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 66

   Saturday, I passed my drivers test with ease.  I got a ninety-nine, and
I still say I checked my sideview mirror before I merged left.  Mr.  Gates,
the guy from DMV, was nice and professional about the whole thing.

   Mom let me celebrate by using her mini-van all day.  I took Kelly to see
Mrs.  Fletcher, then later, I took her and her sister, Zoe, Tami, and Traci
to a movie.

   Sunday a pick-up showed up out front.  It belonged to a friend of dad's,
and he was letting me use it.  It was older than Traci and pretty beat up,
but I had wheels.

   I took Zoe for a long drive.  We found several secluded spots to test on
dark nights.  Her mom still wasn't thrilled about Zoe going out with a
sixteen-year-old.  She might be a freshman, but she'd skipped a grade and
was only thirteen.  But so far, her mom hadn't said I couldn't see her.

   Monday, I drove to school for the first time.  The cab was a little
crowded with Traci, Zoe, and Tami.  Robbie decided she'd rather take the
bus.

   That afternoon I tracked down Larry and Jimmy before gymnastics.

   "Guys, I need a favor."

   "Anything, for our second favorite sophomore," Larry said with a grin.

   "Second favorite?"

   "Robbie's cuter," Jimmy explained.  "What do you need?"

   "Who do you know who deals drugs?"

   I knocked, and Zoe answered the door before the echo died.  At least she
wasn't the type to keep a guy waiting on general principle.

   "Wow!" was all I could think of to say.  She was wearing a long dress in
the palest pink I'd ever seen.  Her shoulders were bare, and her hair was
done up in some kind of bun arrangement that left her neck naked.  The
whole effect made her seem too mature for me.

   "You clean up nice yourself," she said.  I was just wearing jeans and a
dark blue sport shirt.

   "All I can say is I'm glad Hershey and Hallmark invented this holiday."

   Zoe giggled.  "They didn't invent Valentine's."

   "Are you sure?"

   Mrs.  Morganthal's face was a study in contrasts.  Proud of her little
girl and how beautiful she looked, nervous about her going to a dance,
worried cause Zo had missed school today because she hadn't been feeling
well, and apprehensive cause a handsome sixteen-year-old was taking her
daughter out.

   Being the considerate guy I am, I decided to put her mind at ease. 
"We'll be home by five.  Six at the latest."

   Zoe giggled.  "He's kidding.  We'll be home by midnight," she said
quickly before her mom could explode.

   I smiled and gave her mom a half-bow.  "Actually, it's a short dance
since it's a school night.  We'll be back by eleven."

   Mrs.  Morganthal looked like she wasn't sure whether to be relieved or
banish me for life, so I took Zoe's hand and we made a quick getaway.

   Considering how classy Zoe looked, I thought about asking Dad for the
keys to his Porsche.  He'd made a comment yesterday about me owning more of
it than he did, which wasn't true cause of the trade-in on his old car, but
sounded good.  But I decided the truck was mine, for a couple of months
anyway.

   We went into the house so that I could show off Zoe to Mom and Dad. 
They oohed and aahed appropriately.  Traci's face was another study in
contrasts.  On the one hand, she thought Zoe looked beautiful, on the
other, she was annoyed at me because it wasn't Tami, and on the third hand,
she was mad at the world cause the middle school wasn't having a
Valentine's dance since it was a school night.

   In front of the house, I opened the truck door for Zoe, then kissed her.
I helped her in, copping a quick feel of her butt, then kissed her.  I
closed the door, went around and got in behind the wheel, and kissed her.

   "Maybe we should skip the dance and go test out some of those secluded
spots we found," I suggested.  I was leering suggestively, but in the dark
truck, she couldn't see.

   "If you think I got this dressed up to sit in the dark, you're nuts.  I
want everyone to see me."

   I started the pickup.  "And they shall."

   The dance had a good turn-out.  I thought being on a Monday night it
might be dead.  Robbie was there with Mike Rose.  I liked Mike, but I had a
feeling his days were numbered.  Mikee was with a freshman boy I'd seen
around but didn't know.  Ted something, I think.

   Allie surprised me.  She was there with Jason Kent.  Jason wasn't a
jock, he was a nerd.  Speech team, debate team, honor society, the works.
He was a pretty nice guy, though a bit hung up on his IQ.  He'd tested out
at one thirty-seven.  Three points below genius.  I'd never bothered
telling him that I tested higher.

   Personally, I don't think kids should know their IQs.  It causes
problems.  When I'd first learned mine, I found myself looking at my
teachers and wondering about theirs and why I should listen if I was
smarter than they were.  I'd gotten over it.  Mostly.

   Tami was there with Ricky.  She was wearing a blue dress she'd worn
before, but looked incredible anyway.  Ricky looked proud enough to burst,
as the saying goes.  I was glad that Tami had come, though if Ricky touched
her, I was going to break all his fingers.

   Even Kenny was there, and for once with a girl.  Suzie Donaldson.

   I danced the first three songs with Zoe, then one with Allie while Zoe
took a breather on the sidelines.  The band was a local one, OverAchievers,
and I was surprised how good they were.  I was also surprised, and maybe a
little jealous, when they asked Robbie to come up and sing.  She did two
songs, I Hope You Dance and the Stevie Wonder classic, I Just Called to Say
I Love You.  Stevie would have been proud.  Zoe and I sat and listened.

   The band started a slow one, and Zoe and I went out again.  It felt nice
just to hold her, her head resting on my shoulder and just sway to the
music.

   "Miss Morganthal." I discovered that it wasn't just Parker saying my
name that was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

   "Mr.  Parker," she and I acknowledged together.

   "Do you think it's appropriate to miss school, then come to an
after-school event?"

   "Yep," I answered before Zoe could say anything.  "Especially when she
has a three point five grade average." I smiled.  "Or is it three six?" I
added with a sideways look at Zoe.

