Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿The Trailer Park: The Fourth Year A Story in the Wynter/Trailer Park
Universe by Wizard CopyrightÂ(C) 2006 by Wizard

   Chapter 21

   "Tony, I've been looking for you all over."

   I looked up from the book I was reading.  "Kelly, what the hell are you
doing here?"

   It was the end of third period, and Allie had just left.  I was sitting
in Mrs.  Wayne's classroom waiting for the bell for lunch.  Thursday's menu
was sloppy joes.

   "I snuck over.  I needed to talk to you." The middle school was only a
few blocks from the high school, but she was lucky that nobody spotted her.

   "Wait here," I said.  "Even when the bell rings."

   I grabbed the book I'd been reading and my math book and headed for my
locker, hoping that Mr.  Parker didn't spot me.  Any other teacher wouldn't
say a word, but with Parker it would take twenty minutes to convince him
that tutoring Allie was legitimate and that her teachers and my teachers
all knew about it.

   I made it to my locker and put my books away.  I was starting back when
the bell rang.  Unfortunately, Mrs.  Wayne's room was upstream from the
cafeteria.  Doors flew open and kids streamed into the hall, all heading
the opposite direction.  At times like this, it was hard to believe there
was only six hundred students in the school.

   I finally got back to the class.  Kelly was waiting.  I took her by the
hand and led her toward the back doors.

   "What's she doing here?" A voice asked as we stepped outside.  Kenny and
three of his gang were sitting on the half-wall just outside the door,
smoking.

   I felt Kelly squeeze my hand.  "Didn't you hear, she got promoted. 
She's in our grade now.  Hell, she'll probably graduate years before you
do.

   Kenny surged to his feet, his fists coming part way up.

   "Last time, you sucker punched me," he said in a low voice.

   "Yep, I did," I agreed.

   Kenny looked surprised that I just stood there watching.

   "There are four of us."

   "Your counting is getting better."

   Kenny took another step toward me.  "You don't think you can take all of
us, do you?"

   I looked around.  Kenny was about a half-inch shorter than I was, but
maybe ten pounds heavier.  While he wasn't an athlete, it wasn't fat.  Will
Jennings, who wanted everyone to call him Rocky, stood six foot and looked
like a wall.  And was almost as smart.  Benny Schroeder was small and
didn't matter much.  Bobby Hayes, Kenny's best friend, was almost his twin.
He'd tried out for football but quit after three days.

   "Nope, I can't take all of you.  Of course, at practice this afternoon,
they'll probably want to know where my bruises came from."

   I took a few seconds, but Kenny figured out just how far his little gang
would get against some of the football team.  "You're not worth it," he
said, turning his back on me.

   "Probably not," I agreed.  Kelly and I started walking toward the
baseball field.  I led Kelly past the stands, onto the field, then out the
gate in the outfield into the woods behind it.

   She giggled.  "You trying to get me alone?"

   "I wish," I said with a very real sigh.  "I'm trying to get you back to
school before you get busted."

   "But I need to talk to you."

   "What's stopping you?"

   "Oh."

   "So what's so important that you skipped out of school?"

   "Peter."

   "Peter?" I hadn't seen Kelly's other brother in weeks.  He was a good
kid but stayed mostly by himself.  He was a bit of a nerd.  I wondered if I
could set him up with Traci.  He should be safe.  I had to think for a
second.  Peter was older than Kelly but younger than Mikee, so he was an
eighth grader.  "What about Peter?"

   "He got beat up."

   I didn't see.  I mean, getting beat up is no fun, but it happens.  It
was part of life in the American school system.  Hell, probably the
Japanese and French school systems, too.

   "Again!" she added.

   "Again?"

   She nodded.  "Five times since school started."

   This was the fourth week of school.  Five beatings in four weeks was a
bit much, even for a tough school, which the middle school wasn't.

   "What's going on?"

   "There's a guy.  He doesn't like Peter."

   "I guess."

   "He also wants Peter to do his homework and give him money.  He's
exhorting a lot of kids."

   "Extorting," I corrected automatically.  "What's Peter done about it?"

   "Nothing."

   We came out of the woods onto a quiet residential street.  I turned down
the sidewalk.  "Has he told anybody?"

   "Are you kidding?"

   Sadly, getting beat up once a week was better than getting a rep for
running to mommy or a teacher.

   "He told me to keep my nose out of it."

   I grinned.  Which she obviously was doing.

   "Mikee and I talked about it, and we thought you could help.  We were
going to talk to you this weekend, but..."

   "But he got beat up again, and you decided to cut class." She nodded. 
"Who's class are you ditching anyway?"

   "Mr.  Hallowell's."

   That was something.  I could probably square it with him.  "So who's the
guy?"

   "Tony Gleason."

   Damn!  Some kid with my name was terrorizing the school.  "What's he do
after school?  Tony, I mean?"

   "He usually hangs around the bleachers at the football field for a
while, then walks home."

   I thought for a while as we got to the backside of the school grounds.
We cut across the football field and headed for the back of the gym. 
"Okay, I've got two jobs for you.  One, I want you to tell several people
the story of my fight with Peter King.  Remind them that he was a high
school football player, and I put him in the hospital.  Don't be blunt,
just tell it like a good story.  You know, something like, 'Did you ever
hear about the time when that high school kid tried to beat up Tony Sims?'
See if you can tell six or seven people."

   "Okay," she said unsurely.

   "Then I want you to tell Peter to go talk to the guy after school, at
the bleachers.  Make sure it's after school and at the bleachers.  Tell
Peter to stand up to him and tell him he's had enough."

   "Stand up to the bully, and he'll back down?  This isn't 'Leave it to
Beaver' or the 'Andy Griffith Show' or something.  He'll kill Peter."

   "He won't kill Peter.  I'll take care of it.  Don't tell Peter why."

   "Okay," she agreed without much conviction.  Hell, without any
conviction.

   "Now, you get in there." I pointed at the door to the girls' locker
room. "Go to your next class, just like normal.  I'll see if I can square
things with Mr.  Hallowell." She nodded and walked away.  At the door she
looked back, looking uncertain.  I smiled as certainly as I could.

   She went in.

   Now I had to see two people, then get back to my school, before I had to
square things with a bunch of my teachers.

   "Tony, I've been looking for you," Robbie said as I walked into class
sixth period.  I'd gotten back about halfway through fifth period.  Mr. 
Walker gave me a hard look, but didn't say anything.

   "What can I do for you red?"

   Robbie looked surprised.  "You know, a boy called me red once.  It was
in the fifth grade." She smiled evilly.  "He was able to eat solid foods
again before sixth."

   "Point taken.  So what do you need copper top?"

   For a second, I thought Robbie was really going to punch me.

   "Ignore him," Tami said from beside me.  "He's been in a good mood since
he got to journalism late."

   Robbie nodded.

   "And he won't tell me why," Tami added.

   "Not your business."

   Tami glared.  Robbie looked from one to the other of us, then shrugged.

   "I talked to Mr.  Calloway, and he'll let us use his classroom.  Our
first rehearsal is tonight from seven to nine."

