The Punisher

Mom made a big prepared-meal lasagne but added veggies on the side.

We were mostly unpacked, but Emma and Kara both needed a chest of drawers, some kind of storage solution, so we agreed we'd do that the next afternoon after school was out.

Emma seemed super-frustrated by her work, based on her sighs and mini-throated frustration-warbles (an accurate description). I asked why and walked over. She'd set up on an old folding table we had lying around.

Her book said, "Algebra 2". I looked at it; the side said, 'COOPER' like I wrote on mine so no one could steal them. She'd obviously pulled it off my shelf.

I was confused, "Emma, aren't you a senior?"

"Yeah."

"So... what's with 'Algebra 2?'"

"Uh... I took algebra freshman year, got a D-minus, it Totally Sucked-Assssss. Geometry was okay, sophomore year, but then last year, I took this, and failed it, so I have to take it again."

Bending to look at her homework, I could see where she was going wrong - basic level mistakes, totally simple stuff was wrong. She even multiplied wrong.

"Emma, I know a bunch about teaching math 'cuz they put me in some classes once with some dyslexic kids, and they were doing the same things you are."

Her face screwed up, "I'm not a fuckin' dyslexic fuck, I'm no fuckin' idiot, you can..."

Just right about then, her face screwed up and it looked like she was getting a huge pain somewhere, cringing, and crying out with the agony of it.

I waited, concerned, but all I could do was watch.

"Ohh, yeah, sorry. I have to be respectful, sir. I'm sorry, sir... Kevin, sir."

Her face cleared of the pain.

Waiting for that, I continued, "Let's see what you know..."

That started a chain of me testing her on basic facts, with Kara scooting over to join in, since it wasn't possible to avoid us talking in the otherwise quiet room.

Emma only mostly knew her times tables, didn't know many squares or square roots, and had a slow hard time on long division. They were both missing basic things about algebra, and both didn't know to redo a problem a different way the second time to double-check your answer, or work backwards. No clues.

Looking at them both, I said, "I'm giving you both a task. You must work at least 90 minutes a day on math, until I say differently. First, memorize your times tables to 20 by 20. Also, get out your... well, my, beginning algebra book, and do ALL the homework problems. But, don't do them in order. Keep track, but do them totally out of order. Have some system for that."

They were looking at me like they absolutely had to do what I was saying, but weren't happy about it. That was fine by me.

"Half a piece of paper per problem, but you can use both sides. Use printer paper, we'll get more. Write down ALL the intermediate steps. No simplifying. You can't, we've proved that. Write it all down. Once you're done with all the problems, both of you, compare your answers, double check them. Repeat the process on the next chapter. Then, go back, no referring to notes, and do the problems from the first chapter again, checking your answers once you're all done."

"Work your way through, Every Single Problem in your whole Algebra book, twice. Then, do it again for your geometry book, and then your algebra 2 book. 90 minutes a day, every day, no cheating, ever. Never move until you're done with Really All Of them, and confident of your answers, and fast with the answers. If you can't figure something out, ask each other, or me, if you can't get it."

That was the end of it. I held up my ring hand and touched it. They nodded and got to work, making flash cards. I went online and found some worksheets with all the 20x20 multiplications in random order, and the answer sheets.

My printer didn't work anymore. It was a crappy inkjet and of course the cartridge was out; I'd have to wait for school. Inkjets were a scam but we didn't have money for a real laser one.

We finished up about 10:30 and I went in to brush my teeth. They followed and we all went to bed at the same time.

Emma wondered aloud, in the dark next to me staring up at the ceiling, "what's it going to be like tomorrow? We won't be _with_ you. What if it gets painful?"

"I went running this afternoon. What happened with that?"

Kara answered, "I got anxious, more than Emma. It was like I was hyperventilating. I had to lie down. You came back in time but I was worried."

Kara asked, "You want a blowjob now?"

I thought about it, and I was tired enough to just be blatant with them. Hell, I could probably say anything I wanted to them, they'd just have to cope with it - and I was horny. "I guess, yeah. If I was alone, I'd jerk off, but if you're here, yeah, you should get me off. Sex is better. Is that possible?"

They both said, "Uh...," but Kara added, "I still hurt from last night. Give me a day or two."

