Chapter 8 - Surprise III

   Mike turned JG loose after they took lunch. Mike said they'd been working long days for a couple weeks, and even some seven day weeks. On something. Its not anything I'm on, and the watchword at the FBI is compartmentalization. Loose lips sink ships, need to know, all that. It generally is a great strategy, although it sometimes creates its own even bigger fiasco. When the right hand and the left hand are in their own compartments? They sometimes run into each other in the field. Then? You have two surveillance teams. Both on the same team, mind you. Equally matched, keeping tabs on each other instead of the quarry each side has located.

   One of Mike's jobs? Is he's trusted to try to limit that. Which means he's one of the few people at the bureau, who has access to nearly everything. To prevent that huge waste of resources. I know better than to even ask. If I needed to know, I already would. If Mike wanted me to know anyways, again I already would.

   We left early from Wrightsville, where we're out of. Its a couple hours to get out of Pennsylvania from north central sticks, then a couple hours to DC. Lightning's place is about half way there, going by time. We picked Junior up, and headed off. I texted Light. Kidnap successful. JG never asked what was up. Another clue to me. All he needs to know, is that we're headed to Zar's place, and not for work. For R&R. That's all he needed to know.

   Little Lightning's apartment building, and its quite nice of one? A little upscale. Definitely a step up from the apartment she had in the city. Bigger, newer, nicer. With what she's been through a couple times in her life? She lives in a security building. Not that it keeps anyone serious out, but as Panic would say. Keeps the low level riffraff out.

   Big enough of an area, there's things to do. Not the city, though. Which is its own reward.

   When you get a decent apartment? Its generally a fresh, neat, crisp white paint job. All over. Its meant to allow you to pick your palette. Any color does fine with white as the base color. You can deepen your chosen shade, with a second coat.

   Lightning left it all pristine white. People that have been through things, most reports and studies confirm... do either the same or a little better, with all white. As someone trained in the psychology field? White signals purity, as well as peace and calm. Think fluffy white clouds. A girl that was drugged and gang raped for profit, by her own mother of all things? Had to live feeling like human garbage for four more years after it ended. And that's how the town treated her for the duration of her sentence, until she escaped.

   I'm sure the purity of white around her every morning and night, can't hurt any. She was already home ahead of us. Like I said, her apartment is all white on white. The first major feature you encounter when you get to the main room, is the giant wraparound leather overstuffed and quite comfortable couch. When she got this place and had her first taste of a doubled income, it was her first major purchase to treat herself a little. And I mean, go figure its white.

   She was on the big white couch when we got in, and she was the main color in the room. Black tights or yoga pants, and a zip up shirt that looks like a cross between nurse's scrubs and something a department store would issue to employees. Nice kitchen, too. Decent size for an apartment. Seeing her finishing the meal she had on hold for us? Gives me one of those little stabs of emotion. Me and Wizzy? Taught her to cook real food for herself. And? I taught her that its something guys really like, after the mattress acrobatics are over.

   As some guy somewhere once quipped and got quoted on it. I'm a guy, and we're no mystery. You wanna make a guy happy? And I mean just about any guy. Easy. Have us over and make us a steak. You want the guy even happier, a six pack of beer can't hurt your case any. Optional? Answer the door naked. We're men, we're not that complicated. Steak, beer, blowjob.

   Another little stab of emotion. She made chili for the main course. Rice and mashed potatoes in big pots for side dishes. Rice is rice, and the mashed potatoes was from me, my grandma's way of making them. But... chili was the first real dish she learned to make, and Wizzy taught her.

   Panic once worked in a pizza shop, so he can make scratch pizza dough. He doesn't even weigh or measure anything. He can do it all by eye. He taught her the basic recipe, then how to feel by touch if you needed to add water or flour to get consistency. Humidity and temperature and air pressure and elevation make an exact recipe impossible.

   While this has her making pizza from scratch? Not an ability any guy would complain about, I think. Panic got her to make a small pizza dough, and to sandwich it between two stainless steel bowls to make a bread bowl. It holds the chili, you get to eat the bowl as you eat the chili.

   She's still eating her chili "Wizzy style". There's a pot of cheap boxed macaroni and cheese, too. He liked a bed of rice, then the chili over it. Topped off with a scoop or two of mashed potatoes, maybe some grated cheese. He also liked chili over macaroni and cheese, for the next day leftovers.

