There Must Be a Mistae

Note: All persons used in this novel are fictitious. Although the areas used in this novel are real, the points of interest used to make this interesting reading for you, are neither at the exact heights, or in the location described. If you are looking for a great deal of explicit sexual activity, this is not the story for you. As I have it notated now, those scenes will be evocative rather than aggressive. They also will be few and far between. This is going to be a "SHORT STORY, for your reading pleasure," with no more than "FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS." With the exclusion of certain scenes, this story could easily fit into the category of "NON-EROTIC" as easily as it will fit into Novels or Novella. Again, please remember, 'THIS IS A NOVEL.'

ATTN: The first man you are going to meet in this story is named "Even," not "Evan." "Even" as in "Even and Odd." If you think that is weird, wait until you read this story; it only gets worse!"

*****

1. It Was A Bad Way To Start My Day

My friend, and attorney, Rod Laver called me at 7:30 AM MST to tell me he had some bad news for me. He always started his conversations with me that way, so I asked him, which patent was turned down."

"Even I'm sorry, but it's much worse than that. I received a call from the Waterville Police Department. Your parents and your sister were killed while trying to cross railroad tracks ahead of an oncoming train.

They were speeding on their way to the hospital to check on Julius' injury. He suffered was hurt during a football game with his friends. He died on the way to the hospital. I am so sorry for your loss."

"Rod, I haven't seen or spoken to most of them in nearly 10 years. You know the whole story. I never expected to lose all of them at the same time. I am not going to go there. It will be hard to see them lined up like dominoes, especially my sister. There is no sense to go there, anyway. They are all gone. Contact a lawyer in Waterville, and have them buried together. Have him settle the estate, and give the money to a local women's charity in Divines' name. We were very close."

"Even you have to go to Waterville. You have to bring your niece back here with you. You are her godfather, and legal guardian. You are the only family she has left. She is 16 years old, and you are responsible for her until she is 18."

"THERE MUST BE A MISTAKE!"

You know I can't deal with women. I hide when the housekeepers come to clean this house. What am I supposed to do with a 16-year-old girl? She was supposed to go to his sister."

"Apparently your sister was able to make a change, and made you her guardian. It might not be so bad, because according to her dossier, she is almost as smart as you are. Her IQ is 183. Her school grades don't show that capability though. She is a C or below student. It is possible that you two can help each other out."

"Don't try to humor me Rod. Send her to a boarding school for the next 2 years. I will pay all expenses, and make sure she has enough money to last her for the rest of her life. She cannot live in this house with me. She is a female, and I do not know how to deal with females."

"You knew how to deal with Tammy Hopkins."

"Rod, she was 7 years old, and when I gave her a Valentine's Day card, she smacked me."

"If you knew how to spell back then, you would have been king of the classroom. You remember what you wrote on her Valentines' day card? "Tammy, you are a sweet as an all-day fucker." Every girl in the class would have smacked you. If you had put an 'S' instead of that 'F' on that card, she might have kissed you."

"Rod, you can't remember to file my taxes on time, but you can remember a story from 26 years ago."

"I always file an extension for your taxes. You have never been audited by the IRS, and you have never been fined. I will rent a private jet to fly you to Maine tomorrow morning. Do you want me to send someone over to pack your clothes, or are you going to remember to pack underwear?"

"Be nice to your only client Rod, or you will wind up being an ambulance chaser for the rest of your life."

"I always wanted to buy an expensive pair of 'Air Jordan's. This will finally give me an excuse to put them down as a business expense. Do you want me to come along with you?"

"You had better be on that aircraft with me. I need someone who will be able to speak to Delicious."

"Who the hell is Delicious?"

"She is my niece. The 16-year-old female with the 183 IQ; the one you want me to live with her for the next 2 years. Find me a boarding school in Denver; I know there is none here in Idaho Springs."

"I have a thought Even; and don't scream at me until I finish saying what's on my mind. Why don't you homeschool her? Apparently, she does not relate well to people. It reminds me of her uncle, who does not relate well to women, or men without a scientific background. She can take her courses online, and she can talk to the male of the household, about any problem she may be having. You can yell at me now."

