SECURITY GUARD MOM

Jenette really didn’t want to return to work after being a house wife for eighteen years.  She had held out as long as possible, but with six girls, ages seven to eighteen, and the life insurance money running out, she had to.  
She had been looking for work for over three months.  She applied for secretarial jobs, but they wanted someone young, pretty, and up with all the latest software programs.  She had also applied for sales jobs because she had been an Avon Representative for many years, but still there were no offers.  She’d contacted the employment agencies, those organizations that sent temporary help to companies, but times were tough and they had more than enough applicants.
The only offer she had was from Mr. Thompson, her next door neighbor, as a security guard for his agency.  He contracted with businesses and companies to provide their in-house security force when they didn’t have their own or need extra help.  
She thought, “Imagine me being a security guard . . . would I really be able to hit someone over the head with a baton.  She thought back to her career aspirations in high school and college.  She had studied to be an artist.  She graduated from The Boston School of Fine Arts with a Bachelor of Fine Arts Degree.  Then spent two more years earning a teaching credential.  She dreamed of taking the advertising industry by storm with innovative designs and ideas . . . but then she met Ben and had gotten caught up in a whirlwind of romance and love.  Six months later they were married. After another year they were living in Hawaii and had their first child.   
Ben encouraged her art work–he set up a studio in a spare bedroom and Jenette painted in oils and acrylics.  She captured the dreamy, ineffable landscapes of Hawaii and painted portraits of the native people.  She was quite good . . . she won prestigious art awards and had her work displayed in several galleries.
Her work earned the family a significant second income–enough to keep her in spending money, most of which went for more art supplies and stylishly clothes.  But as they had more and more girls, art was relegated to a back burner and family life became a priority.  And then dad got sick . . . and then Ben.  It was those damn cigarettes–Ben wouldn’t give them up.  Well, she’d have to go to work for Mr. Thompson.”      
Mr. Thompson said that some of his clients requested women security guards because they were better at communicating with customers and that’s why he wanted to hire her.  Well, she needed the money and she would just go through with it.  
In the security guard training she looked so funny, an over-weight fifty-two year old blond women in a black uniform sitting next to big, bulky twenty to thirty year old black and brown men with dread locks and buzz cuts.  There was only one other woman, a Latino lady from South Central Los Angeles.  
She was required to buy her own uniforms, too.  She took the list the training instructor gave her to the local police and security guard supply store and bought each and every item on the list.  She bought two sets of black pants and shirts, heavy duty steel toe black shiny boots, a baton, a black aluminum flash light, a Smith and Western Model 317 22 caliber pistol, and several cans of mace.  Again, she asked herself if she could really shoot someone.”  She thought, No, there must be another way.
She held her own in the hand-to-hand combat with the other trainees.  She learned to use police disarming self-defense moves, wield a baton, and use mace.  She surprised herself by enjoying the target practice. Her pistol was light-weight, easy to fire, and she was an exceptional shot.  But it was one thing to hit a cardboard figure with a baton, mace, or a bullet, and something else altogether to do it to a real person.  
For her first assignment, Mr. Thompson sent Jenette to Tracy’s, a very distinguished department store in a nearby city.  She thought, “This won’t be bad at all; there aren’t many criminals in Hollister.  I’ll be able to spend most of the day reading and talking to the customers.”  
She was assigned to guard the entrance on the women’s clothing floor.  She thought, How lucky, I’ll keep up with all the latest fashions and use my employee discount to buy things for the girls.
She had the mid-day to 9:00 pm shift.  That was just what she wanted, it gave her time to take the girls to school and run errands before going to work.  Ellen, her oldest daughter, would be home at 3:30 pm to take care of the younger ones until 9:30 when she got home.
The first day was uneventful.  Jenette just watched the customers go in and shop in the store.  There were no robberies or anyone that looked like a criminal.  
Besides being extremely observant because she was an artist, Jenette also had psychic abilities.  She seemed to know when things would happen.  For  example, she just knew last January 25^th that something bad was going to happen to her youngest, Carolyn.  She knew someone was going to try to kidnap her and when and where it would happen.  She was waiting for the man at his car when he dragged Carolyn over and tried to force her inside.  She put her hand in her pocket and told the man she had a gun (which of course she didn’t} and that she would shoot (which of course she couldn’t), so the man let her daughter go.
The same thing happened when she saw a lady walk out of Tracy’s looking somewhat bulkier than she did when she came in. Jenette told herself, I know she’s stealing, I’m going to keep an eye out for her.
When the lady returned a few days later wearing the same faded brown knit suit, Jenette followed her through the store.  She watched her pick up three colorful blouses and then walk into the ladies dressing room.  When she came out, she was wearing the same suit, but she didn’t have the three blouses.  Jenette said to the lady when she walked by, “I think you’ll look much nicer in those three blouses than you do in that old brown suit jacket you always wear.”
The lady said with a big smile, “Well, thank you.  Now here are the price tags, I’m just going to wear them home under these clothes because they are so much easier to carry that way.  I’ll pay for them on my way out.”
“Good.”  When they lady walked out of the store, Jenette asked her all about her family, her children, her husband, and where she lived.  The lady described everything in a calm voice, but when she got to her husband, she burst into tears.  Her husband had just died.  She said that she was looking for work to support her two children.  Jenette could empathize, of course, because she had also lost her husband. She thought it would help both of them to talk about it and perhaps she could get the woman a job with Mr. Thompson’s agency.  So she invited the lady to lunch for the following week.   
The next day the store was in an uproar when Jenette arrived.  There had been a robbery on the morning shift and a guard had been shot on his way to his armored car after he had picked up cash from the management office.  The criminals made off with $12,000 of the store’s money.  When one of the thieves ran out the front door, the Thompson Agency guard tried to stop him, but he was shot in the leg from behind by one of the accomplices.  Both guards were in the hospital but would recover.  Mr. Thompson sent two additional security personnel to the store in case the robbers returned.  
Besides the robbery, there wasn’t a lot of criminal activity at Tracy’s.  Now and then she saw someone stuff a blouse into her purse, or a young teenager put on a spaghetti strap evening dress under her street clothes and not pay for it.  She said to herself, I don't have the heart to do anything about it.  Wouldn’t it be terrible if a teenager were arrested and sent to juvenile hall.  It could ruin the rest of her life: she’d have a felony record and would certainly be corrupted by the hardened criminals in the jail.  It could even lead to a life of crime.  And all the girl was probably doing was trying out shoplifting for the thrill of it.  Wouldn’t it be horrible if that happened to one of my own daughters.  The twins Nancy and Francy are just at that age, too.  And she thought, A little loss was good for the store.  The management expected 5 to 10% “shrinkage”.  They could use it as a write off on their taxes.  And they may even get reimbursed for it by their insurance company.
From time to time Jenette mused about the robbers who stole the $12,000.  She had a funny feeling that they would return.  She decided to be ready.  She borrowed her second to the oldest daughter’s PA system (Karen was the lead singer in a band) and some firecrackers from Nancy and Francy that were left over from the 4^th of July.  She hid speakers on either side of the main isle and set up the microphone near her post at the exit.  
The next day she saw a very attractive teenager, no older than fourteen, walk into the store, pick up a sexy evening dress, and then walk into the dressing room.  When she walked out, she wasn’t carrying the dress.  Jenette went over to her and said, “I bet you’ll look just magnificent in that evening dress.”   
The girl stammered for several seconds and then said, “Oh, I, I . . . forgot to take it off.  You know . . . you know, I want to wear it for my boyfriend.  He says I’m pretty in dresses.”