   "I didn't want your opinion," Parker said dryly.

   "Maybe if you ever bothered to care about anybody's opinion, the school
would be a better place." I noticed that most of the couples around us had
stopped dancing and were watching the show.

   "Is there a problem here?" Mrs.  Jeffries asked before Parker could
answer me.

   "Nothing that couldn't be solved by non-dancers getting off the floor,"
I told her.

   "Once again, Sims seems to think that the rules don't apply to him or
his friends," Parker said.

   "When he's right, he's right," I agreed, took Zoe in my arms and started
to dance.

   "Don't you ignore me!" Parker thundered.  The band stopped playing and
everybody stopped dancing and stared.  "The dance is only for students who
bothered to attended school today.  You don't belong here."

   I wasn't sure whether he was talking about Zoe, me, or both of us.  I
stopped dancing, looked at him and Jeffries and grinned.  "The man's right,
we don't.  "Let's go make out." I took Zoe's hand and headed for the main
door.

   If I'd ever wanted eyes in the back of my head, now was the time.  I
would have loved to have seen Parker's face as we made our exit.

   I pulled back and looked at Zoe.  "You know, you might want to have
those tonsils out.  They feel inflamed."

   Zoe cocked her head and looked at me.  "You couldn't feel my tonsils."

   I grinned at her in the darkened truck.

   "You couldn't?"

   I leaned forward and kissed her again, my tongue continuing it's
explorations.  I held her with one arm while my other hand caressed her
breast.  I hadn't broken her of the bra habit yet and could just barely
feel a hard little nipple beneath my palm.

   "I'm so happy," she said a minute later.

   "I aim to please," I said and started kissing her neck and shoulder.

   Have you ever watched somebody and known the second they made a
decision? I didn't see Zoe make a decision, I felt it through her body as I
was kissing her shoulder.

   She pulled back a little and looked at me.  "You...  you can make love
to me."

   I was surprised, but recovered quickly.  "Nope." I scooted to her and
started kissing her shoulder again.

   "You don't want to?" I could her every iota of teenaged self-doubt in
her voice.  "You made love to Tami."

   "What I did or didn't do with Tami has nothing to do with us.  Every
relationship is different.  We have to find our own path."

   "You don't want to!" she accused again.

   I looked up at her and kissed her nose.  "It's not that I don't want to,
it's that you're not ready."

   "But I am."

   I kissed her other shoulder.  "I don't think so.  Besides, I don't want
your first time to be in an old pickup truck."

   "But I thought..."

   "Are you in a hurry 'cause you want to, or because you think I do?"

   "I guess..."

   I smiled and kissed her gently on the lips.  "Not every guy can't wait."
Big Tony jerked in my pants to remind me what a liar I was.

   I kissed her again.  "When you're ready..." I left the rest unsaid.



   Chapter 67

   Friday, Tami and I left school about one-thirty to drive to the middle
school, so we missed all the excitement.

   Deputy Boyd showed up about half-an-hour later with the county's drug
dog, Boomer.  They went straight to a locker in the south hall, where
Boomer got real excited.

   Mr.  Parker showed up and said the locker was unoccupied.  He opened it
up, and they found almost half a pound of marijuana and some real other
nasty stuff.  Felony amounts of crack and meth.  They also found eight
hundred dollars and Kenny's wallet.

   Everybody said that when they were leading Kenny away, his hands cuffed
behind his back, he was complaining that all he had was a couple of ounces
of grass.

   Johnny Dempsey, the entrepreneur that Jimmy and Larry had told me about,
never mentioned a visit from three pissed off football players who
confiscated his entire stock and cash.  In fact, he decided that he'd
learned all he could and dropped out.

   Mikee never mentioned borrowing Kenny's wallet and giving it to me.  In
fact, she never mentioned it again.

   And Deputy Boyd never did figure out where the unsigned e-mail about the
locker came from.  You gotta love those anonymous remailers.

   But Tami and I missed all that as we got on a bus with the gymnastics
team and headed for Wenatchee.

   Nothing exciting ever happens when I'm around.

   "Ladies!"

   The girls rushed to line up.  "Team all ready to yelled at, boss!"
Stephy said a few seconds later with a snappy salute.

   I glanced at Tami and Miss Calloway beside me, then popped off a salute
of my own, British style.  I always thought that was classier, click the
heels together and salute palm outward.  "At ease."

   Damn if they didn't assume a passable version of parade rest.

   I smiled.  "No yelling.  I just wanted to say that you guys were
awesome, and I was wrong."

   "Wrong?" several of them mumbled looking confused.

   "Wrong!  Miss Kelly, how many teams at districts?"

   Kelly stepped forward and saluted.  "Seven boss.  Including us."

   "That would be correct.  And Miss Traci how did our team place?

   Traci stepped forward as Kelly got back into line.  Her salute would not
have passed muster at West Point, but in the Wenatchee Middle School gym it
was okay.  "We didn't get a trophy, so we weren't in the top three. 
Seventh?" I shook my head.  "Sixth?" I shook it again.  "Fifth?" I nodded.

   "And Miss Stephy, if there were seven teams and we came in fifth, what
does that mean?"

   "We beat somebody?" She said without stepping forward.  "We beat two
somebodies," she added more definitely.

   "So, I was wrong 'cause I said we wouldn't beat any..."

   I didn't get to finish as the girls broke ranks and rushed forward to
hug Tami, Miss Calloway and me.  I even got some more kisses.

   I was lying in bed in the motel room, wondering if I could talk Kelly
into visiting.  The problem was, Kelly was rooming with Susie.  I thought
about giving Stephy those spankings I owed her, and damn if Big Tony didn't
second the idea by jerking upright.  But Stephy was rooming with Maria.

   I lifted my right hand and looked at it.  'Guess it's just you and me
again, ' I thought.  At least my imagination had plenty of fodder. 
Seventy-some-odd girls running around in skimpy leotards, and there were
maybe three I wouldn't touch with the proverbial ten-foot-pole.  The rest
were very touchable.