My phone binged, and Emma bent and handed it to me. It was a text from Bree Silverman, from the DND group. "Kev Hey / I talked with Mary / said we can speak Truth now / LOL YES I can!!!!! / oddly, I just know she's right / So... I want to date you, too. / wife is fun serious trouble neat crazy cool wondrous fearsome wowzers / e flat major like you said / maybe we could go out?"

The girls could both read this also since I was on my back, phone over my face far enough to let them see. I guessed secrets from them wouldn't last long.

I replied back, "I was not, am not, hurrying 2 get married full stop"

She typed back, "We are 4 u Marut"

Maruts are creatures that create unbreakable contracts. It meant it was a big commitment, I saw that and agreed with her assessment.

I added, "Agree. Bree - you are beautiful and kind and generous and sexy. Problem is, there are requirements. Married - should know the requirements, it's not easy.

"I know about the 16 kids. Auto w your marriage." ... "Wait hold on" ... "Wait" ...

Finally she texted, "Got it. Triggered memory / Remember understand now / We stay young. Great Sex!!!! Build Karma. Stay nearby. Mutual support. 16 kids w u then released. Not sure I want but yes can"

It was too much for one night. I texted (where a / slash is an individual line-send): "Too much today / so very tired / mass next Sunday 9:30 / Same rules for +everyone+ Mary / Alina / Denise / ha quote Chelsea lol / same rules you decide / night c u tomorrow love"

I didn't want to date everyone in the DND group all of a sudden, but at the same time, I did love them. They were part of my circle, my buds, my Best People. I was thinking, if Mary knows about this, and Bree does, I'd better make sure that the other girls don't think I'm playing favorites about going out on dates. The group will get odd. I have to be fair to everyone, at least in what I say.

When I'd typed Denise, it was a habit.

When I was a DM (DND game-master, we took turns), Denise had been in the list and it was muscle memory to add her. At the end I'd 'had the speed-of-mind to NOT type Jo. She and Brian might be a thing, and I didn't want to even joke about dating her.

It wouldn't matter, Denise was in Moncton, four hours' drive away, and busy being in college.

Chelsea was my cover to make the list a joke. She was both going to be valedictorian and simultaneously queen of the universe.

Her name was a Totally Massive In-Joke. In our DND campaigns, 'Chelsea' was the frequent name for dragons or monsters we fought, but never dumb ones. Her name was only attached to formidable (and not-dumb) opponents.

Early on though, when Bill was DM, he set a rule all monsters would be 'Chelsea', they would all wear both a flaming graduation-flat-top-hat and either improbable lingerie or sex-related items like nipple rings or a strap-on. One of the girls added that every Chelsea-monster would speak in verse and make blatant horny innuendos.

What can I say, we were all horny, and geeky, but we had a lot of fun, and all the horny was in-game and very pretend, but mostly classy since the girls frowned if it was too nasty.

As for the last line of text I sent Bree having 'love' in it, I puzzled myself. I think it was because she'd functionally asked to be my wife earlier in the conversation and I was feeling happy.

When I put my phone down Kara said, "You wanted a blowjob. I can do that."

Who was I to argue?

== Monday, First Married School Day ==

Alarm ringing, I realized that I was spooning Emma, my arm over her side and cupping her large and yummy-feeling breast. Involuntarily, which is to say completely voluntarily, my fingers and then whole hand squeezed, just to reinforce how cool the object was that I was holding.

About that time I realized the softness behind me, pressed up against my back, was Kara's breast or breasts. She was spooned up behind me, hugging my chest herself, her face on the back of my neck breathing warm and sweet, an almost-kiss tenderness to it.

This was nice, but someone would need to turn off my ringing alarm, the song 'Water Flowing Underground' by the Talking Heads. After all, where DO the days go by?

Kara rolled away from my back to get it, and I watched her form sit up and get it off the bedside chair, our bedside boxes-tables having been unpacked/moved.

I watched. Her leaning over let her boobs change shape, even in sideboob profile and wow that was nice. Of course, she made it nicer by standing up, showing me a Freakin' awesome butt, and stood up, stretching.

Turning back, I gave one last squeeze on Emma's chest, adding a kiss on her bare shoulder just because I liked the soft skin on my lips... and, maybe, as an appreciation, too. I wasn't sure about that, yet.

