Samantha's Talent (16 page)

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Authors: Darrell Bain,Robyn Pass

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Samantha's Talent
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This was different, though. He read rapidly though Judge Simonson's restraining order against CPS until his eye caught the name of Meriweather.
Even better
, he thought. That publicity-hungry old biddy was a blot on the CPS but like many other civil service bureaucratic positions, it was hard to dismiss her unless she actually broke the law and so far, she hadn't. He thought for a moment and then, just as Jennie had, he believed there must be much more to the young girl's activities that hadn't been discovered yet. He wanted to try digging them out himself but he knew he didn't have time. First, he needed to research the history of clashes in the courtroom between Meriweather and Orleans that she lost far more often than she won, then write this piece about the restraining order. He could supplement it with background material on Meriweather, but leave out the factor of how overly ambitious she was in case he needed her later. He could work with her if it would produce more articles he could place, despite not liking the woman. At the same time he knew a television reporter and an internet news source he could sell this information to, or maybe just trade it for a future favor. After all, the TV and big city internet reporters had much deeper pockets than he did, resources that would be needed to find out more about the girl. Whistling to himself, he began to type.

***

"Oh, damn!" Ronald said as dropped the newspaper he had started to read by the side of his breakfast plate.

"What is it, dear?" his wife asked but she was already preparing herself for bad news concerning their daughter.

"The judge's restraining order just went public. That's going to set off another storm of publicity," he said helplessly, knowing what his wife's reaction would be.

Surprisingly, Elaine controlled her first impulse to either burst into tears or begin haranguing her husband for supporting their daughter in her fantasy of being able to talk to animals. Instead, she tried to meet this latest setback of their desire to avoid publicity more calmly. Her attitude was the result of becoming more and more doubtful of her previous belief that Samantha simply had a "way" with animals, perhaps a more enhanced version of the popular "horse whisperers" or "dog whisperers". That type of person claimed to be much more in tune with those species than the normal run of humanity. On the other hand, none of them had an understanding of their chosen animals that even approached Sammie's rapport with almost
all
mammals. She was grudgingly beginning to believe that perhaps Samantha actually
could
talk to animals. It was certain she couldn't offer a better explanation, she thought, despite how often she derided Sammie's talent as simply a "way" with animals. No, it had to be more than that.

"I suppose we'd better prepare ourselves for another influx of busybodies and reporters, then, shouldn't we?" she said quietly.

Her husband was surprised she wasn't more upset but he was grateful she was taking this latest publicity so much more calmly than she had before. "Yes, we should. However, even as irritating and intrusive as those people are, I'm beginning to worry more about the real left-handed wing-nuts out there and what some of them might do."

Elaine looked at her husband, knowing what he meant. They had been the recipients of a number of bizarre letters and mean-spirited intruders into their social media pages on the internet, but there had been only a rare threat to do Samantha physical harm. All those had been tracked down by police or other investigators and discounted as missives from poor harmless mentally ill persons. Despite endless threats against those in the public eye they had never attempted harm to anyone. "Do you think it's a real danger, Ron?"

"I'm afraid so, honey. And I guess I should confess that I've concealed a few of the more evil-sounding ones from you and Sammie just to keep you from worrying and because they weren't real threats. Now, though, Steve tells me that he's seen this kind of thing before and that we should be wary of several kinds of whackos."

"What kind?"

"Well, how about some the far-out fundamentalist religious interpretations of what Sammie can do? Talk to animals? She's obviously the reincarnation of Eve. Or how about an opposite interpretation? She's abrogating God's powers for herself, or at least the powers Adam and Eve had before being banished from the Garden of Eden, obviously a horrendously evil sin."

"Ron, surely no one from our church would go that far, would they?"

"I doubt it. We've met most of them at one time or another and they seem to be the usual mix of regular, faithful church-goers, the Christmas and Easter variety and those in between. Whatever, I haven't seen or heard any signs of fanaticism in either direction from there. In fact, everyone I've spoken to has been very supportive, even if a bit nosy on occasion. But that's not the only worry."