   It took us a while to drag it out of her. Hew newest cutter is up to speed and doing fine. This, lowers the workload and spreads it out some. Now, they can all go back to taking days off, or not working longer than 8 hours at a stretch. This, bought her the ability to finally do something she's been meaning to get back to doing. Dancing.

   She was a trained dancer, from a toddler to when the storm hit at 14. She danced on roller skates and ice skates, too. She speed skates as well, but that's all for fun. Her passion was dancing.

   After what she went through, leaping and cavorting for men in skimpy outfits was off the table. An old soccer ball she found, became literally her best friend. That's Teddy Ball. He's still with her, and he's more or less her teddy bear. Teddy holds a prominent spot right on her bed.

   She used to talk to him, and... he talked back to her. He told her what she had to do to get out of hell. She wasn't psychotic. Teddy didn't move around on his own, and she did his voice. Still, though. He was her only friend for 4 long years. When this came out in her therapy, she asked me how nuts that was. I told her the truth. I can remember talking to my favorite horse growing up, and I did his voice talking back to me.

   If you think its funny to throw Teddy around, or hide him or play keep away? Or tease her with any hint of meanness in it. You won't get warned more than once or twice. At best, you'll never be over again, ever. You also run the risk of an ostrich attack. That's what it got nicknamed. She smiles, and inches in... then if you can imagine getting kicked full force in the jimmy, by a girl who was a goal scoring star at one of the biggest universities in the tough mid-west conference? Yeah.

   If you fuck with Teddy or with her over Teddy... you won't have to imagine it for long. You also ran the risk of an ostrich attack, if you threatened her Wizzy or even fucked with him too much and he was trying to ignore it. It would piss her off before him. In that case? You didn't just get the Lightning ostrich attack's first strike.

   She moves in for the kill, and goes after your head and ribs while you're balled up on the ground. The years she spent alone with Teddy coaching her? Paid off something fierce. She came to us as a freshman mega star my coach was hysterically ecstatic to have landed.

   She can literally walk around, talking to you? While bouncing the soccer ball on her head. She can head it off at will, and hit where she aims. I've never seen any other soccer star, male or female? Who was able to "drop" the head ball juggling, down behind their back. And lift the heel of a foot to pop it back up. She practices kicking into a corner, and can kind of pinball the ball in and out of the corner. The ball gets going so fast, off her right and left feet, its a blur.

   I've seen her do it in the dark, and once blindfolded for a short time, for her practice video she made in college. Its like she's not human, to see what she can do with a soccer ball. To this day, sometimes when she jogs she takes Teddy with her. While jogging? She can hit marks on cement walls she's passing, and it always comes back to the instep of her foot and right back into the jog.

   Its not unknown for Teddy to go out to eat or to work with her, too.

   Before you say she's psychotic? Its not. Its neurotic.

   Once I learned what all had happened to her, and what she had to endure for 4 more years after? I know what that was, from psychology. Its an induced OCD. She had zero control over her life, and had nothing. Teddy taught her to be perfect.

   Yeah, Teddy did it. The top stars in quad A high schools across the country? The west and the east all square off once a year, if you're invited to the national all stars finals. She led her side to victory, but never got to see it. Before her winning impossible goal shot went in? A big full back creamed her and sent her flying. She lost memory of the last quarter of the game.

   She woke up in the hospital, with her coach watching over her. She got to see her winning goal at the last minutes of the game. The gut wrenching video of the head injury, too. And, her best news ever. Colleges were ringing the coach's phone off the hook, trying to get her to come play. Her coaches picked our university. They said she needed to be at some big school, with a serious athletic program for girls soccer. Plus, one that had slipped and would treasure her.

   The coach had zeroed in on the star wing for the west team in the national all stars final series. He won her, too. He was quite proud of his coup, then? He said he about fell over. Out of the blue, in comes a phone call. Hey, I'm Little Lightning's high school coach. She interested in your program.

   Coach told me, as I worked in his office 15 hours a week for a school job? He thought it was a practical joke. She clearly had some kind of "slight issues", but... you see her play? You no longer care.

   To look at her, even now. She's always been 5'11" in her socks, but its deceptive. She weighs more than you think. She has the legs of a much taller girl. I'm only an inch taller than her, but I got the big oversize thighs and calves. The giant bones for a girl. And when you see her dance? Yeah, those legs were made for dancing. Teddy Ball just re-purposed her legs and dance training and talent.