Rolling backwards and off the bed, too, I got out and stood, facing Kara. Squeezing her shoulder then as a sign of quasi-affection (automatic, for me, it wasn't like I loved them?) and in a quasi-where-am-I move, I flex-stretched myself as I walked across the room to go to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later I'd finished my shower and Kara was just trading shower-spots places with Emma. I got dressed and put my book bag together.

Facing a school-day prep when everything was in the wrong place? Ug!

The normal me would have gotten angry at this, something that yelled at the universe and myself for being stupid and unorganized and confused. Now, though, I had a sense of calm about it, a confidence that it was going to be okay, that things sort-of already were normal and okay and the correct configuration, just minus a little organizational help.

Stopping to look at my backpack, I realized I was thinking this and contrasted it with my just-last-week-self. I was different. I knew things were different, and I was okay with it?

Starkly, the change in me had to be explainable - either The Voice (in gifting me with a new body) had reduced my autistic tendencies, or had given me some new base assumptions. Of course, I'd just slept with two gorgeous girls (hated and despicable ones, sure, but sexy and soft and Next To MEEEEE).

My good mood might not have been divinely granted.

Emma came back into the room and I watched her pull on her only other pair of underwear (her mom had thrown out odd things). I realized we'd need to replace basics for her, and it wasn't going to be cheap.

Doing nice things for Emma would be hard. I had a grudge, still, and as much as I didn't like having it, I still FELT it.

I spoke up, keeping my voice more calm than my emotional-memory was triggering. "Emma, do you remember when you came down the wide slide in 4th grade and kicked me in the face?" It wasn't a particularly memorable day, maybe, for her, but I remembered it. My face was bruised for a few days.

She stood up and half-turned to me. "Kevin, I was made to remember and re-live every moment of interaction with you, before Friday's trial."

This was news to me! "And?"

Her tone was brazen, assertive, even still. "Yes, I remember it. I remember thinking, 'such a smartass, running around like he owns the place, looking so ugly, how could he?'. I was pretty cruel. I still am - cruel - because I haven't apologized for that. I know, intellectually, that it was wrong of me, but it doesn't quite feel that way yet? Maybe it will over time. Part of the memory included my thought-narrative, my internal monologue. I told myself that you should obey me because I was prettier than you, I had more right to be there and you deserved to be cursed."

Her honesty could be surprising sometimes.

I nodded, a grim smile as I remembered it, too.

She looked up at the ceiling, away from me, and her face got more confused. "I haven't apologized for almost anything? I'm not sure if I can. There's too much to apologize for. I know I should, but it's too much, and I'm not sure I feel all of it yet. I know I should. But, if I do say sorry, and I don't mean it fully, that'd be... more wrong?"

I didn't know what to say, so I just asked, "Can you try, give it a go, for the first things? Maybe it will get easier?"

Emma came over to stand in front of me, then took my hand and knelt down on both knees, sitting on her heels and looking up at me. "Kevin. In second grade, on the first day of class, I ripped up the nametag on top of your desk. I didn't like you being near me, you were two seats away and I thought that if I ripped up your nametag Mrs. Dravidka might switch which seat you were in. I was wrong. You just looked at me and cried, and I wondered if you had tears coming out of your torn-up eye, too. I wanted to see if you did, and if you didn't, I was going to hurt you more, 'cuz I really wanted to see that."

I didn't remember that. So much had happened.

She expected me to say something, so I just said, "I understand."

I thought about her statement. It wasn't an apology. She intended to apologize, I think, but she didn't know how, and it was coming out wrong. "Emma, you're missing something. You described the event, and your motivation. You've left out how your motivation was wrong, and what the right way of thinking and acting should be. Also, you need to say you're sorry."

She was confused, I could see it. She'd intended it as an apology, maybe.

This was obviously something she wasn't used to, so I told her, "Start by writing it out. Every cruelty you can think of. Describe it, and, what I said - all that."

She didn't respond. I knew this wasn't going to go over well, but it seemed pretty important, so I put some force in my voice, and felt it inside, too.

As I thought about it, it was making more sense. "Make a list. Everything where you messed up. Add who was there, when, specifics. Then, ethics analysis - why it was wrong. And, what the right answer would have been. If you don't know, ask someone. Ask politely. Me, Father Paulo, Father Jim, whatever. Keep the questions short, write the answer."

