Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿The Trailer Park: The Fifth Year: Part 1: Words And Music A Story in the
Wynter/Trailer Park Universe by Wizard CopyrightÂ(C) 2007 by Wizard

   Chapter 6

   "Tony, where are you heading?" Mr.  Calloway was leaning out of his
classroom.

   "I have P.E.  in five minutes."

   "I have a free period.  Could I see you for a few minutes.  I don't
think Mr.  Vickers will mind."

   I nodded, then looked around the hall, spotting Toby Reyes.  He had P.E.
this period too.  "Hey, Toby!" I yelled to get his attention.  A minute
later I was walking into Mr.  Calloway's room and Toby was going to tell
Coach Vickers why I was late.

   "What can I do for you coach?" I asked as he leaned against the front of
his desk and I took a seat in the first row.

   "I hear you quit football.  Planning on quitting baseball too?"

   "Depends.  You planning to retire and let Parker replace you?

   "Mr.  Parker," he said automatically, then added, "No, retirement isn't
in my plans this year."

   "Good.  Let's go ahead and start spring training then.  Get a jump on
the competition."

   Coach Calloway smiled.  "And the WSAA will jump on us." The Washington
School Activities Association decided when pre-season practice could start.

   "Just a thought."

   "About football.  Have..."

   "Yes, sir.  I've thought about it, and this is the right decision for
me."

   "I know you and Mr.  Parker don't always see eye-to-eye, but..."

   "Do they teach understatement in teacher's college?"

   "What?" I think the question surprised the coach.

   "It's just you're the fourth teacher today to say that Parker and I
don't see eye-to-eye, and I've only had two classes."

   "We're ganging up on you?"

   I nodded.  "Along with my parents, Tami's mom, Robbie's dad, and all
four of my grandparents."

   "We just know how much you love the game, and don't want to see you
making a mistake."

   "And I appreciate that.  I really do.  But this is the right decision."

   Coach Calloway nodded.  "So who do you like in the World Series this
year?" I knew it was his way of saying that he accepted my decision.

   "Who do I like, or who do I think is going to win?" I never did make it
to P.E.

   I knew seventh period was going to be my favorite class.  Debate.  I'd
heard great things about the class from students who'd had it last year. 
Mrs.  Conners taught it; in fact it was the only class she taught.  She was
usually the librarian, but she'd been a national champion in college two
years in a row.

   We sat down.  She had the desks arranged in a circle with her at the
center.  When the bell rang, she pointed at me.  "Tony, resolved: teachers
are underpaid and should have their salaries doubled.  Three arguments
against."

   "Uh..." Damn, that was a loaded question.  "In the current financial
situation, doubling salaries would have to mean less teachers."

   "One," she enumerated, holding up a finger.

   "Raising salaries for teachers will cause a demand to raise salaries for
other school personnel.  Janitors, secretaries, administrators."

   "Two."

   It would be so much easier to argue the other way.  "Doubling teacher
salaries will cause an influx of new teachers, making it harder to get
quality teachers."

   "Interesting.  How will more teachers make quality go down."

   "Since determining quality in teachers is pretty much subjective, it's
hard to determine who the good teachers are.  And there will be more bad
ones, since more of them will be in it just for the money."

   "Three.  Very good."

   "Tami, How would you argue against Tony's first reason."

   Tami looked like she wanted to switch to a safer class.  "We wouldn't
have less teachers, we'd increase the economic base."

   "How?"

   "Uh, taxes."

   "So you're willing to lower your standard of living so that I can drive
a Mercedes instead of a Volkswagen." Mrs.  Conners' Volkswagen was almost
legendary.  Her dad had bought it in 1949, the first year Volkswagens were
sold in the U.S.  In fact, they sold two that year, though I don't know who
bought the other one.  He gave it to Mrs.  Conners for her seventeenth
birthday, and she'd been driving it ever since.

   "Uh...  I guess."