Elaine sighed but nevertheless looked grimly determined to face whatever might come. "Who else might threaten Sammie?"

"How about kidnappers? Some really mean people might think they could take her and make money from her somehow. Someone like an evil, unscrupulous carny in a traveling fair, for instance. That's probably not very likely but there are probably terrorists who think she might be able to talk to animals and have them infiltrate places with dynamite strapped to them and blow themselves up. She'd be very valuable to those crazy bastards. Or consider our own beloved NSA. They didn't think twice about tapping into the phones and email of everyone in the country. I wouldn't put it past some of those black operations to want her for their own purposes, maybe to study her and try to find out how she does it so they could use the talent in warfare. See?"

"Lord, I could have gone all day without hearing that kind of stuff. But what do we do about it?"

"I don't know yet. A lot depends on what kind of legs this latest story about Sammie has." He picked up the newspaper beside his unfinished breakfast and thumped it with his hand. "Listen to this."
There is no question that the Douglas girl was observed walking along beside the tiger that had escaped from the zoo, nor of her participation in the tiger's treatment for an infected tooth. Both of those activities, according to Jesha Meriweather of the Child Protective Services, exposed her to the extreme danger of a possible attack by the huge carnivore. There is also no denying that Dr. Dorothy Summers, the zoo veterinarian also brought an ill lemur into the Douglas household and asked the girl for help in treating it, thereby exposing the girl to the possibility of contacting whatever illness was afflicting the lemur. However, both her attorney, Steve Orleans, and the veterinarian state that she was in no danger whatsoever, and that even if she had been her dog would have protected her, with its life if necessary.

Those are the known instances where Samantha Douglas was placed in potentially dangerous situations by her parents. Meriweather attempted to investigate the Douglas home but was stopped by a restraining order issued by Judge Simonson, a questionable decision in our humble opinion. We can only speculate as to what other episodes in Samantha's life may have exposed her to injury--or worse--while her parents were present. There are rumors of other contacts with dangerous animals in the past. Whether these are true or not and whether Judge Simonson was justified in blocking the CPS investigation can only be determined through further investigation.

The Douglas attorney has stated that he has had personal contact with the young girl in his own home where she, as he says, "Was instrumental in completely reversing his daughter's dog's unacceptable behavior in only a week." He has also stated that Samantha is, in his words, "One of the most well-adjusted girls of her age he has ever seen and that her parents would never knowingly place her in a situation where she might be injured." Readers might note that Mr. Orleans is completely unqualified to judge whether anyone, much less a young girl, is well-adjusted or not.

The CPS Office in both Lufkin and Austin refused to comment on the case but Ms. Meriweather has previously stated that... .
"Well, you get the idea, I'm sure. The smarmy guy that wrote this piece is simply trying to make some money off Sammie's adventures. I suppose he's convinced himself that he's doing a public service by having this stuff published but I hate to give him even that much credit. If anything,
he's
the one putting Sammie in danger!"

"I wonder if we could ask Steve to talk to him. Or maybe we should."

"We can try, I guess. I think Steve would be the best bet, though. In the meantime I hear Sammie getting ready to come down for breakfast. Fortunately this is a Saturday but we still need to caution her again not to talk to anyone about this, and especially never speak to anyone she doesn't know."

"Or that Shufus doesn't trust. I swear, I think that dog would smell out anyone having evil intentions against her. Getting him was one of the wisest things we've ever done."

"I agree. Good morning, Sammie. We were wondering if you intended to get up today," her father teased.

"Or have breakfast before lunch," her mother added.

"I'd never miss breakfast," Samantha returned. She was used to the parental banter and enjoyed it but she thought she saw a hint of trouble in their expressions this morning.

"Neither would Shufus, considering he knows he'll get anything we don't eat. Not that
you
ever leave him much," Ronald said with a grin.