   Not only is she that damn good, she's not a ball hog. You have to double team her to even have a chance of shutting her down. Which means, there's always someone open. Her passes are as fast and as accurate as her goal shots.

   Coach told me once early on in private, and not to repeat it, but... he really can't teach her anything, about ball handling and goal scoring. Then, there's the matter of her intensity level. Practice? Like a game. A game? Like a playoff. A playoff, like its the national championship.

   One of the perks he offered, was townhouse living. Only starting athletes, get the townhouse. That meant he was committed to her starting, from the first game. This, ruffled feathers. The older girls were jealous and picking on her. Which was one thing. But, they sicced a big bull dyke on her. And I think you get the picture, what was going on in the locker room and the showers.

   When his biggest star disappeared from practices? He put me on it. She had her bags packed, but couldn't leave. The last thing you can do to a girl that was drugged and gang raped, then made fun of for it for the next 4 years? Is that. Took me all weekend to drag it out of her, what the problem was. Coach had me solve it. I actually knocked the captain and co captain around, and bounced a bunch of other older girls around, until they got the message loud and clear. You touch her, you so much as look at her wrong? Your ass is mud. No negotiations.

   I put her in the corner of the showers, and you had to physically go through me, to get near her. I put her locker at the very end of the line, the dead end by the wall. So the bull dyke can't even see her, let alone touch her.

   What I admit started as just me doing the coach a favor. Being den mother to her living with me in my townhouse I was head of household for on paper. I was den mother to our young starting line. But, the favor turned into more. I'd never had a best friend that was girl before. I became the big sister, surrogate mother, and her bodyguard. On the field, and off it. The close friendship will end one day, but... unless something drastic happens? It will only be after one of us dies.

   She's done this before. She worked on a routine, dancing. For a workout, for her own fun. If you don't take the dance classes, a small fee per month allows you to have a studio to work out and practice in, if it isn't during class schedules. Owners of dance studios? Get extra money per month coming in, for nothing. You just can't run your own class or lessons out of their place.

   So, after a couple months, she shopped around. One of the few advantages of the city, is a huge number of bars and clubs. So many in fact, they all have themes and vie for patrons. Sports bar, hook up bar, jazz and piano bar. She found a jazz and piano bar, and asked if she could try her dance routine, between musician sets. No cost. She just wanted to perform, for fun.

   After her audition for the owners. This, is free? Why not. She got free drinks and food, and was allowed to sit in the reserved section, for performers only. So that's her big surprise. She wants us to come and see her dance. We get to sit in the reserved section. Every performer is allowed to have a guest any night they perform, and they get the seating and free drinks and food as well. Since she's built up so many no-guest nights? We can all go, she cleared it.

   I know what she's doing. She's standing on her head, and walking on her hands. Its just a phrase, but its accurate. I don't even have to close my own eyes to remember myself doing it. I zeroed in on Panic coming into my steakhouse I was a waitress at. The other girls knew, and were having fun teasing me. It was like I didn't exist. The one quipped wise. Merry, why don't you try standing on your head and walking around on your hands. Maybe he'll notice you then.

   So? She's standing on her head. You think its an accident JG doesn't have his own car this weekend? Ha. He's trapped. FBI agents don't get overtime. Its salary. If you have to work seven days a week, 16 hour days for a stretch? You do it. Its expected of you. When the crunch is off? Your superior is supposed to send you home early or give you days off.

   If this goes at all well, I already know Mike's going to call and tell him to enjoy a longer weekend, thanks for being a sport. And if Junior starts working his big brain on it all? He'll arrive at thinking Panic and Mike worked this out. Its just like high school, I swear. If you pretend you're not noticing, you can catch it. He looks at her when he thinks he's getting away with it and no one's noticing. He's being polite.

   I know from Panic, what the root of the problem is. When the modern ultra decadence, anything goes lifestyle took hold, then started going for broke? Ordinary, everyday people. Carrying on just like only the idle rich historically did. There was a push back. It was online. Panic and Junior grew up and came of age during this.