My ring did something different this time - it didn't burn. It felt warm, and her ring started glowing white. When she touched it, I got a small jolt of almost-power.

Kara walked in the room, and Emma turned to her, "We have tasks."

Kara nodded, then looked at me and said, "We'll be ready for school in a couple of minutes. We're missing some of our schoolbooks, though, so we're probably going to have to pay the school back for them."

I took my bag upstairs and had some cereal and a banana.

They came up ten minutes later, wet-faced like they'd been crying, got a banana, and we coats and hats, on and walked out.

Technically, we could have taken the bus. I never did, it was full of ugly people, meaning, mean people. Instead, we had the 'ugly' of walking in windy, cold air almost 3 km to school. In nice weather, I rode my bike, but this was February, and besides, I didn't have bikes for all of us.

Emma asked how far it was and eventually I figured out she'd probably never walked to school before, and neither had Kara. I wasn't waiting for their slow pace, though, I walked my normal speed and figured they'd keep up.

Technically we were going to be there early, but since they'd mentioned not having some of their books, I knew we'd have to stop at the office early to ask how to replace them.

Glancing a few times back at them, I saw Emma had her times-tables flashcards out. That was good of her, a useful thing to do.

The problem was, even though they were doing the right thing, I was just aggravated. I had to put up with this hassle. I usually walked alone. I liked walking alone. I had things to look at, favorite stuff to notice, etc. Seagulls, birds, squirrels... I liked it.

Instead, all the extra hassles meant I didn't have room anymore - no room for my alone rituals. I couldn't really be alone again, maybe? Everything in my life, in my house, was being shoved willy-nilly. My life was upside-down.

Still, I'd woken up copping a feel and that had felt nice.

We got to school almost an hour early and headed for the office.

Mrs. Henderson was the school secretary, I'd talked with her quite a few times before. She had a hard time not looking at my scar usually so I usually just looked at the art on the wall and kept the undamaged part of my face towards her.

This time, we walked in and she greeted me with a bigger smile and just looked at me, like it was nothing. Of course, it wasn't - I didn't have the scar anymore. "Mr. Cooper! Good to see you this morning."

There was some other stuff going on - several other people handling problems at the counter. I ignored that and waited for the girls to come up behind me. After I greeted her back, I asked, "So, Emma and Kara are missing some of their schoolbooks, their mothers seem to have not sent them over."

"Oh, no, they couldn't have. Both ladies brought all those textbooks back, as required by district policy. It's all turned in and handled. Their lockers were emptied by staff and the boxes sent to their homes by Canada-Post."

"Uh... Why? Why the...?"

She got a tolerant look on her face like she was explaining the obvious, "Disenrolled, Kevin. Expelled. You can't murder someone and stay in school. We have a strict policy on violence, even if it's off school grounds."

I turned to look at the girls. They had horrified expressions on their faces, but instead of crying or complaining, they were utterly silent, like their voices had stopped working. I turned back to Mrs. Henderson, who was just paying attention to me, the girls weren't there, really.

She continued, "Now, you're married, and there's a policy on that, too. So, yes, they can be here even if they're not students. We normally wouldn't grant them a hall pass. You know, Murderers shouldn't get hall passes, pretty simple stuff! But, we also know you're assigned to stay nearby or there's pain, and we're not going to hurt you."

"Thanks?"

"So, they can be in the same classroom as you, or outside in that hallway, or in a semi-public area like the cafeteria or library, or a restroom. That's it. As for lunch, food is for enrolled students only."

I nodded, I got that. They'd have to pack a lunch.

"Lastly, since you're newlyweds, I'd presume you're used to having loud sex, that's fine, understandable, but do it in a bathroom, or locker room, maybe an empty classroom. Whatever. We all just don't want to look at their frankly hideous faces."

I was confused. "A bathroom? We could have... sex... in a bathroom?"

"Sure. Really, either one's fine. If you're with your wife, or both of them, no one will question anything - you being together in the lady's, the gents, whatever. Even the lady's locker room, that's fine of course. Married now, you've seen it all anyway, no secret body parts for you anymore. Your business. Not sure if it's a written policy, sex with your wives, in a room with people in it, but truth be told it wouldn't be worth mentioning, that's private stuff, not our business. What, given your status? Sir, you just ask and we'll handle it, any office or a locked room, Mr. Harms can get you a key."