   "That's great," I said.  The school, to be fair, was letting each
production company use the stage one night a week and a classroom the rest
of the time.  "But I can't make it."

   "Why not?" Tami and Robbie asked together.

   "Got a prior commitment."

   "He was gone last night too," Tami said to Robbie.

   "Think he's fooling around?" Robbie asked.

   "Not a chance," Tami said firmly.  "He really wants to live until
February twelfth."

   "You have to be there," Robbie said to me.

   "Can't."

   "Why?"

   "It's personal."

   "We could replace you," she threatened.

   "Do what you got to do." I walked to the front of the class where Mr. 
Branson was sitting at his desk.

   "Coach?" He looked up from marking his grade book just as the last bell
rang.  "I just wanted to let you know, I'm going to miss practice tonight."

   "Why?"

   Deja vu.  "Personal business."

   "Unless it's a doctors or dentists appointment, you need to be there."

   You know, I was getting damned tired of people telling me what I had to
do.  And assuming that I didn't have my own priorities.

   "If it was your hotshot, Mike Reed, you'd smile and nod."

   The coach looked surprised.  "I don't treat him any differently than
anyone else on the team."

   "Uh hun," I said nodding.  "I can see that.  I just wanted you to know
that I won't be there tonight." I turned and took a step toward my desk in
the front row, between Tami and Robbie.

   "Sims, I don't think you have the right attitude."

   I got to my desk and slid in, facing him again.  "I don't know anything
about my attitude, though you're not the first to question it.  I just know
that this afternoon, there's something more important than football.  If
that's so bad, fire me."

   Branson started to respond, then realized that the whole class was
watching.  He cleared his throat and stepped to the blackboard.  "Yesterday
we talked about the role of the International Monetary Fund in world
economics.  Today..."

   As I watched him lecture I could feel Tami's eyes boring into one side
of my head, and Robbie's the other.  I was so tired of confrontation, but,
unfortunately, I wasn't done yet.

   "Tony, I want to talk to you."

   Tony Gleason looked over his shoulder and saw Peter walking up to him.
"So talk."

   Peter swallowed hard.  "I've, uh, I've had all I'm going to take."

   "Really?" Gleason had been sitting on the bottom of the bleachers.  Now
he swung around to look up at Peter.

   From my vantage point next to the snack shack, I could see that Gleason
was almost my size, which meant he would tower over Peter by at least four
inches.

   "Really.  We're going to finish it today.  I'm not doing your homework.
And I'm not giving you any more money.  And if you want to hit me..."

   "Yes?"

   Peter swallowed again.  It was a cool afternoon, but I could see him
sweating.

   "You know, I really love this part.  When the good kid stands up to the
bully, and the bully backs down.  Kid, you've been watching too many
sitcoms," Gleason said.  He stood up, flexing his fists.  "Now this is my
favorite part, where the bully, who really has a heart of gold, beats the
good kid into hamburger."

   "That's my cue," said the man behind me.

   "Wait a few seconds.  It'll be better with blood."

   "I can't..." Mr.  Reed started as Gleason's fist smashed into Peter's
stomach.

   "Go!" I whispered as Gleason's second fist collided with Peter's nose.

   Mr.  Reed stepped around me, then looked back for a split second.  He
was surprised at how cold I was.  "What's going here?" he bellowed.

   Gleason was caught leaning over Peter, his fist cocked.  He looked ready
to run.

   "Freeze, Gleason."

   Within a couple of minutes, he was marching Gleason toward the school,
his hand holding the back of Gleason's shirt.

   I stepped out from behind the snack shack.

   "Peter, you okay?"

   Peter was sitting on the ground, his head up, and pinching his nostrils
together, trying to stop the seeping blood.

   "What are you doing here?"

   "Taking care of business." I reached down, grabbed Peter by the armpit,
and pulled him to his feet.  "Let's get you to the nurse's office."

   "I'm okay," he protested.

   "Sure you are," I agreed.  "C'mon.  I have ten minutes before act two."

   "I let you get hit," I said as we got to the office.  I had him sit on
the examining table.  The school didn't actually have a nurse, but we had a
good first aid room.

   "I don't understand."

   I rinsed a wash cloth in the warm water in the sink and walked over to
him.  I gestured for him to take off his shirt.  I took it and used the
bottom to wipe off some of the blood on his face, then tossed it onto the
counter.  I took the wash cloth and, trying to be gentle, cleaned up his
face.

   "I mean, I could have had Mr.  Reed stop him before he swung."

   "Why?  I mean, I don't understand."

   "This is going to hurt," I said, as I rubbed his nose with the
washcloth. I was pretty sure it wasn't broken.  I wasn't a doctor, but
after years of sports, I'd seen more than a few.  "What I mean, is, I
wanted some blood."

   Peter stared.

   I walked over to the sink and rinsed out the washcloth.  "Here, put this
on," I said, tossing him a t-shirt.  It was from high school football and
supposed to be for the team only.  It was the smallest one we had.

   I pointed toward the phone on the wall.  "Do me a favor.  Dial extension
one hundred and tell Mr.  Reed, 'Two minutes.' I'll be back."

   "I don't get it."

   I grinned and picked up his bloody shirt.  "Act two."

   I walked into the outer office carrying Peter's shirt.  Bloody side out.

   "Hey, you." I called to Gleason, who was sitting on the bench in front
of Mr.  Reed's office.  Somehow I couldn't bring myself to think of him as
Tony.  It seemed like a betrayal of the name.  The rest of the office was
empty.

   "What?"

   "Do you know this school?"

   "I guess."

   "I'm Tony Sims." I could see a small reaction.  I guessed that he'd
heard the story that Kelly was spreading.  "Do you know Peter Temple?"
Another reaction, just a little apprehension.  I forced myself not to
smile. "He's a friend of mine, and somebody's been using him for a punching
bag.  Any idea who?" I wanted to look menacing but really didn't know how.
So I settled for keeping my expression blank.

   "I, uh, I'm..."

   "Tony, what are you doing here?" Mr.  Reed asked, coming out of his
office.

   "Peter Temple's a friend of mine.  Somebody's been beating on him.  I
was going to have a talk with him."

   "Tony, we don't want a repeat of the Peter King incident." Gleason
flinched at the name.  "He was in the hospital for a month.  Mr.  Reed
looked down at Gleason, then quickly back at me.  "Gleason, why don't you
wait for your parents in my office?" he suggested.

   Gleason scampered off the bench and into the office, looking relieved.
Mr.  Reed closed the door.

   "A month?" I protested.  "Three days tops."

   Mr.  Reed shrugged.

   "In the words of Hannibal Lecter, 'I love it when a plan comes
together." "

   "Hannibal Lecter?"

   "Something like that."

   Mr.  Reed smiled.  "Tony you should be an actor."

   "Back at ya," I said, grinning.

   "You ready to go home?" I asked as I walked back into the nurse's
office.

   "I missed the bus."

   "I have a limo in the parking lot," I said, grinning.  Actually, Mom
with her new mini-van.  "Let's get you home so your mom can freak."

   "You going to tell her?"

   "Everything."

   "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

   "Let's just say that when Tony Gleason comes back to school, I think
he's going to stay a long way away from you.

