OZone 15 : Prince cHARMING

Marge wasn't quite convinced.

"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS GOING ON OVER HERE?" roared Pastor Joseph Grogan who had returned from his journey accompanied by a Priest dressed in black.

Gina held her hand up, "Relax, Joseph. The boys were just having fun. Everyone was."

Joseph frowned realizing that Garrison had arrived. The Priest stood shoulder to shoulder with Joseph folding his arms, "They do seem to be having fun, Joseph."

The Pastor nodded, "Indeed. All for a good cause. Come Father Timothy. Allow me to introduce you to my Nephews."

The tall, thin, redheaded Man in black followed Joseph around the truck avoiding the mist from the hoses until they reached Garrison who stopped and pointed to Connor, "Stay right there in yer bed or you won't get no lunch."

Connor growled turning the other way in an attempt to run. Only to find a face full of hose water.

"Hey, Connor. Remember me?" Clearing his eyes Connor looks down at a plump teenager with dark hair, almost receding who wore thick rimmed glasses.

"Oliver?"

"He remembers. Good to know Choirboy."

Connor turned pale recalling his forced days in the Church choir at his Mother's behest. He hated it. Not only could his singing voice chase off a flock of crows, it managed to get his Aunt Gina to wear earplugs during recitals.

"Hey, Ollie. Long time no see." Smiled Connor as he lowered his gaze to whisper, "As if I could miss you."

The boy chuckles then hands a bucket of soap water and a sponge up to him, "Here. You can clean the roof of the cab."

Connor claimed the bucket and sat it down on the bed floor. Oliver then took over a hose spraying the side of the truck.

"So, where have you been, Connor? Haven't seen you in years. You've gotten tall."

Connor could say the same of Oliver in unrelated proportions. "Military school. Against my wishes. Don't ask." Oliver didn't. He was nudged over by a cute blond with her hair pinned back, "Hey Stacy. Find your own mud flap."

The blond grimaced at him, "You're not even getting the dirt off Ollie Oxen. Move aside there's customers in line." Oliver wrinkled his nose and sprayed the blond dead in the chest. The white t-shirt revealed just a little too much as her sports bra beneath became as transparent as her t-shirt. Oliver's eyes bulged at the sight, "Sorry Stacy."

She looked down at herself realizing her nipples were shining brightly and swiftly covered her chest, "I can't believe you just did that. You pervert."

Connor came to her defense spilling his bucket over Oliver's head then dropping the bucket over his field of vision. Oliver shrieked like a baby dropping the hose to pull the bucket off of his head. Immediately Connor yanked his dark shirt off and handed it down to her. Stacy smiled brightly snatching it up and pulling it over her other shirt. "Thanks. Connor, right?"

"Connor James. You can give me my shirt back later. Apologize Ollie."

Stacy frowned, "He already did. I'm over it. My name's Stacy Kinner. I think I remember you vaguely. Your Mom was Nora LeGend. I loved her voice."

Then, it occurred to her how badly Connor's voice was. Lowering her eyes she changes the subject.

"Anyways. Welcome back. Let's get your truck washed before Gina starts cracking her bullwhip."

Connor grins, "She won't whip us. I'll stop eating her Custard pie that she brings over once a week. That will make her beg for mercy."

Stacy chuckles, "You too? She drops one by my house every two weeks. My Dad's the only one that likes it."

Connor stops staring at Stacy long enough to look over his shoulder as his Dad shakes hands with the Priest.

"Pleasure's mine Father Time. Love the collar."

The freckled Priest grins sheepishly at Dhorne's comment, "I have a fancy for it myself. But, I know of what you mean by it. In a sense we're all slaves to God. We do his bidding after all."

Oz nods with a pucker, "Reckon so. So, dueling banjos I see. Y'all chose a mighty fine day to wash some chariots. Course the forecast for the next few days is possible showers. Reckon someone's cryin' over spilt "Cascade". Dottin' the eyes and crossin' the tease. They just might call y'all hot and cold runnin' Waiters and tell ya the glass is spotted."

Father Tim nods with a chuckle, "Indeed they might. Joseph here tells me that you've moved back to Bartlett to stay. After three years. Why away so long, Mister Dhorne?"

Oz tilts his head back and forth, "Business took me to a far off place called "Nunya". It's near Kenya."

The Priest notes Dhorne's reluctance to discuss his past, "I see. On safari?"

"You lookin' for Ivory? Cuz I ain't up for smilin'. "

Joseph clears his throat, "Garrison, please. Father Tim is only being sociable. Restrain your bite."

Oz smirks, "I'll restrain when I'm ready, Joey. So, Father? Why do I see deceit in yer eyes and manner?"