“I bet you are.  You’re an attractive girl.  Now, in my free time, I’m an artist.  I’ve painted all my girls.  I’d like to paint you wearing that dress.”
“You would?  Oh, Thank you.”
“Now, go back into the dressing room and come out in the dress.  I’d like to see how you look.  The teenager did as she was asked.  “Whow, look at you.  I’ve got six daughters and I’m always tailoring their clothes for them.  If we take that dress in a little in the waist and the bust, I think it will be just right.  Let’s see.  Do you have eleven dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Good, that will be enough to put the dress on layaway.  Can you come up with five dollars a week?”
“Sure, my parents give me a twenty dollar allowance.”  
“Excellent.  Go back into the dressing room, take the dress off and put your regular clothes on.  Take the dress to the front register and ask them to put it on layaway.  Here’s my card.  Give me a call when you’ve paid it off.  I’ll paint your picture and you’ll be able to keep it.”
“Oh, thank you, miss.  I won’t forget this.”  
* * * 
A week later she arrived at work early and was standing outside the women’s entrance, staring at the parking lot and drinking her coffee latte.  She saw an ominous looking silver van cruise across the parking lot and park near the street exit.  She thought, “I bet those are those robbers back for another cash run.  She called the police and then watched two men get out of the van and shop the women’s blouses in the area of the main store isle.  
About ten minutes later, the “Guardera” armored car pulled up and two guards walked into the manager’s office.  When they came out carrying bags of money, the two men from the silver van came up behind them with guns and hit them on their heads.  They picked up the money and began running towards the side entrance.  Jenette spoke through Karen’s loud speakers in a bold deep voice and said, “All right, we’ve got you surrounded.  Throw down your guns and put your hands over your heads.  Then there were several loud explosions (fireworks).  She said, “Lay down on the floor with your hands behind your backs,” accompanied by several more firecrackers.  The robbers did as they were told. Jenette handcuffed both of them.  A few minutes later, the police arrived and took the robbers away.  
Jenette was given approbations and a raise from Mr. Thompson and the Tracy “Metal of Honor” from the store manager.  
A few weeks later, Mr. Thompson called Jenette into his office and congratulated her again on capturing the robbers at Tracy’s.  He told her the he had another assignment for her—a high school.  He said the school was a real challenge: there were gangs, shootings, drugs, graffiti was a constant problem, and there was lots of vandalism.  He told Jenette that if she took the job, he’d double her salary.  She loved children and schools and could certainly use the extra money, so she said agreed.

Chapter Two

She was assigned to work with Miss Snipe, the Vice Principal.  When she arrived, she was told to wait in the lobby.  She heard yelling and screaming coming from the VP's office.  Then she was kept waiting for over an hour.  Jenette was tempted to leave, but since she was being paid for her time, she decided to wait.      
When Miss Snipe walked up to her, Jenette introduced herself and smiled.  The VP said in a stern voice, “Oh, you’re the one from Thompson’s agency, well come into my office; I want to tell you about the rules of our school and what is expected of security guards.”  
She proceeded to lecture Jenette for fifteen minutes.  Right away, she had second thoughts about staying, especially since she was told the last three security guards quit after less than a week on the job.  Jenette decided to finish out the first day, anyway, before talking to Mr. Thompson about another assignment.
In the morning she was stationed at the side entrance near the electronic scanner to check the students for weapons and illegal substances.  During the day she was assigned to stand outside the entrance to the girls bathroom.  On her first day, she search the students who set off the electronic scanner upon entering the school: she found four knives, 2 pistols, a bludgeon, and a baggie of opoids.  In the afternoon when she arrived at the girls bathroom, there was a cat fight in progress between two girl . . . pulling hair, biting, tearing clothes, yelling, and screaming.  
One of the reasons Jenette had done so well in hand-to-hand combat against the other security guards in Mr. Thompson’s training was because she had studied and earned a brown belt in karate when she lived in Hawaii.  So when she got to the fight, she jumped right in front of the girl throwing the punches.  She used the force of the girls blows to flip her onto her back, and then she handcuffed her.  The crowd of students cheered.   She turned to face the second girl and stood in a karate stance, but the girl backed up and ran off.  
Jenette returned to the girl on the floor and helped her onto her feet.  She asked her about the fight.  While in tears, she said, “She told my boyfriend I was sleeping around and a slut, so he’d break up with me.  I love him and have always been a loyal girlfriend.”  
Jenette was sympathetic and said, “I can understand why you were upset.  Now, if I take the handcuffs off, will you go back to class and forget the other girl?’
“Yes, Miss.?”
“You can call me Jenette.  And what’s your name?”
“I’m Serena, miss.”
“Now let me show you something.  If you throw a punch like this to the solar plexus,” and she demonstrated it (her hand flat and her knuckles curled under) “your opponent will be incapacitated for several minutes.  Now you try it.”
The girl stood in the karate stance and with all her “might” threw the punch at Jenette’s stomach, which she easily deflected.  The crowd cheered.  
Jenette said, “You’ve got it.  Now go on to your class.”  	
The crowd broke up.  A few minutes later, Miss Snipe came over.  She said in an inscrutable voice, “Where are the two girls who were fighting?”
“They’ve gone back to class .  They said they’d forget the disagreement if I let them go.”
Miss. Snipe proceeded to lecture Jenette for five minutes on punishing wrong doers. She told her that the next time it happened, to turn the fighters in to her.  Fighting on campus could result in severe disciplinary action such as suspensions and even notification to the police.  She said it was important to punish wrong-doers to set an example for the other students.  She then complained to Jenette about her wrinkled uniform and told her her badge was to low on her chest.  
“I’m sorry; I had a minor emergency this morning because one of my daughters cut her hand on a broken widow (that should have been fixed) and had to be rushed to the hospital emergency room.  I didn’t have time to do my ironing before coming to the school.”  
In the middle of the afternoon, a tall darked haired man with greying at the temples, dressed in a pinned-stripped shirt, tie, and black slacks walked over to Jenette and introduced himself.  He was Mr. Wyse, the school principle.  He was friendly and complimented her on her success in breaking up the fight that morning.  He said he heard about it through a student.  He jokingly asked her if she’d like to teach an after-hours self-defense class.  He told her that he and Mr. Thompson were college buddies–that’s why Thompson’s agency provided the security for the school. When he left, Jenette thought, “Now I like that man.  I wouldn’t mind working for him at all.”
On the way home, though, she stopped at the agency’s office to tell Mr. Thompson her reservations about Miss. Snipe.  She said, “That lady is the reason there are so many problems on campus.  She said Miss Snipe wears Prada, an allusion to the movie “The Devil Wears Prada” and the horrible manager the lady was who ran the fashion magazine.  Mr. Thompson laughed and asked Jenette to keep him updated on Miss. Snipe and activity around the school.   He said he’d have a heart to heart talk with Mr. Wyse about the VP. 
Jenette got a desperation call from her daughter Carolyn, seven years of age.  She had locked herself out of the house.  She was crying and waiting near the front door.  Jenette told her she’d be home within fifteen minutes.  She told Carolyn to take the two dogs Rufus and Claudius for a walk.  By the time she got back, she would be home.  
Jenette said to herself, Oh, that poor girl, she’s having such a tough time right now; it must be the adjustment to her new teacher and her older sisters who are constantly harassing her.  
