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 ï>¿The Trailer Park: The Road Trip A Story in the Wynter/Trailer Park
Universe by Wizard CopyrightÂ(C) 2007 by Wizard

   Chapter 16

   "Was she pretty?"

   "Was who pretty?" I asked, startled.  I'd been sitting in the gazebo,
watching the fish pond.  I hadn't been thinking about anything in
particular.  Robbie and I had gotten back fifteen minutes ago.  She and the
others were inside getting the grand tour.  I was enjoying this little
piece of sculpted nature.

   "The girl who died," Cinnamon said as she down next to me.

   I turned to look at her.  "How did...  ?  Who...  ?  Tami told you."

   Cinnamon smiled, and I knew that Tami hadn't.  "Was she pretty?"
Cinnamon asked again.

   I looked back at the fish pond and sighed.  "She was beautiful."

   "What was her name?"

   I looked back at Cousin Cinnamon.  "You mean you don't already know?"

   Cinnamon laughed.  "I can't read minds, you know."

   "Could have fooled me.  Tami can.  Maybe she can teach you."

   One of Cinnamon's eyebrows inched higher.  Somewhere in the back of her
mind was a dossier labeled, SIMS, ANTHONY.  And she'd just made a notation
that 'Subject believes his girlfriend reads his mind.' I had a feeling
there was another notation, 'Fact or paranoid delusion, question mark.'

   I smiled to myself and focused on the pond again.  "Her name was Zoe,
and she was a very special lady."

   "She must have been," Cinnamon agreed quietly.  I barely heard her as I
pictured my lost friend.  "Do you...  ?"

   I sighed again.  Everybody wanted me to talk about Zoe.  It got so old.
She was here, but now she's gone.  What more is there to say?  But as I sat
there staring into the light blue-green water of the pond, I discovered
that I wanted to talk about it.  I wanted to tell Cinnamon about this girl.

   I started with my first impressions.  Zoe was too loud, too brash, too
New Yawk.  But as I'd gotten to know her, I learned how much was veneer and
what the real girl was like.  I described finding out from Mikee that Zoe
was sick.  I told her about saying goodbye to Tami and starting my
relationship with Zo.  And even though she was only thirteen, or almost
fourteen, I corrected myself, I knew she understood what I'd done and why
I'd done it.

   Ghost came over, his toenails clicking on the wooden floor of the
gazebo. He jumped lightly onto the bench we were sitting on and lay down,
his head in my lap.  I scratched his ears and told Cinnamon about the first
time I'd made love to Zo.  It might seem weird, a sixteen-year-old telling
his younger cousin about one of his sexual conquests, but somehow, with
Cinnamon, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

   As I started talking about that last week, Cinnamon leaned against me,
her head on my shoulder, and my arm went around her.  I told her about the
hospital, and Zoe slipping back into her coma, and her hand slipping from
mine.  And about the doctors who decided there was no hope and let her go.

   "You still love her," Cinnamon said.  Not a question, just a simple
statement of fact.

   "I'll always love her."

   I told Cinnamon about Tami finding me at the playground and how she
helped me find myself again.

   "You and Tami have something very special."

   I grinned at the fish-ees in their pond.  "Almost as special as your
friend, I mean your sister, Wynter and Jimmy."

   "Almost," she agreed.

   We sat for several minutes, each with our own thoughts.  Then Cinnamon
and Ghost both seemed to perk up at the same time.  "Daddy's home," she
announced.

   I glared across the table at Traci.  She dropped her eyes and studied
her smashed potatoes.  Next to her, Kelly did the same before I could shift
my glare to her.

   The table was crowded with my seven, my two second cousins, my first
cousin once removed Dr.  Mitch, and Rosita, but despite a few banged
elbows, dinner progressed.  I couldn't tell for sure with the tablecloth,
but it looked like one of those tables you could add leaves to, to make
bigger.  I guessed Rosita hadn't, to make it cozy.  It had surprised me
when Rosita joined us, but I was beginning to get the idea that she was
more than a housekeeper.  Mitch seemed almost affectionate toward her and
Cinnamon treated her like a real mother, which for the mother of a teenager
is a lot like being a maid slash housekeeper anyway.  I wondered what the
story was on Cinnamon's real, make that biological, mother.  I wasn't going
to ask, though my ears would perk up if one of the girls did.

   My other surprise was dinner.  I expected Mexican.  Definitely not my
favorite, but on the plus side, probably the second easiest cuisine, next
to Chinese, to whip up in a hurry when you have seven extra dinner guests.
I think the thing I hate about Mexican the most is the tendency to smother
good food in that gooey brown paste called refried beans.  My personal
theory is that it was the introduction of frying and refried beans that
doomed the Aztec Empire.  Cortez and smallpox just hurried it along.

   But no refried beans.  In fact, no Mexican.  Rosita instantly became one
of my favorite people, serving one of my all-time favorites, Chicken Kiev,
topping that off with garlic smashed potatoes, corn, and what I assumed was
homemade bread.  If the doc doesn't marry her, I may; then we can adopt
Tami and live happily and plumply ever after.

   I leaned back in my chair and grinned at the host.  If I'd been wearing
a belt, I'd have uncinched it at least two notches.  Mitch seemed like a
nice guy, but sure didn't look like a doctor.  He had red hair like
Jimmy's, and, in fact, I had an image of him and Jimmy hosting a Saturday
morning cartoon show together.

   Mitch had seemed to take it in stride when he walked in his house and
found the living room filled with teenagers.  I had a feeling that with
Cinnamon in the family, taking things in stride was a survival trait.

   He looked to Cinnamon for an explanation, but it was Hailey who blurted
out, "We have new cousins!" A slight look of annoyance crossed Cinnamon's
face, and I wondered if Hailey was getting a spanking tonight.  I had no
trouble picturing Cinnamon putting her slightly larger cousin across her
knees.  I also had no trouble getting a boner from the image.

   Cinnamon filled him in on the family connections, and Mitch smiled big
when she mentioned Gran Vickie.  Seems Gran had sent a small Japanese jade
carving as a wedding gift, which Cousin Gwendolyn promptly boxed and put
away.  I was guessing that the Colonel had been stationed in Japan at the
time and probably wasn't a colonel yet.  After we'd all been introduced, he
even gave me one of his cards, which is when I learned it was Brees, not
Breeze.

   After we'd talked for awhile, I shanghaied Hailey to walk me over to
Kenny's house to collect the girls.  She kept an arm around me, squeezing
me tightly to her side so that I wouldn't wander off and get lost.  She led
me to the front door, and we knocked.  Another housekeeper answered the
door.  This one Hailey introduced as Mrs.  Holland.

   "Hi.  Kenny brought my sister and her friend over to see some of
Wynter's cartoons.  I need to collect them for dinner," I explained.

   Mrs.  Holland smiled.  "They're upstairs.  In Kenny's room.  Probably
drawing and coloring."

   Drawing and coloring?  Then I smiled and nodded.  I figured that Mrs. 
Holland was one of those people who lumps everybody under a certain age in
one category: kid.  And kids do kid things.  I wondered if I was in that
category, too, but really didn't want to know.

   "Thanks," Hailey said.  "I know the way."

   "Yes, dear, I know," Mrs.  Holland chuckled.  She reminded me of my
third grade teacher.

   Hailey led me upstairs to a closed door.  Loud music was coming from
behind it.  Britney Spears, I think.  I lifted my arm to knock, but Hailey
opened the door and walked in.

   Kenny was sitting on the edge of the bed with what looked like one of
Wynter's cartoons in his hand.  Of course, the fact that he was naked
detracted from what could have been an innocent scene.

   Traci was kneeling naked on the floor to his left and had her mouth full
of his cock.  Kelly was in her bikini bottoms and was similarly occupied
with his balls from the other side.  Kenny's head was back and his eyes
were closed, and it didn't take much imagination to realize that he was
thoroughly enjoying himself.

   For a second I occupied myself with an image of throwing Kenny out the
window, wondering if I'd get more bounces throwing him out on his head or
his ass.

   "Hey!  You, like, started without me!" Hailey accused.

   Traci and Kelly's heads snapped in our direction.  Kenny's eyes opened,
and from the look of pain that crossed his face, I guessed that one or more
of the girls hadn't disengaged without some teeth getting in the way.  I
hoped it was Traci.

   "Oh, shit," Kenny snapped.

   "It's dinner time.  Get dressed," I said coldly.

   Both girls were appropriately red-faced, though I didn't want to know if
it was the exertion or embarrassment.

   I stared at Kenny as the girls dressed.  He looked...  defiant.  Hell,
his little corn stalk hadn't even wilted despite the teeth.  "Downstairs!
Wait for me," I ordered without taking my eyes off Kenny after the girls
were covered.  "You too," I added for Hailey's benefit.

   I kept staring after we were alone.  I wondered how difficult it would
be to detach his little corn stalk and feed it to him.  Then I admitted to
myself that short stuff hadn't done anything I hadn't done, or at least
wanted to.

   I smiled.  "Nice to have met you Kenneth." I closed the door behind me.
Hell, at least it might keep him guessing.

   I speared a last piece of chicken with my fork and used it to mop up the
last of my potatoes, then popped it into my mouth.  I wondered if Rosita
had any cute daughters she'd taught to cook.

   "Ladies," I said looking across the table at my two guilty-looking
companions, "if you're done with dinner, say thanks and go wait by the
van." The two girls glanced at each other, stood, mumbled something that
could have been 'thank you, ' and left.

   My other four followed suit one-by-one.  I stood.  "Rosita that was
wonderful." She smiled.  "I, uh, we, hate to eat and run, but Tami says we
need to be in Otter Park by six."

   Rosita nodded her understanding.

   "Cuz, I have a feeling that something is happening in the park tonight.
You might want to stop by."

   "Maybe we will," Cinnamon said with an interesting smile.

   "Wait a minute, pickledick!" Hailey said, jumping to her feet.  "You've
so been treating your sister terribly, just cause you're mad.  Cinnamon
will..."

   Pickledick again!  "Cinnamon won't do anything," I said simply.

   "She won't?" Hailey said, losing her head of steam.

   I shook my head.  "'Cause I'm not mad."

   Cinnamon stood and put her arm around Hailey's shoulders.  "It's just
some brotherly torture," she explained.  "How long?" she asked, looking at
me again.

   "Probably till we get to the park.  A guy's got to have some fun."

   I was wondering what Tami had gotten us into.

   Otter Park was packed.

   I guessed we were going big time.

   The girls and I were sitting in a tent which served as a dressing room
behind the stage.  There were three other tents, I guessed for the other
acts.  The stage was kinda neat.  It was probably forty feet wide and
thirty deep and was covered by a concrete half-dome.  It was going to be
like singing in the Hollywood Bowl, except there were no seats, just grass.
Acres and acres of grass.  And people.

   Lets see, there five thousand two hundred and eighty feet in a mile.  So
square that for a square mile, that's, uh, twenty-seven million eight
hundred and seventy-eight thousand four hundred square feet.  There's
either six hundred and twenty or six hundred and forty acres in a square
mile.  I can never remember.  I think it's six-forty.  So divide all those
square feet by six-forty and you get...

   There should be Jeopardy music playing, or else smoke coming out my
ears. Maybe both.

   Forty-three thousand five hundred and sixty square feet in an acre.

   If each one of those families out front take up a space about ten feet
wide by ten feet deep, that's a hundred square feet.  That's more than four
hundred families an acre.  Figure there's at least six acres worth of grass
in front of the stage and that's...

   I reminded myself that I don't get stage fright.  Then I reminded myself
again.

   I got up and wandered out of the tent and into the left side wings.  I
knew the first act would be getting ready on the right.  On stage, a group
of guys were setting up their instruments.  An average-looking man in a
very loud jacket that had to be a joke stepped out in front holding a
microphone.

   "Tonight, Saturday, and Sunday, sixteen different bands and groups are
here for only one purpose, to entertain you.  And to earn your votes, so I
guess that's two purposes." There was some polite laughter, which was
probably more than the joke deserved.

   "I'm your host Junior Arnold!" There was some scattered applause.

   A girl about my age was watching the stage next to me.  She was wearing
a spangled midriff blouse and short, very short, skirt.  I guessed she was
one of the performers.  "Whose the guy?" I asked.

   She shrugged.  "I don't live here.  I think he's some local radio guy."

   "Now our talent show is a little different," the guy continued.  "First
the prize.  We could have offered hundreds of thousands of dollars, or a
recording contract.  Matching Ferrari's or maybe a trip around the world.
But we decided to do something really special for our winners.  They get to
do an encore!" he yelled.  This time the crowd laughed.

   Traci came up beside me.  I slipped my arm around her and gave her a
quick hug.

   "Our voting is different too.  We're not going to use some old lame
applause meter.  And we're not going to have you call or text some eight
hundred number like that upstart talent show on television." That got a few
laughs as people recognized Idol.  Even I chuckled.  "We decided that in
honor of the birth of our nation, we'd do things the American way.  Cold
Hard Cash."

   He took a deep breath and continued his spiel.  "During each group's
performance, members of our high school sports teams will be circulating
with donation cans.  If you hate the music, drop in a dollar, if you love
it, drop in a twenty.  Or any amount in between.  Cash, checks, money
orders, the deed to your grandfather's silver mine, we take it all.  If you
want to donate by credit card, Don Middleton and his team from the
Prospector's Bank are set up back by the statue of Jack Hargus, or you can
call him at five five five two seven eight one.  We'll tally the totals,
and the group that raises the most money wins."

   "And if you want to make any last minute votes, there are tables set up
around the edges where members of the Griffin Middle School band will be
happy to take your money...  I mean your votes.  Remember every penny, I
mean vote, counts."

   I saw maybe half-a-dozen card tables with American flags flying over
them set up around the crowds.  It looked like each table was manned by a
couple of kids Traci's age and an adult, with four decorated coffee cans
sitting on each table.

   I suspected Cinnamon was putting us on by pretending she didn't know
what was happening in the park.  She'd said something about being in the
school band.  She was probably sitting at one of the tables, laughing at
us.

