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"You're a very hard woman to find, Miss Crowder," Detective Kowalski said as he surveyed the inside of my house.

I walked into the kitchen area and opened the refrigerator. As I took out a carton of  orange juice, I repeated my original demand. "Please get out of my house."

"Can't do that, Miss Crowder," Detective Kowalski said, walking into the kitchen. He then removed a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. "This is an authorized warrant to search this home."

Not every aspect of being a woman was enjoyable and on Thursday afternoon I got my first taste of what being a total woman meant. My menses arrived, something I hadn't thought of except for briefly in my time as Jeanette. When going to Albertson's on Wednesday morning with Lee, I had bought some sanitary napkins. Before the Shift, the real Jeanette had made out a grocery list and had included this item. I was soon glad I had bought them.

I'd just have to grin and bear this one aspect of womanhood. My menses made me moody and the cramps for the first twenty-four hours weren't fun at all. I guess there was some payback involved with my new chance at life.

Tracy never made further comment on my unplanned commentary. According to Deb Richard the station had actually gotten over one hundred callers who agreed with my comments and thanked me for saying so. Ed Rowland complimented me for saying what I did. He said it was both right and very brave of me.

Life was now getting to be a series of routines, and with each day I was getting more comfortable in my new life. I liked my work and of course my friendship with Lee. On Thursday we learned that we would both be working that coming weekend, so any bigger plans would have to be put off till later in August. Lee and I were sympathetic to each other's situation, and knew we'd get more time later on in August. Till then we'd enjoy the time we had. Lee was quite the kisser and enjoyed our brief tastes of each other.

As he had every night since Sunday, Lee gave me an escort home. He even came inside for some Rocky Road ice cream before he left.

I was just sitting down for breakfast on Friday morning when the front doorbell rang. Putting my fork down, I went to see who it was. I wasn't expecting anyone that morning.

Taking a look out the door's peephole I saw an odd looking, short and rotund man. I had never seen this person before in my life. "Who is it?"

The man didn't say anything at first. Instead he took his wallet out and displayed some kind of police badge first. "I'm Detective Stanley Kowalski, Ms. Crowder. May I come in for a minute?"

I was still clueless as to why this man or detective was here. Seeing he was from the police, I decided to trust him. I then opened the front door and let the man in. Closer examination showed the detective to be almost a poor man's Danny Devito with a bad case of acne thrown in. Not a very pleasant looking man. I'd soon find out he had a personality to match.

"What brings you here, Detective Kowalski?" I asked once the man was in the front foyer of my home. "You aren't looking for someone named Blanche are you?"

"Ha, Ha, very funny," the detective said, not sounding amused by my 'A Streetcar Named Desire' joke. I guess the man had heard it a few hundred times in his life. "I just have some questions to ask you."

"Do you mind if I answer them while eating breakfast?" I asked as I walked back to the kitchen with the detective following me close behind. "I will be leaving for work shortly."

Detective Kowalski didn't answer my question. He seemed to be surveying my house. "Nice home."

"Thank you," I said as I began to eat my meal. I'd always hated interruptions while eating.

"I'm surprised you don't remember me from the funeral."

"Well, I had other things on my mind that day. Who do you work for again?"

"Benton County sheriff's department," Detective Kowalski said as he studied the kitchen.

"Okay, I had forgotten."

Detective Kowalski took a small notepad out of his back pocket and a pen from his shirt pocket. "You didn't have time for me that day. So I am here now and I've got a few questions to ask."

This guy was really giving me the creeps for some reason I couldn't put my finger on. I wished he would just disappear but said nothing instead. "Sure, go ahead."

"Where were you the evening of July 14th and the morning of July 15th?"

I had to think for a few seconds but the answer came to me soon enough. "At my work, I was the weekend news anchor at WHO."

"Yes, I know that. What time did you work on the 14th?"

Again I had to think. "About two p.m. to eleven thirty."

Detective Kowalski jotted down the answer like he would to all the questions he asked me that morning. "You get off at eleven thirty every evening you work?"

"Usually," I said after swallowing my last bit of toast. There was still some of the Cheerios left I was having for breakfast. "I'm usually out of the building by eleven forty-five or midnight worst."

"You go right home afterwards?"

"Yes, I do."

"Anyone see you that particular evening?"

It was good I was almost done with breakfast, for right then I began to lose my appetite. Getting up out of my seat, I took my bowl and plate to the sink. "No, I don't think so. That was the night my parents died. Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Just routine."

'Sure,' I thought as I washed the bowl and plate and then put them in the sink rack to dry. This line of questions was becoming nerve-wracking. Was or wasn't the death of Jeanette Crowder's parents an accident? "Didn't my parents die in the fire?"

"Yes, Ms. Crowder, they did."

"So why are you asking me these questions?"

Detective Kowalski's strong suit wasn't subtlety, that's for sure. "You may know that answer."

Now I was beginning to get scared. "Are you implying something, Detective?"

The man was turning obtuse with his answers, "Only if you think so, Miss Crowder."

I looked at the kitchen wall clock. It was few minutes past ten o'clock. My workday at WHO began at eleven and it only took twenty minutes to get into the office but today was different, as promised payroll had been distributed the day before. I would need to stop at West Bank on the way in to the studio.

That and my needing to use the bathroom quickly before leaving gave me an excuse to end the interview. "Detective, I'm a busy woman. I have to get to work in less than an hour. I really need you to leave, NOW."

Detective Kowalski started barraging me with questions. Rather than answer them, I walked to the front door and opened it. "You may leave now."

The Danny Devito look-alike did as I asked but had one parting shot on his way out the door. "If you don't answer me right now, Miss Crowder, that's fine with me. But I will be back, and by the way, this is a murder investigation. We have strong reason to believe the fire was deliberately set."

A minute later I was upstairs and in Jeanette Crowder's bedroom. I needed to pee and brush my teeth before leaving for the office. Instead I sat down on the edge of the king-size bed that dominated room. As soon as I did I began trembling from head to toe.

"What have I gotten myself into, and what do I do now?"

My drive in to work that day was a nerve-wracking one. So much so that I nervously chain smoked in the car as I drove. I hadn't smoked while driving since Monday. Cigarettes or nicotine appeared to be the only thing to calm me.

I was soon going to face an important decision. Forge on as Jeanette and risk the police, or go back to Paul Hanratty's wreck of a life? As if I had a choice. Neither looked very palatable at the moment and that's what was scaring me.

On the way in to WHO, I stopped at the bank and cashed Jeanette Crowder's paycheck. I was definitely in need of cash whatever my decision was.

Once in the office I tried to act normal and put on a happy face. Would Detective Kowalski come here and start asking questions? If that pest of a policeman did, it wouldn't help my job status in the least.

Lee kept entering my thoughts. I enjoyed his company, his kisses and even began fantasizing about the man. But the man thought I was Jeanette Crowder, not Paul Hanratty. I couldn't confide in him, for I was certain our relationship would be over. I'd been untruthful and deceptive to him. Not the qualities a man looked for in a girlfriend or wife. That's if he wasn't upset in discovering I wasn't really a woman. Some guys may find that more than slightly upsetting.

The daily 2:30 news meeting kept my mind busy with other matters than my personal problems. Shortly after the meeting was over, Deb Richard approached me in the hallway. She was carrying a vase with what looked like a dozen roses in it.

"This came for you during the meeting," Deb said to me with a grin. "Looks like you've got an admirer."

I took the roses and went straight to my office. As soon as I was there, I took the card that came with the flowers and opened it. The message was short:

Jeanette,

For making me feel special.

Love, Lee

Tears came into my eyes on reading the short note. I was so confused. The word Love had struck me, a man loved me. The roses were a message themselves, that Lee had sincere feelings for me. I was only admitting now, I loved him too. This would only complicate the decision I would soon make.

Later that evening Lee called to tell me he would next be off on Monday. He gave me the choice of dinner out or a home-cooked meal. I chose the latter, and after a few questions my boyfriend promised me a New York strip steak, plus potato and vegetable for dinner that night. Sounding delicious, I agreed to the menu, leaving one unanswered personal question.

Would I be there?

*****

Even before Detective Kowalski's interview of me, I had chosen Saturday morning August 4th to go back to Paul Hanratty's apartment. All I intended to do was remove a few items from the apartment. I wasn't planning to stay long there.

Dressed in pants and a T-shirt and wearing dark sunglasses, I parked my BMW in the Urbandale apartment house parking lot. It was 9:30 a.m. on a weekend morning and few people were around. That was good, I didn't want anyone seeing or recognizing me when I went in my old apartment.

Nothing had changed in the apartment during my week away, except for the phone answering machine. There were seventeen messages on it. I didn't play back any of the recordings.

My main purpose was to collect some items from Paul Hanratty's life that I wished to keep. Almost all of these were books; I was an avid book reader. As to personal mementos, I left these behind. I'd miss many of them; I'd had my picture taken with two Presidents, five governors and three dozen celebrities at least. These photos littered the apartment walls or were in a box in the bedroom closet. I'd be leaving these behind. There was nowhere for them in Jeanette Crowder's life.

Was I to continue on as Jeanette? I hadn't made a decision yet. Looking around the apartment I saw little in Paul Hanratty's life that was appealing enough to go back to.

I had placed everything I wanted in a box and was about to leave the apartment when an idea popped into my head. Going back to where the phone was in my bedroom, I picked up the old personal address and telephone book. There was a phone number there I wanted. Taking a pen and piece of paper out of my purse, I wrote down the two phone numbers I wanted. Then I picked up the box full of books and left the apartment.

The next day at 10:30 a.m. I put in a phone call to one of the two numbers I had written down the day before. As the phone began to ring, I sincerely hoped the person I was calling would be home.

"Hello," said a female voice that I'd heard many times before.

"Can I talk to Dan Billingsley?

"This is she. To whom am I speaking?"

"Dan," I said as I nervously paced the downstairs living room. "This is Paul Hanratty."

Daniel 'Dan' Billingsley was Executive News Producer at KSVI channel 6 in Billings, Montana. Fifteen years earlier and with my only credentials in life being my graduation from Annapolis and six years in the Marine Corps, Dan had given me my first television news job as a reporter for the ABC affiliate in Montana's biggest city.

Even though I left KSVI in 1988 for a job in Cheyenne, I had parted KSVI on very good terms, even staying in touch over the years with my former boss. You see, outside of work we enjoyed fishing and hunting together. In addition, his wife Meredith, whom Dan had obviously shifted with, had introduced me to my wife Donna.

After my firing in Las Vegas I nearly returned to KSVI. Hearing of my firing and personal problems, Dan had offered me a weekday morning anchor job at the station. I nearly took it before deciding on WHO. The only reason I hadn't gone back to Billings was it seemed like a desperate retreat to me.  It would feel too much like I was back at the bottom career-wise.

Now reeling from what I learned about Jeanette Crowder, I may have no choice but KSVI. I just prayed this fallback was still available.

"Paul!" Dan said in the high-pitched voice of his wife. "You got a sex change too, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, Paul, I did."

"You sound young. Are you?"

"Yes, and pretty, Dan."

"Shit, just your luck; I got to be Meredith. So how's it like?"

"I've got my period now, so I wouldn't call it all peaches and cream."

"Sure wouldn't if I were you. So, why are you calling?"

I hesitated for a few seconds before speaking. Dan and I were close, if I told him something in confidentiality, he would not tell it to anyone. "Dan, I was wondering if you still had a position for me up there."

Now Dan became silent. "Are you having problems at WHO?"

"You could say that."

"Want to tell me about it?" she asked. I proceeded to give my friend and former boss a rundown of recent events. The only thing I left out were the details about the real Jeanette's parents and Detective Kowalski.

"Everyone at the station thinks you're the real Jeanette?" Dan asked.

"Yes, but I've got the feeling that won't last for much longer."

"I wouldn't think someone could pull off an impersonation like that for long without being caught," Dan commented before becoming quiet for about a minute. "Paul, I've got to ask you a few things."

"Go ahead."

"Appearance wise, what do you look like?" Dan asked. It was a fair question, television news executives weren't known for hiring people who looked like a sumo wrestler.

I told Dan, though I sense I wasn't doing justice to the looks I had inherited. "If you want, Dan, you can go to WHO's website and check it out. Jeanette's photo is there."

"I'll do that, Paul, but it will have to wait till later. My home computer is out of commission due to some virus."

"Okay, I understand," I said before asking the big question. "Dan, do you think you have a job up there for me? I don't care what kind of reporting it is, I'll start at the bottom if I have to."

Dan didn't even hesitate before answering. "Yes, Paul, I do. We've lost some personnel up here, and there are a few I wouldn't mind if they stayed lost."

"Thanks, Dan, you're really a pal. Is there any deadline for me as to when I'd have to come up there?"

Dan hesitated for a half a minute. "Paul, I will have to check a few things out first."

"I understand," was my reply. I knew Dan well enough to know he wouldn't offer me a job unless one was really going to be available. His job did however require him to go through some formalities.