I didn't yell at my friend; I slammed the phone instead. I believe he understood my answer.

At 12 PM his secretary called, and told me to be at the Denver airport at 8 AM for our flight to the Robert La Fleur airport, in Waterville Maine. I asked her which Denver airport, and she replied, "The old one."

I detest getting up early in the morning, because I do my best work starting late in the evening, and working until the wee small hours of the morning. If there is one thing I have learned living at 11,000 feet above sea level, it is any moisture on the roads turns to ice very quickly. Black ice on black roads leads to many fatal accidents, especially when you are driving downhill to the Mile High City: Denver, Colorado.'

I called a car service, Yes; Idaho Springs does have a car service, and asked them to pick me up as soon as possible, and take me to the closest hotel to the old Denver International airport.

One hour later, a GMC Yukon stopped at my perimeter gate. I put in the security code, which lowered the concrete posts, and opened the security gates to let him in to my compound. I threw my bag into the back seat, and rode shotgun. From my home, just west of Idaho Springs, to the airport hotel was a little more than 90 miles. For the majority of the trip, the driver barely had to touch the gas pedal, due to the steep declines through the rugged mountain terrain, and we were going well over 60 miles an hour, on Interstate 70. If you ever have a chance to come this way, try to keep at least one eye on the road, because the scenery up here is magnificent, and the guardrails will not keep you from driving over the side of the mountain.

******

Once I was ensconced in my room, I took out the latest tome on the "Micro-Digital Implantation of Sub-Cellular Diagnostics, and Functional Memory Enhancement," written by my friend and MIT colleague Suh Andrehardra. Of the 1300 pages I read so far, I sent four emails to him, advising him I found eight computation errors on his work. I did not say what they were, for fear they might be picked up by a hacker, and sold to another scientist doing research in the same area. I mailed them to his address at the Scripps Institute in Jupiter Florida, in a plain white envelope, with no return address.

He was, and still is not very unhappy with me. We have been having a rather non-collegial discourse over these facts and figures for the past 3 months. He refuses to believe he is wrong, while I laugh knowing I am correct. We have a $1 wager on the outcome of his next test, which will occur in four months' time.

At MIT, our colleagues had bet on which one of us could squeeze a penny harder. It turned out to be a tie, and Professor Gilchrest won. He received $18 for his efforts, because everyone in our Microbiology class bet $1 each. We were all poor students at the time, and had to make each penny count.

*******

We took off at 8:15 AM MST, and landed in Waterville at 2:55 PM EST. I rested, and slept the entire way across the continent, even though Rod did not shut up from takeoff through landing. It is a gift I learned, while sitting through boring lectures and seminars. There was no one at the airport to greet us, not that I expected anyone to be there.

Rod drove us straight to the Funeral Home, using the GPS that was installed in the vehicle. It was worse than I thought. There were three closed caskets, and one open casket containing the body of my brother-in-law, Julius Mark. Sitting in the last row was a teenage girl, with an elderly woman attempting to console her. The youngster was inappropriately dressed for this occasion. She was wearing a miniskirt that barely covered her essentials. Her see-through top displayed her young breasts for everyone to see. I was appalled.

Rod whispered, "Now that is what I call 'Delicious'."

I whipped around and said, "That is my niece?"

My friend smiled and nodded his head.

Apparently I said it loud enough for the young woman to hear. She looked at the way I was dressed and said, "Holy Fuck, you're 'Even;' eat shit and die; I am not going to live with a dork."

I was incensed. I don't know where my courage came from or where the words were formed, because I never have the courage to speak to a woman. I always stuttered and stammered when I tried to speak face-to-face with any woman, but not now. This time I said, "Fantastic, I don't want a hooker living in my house either. How much do you charge for a blow job?"

Rod couldn't control himself, as he laughed. These were the first words I had with the opposite sex, in nearly 18 years, and I asked about the price of a blowjob.

She said, "I don't charge, I give them out for free."