   "Think about it." She spun and pointed at a boy on the other side of the
circle.  "Why shouldn't tobacco be outlawed?"

   She hit all eight other students before, "Resolved: football is barbaric
and should be banned from school sports.  Robbie, sell me."

   Robbie looked as if she'd been asked to defend Lucifer in the Vatican,
but managed to sell it.

   "You've got me convinced.  Ladies and gentlemen, this class is about
thinking.  If you don't want to think, the door is over there.  Sometimes,
like today, you will have to think of an argument and present it coherently
with no preparation.  Sometimes you will have time to research and prepare,
but either way, you will think.  I..."

   The door opened and Bobbi Hills, a sophomore came in and handed her a
note.

   Mrs.  Conners looked annoyed but read it and nodded to the office aide,
who scurried away.

   "Tony, Mr.  Parker would like to see you."

   Tami and Robbie on ether side of me gave me their what-did-you-do-now
looks, but I shrugged and started gathering my stuff.

   As I walked out, I was surprised to see by the clock over the door that
only ten minutes had passed.

   I wasn't very surprised to wait for fifteen minutes after I got to the
office.

   Mrs.  Hatcher's phone buzzed, and she waved me in as she answered
another call.

   I stepped to the principal's door and took a deep breath, noting that
Parker had wasted no time moving in despite the fact that he was only the
acting principal.  I knocked, heard him say "Enter." and let myself in.

   "Tony, be with you in a minute," he said cheerily.  "Never quite catch
up on the paperwork." He sounded friendly, and I wondered if he was a pod
person.  I made a note to see if UFO activity in the area was increasing.
"Have a seat."

   There were three chairs in front of the desk.  I took the center one.

   A minute later, Luke Hastings came in and shut the door behind him.

   Parker looked up.  "Mr.  Sims, Tony, even when you're not being a
problem, you're a problem for me." He still sounded friendly.  I had no
idea how to answer that, so I just nodded.

   "It's only the first day of school, and already I've had seven teachers
suggest that I need to get you back on the football team."

   Only five had talked to me, I wondered who the other two were.

   "I know you and I don't always see eye-to-eye..."

   There's that phrase again.  I wondered if it was a requirement for
accreditation.

   "...  but I'm hoping we can work that out.  I know the team would be
happier if you came back."

   He was being so nice that I decided to be nice back.  "I appreciate the
offer, but I think it would be better if I sit on the sidelines and cheer
the team on."

   "I see." He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.  "In that
case, you're suspended.  Two weeks." He sounded so reasonable.  As if all
he had said was today's lunch is hamburger gravy over rice, which
unfortunately, it had been.

   "Excuse me."

   "There's no excuse for that kind of language," he said with a smile.

   "What language?  Cheer?  Team?"

   "You called Mr.  Parker a mutha-fucker, a bastard, and an asshole," Luke
said from where he was standing by the door."

   My rage lasted a fraction of a second, then was replaced by a calm
acceptance.  Mr.  Parker's new attitude, Luke as a witness.  I really
should have seen something coming.  Robbie will be ashamed.

   I leaned back and steepled my fingers, almost mirroring the vice
principal.  "Would it make any difference if I changed my mind about the
team?" Not that I would, but I was curious.

   "Do you really think I want you on my team?" He really should have added
a maniacal laugh to punctuate the question.  "A few busybody teachers seem
to think it would be a good thing.  Richard Calloway even called you the
heart of the team, but not after today."

   I made a note to thank the coach for that, though I think Robbie was the
heart.

   "Shall I go now, or do you need to wait for a parent?" I'd like to think
my calmness shook him a little, but I wasn't sure.

   "You can go."



   Chapter 7

   I heard the patrol car crunching gravel before I saw it in my rear view
mirror.  It pulled up behind me and parked.

   "I'm guessing this is official, so I should say, 'What can I do for you
deputy?' instead of how you doing Dan?"