   As an example, when Panic demonstrated it for me? He showed a cute little video clip that had gone around. Basically, a half decent made one minute documentary. I know I'll never forget it. It started with dramatic war footage of world war two. The guy was talking about how horrible Nazi Germany was. How this had to be stopped. Because the world, and particularly America? Wanted to keep good values. The Nazi's? Wanted to take over and ruin it for everyone. Quickly though, a smooth segue. The music changed, and the video changed with it. All was calm and peace. Idyllic people, on some small old fashioned farm.

   And what would those good values we wanted desperately to keep, even be. One place, had great ideas. They were coming out of the great depression. It was worldwide, it wasn't limited to the great American depression. This was before world war two, so the baby boom after hadn't happened yet. They wanted more consumers and workers, to boost the economy. So? They enacted a plan. If a young man and a young woman, were judged to both be healthy and reasonably intelligent? When they got married, there was a program.

   The government had a low interest loan, for young couples just married to get into owning a house and a little property. When you had your first healthy child? They took 20 percent of the balance of the loan off. Have another healthy child? Another twenty percent off. It should be clear, that all any young couple had to do? Get the easy loan for the house and property. Have five kids? The house and property were free, minus only the payments already made. Which were as cheap or cheaper than rent at the time. This, made the people happy. The economy? Began to boom. Every two people, were being replaced by five more healthy people. The government was happy, the economy was happy, and the people were happy.

   The leaders had advertising. Good values were what was expected of you. Women? Were encouraged to exercise. So were the men. Good food, good honest work, good values. The main leader, what we would today in America call the president? Was a non smoker. Mostly a vegetarian. He hardly ever drank alcohol, he preferred herbal tea. He liked Shirley Temple movies, and would show the films at lavish parties. He liked to paint oil paintings, though he was no great artist. He was fanatical about the environment and loved all animals. He was always feeding birds and squirrels, and was always seen petting dogs and cats.

   It ended with the voice over asking. Wow. This sounds great. Wonderful, really. Where was this magical place? Click here, to find out. You were taken to a ten minute documentary, which showed you proof. With historical film, audio, and pictures. This? Was previous to world war two, Nazi Germany. The next click here? Took you to a half hour documentary. Which showed you modern American ideas, from the here and now.

   Panic then explained to me. We all hear about these damn online new Nazis and how horrible they are. Spreading their lies and filth. How we have to police the internet, to put a stop to this, before its too late. He explained to me. Go, take a look at... the craziness today. Then? Go look at what was going on in Germany, before the war.

   He showed me a famous clip that went around. All the young women, were in town square. It was morning exercise. All these young, healthy, athletic looking women. One pretty girl, was up on a giant leather ball. Standing on it, smiling. She could walk around on that big ball, she had the balance and grace to do it.

   He explained to me. This? Is what men want. Pretty, healthy, women. That want to get married and have a couple kids. The men? Go off to work. They make more money, because the women are almost all at home. Not sucking up all the high paying easy jobs. Men don't want the women of today. All tattooed up, dressing like hookers. Working until they're barely able to bear a child. Your wife? Has fucked every guy in the zip code already. She comes to you, pushing 40. Kids to lord knows who, different dad for each one.

   The people arguing against the modern craziness? Boiled down the message for people to digest easily. Men prefer debt free virgins, without tattoos. How did the powers that be online respond? Ah, you're all a bunch of Nazis. Why, its one small step from this? To Nazi Germany, and eugenics all over again.

   And that was when he explained what eugenics was. Every farmer knows, and every biologist knows. You want taller horses? Put the tallest female and male horse in the same pasture. You'll tend to get taller horses. It happens quick, too. Dog breeders do it, farmers do it, biologists do it. And guess what? Yeah, it works on people, too. Stupid mother and father? Guess what you get for kids, on average. Of course, if you breed for higher IQ and pick a mom and dad with brains, guess what you get then.

   Then, he showed me the official medical statistics. Average IQ, by country. We're bringing in, for American and western Europe? Millions of people with national IQ averages, of as low as 65. In America? That's mentally retarded! Millions of years of evolution, and we're now going in reverse. Fast.

   He explained to me. He thinks, the main problem here? Is two things. One, Light is our age. JG, is a little younger. He also knows, because of the one big case he was instrumental in solving... well, he knows. Some. A basic overview of what happened to her, when young. JG has this big brain. Not unlike Panic's. The mother? Was a whore. And not just a phrase, she was a whore's whore. The madam. A criminal, who had the most horrible values that one can imagine. And, when he stands back and gets that big brain turning. Tall, pretty, athletic. Smart, great career. At her age? Why is this still on the market, never been snatched up and married, not once.