The next day went about the same as the first – she confiscated three knives, a pistol and a rifle with a bump stock at the side entrance.  On her first break, while running an errand to the principle's office, she passed four boys with spray paint cans “tagging” the walls near the boys bathroom.  They were using bright colorful spray paint in unique shades of green, red, yellow, and pale and dark blue.  They were painting some not so great pictures of boys and girls dancing together to a band accompanied by stylized writing.  Jenette thought, That looks a lot better than those plain puke green walls, anyway.  She walked up to the boys and said, “Now I like that, those are really fine colors.” 
“Oh, it’s Kung Fu . . . that’s the name the students gave you after you broke up the fight yesterday.  I’m Tobias.”  
Jenette laughed and said, “Can I borrow those cans a minute?”
The boys gave them to to her.  She went over to the wall and completed the dance scene.  She drew a poignant image of two dancers twirling around the floor with a crowd clapping and a band playing in the background.  
All three of the boys said, “Whow!  That’s fantastic, Kung Fu.”  Tobias said, “Will you teach us to paint like that?”
“Sure, but not on these walls.  It’s against the rules and will get you trouble.”
“We did it just to make Miss. Snipe mad.  She gets mad and yells at us no matter what we do.”
“I know.  Can I keep those cans?  I’m going to ask Mr. Wyse if we can do a mural on one of the school walls.  I’ll teach you how to paint with spray cans and other media such as acrylics and oils.”
 She knew Miss Snipe would be along any minute so she went directly to Mr. Wyse and told him about the graffiti, the dance scene, and asked him if she could help the students paint a mural on one of the walls.  Mr. Wyse laughed and said, “Sure.”  He walked with Jenette over to take a look at the dance scene.  He said, “Those walls look better than they ever have.  We’ll leave that painting up there.”
“You know, Mr. Wyse, the boys said they did the graffiti just to make Miss Snipe mad.  They say she’s always on their case and won’t leave them alone.” 
Mr. Wyse smiled and said, “Yes, she’s a real monster.  The school board sent her here when the last vice principle Mr. Goodsight died.  I’ve been trying to get her transferred ever since.”
She laughed and then went to her post outside the girls bathroom.      
 No sooner had she arrived, than Miss. Snipe walked up.  She said, “Where are the four boys that did the Graffiti?”
Jenette handed her the spray paint cans and said that she let them go.
Miss Snipe proceeded to lecture her for fifteen minutes again about punishing wrong-doers.  She said, “I could have suspended those boys and sent them to juvenile hall for vandalism. Then Miss Snipe pointed to Jenette’s black boots and said, “That sure is a pathetic job of polishing.  Report to me first thing in the morning.  I want to see a spit shine on those shoes.  I want to be able to see my reflection in them.”
“Yes mam.”  And she thought, If she wants to see her image in my shoes, I’ll paint a picture of Medusa on them.
Miss Snipe said, “OK, you can go.  I’ll call Mr. Georges, the janitor, to repaint those walls.”
“You’d better talk to Mr. Wyse, I think he has other plans.”
Miss. Snipe stormed off.
*  *  * 
Jenette was standing at her post outside the girls restroom.  Several teenagers walked in and out.  She got a call on her cell phone, “Carolyn, what’s the matter, honey?”
“Mommy, I’m sick, I don’t feel good.  Will you come home and fix my lunch?”
“Your sister Roberta will be home at 1:00 pm.  Tell her what’s wrong and she’ll give you something to take for it.
“OK, mommy.”
Jenette heard a girl in the restroom talking on her cellphone.  She waited for a few minutes and then walked inside.  She heard, “It was dreamy.  He took me on the bus.  First, we went to Dennys.”
“What did you have?”
“I had a hamburger and fries and a strawberry malt.  He had a beef steak and a malt.  Then we went to the movies.  We saw Beach Party III.  Well, we didn’t see much of the movie, we, you know, the whole time.
“Whoops, here comes someone.  Talk to you later.”
A minute later, she sheepishly walked out of the stall and right into Jenette.  
“It’s Kung Fu.  I was hoping to have a chance to meet you.”
“You can call me Jenette.”
“Well, I was hoping you’d teach me some of those karate moves . . . it’s the boys . . . they won’t keep their hands off of me especially when we go out on dates.”
“Oh, I know, I’ve got six daughters.  I know all about it.”  Her phone rang, She whispered to the girl, “It’s Carolyn my youngest; she’s home sick again today.”
“Hi, Carolyn, what’s the problem?”
“Mommy, I heard a funny noise in the back yard . . . it sounds like someone climbed over the fence.”
“Call Mr. Crumpet, our neighbor.  He’s home most of the time.  Gotta go, honey.”
“Thanks mommy.”
Jenette said to the girl, “By the way, What’s your name?”
“I’m Lucinda.  I’m in the eleventh grade.  This is my geometry class and I hate it.  I hate the teacher Mr. Rotunda. too”
“I understand what you mean.  My girls have all hated math when they first started it.  They had to study hard on the weekends just to pass the class.  Now, Ellen and Karen are majoring in math and the oldest got straight “A’s”.
“Maybe they can tutor me.”
By this time, several girls were listening to the conversation in the restroom.  “Now, let me show you a karate move.  Stand with your feet apart in a comfortable position.  Good.  This is what you do when someone tries to grab you.  Try grabbing me like the boys do.”
Jenette caught her hand, pulled her forward by the arm, and then twisted it behind her back.  She pulled it up just a little, so Lucinda could feel how it hurt.”
“See, you’ve got them by the “balls” so to speak.  It’s a real turn-off to the guys and it can really hurt.”
“Can I try it?”   
“Sure.  Lucinda stood with her legs apart while Jenette tried to grab her.  Jenette let her catch her arm, pulled her forward, and twisted her around.”
“Excellent.  That’s just how it’s done.”
“Thank you.  Well, I’m going back to class now.  I hope I see you again, Kung Fu.”

Chapter Three

The rest of the day was uneventful until she got home.  One of Jenette’s and the family’s weaknesses was organization.  There was junk everywhere scattered around the house.  In the small TV room there were clothes, books, chips, cookies and plates all over the floor and under and behind the furniture.   On the computer keyboard there were underpants, snacks, and “blue ice”.  In the bathroom there were clothes, towels and make-up all over the floor, sink, and the back of the commode.  
The first problem was there were too many people and animals in a very small house.  The six girls shared three bedrooms and Jenette had her own room (Ben and hers) and Grandpa had his own bedroom and bath.  There were also the two German short hairs shepherds, Rufus and Claudius, who spent most of their time indoors.  That’s not to mention three parrots in cages in the house and two guinea pigs and four rabbits in the backyard.  
The second problems was Jenette, and therefore her family, never wanted to throw anything out or put it back where they found it.  Every storage space including all three closets, the garage, and several outdoor plastic storage cabinets were full-to-overflowing with house hold items.  When anyone opened the door, they had to run out of the way to avoid being hit on the head by falling junk.  
And, of course, the third problem, which Jenette could certainly be forgiven for, was that she was the sole parent and “bread winner” for six girls, a Grandpa, two dogs, three birds, two guinea pigs, and four rabbits.  She just didn’t have the time to clean things out, put them back where they belonged, or train the girls to be organized.  
Well, anyway, when she got home she couldn’t get into the TV room because there were too many things blocking the door.  She knocked several times but with the TV on and the stereo going full blast in the kitchen, Carolyn couldn’t hear her.  So she and Nancy and Francy forced the door open and found Carolyn rolled up in several blankets with half-eaten plates of food, cans of soda, and glasses of liquids lying on the floor nearby.  She was with two of her friend watching cartoons. 
“Carolyn, your friends will have to go home.  You don’t want them to get sick, do you?”
“No mommy, but I feel better now.”