   "And when we get all your loot, er, donations, International Ski and
Trail, the operators of Wizard's Basin, will not just match them but match
them two for one for our local school-er-ship fund.  I happen to know we
have a lot of very smart kids coming up through the schools, even some
future doctors, so be generous." I wondered if he knew Wynter or our future
gynecologist, Kenny.

   "Our goal tonight is ten thousand dollars, and we hope to have over
thirty for the weekend.  Don't forget, we have shows tomorrow at two and
seven, with The Brink of Disaster in the second show, and a final show
Sunday at five.  And Monday, Colorado's favorite band, Stampede.  will be
playing before the fireworks.  We hope you'll all come out."

   He paused briefly while scattered whooping and cheering subsided.

   "Tonight, we have Junior and the Twins!"

   Obviously they were a popular local band because the crowd exploded. 
Junior finally had to quiet them down.  "You keep that up and they won't
have any time left to perform," he reminded them.  I wondered if he was the
Junior in the band.  Probably not.

   "From Denver, we have Defiant Sheep.  All the way from Washington,
Unrehearsed, and first up tonight, from Fort Collins, Taco Jones and the
Enchiladas."

   Junior rattled off the names of the performers and ran off the stage. 
The lights in the back of the stage came up.  I got a good look at the
group.  Taco Jones was about forty and wearing a fringed cowboy suit that
would have made Dale Evans blush, let alone Roy Rogers.  His three
enchiladas were thirty-something and dressed the same way.  They were armed
with two guitars and a drum set.

   The less said about Taco Jones, the better.  They played country.  But
it was old country, and I mean oooooold.  They probably considered Conway
Twitty an upstart.  They played six songs, which was seven too many.  The
only one I recognized was Do Not Forsake Me, Oh My Darlin' which I'd heard
Grandma Carol play a few times.

   The Defiant Sheep were better.  Five guys my age on the instruments and
two very decorative girls on tambourines, including the girl I'd talked to
earlier.  They were hard rock, which isn't really my thing, and pretty
good.

   "Ladies and gentlemen, the Defiant Sheep!" Junior Arnold announced
running back on the stage.  The lights dimmed on the stage and the sheep
started moving off their equipment.  "I'd like to take a moment to remind
you that there are vendors wandering around selling pop, popcorn, and ice
cream.  The ice cream has been donated by the Elk Crossing Dairy Group. 
Silver Mountain Bottling Company has donated the pop, and the popcorn is
fresh from the Aspenleaf Triplex.  A quick thought: if you fill your kids
up with junk now, you won't have cook dinner when you take them home." That
brought Junior his best laugh of the night.

   "As many of you know, inflation is hitting the country hard.  So hard,
in fact, that bus companies have raised their fares so high that
Unrehearsed had to leave their instruments and instrumentalists behind. 
I'll announce their names as they perform.  From Seattle, Washington,
Unrehearsed!  Leading off: Robbie Tate!"

   Robbie started the show with Bridge over Troubled Waters, then Mikee did
Someone to Watch Over Me.  When it was my turn, I jumped off the stage,
grabbed a slightly plump little girl about Traci's age, pulled her back to
the stage with me, and sang her Your Song.

   "What's your name?" I asked when I finished.

   "Alyssa Erland," she said, though even with my holding the microphone in
front of her, I doubt anyone but me heard her.

   "Thanks for being part of the act," I said and kissed her on the cheek
before she ran back to her family.

   As I walked to the wings, Tami gave me her best glare, which was not
very intimidating, to be honest.  "I thought that was my song."

   "Not any more.  Now my heart belongs to Alyssa."

   Tami cocked her fist and it shot out toward my shoulder, but I was
ready. I grabbed her wrist, then snagged the other and twisted her around
as I pulled her close, ending in what I've always called the straight
jacket.  Tami, with her back against me, her arms pulled across her body
just below her tits, and me holding both wrists, was immobilized.  I
nuzzled her neck.  "Alyssa may have been on stage, but I was singing to a
girl from the trailer park."

   "Ummmm," Tami moaned as I nibbled and kissed along the side of her neck.
"Probably Kelly."

   "You know me so well," I agreed.

   "Hey, I have to at least pretend to get jealous now and then."

   I didn't answer.  I just kept kissing her neck.

   "Get a room," Robbie suggested, shaking her head.  I grinned and ignored
her.

   Traci kicked it up a notch with Jailhouse Rock and had most of the crowd
up and dancing.  Near the front, just below the stage, a pair of seven or
eight-year-old twins were doing a twist that would have made both Elvis and
Chubby Checker proud.

   Robbie and I did our If You See Him/If You See Her, and then Traci came
back with Climb Every Mountain.

   I was glad that Tami had actually given us a program tonight so that we
knew what we were singing before the music actually started.  It made
things easier.  For my second song, we'd set up a stool in the center of
the stage, and I sat on it.  A single spot came up, with a dark red gel. 
"A few months ago, we lost a very special friend.  This is for her."

   I watched Tami in the wings and waited for her cue like we'd practiced.

   "Sarabeth is scared to death..." I started.

   At the sound board, Tami slowly brought up the music behind me.

   I started the chorus,

   "She dreams she's dancing..."

   A boy in a suit and baseball cap and a girl in a party dress suddenly
started waltzing from the wings in front of me.  I almost lost it when I
realized that the boy was Darlene and the girl was Kelly.

   "Around and around without any cares.

   And her very first love is holding her close,

   And the soft wind is blowing her hair."

   They waltzed off as I started the next verse, but were back for the next
chorus.  They actually made a pretty cute couple.  This time they didn't
dance off stage, but stopped over by the side as I started the third verse.
A spot with a blue gel held them.

   "It's a quarter of seven,

   That boy's at the door,

   And her daddy ushers him in.

   When he takes off his cap,

   They all start to cry,

   'Cause this morning where his hair had been,

   Softly she touches just skin."

   As I sang, Darlene pulled off her cap.  She was wearing a skin cap over
her hair to look bald.  I smiled to myself as they started dancing again.

   "They go dancing...

   Around and around without any cares

   And her very first true love is holding her close

   And the soft wind is blowing her hair."

   "For a moment she isn't scared."

   The lights went down and the stage was in darkness.  Then they projected
an American flag on the back wall, which also projected some of the stripes
on me.  The stage had a cool light and sound system, and Tami had evidently
talked to them about staging, though why they got to know ahead of time and
I...

   Okay, I'm letting it go.

   The music started with a heavy violin.

   "Well, the eagle's been flying slow,

   And the flag's been flying low.

   And a lot of peoples saying

   That America's fixing to fall.

   But speaking just for me..."

   Robbie walked out holding a microphone and took over the song.

   "And some people from Tennessee,

   We got a thing or two,

   To tell you all."

   Mikee and Kelly entered from either side.  Kelly had changed out of her
dress and into jeans.

   "This lady may have stumbled,

   But she ain't never fell."

   Darlene, also back in jeans, and Traci joined the chorus from both
sides.

   "And if Al Quaida don't believe that,"

   We all joined in, and even Tami came out from the wings to stand with
us.

   "They can all go straight to hell.

   We're gonna put her feet back on the path,

   Of righteousness and then,

   God bless America again."

   "And you never did think that it ever would happen again.

   In America, did you?

   You never did think that we'd ever get together again.

   Well, we damn sure fooled you.

   We're walking real proud and we're talking real loud again

   In America.

   You never did think that it ever would happen again."

   My turn again.

   "From the sound up in Long Island,

   to the San Francisco Bay,

   And everything between them is our home."

   Traci, with a wink to me.

   "And we may have done a little

   Bit of fighting amongst ourselves,

   But you outside people,

   Best leave us alone."

   Mikee crossed over and put her arm across Kelly's shoulders, and they
sang,

   "Cause we'll all stick together,

   And you can take that to the bank."

   Darlene.

   "That's the cowboys and the hippies,

   And the rebels and the yanks."

   Robbie.

   "Just go and lay your hands

   On a Denver Broncos fan,"

   The crowd cheered when Robbie changed the song's original Pittsburgh
Steelers to the Broncs.

   "And I think you're gonna finally understand."

   All of us.

   "And you never did think that it ever would happen again.

   In America, did you?"

   Now we were starting to get some help from the audience.

   "You never did think that we'd ever get together again.

   Well, we damn sure fooled you."

   I signaled the sound guy to cut our microphones, but the song thundered
on from a couple hundred throats.

   "We're walking real proud and we're talking real loud again

   In America.

   You never did think that it ever would happen again."

   Even though the music was ending, I decided to repeat the verse again.

   "From the sound up in Long Island,"

   I signaled the others to join in.

   "To the San Francisco Bay,

   And everything between them is our home."

   The crowd got the idea.

   "And we may have done a little

   Bit of fighting amongst ourselves,

   But you outside people,

   Best leave us alone.

   Cause we'll all stick together,

   And you can take that to the bank."

   Most of the crowd was on it's feet and yelling.

   "That's the cowboys and the hippies,

   And the rebels and the yanks.

   Just go and lay your hands

   On a Denver Broncos fan,"

   I could make out at least half-a-dozen team names.

   "And I think you're gonna finally understand."

   "And you never did think that it ever would happen again.

   In America, did you?

   You never did think that we'd ever get together again.

   Well, we damn sure fooled you.

   We're walking real proud and we're talking real loud again

   In America.

   You never did think that it ever would happen again."

   It was too bad we weren't using an applause meter, 'cause the crowd, as
they say, went wild.

   Junior came out while the crowd was still yelling and joined in himself.
The lights on the back of the stage went down, and we hurried off into the
wings, exiting, in the words of one of those Hanna-Barbera cartoon
characters, stage left.  Actually, I think Yogi, or whoever it was, always
went stage right, but here they had us set up to enter from stage right and
exit left.

   We could see workers and performers in the shadows setting up for the
next act.  Apparently this group was a lot smarter than the first two. 
They had their drums and keyboards all set up on wheeled platforms, and all
they had to do was wheel them out and plug into the stage's sound system.

   "That was incredible," Junior yelled at the audience.  "Ladies and
gentlemen, Unrehearsed!  Can you imagine what they'd be like if they ever
rehearsed?  What a way to start the Independence Day weekend.  I'm ready to
go join the Marines."

   "They won't take you," someone yelled and the crowd burst into laughter.

   "You're right," Junior agreed when they quieted again.  "I tried and
they refused me.  They said that their low standards weren't THAT low.  I
just wanted to tell you that even without our last band, we've already met
tonight's goal." And that brought more cheering.

   The shadows took their places.

   "Our final band of the night is a local group.  In fact, they feature
everyone's favorite drummer, the pride of Griffin Middle School!" The
drummer in the dark cut loose with a fifteen second exhibition to loud and
well-deserved applause.  Griffin Middle School.  That was where Cinnamon
and the others went.  She was in the band, so she probably knew him.

   "Ladies and gentlemen, I still don't know which is which, but Junior and
the Twins!" He started off the side of the stage, then added, "No
relation."

   Robbie, Tami, and I stood in the wings watching.  The others had gone
back to our tent.  A single blue spotlight came on, shining on an older guy
maybe dad's age as he began a series of sixteenth-notes on a guitar that
held for a moment, then began rising in pitch.  When he shifted into the
vaguely familiar background pattern, another blue spot came on,
illuminating a tall black kid on bass who matched the old guy's pattern. 
The drummer also kicked softly into the background but remained in
darkness. A white spot came on, lighting up an athletically-built kid as
the lead guitar started.  When the organ began echoing the lead, another
white light caught the familiar-looking red-haired kid playing it.  It was
loud, it was good, and it made me want to find a private beach for me and
the girls to go skinny dipping.

   The older guy seemed to be holding his own with the boys.  The boys were
dressed in beach shorts that hung beneath their knees and Hawaiian shirts
open to their belly buttons.  The old guy was wearing an honest to god wet
suit, with the top open to the middle of his chest.

   The drummer, however, supposedly the star of the band, remained in the
dark background where I couldn't see him yet, tapping out the unremarkable
beat.  I also couldn't remember the name of the damned song.  I knew it,
but what the hell was it?

   "Walk, Don't Run," Robbie supplied, seeing the look on my face, "the
second version from the mid-sixties." It was one of those things as soon as
she said it, I knew it and that it was the sixty-four version.  While I was
kicking myself for not remembering, and wondering if Alzheimer's had any
respect for youth, I missed the unexpected transition into the drummer's
solo.  The lights went out while another white spot caught the drummer.  He
was a she, long-haired, and really working those skins.  Long red hair. 
Very long red hair.

   "I'll be fucked!" murmured Robbie.

   I thought she was commenting on the drummer's skill.  I mean, they said
he, I mean she, was in middle school.  Then I realized the redhead was...
Cinnamon.  That was what Robbie meant.  The fucking drummer was Cinnamon. I
mentally kicked myself for the misuse of language, but I couldn't believe
that my cousin was out there.

   "That's Cinnamon," Tami said shocked.

   "I know."

   "And Jimmy," she added.  And I realized that the kid on keyboards who
looked familiar was the same kid we'd met that afternoon, Jimmy
Mac-something.

   Cinnamon brought the solo smoothly back into the tune, and it ended
unheard by the cheering crowd.

   Almost without pausing, the band kicked into their second number,
another beach song.

   Robbie grinned.  "Miserlou."

   "I know," I said peevishly.  I hadn't known, but Robbie can be so
superior sometimes.

   The third song was another beach one.  I grinned.  "I don't believe it,"
I said

   "What?" Robbie asked.  "That you don't know the name of this one either.

   "Sure I do.  It's Mister Something." Mister Baja?  Mister Malibu?

   "Mister Moto," she supplied.  "What don't you believe?"

   "We're in the middle of the damn Rockies, and they've put together a
damn surf band."

   Robbie nodded.  "You're quick."

   "That's what Darlene complained about." Tami added, then blushed.

   I took a step back and regarded my favorite person in the whole world.
"Et tu, Brutus?"

   Tami shrugged and looked back at Junior and the Twins.

   I was beginning to understand the guys who went off to live in a cave
all by themselves.