Apparently, my brain was on automatic and it continued rolling. It said, "Okay, let's get in front of your mother's coffin; get down on your knees, and give me a good one, just like she would."

Delicious came at me just as the freight train did that day our family died. She pounded my head and chest with all the fury that was stored up inside her. "Don't you ever speak about my mother that way."

I kept going, letting her vent all the anger and frustration inside her body and soul, since the accident.

"My sister was a hooker just like you. Who else gets pregnant at 16 years old? She was screwing everybody and anybody who asked, since she was in grammar school. I was surprised it took her so long to get pregnant."

Delicious was livid as I continued to demean her mother. She went on hitting and cursing at me, until she finally ran out of strength, and cried out, "Mom told me she was a virgin when she went to Cape Cod for Spring Break and met Julius. He promised to pull out before he came, because he did not have any condoms. He said it was his first time too."

"Naturally, being young and impressionable, you believed her. She was a slut. She dressed like you, and went to school without panties or a bra. She would step in to the janitor's closet with any boy that asked. She would get fucked quickly, and go to her next class with semen dripping down her leg. She was a running joke."

"She was not a slut; she took great care of me. She loved me, and taught me everything I know."

"Yes, I can tell; just look at the way you are dressed for her funeral. You are dressed nearly identical to the way she used to go to school. Do you have panties on under that thing that is supposed to resemble a skirt?"

"Why, do you want to take a look?"

"Why not, I saw my sister parading around our house naked all the time. You probably aren't much different than she was. A hooker is a hooker, a slut is a slut. Let me see what you have under there, if anything? Do you shave?"

Rod hit me on my shoulder and said, "Even, stop this."

"Rod, you can have her after I am finished with her. Actually, she can take us both on at the same time. She is probably familiar with double teaming."

Delicious screamed. "My mother helped me keep my head on straight. She taught me how to keep boys away from me. That's why I am still a virgin."

I laughed. "You are a virgin, like I am an astronaut."

"You bastard; my mother drilled it into my head so I wouldn't wind up like she did. She didn't want me to be in a loveless marriage, with a husband that screwed any woman who spread her thighs. She couldn't leave him because there wasn't enough money, and our bills were too high. Her parents wouldn't help her, because they forced her to marry him. You were no help, because you never talked to anyone. Mom would not beg you for anything. She knew how wealthy you were, but she wouldn't ask you for a penny. She got herself into the mess she was in, and was determined to make sure I didn't fall into the same trap. I didn't care about my father or my grandparents, because in my book they were all bastards. They did not care about my mother. These people won't even let me look at her, because she was hurt so badly."

"Have you eaten today?" She

"No."

I turned to Rod and told him I was taking my niece to dinner. He knew I wanted him to move heaven and earth to have my sister look as beautiful in death as she was in life. I wanted Delicious to be able to look upon and touch her mother one last time.

I reached out my hand for Delicious to take, and much to my joy she did. I led her out to the car and stopped. I asked her if she knew how to drive.

"Yes, but I don't have a license."

"As long as you know how to drive, who cares?"

I threw her the keys, and for the first time she smiled. She got behind the wheel, adjusted her seat, and mirrors. Then she asked, "Where are we going?"

"This is your town, where do you want to eat?"

"There is a really fancy restaurant just west of Interstate 95. I would love to go there, but we could never afford it."

"If it is fancy, I will not let you go there looking as you are. We have to go clothes shopping first. Where is the finest women's store in town?"

"It's in the same shopping plaza as the restaurant. Their clothes are very nice, but very expensive."

"I have never shopped for a woman, and as you can tell by looking at me, I am not too good at shopping for myself either. I am going to ask for help from the people that work in the store. I will ask for your opinion. My opinion will be the tiebreaker. I am not going to buy you a lot of clothes here, but when we get to Denver, I will get someone to help outfit you completely. You will never again dress as you are now, because I will not allow it. You are going to live with me for 2 years minimum. If you want to leave me after that time, I will make sure you never are at a loss for money. Let's go shopping."