"It will take me only a day or two, Wednesday at the very worst, Paul. Do you still have the same email?"

"Yes, I do. Is yours still the same?"

"Yeah, it is. I'll contact you in a few days."

"Thanks, Dan," I answered, being grateful to have this alternative if needed. My friend and I talked about non-work matters for almost another ten minutes. One topic that came up was my ex, Donna. She had been in contact with Meredith and according to Dan was still a woman, about the same age and now living in Reno, Nevada. I asked my friend not to share any details about me post-Shift with Donna or anyone else. Dan promised she would not.

Eventually my talk with Dan was interrupted by the sound of my front doorbell. "Dan, I've got somebody coming to the house this morning. Good talking to you...I look forward to your email...Bye, for now."

After hanging up, I hurried downstairs to answer the door. But before getting there, I checked my appearance one last time in a hall mirror. Satisfied with my looks, I went and unlocked the door.

"Hi, beautiful," Lee said as he greeted me. I didn't even say hello back, instead I allowed my boyfriend to give me a long kiss. When we were done, he spoke again, "Ready to go out and have some breakfast?"

"Absolutely, let me go grab my purse." I did just that and a minute later Lee and I were outside the house walking to his car while we held hands.

"Is IHOP all right for breakfast?" Lee asked as he opened the car door for me. He was referring to the breakfast restaurant chain known as IHOP, or International House of Pancakes.

"Sounds good to me," I told Lee, who then climbed in on the driver's side. A moment later we were on our way to Sunday breakfast.

I had a pleasant breakfast with Lee on Sunday morning even if many troubling matters were on my mind. If I abandoned life as Jeanette Crowder, I would deeply miss him. Truthfully that was all that was holding me back at the moment.

On Monday I got some very good news from two sources. First, Tracy informed me that effective the next day Christine Hampton would be doing the noontime weekday news at WHO. I would continue doing the 5:30 pm, 6 pm with Ed Rowland as my co-anchor, and 11 p.m.

Also, Christine would do anchoring duties on the weekends on an every other week basis. This further cut back on my duties, but I was salary not an hourly employee. Plus weekday anchors rarely did weekends in most television markets.

The other piece of good news came in an email from Dan Billingsley:

Paul: You are an absolute hottie. I wish I was twenty-five and male again. LOL, I am just joking. As promised I did my checking, there is a job here at KSVI for you. Just either arrive in Billings by the first week in September or let me know by email. Hope to see you soon.

Dan

That evening Lee picked me for dinner. We rode back to his apartment in East Des Moines. I wouldn't need to be back at WHO till 9:30. On the way over he asked how my day was, I told him I got two marriage proposals in my mail that weekend. That certainly produced a good chuckle out of my boyfriend who couldn't believe people really did that.

Des Moines had almost returned to normal by now. More and more businesses were reopening. People had bills to pay and needed to work. On a personal note I had a large supply of clothes in need of dry cleaning. These I brought to Capitol Dry Cleaners, which had only reopened for business that Monday.

I got my first glance of Lee's apartment, it was very neat and not like bachelor pads seen in television or movie comedies. It was a two bedroom, one bathroom unit with a with a medium sized living room and a small compact kitchen.

"Very nice," I told Lee as I walked around the apartment. The main feature of the living room was a big screen television. There were some sport trophies or plaques either on shelves or hanging from the wall. One item in the living room caught my attention. "Oh, you iron besides cook."

Lee laughed as he prepared our dinner. "Cook, iron, clean, a little of everything."

"But do you do windows?"

Another loud laugh could be heard from the kitchen, "Yes, even windows."

"I'd better marry you before some lucky woman gets you first," I said back, but didn't get a reply. Looking around the apartment I also noticed books and a DVD collection. Lee apparently liked reading books about history or thriller/suspense novels. Overall I was impressed with my boyfriend's apartment; it was much neater than the one Paul Hanratty had lived in.

About thirty minutes after arriving at the apartment, dinner was served. A New York strip steak cooked medium, a baked potato and a small salad. To drink, Lee poured us both a glass of red wine. For atmosphere he lit two candles and turned off the kitchen lights. My
very first candlelight dinner, I had never done this even with Donna.

Before dinner started Lee raised his glass, "To the nicest and most beautiful woman I know. I am one lucky man." I was still blushing as we clinked our glasses together. Lee had really put me on a pedestal and I was enjoying the view.

As I was chewing my first slice of steak, Lee spoke up, "How is it?"

"It's delicious," I replied right after I swallowed. The steak was cooked to perfection and was very tasty.

Lee smiled back. "I'm glad you like it. I got these at Arnie's butcher shop. They have the best steaks."

"It takes a good cook, too," I told Lee and instantly got another smile. "You know how to cook other meals?"

He nodded, "Italian, Chicken, Weiner Schnitzel..."

"I like Weiner Schnitzel."

"Well, I could make that next time you come over."

"I got some news today," I told Lee as I took a sip of wine. "I'll have every other weekend off. Christine Hampton is going to do weekend anchoring at the station."

Lee looked pensive for a moment, then said, "I've got reserve training this weekend."

"I remember you telling me that."

"My next weekend off probably won't be till Labor Day then. "Like I told you, I'm  going down to Springfield to see my parents. I was hoping you'd come along with me."

Yes, I remembered Lee telling me this before. I just hadn't made up my mind if I was going to abandon my life as Jeanette and go to Montana. "Meet the parents then? Sure, I'm interested."

"You'll like them, I'm sure. I'll tell Mom and Dad I'm bringing someone."

The conversation that night was as good as dinner. Lee and I talked about ourselves, our likes and dislikes. A little politics, a little sports. All while fixated on one another. I had really fallen for Lee; but then, he was indeed a special man. One I doubt I could find quite like in anyone else.

After dinner was done, Lee served me chocolate ice cream for dessert. I indulged myself that night but knew I couldn't overdo the sweets if I wanted to keep a nice female figure.

"You have to be back to work by 9:30, right?" Lee asked.

"Yes. I get off at eleven-thirty like always. You're going to give me an escort home?

"Absolutely!"

"I just hope we both don't get picked up for violating the curfew," I quipped. Lee laughed immediately.

"Probably not, if we do I will flash my badge."

'Flash your badge?' I thought as I enjoyed a spoonful of ice cream. 'Wonder what your other equipment looks like.'

"I doubt the curfew will be in effect too much longer," Lee went on. "Too many businesses are losing money and there have been no disturbances in almost a week."

"Yes, I think it will end soon, too," I answered back only to have another back spasm hit me.

"Jeanette, are you all right? Is your back acting up again?"

"Yes, it's my back," I said as I winced from the pain.

"Want me to give you another massage?" Lee asked as he looked over at the clock. "We don't have to leave for over a half hour."

I took Lee up on his offer. Since there was more room there, my boyfriend would massage my back while I lie flat on my stomach on his bed. I was about to do just that when he made a suggestion.

"Jeanette, don't take what I am about to say wrong. But maybe you should take your blouse and bra off? It would be easier and better that way."

I pondered Lee's suggestion for a few moments. "Yes, I'll do that. Can I have a little privacy so I can undress?"

Lee kissed me on the forehead and told me to call when I was ready. As soon as my boyfriend was out of the room, I began unbuttoning my blouse. That day I was wearing a skirt and blouse. A dress just wouldn't have worked.

As soon as I was ready, Lee came back in the room and began the massage. I was lying flat on my stomach. It didn't take long for me to feel the effects of the massage he was giving me. The pain slowly began to ebb.

"Is this helping?" he asked.

"Very much, and thank you."

"You're welcome, Jeanette," Lee said as he continued with the massage. He began in the lower back and was slowly working upward. "I know someone at work who has this licensed masseuse who takes care of him. Even comes to his home. Want me to find out the name and number of this person?"

"Yes, Lee, I'd appreciate that."

"Jeanette, I want to ask you something. It's personal."

"Go ahead."

"Where did you get these bruises from? I'm a police officer, and I know these didn't come from any accident."

I didn't answer Lee's question. The simple reason was I didn't have the answer. Ever since I met that Detective Kowalski I began to feel troubled about what things I didn't know about the real Jeanette Crowder.

"Jeanette, I'm your friend. You can tell me. It will not change our relationship, I love you very much."

If I had an explanation for the bruises, I would have given it to Lee happily. I just didn't know. Plus I couldn't tell the man why I didn't know. Lee was sincere in his love for me, but I didn't feel confident enough to tell him my big secret.

"Lee, I'd like to tell you, but I can't."

"That's all right, Jeanette. If you change your mind I'll be there to listen," he said, bending down to whisper in my ear, "I love you."

"I love you, too." There, I said the words I never believed I would say to a man ever in my life.

"Your hair is beautiful, by the way."

"I was thinking of cutting it."

"Why?"

"It's so long, it's hard for me to take care of it. I mean, it's all the way down to my butt."

Lee laughed, "Nice hair to go with a nice rear."

"You're not peaking back there are you?" I teased.

"Nope, I just know it's nice," Lee said, bending down to kiss my forehead. His continuing massage was doing my back wonders. "Maybe just a trim, cut it back a few inches to make it easier."

Yes, that was definitely an alternative. A few minutes later Lee finished the massage and then left the room so I could dress myself again. When I was done, I left the bedroom and shortly afterwards Lee drove me back to work.

Later that evening on the way home from work, I made my decision. I'd continue on as Jeanette Crowder. This decision was based on two things. One, that Lee and I loved one another and I didn't want to lose this man. If I ran away from my life here, my relationship with Lee would end. I was almost certain I'd found a man in Lee I could be happy with. Time eventually would confirm this.

Two, I felt running from Jeanette's problems wouldn't solve anything. If the police suspected me of murder, they would pursue me no matter where I ran. Why run? I didn't commit these crimes, if they even were crimes. Didn't the police originally say it was an accident?

If the police were serious, I would confess that I wasn't the real Jeanette to save my hide. This would have consequences, but a lot less than if I was convicted of crimes I didn't commit. I could even lose Lee if I had to out myself, but if there was no other choice I'd do it.

I made my bed and I would sleep in it.

In the weeks leading up to Labor Day, I grew to believe I had made the right decision. Nothing more was heard from Detective Kowalski. According to the Cedar Rapids Gazette an investigation was ongoing, but authorities weren't talking.

I tried hard to push this worry out of my mind by concentrating on my professional and personal lives. Little was going wrong there. Lee and I continued to see one another every opportunity we had. As promised Lee had me for dinner and cooked me Wiener Schnitzel. It was delicious, and I was slowly realizing my boyfriend was a good cook.

My relationship with Lee was becoming stronger with each day, my love for him growing. I felt happiest when with him, and he made me feel happy to be a woman. I really didn't miss being a man at all.

One August Monday I visited a mall. While there I saw a book I thought Lee would like, so I purchased it. Two nights later I gave my boyfriend a surprise gift. Lee was happy with this small token of my love; it was the least I could do. He had been so kind to me since the day we met.

There was one troubling discovery I made about ten days before leaving for Springfield. Jeanette had a large DVD collection, some of which were kept on the bedroom dresser. I hadn't paid any attention to these items till then, the movies were Chinese or Japanese and I couldn't read the writing on the boxes.

One night before going to bed I decided to test one of these DVDs. Still being wound up from work, I decided to watch the DVD left in the player from before the shift. The movie was in Chinese but had English subtitles. The plot looked to be about two very pretty even gorgeous women in their early twenties who were good friends.

It wasn't ten minutes into the movie, when the film took an unexpected turn. The two friends were also lovers and began making out. I hit the fast forward button and it took only a few seconds to discover this was a lesbian porn DVD. I immediately turned off the DVD player. Later on I would discover all nine DVD's on Jeanette's dresser were the same type of entertainment.

The longer I looked, the more bizarre I discovered the real Jeanette's life to be. She appeared to have had little or no friends, even my neighbors rarely acknowledged me. Instead the woman had her toy and now this video collection. I guess that was what she did in her spare time. It just wasn't me and I sometimes wondered what else I would discover in the days ahead. How many secrets did this woman have?

Two days before leaving for Springfield I took the DVDs and the 'toy' and put them out with the garbage. These things would have no part in my life.

Talking about DVDs, one night after we both got off from work, I stayed up late with Lee watching a movie. The film was The Guyver, a Sci-Fi favorite of my boyfriend. I liked that genre of movies, but didn't find the comic book characters and adventure very interesting.

The one thing of note was Lee saying how I looked very similar to but prettier than the female lead in the movie, played by actress Vivian Wu. There was in a fact a resemblance between me and the Chinese born actress. I teased my boyfriend for a week afterwards that this movie was why he had such a crush on me.  

I did have dinner in late August with Ed Rowland as repayment for my tardiness back in July. We had an excellent Italian dinner at Gieuseppe's, one of Des Moines' finest restaurants. As promised, the evening was just a meeting of the minds with my co-anchor. I also think Ed, like many men, liked to be seen publicly in the company of what he considered a beautiful woman. It's a male ego thing.