   I told him. Its your kind of guy. The computers, the electronics, the tech. This is your nut to crack. He nodded. I'll see what I can do.

   We were done eating, and just all kind of sitting around in the living room. Panic and JG were on one end of the big white couch, me and Zar were on the other. The boys wanted a beer, and she had some kind of pumpkin beer. Normally made only around the Halloween holiday, she had snatched several cases up when they went on sale, a couple months after the season ended. If you look under what appears to be a corner table with a pretty white tablecloth on it? With a few things handy for the kitchen out to grab on it. Its the stacks of the cases, marked down over time to entice people to buy them after the season ended, to make room for the next season specialties at the distributor. What had started off as 50 dollar cases of premium dark pumpkin spice ale? She bought 5 cases for the price of one.

   I know why. JG had a couple at the range, one of the guys had brought a case of the good stuff and handed them out. She found it on sale by accident buying soft drinks at the distributor? Hey. The guy I like, enjoys this. Standing on her head, basically. All but juggling with her feet, while doing it.

   Panic leaned over into my ear, while Lightning was off rummaging around, looking for something. I nodded. She had found what she was looking for when I found her, it was in her hands. An adult coloring book. The biggest fold out assortment of colored pencils I could imagine. I know what comes next. This, is leisure time. She's going to do an adult coloring, laying face down on the floor in front of her giant TV. And if we don't preempt her programming schedule with another choice? I know what she'll be watching.

   One of her zillion channels on her TV package? Is a string of black and white channels. Her favorite, is the one that runs nothing but old black and white movies. All dancing and singing and song and dance movies. She knows she can find Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies, then a Gene Kelley. She likes Marilyn Monroe, too.

   As her former therapist, I know what all this is. Too well. Before 14 and "it" struck? She thought she was the happiest kid ever walked the earth. A bigger TV than most houses in her town had. As long as she followed the rules, like never answering the door for strangers? The biggest cable package they had at the time, streaming wasn't the thing yet like today. Every weekend, there were black and white movies to be seen. With people dancing, like she wanted to do when she grew up. Sex was hinted at, never seen. And to her peers? She was living the life. All those channels, and none of them on mom lock out. All those coloring books, and crayons and felt tips and colored pencils. I can set my watch, by her going and getting some snack for it, too.

   All I added to what I knew was coming? I handed her the Bluetooth headphones. I smiled. We wanted to talk some, would she indulge me? Sure. No argument.

   Next thing you know, there she is. Giant unfolded box of colored pencils. An adult coloring book. Headphones on, black and white dancing movie. Gene Kelley was going nuts, doing the high end, acrobatic tap dancing. Running at the wall, and doing back flips from it. Kicking the crash cymbal of the drummer there at times to the music he was tapping to. I think that's Gene Krupa, only because Panic told me. He used to be a drummer when he was young, and that was one of the original best drummers of all time back then, before he was born. I don't know for sure that's him, but whoever he is... he's playing that little drum set like two jack rabbits fucking on cocaine, and it sounds like he's got this gigantic modern rock drum set. Open your eyes, though? It looks like a little kid's practice drum set.

   The dancing, is Chinese acrobatic incredible. The music, is a high end energetic and complicated jazzy big band number. The drummer, is some kind of god of his day. There's some pretty woman doing the torch singing that was popular at big clubs. She wasn't there because she was pretty and could drag the tune in a bucket behind her. She sounds like a singer that had the talent, and had years of voice training on top of it.

   Light looks for all the world? Like a young girl.

   "Junior. You want pumpkin two?"

   He wiggled his empty.

   "Sure."

   Panic brought two back.

   "Hey, Panic. Its warm."

   "Tell you what. Try it warm. Take a swig. If you don't like it? I'll get you one of the cold ones, and I'll drink your warm one."

   He took an exploratory sip, then a bigger one. He nodded. His face showed it. Warm? Wow, it worked.

   "We got a little privacy now, JG. Look around you. What do you see?"

   He glanced, then shrugged.

   "Nice apartment."

   "Listen. You hear any kids screaming?"

   "No."

   "Me neither. How about from outside. You hear any... car alarms, car crashes. Fights, gun shots..."