I didn't remember how small Waterville was, but in less than five minutes we were outside a large store devoted to women only. Delicious walked in ahead of me, and a greeter said to her, "We don't serve your kind here."

She turned and ran out of the store crying, right into my arms. She told me what happened.

I said to her, "Come with me."

We walked, hand in hand, back into the store, and Delicious pointed out the woman who had insulted her.

I walked up to her, with Delicious standing slightly behind me. I asked her if she was the manager of the store.

She said, "No."

"Do you own this store?"

She replied, "No."

"Is either the owner or manager available?"

"The owner is in the store; would you like to speak to him?"

"Yes please, as quickly as possible."

Robert Morningside approached me, and asked how he might help me. I said, "This woman insulted my niece, when she entered your store. I want her fired, immediately."

Mister Morningside looked at Delicious and laughed. "I would have insulted your niece also, because of the way she is dressed. She looks like a whore."

"Mister Morningside do you have a mortgage on this store?"

"I don't believe that's any of your business."

"My attorney will find out within 24 hours. Within 60 hours, I will own that mortgage. If you are one day late with a payment, I will start foreclosure proceedings against you. Even if you become current, your interest rate will go up to the maximum allowed by law. You will never have a day's rest again, while you own this store."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Google the name 'Even Luck'; look at the picture, and my net worth. See if this employee is worth the trouble I am about to cause you."

A few minutes later he came running back to the front of the store and said, "Sally you are fired. Come back to the store on Tuesday to pick up your final paycheck."

"But, Mister Morningside..."

"Pick up your belongings and leave, Sally."

"Mister Luck, how may we assist your niece?"

"I want the clothes she is almost wearing burned. I want your best people to help her pick out clothing that fits her age group. The most expensive you have. At least 14 sets of undergarments; six pair of slacks, a dozen blouses, six skirts, four dresses, and calfskin knee-length leather coat. I want her to look like a 16 year old debutante, who attends Bowdoin College."

Delicious looked at me as if I was crazy. I thought she was going to rebel, but she said, "Dresses; I've never worn a dress."

"You also have an IQ of 183, and you have never received an 'A' on your report card. Would you like to discuss that now, or over dinner?"

"I am only going to be living with you for 2 years. It would take longer than that to this explain everything."

"I want you to know that I have not had a conversation this long, with any woman, outside of school, in nearly 18 years. I have said more to you in the last hour than I have with any woman, since grammar school. I do not relate well to the female of the species. When my cleaning service comes to my home, I run down into the basement, so I do not have to see or talk to them. I am a scientist, I love what I do, and I do it with my computers. I understand them, and they understand me. I can relate to my fellow scientists, because we speak the same language. I can speak to my attorney, Rod, because he has been my friend since childhood. I am his only client, and we are closer than brothers.

Three women approached us, and one of them said, "Honey, you have to come with us to the dressing room."

I growled at the woman. "My nieces name is Delicious; use it."

"Yes sir."

"Delicious, if you would come this way please."

Delicious looked at me and asked, "Do you want me to model my underwear for you?"

I smiled. "Of course I do; first the bras, then the panties, and then both together."

Stunned, she said, "You don't mean that do you?"

"Your mother was a virgin, until she went to Cape Cod. We were inseparable as kids."

"What happened that separated everyone?"

"You are only going to be living with me for 2 years. It would take longer than that to explain everything."

She frowned. "You are not supposed to use my own words against me."

"Go put some panties on, before I raise your skirt and find out what's not underneath there."

Delicious smiled at me, as the three women escorted her to the dressing room.

The sign on the front door stated they closed at 7 PM. The staff loaded the back seat and the trunk of the car with all our purchases at 8:45 PM. The storeowner smiled as he swiped my American Express card, and it was approved for $19,640.83. They did not have the calfskin coat.

Delicious said, "I could have bought a car for that amount of money."

I replied, "Right now, I could eat a horse. I'm starving."

"Me too; let's get to the restaurant in a hurry. It's about to close."

We walked into the restaurant just in time. Delicious looked at the menu with eyes so wide I thought they were going to pop out of her head.