That evening Ed and I had a pleasant chat over dinner. My fellow anchorman liked to reminisce about his years in television news. Many of his anecdotes were quite interesting. I had my share of these too, but since they had involved life as Paul Hanratty, I couldn't share them. Instead, Ed and I had some interesting philosophical discussions about the television news business.

At WHO, things continued to run smoothly. Even better than smooth, the 6 p.m. news Ed Rowland and I co-anchored reached number one in some informal ratings done at the end of August. I liked working with Ed, he was a true professional and we made a good team together. In addition, I began to get feelers from bigger market television stations. By late August I had heard from TV stations in Seattle and Los Angeles plus CNN and ABC News. Jeanette Crowder's career was definitely going places if I wanted it to.

Part of this may have been due to the coup I landed WHO. Seeing my late-night commentary that one night, Governor Vilsack offered to do a one on one interview with me. Not one of those soundbites most politicians do for television, but a sit-down thirty-minute interview of the Governor with me asking the questions. This was the first such interview the State's Chief Executive had done since the Shift.

This was done the afternoon of the second Monday in August, and the entire interview was broadcast un-edited on WHO the same evening. Most of the interview was about Iowa and the Shift and the state's plans to help its citizens in the aftermath of what had happened that July day.

After the interview was broadcast I received many congratulations from my colleagues at WHO. More important were the kudos and thumbs up I received from station management, particularly Tracy Jenkins. This certainly enhanced my career opportunities as Jeanette Crowder.

At this stage the only place I wanted to go was Springfield, Missouri. On September 1st Lee and I set off for his hometown. It was the first weekend we had both been off from our work together. It was time for me to meet the parents.

"Jeanette," Lee said as we made the turn onto the path that led to his parent's home. It was almost noontime on September 1st. Lee and I had left Des Moines at 5 a.m. that morning. I had slept most of the trip while my boyfriend drove. "You'll be fine, just be yourself. My family is going to love you."

'Boy I could use a cigarette right now,' I thought as we drew closer to the Crane home. Lee's parents actually lived in a rural area a bit north of Springfield. As the Crane house came into view, it looked like one of those old country or farm houses. Two-story with a detached garage, the home had had a long dirt path driveway. This had been where Lee had grown up as a youth. My first impression was that it had to have been a nice area to grow up in.

I was very nervous as Lee turned off the car's engine and got out of the car to open my door. The nervousness began as soon as I woke around 10:45 as we neared Springfield. It had increased threefold over the last hour. So much so that I asked Lee to stop at a McDonald's so I could use the ladies room. Yes, I had to pee, but I really needed to collect myself for the big day.  

Lee opened the car door for me and helped me out of the car. For the big day I was wearing a linen sleeveless sundress with yellow and blue flowers on it. My footwear was a pair of sandals. Lee gave me one last reassuring kiss before we walked hand in hand to the front door of the Crane family home.

We didn't quite make it there before our arrival was discovered. A woman in her early thirties that I guessed had to be Lee's sister Jan or Jan's partner Diane came out of the front door. On seeing Lee and I walking over, the woman called back into the house, "Lee and Jeanette are here, everyone."

At almost the same time a boy age five or six came from around the back of the house. After staring at me for a few seconds, the boy ran back in the direction he came calling. "Grandma, Uncle Lee is home and he has brought a girl!"

The still nameless woman came over and shared a sister-brother hug and kiss with Lee. Then my boyfriend set about introducing me to his family, "Jeanette, this is my sister Janet or you can her Jan. Jan, this is my girlfriend, Jeanette Crowder."

Jan gave me a sisterly kiss and hug to welcome me, "Nice to meet you, Jeanette. We have all heard so much about you."

By now most of Lee's family had come out of the house to greet me. First there was Dave Crane and his wife Maria, there was Jan's partner Diane, and not least Tom Crane and his wife Cathy. They all made me feel so welcome my nervousness at meeting Lee's family had almost entirely vanished.

We were about to go in the Crane family home when I asked Lee, "Where are your parents?"

"Mom is out back barbecuing and Dad is in the kitchen," Lee explained as he held the front door open for me. The Crane house had a screened patio in front. "I'm going to introduce you to Dad next."

In the post-Shift world identities tended to get confusing, so I asked Lee who he meant. "Is he Dad/Dad or Mom now Dad?"

"Mom now Dad," Lee explained to me. "Everyone took the name of the person they became after the Shift."

I nodded my head as I understood what Lee was telling me. Lee's parents and siblings had all swapped with their respective spouses. Taking the other's name definitely cut down on the confusion.

Mrs. Crane was in the kitchen as promised. She was putting the final touches on lunch for the day. Lee walked right up and gave his Mama a kiss. "Mom, I want you to meet someone special, this is Jeanette Crowder."

It was my turn then. Mr. Crane warmly hugged me and I knew instantly I was welcome in the home. "Jeanette, welcome to our home. I am so glad to have finally met you. Lee has told me so much about you."

I instantly recognized a glow coming from Mr. Crane. It was one a parent felt for his or her children, particularly when they felt happy for one of them. I felt Lee's father was happy her son had found me. "I'm glad to meet you too, Mr. Crane. Lee told me a lot about you,
too."

Lee, once in the kitchen had helped himself to some potato chips. "So when will we have lunch?"

"Very shortly, your mother just put food on the grill," Mr. Crane said. It looked to me as if lunch would be hamburgers, hot dogs, macaroni and potato salad and coleslaw.

I took this time to joke with Mr. Crane. Pointing back at Lee, I said, "He is always hungry."

Mr. Crane smiled as he confided to me, "Lee has always been that way since he was a little boy."

"Boys will be boys," I replied. Lee then came up to me from behind. If he was annoyed at my teasing, my friend didn't show it. Lee kissed me on the forehead as he massaged my shoulders.

"Did someone bring in your and Jeanette's bags?" Mr. Crane asked.

"Tom brought them in for us," Lee said before kissing me again. "I'll go check and see if Mom needs any help outside."

After Lee went out the kitchen door, his Father spoke again as he began taking silverware out for lunch. "Jeanette, you'll have the bedroom up at the top left of the stairs all to yourself."

"You shouldn't go out of the way just for me."

"Nonsense, Jeanette, you're our guest of honor this weekend. We hope to see much more of you in the future."

I could tell Mr. Crane was totally sincere, part Midwestern hospitality, part a desire to see his son settle down and marry one day.

Looking around the kitchen I could see we were almost ready for lunch. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Yes, dear, if you wish you can bring the potato and macaroni salads outside now. I think we'll be eating in a few minutes."

Grabbing one of the bowls on the nearby kitchen table, I went to the home's back door and let myself out. I was glad now I had come to Springfield to meet Lee's family.

*****

It was a beautiful late summer day in Springfield, perfect weather to enjoy lunch outdoors. This is where I ate with Lee's family. In their large backyard were three large picnic tables. There was plenty of space for Lee, his parents, his siblings and their spouses and seven
nephews and nieces.

The moment I sat down that afternoon, I felt as if I was family with these people. They all welcomed me and were happy to have me there. I was glad to be there too, with Lee seated beside me.

As we dug into the large amount of food there, Lee's family slowly began asking me questions. It was to expected, they all wanted to know more about me.  So I volunteered information happily, though I did have to make some of it up along the way.

"You were born in South Korea?" Tom Crane asked. "You speak excellent English."

I didn't take insult at the comment. "I was adopted when I was an infant. My parents brought me here when I was one."

"Oh," Tom replied, looking a little embarrassed.

"I had a classmate at KU like you," Diane Parsons, Jan's partner said. "Josie was adopted from Korea too, when she was young."

"You weren't shifted then," Tom Crane asked.

Lee meant so much to me I hated lying to his family. Then I had been lying to Lee also since almost the beginning. Sometimes I wondered if this would come back to haunt me one day. Except I was too far in to start telling the truth now. "No, I wasn't, just like Lee."

Lee didn't speak up too often during this question and answer session but did so now. "I told Jeanette who everyone was before the shift."  

"Ever think of possibly going back to South Korea and finding your birth mom?" Dave asked.

I swallowed the bit of a hot dog I was eating before answering. "No, not really."

"That's a personal choice," Diane commented. "I think it's understandable either way."

"You grew up in Iowa?" Mr. Crane asked.

"Yes, a small town called Norway. It's near Cedar Rapids. My parents had a farm there."

Lee's father nodded his head. "I have been to Cedar Rapids once. Think I know where Norway is."

"It's a small town but very nice," I added.

"Your parents still live there?" Mrs. Crane asked.

I hung my head. "No, they died in a house fire back last July."

"Oh, we're so sorry," Mrs. Crane said. Similar signs of sympathy were expressed from the adults around the table.

"Thank you," I told Lee's family. As I did Lee patted my left hand as a show of sympathy.

Most of the children were seated at their own picnic table but there were exceptions. Maria Crane the former Dave Crane, was caring for a small baby girl. The child was probably six to nine months old.

"How old is she?" I asked in between mouthfuls of food.

"Cecilia?" Maria asked. "She's eight months old."

"She's really adorable," I told the girl's mother. The real Maria Crane was Cuban-American, and Cecilia seemed to have gotten the best of both her parent's looks.

"Thank you," Maria Crane replied. Like all mothers she liked to be complimented when it came to her children.

I was definitely having an interesting thought process right then. The sight of Cecilia Crane made me think of me having a child one day with Lee. Crazy for someone who had been male up to only five weeks earlier? Maybe, but that's how far I had progressed in that short period of time.   

Having sex with Lee, marrying him, even having his child were thoughts I was having more and more often with each passing day. It wasn't absurd to me anymore; I wanted to have a baby as beautiful as Cecilia.

"So when did you and Lee meet?" Mrs. Crane asked.

"Funny, it was the night the Shift happened. I was on the way home from work," I explained.

"I pulled her over. It was past curfew," Lee added.

"I thought I was going to be arrested for a few minutes," I laughed. Most of the Cranes laughed along with me.

"No, I was only going to issue you a warning till I saw who you were," Lee told everyone.

"You had me fooled for a minute," I smiled back at my boyfriend. He then kissed me on the cheek. Lee wasn't ashamed to show affection to me in front of his family.

"You're some kind of news reporter?" Cathy Crane asked.

I chose my words a little carefully as to not sound as if I was bragging. "I'm a news anchor on a television station in Des Moines."

"Wow, we've got a celebrity here," Cathy Crane proclaimed.

"No, not really," I said humbly, "I'm just an Iowa farm girl."

"Where did you go to college?" Jan asked.

"Northwestern University in Chicago."

"That's a great school," Dave Crane commented. "When did you graduate?"

"1997. I took a job in Springfield, Illinois after that. That is where I worked till last May and then I came back to Iowa."

"How old are you, then?" Twenty-five, twenty-six?"

"Twenty-six in November," I explained.

Mrs. Crane smiled. "You don't look a day over twenty."

I blushed at the compliment from Lee's parent. My boyfriend took this time to give me another kiss.

"We were planning to have this for dinner," Mr. Crane said, "except the weatherman on television said we're going to have rain this afternoon. Doesn't look like rain to me."

"Don't blame me, I don't do the weather," I joked, and almost everyone present laughed in return.

The food and conversation continued to be good. When Lee's family ran out of questions for me, the conversation turned to other things. Even when lunch was over and everyone was full, the conversation continued. When they were through eating, some of Lee's nephews and nieces began playing soccer in the back yard.

"Mr. Crane, how long have you lived here?" I asked.

Lee took this moment to whisper something in my ear. "You can call him Dad, Pop, or father if you want."

"I'm not his daughter-in-law yet," I whispered back.

"We've lived here since Lee was an infant," Mr. Crane said.

Lee was still chuckling from my comment. "Guess I will have to do something about that soon."

"This must have been a great place to grow up," I said. "Love the home you have."

"Thank you," Mrs. Crane replied.  

A few minutes later the subject turned to politics. It got a little heavy between Lee and his sister-in-law Diane. The latter didn't have a high opinion of Republican candidate George W. Bush, now Laura Bush or for a matter of fact the Republicans in general. Lee was definitely of the reverse opinion. The debate was a little heated but never personal.

I think Mr. Crane began to grow tired of the debate. So after a few minutes he interrupted, "I think maybe it's time for us to start cleaning up."

"Sure, Dad," Lee said getting up.

Mrs. Crane spoke up now, "Lee, we're having a problem over at the garage. Maybe you can help me out over there."

"Sure, Dad," Lee said and he along with his mother and Dave and Tom Crane set off for the detached garage.

That left the female family members of the Crane family to clean up. Used paper plates and plastic cups were disposed of in a garbage can near the house. The leftover food was brought inside. Otherwise ants and flies would have over run it eventually.