   I was thinking of one little blond pixie in particular and rubbing the
crotch of my jeans when there was a knock on the door.

   "What are you doing here?" I almost shouted as I open the door.

   Zoe grinned.  "With a greeting like that, I'm not sure."

   "It's not that.  It's just, I mean, what are you doing here?"

   "I came to watch my boyfriend's team win."

   "We didn't win."

   "From the celebration you guys were having in the gym, nobody would know
it."

   I grinned.  It's not often you see that much excitement for fifth place.
"But, how did...  You were there?"

   "I was in the bleachers with your mom and dad."

   "You didn't tell me," I accused.  "You didn't come down."

   "I figured I'd let the team have there moment."

   "But how did you get here?" I still couldn't believe it.

   "I came down with your folks."

   "Remind me to get them something real nice for mother's day and father's
day."

   Zoe pouted and turned her head to the side, widening her eyes and
looking about four years old.  "But now I have a problem."

   "And what's your problem?"

   "Well, my mom thinks I'm spending the night with Traci.  But Traci's
sharing a room with Rachel."

   "Yes."

   "And your folks think I'm sharing with Tami, but she's in with Miss
Calloway."

   "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive."

   "I have no place to stay," she said, sticking her lip further out to
make her pout bigger.

   "That IS a problem.  I was talking to the desk clerk when we checked in,
and the motel is booked solid.  I think he said there's a flea-bag motel
about a mile down the road."

   Zoe nodded resignedly, "That's too bad, cause I'm ready and that..." she
pointed at my bed behind me, "doesn't look like the front seat of a
pickup."

   I have few real talents, but one is the ability to take a hint.  Well,
most of the time.  I pulled her inside and closed the door.  I scooped her
up, carried her to the bed, and fell across it, Zoe in my arms.

   I kissed her several times, then kissed her throat, then the spot just
below where her Adam's apple would be if she were a boy.  Damn I was glad
she wasn't a boy.

   I unbuttoned the top button of her shirt.  "Your mom thinks I'm too old
for you."

   "I know," she said as I kissed the newly revealed skin.

   "She thinks I'm more sophisticated and experienced." I unbuttoned the
next button.

   "I know."

   I kissed the spot just above the beginning of her breasts.  "She thinks
I'm a guy and guys only want one thing." I unbuttoned another button.

   "I know."

   Damn, another bra.  Did her parents own stock in Playtex or Victoria's
Secret or something?  I kissed the clasp that held the two cups together.
"Your mother's right." I unfastened the clasp.

   "God, I hope so."

   I kissed the base of her cleavage, then gently lifted one cup away from
her breast and started kissing up the slope as I unbuttoned the last three
buttons.  "You should listen to your mother," I said just before my mouth
enveloped her nipple.

   "I will, I will," she promised as I teased at her areola with my lips
and her nipple with my tongue.

   I kissed her nipple.  "Boys are evil.  All we want is to get your
clothes off." I separated her shirt and pulled the bra cup off her other
breast.

   "Mama was right," she agreed as I leaned down to plant kisses all over
her other breast.  I put my hand on her thigh just below her crotch.  "Mama
is always right," she said as she reached down with both hands and pulled
my hand onto her crotch.

   I gave her a quick squeeze, and I think she had her first orgasm.  But
it sure wasn't going to be her last.

   "Mama never told me about that," she said a minute later as I unbuttoned
her jeans and pulled them off.

   "And what would you have done if she had?" There were a pair of big pink
lips on the crotch of her panties.  I took that as an invitation.  I
crawled between her legs and kissed them.

   "Not wasted all that time running away from boys in kindergarten."

   I peeled down her panties and kissed the real lips underneath.  I looked
up her body at her, "We don't have to do this."

   "Oh, yes, we do," she said and pulled my face back into her crotch.

   I pulled her legs wider apart, then separated her pussy lips with my
thumbs and resumed my kissing.  Her back arched, and she shuddered with
another orgasm.  I'd say this girl was more than ready.

   I lay beside her and waited for her to return to this reality.

   "Are you going to fuck me?" she asked several minutes later.

   "Is that what you want?"

   "Is it going to be like that?"

   "Better, I hope." Considering I hadn't even gotten in her pussy yet.

   "Nothing could be better than that."

   I kissed her gently.  "Let's find out.

   I undressed, then got between her legs.  I gave Zo the spiel about pain
and discomfort and explained about her hymen, since I didn't know if the
girl's health classes got into the mechanics of devirginization.

   I made a point of her watching as I rolled a rubber onto Big Tony.  I'm
glad she didn't ask why I had a box with me, since I hadn't planned to see
her that weekend.  In truth, I hadn't been with anybody since I started
going with Zo, but in the back of my mind, I'd thought that Kelly might
need some more comforting.  It was entirely altruistic.

   I could tell that I scared her a little, but she still wanted to go on
with it.  I leaned forward, letting Big Tony rub against her pussy.  The
little minx was wet, I'll say that for her.  I leaned on one elbow as I
positioned my head against those sensitive lips of hers.  She shuddered.  I
pushed forward, separating the outer lips and she moaned.  I kissed her
gently and tried to slide into her just barely, but without warning, she
grabbed my hips and pulled me down hard.

   I felt the slight resistance as my cock tore through the thin membrane
of her maidenhead.  I imagined I could feel the warm blood envelope my
cock. But between her natural lubrication and the warmth of her love
tunnel, I knew it was just imagination.

   Beneath me, Zoe whimpered.  I rolled to my back, bringing her with me,
my cock still impaling her.  "Shhhhushhhh.  Just relax," I cooed into her
ear.

   "It hurts.  I don't want to be a baby."