   The fourth song was familiar, but I didn't have a clue to the name. 
Robbie and I tried and discarded several titles, frustrated that we
couldn't remember it as the Cinnamon led the guitarist into an ever-faster
tempo.

   "It's Mr.  Rebel, pickledick," said a familiar voice behind me.  "Now,
shut up and enjoy the music."

   Hailey, with Wynter at her far side, stepped up beside Tami and
whispered in her ear.  The love of my life gave me a surprised look and
then nodded at Hailey.  "You're right," she said.

   Now what?

   Robbie recognized Diamond Head, the fifth number.

   The final number was Let's Go!, which I recognized by myself, and not
just because the band and the crowd screamed the words throughout the song.
It was unlike any version I'd ever seen before.  The first time the crowd
screamed, "Let's go!" Cinnamon tossed her drumsticks into the audience.  It
was like a home team pop fly into the stands during the World Series.  Two
replacements shot up from the floor and hovered in front of her.  She
grabbed them and continued as if they'd been in her hands the whole time.
Two more sets went into the audience.  After that she tossed them to the
sides of the stage, where crew collected them.

   I decided that we had some serious competition, especially when all but
one spotlight died, and Cinnamon launched her second, and even more
impressive, solo, complete with flying sticks.  From the crowd reaction, I
figured that the taco-boys were toast and the sheep were lamb kabobs.d But
the crowd had really liked us, and they clearly loved Cinnamon's group.

   If I was judging, I'd give it to Cinnamon, mostly because we'd used
canned music.  But you never know what will happen when you leave it up to
the public, and the audience had really gotten into In America.

   I studied our real competition.  The guitars and bass were good, but
what really impressed me was Jimmy on the keyboards and Cinnamon on the
drums.  I thought about Toby and Sally back home.  I think Toby was a
little better than Jimmy, which made sense since he was three years older.
But Cinnamon had Sally beat by a mile.  And every other drummer I knew.  I
wondered if she gave lessons.

   The band finished and ran off the stage toward us, holding up their
hands with the outer fingers extended.  As I watched, Jimmy ran to Wynter
and hugged her.  Cinnamon kissed the lead guitarist, and the old guy -"I
wonder how he got in a kids band -"ruffled Jimmy's hair.

   Robbie started toward the side door.  "Where are you going?" I asked.

   "To vote," she said, pulling a ten dollar bill out of her jeans.  "For
them."

   Junior came back out and told some lame jokes.  I guessed he was
stalling for time while the last people voted and somebody counted the
money.  I noticed that Cinnamon's band's equipment was still on the stage.
I wondered if they were trying to tell us something, but decided it was
because we didn't have any.

   Cinnamon, breathing hard and covered in a sheen of sweat, grinned at me.
I thought about reaching over and slapping her head off, but I was afraid I
wouldn't get my hand back.  She was reading my mind again, 'cause her grin
got bigger.

   "Might stop by the park tonight, huh?"

   Cinnamon shrugged.  "We had nothing better to do." She handed me a set
of drumsticks painted yellow, blue, and white with Griffin Middle School
Knights Band in printed in gold on one side and a hundred eighty degrees
around it, also in gold, Cinnamon Brees.  "Souvenir of the performance,"
she said, the grin growing wider as she handed another pair to Traci.

   I decided that losing a hand might be a fair price to pay to wipe that
smile off her face.  Wynter took pity on me and started introducing us to
everybody.  Before she could introduce the band to us Robbie came back and
started hugging everybody, telling them how good they were.  Robbie's a
music freak, and she likes almost everything, so when she says they're
good, end of story.

   After about ten minutes Junior was in the middle of a long and
apparently pointless story when his cell phone rang.  His ringtone was Mary
Had a Little Lamb.  He looked annoyed, but answered it.

   "I'm busy, what do you want?" he snapped.  His eyes got big and he
looked shocked.  "Yes, sir!  Sorry, sir.  It won't happen again, sir." He
hung up looking relieved, he opened his mouth and his phone rang again. 
"Yes, sir?" he said tentatively, then he smiled.  "Really?  That's very
nice.  I'll tell them."

   He hung up, grinned broadly, opened his mouth, and the phone rang a
second time.  "Yes, sir?  No, I haven't forgotten.  I was going to tell
them."

   He hung up a third time, opened his mouth, then looked down at the phone
in his hand.  It didn't ring.  He stuck it in his pocket.

   "Those were very important calls.  The first was my boss.  He said I
didn't tell you that tonight's concert has been simulcast on Colorado
Public Radio.  Also, if you would like a CD of tonight's bands, or any of
the acts this weekend, stop by the station.  All proceeds will go to Adrian
Black's Jamaican Vacation."

   Who the hell was Adrian Black?

   The phone rang again.  Junior answered it.  "Yes, sir?  No sir.  It was
a joke, sir.  Yes sir, not a very good one." He hung up, set his phone on
the ground, and jumped up and down.  From where I was, I saw him missing
it, but to the audience, it probably looked like he'd just smashed his
phone.  The sound of something crunching came from the speakers and added
to the illusion.

   "Small correction, all proceeds from the CD sales will go to the
scholarship fund." He looked around conspiratorially.  "But if Mr.  Black
and the other trustees happen to wind up in Jamaica for their meeting..."
He looked around again, then brought his forefinger to his mouth in the
universal sign for quiet.

   Apparently, Black was his boss at the station.  Something all the locals
knew.

   I slipped my other arm around Robbie."It's the big time kid.  Now we're
on the radio and have our own CD."

   Robbie was grinning so hard I thought she might crack her face.

   "I've already ordered some for all the parents," Tami said, showing
prior knowledge.

   "The second call was even more important," Junior continued.  "It was
Sheridan Motors with two important bits of information.  First, they voted
one thousand dollars for The Defiant Sheep." The crowd broke into rousing
applause.  "And one thousand dollars for Taco Jones and the Enchiladas."
Even louder applause.  "One thousand and one dollars for Unrehearsed."
Before the crowd could react he added, "And one thousand and two dollars
for Junior and the Twins." The applause was thunderous, and there was some
laughter that I didn't understand.

   "Aaaaaaand..." the crowd quieted in anticipation.  "Second, it's time
for my ten thousand mile oil change." There were a few groans and a couple
boos, but a few people laughed.

   "Wait!" He waived his hands over his head for quiet.  "The third call
was Principal Scott Peters from the middle school reminding you that if you
have any money left over after voting, souvenir drumsticks are on sale in
front of the right corner of the stage.  All proceeds go to the Griffin
Middle School Band Fund!"

   "Yours are free," my devious cousin said as the rest of the band huddled
for some conference behind us.

   "I've just been signaled that our crack staff of accountants has just
about got our final totals.  One minute." Junior walked off to the wings on
the other side and talked to a big guy in a red polo shirt.  I knew the
phone calls had been staged, but I wondered if Mary Had a Little Lamb was
really Junior's ringtone.

   "All I can say is wow," Junior said when he came back on stage five
minutes later.  "The people in this park have kicked in just under nineteen
thousand dollars in cash." There were ohs and ahs, then loud applause. 
"And our home audience listening on the radio have bettered that." More
applause.  "The Defiant Sheep and Taco Jones and the Enchilada have
together raised over twelve thousand dollars, which was over tonight's
goal." Applause.  "With thirteen thousand, all by themselves, in second
place, Unrehearsed.  And with sixteen thousand, tonight's winners, Junior
and the Twins."

   I demand a recount.  Better yet, if I call and pledge Traci's college
fund, we win.

   "Ladies and Gentlemen, Junior and the Twins!" Cinnamon and her friends
came out and took a bow.  "Lead guitar, Griffin Middle School's former
sports legend in his own mind, Huntly Sheridan!"

   I smelled a rat.  Could there possibly be a connection with the Sheridan
Motors who'd donated four grand?  Then I wondered what kind of sadist would
name his kid Huntly.  By the way he glared at Cinnamon and the way she
smiled back before he waved, I knew who had written his introduction.

   "Bass, formerly Griffin Middle School's and next season Dunn High
School's own star, LaMarcus Reed!" The black kid pantomimed dribbling and
shooting a basketball and then waved.

   "Rhythm guitar, Keith McCauley!" The old guy pantomimed riding a surf
board and then waved.

   "Keyboards, Jimmy McCauley!" McCauley, that was his name.  Well, that
explained how the older guy got in the group.  Must be Jimmy's dad.  Jimmy
raised one forearm below his ribs and bowed.

   "And on the drums, the pride of the Griffin Middle School Band, Cinnamon
Brees!" Cinnamon blew kisses and waved furiously with both hands before the
five of them turned and headed toward their equipment.

   That's when it dawned on me that he hadn't introduced them when they did
their set.  The game was rigged.  I grinned.  I had a feeling that the
organizers knew how popular these kids were, and for an ace-in-the-hole, if
we'd been winning, Sheridan Motors would just reorganize their donation.

   "Let me tell you, the organizers sweated whether a goal of thirty
thousand dollars for the weekend was realistic.  We didn't want to
embarrass ourselves our first time out, but you people have done forty-one
thousand and we've just started!  Which means, with the matching funds from
International Ski and Trail, we have over a hundred and twenty thousand for
scholarship." Massive applause.  "By the way, if you ski, I'm guessing that
after IST gets our bill, lift ticket prices will jump for next year, so you
may want to get yours early."

   Junior glanced back at the Cinnamon and the group, then looked down in
his hand at a note Cinnamon had passed him.  I smiled.  "Ladies and
Gentlemen, a classic!  Caravan!"

   I didn't know it by name, though Robbie seemed to by the smile that
flashed across her face.  I figured I'd probably recognize it.  I like the
surf music from the sixties, and Robbie plays it sometimes, but I don't
really know it that well.

   The lights came up with a different color gel for each one of the band.
Cinnamon's was purple, which seemed appropriate for the future empress of
the world.  The band started in, and it took a few measures before it
clicked.  It was an old jazz song from the thirties or forties that had
been 'surfed up.' I decided it was a great choice for ending the night,
very upbeat and would probably send the crowd home humming.

   About halfway through, Cinnamon took off in a wild drum solo, complete
with more flying drumsticks.  Then, without missing a beat, Cinnamon
stopped and LaMarcus took off using the same underlying beat.  He then
moved into a wild solo of his own before coming back to the beat, with
Cinnamon accompanying him for a couple of bars, before he passed off to
Jimmy on the keyboards.  After Jimmy, Huntly got his turn.  He was
excellent, even if he hadn't been a middle schooler, but I still wondered
about his parents and their choice of name.  I guess Waldo and Mortimer
were already taken.

   After a pretty good solo Huntly brought it back to the main beat, and
Cinnamon took off for a second time, then brought it back around and the
whole group closed it.

   I was exhausted, and all I did was listen.

   Cinnamon and the guys took a bow, then rushed off the stage towards us.
The crowd was on its feet cheering, so Cinnamon gave me a grin as they ran
back out and took another bow.  Then another.  And the crowd wouldn't stop.

   Running back to the wings, Cinnamon yelled something I couldn't catch.
When the crowd kept cheering, she grabbed me and pulled me out with her for
her next bow.  I noticed that Jimmy had snagged Mikee and Traci, LaMarcus
had Darlene and Robbie, and Huntly had Tami and Kelly.  We bowed and ran
for the wings.  The crowd kept cheering, so we did it again.

   After our sixth bow, Cinnamon motioned to the others standing on the
other side, and Taco Jones and the Defiant Sheep all came out to join in
the accolades.  Then the sound and lights guys and the stage crew.  The
latter included one weird-looking redheaded kid with an attitude who was
her height.  She ran to him and held up one of his hands with her own.  The
crowd got wilder.

   For one of the crew?  I looked at Robbie, then Tami.  Both shrugged,
indicating they were as clueless as I was.

   Finally Junior came back with his microphone and shooed us all off the
stage and yelled at the crowd, "Go home!  Go home already.  Come back
tomorrow.  Next show at two." The crowd slowly quieted, and from the wings
I saw them start to pick up and leave.

   "And don't forget, tomorrow night, The Brink of Disaster!" he yelled at
the departing crowd.

   I guessed that was a rock group.  I glanced at Cinnamon, and for once
she wasn't inscrutable.  Her face was somewhere between annoyed and
disgusted.  It was good to know that she wasn't perfect.

   I grinned, thinking of the show.

   What a rush.



   Chapter 17

   The ice cream parlor had a nice feel to it.  Homey.  It was bright and
colorful, but not plastic and artificial.  We got lucky.  There were only
four people inside, a couple about my age and another about sixty years
older.  By the time we all trooped in we pretty much filled the place.  Me
and my six girls.  My cousins, Cinnamon's dad and Rosita.  Wynter and her
parents, along with Jimmy and his.  Then that Huntly dude and his dad and
LaMarcus and his mom.  And somewhere along the way, Kenny, his parents, and
his little brother got attached too.  Me and the other guys started
grabbing empty tables and wrestling them into two long ones.  We finally
sat down, the ten adults and Kenny's little brother at one table, and the
fourteen teenagers at the other.

   Kenny had looked at me funny the whole time after he joined us at the
end of the concert.  Finally, he came over.  "I'mmmm..." There was an
interesting mix of emotions on his face.  Apparently, Cinnamon hadn't
taught him inscrutable yet.  But he wasn't afraid of me, which was a little
annoying since I had a good six or eight inches on him.  He was
uncomfortable but not embarrassed.  For some reason I felt like he was more
afraid of Cinnamon than me, worried that she'd be mad cause he messed with
her new cousin.

   I glared at him for several seconds.  My glare is getting better, but it
never hurts to practice.  "You make the girls do anything they didn't want
to?" I asked quietly.

   Kenny shook his head, then used his forefinger to push his glasses back
up his nose.  It was kind of a loaded question, but I knew that when I
asked it.  "No," he said, "and I don't have any use for guys who do."

   I glared another couple of seconds until the meaning of his words soaked
in.  "We're cool," I said finally with a small smile.  I held out my hand
and he shook it.