“Girls, go on home.  You can visit on the weekend.”
*  *  *
Things were quiet the following Monday on campus.  Jenette only confiscated two guns, two knives, a baggie of uppers and a cudgel at the side entrance.  On the morning break, she strolled through the playground  and around the snack bar where most of the students congregated.  She greeted a few by name, complimenting the girls on their dresses and answering questions.   
She came to two boys in a heated argument.  At first it was just a loud disagreement, but then they threw down their books and notebooks and looked like they were going to fight.  She listened to their conversation for a few minutes.  They talked about a girl.  They were both going out with Renee Emerson and were arguing about who’s girlfriend she was.  Jeffry Clinton said that since she was wearing his Tiger’s jacket (he was a football player and the Tigers was the name of the team), she was his girlfriend.  Fred Medini, said she was his girlfriend because she wore his tennis letter on her sweater.  
Jenette cut in, “Now I have six girls of my own and I’d say you both have good reasons to believe her to be your girlfriend.  There’s one way we can settle this argument and that’s to ask Miss. Emerson, herself, who she’s going out with.  
Jeff said, “Why not.  That would settle it.”
Fred reluctantly said, “OK, if you want to ask her, I’ll go along with it.”
She said, “This might hurt your feelings guys if she says it’s not you.  Can you handle that?”
They both hesitated and said. “Yes.”
Someone brought Renee over, she'd already been told about the argument.  
When Jenette asked her who her boyfriend was, she said, “My boyfriend is a sophomore in college.  Fred and Jeff are just friends.”
Fred and Jeff looked at each other, shook there heads, and walked off together. 
*  *  * 
Jenette was standing at her post after the lunch break.  Every half-hour she’d go into the restroom and flush out the young women who were hanging out and talking to their friends or on cell phones.  Just after she came out of the restroom on one of her rounds, she heard screaming and shouting coming from a nearby classroom.  She ran in the direction of the disturbance, and saw students pouring out of the room.  She asked a few of them what the problem was, but they kept running.  
When she got to the entrance and looked in, standing tall and intrepid on the teacher's desk, was a six-foot long monster that look like the star of a Japanese movie.  It was a common iguana, indigenous to Latin America,  with brown mottled snake-like skin, a dark fin with spikes on it on the top of its back and sharp protrusions on its tail.  Its eyes were positioned on the side of its head and it had a deathly look as it flicked is long bluish tongue in and out.  Two students were holding green leaves in their hands and slowly approaching it.  She asked what is it?”
Ira Romonov said, “It’s my pet Iguana.  I’m sorry, I brought it to school in my giant beach towel to show my friends, but it escaped when Mrs. Patrickson gave us the writing assignment.”
Jenette broke out into a fit of laughing.  “You guys can take care of this yourselves.  I’ll tell the students and teacher to come back in fifteen minutes.”  
Of course, the teacher went to Miss. Snipe who was just about to call the police, SPCA, FBI, and other clandestine organizations when Jenette arrived in her office.  She told her that the Iguana belonged to one of the students and that the boys would have it under control within a few minutes. Jenette said that calling the authorities would just create more problems for everyone.
Miss. Snipe said, “Nonsense.  I could suspended the boy who was responsible for this and send him to “Juvie”.  Wrong-doers must be punished to set an example for the other students.”
Fortunately, Mr. Wyse walked up during this exchange of words and told Miss. Snipe that he would take care of calling the authorities.  He never did.       
*  *  *
The art teacher Mrs. Engle had heard about Jenette’s encounter with the boys doing graffiti and had seen her dance mural on the school wall.  She invited Jenette to her class as a guest speaker.  Jenette taught the students figure drawing.  She described the essence of the art form with lots of demonstrations using multi-colored chalk on paper on an easel.  Then she asked the class to do their own sketches of a partner.  The response was excellent,  so Mrs Engle invited Jenette to teach a section of her class every Thursday.  Jenette and Mrs. Engle along with the class planned to do the new mural that Mr. Wise had approved.  
The art class was the second to last of the school day.  So when it was over, she took up her post outside the girl’s restroom.  When she arrived, Lucinda slowly walked up to her.  She said, “Thanks for the karate lesson.  The moves worked.  After I did them on Joe, the guy I’ve been going out with, he stopped all of his groping and grabbing.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it.”
“Anyways,” Lucinda continued, “Rachael is in there . . . she needs someone to talk to.  She’s pregnant.  I think she might do something desperate . . . like cut her wrists.  She’s got razor blades.”
“Thanks, Lucinda,” and then Jenette walked into the restroom.  She found Rachael sitting on the floor in the far corner, crying.  The sleeves on her blouse were rolled up and she held a razor blade in her right hand poised above her wrist.  
“Are your Rachael?”
“How did you know my name?”
“Lucinda said you might need someone to talk to . . . is she your friend?”
“Sort of,” while continuing to cry.  
“It’s my parents . . . they’ll kill me if they find out I’m pregnant.  They’re Catholic and real conservative.  They’ve been lecturing me since I was a little girl about abstinence and waiting until I was married.” Sobs.  Jenette put her arm around Rachael. She reached down to Rachael's right hand and took the razor blade.  
“They always said that if any of their children got pregnant out of wedlock, they’d disown them.”  
Jenette said, “There are lots of options and you don’t have to do anything about it right now.”
“Todd and I just got going one night . . . we didn’t mean to do anything . . . but it just happened.”
“It happens to thousands of girls everyday.  I’ve got six girls of my own, I know.  They’re been pretty good at keeping the boys off.  But I’ll tell you about my second oldest Karen.”
Lucinda walked in and said, “Hi,” and then sat down on the other side of Rachael and held her hand.  
“She’d been going out with Rob regularly . . . but last year in March . . . she started acting funny towards everybody . . . sarcastic and combative with her sisters.  I knew something was wrong.  One day, her older sister Ellen and I were sitting at the kitchen table and Karen walked in.  She was really ragging at Roberta, so Roberta just came out with it. She said, “Mom, Karen’s been like this for over a month now . . . and it’s because she’s upset . . . she’s pregnant.”
Karen broke down into tears.  “She expected me to scold her, but, of course, I didn’t.”  
I said, “Each of us, boys and girls has this sexual drive in us.  Some are able to control it . . . but most of us find ways of satisfying it without the consequences of pregnancy.  But some of us aren’t able to avoid getting pregnant and that’s OK.  I said, “I really like Rob and still do . . . and I think he’s a good match for you.  The two of you are going to need to decide what you want to do.  Whether you want to keep the child, give it up for adoption, or even have an abortion.  You’ve got some time.  I suggest you talk to Dr. Franklin, our family doctor, and look into other resources to explore your options.”
Rachael began crying and then said, “My parents would never be reasonable like that.  They’d want to put my boyfriend in jail for having sex with a minor.  They’d severely punish me.  They’d send me to a convent.  They always threatened it.”
Jenette said, “Well, I understand.  You need to accept your parents for the way they are and love them.   Is there anyone else who might be understanding and willing to talk with you about the situation and help you?”
Todd’s parents are really cool.  I can talk to them about anything.  Maybe they’d help us.”
“Good.”  
Rachael continued to sniffle, but stopped crying.
“Are you going to be alright now?’
“Yea, I think so.  I’ll talk to Todd, and together we’ll go see his parents.”
Jenette got up and returned to her post.  About fifteen minutes later, Rachael walked out with Lucinda and smiled at Jenette as she passed.  