   "What did you do to him?" Peter's mom moaned as she opened the door and
saw us.  "First Kenny, now..."

   "Mom, leave him alone!" Kelly shouted.  "He didn't do it!"

   Why do parents always assume I'm guilty when I bring their kids home? 
I'm going to stop helping people and go live in a cave in the mountains. 
People just aren't worth the trouble.

   "Mikee, would you take Peter back to the bathroom and help him get
cleaned up?"

   Mikee started to protest, looked at my face, and reconsidered.  She
nodded for Kelly to come along.  I love Mikee, she's smart enough to know
when I need a private moment with Mom.

   I took a deep breath.  "Mrs.  Temple, Peter's been having trouble at
school with a bully." I saw her start to speak and held up my hand.  "Kelly
told me about it, and I made sure that Mr.  Reed knew.  He caught the kid
today just after he hit Peter." I decided that mentioning this was the
second time today was superfluous.

   "I don't...  why didn't he come to me?  Or his father?"

   "Because you would have tried to help.  You would have gone to Mr. 
Reed."

   "I...  but that's what you did."

   "It's about perceptions." I said, shaking my head slightly.  "If Peter
had talked to you, you would have gone very publicly to Reed, he would have
called in the kid and his parents, and Peter would have gotten branded as a
momma's boy.  >Somebody who runs to his mommy whenever he gets in trouble."

   "But, that's what I'm here for.  To help my kids."

   I smiled as reassuringly as I could.  "Life's weird.  You're right,
parents are here to help us.  But if they help too much, kids get a rep
that causes them trouble."

   "But you said, you went to Mr.  Reed."

   "The difference is, nobody knows that Kelly came to me for help.  Nobody
knows that I talked to Mr.  Reed.  What people will know is that Mr.  Reed
caught the kid after he hit Peter.  So, Peter gets a reputation for
standing up for himself, and Mr.  Reed can work on the troublemaker."

   "I guess I owe you thanks."

   "You don't owe me anything.  I did it for Peter.  And because I don't
like bullies."

   "You didn't tell me the bully's name."

   "I'll tell you, but my advice is, don't make a big deal about it.  Mr.
Reed's a good guy.  He'll take care of it.  Tony Gleason.  He's an eighth
grader, like Peter."

   "I'll call Mr.  Reed in the morning, but I promise..." she crossed her
heart with a smile, "I won't make a big deal about it."

   I smiled.  "Peter's a good kid.  Take him out and buy him an ice cream
or something."

   I heard something behind me, turned, and looked.  Kenny was coming up
the steps.  I looked back at Mrs.  Temple.

   "Tony, you've been a good friend to the girls and now Peter.  I think it
was very lucky when we became your neighbor."

   I know Kenny heard that as he pushed roughly past me and into the
house...

   Sometimes life is good, and I don't care who hears me say it.

   "And how are you tonight?" I asked pleasantly as Allie's mom opened the
door.

   Her face pinched like she'd just smelled something unpleasant.  "Tony,"
she acknowledged.

   I grinned.  "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

   "Yes."

   I figured I'd given small talk enough chance.  "Well, I'd better get to
work." I started up the stairs.

   "I think you could leave the door open tonight," she suggested.

   "I could," I agreed.  "If you didn't trust your daughter." I smiled to
myself.

   "Who was that?" Tami asked after Mr.  Smidt drove off.

   "A father.  He gave me a ride home." It was a little after nine.  I
managed to get three more hours with Allie.

   I know Tami wanted to ask whose father it was, but she didn't.  "You
have time for a walk?"

   "With you," I grinned.  "Anytime."

   I went inside and told Mom I was home but going to take a tour of the
park.  I came back out and took her hand.

   "You've had a busy day," she commented.

   "Pretty much," I agreed.

   "You disappeared during third period again."

   "Yep."

   "You disappeared during lunch and the first half of fifth period."

   "Yep."

   "You took off right after school and skipped football practice."

   "Yep."

   "I hear the coach was pissed."

   "Probably."

   "You missed the first play practice."

   "Yep."

   "Robbie was not happy."

   I stopped and turned toward Tami and grinned.  "Did you have a point?"

   Tami shrugged.  "Just that you've been busy."

   I kissed her, then started walking again.

   "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

   "Nope."

   "I hate you."

   "As long as you marry me."

   "If I marry you, will you tell me?"

   "Depends.  Can you wait almost two years to find out?"

   "No.  I don't know if I want to marry somebody as mean as you."

   "Well, if you dump me, maybe Robbie will take me back."

   Tami growled and stomped her feet.  "I hate my life."

   "I love mine.  You know what else?"

   "What?"

   "I love you." I pulled her to me and kissed her.  I never got tired of
the feeling of her lips against mine.  Her breath pushing into my mouth.  I
lifted my mouth off hers and leaned close to her ear.  "Ask me tomorrow
after school," I whispered.

   "Promise?"

   "Ask me?"



   Chapter 22

   I was waiting outside the classroom when the bell rang for the end of
fifth period.  Mr.  Walker had let me out a few minutes early.  The door
opened.  Allie was the first one out.  Her face looked horrible, worse than
Peter's yesterday.  Her makeup had streaked and run down her face.  Her
face was puffy and her eyes red.

   She saw me and ran straight toward me, ignoring the looks she was
getting from other kids streaming into the hall.  She grabbed hold and
buried her face in my chest.  I could feel her sobbing.

   I laid my arm across her shoulders and pulled her to the side of the
hall and out of the river of humanity.  "What's wrong?"

   Allie just kept squeezing me and sobbing.

   Luke came out of the classroom and saw us.  He drew an F in the air and
shrugged.

   An F?  How could she get an F?  She knew this stuff.

   I put my hands on Allie's shoulders and gently pried her off me, pushing
her back far enough that I could look at her face.  "You got an F," I told
her.  She stared straight past me.  "What happened?  Did you choke?"

   Allie barely shook her head.  "I...  he...  he said I cheated."

   Cheated?  She didn't need to cheat.  She knew this stuff.  Had she
gotten scared?

   "Allie, did you...  ?" I couldn't finish.

   "I didn't.  I swear, I didn't."

   Confusion.  Mass confusion.

   "So why does Mr.  Singara think you cheated?"

   Allie sniffled.  "Because I got a good grade."

   I was amazed.  I thought I had teachers as a species figured out.  The
man thought she cheated, and gave her an F, because she got too good a
grade?  Why the hell were we here?  Why do they tell us to study?

   "Singara thinks you cheated because you got a good grade on a test?"

   Allie sniffled again and nodded.

   Now what?

   "Do me a favor."

   "I'm still mad at you for missing practice and rehearsal.  Why would I
do you a favor?" Robbie asked.

   "'Cause I'm cute."

   "Huh!"

   "'Cause I'm cuddly."

   "Huh!"

   "And 'cause you're a great friend."

   "What?"

   "Come with me for a couple of minutes and make sure I don't get
suspended."

   Robbie's eyebrows shot up, but she nodded.

   "Mr.  Singara, could I talk to you a minute?"

   He looked up from the papers on his desk.

   "I'm Tony Sims." I didn't introduce Robbie who was standing behind me.