   I liked all the parents, though LaMarcus's mom and Huntly's dad didn't
seem to be as much a part of the group.  Wynter's dad was cool.  He
reminded me of a baseball coach I'd had in California.  He was wearing an
ace bandage on his right wrist and had a big, and fresh looking bruise on
his right cheek.  No one seemed to pay any attention to it, so I asked
Wynter.

   She sighed.  "Daddy's a klutz.  In fact the town's emergency people all
know him and call him Senor Klutz.  This time, daddy was backing the lawn
mower out of the garage and tripped over the weed wacker he'd left on the
grass." She shook her head.  "He suffered an abrasion to..."

   "I get the picture," I said quickly, recognizing that she was going into
lecture mode.  Jimmy quickly turned away from her.  He was trying not to
laugh.

   Doctor Taylor had come up behind Wynter and laid his hand on her
shoulder.  "Wynter did the preliminary first aid, but was kind enough to
allow me to take the x-ray to see if anything was broken.  Though she
checked it herself to make sure I didn't make a mistake."

   Wynter looked up at him and smiled at the compliment.

   "She's my best GP intern, though I think Dr.  Brees wants to steal her
and turn her into an OB/GYN.  In fact, he's let her assist in several
deliveries."

   "I don't think that's what I want to do," she replied.  "OB/GYNs are
always too busy.  I wouldn't have time to do that and your job of running
the hospital, too."

   "I see," the doc replied.  "And just when to you plan to take over the
duties as the administrator?"

   Wynter checked her watch.  "It's too close to my bedtime tonight," she
said.  She smiled up at him.  "How's eight in the morning work for you?"

   The doc knew when to retreat in defeat.

   As we sat down, I asked, "So who's Junior?"

   Cinnamon and the others all glanced at each other.  "It's usually
assumed to be Jimmy," Cinnamon said.

   "So if Jimmy's Junior, then he and his dad can't be the twins," Tami
pointed out.  Jimmy looked a lot like his dad.  "So who're the twins?"

   "Wynter and LaMarcus," Jimmy said with a grin.

   I looked at Wynter, sitting next to Jimmy, and LaMarcus, sitting at the
end of the table and talking to Darlene.  "I can see it."

   "But Wynter wasn't even in the band," Traci pointed out.

   "Sometimes she is," Jimmy said.

   "But that's without Jimmy's dad, and then we're called the Wizards of
Wynter," Cinnamon added.  "Unless she's just performing with the Twins as a
guest artist."

   My head hurt.

   "If you stay until Sunda, you can see the Wizards," Wynter offered.

   "Complete with their way big special surprise guest star," Hailey
blurted out before Cinnamon gave her the evil eye.

   "Guest star?" Tami, Robbie and I said simultaneously.

   "It's a secret," Cinnamon explained.  Tami, Robbie and I nodded, but
Mikee, Kelly and Traci put on their puppy-dog looks.

   "It's a secret," Cinnamon repeated.  "Nobody even knows he's in town."

   "Who?" Kelly asked plaintively.

   Cinnamon seemed to consider, though I'd bet big money that she'd already
made up her mind.  She leaned forward, and all my girls did too.  Okay, so
did I.

   "Tyrone Hayes," she whispered.

   "Ty..." Mikee yelled before Robbie clamped her hand over the younger
girl's mouth.  It happened so fast I knew Robbie had anticipated the need.

   "Tyrone Hayes is going to sing with you?" Tami murmured.

   "How'd you do that?" Robbie wanted to know.

   "No way," I said.

   "Who do you think discovered him, pickledick?" Hailey said with a very
satisfied look on her face.  She pointed a finger down the table.  "And his
bass player?" She flipped her palm up-and-over in Cinnamon's direction, as
if introducing her.

   I remembered hearing something about him being discovered in a small
town in Colorado, but I hadn't put it together.  I don't really care about
celebrities.  I either like their music, or their movies, or whatever, or I
don't.  I don't care about their girlfriends, boyfriends, addictions or
anything in between.

   I looked at Cinnamon with a new appreciation.  So my little cuz had
discovered the next big thing.

   Two girls dressed in cute little pink and white uniforms came out from
behind the counter, and that put an end to conversation.  Robbie ordered
something called a suicide fudge brownie surprise, and the rest of my girls
all ordered double and triple scoop hot fudge sundaes.  I wondered if I'd
still be able to afford college after this.

   Then Wynter, who seemed to be the font of decorum for the group,
reintroduced everyone to make sure we all knew everybody.  She was just
finishing, "...  and this is Robbie Tate." She looked especially at Huntly.
"She plays varsity football with Tony.  Their team came in second last..."

   Huntly had been sipping a glass of water.  He spewed it all over the
table.

   "Smooth going, shithead," Cinnamon said, using her napkin to blot up
some of the spilled water in front of her.  I recognized her tone of voice.
I'd heard it enough myself.

   Huntly didn't notice.  He just stared at Robbie.  "You're Monster Girl?"
he sputtered.  "But your hair...  ?"

   "What about her hair?" Hailey said quickly.  "I think it's so the cute."

   Huntly looked at Hailey, then back at Robbie.  "She cut it.  It was
long. Longer than Cinnamon's.  You're Monster Girl?" he repeated.

   Robbie nodded.  "That's what they call me.  Tony mostly.  I cut my hair
after football season last year.  I needed a change."

   Kenny had turned an interesting shade of green that I didn't understand.

   "How would you know, shithead?" Cinnamon asked.  "They play in
Washington."

   Huntly sat back in his chair, picked up his napkin, and started cleaning
his mess, his eyes never leaving Robbie.  "Bitch.  ESPN did a special on
the best football players in high school.  She was one of them."

   "I'm not that good.  They just included me because I'm a girl."

   "She's that good," Tami and I said together.

   "Tony's better," Robbie said.

   "I'm only fit to carry your shoulder pads, milady," I said with as much
of a bow as I could manage sitting down.

   Robbie looked ready to argue, then shrugged.

   Huntly grinned.  "In fact, I watched that special with Kenny.  He
said..."

   "Hey, when's that ice cream going to get here?" Kenny interrupted.

   There was a few seconds of silence, then Robbie got up and went around
to the other side of the table.  She stepped behind Kenny and lightly laid
her hands on his shoulders.  "And just what did the future Doctor Taylor
say?"

   "It wasn't important," Kenny said quickly.  Then his face changed, and I
knew that Robbie was pressing her thumbs into the muscles to the side of
the neck.  Hard.

   "He said, 'I'd sure like to get tackled by her, '" Huntly answered,
still grinning.

   Robbie smiled and dug her thumbs in harder, then relaxed, tilted Kenny's
face up, and kissed hin quickly on the lips.

   I considered a comment about, 'You don't know where those lips have
been, ' but decided that Kelly and Traci would make my life difficult.

   More difficult.

   Robbie started back to her seat.

   "I said, that I'd like to huddle with you," Huntly added.

   "Shithead," Cinnamon said.

   "Bitch," he replied.

   Robbie moved behind Huntly.  "You know, Tony's like a brother to me.  He
got me on the football team in the first place.  So if Tony's an
almost-brother, that makes Cinnamon an almost-cousin.  You shouldn't talk
to my cousin that way.  Say you're sorry."

   Huntly tilted his head back and looked at Robbie, then he turned and
looked at Cinnamon.  "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I called you a bitch."

   If saying words can hurt, those did, not to mention registering negative
numbers on the sincerity meter.  Not that it mattered.  Robbie had listened
to the words but not the tone.  She'd missed the fact that for these two,
bitch and shithead were terms of endearment.

   "That's better," Robbie said.  She glanced at Cinnamon, then tilted
Huntly's head back and kissed him long and hard, stopping only when the
murmurings got louder from the adult table.  After all, she was sixteen and
he was thirteen.  Though his dad looked proud.

   I remembered the quick look at Cinnamon and wondered if she'd been
silently asking permission.  I didn't think these two were boyfriend and
girlfriend exactly, but they were something.  Maybe she'd picked up on
something after all.

   "How come you kissed him better?" Kenny complained.

   "'Cause he didn't try to change the subject," Robbie explained and came
back to her seat.  She stopped to kiss me first, though I didn't know why.
My kiss was somewhere in between Kenny's and Huntly's.

   The conversation centered on football for a few minutes as Huntly wanted
to know everything he could about Robbie and our football team, and Wynter
wanted to know why I had to get Robbie on the team.  Robbie was telling him
about our last game when the ice cream came.

   "Are you going to take state this year?" Huntly asked after everyone
finally had the right order in front of them.

   "We lost some good people," I said.  "But we've got a great core of
experience, and we've got Monster Girl.  It all comes down to...  who
knows," I finished with a shrug.

   I spooned up the last of my sundae, then looked back at Cinnamon.  "So,
you're a surf band drummer.  How come you guys didn't do Wipeout?"

   Cinnamon lost her inscrutability, looked pained, then looked up
beseechingly at the ceiling.  Robbie just shook her head.

   Hailey looked at me pityingly, then at Tami.  "If you keep him quiet and
still, the stitches can come out in a few days."

   Stitches?  What'd I say?  Is saying Wipeout bad luck?  Like saying the
name of the play when you're staging Macbeth?

   Robbie shook her head again, then looked at Cinnamon and Wynter.  "So
where's your friend Suzie?  I thought she'd come to watch you."

   Suzie?  Suzie who?  Then I remembered her from Kenny's story about the
mine.

   "She's in Colorado Springs," Cinnamon said.

   "She's helping Miss Jackson coach a swim camp." Wynter added.

   "She's coaching?" Mikee said.  "That's so cool."

   "My brother coaches too," Traci stuck in.

   "Yeah," Kelly agreed.  "He coached our gymnastics team this year.  So
did Tami."

   "Annnnd," Traci added, "he coached the middle school baseball team when
he was in eighth grade."

   "You coached the team when you were only fourteen?" Wynter said,
sounding impressed.  Though not as impressed as when she found out Robbie
played football.

   I shrugged.  "It's a long story."

   "He was suspended and couldn't play, so he coached," Traci supplied.

   Cinnamon laughed.  "I guess not that long."

   "You got suspended?" I think I shocked Wynter.

   "I got expelled," Kenny said, but nobody payed any attention.

   "It's a regular occurrence," Traci said with a grin.  I decided that
Cinnamon or no Cinnamon, I was becoming an only child in a few minutes.

   "It's not a regular occurrence," I defended myself.  "I didn't get
suspended last year."

   "You came close," Tami pointed out.

   "A couple of times," Robbie clarified.

   I closed my eyes.  A cave.  Way up in the mountains.  I could fish for
my dinner, sleep under the stars, hunt deer and moose.  Then I remembered
that I didn't like to hunt.

   I opened my eyes and sighed.  "I only got suspended twice," I explained.

   "And almost three more times."

   I figured I could bury Traci's body in one of the forests around town.
Mom and Dad might miss her for awhile, but they'd get over it.

   "I'm not sure you're a good influence for my daughter, cousin."

   I looked up.  All the adults were standing behind the kids on the other
side of the table.  Mitch was shaking his head.

   "Suspended twice and almost three more times.  Cinnamon, maybe we
shouldn't associate with that side of the family." The look on his face
said he was joking.

   "That's so okay.  Tony," Hailey said.  "I'll still associate with you."
I don't know how she did it, but she made associate sound like a dirty
word.

   Cinnamon looked solemn in her analytical way.  "I'll reserve judgement
till I hear the story."

   I opened my mouth to protest that it wasn't worth it, but Tami put her
hand on my arm.  "You might as well.  You know she'll find out somehow."

   I nodded.  "You should probably know that I was a good boy until the
eighth grade, when this redhead from Tennessee moved to town."

   "Hey!" Robbie yelled.

   "Quiet!" I ordered.  "I'm telling a story here.  Anyway, the first time
I almost got suspended, I was in the eighth grade, and a tenth grader came
down from the high school and tried to beat me up."

   "You got suspended because somebody beat you up?" Kenny didn't sound
convinced.

   "Well, I..."

   "Tony put him in the hospital," Robbie explained.

   "The second time..."

   "That's it?" Cinnamon asked.

   "Pretty much.  The principal wanted to suspend me for fighting, but I
had a lot of witnesses that said I didn't start it, and that I got hit
three times before I even fought back.  The second time was her fault," I
said and pointed to Robbie next to me.

   Robbie grinned.

   "The first time was my fault," Tami said, also grinning.

   I nodded.  "Robbie was mad at me and..."

   "Why was she mad?"

   I decided that was something that Hailey definitely didn't need to know,
since Robbie had been mad because she'd found out I was fooling around with
Mikee and Kelly.

   "Not important.  Robbie was mad, and I was trying to talk to her in the
hall, but Mr.  Parker, the vice principal, stuck his nose in.  I made a
comment, something about just because he didn't have a love life, he didn't
need to interfere in mine."

   "I'll bet that went over big," Wynter's dad said.

   "It was probably not my finest hour," I admitted.  "Then the third
time..."

   "Wait-a-minute," Traci almost shouted.  "That's not the best part."

   "Not by a long shot," Robbie agreed.  "Tony was home on chore duty, and
Mr.  Hollowell had been chosen to coach the middle school baseball team."

   "Robbie was on it too," Mikee put in.

   "And Hollowell didn't have a clue, so he talked to Mr.  Calloway, the
high school coach, and they arranged with Tony's mom for Tony to coach the
team without Parker knowing," Robbie continued.

   "Tony even got to play after Mr.  Mulino, the superintendent, lifted his
suspension," Traci finished.

   "Then the third time..."

   "Was my fault again," Tami interrupted.

   I sighed and nodded.  "I was a freshman, and Tami wrote an article that
was really good, but Mr.  Parker felt to be inappropriate for the school
newspaper.  I arranged to print it anyway."

   "What he means is, he got Kelly Dubrey to hack the school's computer and
inserted Tami's article on the front page in the stuff that was going to
the printer," Robbie explained.

   "Mr.  Parker was not amused," Tami added.

   "I'll bet," Cousin Mitch said.

   "He even banned me from all extra-curricular activities forever, but Mom
got that overturned."

   "Things got real interesting when Tami's article got nominated for the
Bothwell Award.  It's a national high school journalism thingy," Mikee
said.