   "There's nothing baby about it.  There are ten year-olds who don't feel
a thing." I tried to remember how old Kelly had been that first time.  "But
there's twenty-somethings who cry and scream.  Just remember that everybody
is different.  Give your body a chance to get used to the invader inside
it."

   Big Tony jerked, and Zoe moaned.  I just held her and wondered if she'd
really been ready for this.  While I was holding her, there was a knock on
my door, and she and I both froze.  I heard a lot of young voices outside
and figured the entire team must be out there.  I glanced at the clock. 
Just a few minutes after nine.

   "He must have gone for a walk," I heard Tami say.

   "Knowing my brother," Traci said, "he figured out what room those high
school gymnasts were in." The rest all laughed.  One of the teams had
brought their high school counter-parts to do a group demonstration while
we were waiting for the final results.

   "That's okay." Stephy's voice, I was pretty sure.  "We'll get ice cream
without him." The voices moved down the hall.

   I looked up at Zoe.  "Damn.  Because of you, I missed ice cream."

   It was such a stupid thing to say, Zoe started laughing, and didn't seem
able to stop.  And as she laughed, she rubbed against my cock deep inside.
I could tell she was still having some discomfort, but some of the good
stuff was starting to come through too.

   "What do you think, girl, shall we take a vow of chastity?  Never do
this again?"

   "I..." She moved experimentally.  "Don't..." She lifted about two inches
off my pelvis, then pushed back again.  "Think..." She tried again, this
time three inches.  "So." I could tell she was still feeling some pain, but
she was also feeling a cock rub against all those sensitive nerve endings.

   I stayed still and let Zoe experiment with the new sensations.  As I lay
there, I thought about first times.  There'd been a lot of them.  Tami. 
Robbie.  Mikee.  Kelly.  Now, Zoe.  They'd all been different.  All
special.

   Five girls in three years.  No, Tami had been in July of o-two.  Just a
bit over two-and-a-half years.  I wondered if I was becoming a first-time
fetishist.  I wondered if the Guinness People kept track of things like
this.  Maybe I could paint little cherries over my headboard.

   Zoe was starting to moan again, but this time I didn't think it was
pain. If the team girls had showed up now, they'd really have had something
to talk about.

   Zoe collapsed on top of me, breathing hard.  I gently stroked her back,
Big Tony still at attention and buried inside her.  "How do you feel?" I
whispered.

   "It still hurts a little," she admitted.  But the good feeling is...  I
can't describe it."

   "Sounds like we're doing something right."

   "Am I?  Am I okay?"

   "You're fantastic," I assured her.

   Big Tony, still at attention and waiting his turn, might not agree, but
despite what most girls think, guys don't always think with that head.

   No, really.



   Chapter 68

   Grounded.

   Sent to my room like a two-year-old.

   I couldn't believe it as I paced back and forth.

   For the record: the bedrooms in mobile homes are not designed for
pacing. Not when you have furniture in them anyway.

   It had been a good week until this morning.  Last Saturday, we'd had
girls in every event.  Miranda had surprised herself by making the finals
on beam, then surprised herself again by finishing forth.  Stephy took
second on floor and Kelly fourth on bars.  But the big news was that Traci
made the finals on vault.  She finished twelfth, but she made the finals.
That may not sound impressive, but when you consider where we started...

   One of the best things about the week was, I had nothing to do.  I mean,
other than school.  Gymnastics was over and baseball didn't start till the
twenty-eighth.  I could come home and do nothing.  Not that I came home,
cause I was mobile.

   After school, Zoe and I would jump in the truck and explore our little
corner of the world in a way we never could before.  It was like... 
freedom.

   Then Wednesday, Dad got his job back.  Actually, he got a new job.  His
old boss, Bill Miller, hadn't been able to replace him, so the state
personnel department gave him the authority to hire an outside consultant.
Bill hired Dad.

   They set it up so that he would tele-commute, working from home most of
the time, with his computer tied into the state's network.  A couple of
times a month, he'd have to go to Olympia, but the state would pay for his
hotel, his meals, and everything.  He wasn't getting the benefits he had as
an employee, but Dad figured with the extra pay, after paying his own
insurance and pension, he was still making twenty per cent more than he had
before.  And the best part was, he had a five-year contract, which got
Traci almost through graduation.

   Dad decided he'd get a small office in town.  When he was looking for
work, he'd found several small companies that could have used a strategic
planner, but couldn't afford a full time one.  Now that Dad was going to be
a consultant, he figured he could do deals with them too.  Besides, the
office would be tax-deductible.

   Thursday, the world got even brighter for my main man.  The Unemployment
Department had their hearing and decided that Dad qualified for benefits,
since his job left him.  They told him he'd be getting a check for all
those months within ten days.

   Then Friday, I got to see Mom in action.  We'd had the insurance on the
mortgage and the Porsche that was supposed to make the payments if Dad lost
his job.  But when the Employment Department denied him, the insurance
companies did too.  I got to watch Mom on the phone as she explained that
the Employment Department had reversed themselves and that if didn't have a
check in her hands within five days, she'd be filing complaints with the
state insurance commission.  And if the checks weren't there in ten days,
we'd see them in court where they could pay costs and additional for the
inconvenience.  If lawyer wasn't a dirty word in our family, Mom would have
made a good one.

   All-in-all, a great week.  Until I got up this morning about ten, stuck
my head in the living room, and was told to go back to my room.  I was
grounded.

   There was a knock.

   "Come in."

   Zoe opened the door.  "Your mom said I could have two minutes."

   "That's something," I muttered.

   She closed the door behind her, and I pulled her close and kissed her.

   "Mmmmm that was nice," she said.  "What did you do?"

   "Not a clue," I said, shaking my head.

   "No, really."

   I shrugged.  "I don't know why I've been banished."

   Zoe looked over her shoulder at the closed door, nervously.  "You don't
think it's about us?"

   I smiled, hopefully, reassuringly.  "I doubt it.  You wouldn't be in
here if it was."