It would take a few trips to bring everything back in the house. After making my first trip, I had to ask Lee's father something, "Mr. Crane, could you tell me where the bathroom is?"

Jan Crane was nearby and Mr. Crane addressed her instead of me, "Janet, could you show Jeanette where the bathroom is upstairs? Show her the bedroom she'll sleep in, also."

"Sure, Dad," Jan told her father. "Come on, Jeanette, I'll show you where everything is."

I followed Jan up the stairs. First place I was shown was the bathroom; this was the second room on the right. After that Lee's sister showed me my bedroom. It was on the left side of the upstairs hallway.

"Hope you like it," Jan said when we entered the small bedroom, the main feature of which was a queen-size bed. "This used to be my bedroom, by the way."

"Really?" I asked. As soon as I saw where my suitcase was I went straight to it. Opening up the bag I took out the sanitary napkins I had packed. Aunt Flo was presently visiting with me.

"Yes, this was my room till I went to the University of Missouri after high school."

I was ready to go to the bathroom now but decided to ask Lee's sister something. "Jan, mind if I ask you something?"

"Go ahead, Jeanette."

"Do Lee and Diane always argue or fight like that?"

"You mean the politics discussion?" Jan asked, and I said yes. "They are always like that. Diane and Lee will never agree on politics. I learned that the hard way a long time ago."

"So you steer the topic to something safe. Maybe like sports?"

Jan laughed very hard at this comment. "That can be even worse, especially if they get started on Universities of Kansas and Missouri sports."

"Okay, I'll remember that. Lee told me a lot about all of you before bringing me down. He said how close you and he were. That you were gay, and that Lee liked Diane, too."

Jan smiled. "That's my little brother. We are real close, and yes, he's always been cool with me being gay. Mom and Dad weren't always like that but finally accepted my sexual orientation."

"That's good," I said. Right at the moment I was feeling an urgent need to go pee. "I'll go use the bathroom. Tell Dad I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."

"I will," Jan said as we both stepped out into the hallway. "By the way, Lee didn't do you any justice when he described you to me. I really look forward to knowing you better."

"Thanks, Jan." As Jan went back downstairs, I went to the bathroom. Once inside, I closed the door behind me.

The rest of the day at the Cranes was as enjoyable as my welcoming. After completing the cleanup job after lunch, I spent the next few hours talking with the Crane women and Lee's father. We gossiped and chatted while keeping an eye on the children who continued to play in the yard. At the same time Lee was helping out around the house with some small repair jobs.

I was making real success with kicking the cigarette habit I inherited when I became Jeanette Crowder. By then I was down to barely a pack of cigarettes a day and was making good progress.

Just before dinner the adults and children all joined in a ragtag soccer game, running around the yard trying to kick a small round ball. It was a lot of fun, especially since Lee was there.

During the soccer game I noticed Maria Crane wasn't participating, maybe because she was watching the children. So I approached Lee's sister-in-law. "Maria, I'll watch the children if you want. Go out there and have some fun."

Maria smiled at me, "I can't, Jeanette. I'm nine weeks pregnant."

Instantly I gave Maria a hug. "I'm very happy for you. Congratulations, how are you feeling?"

"I feel good. No morning sickness at all."

"Everything else all right?" I asked, knowing Maria was really Dave Crane or was prior to the Shift.

Maria answered back confidently, "Just a little excited, nervous and happy all at once."

I smiled at Maria, thinking and praying one day I'd experience those very same emotions as life grew inside me. "That's very normal."

Maria nodded her head, "Yes, I know it is." I chatted with Lee's sister for another minute or so before returning to the Crane family soccer match.

Dinner was also cooked and eaten outside. Lee's father cooked barbecued ribs for the entire family. Again the home-cooked food and the conversation were equally good.

After dinner, Lee and I took a walk of the property. It gave us some time to ourselves, since sunset wasn't till around 7:30 p.m. We couldn't have had a better evening for a walk. It was a pleasantly mild late summer evening, without a cloud in the sky and stars and a half
crescent moon lighting our way as Lee and I clung to one another.

Something was apparently on Lee's mind as we walked. He kept looking like he wanted to say something but for some reason was holding back. "Anything on your mind tonight?"

"Just thinking about us," Lee replied, and then he hugged me tighter to his body. "Why?"

"You just look to be thinking about something. Want to share it with me?"

"Maybe another time, are you having a good time?" Lee asked as we returned to holding one another's hand.

"Very much, thank you for taking me here. I like your family."

Lee bent down and gave me a peck on the lips. "They like you, too. I'm glad you came with me."

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" I asked as we continued to walk.

"Church service is 10 a.m. tomorrow. We're Lutheran and the whole family will be going."

"That sounds nice. What are our plans for afterwards?"

"Ever been to Branson?"

"No, I haven't, but I've heard about it." Who hadn't heard of that small Missouri town and its year long music festivals. Located about sixty miles south of Springfield, it was supposedly the second leading tourist destination in the US, junior only to Disney World in Orlando.

"The Gatlin Brothers are giving a concert down there tomorrow night. I got tickets for us, Diane and Jan. Want to go?"

I wasn't really a country music fan but I was game. "Sure, I'd love to."

"We'll leave after church and lunch tomorrow then. We'll get back tomorrow night, but late."

"Sounds good to me," I told Lee as we continued to walk around the property his parents owned.

A little after 8 p.m. we went back to the house and watched some television before going to bed. I retired for the evening around 10:30 and was asleep by 11:30.

The next day, Lee, Jan, Diane and I set off for Branson around 1:30 p.m. Being Labor Day weekend the traffic was heavy but we managed the drive in a little over an hour. The small Missouri town was packed and parking was at a premium, but we got around that by parking at the home of Diane's cousin Tim and his family.

After parking our car, Lee and I went our separate ways from his sister and her partner, each of us having separate plans for the night. Since our time was limited my boyfriend and I settled on a scenic railroad trip. After this we had dinner and walked around Branson till the concert began.

I was not a big country music fan but enjoyed the Gatlin Brothers concert. It helped that Lee liked this music and if he enjoyed it, I was happy. It was a nice night out with my boyfriend while not having to think or worry about our jobs. After the concert, we rendezvoused with Diane and Jan and were back to the Crane home around 12:30 in the morning.

The next morning and part of the afternoon Lee took time to show me around Springfield. Particularly the places where he spent time growing up. The schools he attended, the neighborhoods he went and played in as a child, where his father and mother worked and other places. While out we had lunch at a sub place. We were back at the Crane home by 2:30 that afternoon.

Monday night was our last night in Springfield, for Lee and I both had to be back to work on Tuesday. Right after dinner, we left for the six-hour drive back to Des Moines. Before leaving I received many well  wishes and invitations to come back again. I was certain I'd be back to Springfield, maybe even wearing an engagement ring the next time I came. That at least was my dream. The Crane family had been wonderful to me; I hoped to get to know them better in the future.

"You certainly made a big impression on my family," Lee told me in the car.

"I like them, too. Jan and Maria were very nice to me."

"Yeah, Jan told me how she liked you, too. She also asked me when we're going to get married," Lee laughed.

I laughed too, "With your and my work, we may have trouble finding time for things like that."

As Lee continued to drive, we talked about our respective plans for the weeks ahead. With the demands of the overworked and understaffed Des Moines police force and Lee's Army Reserve commitments, it could be some time again before we both had a weekend off to spend together. I didn't regard that as a problem, we'd still have dinner or breakfast together and sometimes fit other things into our tight schedules.

On our way home Lee and I made many admissions of our love for one another. We talked about our hopes and our dreams and what we'd like to do together for life. Marriage was never mentioned directly, but it was on both our minds. My female intuition was telling me Lee would pop the question by year end. Then we'd marry the next summer some time. That's what I dreamed, of being Mrs. Jeanette Crane. It had a nice ring and my initials wouldn't even change.

A little past Kansas City I fell asleep. It wasn't till we were almost in Des Moines that Lee decided to wake me up. During the whole trip we had only made one stop, to use a fast food place restroom. While there, Lee got himself a cup of coffee to drink.

"We're almost home," Lee told me as I regained consciousness. We'll be getting off the interstate in two more exits."

"What time is it?"

"A bit after midnight."

"Twelve-thirty," I said as I refocused my eyes and looked at my watch. "How are you? You're not tired or anything."

Lee shook his head. "No, I'm fine. You'll be home in ten minutes or so."

To get to East Des Moines and Pleasant Hill, one got off the same exit as the one for the Iowa State Capitol and WHO. By now curfew was no longer in effect, so getting to our respective homes would only take ten minutes from where we exited the interstate at this time of the night.

As we got off I-235, Lee had a question for me. "Want to have some dessert before bed tonight?"

"I'm all out of ice cream at home. I've got to get some at the grocery store this week."

"Okay," Lee answered. "Want to stop by my place and grab some Rocky Road?"

I thought for a few moments before answering. The next day I wasn't required at WHO till 2 p.m. and I didn't have any plans for the morning. I could sleep till 11:30 before getting up. "Sure, I'd love to."

A few minutes later we arrived at Lee's apartment in East Des Moines. Once inside, we went to the kitchen area where I took a seat while my boyfriend got ice cream for the two of us. After eating our ice cream, Lee took our bowls and put them in the sink.  

He'd clean up after getting me home safely. We walked to the apartment's door together, but stopped just short of the front door. Lee and I embraced one another and began a long passionate kiss.

When we surfaced for air, Lee smiled down at me. "I love you, Jeanette Crowder. You're unlike any woman I've known."

I was still covered in goosebumps from my embrace with Lee, and I was blushing visibly in front of the man I loved. "I love you too, Lee."

Lee's and my lips met again in another passionate kiss, but this time with more tongue action as we took turns probing one another's mouths. The kissing slowed but didn't stop, as we began giving each slower kisses. Lee placed his hands on my buttocks and drew my body closer to his.

I immediately felt it, Lee's manhood. It had to be full size and throbbing. Feelings and urges I knew from when I was Paul Hanratty. Now as Jeanette Crowder I felt this from the opposite perspective. My boyfriend was full of life and I wanted him inside me. The time had arrived and I was ready.

The hard part was telling Lee, but this I did after managing to pull my lips away from his. "Lee, make love to me."

Lee and I didn't say another word as we went straight to the bedroom. Lee unzipped the dress I wore, then helped to unfasten my brassiere. I was happy to give him this pleasure and once it dropped I let my boyfriend and soon to be lover see my breasts in hope they were to his liking. If the smile on Lee's face was any indication, he was completely satisfied with my mammary glands.

I finished undressing myself while Lee took his own clothes off, just leaving his socks on. The last article of clothing to drop was my boyfriend's boxer shorts, and so doing I got to see his penis for the first time. It was full-size, very erect and big, or so I thought having only the manhood of Paul Hanratty to measure it by. It didn't matter; Lee's manhood was just perfect for me.

The moment I saw Lee's penis I began giggling uncontrollably like some school girl. What happened next was a pleasant surprise; Lee took me off the ground and into his big manly arms. He then took me and gently placed me back down on his bed. As soon as I was settled, it was Lee's turn. He climbed on bed, using his hands for support he hovered over me for a moment.

"I love you, Lee, please make love to me." Lee didn't speak, he just smiled at me.

Then Lee began kissing me not on the lips but slow kisses beginning first at the nape of my neck. From there my boyfriend slowly worked his way down my body. For a few seconds I grew impatient with Lee's slow lovemaking till I realized what he was doing. He wanted to seduce or arouse me first. To Lee I was a goddess and my body a temple. In a few minutes I'd gladly hand him the keys to the temple, but first my lover wanted to survey its beauty.

Lee proved to be an expert at arousing me. Going into the bedroom I was feeling very aroused, and badly in need of my boyfriend's manly love. Here prone on my back in bed with Lee naked before me I was aroused much more than before Lee and I had started. My body was covered with goosebumps, my nipples hard and erect, my vagina warm and waiting. Lee was completely naked, and had me basking in his manliness. My only
complaint was I didn't always get to see his penis from my position as he seduced me. I wanted it inside me and to feel the warmth of his love.

I soon got my wish as Lee's reconnoiter of my body ended. Again he was on his hands hovering over me, our lips meeting in a series of passionate kisses. I spread my legs in anticipation of our next stage of lovemaking.

Suddenly all two-hundred or so pounds of Lee was top of me. My back winced from the added weight. I was only distracted by this for a second. For Lee had penetrated me, his penis now inside me. Using his arms so as to cradle me, we began our magical ride together.

'I'm not Paul Hanratty anymore; I'm Jeanette Crowder...Jeanette Crane...Lee's wife...mother to his children,' I thought at least for a few seconds, my mind quickly going back to what I was doing. Actually I don't think I was thinking much at all. Loving my man's testosterone as
he made love to me and made me a complete woman.    