   "Then last year, I almost got suspended three times."

   "The first one was Allie's fault," Darlene said.

   "Allie?" Hailey asked.

   "She's a cheerleader like me."

   "Yeah, she cheated," I agreed.

   "SHE DID NOT!"

   I grinned.  "Allie needed to bring her math grade up to stay on the
squad.  I helped her study for a week."

   "Ignoring me," Tami said.

   "And me," Robbie added.  "And not even telling us why."

   "Anyway, Allie took the test and brought her grade up.  Too much.  Mr.
Singara decided that she must have cheated.  I kinda organized a protest."

   Darlene shook her head.  "He did more than that.  Every kid in school
refused to take tests 'cause teachers could accuse us without any proof. 
But the test happened on a Friday, and Tony got the other math teacher,
Mrs. Wayne, to give her a test to show she really and truly knew that
stuff. Then, since she was kicked off the squad for cheating, he arranged
for her to sit on the team bench during the game that night, even though
the coach almost threw him off the team."

   "He kinda started a mutiny," Robbie explained.

   "Then the second time, it was a disagreement over what makes good art,"
I said.

   "There had to be more than that, Cuz," Cinnamon insisted.

   "Well..."

   "Tony drew a picture in art class.  But it was a real picture, and the
teacher wanted something abstract," Tami said.

   "According to our hero, abstract art is a joke the artists are playing
on the rest of the world," Robbie added.

   "My picture was pretty bad, nothing like what Wynter does.  But Mr. 
Kincaid wanted an abstract, so I dripped some paint on a paper and called
it Portrait of a Failed Artist Who Teaches Instead, or something like that.
Kincaid took it personally."

   "I can't imagine why," Mitch said dryly.

   "Parker got into the act and said I had an attitude problem.  He was
probably going to suspend me again, but Mr.  Mulino, the superintendent,
bailed me out.

   "The last time, Parker and I had a disagreement over when it was
appropriate to use cellphones and leave school."

   "Yeah, Parker was subbing, and Tony got a call and got up and walked
out," Robbie explained.  "Parker tried to stop him, and I thought Tony was
going to put him through a wall."

   "Where'd you go?" Hailey wanted to know.

   "I..." The words froze in my throat.

   "Not important," Cinnamon said.  Hailey looked like she wanted to
protest, but a look and a raised forefinger from Cinnamon changed her mind.

   "Parker sounds like a..." Kenny started.

   "Kenneth," his mother said in that quiet, rising voice mothers have that
says your next words could mean the end of life as you know it.

   "...  dedicated professional educator," Kenny finished with a grin.

   "You were right the first time," I said.

   Mitch looked at Wynter's dad.  "What do you think, Richard?  Should I
let my daughter associate with riff-raff like that?"

   Wynter's dad smiled.  "I think if Cinnamon gets any of Tony's ideas, the
Colorado school system may not survive."

   I glanced at Cinnamon, and she smiled back.  Personally, I think the
school system was in trouble even before I got here.



   Chapter 18

   "It's too bad your friend Suzie isn't here."

   I cocked an eyebrow.  That was the second time that Robbie had brought
up Suzie.  We were sitting in the gazebo, my girls and I, Hailey, and
Cinnamon.  Rosita and Mitch had lit a dozen tiki torches around the
backyard, and that was keeping the bugs away.  The gazebo had lights, but
Cinnamon hadn't turned them on.  There was no moon, but the torches and the
stars made it nice.

   "Why?" Cinnamon asked.

   "I had a present for her.  I guess I can mail it."

   I was looking at Robbie suspiciously.  I suppose everyone was.

   Tami put it into words.  "You have a present for Suzie?  But you've
never met her, have you?"

   "Never even heard of her until today," Robbie admitted.

   "So you bought a present for somebody you've never met, and only just
heard of," I said in an effort to clarify.  I was remembering that somebody
wrote a book, Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus.  I think he was on
the right track but just didn't go far enough.  When I got time I was going
to write my own book, Men Are From Andromeda, Women from the Milky Way.

   "Well, I didn't exactly buy it," she admitted.  "But when I heard about
Suzie, I knew this would be perfect."

   Okay, maybe Andromeda isn't far enough away.  Wait a minute.  "Your
errand!"

   Robbie nodded.

   "Where'd you go?" Cinnamon wanted to know.

   "Downtown," I said.

   "Where?"

   "How should I know?  I just followed instructions.  'Left, right, left,
park, stay in the van.' Robbie went up the street without me.

   Cinnamon turned back to Robbie, cocking her head in that analyzing way
of hers, but Robbie just smiled.  I wondered if my cousin had met her
match.

   "So, like, what'd you get her?" Traci asked.

   "It's Suzie's present.  I really shouldn't tell."

   I decided that while I was digging a shallow grave for Traci, I could
make room enough for Robbie too.

   "At least a hint," Hailey said

   "Wellllllll..." Robbie was wearing a denim shirt over her t-shirt, since
the night had cooled off.  She reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out
a cassette tape.  Even in the dim light, I could see that it didn't have a
manufactured label, so it wasn't pre-recorded.

   "Let's see," Tami mused.  "You went downtown and got a cassette, without
buying it, for a girl you don't know and only just heard of.  Where's
Sherlock Holmes when you need him?"

   "Or Ron Lopez," Cinnamon added softly.  Whoever he was.

   "Elementary, my dear Watson," I said in my best upper crust British
accent.  "During young future doctor Taylor's story this afternoon, we
learned that Suzie and young future doctor Taylor became for a time, as
they say, boyfriend and girlfriend.  Robbie, not wanting the young lady
irreparably scarred, found a hypnotist who recorded an hypnotic suggestion
to avoid short, horny kids with glasses.  Because no one in their right
minds would want to associate with such a cad." I was looking at Traci and
Kelly when I finished, but they were both busy looking at the stars.

   Tami, who was sitting across my lap, grabbed my face in both hands. 
"Love of my life, you are so full of it." She kissed me.  "And stop teasing
your sister." She slapped the top of my head.

   "Actually, he's close," Robbie said.

   "You're kidding!" Darlene and Tami gasped at the same time.  I grinned
and buffed my fingernails on my chest.  Then I got smart and buffed them on
Tami's.

   "I got the idea from Kenny's story," Robbie said.

   I mentally reviewed the kid's story.  Like I said before, I tossed out
about half of what he said as exaggeration.  I still didn't see the
connection.

   "Kenny got real animated when he was talking about Suzie's tirade. 
Maybe even more than when he was talking about his own actions."

   Like that was possible.  The kid was so full of himself.

   Robbie looked around waiting for us to get the connection.  I guess we
disappointed her.  Well, maybe Cinnamon didn't, but cuz let Robbie
continue.

   "Kenny said that after Suzie blew up, the judge didn't jump on her
because of the reporters right there.  The newspaper and radio reporters."

   Tami got it before I did.  "They taped it?"

   "He sure did," Robbie said smugly.  "Our emcee, Junior Arnold, was there
with his microphone.  I knew that radio reporters don't usually broadcast
live but tape everything.  Then they broadcast what they can, or what's
most interesting.  Obviously they couldn't use Suzie's little verbal
assault because of her language.  But radio stations are kind of like pack
rats.  They archive everything.

   Cinnamon grinned.  "You went down and asked if they taped it and if you
could have a copy?"

   Robbie grinned back.  "I did, and they did.  Mr.  Black was very nice
about it.  I figured from what I heard that Suzie would love it, and Jimmy
and Wynter would want to hear it, too."

   "And me," Cinnamon said.

   "Me, too," Hailey chimed in.

   Sometimes Robbie amazed me.  I decided that the shallow grave was for
Traci alone.  I could see Robbie now, in a gray tweed suit with a rumpled
raincoat and a deerstalker cap, a cross between Miss Marple, Columbo, and
Sherlock Holmes, solving the great mysteries of the world.  Where was Jimmy
Hoffa?  Who killed Cock Robin?  And how many licks does it take to get to
the center of a Tootsie Pop?

   "Have you heard it?" I asked.

   "Well, only for quality control purposes," she said, trying to hide a
smile.

   "And?"

   "The girl has excellent mastery of the language," she said pompously.

   Hailey jumped to her feet.  "I have a tape player in my room," she
announced and was gone almost as fast as Ghost earlier.

   Hailey was back within a couple minutes with a small cassette player
that she handed to Robbie.  Robbie hesitated.  "Suzie really should hear it
first..."

   "Stop teasing," Tami told her.  "Or I won't loan you my boyfriend
anymore."

   Robbie looked indignant.  "I can get my own you know."

   Tami just smiled and kept looking at her best friend.  I decided to stay
out of it.

   Robbie grinned and put the tape into the machine.  "It's cued up to the
good part.  The first part is the reporter's commentary as they bring Kenny
out of the mine.  Then you can hear part of him telling them what
happened." She pushed the play button.

   "SHUT UP!" a young girl screamed.

   "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU SANCTIMONIOUS ASSHOLE!" she screamed a second
later.

   "Young lady!  You do NOT use..." a pompous voice said.

   "Goddamn it, shut UP you obnoxious old BASTARD!" the girl screamed
again. "Don't you DARE blame Kenny for what happened!  You wanna blame
somebody, fine.  Blame yourself.  It's YOUR fault!  If I fuck up, my
parents punish me.  I don't like it, but it makes me think before I do it
the next time.  But nothing ever happens to Will because YOU WON'T LET IT,
so he just does whatever he WANTS!  The only one who ever tried to teach
'em right from wrong was Ron!  I'm gonna be grounded for the rest of my
life after this, but I DON'T CARE, 'cause I'm not gonna let Kenny take the
blame 'cause you're too STUPID to be a parent!"

   I have to say, I was impressed.

   "I can't vote, but next election I'm gonna ask Mom and Dad to payroll me
from restriction long enough to tell everybody what a STUPID FUCKIN'
SHITHEAD you are and tell them to KICK YOU OUT!"

   I wondered if I heard right.  Payroll?  I knew she meant parole, but did
she actually say payroll?

   "They were gonna make Wynter 'n' me BLOW them, and then they were gonna
RAPE us and KILL us and throw us in a stupid hole in the floor!  You'da got
'em off on a JAYWALKING charge or something 'cause YOU DON'T CARE!  Kenny
cut Will's fingers off?  He shoulda cut his stupid PECKER off!  This is ALL
YOUR FAULT!"

   I decided that I like Suzie.  I liked her a lot.

   There was several seconds of background noise on the tape, and then the
girl continued, a lot calmer but still agitated.  "So go ahead and ground
me already.  I DON'T CARE!"

   Robbie clicked off the tape.

   Cinnamon grinned.  "Suzie is going to love that.  Kenny and Wynter and
Jimmy, too."

   I looked at Cinnamon.  "Tell her that Tami and I are getting married in
two years and we want to adopt her."

   "You just want her body, you pervert," Tami accused.

   I tried to look innocent.  "I haven't even seen her body.

   "I need to recycle some of this Coca Cola," I said, standing and
stretching."

   "Me, too," said Hailey as she jumped to her feet.  "I'll escort you."

   I started to protest that I didn't need an escort to get to the
bathroom, but from the corner of my eye I saw Tami grin and shrug.  I bowed
to the inevitable.

   Hailey had her arm around my back by the bottom of the steps.  I'd
already accepted that Hailey had a crush on me.  Now I was beginning to
think it wasn't a cute schoolgirl crush but more like out-and-out lust. 
Hailey reinforced the lesson as her hand moved off my back and squeezed my
butt.

   I'd always thought I was pretty sexual.  I mean, I made love to Tami in
the seventh grade.  Now I had a harem that Hugh Hefner would die for.  But
I was starting to wonder if my two cousins might not put me to shame.

   I moved Hailey's hand up to my hip and left my hand on top of it.

   She'd been making small talk about the tape and what Suzie was going to
think and didn't even pause when I moved her hand.

   As we walked in the breakfast nook, she stopped us and moved from my
side to my front without ever breaking body contact.  Her hand had slid
under mine, across my butt, and to my other hip in one smooth motion.  I
was still being impressed by her feat when I found my mouth full of tongue
again and Big Tony getting another massage.

   I was too surprised to stop her.  I gave her ten out of ten for
technique, skill, enthusiasm, and difficulty level.  Big Tony gave her a
standing ovation.

   "Tony?" she said when she pulled back.  I was still trying to remember
why I was supposed to stop her.  "Robbie was serious when she said that
Tami shares you with the others, wasn't she?  And that this is Tami's
night? Well, do you think Tami would, like, share you with me tonight?"

   I half-remembered an old fable.  Something about an ant, or a squirrel,
or something like that.  It was spring and all the other squirrels wanted
to play and have fun, but one squirrel worked hard and gathered food for
the winter.  Maybe it was a grasshopper.  Anyway, I kind of felt like that.
There was one voice in my head that was saying run, don't walk, straight
back to Tami.  But all the other voices, including Big Tony's, and I didn't
even know he could talk, were saying, 'Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!!!' And the
sad thing was, I couldn't even remember how the blasted story came out. 
The squirrel or ant or whatever was probably run over by a truck and his
buddies ate his food and partied all winter.

   "You're only thirteen," I stammered.  Mostly to buy time.

   "I'm fourteen-and-a-half," she corrected.  "My birthday was in January."

   "What would Unc...  I mean, Cousin Mitch say?" I asked thinking fast.  I
was kind of amazed I was thinking at all.  Her hand was still rubbing the
front of my shorts.

   She glanced at the kitchen clock.  "Uncle Mitch has to work tomorrow so
that he can be off for our picnic on the fourth.  He's rolled off Rosita by
now and is asleep."

   "WHAT?" I just couldn't picture Mitch screwing the maid while his wife
was away.  He didn't seem the type.

   She pulled back slightly from the waist up, but kept her grip on Big
Tony.  She gave me the first truly serious look I'd seen from her.  "You so
don't know about Aunt Gwendolyn, do you, Cuz?" She searched my eyes, not
with Cinnamon's intensity, but with more than Robbie had ever used.