   "Time's up!" Mom called from somewhere out front.

   I kissed her one more time.

   "Any idea when you'll be out?" she asked, putting her hand on the
doorknob.

   "Since I don't even know why I'm in..." I shrugged.

   Zoe smiled encouragingly and left.

   I paced.

   Traci knocked and stuck her head in about one.  "Mom wants you outside,"
she said quickly and left.  I figured it was the leper syndrome.  She
didn't want to catch guilt by association.

   I took a deep breath.  Maybe I'd at least find out what I was in trouble
for.

   I opened the front door and looked outside.  Mom and Dad were standing
in front of the Porsche in the driveway.  They didn't look happy.  Mom
looked up when she heard the door.

   "Do you think this is appropriate?" she asked.  Actually she barked. 
Definitely an open-ended loaded question.

   "Uh..."

   "What if your dad wanted to leave?"

   They're getting a divorce and it's all my fault?  "I..."

   "You're going to have to do something about it." Why is it, parents
either give you too much information or not enough?

   "I will?"

   Dad laughed.  Mom shot him a dirty look, then started laughing too.  I
watched them, wondering if the stress of Dad's unemployment had knocked
them both off the deep end.

   "Your car is blocking your dad in," Mom managed to choke out as she
laughed.

   My car?  I parked the pickup behind Mom's van in front of the trailer. I
looked at the end of the driveway.  Behind Dad's Porsche was a dark blue
Mustang convertible.  The top was down, and it was filled with girls. 
Kelly, and Zoe were in the front passenger seat.  Mikee, Traci and Tami in
the back.

   "Where did that come from?" I asked, open-mouthed.

   "Detroit, I think," Dad stammered, still laughing.  "Your face!" He bent
over double laughing.

   I knew I'd been had.

   "It was your sister's idea," Mom said, still laughing.  "She said
something about Monopoly night and payback."

   I jumped off the porch.  "I sure hope she has a quarter," I said walking
to the car.  I put my hand on the passenger side hood and walked around the
front.  It was perfect.  Just the way I'd imagined for the last five years.

   "Why?" Traci asked, suspiciously.

   "'Cause we're going for a test drive, and I'm dropping you off in the
next county."

   "If you drop her off, you're dropping me off too," Tami said in my
sister's defense.  "Me too," Mikee chimed in.

   "Me three," Kelly added.

   "Better and better," I said, leering at Zoe.

   "My mom wouldn't want me to be alone with a guy who owned a hot car like
this.  I'll have to get out too."

   "Damn!  Well I guess I'm bring the runt home after all." I looked back
at Mom, who'd finally managed to stop laughing.  Dad was holding his side
and gasping for breath.  "But how?  Dad just got his job back three days
ago."

   Mom grinned.  "I was talking to my mom and dad the day after you sprung
your little bombshell on us.  Dad called the dealership that afternoon and
ordered it."

   "Cool." I wondered if this meant that Dad still owed me eight grand?  I
decided that asking would be pushing my luck.  "I take it I'm ungrounded?"

   "Go."

   I jumped in and started the car.  Damn, that was the most beautiful
sound in the world.

   We drove around for almost five hours.

   The sun was out, and I think it was really trying to be spring, so a lot
of people were out as I drove up and down almost every street in town.  I
have to admit, I enjoyed the jealous looks I got, whether it was from the
car, the five beautiful girls, or both.

   I decided I was even going to skip getting even with Traci.  I mean,
what I did on Monopoly night was funny.  What she did was just plain mean.
But I was feelin' way too good to worry about it.

   Life was good.



   Chapter 69

   "What is this supposed to be?" Mr.  Kincaid asked, interrupting my
daydreams about baseball practice that afternoon.  It hadn't rained in
almost a week, so the field should be perfect.

   "My project." Sometimes teachers could be so dense.

   "Your project," he said stiffly, "was an abstract art piece on an
emotion.  This is...  is...  is almost representational."

   My drawing was a guy standing on a hill.  He was surrounded by a heart,
and the heart was surrounded by a sunburst as the guy stared at a girl on
another slightly higher hill.  It was supposed to represent my undying love
for the girl on the other hill.  For once, it didn't take a lot of
imagination to see a boy and a girl in the picture.

   I don't like to draw or paint, and I ain't good at it.  And I really
don't want to be.

   "That's not a bad thing.  Art should be representational."

   "No, no, no.  This is art," he said pointing to a copy of a Jackson
Pollock on the wall.  "It's bold, it's evocative, it makes you think."

   "That is a guy cleaning his paint brushes on a canvas and laughing all
the way to the bank.  Pollock, Jasper Johns, Roy Lichtenstein, Picasso,
they're all playing this huge joke on the world and laughing 'cause we
don't get it."

   "I'm afraid you don't get it.  You're getting an F on your project and
an F in my course."

   An F.  I'd never had an F.  Hell, I'd never had a C.

   "No wait." I grabbed a fresh sheet of paper.  Tami was working on a
painting next to me.  I grabbed the brush out of her hand and smeared some
paint on the paper before handing it back.  It was a dark purple.  Then I
took a jar or red paint and tipped a little onto the paper letting it run
down and through the purple smear.

   I showed it to Mr.  Kincaid.  "I call it Portrait of a Failed Artist Who
Pretends to Teach and Criticize."

   Mr.  Kincaid's face went through almost the entire spectrum.  First
white, then pink, red, and purple.  He opened his mouth to speak several
times, then shut it again, before stomping out of the classroom.

   I looked at Tami.  "Do you think I should sign it Tony, or Sims, or do I
need a pen name?"

   "I think you went too far this time," she said as she put her brush
down.

   "I think you need to learn to read a calendar," Robbie said from across
the room.

   "A calendar?"

   She pointed at the one behind the teacher's desk.  "It's still February.
March doesn't start 'till tomorrow."

   "Mr.  Sims, I am extremely tired of your attitude.  Of your disrespect
for this school and it's teachers."