Lee's manhood was almost bursting with life when he entered me so I wasn't surprised at all when it took perhaps a minute to reach its climax. My own body was waiting for it, wanting it, needing it. Then Lee almost stopped breathing, his tempo slowed that is except for his penis. It burst with life, pouring its semen inside me. I wished right then we could have made a child, except my period had just ended hours before, therefore we would have to wait for another day.

At almost the instant Lee burst inside me, I reached my own climax. My own breathing turned short and labored as my vagina sprung to heights of ecstasy becoming warm and well lubricated, almost all the muscles in my vagina contracting around the penis still inside it. Lee and I had both climaxed.

Our physical lovemaking wasn't all done. Rolling off the top of me but also taking me with him, Lee and I lie side by side. His penis slowly got smaller but it still remained inside me as we began a series of kisses.

I felt loved and wanted like no other time in my life, either as Paul or as Jeanette. Now I was satisfied, happy beyond any words could describe. I loved this man more than anyone I had ever known.

As we continued to kiss and hug each other, Lee's penis exited me. It was worn out from our exertions and quite small now. Still kissing Lee, I took his manhood in my right hand, cradling it gently. It took a few moments for it to react, but it began getting strong and erect again.

"He's a big boy," I told Lee in a girlish giggle. Lee replied by kissing me deeper and longer.

After our kisses started to slow, I decided to do a reconnoiter of Lee's body. Even in the darkness of the dimly lit room, I could make out much of my lover's body as I slowly kissed it. Lee was so manly to me, my arousal not diminished since our lovemaking session ended.

I made my way down Lee's body, finally arriving at his crotch area. His penis was so large and erect again. I took it again with my right hand.

"He's so cute," I said, giggling like a school girl. Lee just remained silent as he ran one hand through my hair.

As I held Lee's manhood I began to feel an urge or need to give my lover oral sex. So I kissed Lee's penis once, then twice, each time getting a little closer to its tip, my third kiss coming almost on the tip.

I was about to engulf Lee's manhood with my mouth, when I felt a gentle tug on my hair. "Kitten?" Lee said, calling me by a pet name for the first time ever. I'd have to come up with one for my lover too, some time.

"Yes, Lee?"

"Don't do that, okay?"

I did as Lee told me, straightening up and pulling myself back alongside him, placing my head on his hairy chest once again as I ran my right hand over Lee's body. "You don't like? I wanted to show how much I love you."

"Kitten, you don't have to do that for me," Lee said gently, kissing my forehead. "I know you love me, and I love you, too."

It was getting late and we both needed to get some sleep. A little later we both used the bathroom before retiring to bed. I wouldn't be going home to Pleasant Hill that evening; I'd be sleeping naked in bed alongside Lee. Cozying up close to the man I loved, I rested my head on his hairy chest and began to close my eyes, dreaming of what future the two of us would share together.

My eyes opened Monday morning to a bedroom filling with light. I knew where I was but not the time, a quick glance at a bedside clock said it was 10:07 in the morning.

I had awoken that morning alongside Lee but with my back turned to him. My boyfriend's snoring was the only noise in the otherwise quiet apartment. Finished with my checking of the time, I turned myself around and cozied next to Lee. My boyfriend must have some kind of proximity gear in his mind, for the very moment I gently touched him, Lee swung over onto his back and wrapped his left arm around me.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Very," I said, drawing as close to Lee as I could and placing my head and left hand on his chest. "I love you, thank you for last night."

"I love you too, kitten," Lee told me. I liked being his little kitten.

It still felt so good from the night before. Right then I let my left hand slowly made its way to Lee's crotch. I took Lee's penis again in my hand and held it. Within in seconds it sprang to life.

"You like him," Lee commented as he kissed my forehead.

"Uh hum..." I said in a soft purr, "Make love to me again."

Lee took me in his arms again and did as I commanded.

"Bye, Lee, I love you," I told Lee as we shared one last kiss in my Pleasant Hill driveway. I was standing outside my boyfriend's Ford Tahoe but with my head leaning in the driver side window.

"Bye, kitten. I'll call or stop by the station sometime after 6:30," Lee told me. I then stepped back from my boyfriend's car as he drove off. I slowly waved at the car till it was out of sight.

It was about 12:45 Tuesday afternoon, and it was proving to be a hot Iowa September day. Walking over to the mailbox, I collected the mail from the previous Saturday. Tuesday's mail wasn't there yet; the mailperson didn't deliver most days till I had left for work.

As I walked to the front door I thought of the events of the last few days. I still smiled from the two lovemaking sessions I had with Lee. Tuesday morning's was still good, but lacked Lee pouring his sperm into me or climaxing. I guessed he needed time to recover from the night
before. .

After our lovemaking was over, Lee and I had used the bathroom and had breakfast together. While we ate our French toast, Lee and I talked about many things, both of us making repeated expressions of our love for each other. It wasn't lust I felt for Lee but a deep love. I knew I'd never meet another man like him again.

Now it was time to return to the real world. Still wearing my clothes from the day before, I'd put on a new outfit before going into the office this morning. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't realize someone was sitting on my front stoop waiting for me.

"Good afternoon, Miss Crowder," said Detective Stanley Kowalski. Ignoring this pest for that was what I considered him, I stepped around him on my way to the front door. As I did so the policeman slipped a cell phone out of his pocket and made a quick call. All Detective Kowalski said was, "She's here." Then he hung up.

I was trying to ignore this as I unlocked my home's front door and stepped inside. It was when I put my purse down that I noticed Detective Kowalski had followed me into the home. "This is my home. Please get out."

"You're a very hard woman to find, Miss Crowder," Detective Kowalski said as he surveyed the inside of my house.

I walked into the kitchen area and opened the refrigerator. While taking out a carton of orange juice, I repeated my original demand. "Please get out of my house."

"Can't do that, Miss Crowder," Detective Kowalski said, walking into the kitchen. He then removed a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. "This is an authorized warrant to search this home."

My hands were already shaking when I took the paper from Detective Kowalski and sat down at the dinner table. I immediately reached for my purse where I removed a pack of cigarettes.

Lee had been so supportive of my kicking these habit-forming things. I had even gotten my daily total down to eleven the day before. My boyfriend was so encouraging, he told me I'd be rid of the habit by the end of September. I was beginning to think he was right.

Now I needed these dreadful things. Nervously I lit one cigarette up and began to puff away as I read the search warrant. At the same time Detective Kowalski hovered nearby. He was apparently delaying the beginning of the search of my home for some unknown reason.

I was into my second cigarette and still reading the legal mumbo jumbo known as a search warrant, when six more police officers arrived at the house. Five were men, but one was a police woman. As soon as I finished cigarette number two, I got up from my seat. "You can search the house, but I've got to be leaving for work. My day starts-"

Detective Kowalski and the female police woman approached me as I spoke. The poor man's Danny Devito interrupted me. "I don't think you will be going back to that television station any time soon, Miss Crowder. But you will make the evening news. I have another warrant for you..."

The police woman was now beside me and she took me by the arms, bringing them around behind me. A second later I felt the touch of steel on both my wrists. My jaw literally hit the ground then, I had just been handcuffed.

"Miss Crowder, you are under arrest for the murders of your parents, Bruce and Eileen Crowder. You have the right to remain silent..."

My body trembled from head to toe as Detective Kowalski read me my rights and then he and the policewoman led me to a police cruiser now parked in front of my home. As I was made to sit in the car's back seat, I began to cry uncontrollably.

I was taken from my house to the Des Moines police department in the city's downtown area. On the way over Detective Kowalski barraged me with questions but I refused to answer them, saying I wanted to see an attorney immediately.

Once at the jail, I was placed in a holding cell by myself. Before being put inside, I was made to hand over my purse, jewelry, and watch. These were bagged by some unnamed police officer. As soon as all this was done, Detective Kowalski then left me. As soon as he did I began crying again.

Without a watch time had no meaning now. The cell was just off a squad room, if I stood close to the bars I could see people going about their daily jobs. Other than that the only people I saw were the occasional policeman or woman who seemed to check on me every five minutes.

I don't know what time it was, but there was a familiar voice in the outside squad room. A few minutes later Lee Crane came back to my cell. If I could have I would have tackled the police officer right then and there except the bars were in the way. "Lee, thank God you're here."

Lee looked deeply troubled and justifiably so. "Jeanette, what the hell happened?"

"I have been arrested for my parents' murder."

"Yes, I know that," Lee said as he looked me in the eye. "Why, Jeanette?"

"Lee, I swear to you I didn't do it."

Lee continued to stare at me. "Jeanette, they wouldn't arrest you without a reason. I've talked to some people and they..."

I was almost hysterical in my pleas now. Right then I tried to reach through the bars for Lee but he stepped back. "You've got to believe me, Lee, I didn't do it!"

Lee began pacing the hallway. "I want to believe you, Jeanette, but they have evidence. Some they just found in your house..."

"Yes, we did," Detective Kowalski said as he came walking down the hallway. The policewoman from before and another patrolman were with him. "You have a most interesting collection of cleaning supplies."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jeanette, don't talk to him," Lee advised me.

"Suit yourself, Ms. Crowder, listen to your policeman boyfriend and lover," Detective Kowalski said with this dumb grin on his face. I would have loved to have wiped it off the man's face but the bars stopped me. A few hours in that tiny cell had already made me feel like a caged animal. "Even he won't be able to get you out of this."

The patrolman and policewoman entered my cell. Moments later with my arms behind my back, handcuffs were again placed on my wrists.

"Where are you taking her?" Lee asked.  

"Back to Benton County to stand trial," Detective Kowalski said as I was led from the cell by the three employees of the Benton County Sheriff's Department. Lee trailed behind us. "There's a car out back and we will be leaving now."

Lee made one last plea for sanity. "Detective, I know this woman. She couldn't have murdered her parents."

"Your word counts for so much, Officer Crane. NOT!" Detective Kowalski told Lee as we made our way through a squad room. "I just wish Iowa had the death penalty so I could see her pretty ass deservingly fry."  

As we went down the stairs to the first floor, Lee told me not to talk to anyone but an attorney and that he would see me as soon as possible. I said I would do as he said, also saying that I still loved him. Lee remained silent.

We were soon at the building's back door, a wall clock we had passed by told me it was just after 4:30 in the afternoon. With Detective Kowalski leading, and with the policeman and policewoman each on one side of me, we all then stepped out the door.

"Oh shit," I muttered quietly. It looked like every newsman and woman in Iowa was there waiting for me. Cameras were either rolling or clicking as my police escort pushed its way through the crowd to a nearby parked police cruiser.

Over the years I had seen my share of people arrested and led away in cuffs. Now it was entirely different, I was the one being arrested and I knew I was innocent of murder. Stealing Jeanette's identity was my only crime, and that was it. My hasty decision of July 29th had now boomeranged in the worst possible way.

One thing I didn't do was try to cover my face. I was ashamed and hung my head, but didn't try to avoid having my photo taken as many arrested people did. Maybe I was still in too much shock. Now I WAS Breaking News, not the person reporting it.

As I was pushed down inside the patrol car I made my only public statement. "I am innocent."

Just before the car door closed, I saw Lee's face one last time. He was standing on the top steps of the back exit to the Police department. I don't know how to describe the look on my boyfriend's face. The words bewildered, shocked or sad just didn't make seem an adequate description.

With the handcuffs removed, but my arms now in restraints, the Benton County Sheriff's police car pulled out of its parking space. My only thought then was how big a mess I had made of my life.

The ride to the Benton County jail in Geneva, Iowa wasn't a happy or comfortable one. The arm restraints, while not being handcuffs, gave me limited movement. At the end of a two-hour car ride my arms were in a great deal of pain, as was my back.

But my indignities or pain from being under arrest were only beginning for me. On arrival at the County jail, my booking began. Pictures were taken of me, fingerprints taken, in addition to a sample of my DNA being taken via a mouth swab. All the while I was led from one room to the other, usually in handcuffs. Also while this was being done, I was repeatedly told not to talk and do as I was told. I did just that, because I didn't want to find out the penalty for doing otherwise.

The next phase of my booking began with the taking of my possessions. That included clothes; these would all be bagged and returned to me when I was released from prison. If that ever happened. At the moment I was scared to death at the possibility of spending the rest of my life in prison for a crime I didn't commit. The penalty for first-degree murder in Iowa? Life in prison without the chance of parole. If convicted, I'd prefer death to serving life in prison for a crime I didn't commit.

Next came time to take off my clothes. Having worn them for a day, I was glad to be removing them but not happy with what I'd be putting on instead. I stripped naked in front of two female guards and a doctor. To top it off a strip search of every nook and crevice of my body was done to check for hidden objects. This included a rectal exam, I won't tell you how that felt.

That done I was given prison clothing. As I put these rough feeling clothes on, I began to cry. I'd avoided this through the whole booking process till now. It was just I couldn't believe what was happening to me. Why me?

After I was dressed again I was led to another room. There I was told of the few rights I had in the county jail. This was consisting mainly of visiting hours, phone privileges and use of things like the shower or library. Yep, I got one shower a day, whether I needed it or not.