          *  *  *
The next day at school was a little quieter.  She did her usual searches at the entrance and then took up her post at the girls restroom.  At 10:17 am, Rebecca, Mr. Wyse’s secretary, came running up to her in an agitated manor.  She said, “There’s a student in room 102B with a gun.  He’s threatening the history teacher Mr. Ramirez.  Miss Snipe is in there talking with him right now.  Mr. Wyse asked if you might help defuse the situation.  He said not to get yourself hurt.  The boy is Michael Washington.  He’s been a good student and his mother’s an elementary school teacher.  This is not like him.  Something phenomenal must have happened.  
Jenette said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
When she got to the room, she looked through the little Plexiglas window in the door.  She saw Michael standing at the front of the room pointing the gun at Mr. Ramirez and Miss Snipe lying on the floor unconscious.  She knocked on the door and said in a gentle voice, “It’s Kung Fu, can I come in?”
Michael said, “Yes.”
She sat at a student desk about half-way up to the front of the room.  She recognized two girls that she’d met, Lucinda, the teenager from the restroom, and Serena, the girl in the fight.
She said, “Mr. Ramirez, “Are you alright?”
He said, “Yes.”
“What seems to be the problem?”
He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “I don’t know.”
Jenette began talking to Michael, “Michael, you remind  me of my nephew Joseph and the time he ran away.  He’s about a year older than you.  He was an outstanding student in school.  Well, this happened last year when he was about your age.  He wanted to be the quarterback on the football team.  He worked hard all summer and then on the weekends during the school year on his passing game.  But you know, he comes from a family of “geeks” (laughter) with no athletic ability at all.  Well, he didn’t make quarterback, in fact, he didn’t even make the first string.  All his hopes were dashed.  He wanted to earn an athletic scholarship because my sister’s family is poor like me and it was the best way to pay for college.  He was also in love with a cheerleader, he thought that being the captain of the football team was the best way to earn her heart.  So when it all fell through, he ran away.  We finally got a call from him after he’d had a rough time of it: sleeping in the cold and rain, going without food, being robbed and roughed-up by people on the street.  My sister’s husband flew across the country and brought him home.  
When he got back, he resumed his outstanding scholastic standing and earned a scholarship to a major university based on his academic achievement.  And he found a girl he liked even more that the cheerleader.”
Michael’s hand began quivering . . . and he slowly lowered the gun.  She said, “I don’t want to pry Michael, but what seems to be the problem.  I don’t want to see you get into trouble.  You’ve been a good student and you’re from a good family.  Mr. Wyse tells me your mother is a teacher.”  
Michael said, “Yes.”
“And you love your parents, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
He began to cry.  “It all started with Miss Snipe.  We were goofing around in the school yard by the cafeteria one day and I knocked over a trash can.  Well, she saw it and has made my life miserable every since.  She’s told my teachers I’m a discipline problem and a slow learner.  The teachers are all picking on me now.  Mr. Ramirez calls me the “dunce.”
Lucinda said, “It’s true. He has the same schedule I do.  Last term he had the respect of all the teachers, but this term they all pick on him.”
“Is that true Mr. Ramirez?”
“I’m afraid it is.  I’m so sorry.  I should have believed his transcripts and his performance rather than Miss Snipe.  Michael, I’m sorry.  I’ll talk to Mr. Wyse and we’ll straighten this out for you.”
“Will that be OK, Michael?”
“Yes.”
Jenette said, “Good.  Now you can give me the gun and we’ll go talk to Mr. Wyse.  He’s a fair man.  He’ll understand.”
“OK.”  He turned the gun around, and slowly gave it to her, handle first.
“Come on Michael.  Class, you’re dismissed for the rest of the period.  And Mr. Ramirez, you might want to take a few hours break or the rest of the day off.  Will someone call an ambulance for Miss Snipe?”
Michael and Jenette spent several hours in Mr. Wyse’s office.  Mr. Wyse was understanding and said he would not suspend Michael if he promised not to do anything like that again.  Because he was the school principle and was required to follow the rules and the law, he recorded the incident in Michael’s record and called in the police.  They spent another hour asking Micheal about the gun and where he got it and then confiscated it.  With Mr. Wyse and Jenette’s help, they decided not to arrest him.  The incident would be on his police record, but would be erased when he became eighteen.  
Jenette didn’t even have time to return to her post outside the girls restroom. She went straight to her car to go home.  She drove an old Volvo station wagon with faded blue paint.  It had scratches and dents on the doors and sides and the bumpers were bent out of shape in many places.  There was a streamline white storage container on the roof that looked like an upside down canoe with an assortment of fishing poles, building materials, skim and ocean boards tied on, under, and around it.  Like her house, there were clothes, books, toys, food, and miscellaneous other items strewn all over the seats, dashboard, and floor.  And the backseat was crammed full of plastic bags filled with “I-don’t-know-what” that couldn’t fit anywhere else.
When she got to her car, there was a crowd of students waiting for her.  They congratulated her on saving Mr. Ramirez, who was a popular teacher.  Of course, Miss. Snipe was another story.  They asked her all sorts of questions about what happened to Michael and then about her life and family.  A half hour later, she drove on home.  
*  *  *
The next day, Mr. Wyse came up to Jenette when she was checking students as they walked into the school.  He said, You’ve been doing an outstanding job for us.  The students like you and everyday you are defusing significant problems.  You know, our school has the reputation of being one of the worst discipline challenges in the district. You're helping to change that image.”
“Thank you Mr. Wyse.  I just love the students, the school environment and I enjoy working with you.  My only difficulty here is Miss. Snipe.”
“Well, your not alone.  I hope you’ll be patient for a while longer . . . because I’m working on that problem and may have a solution very soon.  
“I was wondering if you’d help me with yet another unfortunate situation.  One of our school neighbors, Mrs. Frucheau, has called to complain about students sneaking into her yard to retrieve soccer balls.  You see, she lives in one of the houses right at the end of the field.”
“I think I’ve seen her.  Is she that old lady that sits on her porch in a wheel chair watching the traffic go by?”
“Yes, she’s crippled and very old.  Fortunately, she can’t hear very well so the sports activities on the field don’t bother her.”
“Oh, I feel so sorry for her . . . she’s always wearing that drab old blue dress . . . and I bet she lives all alone.”
“Yes, and she calls me about once a week to complain about someone climbing over the fence into her yard to retrieve a ball.  Her rose bushes are right on the other side . . . so the perpetrator usually crushes a few of them while knocking off the flowers.”
“Oh, that’s terrible.  Those roses are probably all she has to live for.”
“Yes, I agree.  I’m on my way over there right now and I wonder if you’d come along and help me find a permanent solution to this dilemma.”         
“Sure, Mr. Wyse.”
They walked out of the side entrance and down the sidewalk to Mrs. Frucheau’s house.  When they knocked on the door, they heard a gruff old voice, “What do you want?  Go away, I’m busy.”
“Mrs. Frucheau, it’s Mr. Wyse from the school.  I came to apologize for the students going into your yard.”
In a gruff voice she said, “Oh, alright, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She opened the door and then said, “Who is this the police?  Are you going to arrest me for complaining?”
“Of course not.  I’m sorry, this is Jenette, our new security guard.  She’s been doing such a fine job for us that I thought she might help us find a permanent solution to the problem of the students climbing over the fence and going into your yard.”
Mrs. Frucheau said, “That’s easy, move the soccer field to the other side of the campus.”
Mr. Wyse laughed.  Jenette asked, “It looks like your living all alone, is that right?”
“Yes, I’ve got four children, two boys and two girls, and they’ve all moved to the East Coast.  They won’t even come to visit me . . . can you imagine that?”