   My stomach growled.  Parker had kept me sitting outside his office for
over an hour.  It was lunch time, and I was hungry, though I figured it
wasn't the best time to mention it.  "Don't forget you.  I have no respect
for you."

   Parker went crimson.  "You see what I have to put up with," he said,
looking at my mom.  Parker had gotten smart.  He called Mom before he
talked to me.  She and I were sitting on one side of the large conference
table.  Parker and Kincaid on the other.  Mr.  Mulino and Mrs.  Jeffries
sat on the side, though they said they were just observing.

   "Tony!" Mom said warning.

   "Just trying to be helpful," I said with a shrug.  "Mr.  Parker knows I
have no respect for him, though I have to show him respect due to his
office."

   "Stop helping," Mom instructed.  I shrugged again.  "What seems to be
the problem this time?"

   "Just Mr.  Parker's continued persecution of me," I answered before he
could.

   "This is not a persecution, it's a prosecution.  Persecution is
something completely different." He said with an air of superiority.

   "Please don't lecture me on my word choice.  I know the difference
between persecution and prosecution.  In fact I'd be happy to match my
vocabulary against yours anytime."

   "Tony, Mr.  Parker is not persecuting you," Mrs.  Jeffries said.

   "I wonder how the state board of education would see it.  I'm one of the
top students of this school..."

   "According to who?" Parker asked.

   "Well, at the end of the first semester, I was number four in my class
academically.  That probably puts me in the top ten for the school.  I'm
involved with two extra curricular sports and all the performing shows.  I
recently participated in the state-wide play competition and just spent two
months helping the middle school gymnastics team.  By most people's
standards, that would make me one of the top students.  What's your
criteria?"

   "That's not important.  Nobody's persecuting you."

   "How many times have you suspended me?  Or attempted to?"

   "Are you saying you didn't deserve it?"

   "No, I'm just wondering how even-handed punishment is in this school.  I
know one student who's been caught smoking three times and hasn't been
suspended.  Of course, he's a favorite of yours."

   "That's a lie!" Parker thundered.

   Mom sighed.  "I still don't know why we're here."

   "Your son said some distasteful things about me," Kincaid accused.

   "I did?" I asked in my best surprised innocent voice.

   "Don't try to deny it.  You know what you said.  I have witnesses."

   I looked at Mom and shrugged.

   "What did he say?" she asked.

   "Wait, I have an idea," I interrupted.  I reached into my notebook and
pulled out my masterpiece.  "Mr.  Kincaid assigned us to do an abstract. 
He didn't like my first one, so I did this." I showed them all the
painting. "I told him I was calling it Portrait of a Failed Artist Who
Pretends to Teach and Criticize."

   "There!" Kincaid said, sounding satisfied.  "You see."

   "What does the painting have...  wait!  Do you see yourself in that?" I
looked at the painting closely.  "I don't see it." I laid down the
painting.

   "You did it deliberately," Kincaid accused.

   "Yes I did.  I deliberately smeared some purple paint there.  I
deliberately dripped some red paint there, then I gave it a title and
called it art.  If there's a crime, it's calling that art." I looked up at
Parker.  "You going to suspend me or what?"

   "I..." Parker looked sick.

   "Personally, I don't think you can make it stick."

   "I..."

   "That's enough," Mulino said standing.  "Mr.  Kincaid, you can go back
to class now.  Charley, I think you have things to do too." Parker and
Kincaid gathered their things and left.  Mrs.  Jeffries hesitated, then
followed them.  Mr.  Mulino took Parker's seat across from me.  "Tony, I'm
disappointed."

   I considered and rejected an innocent look.  "I'm sorry to hear that."

   "You baited Mr.  Kincaid.  On purpose."

   "I did.  He has such a superior attitude, and it was so easy.  Mr. 
Parker was a bonus."

   "It's still not like you."

   I decided that Mr.  Mulino didn't know me as well as he thought he did.

   "Besides, I figured that next week I had to sue the school district
anyway.  I figured I could get an early start."

   "Sue the school district?" Mom and Mr.  Mulino said together.

   I smiled and nodded.

   Mom got the question out first.  "Why would you want to sue the
district?"

   "Today is the start of baseball try-outs.  I'm a sophomore, but I'll
probably make the team." Both of them nodded.  "That means that starting
next week, my teachers will make a weekly grade report for my eligibility.
Mr.  Kincaid's report will keep me off the team."

   "You don't have at least a C in Art?" Mr.  Mulino asked, surprised.

   "I have somewhere between a D and a F.  Mr.  Kincaid said today it was
an F."

   "Then you can't play."

   "I want to play, so I have to sue."

   "The eligibility guideline is district policy.  A lawsuit won't change
it."

   "That's not why I'll sue."

   "Why?"

   "They made art a required subject."

   Mr.  Mulino leaned back in his chair, looking surprised.  "I hate to
break it to you, Tony, but the district has the right to do that.  Just
cause you don't like a subject..."

   "But they made it a required subject without making any guidelines."

   "Mr.  Kincaid makes the guidelines."

   "That's the problem.  He's biased."

   Mr.  Mulino looked surprised again.  "Are you saying he doesn't like
you?"

   I smiled.  "Before today, I think he liked me just fine.  The problem
is, he likes abstract art."

   "You want to sue because your teacher likes abstract art?"

   "Pretty much.  Mr.  Kincaid is a nice guy.  And a pretty good teacher.
But we've spent four days talking about the old masters and renaissance
art. Three days on the impressionists.  And four weeks on Picasso." That
caused one of Mr.  Mulino's eyebrows to go up.