   "Yes, Mr.  Sims.  You're not one of my students?"

   "No, sir." See, I can be polite when I want to.  "But it's about one of
your students.  Allie Smidt."

   "What about Miss Smidt?"

   "Well, you..." there was no delicate way to say it.  "Accused her of
cheating."

   Behind me, I heard a small gasp.

   "I think that's between her and me," Singara said.

   "I understand, and I didn't want you to talk about one of your students
to me."

   "Then what is this about?"

   "I hoped you'd listen to me talk about one of your students to you.  I
don't think Allie cheated."

   "Unfortunately, this isn't about what you think.  It's about what I
think."

   I wondered if he was related to Mr.  Parker.

   "I have a reason for what I think.  You see, this last week, I spent
almost ten hours with Allie, working on her math."

   There was another small gasp behind me.

   "I'm sure that was very nice of you.  But that doesn't change the fact
that she cheated." Singara stood and started gathering his papers into a
briefcase.  "She's getting a F on her test and I'm meeting with her parents
in ten minutes."

   "She didn't cheat!"

   He smiled condescendingly.  "It's good to be loyal to your friends." He
closed his briefcase and snapped the locks.

   "She..."

   Robbie put her hand on my shoulder.  "Tony, we have to get to practice."

   "In a minute."

   "Now!" she said and squeezed.  It may not have been the Vulcan
death-grip, but it got my attention.

   I nodded to the teacher and followed Robbie out of the classroom.

   "We don't have practice today," I said when we were in the hall.

   "You're not suspended."

   "Thanks for that."

   "It would have given you an excuse to miss more rehearsals."

   "I'm very disappointed, young lady," a shrill voice declared.

   Mr.  Parker's door opened.  Allie rushed out, and, for the second time
that day, into my arms.  Her mom and dad followed.

   "Tony!" she wailed.

   "She didn't do anything," I said.

   "Mr.  Singara said..."

   "Mr.  Singara is an idiot."

   "Mr.  Sims, that's enough." Just what I needed.  Parker to get into the
act.

   "The fact is, Allie's only crime is to study hard and do good on a test.
She didn't cheat."

   "Mr.  Sims, this has nothing to do with you."

   "That's where you're wrong, Mr.  Parker.  This has everything to do with
me, because I spent the time teaching her the math.  Something someone else
was paid to do.  And I know that Allie knew the material.  I know she
passed the test on her own.  No cheating.

   "What Mr.  Singara knows," I continued.  "Is that one of his students
improved.  Because she improved, he decided she cheated." I looked at
Allie's dad.  "You know your daughter.  Do you think she cheated?  What's
more, are you willing to accept she cheated based on the fact her grade
went up?"

   Mr.  Smidt looked at Allie, who had spent this whole time sobbing
against my chest, then at Mr.  Parker, then back at Allie.  "Honey?" he
said finally.  Allie didn't look up, but I could feel her tense a little.
"Allie, did you pass this test on your own?"

   Allie sniffled one more time, then turned around to face her dad.  She
reached up with her hands and wiped tears away from her cheeks.  "So far,
Tony's the only one who asked that question.  And the only one to believe
me.  Daddy, I didn't cheat.  I studied!  I studied hard.  Tony worked with
me third period for four days.  He came over to the house Wednesday and
yesterday, and spent three hours of his own time trying to cram this stuff
into my brain.  And I worked on my own, making sure I understood what he
taught me.  I studied harder than I ever have before, and today I went into
that class ready to take that test.

   "And I did great.  I did so good, that Mr.  Singara called me a cheater,
tore up my test, and gave me an F.  I did so good, that Mr.  Parker called
me a cheater and told me I was lucky I wasn't being suspended.  I did so
good, that my mother is disappointed.  I can't understand why more kids
don't study."

   I grinned.  I didn't know Allie had the sarcasm in her.

   Clap!  Clap!  Clap!  Came from inside Mr.  Parker's office and Mr. 
Singara stepped out.  "That's a nice story young lady.  But I know you
cheated.  And your F stands.  And if you cheat in my class again, you fail
the entire course."

   "But what if she didn't cheat?" her dad said.

   "Oh, Daddy!" she wailed, turned, and ran out.  I nodded to Robbie and
she quickly followed.

   I looked back at the assembly of teachers and parents.  "It's nice to
know the constitution is alive and well here at good old..."

   Parker cut me off.  "You've caused enough problems, Mr.  Sims."

   "Free speech, too." Parker glared at me, and I wondered if I gone a step
too far without Robbie to keep me from getting suspended.

   "I'll be generous," Mr.  Singara said, with a smile for the parents. 
"She can take a new test on Monday."

   "Thank you, Mr.  Singara," Allie's mom gushed.  Her dad glanced
apprehensively at me.

   "But, since, right now, she's failing my class, she's off the
cheerleading squad until she brings that grade up."

   I opened my mouth, decided that there was no possible benefit to
anything I had to say, and closed it again.  In the words of that famous
sage, Quick Draw McGraw, I exited stage right.

   It had been a hell of a day, and it wasn't over yet.

   Robbie and Allie were sitting in front of some empty lockers.  I caught
Robbie's eye and motioned her toward an empty classroom.  She helped Allie
to her feet, and they disappeared just as the office door opened and
Allie's parents came out.

   "Where is she?" her mother asked sharply.

   "I think Robbie took her home." Not exactly a lie, just looking ahead
into the future.

   "She should be coming home with us."

   "Considering the support she gets there, I don't know why she ever
would."

   CRACK!  The sound of her hand slapping my face echoed down the empty
halls.

   "How dare you!  I have a good mind to call your mother and tell her just
how terrible you are."

   I stood without flinching though I knew there was a large red handprint
on the side of my face.  "I have my doubts about your good mind, but my
number is 555-3612.  My mother's usually home by now.  Feel free."

   I turned and walked away.  Behind me, I heard their footsteps get softer
as they went the other way.

   "C'mon, we don't have much time," I told the girls after I'd retraced my
steps to their classroom.

   "Where are we going?" Robbie asked, holding the still-sobbing Allie.

   "Mrs.  Wayne's room.  I'm hoping she's still here."

   We gathered up Allie and quick marched her down the hall to the other
end of the building.  As we walked in her classroom, Mrs.  Wayne was
gathering papers for an open briefcase.

   "I need a big favor," I said.

   "Tony, what are you still doing here?  Don't you have a game tonight?"

   "Yes ma'am.  And my time is ticking away."

   Mrs.  Wayne smiled.  "What's the favor?"

   "A math test."

   "A math test?" Allie, Robbie, and Mrs.  Wayne all said together.

   "Yes, ma'am.  Allie needs to take a test on chapters fourteen, fifteen
and sixteen of the beginning algebra book."

   "Do I have to do this now?" Allie whined.

   I turned to her and took her face in my hands, using my thumbs to wipe
tears from under her eyes.  "It's important."

   Allie sniffled and nodded.

   I looked back at Mrs.  Wayne, who said "Tony, I know you have a
reason..."

   "Yes, ma'am."

   She reached down and unlocked a drawer and started rummaging through her
files.  "Here."