   " I didn't think so," she said, answering her own question.  "She's
another example of how bogus this fucked up family is.  She inherited
Grandmother Millie's gene or chromosome or what ever it is that makes you a
drunk.  Only she started taking drugs with it.  They sent her to rehab in
Massachusetts.  She can't come back here, or she'll be arrested for the
drug charge.  She divorced Uncle Mitch last year.  It was the second best
thing that ever happened to him.  Cinnamon was the best."

   I tried to process that.  Aunt, no, Cousin Gwendolyn was an alcoholic?
And a druggie?  And the family has a gene for it?  I'd never seen Grandpa
Doug take more than two beers.  No, wait.  Wrong family.  I don't think
I've ever seen Grandma Vickie with anything alcoholic.  Mom says Patti
drank like a fish in college, but now she only has a couple glasses of
wine. In fact, about all I ever see Mom have is one or two glasses of wine,
though Dad said she was putting away the tequila pretty good at the New
Year's party.  But then there's me.  Tami thinks I could have a problem. 
Do I have the gene?

   She shushed me to stop my saying something.  "We call my aunt 'Millie'
after Grandmother.  It is so not the compliment.  She's, like, an evil,
hateful bitch.  She damned near drove Uncle Mitch to suicide twice.  The
only reason he's still alive today is Cinnamon.  He so refused to leave her
in Aunt Bitch's care because she hated Cinnamon, and I'm not exaggerating
at all.  She blamed Cuz for everything that was wrong in her life.  The
woman so hated her own daughter."

   How could anyone hate their own daughter?  Especially a bright, talented
girl like Cinnamon?

   She took a deep breath and continued.  "And the only reason he is sane
today is Cinnamon.  You have no idea what she's been through with him.  I
know very little, but I know it was torture for both of them.  I couldn't
have done it in her place.  I'd have killed myself, I think, so that he
could, too."

   She pointed to a spot on the ceiling.  "That woman has been, like,
everything he deserves in a wife, everything Cuz so deserves in a mother,
everything they should have had in Aunt Bitch, everything that all of
Grandmother Millie's spawn should have been but weren't, except for my
father."

   It took me a second to realize that she was talking about Rosita.

   "I never realized..."

   "I know.  Wynter's told me a couple of things because she was there to
see them.  Cuz is so afraid to talk about almost all of it with others,
even with me.  I don't think she can, and I so don't blame her, but you are
family and, like, need to know.  I'll tell Traci later, or you can tell
her. You decide.  But you should also know that Rosita is, like, no longer
the maid.  She's now your cousin, too, and that's the third best thing that
ever happened to Uncle Mitch."

   I nodded.  I still wasn't sure if Mitch and Rosita were married, but
decided it didn't matter.  If Rosita was good for Cousin Mitch and
Cinnamon, then she could be my cousin anytime.  Besides, she can cook.

   I was still sorting everything out in my mind, and deciding that I
didn't need to know any more of my relatives, when I found my mouth full of
tongue again.

   "Now," she said as she pulled back, "what about my offer, Cuz?  I
guarantee that you'll so love every moment of it.  Three holes, no waiting,
and you can, like, do me all night if you want.  I'd so like that."

   "Well...  Uh...  What about Cinnamon?" I was still trying to talk my way
out of it, though I wasn't completely sure why.  But she was only thirteen.
I mean, fourteen.  I know Kelly was too, no, thirteen, but that was
different.  It was...  complicated, I finished with a mental sigh.

   Hailey shrugged and gave me a smirk, running a fingertip down my chest.
"If you want a threesome, she'll join us.  She likes them.  How about it?"

   Oh, God!

   "Hailey!  I'm your cousin!" It was the last argument on my list.

   "Second cousin, which means we could even get married if you want. 
You'd be, like, keeping it in the family.  Come on!  Traci is so the cute!
Don't tell me you've never thought about banging somebody in the family
before.  No way!"

   'Fuck!' I thought as a picture of Traci riding my cock flooded my mind.
But the picture shut off all the other voices, including Big Tony.

   "It's not going to happen," I said.

   Hailey finally released the big guy and took two steps backward, shoved
her shorts to her ankles, and lifted her shirt.  She wasn't wearing
anything else.

   Which is why, at that moment, the patio door opened, and Robbie and Tami
walked in.  The universe loves a good joke.

   Robbie grinned and shook her head.

   Tami smiled and sighed.  "Couldn't wait long enough to find someplace
more comfortable?"

   Have I mentioned I hate my life?

   The girls giggled and passed through.

   I stepped up to Hailey, leaned down, and grabbed her shorts and pulled
them up.  "Hailey, you're my cousin, and I love you.  But not like that," I
said pretty convincingly.

   But if I was so convinced, why was I still seeing her naked body as I
followed the girls to the bathroom?

   I was playing with Ghost.  Or he was playing with me.  I wasn't sure.

   I was standing a dozen feet from the gazebo.  I'd throw a tennis ball
and, like a shot, he was after it.  He'd snag it, bring it back, then lie
down a few feet from me and grin.  I swear he was grinning.  And he
wouldn't give the damn thing back.  I'd walk over, grab the tennis ball,
we'd play tug-of-war for twenty or thirty seconds, then he'd let go and
we'd start all over again.

   It was almost midnight, and I was playing with the dog.  I was just too
pumped up to sleep.  It had been a hell of a day.

   Darlene, Robbie, and Traci had decided on beds.  They'd gone in to
settle down about half-an-hour ago.  Tami, Mikee, and Kelly were going to
sleep in the big tent that I'd set up on one side of the badminton net. 
The small tent was on the other.

   Tami, Mikee, Kelly, and Cinnamon were talking quietly on the gazebo.  I
had no idea what had happened to Hailey.  Maybe she'd gone to bed, too.  As
I played with Ghost, I picked up a word or phrase, but nothing interesting
enough to try and translate from girl-speak to boy-speak.

   I reared back and launched the ball hard into the mini forest on the
back of the property, and Ghost took off.  I hoped his night vision was
good enough that he wouldn't run head-on into a tree.

   "His name was Kenny, wasn't it?"

   I froze.  I think I even stopped breathing as I processed that.  It was
Cinnamon's voice, damn her.

   "What?" Mikee and Kelly said together.

   I willed myself to move like Ghost.  To run and clamp my hand over her
mouth before she...

   "The boy who..."

   I'd only turned and taken a step before the words were coming out of
Cinnamon's mouth.

   "...  attacked you."

   Fuck!  Damn!  Shit!  Fuck!  I really needed a larger vocabulary for
situations like this.

   I was at the edge of the stairs, and even in the dim light I could see
the blood had drained from Mikee and Kelly's faces.  Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!

   Mikee surged to her feet.  "It was Kenny!"

   I jumped to the top of the stairs, and Mikee saw me.  "It was Kenny and
you didn't tell me!" she yelled as she leaped at me and smashed one fist
against my chin and the other against my chest.  Damn, the girl can hit.  I
think she loosened a tooth.  I grabbed her and pulled her into me, then
looked at Cinnamon.

   I think we'd finally managed to surprise her.  Maybe even shock her.  I
don't think she expected Mikee's outburst.  Holding Mikee tightly against
my chest, I stepped toward the stairs.  "Kenny's their brother," I
explained.

   I took Mikee down the stairs and back toward the trees, leaving Tami and
Cinnamon to deal with Kelly, though I didn't think she'd need that much
dealing with.  She'd mostly worked through her experience.

   I found a tree and slid down to the ground, my back against the trunk
and Mikee on my lap.  Ghost came over and lay a couple feet away, chewing
on the tennis ball.

   I held Mikee for awhile.  She didn't struggle; she hardly moved.  After
a few minutes I let go.

   SLAP!

   Mental note: add Mikee to the girls-I'm-afraid-of list.

   "Feel better?" I asked.

   SLAP!

   "I guess not."

   SLAP!

   "Mikee?"

   Mikee pulled her arm back to slap me again, but I grabbed her wrist.  "I
earned three, but that's enough." Why do I always let people hit me three
times?  Wouldn't two be enough?

   Mikee looked at me defiantly, trying to free her arm, then sagged and
started crying.  I let go of her wrist and pulled her close again and let
her cry.  As I held her, feeling her sob, I wondered if I should spank
Cinnamon, or maybe give her a kiss for getting it all out in the open.  I
decided on both.

   "You didn't tell me," Mikee said after a while, without lifting her
head. She was still crying, but not as hard.  "You didn't even tell me
she'd been raped."

   I held her without saying a word.  Mikee's a smart girl.

   "You were protecting her.  I know that," she said after a while.  "And I
love you for that." I held her a little tighter.  "But what about me?  He
lives in my house."

   I decided that silence worked once.  Besides, like I said, Mikee's a
smart girl.

   "He doesn't live in my house," she said a minute later.  She lifted her
head and looked at me.  "You sent him away.  That's why you wanted his
wallet.  You made them think he was dealing drugs."

   I could tell that Mikee wasn't sure what to feel.  On the one hand, she
knew I was protecting Kelly.  And her.  But on the other hand, Kenny was
her brother, and I sent him away.

   "Kenny was dealing drugs," I said finally.  "I just made sure he got
caught."

   "You set him up."

   "I had to make sure that Kelly was safe.  Not just physically safe, but
she had to believe she was safe.  And her sister, Michelle."

   I've said it before, Mikee is smart.  I could tell when she decided for
herself that I'd done the right thing.  "If you hadn't sent him away..."
her voice trailed off.

   "I would have had to hurt him.  Bad.  Like I said, I had to make sure
that Kelly and you were safe."

   Mikee leaned her head against my chest and sobbed again.  "How could he?
His own sister?  How..."

   Damn I really didn't want to do this now.  It had been such a good day.
But on the other hand, I wouldn't want to deal with this on a bad day
either.

   "I don't think he ever thought about it.  It's not like he planned it."
I couldn't believe I was defending Kenny Temple.  "He just...  your brother
was never big on self control.  The situation just kind of came up and
he... he..."

   Mikee lifted her head and kissed me gently, and we sat there for a long
time.

   I gave Mikee a last kiss and held open the flap of the tent for her. 
The other girls had disappeared from the gazebo, and I guessed that Tami
and Kelly were already asleep in the tent.  I didn't know if Cinnamon had
gone back to her own room, or was sleeping with my girls.

   I grinned as an evil thought crossed my mind.  From what Hailey said
about threesomes, sleeping with my girls had a whole other meaning.

   "Tony?" A soft voice said.  It took every ounce of self control I had
not to jump a foot in the air.  I only jumped three inches.  I looked for
the source of the voice and saw nothing.  I decided that either Zoe was
trying to contact me from the other side, or I'd gone delusional.

   "Tony," the voice said again.  A shadow separated itself from the gazebo
steps and Cinnamon stood up.  "We need to talk.  I mean, I need to talk and
you need to listen.  Well, I need to talk."

   It was the closest I'd seen my young cousin to tongue-tied.

   "Cinnamon..."

   "Please, Tony?  Let me speak first?  It would help if you didn't say
anything until I finished, because some things are not going to end the way
you think when I start them.  For instance, I'm not going to make excuses,
though it may sound that way for a sentence or two.  I take full
responsibility for my actions.  Not everyone in this family does, you know.
I think the majority of those who do are standing here together."

   I figured she was going to apologize for Mikee and Kelly.  "You don't
need..."

   Cinnamon stepped forward and put a finger across my lips to stop me,
then took my hand and led me to the gazebo.  We went inside.  She flipped a
switch, and soft lights came on.  We stood in the center and looked at each
other.

   She looked like she'd just had a thought.  "You've seen me play drums
now.  Everything I do is a big production number like that.  And that
includes fucking up.  This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last,
and no, there's no comfort for me in that."

   A soft smile crept onto her lips.  "Tony, I know much more about you
than you might think.  Part of it was from talking to Tami and the others,
but most of it was from observation.  I really thought that I'd see a clue
from you saying that it was okay to ask Kelly about Kenny."

   Why would I...  ?

   She shook her head.  "No, that's wrong.  I thought I would see a clue
saying it was NOT okay.  I'm not blaming you, I'm paying you a compliment.
Not many people can hide things from me.  You're one of a select few, and
you can do it while appearing so transparent.  It's really quite disarming,
actually, and a weapon you need to keep honed in your arsenal.  It will
serve you well later in life."

   A thirteen-year-old was giving me advice about later in life?  Then
Hailey's words about Cinnamon's life came back to me.  'No, ' I decided,
'she's only thirteen in physical age.'

   "I don't have to tell you how bad I feel right now.  I feel the same way
you would if our positions were reversed, and I have no more words to
describe it than you do.  I know that Hailey told you how seriously fucked
up this branch of your family is.  I thought I should spare you that.  I
was wrong, and I apologize for that, too.

   "Now: nobody told me this, mainly because I don't think any of them know
it.  Don't get excited and don't pee in your pants, just listen until I'm
finished.  What I have to say is between you and me, and I'm not going to
mention it to anyone else: not Wynter, not any of your friends, not even
Tami, and certainly not Hailey.  I am almost one hundred percent convinced
that Kenny Temple is in jail now thanks to a little help from you."

   She couldn't know.  She was guessing, I decided.

   Her eyes searched mine for a moment, and then she frowned.  "You need to
learn to control your pupil dilation.  They just confirmed what the rest of
your body did not.  Don't worry!  I'm not going to ask, and you don't have
to tell me.  I don't want you to tell me, so that I don't have to admit
that I know if anyone asks.  Want to hear a fairy tale?"

   I nodded because it seemed to be a rhetorical question anyway.

   "Once upon a time there was this town up in the Colorado Rockies.  In
this town lived a vile, disgusting eighth grader who preyed on youthful
innocence in the middle school.  Either by seduction through exploiting his
local fame as the school's star drummer or by blackmail or by intimidation,
he managed sixteen marks on the scorecard he kept in one of the school's
janitor closets.  He used the girls, marked his scores, and then dumped
them."

   "One day a new girl moved to town.  Instead of becoming number
seventeen, she made sure he never again added to that scorecard.  He's now
the guest of the State of Colorado."