"I always give him something," Samantha said. "Don't I always give you a treat at breakfast, Shufus?" she addressed the big German Shepherd.

He nodded his head enthusiastically and her mother had to smile.
I think that dog really does understand every word she says to him,
she thought.

Then Samantha saw the newspaper, still folded to expose the article by Thomas Hoover. She looked questionably at both parents and her face fell. "Is this going to cause more problems?"

"Probably, but don't worry about it, baby," her mother said. "Just remember the rules. Don't talk to anyone about what this... this smarmy reporter wrote and don't tell anyone you can talk to animals."

Samantha's eyes opened wide in astonishment that her mother hadn't stated that she only "thought" she could talk to animals. She had said she
did
talk to them! "Mom! Have you changed your mind about me really talking to animals?"

"I just don't know any more, Sammie. Maybe you really can. It's hard to believe you can't, not after all the things I've seen you do with animals, especially the big ferocious ones like bears and tigers."

"They aren't really ferocious unless they're killing for food or protecting their babies, Mom. And once I tell them I won't hurt them they like and trust me. Honest!"

Her mother had to smile at the thought of her diminutive daughter telling a grizzly bear or a tiger that
she
wouldn't hurt
them
. Apparently that's what she did, though. Somehow.

Seeing her smile Samantha got up and came around the table to where she was sitting and hugged her and then kissed her on the cheek. "You and Dad have been so good to me over my talent, Mom. Thank you. And thank you, Dad."

She had tears in her eyes and both parents brushed at the wetness in their own. Perhaps the morning wasn't going to be that bad after all.

Chapter Twelve

Steve Orleans did agree to confront Thomas Hoover, the reporter of the latest story about Samantha. After calling him and insisting that they should meet, they agreed upon a bar and grill suggested by Hoover. The meeting was set for the following evening.

Upon arriving, Hoover stood up to greet the attorney, recognizing him from a photo in the
Chronicle's
files. Steve thought he looked slightly apprehensive in the less than brilliant lighting of the corner booth he'd chosen as the two men shook hands perfunctorily.

"Now, Mr. Orleans, what can I do for you?" Hoover asked, getting right down to business.

Steve held up his hand as a waitress approached to take his order. Hoover was already working on a glass and drained it by the time she arrived. "I'll another of the same and give my friend here whatever he wants."

"Scotch and soda rocks, please."

The two men said nothing until she returned with the drinks but each eyed the other warily.

Steve took a sip of scotch and set the glass down. "You wanted to know what you can do for me so I'll make it real simple for you, Mr. Hoover. I understand perfectly about freedom of the press but as an attorney, I'm also familiar with a number of laws that are sometimes pertinent to that freedom, especially when writing about juveniles. I believe a couple of them may be applicable in your case."

"Look, I can write whatever I like and so long as a reputable newspaper publishes it, I doubt that I can be sued. You should know the
Chronicle
has attorneys for cases where journalists are threatened."

"Who said anything about a threat? I'm simply informing you that your article was slanted enough to cast aspersions on Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Douglas' performance as parents, which could very likely approach the legal basis for slander. And as I said, there are laws pertaining to what might be written about minors, which I'm still researching. And finally, in your reference concerning my competence in judging whether or not Samantha is well-adjusted, you may be interested in knowing that I received a degree in Psychology and a minor in Journalism before going to law school. Comments?"

Hoover's confrontational expression had gradually faded as Steve spoke. By the time he finished, the sloppily-dressed reporter was looking decidedly less belligerent. In fact, his mouth was hanging slightly open and dragging at his ragged mustache. Suddenly realizing this, he got it closed enough to ask, "Just what are you after, Mr. Orleans?"

"I'll leave that for you to guess. Suffice to say that I, as well as the Douglas family, would be very appreciative if you decided not to write anything else concerning their daughter unless it is a bona fide news story and not some piece of junk you managed to slip by the
Chronicle's
editor. Do you think you could manage that?"

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