End of Old Post:

"But it still hurts. It was so unfair."

"Whoever told you that the world was fair?"

"You?"

"Not even when you were a child," Emily corrected gently. "What happened to him hurt us all, but, sweetheart, we can only help who or what is in our power to help. The crime is to not try, just like Drake Settler said in his letter. I hate to sound common, but really, your father wouldn't have wanted you to quit. He was your biggest supporter. I have never said that to you before, but it has been nine years."

"I know, and I promise I am going to try to get past it to tell my stories," Nancy agreed, her hazel eyes beginning to shine with the first faint ember of the fire of her youth. "Just be there for me if I fall."

"I always have been."

Begin New Post:

The next week passed by entirely too quickly for Nancy, and too slow for her impatient students. Each morning she woke, she could feel the approaching assembly stalking her like a great dark panther just waiting to pounce, but for the kids it was a welcome and much anticipated diversion. They were over excited and interrupted her constantly with Daredevil Girl questions.

"Is it true you were a real Daredevil Girl?"

"Are there really such things as witches?"

"Have you ever shot a werewolf with a silver bullet?"

"Have you ever seen a ghost?"

"What are goblins?"

"Do you have any pictures?"

On and on the questions came until Nancy finally put her foot down, and had the wood-shop class make her two wooden boxes with slits on the top. One box she put in her classroom and the other went right outside her door. She instructed any curious people to write down their questions and put them in either receptical. She would address as many as she could at the assembly. 

Since that time, Nancy was given a measure of relief, but was amused to see an almost constant stream of students and teachers outside her door shoving questions into the box. Once, she even thought she saw Victor Brewer walk quickly by and slip a note card in. She toyed with the idea of wrestling the lid off to view it ahead of time--afterall, she was only human wasn't she? But she resisted the urge since she had other things to think about--like what story would she tell first? There were so many to choose from, and she didn't want to frighten them on the first assembly, well at least not too much.

Each day, during whatever free time she had, she would make a set of notes outlining a particular tale or other. She would rehearse what she wanted to say, placing and replacing bits and pieces of the story. At the end of the day, she would wad the notes up and throw them away. The whole burden of telling enough to be interesting, without telling too much to frighten, or worse yet, encourage them, was becoming almost unbearable. She was starting to get nervous and jittery, causing her insides to ball up.

Finally, thank goodness for Nancy, the morning of the assembly dawned clear and cool. The poor thing hadn't slept much to speak of all the night before. The few times she did manage to doze off, images of the past came flooding back. Even worse than that, were the times that fears of the future crept in. By about five am, she gave up and sat up in bed to make another set of notes. Just as she was beginning to make headway, the alarm rang, prompting her to jump and let out a small scream. Why had she forgotten to turn the dang thing off?

Rubbing her eyes, Nancy looked on the floor at a sizable pile of paper wads where she had discarded ideas. In her hand was a single note card with a few words jotted down. She took a deep ragged breath and swung her legs on the side of the bed.

"Oh well," she said, standing up and petting her cat Precious on the head, "guess this is going to have to be it."

Precious was an overweight orange tabby with more personality than brains. He was sweet and affectionate for a cat, and, currently, the only man in her life. Precious purred lazily in response to his mistress' touch. He was not sure why she had kept him awake all night tossing, turning and flipping the light off and on, but he was exhausted. It was going to take him half the morning to rest up.

Nancy rose slowly to her feet and began to get ready for work. Her stomach was still so tight from nerves that she knew breakfast just was not going to happen this morning. She fed her leftover eggs, which was really all of them, to Precious who gobbled them greedily. Whatever was bothering Nancy was sure not bothering him, and eggs were not something to waste in his book.

"You need to go on a diet," Nancy said, ruffling his fur with her foot.

Precious looked up with egg still stuck to his whiskers and grunted in response. He thought for a minute about biting her toe, then changed his mind and began to lick the bowl the eggs had been in instead. He would wait until later when she wasn't looking and attack her ankles. There was nothing he loved more than ambush.

Nancy hurriedly finished getting ready and was soon out of the door and on the road, unattacked, it seemed, by Precious who decided he was too tired to fulfill his plan. She still held the note card in her hand as though clutching a security blanket, hoping she wouldn't change her mind again before her story began.

As she pulled into the teacher's parking lot, a full thirty minutes earlier than usual, she was surprised to find a throng of people gathered in front of the school. There was a banner across the front that welcomed the Daredevil Girls of Bunker Hill. It had a burgundy background and pink letters, the official Daredevil Girl colors.

There were, also, reporters from three major news stations and several Dallas and Fort Worth newspapers crowded around the front door, barely leaving enough room for employees to squeeze through. Some didn't make it by at all, and were stopped and barraged with questions. Nancy thought, sarcastically, that she was sure glad the press Mrs. Pierson had asked to attend was only one local newspaper, because she was afraid of what the crowd would have looked like with everyone invited. 

With a deep shudder, Nancy got her sunglasses out of her purse and put them on discreetly. She pulled the hood from her jacket over her head, slinking down like the kids in her seat. How she wanted to just sit there until the crowd disappeared, or, better yet, drive back off and call in sick, but decided to be good and brave. She was, afterall, a Daredevil Girl, right? She waited until there were several teachers going through and slipped in with them unnoticed. As she scampered past the mob, she could hear the voice of Coach Victor Brewer.

"Well yes," he said in a deep sexy voice that always sent a chill down Nancy's spine," I guess you could say Nancy Jordan and I are friends. What, more than friends? I don't know, well, maybe. Sure, I think she is pretty. Could you please let me by now?"

Nancy rolled her eyes as she walked quickly away. It wouldn't take long for that bit of information to spread around school. But, hey, Victor Brewer had said that they might be more than friends, and that she was pretty. Her day just got better by nuclear proportions. As a group of reporters burst through the front door, Nancy scampered for the safety of her classroom.

"Not in there." She heard a rather loud whisper. "There are reporters waiting to trap you--they slipped past Mrs. Pierson. Come in here, it's reporter free."

Nancy looked quickly around and found the source of the voice. It was her student, Tina Alice, and she was motioning to an empty classroom close to her own. She slipped quickly inside and closed the door. There, in the otherwise empty classroom, were three more of her students sitting on top of desks and looking terribly secretive. Each had on a maroon T-shirt with the words "Daredevil Girl Supporter" emblazoned in bold pink letters. Nancy sighed deeply. It had begun. But, like her mother had said, did she really have the right to stop it?