   "No. Nice, quiet little neighborhood."

   "Yeah. I like coming here. And look around. I know we both enjoyed those... clean your room memes. You see a damn thing, out of place? A speck of dirt, anywhere. And everything's bright white. You'd notice."

   He did look around a little.

   "We call this? Serial killer clean."

   "Well, just like the Nazi's had a few good ideas, I guess that's the good thing serial killers do."

   They both giggled and clinked glass bottles.

   "Its Friday night, Junior. Where do the modern turbo whores go, what do they do."

   "Free drinks at the best dance club they can find. Turbo option on."

   "Yeah. You, uh... ever pop in and that's where she's at?"

   "Never once."

   "Yeah. She ever yell at you, you have to call before stopping in, if you're going past?"

   "No."

   "That's because she doesn't have a string of guys lined up. One for every day of the week. She doesn't wanna go out clubbing."

   "You bragging?"

   "A little. But bear me out."

   "Okay."

   "Look at the framed pictures on the walls. What do you see a lot of."

   He already knew.

   "Old movie actors. The big dancers and singers."

   "Yeah. She's, all about... retro. She doesn't like to stream music off her phone, those little earbuds. She has the old fashioned MP3 player, and wears real headphones. Look at all the DVDs and CDs she collects. Everyone else? Went to Blu-Ray, and streaming."

   JG snorted.

   "Yeah. So they can control what we watch and listen to."

   "Not her. Mind, of, her, own. And she ain't no normie. Merry? Would you toss me that tablet? Thanks..."

   He tapped around on the internet a little. He showed him something, and they both were looking approvingly at, well? Something.

   "JG. I know you like that. Hell, you know I like it too. Look at my girl. Tall. Smart. Healthy. Strong. Good values, too."

   "You potato niggers, do love to brag after the first beer."

   Panic grinned back.

   "We sure do. In my book, if it wasn't for the Germans? We'd have been the master race. I mean I could maybe be a little biased, being a potato nigger and all, but what the hell."

   They clinked glass bottles again.

   "Like I always tell you, Panic. For a potato nigger? You ain't half bad."

   Panic nodded. In their world, speaking in martian? This, was a compliment.

   "Now. Watch this, little buddy."

   "Okay."

   "Merry?"

   He pointed at his ears. I tapped her, and she lifted her headphones off. Looked back at us.

   "Hmm."

   "Honey? I was wondering. You know that... big ball you work out with?"

   "My medicine ball. Its what the old timers called those things."

   "Yeah. We got a bet going. Junior here, he thinks you can do it. Me? I don't know. You game?"

   "Depends. What."

   "Think you can stand on the ball?"

   "Hmm. Never tried it. But tell you what. The movie's almost over. I came in late. Let me see the big song and dance number. The singer, and the dancer? Are gonna make up and get back together. You boys let me enjoy my happy ending I like... I'll see what I can do for you. Deal?"

   "Deal."

   She went back to headphones, adult coloring, and watching the happy ending. The last couple spoonfuls of the ice cream in her bowl as well. Again, a snack like a little kid would want for TV and coloring time. And that, is another thing I know from therapy and psychology. Its no accident, that she likes the happy endings almost all black and white movies had. When she was done, she needed no further prompting. A challenge? Could she do it? She's up for that.

   This was the girl that came from flatland, and marveled at the rolling hills we had at our university. She got a used snowboard, and would make ramps and do tricks on the thing in the winters. Dancer's agility, grace and balance. Never got a real injury once. We all tried it, in our townhouse in college that winter. I can barely do "bunny slope" and little bumps. She was soon making bigger ramps with a snow shovel, and wanted longer, steeper hills. One of the boys townhouses, they used to work on old dirt bikes and little street bikes there. They had found an old two stroke snowmobile in a junk yard somewhere, and got it working. They would run the tow rope behind them and take the snowboard people up the hill, so they could concentrate on taking runs and doing tricks. The rest of us would watch. We would giggle and hold up our phones. Someone had an app that got passed around. You could hold up "5.2" or "7.3", like Olympics judges.

   Her first few tries were almost comic. She would slip and on the big heavy ball, it rolled her as she came down. There was no disaster, though. She could always twist and roll off the ball. Within five minutes, she was starting to get several or more seconds at a time. And no more near disasters, either. She could just anticipate the fail, and land on her feet.