   I stepped forward, took the paper, and laid it on a desk, then motioned
Allie to sit down.  She did, then looked up at me.  I smiled reassuringly,
then grabbed a pencil off Mrs.  Wayne's desk and handed it to her.

   "Do your best."

   She nodded, then looked down at the paper and started writing.

   "Would you do me three more favors?" I asked the confused math teacher.
She shrugged.  "Watch her take the test, then grade it.  And don't tell
anyone about this."

   Mrs.  Wayne's eyes got bigger, but she nodded.  "Should I start checking
the want ads?"

   I grinned, as I watched Allie's pencil move confidently across the page.
"Can't hurt."



   Chapter 23

   Friday night lights.

   That'd make a great title for a movie.  Damn, it's been done.

   The overhead lights were blazing as the team charged onto the field. 
The stands were packed.  This was probably our second toughest game on the
schedule.  The coach was hinting that we could go undefeated, and if we
beat the Tigers tonight, we'd be on our way.

   The team, lead by Larry and Jimmy, circled the field, then formed up in
the end zone for some calisthenics.  When it was over, we jogged to our
bench.  I grinned at Robbie.  "Wish me luck."

   "You're nuts, you know."

   "No, I just have this thing about doing what's right.  You know, once
there was this girl, and the coach wouldn't even let her play."

   Robbie's eyes misted, but she nodded.

   I trotted toward the stands.  Allie was sitting next to Tami on the
first row.  I went up the steps from the field and stood in front of them.
Tami stood and hugged me, hard to do with all my pads.  "You're sure?" she
whispered.

   "Never surer!" I gave her a quick kiss, then held out my hand to Allie.
"C'mon, we'll be late."

   "I can't go out there.  They won't let me cheer."

   "You're not going to cheer.  You're going to be inspirational." I took
her hand and -half-pulled her out on the field toward the team bench.  The
crowd quieted, sensing that something out of the ordinary was happening.

   I sat Allie on the bench, right in the middle.  "No matter what happens,
you don't leave without me."

   She nodded.

   "Promise?"

   "I promise," she said quietly, looking more confused than ever.  I stood
next to her and waited for the explosion.

   "What's she doing here?" the coach thundered when he saw her. 
"Cheerleaders belong over there," he said waving toward the space in front
of the grandstand.

   "She's not a cheerleader tonight.  She inspiration."

   "I don't care what you call your girlfriend.  You know the rule: only
players and coaches on the bench."

   "She's not my girlfriend.  My girlfriend is in the stands."

   "I don't care what she is.  She doesn't belong here."

   I stood up as tall as I could.  "She's staying coach."

   "Sims, I've had just about all your attitude I can..."

   Seven words.  I thought they'd be hard to say, so I'd practiced.  But
they slipped out easily.  "If she doesn't stay, I don't either."

   The coach looked like he'd been pole-axed "You're not that
indispensable."

   Robbie stepped up next to me.  "If Tony doesn't stay, I don't either."

   "I will not have the two of you tell me how to run my team."

   Larry Gordon and Jimmy Sexton stepped up next to Robbie.  "If she
doesn't stay, we don't either." I called them earlier and told them what I
was going to do.

   The referees were standing in the middle of the field with the captains
from the other team, looking impatient.  They were waiting for captains who
apparently had just quit.  The stands had grown real quiet as we stood
waiting.  I don't know whether they heard Paul when he said, "If they don't
stay, I don't either." But they saw him join the growing group facing off
against the coach.

   Mike stood off to the side watching.  "What the hell are you guys doing?
She's just a girl.  We don't need them," he said waving his arm toward us.
"Let's play football.  I'll go do the damn coin toss."

   We watched as Mike walked toward the center of the field.  Then, slowly,
every other member of the team joined us.

   The coach threw up his hands.  "Okay, she stays," Nobody cheered.  We
just nodded.  "Sims, you might as well sit next to her, you're done."

   Robbie started to protest, but I caught her eye and shook my head.  I
knew what I was doing when I started this.  And I'm smart enough to know
the consequences.  I'd led a mutiny.  They usually hang mutineers, not just
bench them.

   "You didn't have to do this," Allie said softly as the two teams lined
up for the kickoff.  Mike had won the toss and elected to receive.

   "Yes, I did," I told her.  Despite warming the bench, I felt very
satisfied with the world.  Robbie caught the kickoff on our twenty and
zigged and zagged to their forty.

   The teams lined up.  Mike took the hike, scrambled back, and looked for
a receiver.  The receivers were standing in their places waving at the
audience.  The front line had stood and were watching.  Six startled but
happy defenders rushed past and barreled toward Mike, who grounded the ball
before he could get hit.

   "What the hell?" The coach exploded.

   "Call a time-out," I suggested.

   The coach stared blankly.

   "Coach, we need a time-out," I implored.

   The coach made a T with his hands, and Mike called for the time-out.

   I rushed out onto the field as the team circled up.

   "What the fuck do you think you're doing!" I yelled, probably loud
enough that I'd hear about it later.  "I did not come out here to watch you
give away the game to a team we should beat in our sleep.  I don't care if
you think I should play," I said, staring at Robbie.  "Or if you think Mike
is a class A jerk." Mike looked like he wanted to protest, but, for once,
kept his mouth shut.

   "Get out there and play football, or go home and let somebody in the
game who will."

   I didn't bother waiting for anybody to say anything.  I ran off the
field.

   I'd love to tell you how the team tried its best but was losing until
the coach, in desperation, called me back into the game and I inspired them
to play their hearts out and win.  But unfortunately, or fortunately,
depending on your point of view, we dominated from the next play on.

   Mike threw three touchdowns and Robbie threw one.  Larry had the game of
his life, with three sacks, a fumble recovery, and an interception that he
ran the back sixty-four yards for a touchdown.  I sat on the bench and
watched, my arm around Allie and Tami's eyes boring into my back.

   "Do I want to ask why you spent the whole game on the bench?" Dad asked
when I got home in my nice clean uniform, Allie by my side.  Mom, Dad, and
Traci had been at the game, though I'd come home with Tami and her mom.

   "Something you haven't done since you were eleven," Mom added, looking
at Allie.

   "Successful mutiny," I muttered.  "We'll be back in a few." I took Allie
to my room for a talk, then out for a walk.

   "Do you think you want to tell us what's going on?" Mom asked, when I
came back alone.

   "Depends.  Would you buy, I'm tired and going to bed early?"

   "At nine on a Friday, before you've taken a walk with Tami?  Try again."

   So, I told them most of the story.  About helping Allie all week.  About
her taking the test and doing better than Singara thought she should. 
About her being thrown off the cheerleading squad, and my getting her on
the bench.  I just left out a couple of details, totally unimportant,
like...

   "Mom, there's a police car out in front," Traci said from the window.

   Like the fact that Allie's parents had no idea where she was.

   We were all looking at the door when the knock came.  Mom looked at me,
then dad, then me again.  Dad looked at me, then Mom, then me again.  Traci
just stared at me.  There was another knock.

   You know, for someone who doesn't like confrontations, I sure seem to
find them easily enough.  I walked to the door and opened it.  Deputy Boyd,
the cop who lived in the park, was standing there.  Allie's mom and dad
behind him.