The Priest narrows his eyes, "Forgive me? I know not what you are referring to."

Dhorne points across the street, "Confessional's that way. Forgive yerself before God can."

Father Tim hesitates then looks at Joseph, "I believe it's time to return to my children."

Oz bites his lip, "You ever notice yer church has PETER and the word LIC in cathoLIC? Kinda sounds like an Omen more than an Amen. You like hearin' O's Father Time? Well I'm Oz. Same principle different syllable."

Timothy turns beat red, "Are you insinuating I--" He lowers his voice, --defile Altar boys?"

Joseph drops his jaw and stands between them, "GARRISON! Enough. I apologize for my Nephew, Timothy. Perhaps you should go."

Timothy eyes Dhorne then calms his brewing temper, "You are very wrong, Mister Dhorne. I will pray for you to see the truth. Good day Joseph. Good luck raising the money for your cause."

Oz points behind Timothy, "Raised it already. These kids do good work."

Joseph steps in front of Timothy with his mouth gaping, "Garrison? What have you done?"

Oz slaps him on the shoulder followed by another hand on Timothy's deltoid against his better judgment. Coming up the street were twelve rolling wheelchairs with smiling elders at the helm. Care workers were pushing them along with umbrella's poised over their heads for shade. Each of the elderly people were wearing motorcycle helmets and leather vests that said, "Hells Agels". The chairs were detailed with racing flames on the chrome.

"Good Heavens!" Joseph flared, "Garrison? Did you instigate this?"

A cheesy grin leered toward Gina and Marge, "Y'all best break out the turtle wax, Ginalou. These here weary travelers need to shine up their Hogs." Gina stepped closer to hug Joseph from the side, "Look dear. A miracle." Joseph almost exposed a tear then pulled away from Dhorne to walk toward the oncoming chairs. He was speechless. Gina smiled back at Oz then followed her husband.

Father Timothy in his discomfort remained held firmly in place by Dhorne's grip, "That was very kind of you, Mister Dhorne."

Oz puckered his lower lip, "Yup. Sure was. Now where were we? Oh, yea. Omen's. What's your last name, Father?"

The Priest swallows, "Hennessy. Timothy Hennessy. Might I ask why you wish to know?"

Oz chuckles, "Father Hen. Appropriate. For a Mother fucker."

Timothy savagely pulls away from Dhorne's grasp, "How dare you. Who do you think you are calling me such a name?"

Oz winks at him, "Read ya like a Good Book. I see somethin' in ya I don't like Daddio. I'm never wrong. If I was you I'd pray we don't set eyes on one another again. If I do? I'll drag you back to the Vatican kickin' and screamin'. The Pope can paddle yer ass and be on his Mary way. Go on back home there, Timbuk. Visit yer Holy Lands and keep the faith."

Timothy shakes his head in awe of Dhorne's brashness, "You have me mistaken, Mister Dhorne. For a Man with such vision you must have assuredly looked at your own last name. Dhorne! Place the D at the end your name becomes, "Horned." A devil indeed."

Oz places his hands over his ears and uses his index fingers to manipulate the look of horns. A searing gaze forces Timothy to shiver.

"Further harassment will require my Lawyer's involvement. Good day, Mister Horned. May God forgive you."

Dhorne looks up at the blue sky, "Hot ain't it?"

Timothy takes his leave in disgust. Dhorne knew he was right. It might not be sexual abuse but something was definitely up. He pats the hairs on his neck, "Calm down fellas. Y'all can stop crossin' hairs, he's in my sights."

Joseph and Gina guide the elderly forward to introduce Garrison who returned a warm smile to each of them. "For those of you who are unaware of your indispensable benefactor, this is our dashing nephew Garrison Dhorne. A shock to all of us I fear. My nephew here has graciously funded these lovely new vehicles to the Home. A round of applause if you please."

Arthritic fingers clap the best they can as the elder women offer hugs from their seats. A sight of true beauty. Marge Bauer stood back in admiration. Perhaps she was wrong about this man. Her eyes move over to his son Connor standing with Stacy and Oliver with laughter as they finish cleaning the truck. Even her Granddaughter Kelsey was having the time of her life aiding Patricia and the other youngsters. A tear nearly fell from her cheek when her cellphone vibrated in her purse. The start made her jump. Swiftly, she opens her purse and answers her cell.

"Hello? Why Gertrude, Good afternoon. How are you today? Tell "Hotwire" I said hello. Yes, the car wash is a resounding success. I believe I've just met the most remarkable man. He funded the new wheelchairs without Joseph even knowing. For all of his arrogance I do believe he has a wonderful soul. His name? Garrison Dhorne."