   "Here's one of my tests," I said, pulling a paper out of my notebook and
handing it across to Mr.  Mulino.  "You'll see I got seventeen per cent. 
That's an F.  Question one, name the greatest artist?  I said Van Gogh and
got it wrong.  The answer he wanted was Picasso.  Question two, name the
greatest painting?  I said Rembrandt's Last Supper and got it wrong.  He
wanted Picasso's Blue Boy.  Now those are both opinions.  His.  I'll grant
you that he'd told us those answers several times, and I knew what he
wanted on the test.  But couldn't bring myself to write that.

   "About half of our grade comes from our art projects.  I'm a lousy
artist, I admit that.  But he's not grading us on technique, he's grading
on artistic content.  I'm sorry, but you can't grade art.  Look at Warhol's
Soup Can.  Mr.  Kincaid sees a great work of pop art.  I see a Campbell's
commercial."

   Mr.  Mulino looked at Mom.

   "This is the first I've heard of it, but I think he's got a point," she
said.

   "I suppose you'll let him sue?"

   Mom shrugged, "If we don't he'll probably name us as co-conspirators."

   "If I graduate him today, will you send him off to college far, far
away?"

   I smiled and shook my head.

   Mr.  Mulino rested his elbow on the table and rubbed his temple.  "Tony,
go ahead and try out for baseball.  I'll look into it.  No promises, but
I'll look into it.  Go to class," he said waving his other hand in
dismissal.

   "Do you mind if I make a Wendy's run first?  I kinda missed lunch."

   Mr.  Mulino put his other elbow on the table and lowered his face until
his hands covered his mouth and just kind of stared at me over the tops of
his glasses.

   I took that as a yes.



   Chapter 70

   "Where have you been?"

   I finished dialing my combination, opened my locker, then looked up at
Robbie.  "You're talking to me today?"

   Robbie blushed.  "I figure we're on the same team.  Short and second are
neighbors.  We're going to set a state record for double plays this year,
so I have to talk to you."

   I nodded and put my backpack in my locker.

   Robbie waited almost a minute while I got out my books for first period.
"So where have you been?  I mean, you were around for spring break, and a
couple of days after, then you disappeared.  It's been two weeks.  You
missed six games."

   I nodded.  "I heard you took over for me at shortstop."

   "Where'd you hear about that?"

   "I talked to the coach last night.  He said I should watch my back
'cause you were pretty good."

   Robbie smiled and turned red.  "I prefer second.  Glad to have you back,
but you still didn't tell me where you've been."

   "You're right, I haven't."

   "Zoe was gone too.  You two been shackin' up?"

   "Something like that," I said as the bell rang.

   "Did you hear about Kenny?" Mikee asked, walking up to us.  Robbie,
Tami, and I were standing in line waiting for lunch.  Mental note: talk to
student council about petitioning for an open campus at lunchtime.

   "What?" the three of us said together.

   "The D.A.  offered him a deal.  He could go to the boy's school at Green
Hill 'till he's nineteen or go to trial and the D.A.  was going to
prosecute him as an adult because of the amount of stuff they found.  He
took Green Hill."

   "I guess Kenny's not as stupid as I thought," I said.

   "They took him last night."

   "How are you parents handling it?"

   "Pretty good.  I think they kind of expected something like this."

   "How's Kelly doing?  I haven't seen her in weeks."

   "She's back to her old self.  She says she misses the middle school
gymnastics, but the club keeps her busy.  I still don't know what
happened."

   "Probably just a phase.  You know how girls are." Robbie and Tami both
smacked the top of my head.

   I was just taking the first bite of my hamburger when a shadow fell over
my lunch tray.

   "Mr.  Sims."

   "Mr.  Parker," I acknowledged without looking up.

   "It's nice that you finally decided to join us."

   I swallowed and looked up.  "Well, the school has such a friendly
atmosphere, how could I stay away.  I mean the vice principal himself comes
to welcome me back."

   "Do you know what Friday is?"

   I nodded.  "I believe I do.  It's the ninth of April.  Be sure to stop
by any time you need information." I took another bite of my burger.

   "It is also the end of the third nine week grading period," Parker said
with way too much satisfaction.

   "It's also our game against Apple Valley," Robbie added helpfully. 
Parker's glare made it clear he didn't appreciate the help.

   "A nine weeks you will be repeating in summer school."

   The idea surprised me.  Not just that I didn't want to give up my
summer, but that Parker would want to have to put up with me during his.

   "That wouldn't be convenient.  I think I'll pass."

   Parker grinned.  It was not conducive to my digestion.  "You missed ten
days.  School policy is that you can only miss eight per nine weeks."

   "Just out of curiosity, whose policy is that?  Yours or the district'?"

   The look of annoyance that flicked across his face answered that
question nicely.  "Also out of curiosity, what's the purpose of my going to
summer school?"

   "To make up the work you missed."

   "Well, grades come out after Friday, and I'd be very surprised if, with
the exception of art, I have anything lower than a B.  And since the
guidelines for art changed, I should have a solid C there.  I'm not sure I
see the point."

   "The point, Mr.  Sims, is that the rules are for everybody."

   "There is that, I suppose," I agreed.  "Tell you what: I'll pass this
all on to Mom.  She can decide whether to give it to our attorney or just
call Mr.  Mulino directly."

   Parker glared, turned and walked off, not quite stomping.

   "You just love to push his buttons, don't you?" Robbie accused.

   I grinned and finished eating my hamburger.

   A week later I was sitting in history class.  Normally that would be a
good thing.  I like history, but today Mr.  Calloway had a dentist
appointment, so Parker was subbing, which pretty much meant that he was
talking about things he didn't understand and didn't want questions or
comments.  We were supposed to just soak up his wisdom.

   Dad's cell phone in my shirt pocket started vibrating.  It tickled. 
Cell phones were strictly forbidden in school, so I pulled it out and
looked at the screen, recognizing the number.  I cupped it in my hand and
held it up to my ear.  "Tony," I said quietly.

   "It's time," the voice in the phone told me.

   "Mr.  Sims!" Parker had stopped lecturing and was standing in front of
my desk.  "I believe you're familiar with the rule against cell phones in
school."