   Somewhere around, I don't even know, maybe twenty or so minutes into this? She started standing on it much longer. Maybe a half hour in, we were already telling her to quit, and she refused. This, was some new physical challenge. She started doing it, and standing mainly still. What used to be wavering fails coming, were now just adjustments on her part. She gave us a running commentary, too.

   "Okay. I think I about got this. Its... you first have to stand right, and that's, like... a big duh. But... you just can't lift your foot. You have to slide it. To compensate if you start to move."

   She was now standing for 30 seconds at a time, without the jiggling. The jiggles, had turned to little foot slides. She gave a little "ta-DA", then giggled.

   "I need some kind of, what do they call it? A... dismount, I guess."

   She started coming off the ball planned now, with little hops, jumps, and finally got so into it, she wanted to try a trick.

   "Hmm. I think, I can do a 360... maybe..."

   Another five minutes, and she had going from two feet to one foot down, and, tried to spin. She started with a quarter turn, then a half turn. She had to figure something out, what you couldn't fathom, then... she finally got a 360, and recovered from the ending jiggles. The next five minutes had her showing off her first trick. Now, she started watching her arms and hands for more than just balance. She wanted it to look smooth and artistic. Like a dancer.

   "Hmm. Maybe... I could..."

   She started getting up on the balls of her feet, and it looked like she was trying to jump. She couldn't jump right away, but got some bounce going. She finally got a tiny air moment.

   "Okay... because if I can leave the ball, I should be able to..."

   She went up a few inches, and moved her feet apart a few inches in the air, then back together. To a wiggling recovery, but stayed up. After a couple minutes, she could do a little hop up and bring her feet out a little and back to land on the ball.

   When she was done, she stood there regarding the big ball, tapping her lips with her index finger.

   "I think if I played with this for a couple weeks? I could do this. Which is what I really want to do, now that I know I can jump a little bit now."

   She started with a pose and her feet together but on the balls of her feet, did a jump and went into a split in the air, and landed with her feet perfectly on the balls again.

   "And what I'm thinking, is that if I can get good at this, on the ball..."

   She did several twirls, one leg bent and back into her starting pose.

   "I'm wondering, how good of practice this would be. For balance. I mean, its not enough to not fall down, you always want more balance and control, not just enough."

   Next thing you know, she's now just standing there. On the big ball, talking to us. Not much recovering needed.

   "Yeah! Teddy needs to see this! Merry? Will you go grab Teddy? Don't tell him... its a surprise."

   I came back with the inestimable Teddy Ball. She looked at him in her hands, and asked him.

   "All right, Teddy. Think we can do this?"

   She put him to her ear.

   "Okay. Let's try."

   She got standing still, and put her head back, slowly. She got him to sit still, on the bridge of her nose. After a couple tries, he stayed there. She put her arms out, with one of those... graceful dancer poses you always see them doing.

   "Okay, Teddy. Just sit there, okay? Here, we, go."

   She jumped into a split in mid air, and landed with her feet together on the carpet in front of the ball, and Teddy had stayed on her face. Another little "ta-DA" motion, and the vocalization you'd expect to go with it. We were congratulating her, but she was interested in studying Teddy and the bigger medicine ball.

   "You know, Merry's seen me do this, a million times..."

   She easily stood on Teddy, and stayed up as long as she wanted.

   "And that? Took me, like, forever to get that down pat. This bigger ball? Is, like... way, way easier to learn to do stuff on. You know what I'm thinking?"

   Of course we didn't.

   "The bigger the ball? The easier it is. I mean, I learned to stand on Teddy like this, but... moving him around? Couldn't get it going. And, that's my fault? Not, Teddy's fault. But... I'm thinking..."

   She started standing back up on the big ball, and started inching it forwards and backwards. Within a minute or two, she started moving forwards slowly, then stopping.

   "If I could get a bigger ball? This, would actually be easy. I could probably dance a little on a big one. Maybe. I'm pretty sure, I could walk around and hit the spot you point at next. I mean, the bigger the ball? The more you're, like, cheating."

   Panic, was pointing at something on the tablet screen. Showing it to JG, and then pointing at her. I glanced over. They were looking at the old video. The pretty German girl up on the giant ball, and everyone cheering as she showed off her balance and agility.

   I could see JG's cogs turning, through his forehead.