   "Uh, Tony, I need to talk to you.  It's serious."

   Mom had stepped up behind me.  "What's the problem, Dan?"

   "Allie Smidt is missing.  Her parents seem to think that Tony knows
something about it."

   "He kidnaped her," her mom accused.

   "She was at the game," I volunteered, before Mom or Dad said something
about her being here.  "I was with her then." Even behind me, I could feel
Mom's eyes drilling into the back of my head.

   "Where is my baby?  I want her home?" Allie's mom wailed.

   "Did you ever think she doesn't want to come home?"

   "Tony, this is..." Deputy Boyd started

   "You fucking bastard.  What have you done with my baby?"

   I held out my hands to Deputy Boyd.  "You might as well slap the cuffs
on me and drag me to jail.  I'm done talking to this bitch."

   "Tony!  That's enough.  Apologize!"

   I considered 'I'm sorry you're a bitch', but decided that Mom was right.
I'd lost my temper and gone too far.  "I'm sorry, Mrs.  Smidt.  That was
inappropriate."

   "Now, let's sit down and figure this out," Mom said reasonably.

   While Mom was getting everyone settled, I gave Mr.  Smidt a note I'd
written when Allie and I were in my room.  I gave him the phone too.

   With Dad sitting in his chair, Mom on the arm, Deputy Boyd and Mrs. 
Smidt on the sofa, Traci in the other chair, and me standing in the center
of the living room, I felt like the Grand Inquisition was alive and well.

   "Tony, this is serious.  You might think you're helping a friend, but
Allie belongs at home," Deputy Boyd said, trying to calm the situation.  "I
know you didn't kidnap anyone, but it could be considered custodial
interference."

   I considered a nice diatribe about supporting their children, or maybe a
nice innocent-until-proven-guilty recitation.  But I went with a simple,
"Yes, sir."

   "Do you know where Allie is?"

   There are times when I wished lying came easy to me.  "Yes."

   "You need to tell us."

   All in all, a very reasonable request.  "No."

   "Tony, this has gone far enough," Dad sad.

   "Dan, she was here about half-an-hour ago." Mom volunteered.

   Damn!  I was hoping to keep that fact out of the equation.

   "Do you know where she is now?"

   "They took a walk and Tony came back without her.  I'm guessing, you'll
find her at Tami Sharp's." My mom, the traitor.

   "Tony, is that where she is?" the deputy asked.

   "I haven't seen her for fifteen minutes.  I don't know where she is," I
said stubbornly.  I had a good idea, but I didn't know.

   "Tony, did you leave Allie at Tami's?"

   Damn!  Mom had learned how to ask questions with minimum squirm room.  I
wondered how long I'd live by referencing the fifth amendment.  "No."

   "No?" I'd surprised her at least.

   "Isn't Paula Grey a cheerleader?  Maybe she's over there."

   Dad never ceases to surprise me.  I didn't even know, he knew who Paula
was, let alone that she was a cheerleader.

   "Tony," Mom started, and I felt another no-squirm question coming on.

   "Dan," Mr.  Smidt interrupted from the entryway.  "There's been a
mistake.  We're sorry to have wasted your time."

   "John, what?"

   "Annie, we're going home."

   "John?"

   "Annie, we're going home.  Now!"

   "Allie's okay?" the deputy asked, standing.

   "No." He walked up to me and handed me the phone and the note.  "But she
will be.  She's got good friends." He held out his hand and I shook it,
smiling tightly.

   Deputy Boyd watched us.  "Someday," he muttered, "I want a job with easy
questions.  Maybe astrophysics where all you have to do is figure out what
makes the universe tick."

   John Smidt faced him.  "Come on over for a beer sometime, and I'll tell
you a story about a kid who doesn't know how to stop being a hero."

   I felt my cheeks get hot.

   "But, John!"

   "Annie, get in the car." He looked at my parents.  "Sorry to have
bothered you.  That's quite a son you have there."

   A few seconds later they were gone.  I stood with Deputy Boyd at the
door and shook his hand.

   "Tony, it's always interesting.  At least this time I didn't need my
gun."

   "It's early yet," I said glancing at my parents.  "Want to stick around
and prevent a murder?" I asked in a low voice.

   Dan Boyd looked from me to my parents and back.  "They don't pay me
enough."

   I smiled and closed the door behind him.

   "What just happened?" Mom asked when I faced them again

   "I believe, that your son, Anthony Marion Harry Houdini Sims, just did
it again," Dad said with a stunned expression.

   "My son?"

   "He must get it somewhere.  I was never that good at getting out of
trouble."

   "Tony, you've got some explaining to do," Mom said stiffly.

   I handed Dad the note.  "Read this.  I need to get Allie."

   "She was at Paula's?" Dad asked before looking at the note.

   "Nope.  Kathy's."

   The first part of the note, I'd written on my computer and printed out.
At the top, I'd written in all caps.

   MR.  SMIDT

   PLEASE DO ME A FAVOR AND CALL MRS.  WAYNE AT 555-4910 AND ASK HER ABOUT
ALLIE'S MAKE-UP TEST BEFORE YOU READ THE REST OF THIS NOTE.

   A line of asterisks separated the rest of the text, and I continued in
regular case.

   Allie took a make-up test today because she refuses to take one from
Singara on Monday.  And even if she took it on Monday, he'd accuse her of
studying over the weekend and she'd still be branded a cheater.

   She shouldn't have had to take a make-up test anytime.  She was accused
without proof, based solely on doing better on the test than a
narrow-minded teacher thought she could.

   Allie Was Very Hurt That No One Considered for Even a Few Seconds That
She Was Not a Cheater.  A Teacher Said She Was, and Her Parents, Who Have
Known Her All Her Life and Should Know What Kind of Person She Is, Just
Accepted It, and Were, in Her Mother's Words, Very Disappointed.

   If You Will Take Advice from Just a Kid, Right Now, She Needs Some Space
and Some Time.

   Allie had written underneath,

   Please Daddy.

   I added one more note at the bottom:

   Admitting that you made a mistake and saying you're sorry couldn't hurt.

   I brought Allie back and settled her in my room before facing my parents
again.  "She's spending the night, if that isn't a problem."

   My parents looked at each other, then Mom shrugged.  "We've taken in
strays, why not a fugitive?"

   "You expected all this?" Dad asked.

   "The Smidts?  Yes.  The sheriff was a surprise."

   "I assume Allie passed her test?" Mom asked.

   "She got a ninety-four, two points higher than the test Singara said she
cheated on."

   "Now what?"

   "Now, I'm hoping for one peaceful day without a confrontation," I said
with a sigh.

   "Just one?" Dad asked.  "Why not try for two?"

   I shrugged."Cause Monday, I get suspended again."



   Chapter 24

   "So just how long are you planning to have a red-headed cheerleader
living in your room?"

   "I'll probably get tired of it by March, maybe April."

   From the look on Tami's face, she didn't appreciate my humor.

   "Tami, you ask a red-blooded American guy a question like that and what
do you expect?"

   Tami shrugged.  "What I got, I guess.  So how long does Allie plan to
live in your room?"