After this was all explained to me, I was given a piece of paper to sign saying I understood everything.  I signed it and returned the paper to the corrections officer.

"Welcome to the Benton County jail, hon," the male corrections officer said with a slight smirk. Then he addressed one of the female prison personnel in the room. "Take her to Block D, cell three."

Block D cell three was a room ten feet by five in the prison's segregation unit. I was to be kept separate from the general prison population. The tiny room or cell was almost barren. A bunk with a change of linen and pillow along one wall, against the other wall there was a small table and chair. In back there was a wash basin and toilet. No mirror, no radio, no television, just a light bulb in the ceiling and this would never be turned off. I was being placed on suicide watch. Some prison official had deemed me high risk to take my own life. I wasn't at that point, but the thought had entered my mind once or twice since my arrest at home that afternoon.

Not ten seconds after I stepped in the cell, I heard the prison cell door close behind me. My life had become a living nightmare.

Hell was still in session the next morning. I had barely been able to sleep because of both my being depressed and the unextinguished light bulb; in all I may have gotten three hours sleep before I was awakened by someone banging my cell bars with a nightstick. I tried to roll over and get more sleep but the corrections official was insistent.

"Get up, pretty girl, that's if you want breakfast and a shower. If not, suit yourself. You've got ten seconds." On hearing these words I literally jumped to my feet.

First stop was the shower. I did this solo with only the same corrections guard and one other present. Once at the showers I learned the rules, five minutes in the shower, five minutes to dry off. No combs, no brushes for my hair were allowed. I guess I was a threat to stab myself with a hair comb. I was now deeply regretting that I hadn't gotten it cut to a shorter length.

I took my clothes off and stepped into the large shower room. In a way I was thankful no other inmates were present, I'd seen enough prison movies not to relish company in prison, even women. Still I had no privacy; this was another one of the demeaning aspects of life behind bars. The two guards were keeping a watchful eye on me.

Once done in the shower, I began drying myself off in a hurry. Mostly trying to get my hair dry, but the end result was unsatisfactory to say the least. When my time expired, I had to turn in my towel and I was still damp. Taking a small risk, I asked the guard for more time.

"Those are the rules, sweetie, no exceptions," the burly female guard told me while at the same time winking at me. "I just wish I was still male. It would have been fun to have fucked you."

After the shower I was returned to my cell. About five minutes later breakfast was brought. It consisted of two fried eggs, two pieces of badly burnt toast and two small pieces of sausage. The food was lukewarm, and the sausage without taste but I ate every bit of it heartily.

All of this was done while under the careful scrutiny of the same burly female guard. I got jam with the toast and was allowed a plastic knife to spread it. Once that was done, the knife was taken. Trying to kill myself with a plastic knife would have been more trouble than it was worth.

After breakfast was done, I got exactly one hour out in the yard. There were other prisoners there, but a fence separated us. Iowa has a very low crime rate, and female prisoners are pretty scarce. This was when I got confirmation I was the only female prisoner in the segregation unit. That was really of little consolation to me.

When my time in the yard was up, I was returned to my cell. There was nothing there to do but wait.

It was sometime in the late morning that I was told I would be taken to meet my attorney for the first time. I was taken to a small interrogation like room, just two chairs and a table. On the table was a pitcher of water and some plastic Styrofoam cups. I was told to take a seat and wait.

A few minutes later I heard the room door open. "You must be Jeanette Crowder? My name is Ted Bowsfield, and I've been hired to represent you," said a man who appeared to be about sixty years old. I began to get out of my seat but the lawyer motioned me to stay.

Mr. Bowsfield walked around to the other side of the table from me and then placed an old-fashioned briefcase on the table as he started to sit. He was a tall, thin man dressed in a suit that looked like it had been in use for at least twenty years. Around his neck was a red bow tie. The guy looked like he had been through a time warp and transplanted to the year 2000.

The first thing the attorney did was open up his briefcase. He began removing items, a couple of pens, some white out and several large yellow pads. As soon as the lawyer was finished he spoke again. "You know the charges that are going to be filed against you?"

I nodded my head, "Yes, murder in the first degree."

"Two counts. The penalty in Iowa for this crime is life in prison without any chance of parole."

"I am aware of that. But I'm innocent."

The lawyer didn't look particularly moved by this statement of innocence. "You're charged with the murder of your parents, Bruce and Eileen Crowder in the early morning hours of July 15th."

"I didn't kill them."

Mr. Bowsfield sat up straighter in his chair before stating, "The police claim to have a great deal of evidence that says you did."

"I didn't kill them. I couldn't have."

"Ms. Crowder, you're telling me you are innocent of what you're accused of," the lawyer said picking up his pen. "So where were you on the morning of July 15th?"

I had to stop beating around the bush. If I was going to get off from these charges, I'd have to confess who I really was. "I'm not really Jeanette Crowder."

The attorney looked puzzled. It was not even six weeks since the Shift; you'd think he would known what I was talking about. "Can you explain to me how you aren't this woman?"

"The Great Shift," I said. "Before the shift my name was Paul Hanratty."

Mr. Bowsfield wrote down some further notes. "Tell me who Paul Hanratty is."

I spent about ten minutes giving the attorney a run down of my life prior to the Shift and what happened in the first few days afterwards. Other than my friend Dan Billingsley, Ted Bowsfield was the first person to whom I'd confided my secret.

"If you were Paul Hanratty prior to the Shift, why did you pretend being Jeanette Crowder?"

I squirmed a little bit at this question. "Because my life and career were in the crapper, I thought this was a chance to start life all over again."

"Ms. Crowder was your co-worker before the shift. How well did you know her?"  

"Only on a professional basis, we didn't socialize or anything either at work or out of the office."

"In the five weeks since the Shift, no one suspected you weren't Jeanette Crowder?"

I took a sip of water I had poured myself earlier. "If anyone did, no one ever expressed it to me."

"Is there anyone besides me that you spoke to and told them you were Paul Hanratty, not Jeanette Crowder?"

"There is one person," I explained to the attorney. "His name is Dan Billingsley; he works and lives in Billings, Montana. He is the Executive News Producer for KSVI Channel Six there."

Ted Bowsfield was jotting down lots of notes now on his legal pad. "How may I contact Mr. Billingsley?"

"I don't know his home address or phone number off the top of my head. You can get a hold of him at KSVI."

"There is no one else?"

"No, he was the only one I told."

The attorney didn't say anything for about a minute. Instead he either looked at me or some notes he had written on his legal pad. "The police are saying based on some letters they found, that you plotted your parents' murder."

"I didn't kill anyone."

"These letters or emails were found on your computer. They were dated after the Shift happened," the attorney said reading off his legal pad, "they were dated as being sent on August 13th."

"That is absolutely impossible," I said, not believing what I was hearing. "I've been Jeanette Crowder since July 29th."

"Anyone else have access to your computer?"

I thought for a moment. Lee had been over my house many times, but never used the PC Jeanette owned. He was almost never out of my sight; no, Lee couldn't have done it. "No, I am the only one."

"Then we have a problem. These letters are very incriminating and don't match your story. Prosecutors will say you are the real Jeanette and wrote those letters."

"I did not!" I almost yelled.

"They will also say if you claim to not be the real Jeanette, that you were both never believed to be anyone else and secondly the only person who had access to the computer."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Have you tried a first-degree murder case in the past?"

The lawyer twiddled his thumbs for a few seconds before speaking. "Benton County, Iowa is a quiet community. Murder is a very rare crime here."

"I've never been in this county in my life before yesterday."

The lawyer half shrugged, half nodded. "It's been almost sixteen years since the last first degree murder trial in this county. To answer your question, yes, I have experience. I was the defendant's attorney in that 1985 trial, and represented another first degree murder defendant in 1979."

"So you've done two such trials?"

"Correct."

Why did this suddenly not make me overflow with confidence at my prospects of being exonerated? It wasn't the attorney's fault, the man was a straight-shooter with me, no matter what his experience level.

"So you do criminal law, then?"

"Yes, but as I said, there isn't much demand for it. I'm not a solo practitioner, but part of a small firm. We do general law, criminal, some litigation, wills and trusts. Is that satisfactory?"

I guess it would have to be. "Yes, it is."

"Good. I need to be perfectly frank with you, Ms. ..."

"Hanratty."

"Ms. Hanratty," the attorney said with hands outstretched in front of him almost like the man was praying, "I have to tell you that your claim to not be the real Jeanette Crowder may be hard for a jury to believe. It appears you were very successful at convincing people you were. The prosecutors will show that at the trial."

The attorney had a point. I was telling the truth and to me that looked like the only possible defense at trial for me. "Do you believe me?"

The attorney turned almost Buddha like before answering, "Ms. Hanratty, I think you can pardon me if I say that I've heard a few lies or false stories over the years in the course of my defense work."

"I guess you do."

"Whether I believe you or not, I'm ethically obligated to defend you to the best of my ability. I will give this case the same attention I gave my prior first-degree cases."

"Can I ask how you did?"

"One client was found guilty, one not guilty."

'I guess I've got a fifty-fifty chance,' I thought to myself. "What's the next step?"

"Tomorrow you will arraigned on the charges the government is bringing forth against you."

"I have to appear in court then?"  

"Yes, and I'll be there. It's a rather simple affair. We'll get a copy of the charges against you, plus you get to plead guilty or not guilty."

"I am not guilty."

Ted Bowsfield just nodded his head. "The subject of bail is the last thing that will come up. I wouldn't be expecting it if I were you, bail is rarely set in a case such as this."

"I understand."

"To defend you I will need you to provide me with as much information as possible about yourself both as Paul Hanratty and then after the Shift as Jeanette Crowder."

The attorney then reached in his briefcase and took out two blank yellow legal pads, a few white envelopes and a small box of blue ink pens.

"Will they allow these in my cell?"

"Of course they will."

I hung my head. "I've never been in trouble before in my life. This is so humiliating."

"That's perfectly understandable," the lawyer said as he closed the briefcase. "The police are claiming the letters you wrote say that you killed your parents so as to inherit their money."

"I wasn't Jeanette Crowder till barely a month ago," I uttered, my head shaking again from the latest revelations about the woman I became. This anchorwoman had a very dark past which I had foolishly stepped into. "I don't know anything about her parents nor how much money they had."

"I believe most of Mr. Crowder's estate is based on the property value of the Crowder family farm," the lawyer said, writing another note. "I'll have to check on that."

Something else came across my mind then. "There is something, I don't know if it's relevant, that you may want to know about."

"Everything is relevant. Tell me."

"It's possible," I said hesitatingly because I wasn't even certain. At that moment I could have desperately used a cigarette. "I don't know for sure, but Jeanette could have been abused."

"How do you know this?"

"There are bruises on my body, I have back pain," I tried explaining. "A friend of mine saw these and asked me what had happened to me."

"You don't know when these injuries were suffered?"

"No, I don't. They don't look to be recent. Do you want to see them?" I asked. I was willing to expose myself to this attorney. That tells you how desperate I was becoming because of my plight.

"That's not necessary," the lawyer said while jotting down some more notes. "Would you consent to a medical examination?"

"Of course, anything to prove I am not guilty."

"Good. I also must inform you that the state may demand the same. They will almost certainly have you examined by one of their psychiartrists."

"No problem."

My first meeting with Mr. Bowsfield appeared to be winding down. The attorney studied his legal pad as if he was looking for more questions to ask. I was in no hurry, what was I going to do in my cell all day?

As to Mr. Bowsfield's legal abilities my feelings were mixed. I had no doubt he would defend me to the best of his ability. Would that be enough? I would be facing trial sometime in 2001.  If I lost, I'd lose all my rights for the rest of Jeanette Crowder's natural life.

"Mr. Bowsfield, give it to me straight, what are my chances?"

The attorney turned Buddha like again for about a minute before answering. "I'd be lying to you if I said we don't face a very difficult challenge in making either the court or a jury believe what you told me."

"It's true, I told you."

Mr. Bowsfield nodded. "The difficulty will be, and the prosecution will point this out, is the fact that for almost six weeks post-Shift people believed you to be the real Jeanette Crowder."

My attorney was right. I was such a good actress that it cost me my freedom. "I even said so on the air one night at the television station."

"The prosecution will point all of that out. We need to show that you couldn't be anyone but Paul Hanratty."

I paused for a few moments. "Do we have other options?"

My attorney mused silently for about a minute. "If we can prove Jeanette was abused, that could be used as a defense though my personal opinion is that it will hard to convince a jury of this. Harder than if we make the claim you aren't Jeanette Crowder."

I wasn't all that kean on the 'abuse' excuse, either. It would be seen as an admission I committed the murders. Something I just didn't feel as I should. "Can you tell me why?"

"The people of Iowa are mostly traditional, law-abiding people. Your, or I mean Jeanette's parents were well respected members of this county. It will be very difficult to convince these people's neighbors that they had abused their only child. One they had gone through great expense and much time to adopt."