   When she said nothing else, I connected the dots.  She'd 'helped' him
the way I'd helped Kenny Temple.  "I understand," was all I said.

   "Yes," she replied.  "I see you do.  By the way, I know your feelings
about Kenny Taylor, and I'm sure I know why.  He does think too much with
the wrong head.  But remember him mentioning in the ice cream parlor that
he'd been expelled for fighting?  It was for protecting Suzie from the
school's star pupil when the shithead made his initial move."

   Now I understood why he had no use for those who forced themselves
others.  "It's not that I don't like him, it's that I don't trust him. 
Hearing that, I like him a lot more, but I still don't trust him."

   Cinnamon smiled.  "You do, you know."

   I shook my head.  She was right, but I wasn't going to admit it to her.

   "I know what you're going through with Kelly and now, thanks to me, with
Mikee.  I went through it with all sixteen girls, to one degree or another.
Especially with these two cousins in my class.  Tony, they are the
sweetest, kindest, shyest girls you could ever hope to meet.  I worked with
them individually and together.  And for weeks, almost every night after
our sessions together I cried myself to sleep.  I think you'd have done the
same."

   I didn't ask what she'd done to the bastard.  She wouldn't tell me if I
did.  But I knew that whatever it was, she hadn't done enough.  I did know,
however, that she hadn't killed him because that would have been too kind.
"Cuz, I think you're the exception that makes up for the rest of the
family."

   She shook her head.  "No.  We are.  Could I have a kiss?"

   It was a brief kiss, a show of respect for each other.

   "One last thing," she said as she pulled back.  "And nobody's told me
any of this, either, and again you have my word that I won't say anything
that I'm about to say to you now to anyone else.  Hailey's made her move on
you, and you turned her down.  I know that more from observing her than
from you because I've known her for so long.  Don't think that she's given
up.  You are now a challenge, and she expects to win."

   'She can expect all she wants, ' I thought.

   "I asked myself why you'd turn her down.  Partly it's because of Tami,
but I'm not sure you'd do Hailey if Tami ordered you to because she came on
so strong.  Subtlety isn't a skill Wynter or I have been able to teach her.
It's a shame that her brain isn't as big as her heart or her libido. 
Anyway, fifty dollars at twenty-to-one says the other reason is that she's
your second cousin.  Well, I'm her first cousin, and I'm telling you that
you shouldn't worry about that."

   I thought about that.  Hell, I took that sentence apart and put it back
together again.  What the hell did Hailey and Cinnamon being cousins have
to do with anything?  "What do you mean?"

   The look she gave me reminded me of that antelope being watched by the
lion again.  "Well..." She gave me a playful look.  "The way that girl eats
pussy, you'd be leaving here without Robbie if she'd try Hailey.  And I'm
told she's just as good with the guys."

   Oh!

   I wondered if she'd used Robbie's name as a random example.  I was
deluding myself.  I knew better.  So how...  No!  She couldn't mean... 
could she?

   I decided I didn't want to think anymore about it.

   "Could I have one last kiss?" she asked.

   I wondered briefly if this was one of those run-don't-walk situations,
but decided, what the hell?  We'd been having a moment.

   When our lips touched, her arms rocketed around my neck and locked
there. Note for future reference: drummers have amazing arm strength. 
Before I could think of anything to say, not that I could speak with my
mouth full, she moaned and began convulsing.  She was having an orgasm from
nothing more than a kiss from me.

   Damn, I'm good!

   "I needed that," she said when she pulled away.  By the way, you
shouldn't feel guilty about that kiss.  And you should stop feeling guilty
about Traci, too."

   Damn mind readers.

   I watched Cinnamon disappear into the house.  Then I shook my head to
clear my thoughts.

   They needed a lot of clearing both from her words and her kiss.

   I walked to my tent and let myself in.  'It's going to seem strange
sleeping alone, ' I thought as I shucked my shirt, shorts and shoes.

   Big Tony had been in attendance most of the day and seemed glad to be
released from captivity.  I could hardly believe I hadn't cum during
Hailey's ministrations, but I was glad I hadn't given her the satisfaction.
Hell, I was even more surprised I hadn't cum during Cinnamon's kiss when I
realized she was cumming herself.

   I'd been expecting it earlier, when Tami told me that she wouldn't be
joining me tonight.  After all, we were camping in my uncle's, I mean my
cousin's, back yard.  It wouldn't be proper.  But then from what Hailey had
said, Cousin Mitch was doing the maid, so...  But Tami hadn't known that.

   Mitch and Rosita.  I grinned.  Hailey and Cinnamon.  Wynter and Jimmy.
Kenny and anything female.  Robbie and...  nope, not going there.

   I thought about trying to sleep.  I knew Tami's plan had been that I
wouldn't sleep alone, then I wouldn't need the booze.  I decided that booze
wasn't a factor anymore.  I didn't miss it, and I was sure I could sleep
without it.  What I couldn't sleep with was a throbbing boner.

   I reached down and lightly ran my fingertips along my shaft.  It had
been a long time since I'd needed to jack off, but I was sure it would all
come back to me.  I'd lie down, and half-a-dozen strokes while picturing my
two new cousins and I'd...

   "I could, like, do that for you."

   Hailey!  I couldn't see her, but I knew she was at the bottom of the
tent, lying on my sleeping bag.  And without seeing her I knew she was
naked.  If I thought I could spank her without her getting turned on, I'd
beat her butt black-and-blue.

   "Hailey, go to bed," I ordered.  My hand had jerked away from my cock
when Hailey spoke, and I really wanted to grab my cock again.

   The fourteen-year-old giggled.  "I'm in bed, silly."

   I realized that it was an argument I wasn't going to win.  But I wasn't
going to lose, either.

   "Fine," I agreed.  I knelt down, reached out, and started moving Hailey
to one side of the sleeping bag.  I felt some skin, lots of skin, but tried
not to think about what skin it was.  I slipped into the bag, then rolled
over, my back to the impetuous girl.  "Good night, Hailey."

   "Hey!" she shouted when she realized I intended to go to sleep.

   "Is for horses," I said, using a phrase Mrs.  Abbott, my first grade
teacher, had used a lot.  I'd always hated when she did it to me, but knew
it would annoy my cousin.

   "Now just a minute, Cuz.  I..."

   "I might have known I'd find you here," a new voice said.  The tent flap
was open, and a shadow filled the doorway.  The shadow came in, and the
flap closed.

   'There's two of them, ' I thought and closed my eyes.

   "He's being mean to me, Cuz," Hailey complained.

   "What's he doing?" Cinnamon asked.  I could hear the grin in her voice.

   "Nothing!" she said with so much discouragement in her voice I almost
laughed.  "Now he's, like, pretending to sleep."

   "I'm not pretending.  I'm trying.  There's a difference," I defended
myself.

   "You have to understand, it's hard for him," Cinnamon said.  I wondered
if the pun was intentional, 'cause with Hailey's warm front side molded to
my backside, it was hard all right.  Cinnamon's voice had gotten closer,
and I guessed she was standing right over us.

   "Tami said part of the reason for their trip was therapy.  That Tony
hasn't slept alone one night.  But tonight she just didn't feel right
sleeping with him in Dad's yard.  She said she really wished he didn't have
to sleep alone."

   She said that, huh?

   "But he so doesn't have to sleep alone," Hailey said, almost whining. 
"He's got me.  I mean, us."

   "Yeah, but he doesn't think cousins should do that sort of thing,"
Cinnamon explained.

   Damn right, I don't.  I tried to call up the image of Traci riding my
cock to stiffen my reserve, but instead remembered how snugly Big Tony had
fit in her pussy.  It wasn't my reserve that stiffened.

   Hailey giggled, and I remembered what Cinnamon had hinted at.  Hinted
at? Hell, she practically came out and said that she and Hailey were
lovers. Something about the way that girl ate pussy.

   "We'll just sleep with him for his therapy," Cinnamon said, slipping
into the bag.  My sleeping bag was made to sleep two adults comfortably. 
With Hailey and me, it was downright roomy.  But add Cinnamon, and it got
real cozy.

   Hailey moved, so that she wasn't molded to my backside.  Then I heard
the sound of kissing.  It didn't sound like lips on lips, but more like
lips on skin.  Hailey moaned, and an image of Cinnamon with her lips
pressed against Hailey's tit popped into my mind.

   I decided to forget about it and go to sleep.  After all, I was master
of my body.  I'd will Big Tony away and sleep peacefully, ignoring the two
nymphos behind me.  I sighed, ready for sleep.  Then I wondered what
Cinnamon's hands were doing while she licked Hailey's tit.  And with that
image flooding my brain, I knew sleep wasn't in my immediate future.

   Damn Tami!  Why'd she have to tell Cinnamon that I wasn't supposed to
sleep alone on this roadtrip?  And why'd she have to pick tonight to get
all proper?  Not wanting to sleep with me just because it was Cousin
Mitch's yard.  And then tell Cinnamon that she wished I wouldn't be alone.
Why...  ?

   Cue music.  In my brain, the Mission: Impossible music started.  Dah,
dah, dah-dah, dah, dah dah-dah...

   Cue fuse.  An image of a kitchen match being struck and held to the end
of a long fuse.  The fuse started burning.

   My baby set me up.

   Tami decided that I wanted to do one or both of my new cousins.  Well,
she was wrong.

   Behind me, Hailey started rocking.  Somehow I knew that Cinnamon's mouth
wasn't working her tits anymore but had moved south.  I remembered the look
of Hailey's pussy when she'd dropped her shorts for me.  Completely smooth.
Not a hint of stubble, so it didn't look like she shaved, but with those
tits, she must.

   Tami was wrong, I repeated to myself.  I had all I wanted.  I had Tami.
The others were more like a duty.  They were...

   Hailey started moaning.  More like whimpering, and I knew she was
cumming.

   Tami was getting too devious for her own good.  She'd just have to
understand that...

   "Deeper, deeper, deeper!" Hailey moaned.

   She'd have to understand that...

   Hailey's hand settled on my shoulder, and her nails started digging in.
"Oh fuck, yesssss!"

   I forgot what Tami would have to understand.

   You know, some scientists will tell you that pheromones won't work on
people because our ability to reason overcomes the instinctive reaction to
the pheromones.  Those scientists have obviously never shared a small tent
with two hot horny naked teenagers.

   I rolled over and faced my cousins.

   Cinnamon's head was worming it's way out of the sleeping bag.  She
looked at me.  "Sorry if we disturbed you.  I know you were trying to
sleep." She didn't sound sorry.  In fact, I could hear the grin in her
voice.

   For a second, I considered proving to Tami that she didn't need to
manipulate me.  I'd accept her apology, close my eyes again, and sleep the
sleep of the satisfied.  It was a long second.

   "Oh, shut up," I said, pushing Cinnamon off Hailey and rolling on top of
the two girls.  Big Tony found a warm slot, and I pressed forward, for the
moment not knowing or caring which one's it was.



   Chapter 19

   "I was wondering..."

   Part of my brain reacted to Tami's voice, but the rest just concentrated
on keeping the van between the lines on the road.  Hell, I was having
enough trouble just keeping my eyes open.

   "...  how much Cinnamon is there in you?"

   That got my eyes open.  For a second I panicked.  Was Tami jealous?  I
mean, she'd given permission.  Or maybe I just thought she did.  Maybe I
read too much into a couple of off-hand remarks she'd made to Cinnamon.

   "I mean, how much of you is there in Cinnamon?"

   'About a cup and a half, ' I thought, remembering the five separate
deposits I'd left in my redheaded cousin.  "Uh..."

   "I'm not saying it right," Tami said.  "When we have kids, how much
Cinnamon will they have?"

   It took a second, but I untangled her sentence, then applied real logic
to girlspeak and tried to anticipate the path of female logic that got us
here.

   "Well, half of me comes from my mom, so a quarter comes from Grandma
Vickie.  Vickie was Cinnamon's grandmother's sister, so an eighth comes
from Gran's mom.  Which means our kids will have a sixteenth of Cinnamon's
DNA." I don't think I'd pass genetics with that analysis, but I was pretty
sure I'd answered Tami's question.  "Why?"

   "I was just thinking how hard it would be to raise a girl like
Cinnamon."

   I grinned and concentrated on the road.  "Actually, I think she's
raising herself.  I don't think you have to worry.  Our kids are going to
have my looks and your brains.  They'll be a snap."

   Tami laid her hand on my thigh, which woke me up enough to avoid the
motorcycle that pulled off the shoulder without signaling.  "What if they
have my looks and your brains?" She asked.

   "Then we could be in trouble.  Maybe we'll get lucky, and they'll take
after their Aunt Traci.  She's kind of slow."

   "I heard that," came a sleepy voice from the back.

   It had been a quiet morning.

   A little after nine I heard Rosita yelling about breakfast.  I opened my
eyes in time to see Hailey take a deep breath.  I clamped my hand over her
mouth and Cinnamon's too, for good measure, then yelled back that I was
awake and would be in in just a minute.  I didn't know if Rosita would be
surprised to hear either Cinnamon or Hailey in my tent, but figured I
didn't want to find out the hard way.

   Hailey licked my hand as I pulled it away.  Cinnamon just looked... 
amused.

   "Oooh, kinky stuff," Hailey cooed.  "Are we going to do ropes and gags
and things now?"

   While the bondage scene has never turned me on, I had no trouble
picturing Hailey naked and tied spread-eagled on a bed.

   "We are going to get dressed and go into breakfast like an ordinary and
dull set of cousins," I told her stiffly.

   Hailey pouted for three or four seconds, then stood, bending over again
to pick up her clothes.  "Pickledick," I heard her mumble.

   My hand, without bothering to wait for input from my brain, shot in the
air and slapped down hard on her bare ass.  It made a satisfying crack as
she jumped forward at least a foot.  And made an even more satisfying
handprint.

   Cinnamon grinned, shaking her head slowly.  "You know that'll just
encourage her." She pulled on her shirt, covering her magnificent tits. 
I'd decided that they were bigger than Darlene's, but just barely.  The
TVLand network sometimes ran old commercials.  There was one for a
cigarette that was 'a silly little millimeter longer.  I decided that
Cinnamon's tits were a silly little millimeter bigger.