“Well, they’re probably very busy with their families and work.”
“Each of them has kids of their own and all are working, even the wives.  I sit here all day all alone.  When I need something or need to go to the doctor, I’ve got to call a cab.  It costs a fortune.“
Jenette said, “How much do you spend a week on cabs?”
“I make four or five trips . . . that can cost me $150 to $200 a week.”
“Hum, I’ve got six daughters one of them is eighteen.  She has her own car and has been looking for work, but hasn’t been able to find anything that would fit into her school schedule.  If you’d want to hire her, she could work for you in the afternoons, drive you on your errands or to the doctor and do any other work around the house that you might need help with.  She could even retrieve the soccer balls for the boys.”
Mrs. Frucheau laughed, “Now that’s a good idea.”
“And if my daughter doesn’t work out, I’m sure we could find a student over eighteen years old from the school, a lot of them have their own cars and are looking for work.”
“Well, I like that idea.  Mr. Wyse, I still think you need to put up a fence, one of those huge, tall fences like they have on golf courses.  That would solve this problem once and for all.”
“I think your right Mrs. Frucheau.  There are several other houses along the back of the soccer field as well.  If one of the boys were to get injured or something happen when he was in a yard, it could be a disaster for everyone.  I’ll call the school board to find out if we can garner the funds for a fence.”
“The noise of constructing a fence won’t bother you will it?”
I can hardly hear. Mr. Wyse, I won’t notice a thing.  By the way, whatever happened to that vice principle of yours, a Miss. Snake or was it Snub or Snipe?”  Jenette and Mr. Wyse laughed.  “The last time she was over here she was so rude that I slammed the door in her face.  She never did return.”  More laughter.  
Mr. Wyse said, “I’m sorry, that’s just her nature.  I’m doing my best to replace her.”
On the walk back to the campus Mr. Wyse said, “Mr. Thompson told me all about you losing your husband and raising a large family on your own.  You’re a courageous woman.”
“It’s quite a challenge, but I love my daughters and it’s worth it.  If it weren’t for this job, I wouldn’t be able to make it.”
“How about you, Mr. Wyse, do you have a family?”
“Yes. I do . . . I have three boys and a girl.  They’re all on their own now and married.  Two of them are completing their master’s degrees.  I’ve also lost my spouse, she was killed last year in an auto accident.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve gotten through the worst of it, but it’s living alone, like Mrs. Frucheau, that’s hard to get used to.”  
*  *  *
In the afternoon when Jenette was stationed outside the girl’s restroom, she got a call from Mr. Thompson, “How’s it going on campus?”
“All this month we’ve had student demonstrations over campus shootings and the student body president election.  You’ve probably read about them.  I’ve had to disperse several groups who were about to get violent.  One school candidate wants to take action to prevent shootings, such as educating the community on ways to recognize potential terrorists, and take action on world issues such collecting signatures on petitions to protest “robots from taking future jobs away from students.”   The other candidate is trying to maintain the status quo: he focuses on sports, partying and drinking beer.  He says, we must have faith that things well get better. 
“We’ll today we had a special assembly to install the new student body president.   This time the candidate who cared and wanted to do something about social issues won.  The assembly also feathered a past graduate who builds schools in China.  He said, It’s been proven that the best thing we can do to improve economies and human rights in third world countries is to educate girls and young women.   He showed us a video documenting his work.  Then he asked for volunteers from the pupils when they graduate.  The response was excellent.  
But the best news during the assemble came as a surprise.  While Mr. Wise was introducing the presenter, his secretary came in with an urgent letter.  He read it to himself and a big smile coursed across his face.  Then he read it to the students.  It said, “Do to the severe shock and mental stress of being held at gun point by one of the students, I’ve decided to hand in my resignation and take an early retirement.  It was signed, Miss Snipe.”  The assembly broke into an enormous round of applause and a standing ovation.  Student were dancing in the aisles to music from they’re cell phones.  When things quieted down, Mr. Wyse continued to read, “I am sorry to disappoint you all, but because of my condition, I will not be able to attend any retirement ceremonies or parties.”  laughter and more wild applause.  
Mr. Thompson said, “So it sounds as if the source for most of the campus disruptions will no longer be in place.”
“What a blessing for everyone involved.”
“I was wondering, Jenette, if you would stop into my office on your way home today.  I have an offer that may be of interest to you.”
“Certainly, I could arrive at 4 pm.”
“Excellent, see you then.”
When she walked into Mr. Thompson’s office, he was just finishing up with two heavily armed young black men who were on security detail for Securidad, one of the companies that sends trucks to business to pick up cash and deliver it to the banks.   
Mr. Thompson said to Jenette, “As you know, I worked in law enforce for many years before started this security guard agency.  I was police captain in Sacramento, California and then Chicago, Illinois.  I’ve also worked in various other organizations, some well known and some clandestine.  Most of the security guard requests I get come from my extensive network of contacts in these institutions.
“Yesterday, I got a call from the Mayor of Sacramento, whom I used to work with.  He tells me, as I already knew because it’s been in the news, that his city has one officer or sheriff after another unnecessarily shooting and injuring or killing innocent black and brown people.  He want’s it to stop.  He asked me for help and that’s why I called you.”
“Me, why not one of your highly trained and educated navy seals or one of the guards with police and management experience?”
“The mayor and I believe that the police and military structure and culture are making the problems worse, not better.  The rigid discipline entrenches the officers in old patterns, so that they aren’t open to new ways of responding.  And a culture of prejudice reins free all the way from the commander down to the rookies.  We all know what the locker room banter is like.
“You’ve come from a totally different background, art and education.  Perhaps that and you’re unique approach is why you have been so successful.  What’s your take on the situation with law enforcement.”
First you’ve got to feel for these guys.  They’re getting it from all sides and their lives are becoming more and more endangered.  In a small mid-western town, all you have to worry about are minor robberies and crimes, teenagers getting drunk and killing someone in a car accident, and saving a cat caught up in a tree.  City cops have to deal with all that plus worrying about being shot during a routine traffic stop, dispersing a school or mall shooter, Islamic bombers and terrorists, and citizens out to kill police officers.  They’re nervous, jittery.  You can understand why they sometimes over react.
On the other hand, many police are motivated by hate and even enjoy inflicting pain, injury, and killing.  That seems to be all that they know how to do.  Many who have chosen the profession, have done so because they like the sense of power and the freedom to act outside of social norms.  That’s why cop shows and movies are so popular. “Joe worker” wants to enjoy those experiences, even if they are vicarious.  It’s human nature.  
“So I think your right about bringing people in from the outside with different backgrounds: writers, musicians, professors, teachers, managers, businessmen, accountants.  They would introduce diverse creative solutions. Can you image an accountant, for example, shooting someone without thinking about it?  He’d first thoroughly analyze the situation, estimate the wear and tear on his gun and clothing, and consider whether he could afford the extra bullets from his monthly allotment.”
Mr. Thompson said, “He’d probably calculate the chances of getting injured and position himself so far from the action, that there would be no chance he could hit the target.  He’d record the incident in one of his spread sheets and then completely forget about it.”  They both laughed.
“So school will be out in about a month.  How about if I send you up to Sacramento for two weeks, lets say in mid July.  You could work with these guys and loosen them up and get them to try new and creative solutions to interacting with suspects or criminals.”
“Thank you Arthur, for thinking of me.  Unfortunately, I could never leave my girls for that long.  I’m needed 24/7.”