I saw the lawyer's point. "What about having the trial moved to another part of Iowa? This crime was getting a lot of ink in Des Moines. I'd have to guess it got much more here."

"Yes, there has already been a great deal of pre-trial publicity. I will ask for a change of venue and we will almost certainly get it," my attorney said after drinking a little water from the pitcher on our table. "I just feel even in another jurisdiction the claim of abuse
will not work with a jury. That is, unless the abuse was fairly recent."

I shook my head. "No, I don't think it is. Any other option?"

"A plea bargain is the only other option."

"I'm not guilty. So I'm not going to be taking any plea bargain," I said a little curtly.

The lawyer ignored my slight loss of temper. "In any case I doubt the prosecutors would ever agree to one. This is a multiple homicide, and they're claiming it's premeditated."

"I'd prefer to try proving I am not Jeanette."

Mr. Bowsfield nodded in agreement. "I believe that will be the wisest defense if the prosecution's evidence is as strong as they say it is."

"After the arraignment, what are the next steps? A preliminary hearing?"

"We can have a preliminary hearing or waive it. The advantage of having one is the prosecution outlines their case for trial."

"Won't we learn all of that in pre-trial discovery?" I asked. My knowledge of court procedures was basically lay in nature but I had picked up some knowledge over the years.

"Yes, we will. The hearing just gives us a preview of the prosecution strategy. Sometimes cases will be dismissed at the end of those hearings."

"That probably won't happen in my case?"

"No."

"I'd rather get to the trial as soon as possible. I don't want to be in prison any longer than I have to."

Mr. Bowsfield wrote some notes. "We can waive the hearing then, if you
wish."

"I do wish that."

My lawyer then told me what he would be requesting of me in the days ahead. Using the legal pads he gave me, I was to write down everything that had occurred in my life since coming to Iowa the previous May. He wanted the minutest details about my activities, interests, friends or acquaintances I had in that time. Pretty much anything or everything. Mr. Bowsfield said even a trivial matter may be important in proving I wasn't the real Jeanette Crowder.

I guess writing down my life would keep me busy in the days ahead. There certainly wasn't much else to do in my jail cell.

"The sooner I get these, the quicker they can possibly be used in your defense."

"I will get working on this immediately," I told my attorney and then briefly paused. "Would you like the name of my ex-wife? I know she lives in Reno, Nevada now."

"Certainly! Have you spoken to your ex-wife lately?"

"No, not in almost a year."

"She could still prove useful in proving your identity," the lawyer said, passing me a notepad. I wrote down Donna's name, including her maiden name and the last address I remember for her. Though I warned Mr. Bowsfield it could be partly wrong. Street addresses were not one of my strong suits. "That's if we can find her. People are all mixed up after the Shift."

That was true enough. "Donna and I aren't exactly on good terms, either. She may not want to testify."

"We can have her subpoenaed if necessary. I'd like the names and addresses of anyone you think can possibly verify your identity," my lawyer said taking the legal pad back from me. "Are your parents alive? Any siblings? Other family you are close to?"

"No, none at all."

Mr. Bowsfield wrote some more notes. "Any very close friends other than Mr. Billingsley that you think can help verify your identity?"

At the moment I could not think of any. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow. Between now and then I will try to think of anyone who can."

"That's good," Mr. Bowsfield said. The meeting with my attorney was almost over. "The arraignment is tomorrow morning at 10:30."

I had some questions to ask. "How often will I be seeing you?"

The attorney turned Buddha like in his chair again as if he was evaluating me. "I'll be at all your court hearings. In general I see a client anywhere from one to three times weekly, as much as is necessary."

"I've never been in prison in my life. I just don't know what to expect."

"That's all right," my attorney went on to explain. "A client like yourself, if I don't see them in court during the process of a week I will come and see them one to two times to touch base. I usually stop by in the late afternoons."

"If I need to get a hold of you, can I call you at the phone number on the card?"

"Yes, my law office has an answering service. So you may call twenty-four hours a day. I will then get in touch with you."

"Can you do anything about here?" I decided to ask. "They have me in solitary and on suicide watch. The light is always on and I could barely sleep last night."

"Unfortunately, I can't. That is up to the judgment of the prison warden. They must however treat you well, meals, access to me, and a phone if necessary. You can't be kept from contacting me at any time. The prison will also furnish you with medical care."

"Okay." I accepted my attorney's reply but didn't feel at all satisfactory with my current situation. Prison life really teaches one how most people take their freedoms for granted.   

"Any other questions or concerns?"

"You wouldn't have any old newspapers or magazines? There is nothing to do in my cell."

My attorney opened his briefcase and took something out. First he tore off part of its front page, then Mr. Bowsfield handed it to me. It was a six-month old Reader's Digest. "You can have that. I'm done reading it."

"Thank you, I appreciate it," I replied. Reader's Digest wasn't my normal reading material, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"You have access to the prison library here. There you can check out books, also."

"They only let me out of the cell for one hour. That's totally taken up in the yard."

"You can request to visit the library, also. I can't do anything about the hour limit, but you can say you'd prefer to visit the library," the lawyer explained.

"Thanks for telling me that."

"If that is all," Mr. Bowsfield said, getting up from his chair. He re-opened his briefcase and began placing his legal pads and pens there neatly. The man looked to be very organized. "I will be leaving now. We'll see one another at the arraignment tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Mr. Bowsfield."

"Good day, Ms. Hanratty," my attorney said back. On his way out of the room he patted me on the shoulder. As soon the lawyer was gone a guard came into the room to lead me back to my cell.

I was in the cell five minutes later but not before being patted down and having a wand run over my body. As soon as the cell door was closed I went to the table in the room and began writing my life story.

The arraignment on Thursday was as routine as my attorney predicted. I was asked for my plea, to which I replied not guilty. The issue of bail then came up. A female attorney arguing for the state made the case that remand was necessary in this case, since I was charged with multiple counts of homicide. Mr. Bowsfield protested well, but the judge said I was to be remanded. So not a single surprise and all terribly routine.

Before leaving I spoke with my attorney some more again. Mr. Bowsfield had a few clarifying questions for me from the talk the day before. I answered these the best I could, while also giving the attorney the notes I had written so far.

We also talked about a few particulars concerning my upcoming trial. A prosecutor named Dennis Lemaster would be trying the case, however no judge had yet been assigned. This would be only temporary, my lawyer assured me. By law, a judge had to be assigned within seven days of my arraignment.

Other news began to make me greatly depressed. I asked my attorney how long before my trial. Iowa not being known for its crime, I was hoping that I may stand trial by year's end, the sooner the better in my opinion.

Mr. Bowsfield almost at once squashed my optimistic hopes. He pointed out this was a first degree murder trial and thereby terribly complex. The court and its officers would be very meticulous in its proceedings, considering the potential severity of my sentence if found guilty. Therefore, my lawyer predicted a trial wouldn't begin before spring or even possibly summer.

This news set about deep depression in me. I was not guilty of these crimes and I was going have to endure prison for up to possibly a year. All I was guilty of was being an idiot, and now I had two lives in ruins. Combine my imprisonment and my life being a wreck, I just felt overwhelming hopelessness. It was probably good I was on suicide watch, I may well have taken my life if given half a chance.

Physically I wasn't doing much better than I was emotionally. My prison issue clothes were driving my skin nuts, they were so coarse. Plus my back seemed to be worse than ever. I had a fit of back spasms Thursday afternoon that left me no recourse but to lay on my bunk for an hour till they subsided.

Mr. Bowsfield saw none of this. I kept my happy or at least somber face on for him. Before departing that day, he gave me another old Reader's Digest but more importantly a day old Cedar Rapids Gazette. Sure enough my arrest was front page news in that newspaper. My picture was there, and it was pretty horrible to say the least. My arrest in Des Moines was definitely not a Kodak moment.

There was also a brief mention of WHO in the paper. I had been suspended, not fired from my job at the station. Tracy Jenkins was quoted as saying, "Ms. Crowder is a valued employee of WHO and when this legal matter is over we hope to see her back at the station." Me returning to WHO seemed more unlikely to me than pigs flying.

Little else happened that day; I had three meals, my timed shower, an hour in the yard and the rest of the time spent either reading or writing in my cell. For the first time I got a few glimpses at other inmates but no contact with them. I didn't mind the solitary confinement after seeing them; the women at this prison hardly looked like Catholic choir girls.

My ordeal had only begun. How long it would last was unknown.

On Friday I had only returned from the prison library maybe ten minutes earlier when one of the prison guards came to my cell. "Crowder, you have a visitor."

"I'm coming," I replied, putting down my pen on top of the legal pad upon which I had been writing. At the moment I had a fair guess who may have come to visit me that day.

My hunch proved to be correct, my boyfriend Lee Crane was waiting for me.

The visitor room was a series of booths with small wooden dividers separating them. A prisoner sat across from their visitor, they could touch, even kiss if they wanted. They just had no privacy. Guards were present in the room at all times.

At this time only one other female inmate was in the room. She was apparently being seen by her mother who had brought the woman's small child. Lee was seated four booths to their left. I took a seat directly across from him.

I wasn't expecting a kiss and got none. The first thing Lee did was pass me four magazines he brought. They were Cosmopolitan, Vogue, Good Housekeeping and People. "I bought these for you," my boyfriend said in a very matter of fact tone of voice.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," I answered, taking the magazines and putting them to one side. "How are you?"

Lee stared at me unemotionally, "All right, considering everything."

I tried making small talk. Like everything was normal which it certainly wasn't. "How was the trip from Des Moines?"

"Okay, just long."

"What does it take, like two hours?"

"Something like that," Lee answered back. His voice showed no sign of emotion, though I am sure my boyfriend was just keeping them at bay for the moment.

"I love you."

"Really?" Lee asked, sounding and looking not too convinced by my statement.

"I really do, Lee," I told my friend, almost like I was pleading with him. "Believe me."

Lee just held his head with his left hand. "Jeanette, at the moment I don't know what to believe."

"I didn't commit these crimes. You've got to believe me."

"The police say you did. There are letters on your home computer and at work, too."

"I didn't write them. I couldn't have," I said, continuing to plead with Lee. He had a right not to believe me.

"Then how else did they get there?"

"I don't know. I just couldn't have committed these crimes."

Lee stared at me for a second. "Couldn't or didn't?"

"Both," I said, realizing that I'd have to tell Lee the truth about myself. There was no other choice. I owed it to this man more than ever now.

"Please explain yourself to me, because I'm lost right now. I loved you, Jeanette, I wanted to marry you. After I got back from my reserve obligation this weekend I was going to begin looking for an engagement ring," Lee told me, then shook his head. "Now the woman I wanted to marry is in prison, for murder!"

"Lee, I am innocent. You've got to believe me."

Lee began staring at me. "The police have a shit load of evidence that says you did. Can you tell me one reason I should believe you instead of them?"

Taking a deep breath, I quickly replied, "Because I am not really Jeanette Crowder."

"What?" Lee asked, as if shocked by what I said. "Can you explain this to me?"

"I'm not really Jeanette. I've only been her since the Shift happened."

My boyfriend shook his head again in disbelief. "Then who the hell are you?"

"My name was Paul Hanratty before the shift. I was the other weekend anchor at WHO, the one who disappeared," I told Lee who was even more in a state of disbelief by now. "I woke up after the Shift in Jeanette's body and made a decision to...just become her."

"Just like that?"

"Yes, just like that. I made the choice only minutes after waking up in this body."

Lee just shook his head. "If what you say is true, you've been fooling a great many people over the last five to six weeks."

"I know," I told Lee, hanging my head as if ashamed. Right now I really couldn't look him in the eye. "No one thought I was anyone but the real Jeanette."

"You then lied to me, plus my entire family."

"Yes."

"Then why should I believe you when you say you're innocent?"

Lee had a very good point. "Because I didn't commit those crimes."

My ex-boyfriend returned to staring at me. He was angry and felt betrayed. Lee had every right to be. Soon he started shaking his head again. "I can't believe this. What a fucking nightmare."

For the first time since we began talking, I tried to touch Lee. Instead he recoiled from me. Right then I knew our relationship was over. I had truly made a mess not only of my life, but Lee's life also.

"Lee, I'm sorry," I pleaded with my friend, "I really am. All I did this for was because my old life was such a mess. I really do love you."

"Love?" Lee laughed. "Is this how you treat someone you loved? Lie to them, their family. Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

I had no answer for Lee. Suddenly Lee got up out of his seat. "Lee, please..."

"You're quite the little actress, aren't you?" Lee said as he began to pace. One of the prison guards came closer. Perhaps sensing trouble was about to happen. "Oh, to the hell with you, Jeanette or whatever your name is. We're history."

My ex-boyfriend walked out of the room. I just sat there watching as he did so. What had happened was all my fault, no one else's.

