpet.
"Ooh, there we go," Naomi says, tossing the carrier onto the bedspread beside her. She sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at me with wicked glee. Her bare feet are to either side of me, her toes wiggling slowly and seductively. I raise my head and stare helplessly at the pink polish on her nails, at the numerous indentions in her skin left by the tight straps of her sandals.
Her high-heeled sandals, pink and strappy, lie overturned and discarded on the carpet, just under the edge of the bed. I look beyond them, at the cavernous safety under the bed, and wonder if I could make it there before she stopped me. It's a king-sized bed and if I can just make it under, I might be able to fend her off until Paul and Rachel get back.
I make a break for it, darting recklessly between her feet. But Naomi is ready for me. She lifts her left foot and slams it down on the carpet, blocking my path. Unable to stop in time, I stumble into the side of her foot and fall to my knees.
"Oh good," she says, flicking me with her big toe and knocking me sprawling. "I was hoping I'd get to punish you for something." Lying on my back, I cringe as her wrinkled sole hovers over me. With torturous slowness, she lowers her foot on top of me, pinning me beneath her toes as she has so many times before.
"We've got about two or three hours before your daddy and that Rachel woman get back," Naomi says to me quite reasonably. "I'm thinking a nice, long bath might be in order."
The tub is immense, sculpted from white marble and adorned with gold fixtures. Right now, Naomi is reclining in the tub, with bubbles coming up to her chin. Her bare leg rests on the side of the tub, her foot sticking straight up. And of course, I'm squirming as she grinds me between her soapy toes.
A half-full glass of champagne, raided from the mini-bar, sits on the shelf within easy reach. There's a phone in the wall just outside the tub, and Naomi is on it right now. The cord stretches downward to where the headset rests between her shoulder and her ear.
"Debbie?" Naomi says sweetly. "Yeah, that's right." She glares at me suddenly and pinches her toes together. I yelp with pain, then reluctantly return to kissing her big toe. Naomi says, "Well, tell Nicole that Ray is now an official member of the family. She has a new big brother." She giggles. "Or little brother. I don't know how that works."
Debbie's voice chatters excitedly but unintelligibly on the line, and Naomi beams. "Thanks, sweetie. We should be home sometime tomorrow." Another pause, then another giggle. "Well, everybody else went out to celebrate, but I decided I'd rather stay here. I'm having a bath with Ray right now." She winks at me and squeezes me between her toes again.
"Well, of course sweetie. I know you'd love to personally welcome Ray to the family." She laughs again gives me one more playful pinch. "Okay, Debbie. I will. Love you too. Bye."
She hangs up the phone, then reaches for her drink. She takes a gulp and giggles as the bubbles tickle her nose. "I hope you don't have anything planned for tomorrow night," she tells me, shifting her foot so I can't look away from her. "Debbie and I have something very special in mind."
I glare at her angrily, but don't respond. There's nothing I can say.
Naomi clears her throat. "I didn't tell you to stop kissing that toe, did I?" I return to my duties, but it's too late. She lifts her foot from the edge of the tub and, still grasping me painfully tight, plops it into the water. I kick and squirm under the water, my eyes screwed shut to keep out the stinging soap and oil. I writhe in the grip of her toes, feeling it loosen slightly. Then I suddenly slip free and bob to the surface. I flail my arms to knock away a hole in the wall of suds on top of the water. I tread water wearily, gasping for air.
The water rushes and churns beneath me as Naomi sits up and moves around inside the tub. She reaches for me and plucks me up with her finger and thumb. She leans back once again, sighing as she sinks back down into the bath. Then she flicks my erection with her fingernail a couple of times and, giggling, sets me in between her breasts.
"I own you, little boy," she whispers to me, her fingers stroking her nipples just under the surface of the water. Even through the floating lather, I can see them growing stiff as she fondles them. "I can do whatever I want to you, and there's not a person you can tell that will care."
Her hands slide down deeper into the water, out of sight. I can feel her heart thumping through her warm, wet flesh. She squirms and moans a couple of times as her hands do their magic beneath the surface. At last, she spasms and relaxes with a weary sigh.
She's right, I realize. Paul will choose not to believe me, and Nicole will be helpless to offer me anything other than sympathy. And Rachel... well, Rachel was more than happy to deliver me into Naomi's hands after my little stunt in the courtroom.
I am so screwed.
Giantess World
Homunculus by Cayce