   "It's official," he confirmed.  Dan Boyd walked around the car and got
in on the passenger side.  "We got a complaint that you refused to leave
school property."

   "I'm just waiting to pick up Tam."

   "But you've been suspended?"

   "Yep, about twenty minutes ago.  Apparently there are several words
you're not supposed to use when referring to your vice principal."

   Deputy Boyd look surprised, but nodded.  "You do know that when you're
suspended you can't be on school grounds?"

   "School's out in ten.  I'll pick up Tami and be on my way."

   Deputy Boyd hesitated.  After all, I was trying to be reasonable.  "I
can't let you stay," he said after a few seconds.  "The school complained."

   "I see.  Just out of curiosity, who complained?"

   "Charlie Parker called the sheriff."

   "What happens if I don't leave?"

   "I arrest you." He sounded like he'd regret that.

   "If I didn't mind leaving Tami stranded, I'd let you.  Could be fun."

   "Tony, this isn't a joke.  Getting arrested and getting a record is no
laughing matter."

   "Dan, do you know where you are?"

   "I...  of course."

   "Really?  You're sitting in Bob Sorrenson's pasture.  He lets the school
use it for overflow parking.  That's why it isn't paved."

   Dan nodded.  It was one of those things you knew but never thought
about. Sorrenson had been letting the school use it longer than I'd been
alive.

   "I know Mr.  Sorrenson.  I doubt he has any problem with me parking
here, but if he does, I'll move."

   Deputy Boyd nodded with a hint of a smile and started getting out. 
"What exactly did you call Charley?"

   I shrugged.  "You'd have to ask Luke Hastings.  It's a little fuzzy to
me."

   Tami came out of the school and looked around.  I had to honk three
times before she saw me, since I'd parked next to the school that morning.

   "Why are you over here?"

   "I decided not to wait until March."

   "March?  What does March have to do with anything.  I...  Oh, Tony, not
again." I nodded.  "What happened?"

   "Long story.  Can you wait until Robbie comes over to beat me up."

   "Again?"

   I nodded.

   We drove to the middle school and picked up Traci and Kelly, then
dropped them at the gym.  I hadn't told Gary that I wasn't doing football
yet.  I was kind of enjoying having some free time.

   Just before dinner I suggested to Tami that she spend some quality time
with her future sister-in-law.  One thing about Tami, she takes hints
really well.

   "I have some news," I said as I walked into the living room.

   Dad looked at Mom.  "It's not good, is it?"

   She shrugged, "This time, your guess is as good as mine." I was hoping
they'd continue their by-play and forget about me, but I didn't get that
lucky.

   "I'm suspended," I said when they looked at me.  "Two weeks."

   "The first day of school," Dad said in shock.

   "I guess I wasn't ready for summer to end."

   "What happened?" Mom asked.

   "The report's going to say I cussed out Parker."

   Mom nodded.  "And what do you say?"

   I thought about that.  It pretty much came down to I-said-he-said.  I
had faith my parents would believe me, but why bother?  "I can't argue with
the report."

   A look passed between them that I couldn't read, and wasn't sure I
wanted to.  "So, grounded until I'm thirty?  Chores sixteen hours a day?"

   It seemed like hours before Mom answered.  "Just make sure to pick up
your little sister."

   "That's it?" I asked, amazed.

   "Don't spend all day watching soaps.  Read something educational," Dad
added.

   "Uh, okay."

   "Go call Tami and Traci for dinner.  I'll dish up."

   I walked off in bewilderment.

   "So I was thinking," I said after I'd explained the day's events.  "I
can put a tape recorder in my pocket and go talk to Mr.  Parker and get him
to gloat and..."

   "Which one are you, Frank or Joe?" Robbie interrupted.

   "Huh?"

   "If you're going to play Hardy Boys, you have to pick: Frank or Joe?"

   "But, I..."