   "Actually, she moved out yesterday and into Traci's room.  They're
getting along great.  But I think she'll go home tonight or tomorrow.  She
had a long talk on the phone with her dad last night."

   "Did she talk to her mom?"

   I shook my head.  "Her mom evidently said that she was being a good mom
and had nothing to apologize for.  Allie says there's nothing else to talk
about."

   "That's sad."

   I nodded.

   "So, viva le revolucion?"

   I grinned.  "Viva le revolucion!"

   "Mrs.  Porter?"

   "Yes?"

   "I just wanted to say I think you're a good teacher."

   "Why thank you Tony."

   "And no matter what happens today, it's not about you, it's about the
school."

   Mrs.  Porter, who was twenty-four and as cute as any girl on the
cheerleading squad gave me a suspicious look.  "That sounds... 
interesting." She taught a double class of health.  Mr.  Wiltkins was
supposed to teach half the class, but he'd broken his leg a week before.

   "Could even be a good day for Mrs.  Jeffries to do classroom
observation."

   Mrs.  Porter's look got even more suspicious.

   "You have forty-five minutes.  Go!" Mrs.  Porter said.

   I stood, holding the three pages of the test in front of me.  "No."

   "Tony, what was that?"

   "I said, no.  I won't take this test.  Or any other test in this
school."

   That got everybody's attention.  Tami in the seat next to me, grinned up
and mouthed the words, "Viva le revolucion!"

   "Tony, I don't understand.  It's just a test.  You've taken dozen of
tests."

   "Hundreds." From the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs.  Jeffries and Mr. 
Parker along the wall, walking toward the front of the room.

   "Then why?"

   "I took tests when I thought I had a fair and equal chance of passing
them.  That was before I discovered that school policy was that any teacher
can call me a cheater and fail me on a whim."

   "That's enough!" Mr.  Parker said, stepping forward.

   "What, you don't want all the students to know that Mr.  Singara accused
Allie Smidt of cheating without any proof, and failed her?  You don't want
everyone to know that you upheld his decision, again without any proof?"

   I looked around the room, every face was on me.  "Do you really want to
take a test when Mrs.  Porter can decide you're cheating, just because she
doesn't like blondes, or tall kids, or whatever?"

   Robbie stood.  "I'm not taking any test where a teacher can call me a
cheater for no reason."

   I held my test paper in front of me and tore it neatly in two.

   "Mr.  Sims, Miss Tate, maybe we should discuss this in my office?" Mrs.
Jeffries offered.

   "Why bother?  You've made it clear in the past that you won't overrule a
subordinates's decision.  Mr.  Singara decided that Allie was cheating. 
Mr. Parker decided she was too.  You won't do anything.  Talking to you is
a waste of time."

   "Mr.  Sims, you've gone too far," Parker thundered.

   "Do you folks know what Allie's crime was?" I looked around at a sea of
shaking heads.  "She studied.  She wanted to do better, so she studied. 
And when she got a better grade than Singara thought she should, he tore up
her test in front of everyone and gave her an F.  Why take a test when a
so-called teacher in a bad mood can do that?"

   "Mr.  Sims, my office," Parker almost screamed.

   "I say, no more tests until we get a fair chance of passing them."

   "No more tests," Tami said in a chanting voice.

   "No more tests," Robbie added her voice to Tami's.

   That was all it took.  A second later fifty voices were chanting, "No
more tests.  No more tests."

   I grinned at Parker.  I'd never been suspended in September before.

   "You three are the ring-leaders.  I know it." Parker snarled.

   "But can you prove it?" I asked, just to be difficult.

   "I don't have to."

   God, I couldn't believe just how stupid you could be and still get a
master's degree and a job running a school.  "And that, is the problem."

   "Mr.  Sims, you can't just refuse to take tests." Mrs.  Jeffries said
reasonably.  We were sitting in her office.  They never had gotten the test
in health restarted.  Now it was second period, and I had a feeling that my
revolution was spreading.

   "And Mr.  Singara can't just call someone a cheater and fail her.  But
he did."

   "Why didn't you come to me with this problem?"

   "Because you're a figurehead.  You don't make decisions.  And, in your
own words, you make it a point never to overrule your subordinates.  I
already knew Mr.  Parker's opinion, so talking to you would be a waste of
time and breath."

   Mrs.  Jeffries' mouth worked, but nothing came out.

   "Twelve days, Mr.  Sims." Parker said.

   "Ah, the maximum.  Nice to know you're cracking down."

   Mrs.  Hatcher walked in the open door.  "Mrs.  Jeffries, I thought you
should know.  Mr.  Tatley just called, and so did Mrs.  Wayne.  Their
students are refusing to take any tests.

   "Oh, God!" Jeffries muttered.

   Parker just glared at me.

   "Interesting situation, we have here," I said, just to make small talk.

   "I don't know what you think you're doing..." Parker started.

   "Oh, this is just phase one.  Phase two is a lot more fun."

   "Phase two," Mrs.  Jeffries stammered.  "What's phase two?"

   "This." I reached into my backpack and pulled out a mockup of the front
page of the school paper.  The headline, nice and bold, read STUDYING A
WASTE OF TIME.  The article stated that school teachers and administrators
had decided that studying was ineffective, that students could not better
themselves by studying.  It was a masterpiece.  Tami had done it again.

   Parker grabbed the paper out of my hand and scanned the article and
handed it to Mrs.  Jeffries.  "We're not going to print that."

   "I know.  You have no interest in printing the truth.  That was just a
mockup.  That's why it's going to the paper in Seattle." I reached into my
backpack again and pulled out a large envelope, already stamped and
addressed.  "Personally, I think they'll love it."

   Parker grabbed that out of my hands too.  He grinned and holding it out
in front of him, slowly ripped it in half.

   If you ever played baseball, and if you were any good, you know the
feeling.  The feeling of swinging the bat, and knowing, even before it
connected with the ball, that the ball was going the distance.  I had that
feeling as I watched the envelope rip.

   I leaned back in my chair, resisting the urge to put my feet on the edge
of the desk, and smiled.

   Parker looked at me, confused.  "What are you so happy about?"

   It was like the old Mission: Impossible shows where the crew started
pulling off their masks, but the bad guy hadn't quite realized he'd been
had.  "Mrs.  Hatcher, Mrs.  Jeffries, I'll need you to sign statements
about what you just witnessed."

   "Witnessed?  Nothing happened," Parker said.

   "Robbie, synonyms for a thousand, a communication in a stamped addressed
envelope?"

   "What would be mail, Alex."

   "Mrs.  Hatcher, would you mind getting the FBI on the phone?  Tampering
with the mail is a federal offense, and we all just witnessed a crime."

   "That's ridiculous," Parker said, less than convincingly.  The look on
his face was close to the one in the show when the villain knew he'd been
had.

   "And Mrs.  Hatcher, you might want to let Mr.  Mulino know that he'll be
needing a new vice principal for two to five years.

   I looked at Robbie on my left, put my forefinger on my nose and flicked
it forward.  Then I looked at Tami on my right and did it again.  Both
girls grinned and repeated the gesture we'd borrowed from The Sting.