“I know that Jenette.  The mayor has given me a huge budget to work with.  What if I sent you and your whole family to Sacramento.  We[ll rent you a houseboat and I’d hire a care taker to supervise the girls while you were working.  This is important, so I’ll pay you four times what you’ve been making at the high school.  Your family would have a chance to water ski, swim and enjoy the social life on the river. I’ll extend your stay to one month, so you can relax for a couple of weeks yourself.  Come on Jenette, how long has it been since you and your kids have had a vacation?”
“Five years.  The last one was when Ben and I took the kids to Hawaii to visit my parents.  This is becoming an offer that I don’t want to say no to.  How about if I’ll talk it over with my family and get back to you at the beginning of the week?”
“Great.  I want you to go up there and shake things up for the police chief and his officers, just like you do in your art classes and in the trainings you led for my guards.  So I’ll see you on Monday at the same time?” 
 “Agreed.”
She took the long route home along Foothill Boulevard, at the base of the mountains, so she could think our Mr. Thompson’s offer. 

Chapter IV
 
Jenette accepted the consulting assignment to retrain the staff of the Sacramento Police Force.  The school year ended on a positive note with a new vice principle, with a background as a history teacher and a musician, being introduced at the final assembly in the auditorium.  He performed a guitar solo for the students to wild applause.
When she told Mr. Wyse she was leaving for the summer and taking a consulting job in Sacramento, he said, “We’re going to miss you here.  You’ve done wonders for the school and the students have come to love you.”
“Well, I may return in the fall, depending on what Mr. Thompson has in store for me.  I’ll miss you and the students, too. I hope we’ll all see each other again.”  
Nancy and Francy went away to camp for two weeks.   Karen, who just turned 17 and would be a high school senior the next year, spent everyday at the beach with her new boyfriend, who she was madly in love with.  Ellen, who would be beginning college in the fall, took a job, so she could save money for school.  She hoped to become a lawyer and was fortunate enough to be able to turn down work in a fast food restaurant for one in her field.  She would be a clerk in a law firm. The rest of the girls played with their friends or lazed around the house, recovering from a rigorous year of studying.
Everyone was looking forward to their vacation on the Sacramento River.  Jenette took a week off from work, so she could research and prepare her presentations for the Sacramento Police Department.  Fortunately for her, Ellen would stay home and be able to take care of the managery of cats, dogs, guinea pigs, rabbits and birds.  
After the 4^th of July weekend, the five girls, Jenette, plus their guest and family friend Isabel from the Dominican Republic, piled into the old Volvo station wagon with the storage compartment on the roof packed full of clothes, and headed off to their dream month on the Sacramento River.  
The house boat was magnificent.  It was a white wood frame house in the river town style with ornate wood trim and turned wood posts supporting a wide, broad front porch.  It sat on a dark wood deck about a foot above the blue green current.  The large, comfortable living room was furnished with turn of the early 1900’s furniture, and a flat screen TV, sound system, and desktop computer, with all the computer games and equipment they wanted.  Jenette and the girls were surprised to walk into a modern kitchen, fully stocked with a week’s supply of food. 
Four bedrooms graced the house.  Jenette had her own room, Karen and Isabel, Nancy and Francy, and Carolyn and Roberta shared.  Jenette’s sister Susan, whom Mr. Thompson hired to watch the girls while Jenette was working, would sleep in a den with a couch that folded out into a bed.            
The houseboat sat about a hundred yards down stream from the boat harbor and the other houseboats, and about fifty feet from the shore.  You could hear the current rippling by and the smell of barbecues from upstream. When they parked along the shore and piled out of the station wagon, Francy said, “How are we going to get back and forth to the house, swim?”
Just then a tall, dark haired man rode up in a large skiff with an outboard motor, and stopped right in front of them, the man said, “Greeting from the Sacramento Police.  I’m Captain Weatherby.  I was sent to welcome you and deliver your boat.  They introduced each other, and then the Captain shook hands with Jenette and each of the girls.  
Roberta said, “Mom, that’s just like the boat Joselyn’s family has at the lake.  I know how to drive it.”
“Great, you can be our chauffeur.”
The Captain said, “Here’s my card.  I want to make sure your visit is a pleasant one.  Call me with whatever you need: questions, repairs, supplies, anything.  I’ll be here in a flash.”
“Thank you captain.”
“Can I help you move in?”
“Oh no, we didn’t bring that much with us, and as you can see, I’ve got a whole troupe with me to do the work.”
He said, “If you don’t mind Roberta, I’d like to show how you how to run this outboard motor.  It’s probably different from the one you used on your friend’s boat.”   
“Sure, thank you.” 
*  *  *
  After moving into the house boat and their rooms, the girls jumped right into their vacation. Roberta transported them to the swimming platform where they lounged, sun screen and bikini clad, while engrossed in their cell phones, favorite books and music.  
A rousing dinner of broiled tofu and vegetables, with fresh fruit for desert, compliments of Karen, kicked off the evening.  
Everyone, including Jenette, moved to the swimming platform for the night activities.  Karen and Isabel, who was the lead singer in a popular band in the Dominican Republic, serenaded the troupe with a medley of popular tunes.  The live music wafted to the harbor, and soon watercraft of every style were arriving with people searching for evening entertainment.   Before too long, the platform and the nearby shore were filled to capacity with new friends and admirers. 
* * *
The next day Jenette’s sister Susan arrived.  Jenette met with the Chief to discuss her lesson plans and get feedback on what he wanted her to included.  Two days later, she began her seminar.
She talked to the officers about trusting their intuition and using creative solutions to prevent crimes and save lives.  She spent the majority of the day giving lessons in art accompanied with a variety of popular music, to tap into their creativity.  In the afternoon, she had the officers imagine a crime situation, and then write about innovative ways to resolve it.  Their stories were quit good and received positive feedback when they were shared with the class.   When the session was over, the officers gave Jenette a round of applause.
   *  *  *
The girls fell into a pattern; they’d sunbathe on the swimming platform in the mornings, then return to the houseboat for lunch.  In the afternoon they’d engage in assorted activities–swimming, hiking, exploring the shore in the skiff or visiting with their new friends.  Almost everyday several of them walked into the local community for  sodas, ice cream, or to shop. 
Jenette dedicated her training session on Friday to black people.  She told about her family’s visit to the Dominican Republic, a country primarily of African-Americans, and then showed the panoply of paintings she had created of scenes of the beaches, the forests, and the local people.  
She then traced the history of man, demonstrating how everyone had descended from the African Continent, whether within the last several hundred years, or in the distant past.  She said, “Thousands of years ago man migrated north to Europe and the Americas across the Bering Straight in Alaska.  Other groups migrated east to Asia, and still others discovered the islands of the world by accident or through planned voyages such as that of Columbus.  
She then described her family’s trip to Kenya and other African countries when she and Ben were first married.  She said, “There is something about the people of East Africa that made us feel more love and a greater connection with humanity than anywhere else in the world.  Although the United States and the West drive the world’s economy, the secrets hidden in African and in other remote countries may just save us from ourselves, unite the people of the world and move us all forward on this planet.
She asked the cadets, “How many of you have passports and have traveled overseas?”  Only a few raised their hands.  She said, “Only ten percent of Americans ever get a passport.  Many of us bury our heads in the sand in our supposed “greatness”.  I encourage you to travel abroad; you’ll have incredible adventures and experiences, met wonderful people and broaden your understanding of the world and yourselves.”
she then brought in Karen and Isabel, her family’s friend from the Dominican Republic, who was extremely articulate.  They sang a handful of popular tunes to the accompaniment of Karen on the guitar and Isabel on the symbols.  Then Isabel, as an outsider, discussed what she noticed about the lives of black people in the America.  She spent over half an hour answering questions.  On the break the two young women had offers of dates from the officers for every night of the following week.  