   "Tony, it's okay.  You're not very bright.  But that's why you have Tami
to take care of you."

   "That's my job," Tami agreed, getting off the bed and coming over to
stand behind me and rub my shoulders.

   "Not a great plan?" I asked as Tami's fingers dug into my neck.  I
hadn't realized I was all tensed up.

   "One, you have no reason to talk to Parker for two weeks," Robbie
pointed out.

   "Unless you were going in to beg him to reconsider," Tami added.

   "And you ain't that good an actor," Traci finished.

   I felt outnumbered.

   "So what do I do?" My voice was almost a whine.

   "You stay home and watch soaps," Traci suggested.

   "Dad said I should read something educational."

   Robbie smiled.  "My dad just got a new book on Carthage.  I'll bring it
over."

   "So you can stay here, read, and get educated.  We'll go to school and
probably learn nothing," Tami said in a fake moan.  "Life just ain't fair."



   Chapter 8

   The doorbell rang.  It was the high point of my day so far.

   Freedom isn't over-rated, but it can be boring.

   I put down my book, Harrison's A Stainless Steel Rat is Born.  I'd
decided to re-read the series in chronological instead of published order.
I stretched and answered the door.

   "What are you doing here?" I asked astonished.

   "That's the thanks I get for breaking out of maximum security to come
see you."

   Robbie's grinning face was just the tonic I needed.

   "Maximum security?"

   "Parker's been on the warpath all day.  I had to slither through the
sewers, then climb the tower and hand-over-hand across the high tension
lines to get over the wall."

   "We don't have a wall."

   Robbie pouted.  "Sims, you take all the fun out of life."

   I shrugged.

   "Okay, so I waited till he was busy in the library and made a break for
the parking lot.  My little Rodrigo did the rest." Robbie had a Honda that
her dad had given her for her sixteenth birthday, and for some reason had
named it Rodrigo.  I'd tried to explain that cars are always female.  She'd
nodded, and it was still Rodrigo.  "But if he knew I was coming to see you,
it'd be worse."

   I grunted in agreement.

   "Grab a couple Cokes and let's go up front and throw a football around."

   "I'm retired," I pointed out.

   Robbie cocked her head and looked at me for a second, then turned, went
down the steps, and headed for the front of the park.  I grinned, got two
Cokes out of the refrigerator, and followed.

   "So when do you come back?" Robbie asked.  We were on the front lawn
about ten yards apart, just throwing lightly.

   "Not sure," I said and tossed the ball back.  "Parker said two weeks. 
If he meant that literally, I come back a week from Monday.  If he meant
ten school days, it'll be the next Tuesday cause of Labor Day next week."

   "You know," she said, sailing the ball straight into my stomach, "it's
hard to believe that Parker would do something like this.  I mean, you two
have had your problems, but to lie and set you up?"

   I threw the ball back and waited.  I figured about three seconds should
do it.  One-elephant.  Two-elephant.  Three-elephant.

   "I didn't mean...  It's not that...  I..."

   I grinned.  "Robbie, it's time to breathe now."

   I waited while she relaxed.  After a second, she grinned back and
side-armed the ball to me.

   "You're right," I said.  "This is a little over-the-top, even for
Parker. But to understand, you have to think like an aging bureaucrat."

   "I'm not sure I can."

   I tossed the ball, then waved toward the swing set.  We grabbed the
Cokes and went to sit down.  "The first thing you have to realize is that I
was ruining his plan."

   "What plan?"

   "Try to imagine you're an aging administrator."

   Robbie started swing.  "He's not that old, is he?"

   I grinned, pushed off, and tried to catch my swing up to hers.  "Perhaps
you haven't read my corollary to Einstein's Theory of Relativity.  He says
time is relative.  I say aging is."

   "Really?"

   "Yep.  Look, we're sixteen.  Most of the time, to us, anyone over thirty
seems ancient.  But intellectually we know it isn't, it just feels that
way. To a six-year-old, we're ancient."