   I nodded as I clicked off the phone.

   "I'll take that."

   "I don't think so," I said, slipping the phone back into my pocket. 
"It's my dad's.  He doesn't like me giving away his stuff." I closed my
notebook and text.

   "What are you doing?"

   "Leaving," I said as I stood up.

   "You can't just leave."

   I smiled tightly.  "We have differing opinions on so many things." I
stood up.

   "You can't leave."

   "Watch me."

   "I'll suspend you."

   "Do what you got to do.  Right now, I've got a better place to be. 
That's a Harry Chapin song by the way." I left Parker with his mouth
hanging open.

   I called mom from the highway.  "I'm going."

   "Be careful."

   "Parker was subbing in history class.  He wasn't happy about me
leaving."

   "Did you explain."

   I smiled to myself.  "Honestly, the thought never occurred to me."

   I could hear her sigh.  "I'll see what I can do."

   I hate hospitals.  Calling it a medical center doesn't help.

   "There you are."

   I looked up at Tami standing there.  She was wearing one of the school
sweatshirts, the hood pulled over her head to protect her from the rain.

   "What are you doing here?"

   She smiled.  "I had to be someplace.  Here seemed like a good choice.

   I nodded.  It made sense.

   "These work better with two people," she said, nodding toward the teeter
totter.

   I stood up so that the other end came down.  Tami climbed on, then
pushed off.  I went down again, pushed off, and went up in the air.  For
awhile we teeter-tottered, up and down, up and down, while the hard, cold
April rain soaked us.

   "I made love to her.  Two months ago today for the first time."

   "I know." Tami stopped off and slid off.  She walked to the swings.

   I got off and followed.  "You know?"

   "At districts.  She was different Saturday."

   I nodded and got behind Tami and started pushing.  "How'd you get here?"

   "Greyhound.  I left the driving to them."

   "No, here?"

   "I went to the hospital..."

   "Medical center," I corrected.  "They like to call it a medical center."

   "I went to the medical center, you weren't there, I came here."

   Made perfect sense to me.  In a city of half-a-million people, Tami came
straight to my little playground a dozen blocks from the medical center.

   "It's nice."

   I nodded, feeling possessive.  "You should see it when the sun is
shining.  Lots of kids." Thursday and Friday had been beautiful days, and
the playground was packed with kids, screaming and running and just having
fun.  Yesterday the rain had started.

   "Are you okay?" Tami asked as I pushed her higher and higher.

   "Not really."

   "Were you...  ?"

   "I was there."

   Zoe had a rare form of leukemia.  Between her red cells and white,
something didn't work.  That was why she got sick so easy.  Just after
spring vacation she'd gotten sick again.  This time I came with her when
her parents brought her to the medical center at University of Washington.
She hadn't wanted me to.  She didn't want me to know just how sick she was.
But I knew, so I insisted.  I'd stayed for two weeks, then had to go back
to school when it looked like she was getting better.

   Then, a week later, her mom called to let me know that 'it's time.'
She'd slipped into a coma by the time I got here Wednesday afternoon.  I'd
sat with her and prayed.  I'd never really prayed before, but I prayed for
Zoe.  When I couldn't take just watching her lie there, I walked.  That was
how I found my playground.  I watched and prayed.  I walked and prayed.

   Friday she'd come out of it.  She seemed the same old Zoe.  Her mom
hugged her.  Her dad hugged her.  I hugged her, and we all talked for hours
and hours.  Yesterday morning, I'd been holding her hand, listening to her
talk, and she slipped back into her coma.  Then this morning I'd watched as
the Marcus Welby and Doctor Kildare types unplugged their tubes and wires
and said their 'I'm sorries'.

   I'd always remember that last conversation.

   "It hasn't been so bad, has it?" she asked, her face pale and breathing
raspy.

   "Bad?  Of course it hasn't been bad."

   "Can we go on forever?"

   "Forever," I agreed.

   "You're a terrible liar.  I think that's why I love you."

   "I'll get better.  When we're married and I want to sneak out with my
buddies for some poker, I'll have to."

   Zoe smiled.  "Will you go back to her?"

   "Who?"

   Zoe smiled again.  For a second, she seemed to have some of her color
back.  "Will you marry her?"

   "I..."

   "Please." She smiled a third time, then she squeezed my hand and closed
her eyes.

   I stopped pushing Tami and went over and sat on the merry-go-round.  It
was wet, but I didn't care.  Tami followed me.  "Do you want to talk about
it?"

   "No."

   "Okay." Tami sat down beside me and started pushing us slowly in a
circle.

   "It was Mikee who told me.  Back in January.  Zoe had told Mikee her big
secret, and she thought I should know."

   "Because Zoe loved you."

   I swallowed hard.  "I don't know if it was really love, or just a crush.
Zoe talked about all her boyfriends back in New York, but she confided in
Mikee that she'd never really had one."

   "She had one," Tami said and laid her head on my shoulder."

   "It wasn't fair.  She deserved better.  I didn't really love her, I just
pretended."

   "Tony, I know you better than that.  You may have started out
pretending, but in the end you loved her.  You love her.  You already said
it.  Two months ago today, you made love to her.  You didn't fuck her, you
didn't have sex with her, you made love to her."

   Tami put her foot down and stopped us.  She stood up and held out her
hand.  "Come on, lets go home.""

   I took her hand and stood.  "You know, she asked me if I'd go back to
you."

   "Did it bother her?"

   "No, she wanted me to."

   "She was a very special girl.  It's not fair that she had such a short
time."

   We started to leave.  Suddenly Tami stopped and turned to me.  "Tony,
will you marry me?"

   I smiled for the first time since Zoe's hand had slipped out of mine. 
"First chance I get." I put my arm around her and we walked off into the
rain.  I thought about two more years of school.  Two more years of the
trailer park.
   "The very first chance I get."