A scream forces the cell from Marge's ear, "Gertrude? Is everything okay? Gertrude? Why are you loading your shotgun? GERTRUDE?"

The cell falls silent as Marge stands with eyes wide, "Oh, my Stars. What could have possibly gave Gert such a start?"

Back at the Bauer Household.

"It's a balmy 93 degrees out for all of you Lunch breakers. Head on out to the swimming holes and cool yourselves off while you can. Midweek forecast will cool things down as an 80% chance of showers should quench those dusty ole crop beds."

A crow from a rooster echoes behind the newscaster who pauses, "That's my cue Kiddies. Time for this ole Coot to head on back to the hen house and goose my Millie. There's an ice cold lemonade with my name inside a heart drawn into the condensation of that tall ole glass. Y'all have yourself a good rest of the day, Greater Bartlett and Central Alabambam. God bless and a Cockle doodle did. This is "Rooster Brewster" signing out." The radio goes silent in favor of dead air. Peace and quiet at last.

"Mom?"

Eyes that had refused to flutter peek open to blinding sunlight through lowered blinds casting heavily across the headboard. For the first time in weeks Jordan Bauer had been allowed to sleep in. Husband Doug was in Mobile, Alabama dealing with clients over his proposed Boxing Arena designs. With school out the girls were off with their friends or with her In-law's until later in the evening. So she thought. What the hell happened?

Her bedroom door creaks open followed by shuffling feet across the carpet. Jordan did her best to ignore this bad dream. Then, came the weight pushing downward at the foot of her mattress.

"What's wrong now?" Jordy ushers through a dry, hoarse throat. Remaining lifeless she awaits a reply. Robin, her oldest daughter exhales loudly until her Mother groggily lifts her head from her pillow, wincing against the sun's rays. An eye brow is raised as she realizes her daughter was topless.

"Mom, I need a new bra. My boobs are bursting. The old one's can barely contain them. Even worse my swimsuit. They want to fall out. Bad situation."

Jordy drops her head back on to her pillow, "Is that all?"

"Get into my undies drawer. Try on some of mine."

Robin in reaction frowns at the concept of sharing her Mother's under garments. With another deafening sigh she hops up and pulls open a top dresser drawer, sifting through various brassieres. Lifting each of them up to her chest to admire herself in the vanity. Her eyes grow wide at how she looked in black lace.

"I like this one."

Jordan peels her eyelids open again and ventures to turn her head enough to see her daughter twisting and turning from side to side examining her support. She couldn't help but smile, remembering how her own nurturing twin terrors had made her own Mother crazy. Three girls. Her sister's were all quite blessed. Her Mother took up drinking with each cup size.

Sitting up in bed she stretches dramatically as the spaghetti strings of her camisole dangled over her biceps. Adjusting them back to normal to keep from exposing her chest she throws the sheets off of her to climb out of bed. Standing behind Robin staring at her daughter in the mirror she smiles then reaches up to pull the hair from Robin's shoulders. Reaching around Robin, Jordy couples her hands over her daughters breasts creating a moment of tension.

"Relax. Your Mom's not a Herflirt. I'm only helping you fit into it properly."

Robin swallows with a sneer, "I know how to wear a bra."

Jordy smirks, "A size 36C. My baby is growing up."

Robin chuckles heaving her tits upwardly as Jordy removes her own hands.

"Growing up? Try blowing up."

Her Mother sighs, "I think a cup size lower would fit more proportionately. The supports there but it's a little loose." She tilts her head from side to side, "Maybe not. I'm going to let you have this bra on one condition." She points an index finger at Robin through her reflection. "Your Father doesn't find out you're wearing Frederick. You wear dark shirts over it. After all, it is more revealing than you're used to. Even more so than I wore at your age. Understood?"

Robin grins with an active nod, "Gotcha. Did Daddy tell you about my low cut shirt I got from Dani's Mom? He made me change out of it."

With a fidgeting smirk Jordan squeezes her daughters shoulders, "What your Father doesn't see won't get us both grounded. Wear something over the shirt until you leave home. You can change once he's out of range. I know what it's like to want to flaunt what you have. I was your age once. Just be careful not to overdo it. School begins in two weeks. We can't have that nuisance Principal Gillespie making accusations that might reach your Father's attention. When school starts up I'm almost certain you won't be the only new and improved Senior at Bartlett High."

Robin giggles turning around to face her as she clasps her bra. "I need all the help I can get. Thanks, Mom." Robin begins to walk away then pauses, "Mom?"

"Yes, my stunning younger self?"