   "What do you want, Tony?" Mulino asked from behind his desk.

   "You really don't want to know, sir." Allie, Tami, Robbie, and I were in
an empty classroom with our parents, Mr.  Mulino, Mrs.  Jeffries, and Mr.
Parker.

   "But I do, Tony.  I do." Mr.  Mulino looked tired.

   "I want Allie to get the grade she deserves on her test, unless Mr. 
Singara can prove she cheated."

   Mulino looked at me, then behind me to where Singara was leaning against
a wall.  "Mr.  Singara, do you have any proof that Miss Smidt cheated?"

   "No, but her grade..."

   "Fine, Allie you get a ninety-two.  With the grading curve, I believe
that's an A.

   "Anything else?" he asked, looking back at me.

   "I want Allie transferred to Mrs.  Wayne's class, where she can actually
learn something."

   "I will not stand here and be insulted by a..."

   Mulino gave Singara a hard look.  "Do you really want to finish that
sentence?"

   Behind me, I heard silence.

   "And I think a public apology would be in order."

   "I agree," Mr.  Mulino said before Singara could object.  "Anything
else?"

   I grinned, I knew what he was expecting.  "No, sir."

   Mr.  Mulino looked stunned.  "You're not going to demand that we fire
Mr. Parker?"

   I shrugged.  "Why bother, you won't do it.  We both know that the FBI
isn't going to prosecute Parker for ripping up a letter.  Technically, it
was a federal crime, but they won't bother.  All we can do is get a lot of
bad publicity for our school.  The whole situation will be front page, and
the NEA and the Washington education association will be in the awkward
position of having to defend a teacher who basically feels that studying
hard doesn't work."

   "I never said that," Singara challenged.

   I turned around in my desk and looked at the so-called teacher.  "But
you decided that Allie couldn't have achieved that grade without cheating.
Maybe you're not against studying.  Maybe you just think cheerleaders are
stupid.  Or women."

   "I never..."

   I looked back at Mr.  Mulino.  "If Mr.  Parker is going to be in charge
of discipline, and Mrs.  Jeffries refuses to properly oversee him, it would
be nice if he would at least pretend to investigate both sides of a
situation." I looked over at Parker and smiled.  He glared.

   I stood.  "Now if you'll excuse me.  I'm suspended for the next twelve
days."



   Chapter 25

   "What's the problem, dude?" Larry asked as I slipped my shoulder pads
over my head.

   "Just wondering if I'm wasting my time."

   "Ya lost me," Larry said, pulling on his jersey.

   "Well, you may have noticed that I got a little less playing time than
usual on Friday."

   "Yeah, I noticed.  But you did have one shining moment." Larry put his
hands on his hips and screwed up his face.  "What the fuck do you think
you're doing!" he said in a passable imitation of me.  "My dad said he
heard you clear as day, and he was sitting halfway up the stands.  Said it
was downright inspirational.  It reminded him of the good old days, playing
tackle for Oklahoma.  Of course, almost everything reminds him of the good
old days, playing tackle for Oklahoma."

   I grinned.  Then frowned.  "I'm just wondering if I'm still on the
team."

   "Of course you are.  We won't let him can ya.  We got Allie on the
bench, didn't we?"

   I smiled, thinking of Larry and the team standing up for me.  And Mike
saying, 'What do we need him for?'

   "No!"

   "What do you mean no?  We didn't get Allie on the bench?"

   "No, I mean, if the coach wants to sack me, you let him."

   "I don't get you."

   "Larry, Branson's a good coach, a little hard-headed a times, but a good
coach.  If we push him too far, we lose football.  We've got a good team
this year.  No, a great team.  I'm not going to be the reason that we sit
the rest of the season out."

   "It won't come to that."

   "It could.  How would you like to coach a team where the players kept
over-ruling you."

   "Okay, you got a point.  But we can't just let you get dumped.  You're
the star."

   I grinned, that felt good.

   "No, Mike Reed's the star, and you and Robbie are the money players.  I
just show up and try to look good for the girls." I pulled my jersey on,
and Larry slapped me on the back.  "Promise me you won't let anybody do
anything stupid."

   Mike nodded.

   "Especially Robbie."

   "Monster Girl's going to do what she wants.  But I'll try."

   I slapped him on the back and we headed for the field.

   Robbie was waiting for me outside.  Larry tossed me a salute and started
jogging.

   "You ready for this?" she asked.

   "Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more into the breach."

   "My, you're getting literary."

   "Ain't I?"

   "But this isn't the Charge of the Light Brigade, and you don't have
cannons to the left of you and cannons to the right.  Just a coach in
front."

   I figured literary had worked so far.  If I couldn't be a jock, I'd be a
geek.  "T'will do, t'will suffice."

   "Mercutio now.  You do have pretensions."

   "Tony, over here."

   I picked up my helmet and trotted to the coach.

   He'd called me Tony.

   He never called me Tony.  He always called me Sims.

   This was either a very good sign or a very bad one.

   "Yes, Coach." We were on the opposite side of the field from the team.
We'd just finished calisthenics, and Mr.  Vickers, one of the assistant
coaches, was giving everybody their assignments.

   "Tony, do we have a problem?"

   Damn, that was a loaded question if I ever heard one.  Of course we had
a problem.  I led a mutiny of his team and he benched me.

   "Not me, Coach.  Not a care in the world.  I fought all my battles this
morning."

   "Yeah, I heard about your battles.  It's a good thing I wasn't giving
any tests today."

   "I planned it that way."

   "Uh huh," he said, shaking his head.  "Tony, I'm glad Mr.  Mulino
decided not to suspend you.  We need you on the team."

   "Thanks, Coach.  In that case, I want a private dressing room, a raise,
and two cheerleaders to rub my shoulders between plays."

   "I'll give you a boot in the ass," he growled.  "Now get out there and
throw the football."

   "Yes, Coach," I said grinning.  "Right away, Coach."

   I was back.

   "Ladies and gentlemen!" Robbie shouted over the din.  "In case you don't
know him," she continued in her normal voice as everyone quieted down,
"this is our star, who missed all our rehearsals last week because he
thought that just because this is a school, math is more important.  And
who almost missed the next twelve rehearsals because he was busy leading a
revolution."

   There was a loud cheers, and suddenly all the girls were kissing me and
the guys were slapping me on the back.  Darlene and Diana Coleson were both
tasty.  And Mikee, Tami, and Robbie were nice distractions, too.  Allie,
who'd come to watch, grinned at me from next to the wall.

   "Okay, here's the plan.  Today, we'll continue to block out our scenes."
She gave me a piecing look, "Which will be easier now that the guy who's in
almost every scene is here."

   "Sorry, Chief," I apologized, then winked at Allie.

   "Tomorrow and Wednesday our band is here, and we'll work on the songs
all night.  Thursday we get our turn to use the stage, so we'll finish
blocking.  And Friday..."

   "We get the night off, since you and Tony have a game in Wenatchee,"
Darlene finished for her.

   "Bossy, isn't she," I said to no one in particular.

   Robbie looked at the ceiling and waved her hands.

   Why are girls always beseeching deities when they're around me.  A guy
could get a complex.