I kept my emotions under control till I was back in my jail cell. Once I was alone, I broke down crying as I sat on the edge of my cot. "How dumb could I be?" I asked the empty room as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

Lee would be the last visitor I would have for some time at the Benton County jail. That's not counting my attorney Mr. Bowsfield, I saw him regularly enough as he promised. Other than for his visits, I was very much all alone now but that was no one's fault but my own.

I did try writing Lee at least a dozen times between the day he left me and Thanksgiving, each letter trying to apologize for what I did. I wasn't asking for anything but for him to accept my apology. No replies were ever received. The second week of November I wrote to the Cranes. The letter was part explanation and part apology for what I had done. I owed these people who almost welcomed me into their family that much.

With no outside contacts other than Mr. Bowsfield, I tried to busy myself while in jail. Much of my time was spent either in court appearances, or hearings in preparation for my trial. There were also meetings with my attorney, and time spent in my cell trying to think of anything that could help with my defense.

Some discoveries were made over the next two months. My ex-wife Donna was alive and well in Reno, she had shifted with a friend. A pleasant surprise, she offered to testify or give an affidavit for me. In spite of our differences, my ex didn't want to see me go to prison. Dan Billingsley came forth also. My former boss, Dan was willing to testify on my behalf to save me from spending the rest of my life behind bars.

A week after the arraignment, The Honorable Abraham Wilson was assigned to preside over the case. A graduate of Northwestern University's Law School, and a member of the circuit court county bench for fourteen years, Judge Wilson was very well respected in this part of Iowa. Mr. Bowsfield said the judge was a fair man, and would give us any and all breaks we deserved during the trial process. He also told me not to expect any surprises, the judge had been one of the lucky ones unaffected by the Shift.

The prosecuting attorney as I already mentioned was the Assistant District Attorney for Benton County, Dennis Lemaster. She was a striking twenty something blonde beauty now thanks to the Shift. She appeared absolutely determined to see me spend the rest of my life in jail.

Now that the cast of characters was in place for my trial, the actual steps leading up to it began. All of this took place at Benton County's nearly one hundred-year-old Courthouse in nearby Vinton, Iowa. On average between mid-September and Thanksgiving I would be transported to the courthouse one to three times a week so I could attend my pre-trial hearings. For these trips I was placed in handcuffs and chains, not the most comfortable articles of clothing a woman could wear. 

The authorities wanted to make sure I didn't turn into Richard Kimble. For the most part I sat silently at these hearings, occasionally whispering to my attorney or passing a note. Much of the pre-trial motions were pretty much mumbo jumbo to me. I wasn't legally trained, and Iowa's penal codes could have been written in Sanskrit for that is how much I understood them much of the time.

In addition to Mr. Bowsfield, another attorney and sometimes some paralegals would appear to help in my defense. Slowly I began to respect my lawyer's legal abilities. He wasn't Clarence Darrow, but Mr. Bowsfield was a competent defense attorney working hard to get me off from the crimes alleged by the state of Iowa.

As part of the pre-trial process and as my attorney warned me, I underwent psychiatric examinations conducted both for the prosecution and the defense. These were all done in nearby Cedar Rapids.

The main features of these exams were my sitting down with a psychiartrist and telling them I wasn't the true Jeanette Crowder. During these sessions the doctor would ask me probing questions and I answered them. All the pretending to be the real Jeanette Crowder was over and done with now.

Also I was given Rorschach tests, the Minnesota Muli-Phasic and some personality tests, mostly consisting of answering true and false questions. If I was in a humorous mood I may have wondered about my score on the last ones. Television Anchor Woman or Mass Murderer? Which was I?

I also had physical examinations to endure. Shortly after Judge Wilson was assigned to my case, Mr. Bowsfield filed a motion requesting I be examined by doctors to see if there was any possible abuse of Jeanette Crowder by her parents. The prosecution objected to the request but was partially over-ruled. I did indeed undergo physical exams, but by both doctors working for the Defense and Prosecution.

As with the psychiatric exams, I was taken to Cedar Rapids to be seen by doctors working for the prosecution. I was given a thorough physical, had many x-rays taken, even a cat scan, and blood was drawn. This took almost a full day to be completed.

The almost exact same examinations were done for my defense, but instead of going to Cedar Rapids I was transported to Rochester, Minnesota and the World famous Mayo Clinic. The city is an over three-hour drive from Geneva, Iowa. There I was seen by a Dr. Betty Wong who specialized in abuse cases. Her examination of me took the better parts of two days. When not at the clinic, I was kept at the Rochester city jail.

Also while in Rochester, I managed to persuade my guards into allowing me to have my hair cut. A hair cuttery directly across from the Mayo Clinic just seemed to provide the perfect moment to do something about my impossible to manage hair. When I was through my long mane of hair had been replaced by a shoulder length style. With Lee no longer in my life, I saw no reason to keep my old hairstyle.

When the medical results came in, they were surprisingly in somewhat of an agreement. There was clear evidence of abuse-like injuries to Jeanette Crowder's or now my body. Two broken ribs that had healed, spinal injuries including several compressed discs, a surprisngly well healed broken left upper arm and a chipped right ankle. All of these gave evidence of having taken place some time ago. None of these injuries were recent in nature, both sets of doctors agreed on this.

Where they disagreed was in when they took place or the timeframe. Dr. Wong said the injuries were consistent with having happened twelve to sixteen years ago or when Jeanette Crowder was a youth living with her parents. The prosecution doctors disagreed, saying the injuries were much more recent, suffered no more than seven years ago. Judge Wilson received both reports but said he would rule later if these medical results would be allowed at trial.

Mr. Bowsfield tried to have the search warrants that were used for my home and office computers ruled as being improper and therefore the evidence found in the searches not admissible. A typical or standard defense move, based on minor technicalities. Judge Wilson not surprisingly denied these defense motions. I started to wonder just how many motions my attorney was going to come up with, he seemed to just keep the judge occupied with all the things he was bringing up. I was finding out the hard way just how much activity takes place between judges and attorneys before a defendant even sees a jury.

Then another motion filed by my attorney was for a change of venue for the trial. I had said the same things when Bowsfield had the meeting with me.

Of course the Prosecution objected to a change of venue. Judge Wilson didn't rule immediately but in mid-October he did. The trial would be moved to another location in Iowa, the Benton-Linn-Johnson-Black Hawk, Iowa county area being too saturated with publicity about the case. Bids were then taken from other counties to host the trial.

Eleven counties offered their services, eventually this was whittled down to five candidates. Pottawattamie, Lee, Humboldt, Plymouth and Wapello were the final candidates. In mid-December a random drawing would be done to determine my trial's location.

Overwhelmed by the events happening in my life, it soon began to affect my physical and mental health. My depression deepened with each passing day. Cut off from all contact with people other than those involved in my defense or prosecution, I wallowed in self-pity for myself. I couldn't believe what had happened to me and I cursed the world for imprisioning me instead of seeing my own errors in judgment that helped to put me in confinement.

This caused me to often lose interest in eating. While at the Mayo Clinic, I was weighed at 95 lbs. My height was 5'4. I was virtually a skeleton, and I had little energy or stamina to boot. This only made my depression worse. My life was in a downward spiral and if I had half a chance I would have probably committed suicide. Except I was a chickenshit coward at heart who never could take that final step.  

If there was anything good that came out of me being in prison it was that I stopped smoking. I had no choice since I had no chance to get cigarettes. At least the nicotine habit I had inherited was a thing of the past.

In mid-October I was taken off suicide watch but still kept in the segregation unit. Not too much of my daily routine changed. I did however now have a television, and was allowed two hours daily outside the cell. Most days I spent one of these in the library. To pass the time I became a heavy book reader. I even found myself reading Danielle Steele novels.

Under suicide watch or not being under suicide watch meant very little to me, I was still in prison for a crime I didn't commit. Many a night I would go to bed wishing for death. I did not want to go on like this.

Thanksgiving 2000 came fairly early that year. The fall holiday is always on the fourth Thursday of the month and that year there were five Thursdays. So the holiday fell on November 23rd.

I was in my jail cell that afternoon. As with every Thanksgiving holiday, there were pro football games on. Except due to the Shift, the NFL football season that year had been cancelled. Scurrying for programming filler, Fox and CBS, the networks covering the NFL, took some games out of NFL films vaults and re-broadcast them that day. The late afternoon game was a New York Jets-Miami Dolphin affair that appeared to be from the mid 1980's. If I recalled correctly it was one of the highest scoring games in NFL history.

The game was still in the first quarter when a guard paid me a visit. At the time I was half concentrating on the game and half on my drawing. See, in the last week up till Thankgiving I had taken up a skill I had long discarded. As a child I had been pretty good at drawing pictures. With some sketch pads given to me by my lawyer, I was re-discovering this discarded skill of mine. It helped to pass the time of day.

"Crowder," said a female guard with the last name of LaRoche. Inmates always addressed guards as Sir or Ma'am.

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied as the guard opened my cell door. It was still too early for dinner so I was kind of surprised to have a visitor.

"You're being allowed to have Thanksgiving dinner in the cafeteria," the female guard said to me. Then she waved her hand. "Come with me."

I wasn't really hungry at this time but there was no use in protesting. After putting down my sketch pad and turning off the television set, I left the cell with my prison guard.

The prison cafeteria was like most cafeterias in public places. Except this wasn't a public place and all the inmates in the room were female. As soon as I walked in I felt like everyone there was looking at me. Almost everyone I saw was, so my senses went on high alert.

I went straight to the line the guard who had accompanied me pointed me toward. Other inmates were already in line and more soon filled in behind me. In the whole room there were maybe twenty-five women at most.

The first step in the cafeteria line was to get my desert for the day. I took a slice of pumpkin pie. Then it was time to get dinner. A cafeteria attendant, I think a female inmate in reality, gave me a heaping plate of brown gravy covered turkey and stuffing plus a side of mixed vegetables.

After getting this plate the next stop was to collect my beverage. I was going to get a Sprite, but first the line slowed down. The inmates in front of me were taking their time to get their drinks.

Then it happened. It didn't start with a bang but when the woman in line in front of me turned around and looked me in the eye.

"Stop pushing me, bitch! You'll get your turn."

My mistake was probably that I got defensive. I didn't think I had touched the woman. So I tried to give the woman more room and apologize at the same time, "I'm sorry."

Then the woman behind me spoke up, "Oww. Don't step on my foot either, bitch!"

Now I made my second mistake of the day. "I didn't step on your foot."

"Are you calling me a liar, bitch?" the woman behind said, her anger growing.

"No, I just said I didn't step on your foot."

The woman behind me then gave me a sharp shove which caused me almost to fall onto the woman in front of me. That inmate pushed me back. Going back like some ping pong ball, I then made my third and last mistake of the day. I pushed back.

I was no match for either woman. Almost immediately I was knocked to the ground along with my food. I scrambled to get up, but fell down again when I was suddenly kicked in the back by a fellow inmate. This immediately caused excruciating pain in my already delicate back.

It didn't stop with the first kick. More kicks came in quick sucession, each more painful than the last. The inmates were screaming at me. Saying they would kill me. The guards just seemed to watch, amused.

Somehow my old Marine Corps training kicked in. Fighting back was impossible. I was outnumbered and without help. Ducking my head inward toward my chest I pulled my whole body as tightly together as possible. Moving my hands to cover my head. This was a self-defense technique taught to me long ago when faced with a situation like this. Its purpose was to prevent or minimize damage to vital areas of my body.

The kicking continued and with it the pain increased. Finally darkness descended on me, as it did I just wished my life would end. I could not go on like this.

Somehow I survived my attack, for the next thing I remember was waking up in a prison infirmary bed. I was alive but there wasn't a part of my body that wasn't hurting. Even breathing took great effort.

The next few weeks were all a haze to me except for the pain. I spent most of my days whimpering in pain. Why had this happened to me? Was this the life I would have to face till I passed away? If it was, I wanted to die.

But I didn't, the pain was lessening and I heard one day I was almost ready to be sent back to my cell. About then I began coughing. It was a slight cough at first. But even slight coughs were painful with the three cracked ribs I now possessed. I'd double over in pain if the coughs were strong enough.   

What I didn't know was in addition to my injuries suffered in the cafeteria on Thanksgiving day, I had contracted pneumonia. In my weakened condition, this was life threatening. My condition gradually grew worse and after an examination by the prison doctor on December 3rd, I was rushed to a hospital in Cedar Rapids.

I remember next to nothing of my stay in the Cedar Rapids hospital, at least for the first five or six days of my stay. Someone I knew visited me but I was too out of it to recognize them nor could recall anything about the visit later. When first admitted I needed breathing assistance, my condition being that bad. Under the expert care of doctors at St. Luke's Hospital I re-gained my strength. After ten days in the hospital I was sent back to the Benton County Jail.

When I returned to prison I was placed in the infirmary rather than my cell. I was still considered too weak. Christmas was fast approaching and I wasn't feeling particularly joyful. Would 2001 be any better?