They share a strange look at one another. "When I was at the pool with Dani, I saw the funniest thing. Some new boy I've never seen before, my age I think, was in a batting cage. He was trying to hit the ball but I think the ball hit him more often than he hit the ball. It was sooo cute. Picture Kelsey with a bat. That kind of cute. Anyway, He was swinging so wild he fell down twice and got nailed in the back. I could feel his pain. Tyler Coffey", She winks at her Mother, "Bartlett's quarterback four years running and some others were making fun of him. Poor guy. It was funny I guess. Hard not to laugh. The kids Dad was in the cage next to him. He was hitting every ball that came his way. I think he must have been a stuntman. He even used the bat like a pool stick and bunted the ball. He was amazing. I think his Dad was embarrassed by his son though. The boy ran off Tyler said. To his Dad's truck. They had some weird car alarm. It was hilarious. The boy locked himself inside his Dad's truck." A lengthy pause to catch her breath, "Oh, Tyler Coffey asked me on a date. Can I go?"

Jordan stands expressionless then hesitantly forms a thin smile, "Ask your Father. How old is this, Prince Charming?"

Robin cringes with honesty, "He's a Senior this year. Eighteen I think. Please let me. He's gorgeous. I want to make all of the cheerleaders jealous. I sooo want to be popular this year."

Jordy shook her head negatively, "Grades before boys. Your Father and I meet this Tyler first then decide. Why don't you just try out for the Cheerleading squad? I know how agile you are. You love to dance. Turn their heads that way."

Robin chokes with laughter, "You must be high. No way. Mallory and the others would humiliate me. Besides, I'm too reserved to cheer the racy chants they do." She wiggles around giggling then runs her hands between her legs, "Grrrrrrr. GO WILDCATS!" Jordan stared at her daughter in awe.

"You're right. No cheering for you."

"Besides that Mom, there's two things I don't have. Black hair which I refuse to color mine darker. And, two my name doesn't begin with the letter "M". Mallory, Mandy, Maxine, Missy, Mona, Miranda, and Macey." Coach Goode would laugh me out of try-outs."

Jordy giggles, "MMM MMM Goode."

Robin narrows her eyes then realizes how ironic it was. "Oh, my God. I never even thought of that. That's hilarious. Way to go, Mom." As their giggling fades Robin lowers her eyes, "Mom?"

"Stop that. Just ask."

Continuing to stare at the floor she gets the courage up to finish what she wanted to say. "Why does Dad seem to think you're shy? Is it because you dress like Principal Gillespie?"

Jordy drops her jaw unamused, "I do NOT dress like Gillespie. I'm so not yesterday's Librarian with Nazi motif. Just for that I'm going to call your Grandma Marge and ask her to let you borrow her old brassieres."

Robin's eyes bulge, "EWWWW! That's just gross. They would be like pup tents on me. And smelly."

Jordy freezes her expression and makes her point. "My Mother merely instilled upon Me to be a lady. Not some hooch. I occasionally dress up. Or is that down? Anyway. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Now give me a hug."

Robin swiftly darts into her Mothers embrace and stays there.

"I love you, Mom."

Jordan sighs on her daughters shoulder, "At least someone does. So, are you staying home?"

Robin pulls away, "No. I'm going back to the pool. I left my clothes there. Dani's waiting on me."

Jordan frowns with concern, "You left your clothing at the pool. You wore your bathing suit home?"

Robin nods, "Can I buy a bikini?"

Jordan inhales deeply when the door bell rings. Saved by the bell. "I'm not dressed. Go see who that is." Robins eyes bulge looking down at her chest, "As if I am." Jordy fidgets then snatches up her robe off of the hook on the bedroom door. Wrapping and tying it quickly she heads to the front door allowing Robin a chance to dash through the living room to her own bedroom. Once out of sight Jordan opens the door. "Dottie! Good morn--er--afternoon." Jordan rears back, "Robin? It's Dani's Mother."

"Sorry to bother you, Jordan. Dani called me and asked if I could swing by and pick Robin up. I'm heading over to the Church car wash and the pool is on my way. It's a shame I can't talk the girls into helping out. I suppose we lived in our own world at their age. Didn't we?" smiled the medium built woman with large brown hair that almost styled as if she lived in the Fifties.

Jordan nodded with a pucker of her lower lip, "We were just talking about that."

Robin makes her appearance without haste saving her Mother a long boring conversation. "Hi, Mrs. Woodward. A ride would be awesome. Can I Mom?"

Jordan frowned at the whole bikini idea. "We shall see. Go have fun. Be home by six o'clock. No earlier, no later."

A kiss to her Mother's cheek sends her bolting out the door past Dottie Woodward. Dottie pauses, "Want to join me on duty at the car wash? We can hold the signs up on the street announcing the benefit."