To end the session, Jenette brought in a black family she had met in Sacramento, to share their experiences of what it was like to interact with the police and fear for their lives every time they did so.  At the end of the day, most of the officers had open, enlightened looks on their faces.  
   *  *  *
The next day was Saturday and Jenette had the day off.  She needed it; she felt as if she had worked harder that week than any other time in her short career in security.  The girls made her and Susan breakfast and kept their glasses of lemonade full as they talked and read and lounged in the sun on the deck.  
Nancy and Francy had been bugging Roberta to let them ride up and down the river in the boat.  Jenette, over hearing the conversation said, “Oh let them take it.  They’re old enough to steer the skiff.”
Meanwhile Jenette watched enviously as her daughters paraded in and out of the house with their new boyfriends.  She thought, Am I going to be single the rest of my life?       
Nancy and Francy left at 10:00 am and said they would return no later than noon.  They slowly cruised along the right bank, exploring pathways cut amongst the reeds and cattails, discovering bird’s nests and occasionally seeing deer on the shore.  
After an hour Nancy said, “Why don’t we cross the river and then make our way home along the left bank?”
“Cool idea.  Let’s do it.” 
When they traversed the main part of the river where the current was fast and strong, the engine stalled, and Nancy couldn’t restart it.  So they drifted down the river faster and faster, doing what little steering they could with the powerless rudder.  
When the two girls hadn’t returned by 1:00 pm, Jenette became concerned and called Captain Weatherby for assistance.  He immediately sent two officers in a watercraft to search for the missing girls.  He calculated the maximum distance they could have traveled in three hours, and had the policemen work their way upstream from there.
Nancy and Francy knew they were in big trouble.  Every time they passed another boat or someone on shore, they shouted, “Help, help, we’ve lost control of our vessel.  We can’t get the motor started.”  
Finally a fourteen year old boy who was taking his father speed boat for a drive, responded to their call.  He raced to the center of the river, threw them a line, and towed them to shore.  
A few minutes later the two police officers arrived.  They thanked the boy for his help, and then towed Nancy and Fancy and the skiff upstream to the houseboat.  Francy didn’t miss the opportunity to ask the young man to come visiting at their houseboat.  
Jenette was too tired to get angry.  She just enjoyed the story and the chance to visit with the officers.
That night Roberta cooked a tasty dinner.  They had several guests for the meal, all of them the girl’s newest boyfriends.  The boys had talked Jenette into letting them watch an important baseball game during dinner.  Thus, the TV was on, competing with the normal flow of conversation. While Jenette was musing, Another night alone without a man, the doorbell rang.  
Nancy answered the door.  A sixtyish man with greying hair dressed in a sport coat and tie with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other stood in front of her, “Is Jenette available?”
“Mom, there’s someone here to see you.”
Jenette walked to the door and then shouted, “Mr. Wyse and she threw her arms around him.  “Come on in.”  
“He said, “I hope you’ll forgive me for using my connection with Mr. Thompson to get your address and location.  I’ve missed working with you and wanted to express how much you mean to me.”
“There isn’t anyone I’d rather have knocking on my door than you,” and she threw her arms around him again.  She led him by the hand into the dining room and introduced him to her daughters, Isabel, Susan, and the guests.
The following day, Mr. Wyse chartered a power boat and took the whole family water skiing.
* * *
Jenette spent the final week of her visit with the Sacramento Police Department responding to calls with the officers in their patrol cars.  Her responses were taped and would be used for future training videos.
She encountered the gamut of crimes in the city: bank robberies, break-ins, the kidnapping of a school child, the scene of a murder, and even a mass shooter whom Jenette and a handful of officers disarmed before anyone was hurt.
Then the call came, a call just like the one that had been causing the Sacramento Police and police departments across the country so much trouble.  Mrs. McDougal, a local resident, said, “A black man has a gun and he’s trying to break into a home down the street in my neighborhood.”
On the way over to the house Jenette said, “I would never believe a call like that from an average citizen.  Most of them have little experience with people of other races and have a stereo-type idea of what they are like and what they will do. I’d first have to have proof.  If a black or brown person is in a white neighborhood, they immediately assume the worst.  And I’m sorry to say that many people are just plain “racists”.  “I’d approach the person, so that if he were a burglar and shot at me, I would be protected.  Then I’d start a casual conversation with him.  
When they arrived at the house, Jenette did exactly that.  She walked down a grassy parkway between two houses, followed by the officer.  She saw a black man in the back yard bending over what looked like a barbecue holding a cellphone to his ear.  
Jenette stood behind a fence and to the side of a large eucalyptus tree, that she used as shields.  She said in a non-threatening voice, “Hello sir, aren’t you going to invite us over for the picnic?”
Of course, the man turned around to see who was talking.  He said, “Uh, Oh, now I’m in trouble.”       
She said, “I’m sorry to bother you.  I’m with the Sacramento Police Department and I’m wondering if you would help me.  We got one of those calls, you know, a concerned neighbor said she saw a black man with a gun in his hand about to rob one of the houses in the neighborhood.  We get a call like this about once a week and they’re usually bogus.  So I’m not going to believe a word of it until I have some evidence.”
The man held up his cellphone and said, “This must be the gun she was talking about.  No, I’m here to repair the water heater and this gas barbecue.  I work for McKenny and Slone.  
“Mr. Wilkins . . . Mr. Wilkins, will you come out here and explain to this fine police officer why I’m here.”
A sixtyish man dressed in a white tee shirt and shorts with messed up hair and a beer belly stumbled down the back steps and said, “What’s the problem officer, is it a crime to have your plumbing repaired.”
“Of course not.  One of your neighbors claimed that there’s a man in the backyard with a gun trying to break-in.”
“It must be Mrs. McDougal, she’s the neighborhood busybody.  She keeps an eye on everyone and knows everyone’s business except her own.”
“That’s exactly who it was.”
The black man said, “I’m Joe, Joe Pearson.  Mr. Wilkins, she asked me if I’d invite her over for the fixins you’re doing up.”
“Well in that case, officer, I was just making some coffee and cake for Joe and myself.  Would you and your partner like to join us?”
“Why thank you, I’d appreciate that.”
       They sat down at table in the yard, while Mr. Wilkins served refreshments and then he joined them.  They discussed baseball, the weather, and the kinds of prejudices that Joe said he encountered when working in white neighborhoods.  Jenette told how she was brought in as a consultant to help the police department safely handle these kind of incidents.
Joe said, “I’m glad that they are finally doing something about these problems.”  
*  *  *
Needless to say, Jenette and Mr. Wyse spent most of their free time together for the rest of their stay on the river.  When they returned home, they were madly in love and saw each other almost everyday.
Jenette’s seminar for the Sacramento Police Department was a stunning success.  Unwanted shootings declined over the next year to almost zero.  The mayor of Sacramento even offered ten free one-week overseas vacations to the officers to encourage them to visit and understand people of other cultures.  
Mr. Thompson continued to send Jenette to give her seminar to troubled police departments across the United States.  She became quite well-known and respected in the law enforcement community.
Ellen went on to law school and earned her degree and Karen’s band became more and more popular.  Isabel continued to date Spencer, one of the officers she met while giving her presentation.  He visited her in the Dominican Republic, and when she returned to the US the following year, they were married.  The day of Isabel and Spenser’s wedding, Jenette and Mr. Wyse announced their engagement and set a date for their own matrimony.