   I looked at Cinnamon and shrugged.  Or I should say I looked up from her
tits to her face and shrugged.  "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

   Breakfast was pretty peaceful.

   Or as peaceful as could be expected with a table of nine teenagers.

   Rosita made omelettes to order and piled the table high with hash
browns, bacon and sausage.  Afterward, everybody hugged everybody else as
we said our goodbyes.

   I was loading the van and the trailer when Huntly and Wynter showed up,
and the hugging and the goodbyes started all over again.  Not that I
minded. Hugging cousins Cinnamon and Hailey was a treat, not to mention
adopted cousin Wynter.

   I noticed a look pass between Wynter and Cinnamon, and then Cinnamon
passed a half smile back, and somehow I had a feeling that Wynter had just
been fully briefed on last night's sleeping arrangements.  Damn female
telepathy.

   Huntly had brought a football for Robbie to autograph, and it didn't
take much persuasion to get her to throw a couple passes.  I was drafted to
receive.  Huntly wanted to see Robbie tackle someone, but Cinnamon put her
foot down and said it wouldn't be Huntly.  There was a short private
discussion, and I caught the words 'knee, ' 'skiing, ' and 'shithead.'

   Then the universe smiled.  Kenny showed up.

   I looked over to where Huntly was still arguing with Cinnamon.  "Huntly,
watch this," I yelled, then nodded to Robbie.  "Kenny, head's up," I
yelled, then lobbed a short pass right into his surprised arms.  Robbie was
half-a-second behind it.  She hit him at the waist, and they sailed six or
seven feet before landing with a loud thud.

   I grinned at Huntly.  "That's how Monster Girl hits." I walked over to
the pile and offered Robbie a hand up.

   "That was mean," she said softly as I pulled her to her feet.

   "Why tell me?  You're the one who hit him."

   Robbie shook her head and walked over to Huntly and Cinnamon.

   Kenny looked slightly panicked as he fought to get air back in his
lungs. I knelt, put my palm on his sternum, and pressed, instructing him to
take small breaths.  A minute later he was breathing normally again, and I
helped him to his feet.

   He looked at me, then Robbie's back, then back at me.  "Holy shit!" he
said finally.

   I grinned and slapped him on the back.  I had to admit, I was impressed.
He'd held onto the ball.  "Want to do it again?"

   I was pretty sure it was the first time in his life that Kenneth Taylor
ever said no to playing with a girl.

   It was almost an hour later before I put the van in drive and pulled
away.

   Now, another hour later, I was just trying to stay awake as I piloted us
down the highway toward Wyoming.  For some reason, I didn't get much sleep
last night.

   "Where are you going?" Tami asked.  "These aren't the directions I gave
you.

   "New plan," I said simply.  The idea that I had a little control back in
my life helped wake me up.

   "What new plan?"

   "Well, Robbie let it slip that were we going to Cheyenne today.  It
didn't take much imagination to figure out we're spending the night at Curt
Gowdy State Park." Not much imagination, just a few minutes on Cinnamon's
computer and my cell phone.  "I'll get us there."

   "How?  You're going the wrong way."

   "You know what they say, 'All roads lead to Rome.'"

   "What's Rome got to do with it?  We're going to Wyoming."

   "Oops.  That could be a problem." I looked at her and grinned.

   Tami pouted.  Tami's not a world-class pouter.  She doesn't get enough
practice.  But she's good enough to let me know she's annoyed.  I grinned
at the back of her head and kept driving.

   Half-an-hour later we pulled into the parking lot.  Cinnamon had given
me directions to miss most of the traffic and construction.  Tami had
fallen asleep pouting, but as I stopped the van she and the other girls all
starting waking up.

   "Where are we?" was mumbled in some form by all of them.

   "Check it out," I said, pointing at the amusement park off to our left.

   Personally, I think fifteen bucks for parking is a bit steep, especially
when they're going to charge us almost fifty bucks a head for admission,
but Six Flags/Elitch Gardens was supposed to be worth it.

   We all got out and stretched while the girls ohhed and ahhed over what
we could see.

   "Since you don't like me changing your plans, you can wait here," I
suggested to Tami.  I slipped my arms around Darlene and Robbie.  "We
should be back by three."

   Tami's replay was not suitable for children.  Or Arab sailors for that
matter.

   We headed for the gate.  Getting us in wiped out my cash.  In fact, I
had to borrow ten from Robbie, but I figured a place with prices like these
had more than one ATM inside.

   Inside, the problems started.  Elitch had dozens of thrill rides and
everybody wanted to start on something different.  That and the place was
packed because it was both a Saturday and the start of the Fourth of July
three-day weekend.  Finally, Tami and Mikee headed for the Tower of Doom,
Traci and Kelly choose The Halfpipe, and Darlene, Robbie, and I The Mind
Eraser.

   When we met up at the gate at three, I was almost glad the lines had
kept us to only five rides.  I was wondering if we should head back and
have Wynter check and make sure all my internal organs were back in the
right spots.

   "Let's hit the water park next," Robbie suggested.

   "Nope, time to go," I said, putting my foot down.

   If you can imagine six donkeys braying in your ear from about a foot
away, then you can imagine the next fifteen minutes.  But for once I got my
way, and twenty minutes later we were back in the van and Tami was aiming
us for I-25.

   'Meanie", was the nicest thing any of them called me.

   We'd only been on the freeway five minutes when I heard, "Ut-O", from
the back.  Mikee, Kelly, and Traci were sitting back there, but I didn't
have a clue which one said it.  When I looked back, they were all turned
around and staring out the back window.

   "What'd you do?" I asked Tami, pointing to the flashing lights in the
rear-view mirror.

   "Shit!"

   Tami pulled over to the side and put the van in park.  She kept looking
from the mirror to me.  I shrugged and turned around to watch the Denver
Police cruiser pull in behind us.  A black cop got out of the driver's side
and a white one from the passenger side.  The black cop walked up to the
window.  Tami rolled it down.

   "License and registration please." I refused to believe that he sounded
like Jack Webb on Dragnet without practicing.

   Tami nervously starting looking through her purse while I opened the
glove compartment and looked for the registration.  "What's the problem,
officer?" she asked as she pulled out her laminated driver's license.  I
handed her the registration.

   The cop studied it, then opened the door.  "Step back here please." Tami
looked at me, then got slowly out of the car and followed the officer back
to his car.  I noticed the other officer was still standing by the
passenger door of the cruiser.

   "What's going on?" Robbie asked.

   I turned back toward the front and shrugged as I watched the traffic
whizz by us.

   "He's handcuffing her!" Mikee squealed.

   "We're getting out of here!" I slid into the driver's seat, pulled the
door closed, slammed the van into drive, and took off.  It would have been
a more impressive escape in my car instead of a mini-van pulling a trailer.

   "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Robbie yelled.  "Anthony
Marion S...  Wait a minute."

   I turned off the first exit, pulled around and got back on the freeway
going back.

   "That's Tami," Robbie said, as if that explained everything.  "If there
were a dozen flesh-eating zombies with machine guns, you wouldn't run out
on Tami."

   I grinned and took the third exit.

   "If you want to keep all your anatomy intact..." Robbie didn't finish
her threat, but I had no trouble knowing what part of my anatomy she was
threatening.

   "The other cop was daddy," I explained as I pulled back into the
Elitch's parking lot.  "He's taking her to an early dinner."

   "She's going to hurt you so good," Traci said, which pretty much summed
up the situation.

   "In the mean time, there's a water park with our name on it."

   "Tell that thing you call your brother that I'm never speaking to him
again." Tami was standing at the head of the table, tapping her foot.  Me,
I was at peace with the world.  I'd just had one of the best hamburgers
ever.  An e-mail friend had told me about Fatburger in Aurora.  Now I owed
him big.  After two hours in the water park, we'd driven over.

   Traci looked at me.  "Tami says..." I nodded and grabbed the last onion
ring and popped it in my mouth.

   "Tell Tami the honeymoon will still be lots of fun."

   Traci looked as if delivering the message was on the bottom of her list
of things she wanted to do, right after poking her eye out with sharp
stick. Traci looked up at Tami.

   "Tell your brother I wouldn't go on a honeymoon with him if he was the
last man on Earth." Tami was getting louder, and by now we were the center
of attention in the crowded restaurant.  The place had a loud jukebox, and
I do mean loud, but it had turned off just before her entrance while the
attendant emptied the money or whatever.  I had to admire his timing.

   I looked over at Mikee.  "What about it?  After Tami and I get married,
want to go on the honeymoon with me?"

   Mikee held out both hands, palms towards me.  "Do I look stupid?  I
ain't getting in the middle of this."

   I stood, took a couple quick steps, and grabbed Tami's arm.  Then I
started at her hand and kissed my way up, a la Gomez Addams.  "You", kiss,
"are", kiss, "the", kiss, "most", kiss, "beautiful", kiss, "girl", kiss,
"in", kiss, "the", kiss, "world." Kiss, "How's", kiss, "your", kiss, "dad?"
I asked as I got to her shoulder.

   Tami looked like she wanted to stomp her foot or hit something.  "I hate
you," she said, then grabbed my head and pulled me into a long kiss.  "He
thinks you're wonderful.  I think you're mean."

   I stepped back and cocked my head.  "Don't you feel like you're home?" I
said in a high falsetto.  "She's on your list.  I figured you should meet
her." I added in the same voice.

   Tami looked stern for several more seconds, then her face broke and she
laughed.  "I guess that was pretty mean too," she admitted.  "But they
handcuffed me."

   I decided that pointing out that handcuffs were probably not out of the
realm of possibility with Cinnamon and Hailey was not in my best interests.
"When did you realize it was your dad?"

   Tami smiled.  "In the car.  He started laughing when Ray, his friend
from Denver PD, started talking about rubber hoses in the back room and
breaking up the Tami and Tony mob."

   I remembered the cop's Jack Webb voice and grinned.

   "Friends?" I asked.

   "That depends on who's in your sleeping bag tonight," Tami said
seductively.  Then she realized that we were still the center of attention.
"Oh, God!" she yelped as she turned bright red and ran out of the room.

   I grinned and bowed.  "Next show at eight," I announced and followed
her.



   Chapter 20

   "Do you think we'll survive?"

   I squeezed Tami's hand in response.  Actually, I squeezed her hand to
buy time.  Tami had a bad habit of asking questions without any clue to
context.  With Tami, the question could mean anything.  Would the human
race survive the threat of nuclear or biological war?  Or would our
relationship survive?  Maybe more specifically, would it survive my
cousins? Maybe it was about the group.  Would we all make it through this
road trip?  Hell, it could even be would the football team make it through
the regular season to play-offs?

   Before I could frame an all-encompassing reply, Robbie spoke up, "Of
course you won't survive.  Everything dies.  Even the thing between you
two. Even the Sun's gonna die.  I figure you'll last a week, maybe two
after that."

   I squeezed Tami's hand again.  A million years, give or take.  I guess I
can live with that.

   The drive to Cheyenne and Curt Gowdy State Park had been routine.  Mikee
drove.  She was becoming a lot more confident, though she still liked Tami,
Robbie, or me to ride shotgun.  It took us a shade over two hours, though
we flew once we got to I-25.

   It was after eight when we pulled into our camp site, but with a lot of
help from the girls, the tents went up quickly.  Then I invited Tami for a
quiet romantic walk and wound up the center of a mob.

   Tami leaned her head against my shoulder as we walked, and I changed
hands from my left to my right, then slid my left around her back and into
the pocket of her cut-offs.  The world was not a bad place.

   "I was surprised that you didn't have us doing a show," Mikee said.  "I
mean, they have a cool amphitheater and everything."

   I felt, more than heard, Tami sigh.  "When I planned this, I figured
you'd want a break after the last show." From the corner of my eye, I
noticed Tami chewing her bottom lip.

   "I feel like finally winning a game of Monopoly," I announced.  "Why
don't you ladies head back and set it up, and we'll be there in a minute."

   Robbie gave me a look, one I felt like she'd stolen from Cousin
Cinnamon, then started herding the others back down the trail before they
could weigh in with opinions.

   "So what is wrong with having a night off?" I asked when we were alone.

   "Nothing.  It's just..." she trailed off.

   There was a log next to the trail.  I sat, pulling Tami onto my lap.  "I
have all night.  And we're not going anywhere until you tell me what's
wrong.  The trick with your dad?"

   Tami smiled, then tried to glare and broke into giggles.  "No.  That was
mean, and I'm never forgiving you, but that's not it."

   "Never's a long time," I pointed out and kissed her neck.

   Tami giggled again.  "It's just..."

   I kissed her ear and nibbled on her earlobe as I waited.

   "I mean, everything's going wrong."

   I froze, Tami's earlobe still between my lips.  'Cinnamon and Hailey, '
I thought.

   "No, that's not what I mean.  Not everything.  But I had this big finish
planned..."

   I relaxed, gave her earlobe a last lick, and asked, "Big finish?"

   Tami sighed.  "For the trip.  Then the show last night was so much
bigger than I expected and now..."

   I kissed her forehead.  "And now, you're worried that your big finish
will be an anti-climax."

   Tami nodded.

   I kissed her forehead again, then her nose, and finally her lips,
gently. "So what?"

   "But..."

   "But nothing.  Tami this trip has been fantastic.  And if everything is
downhill from here, who cares?  We're still having fun."

   Tami smiled and kissed me back.  "How'd you get so wise?"

   I grinned.  "Beverly Hillbillies reruns.  Jed Clampett is the greatest
philosopher of our era."

   Tami laughed, then climbed off my lap.  "Come on.  I feel like winning
at Monopoly for once."

   I stood, slipping my hand around her back and into it's accustomed place
in her pocket.  "Second, maybe.  I'm going to win."

   "In your dreams," she challenged as I felt her hand slip into my back
pocket.

   I was the first one out of the game when I landed on one of Darlene's
reds.  Tami was second, but we didn't care.  We slipped quietly into the
small tent and left the others to their game.