   "Speak for yourself, kemo sabe."

   I grinned, though she couldn't see me.  We were swinging arcs of maybe
two-hundred-and-twenty degrees, but I was about ten degrees behind her. 
"Anyway.  Parker is somewhere between mid-forties and early-fifties.  It
seems old to us, but we know in the real world it isn't that far gone. 
But..."

   "Yes?"

   "In the world of public education it kind of is.  Somebody who hasn't
made principal by fifty or so, probably won't."

   "Okay, say I buy all this.  I'm not sure I see the connection to you
getting suspended."

   "Like I said, I got in the way of the plan.  Parker's getting older.  He
really lucked into the vice principal job or he'd still be a middle school
vice."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Miss Carlyle retired to help take care of a sick father, and the
district had a sudden vacancy to fill without enough time to advertise the
job before the school year started.  So here's Parker two years ago,
finally a high school vice.  I'd be willing to bet that he's sent out
dozens of applications for principal jobs, and I'd go double-or-nothing
that he hasn't even gotten short-listed."

   I put my feet down and skidded to a stop.  "Add to that, he's gotten
dozens of complaints, and not all of them from the Sims family, and he's
been over-ruled by the superintendent several times.  And he's applied for
the principal job at our school and the board didn't jump at it.  He's just
the acting principal.  Put that all together and you have a picture of a
man in a dead-end."

   Robbie slowed and stopped beside me.  "So he came up with a plan."

   "Maybe not so much a plan as an opportunity that dropped in his lap. 
You see, his school had this hot football team that almost took the state
championship."

   "Do tell," Robbie said with enough sarcasm to wither plants.

   "And while several players graduated, the all-state quarterback was
coming back, along with his two superstar teammates who got ripped in the
voting."

   "Poor baby," she said without a trace of sympathy.

   "And, and here's the good part, the coach was moving up to Oregon State,
so that left another lucky vacancy."

   "You figure he thought coaching a state championship team would look
good on his resume?"

   I nodded.  "Got it in one.  He figured Branson left a good team, and
though I hate to admit it, Parker knows football.  If he knew anything
about people, he could be a hell of a coach."

   "So if we get him a championship, he'll leave?"

   "Probably."

   "Damn, we're going to play our hearts out.  So why weren't you out there
trying to win one for the Gipper?"

   I shrugged.  "Mostly cause I didn't figure it out until Monday night. 
Tami and I talked about it.

   "Okay, I've got it about his plan, but why set you up?"

   "Because all of a sudden it wasn't a sure thing anymore.  If I'd bit the
bullet and played, with our team, districts were almost inevitable.  And
while state wasn't a shoo-in, we almost certainly would have gone far
enough to make him look good.  On paper at least."

   "Okay."

   "But then a star player walks off."

   "Mr.  Star."

   I grinned.  "Sometimes modesty and reality are hard to reconcile. 
Anyway, a star player quits and the story about why starts going around. 
Then a bunch of teachers start suggesting that he needs to ask me to come
back.  If I hadn't gotten suspended, well, I happen to know that four of
the school board members never missed a home game last year, and Mr. 
Whitting made all the away games too.  Add to that most of the players
making noises about wanting me back and one certain superstar who might
quit in sympathy."

   "If you hadn't told me not to."

   "But Parker doesn't know that."

   Robbie nodded as the last pieces fell into place.  "So Parker figures
that now, if the team loses, everyone's going to look at him 'cause he lost
you?"

   "Bingo."

   "But if Tony got suspended for bad attitude while Parker was offering an
olive branch...  ?"

   "All of a sudden, it's my fault for not playing for the team."

   "You know, he may be smarter than I've given him credit for."

   I nodded.

   Robbie looked at her watch and stood up.  "I've got to get back for
seventh period." We started walking toward my house.  "You know, the
question has to be when you come back, how long do you last?"

   "That my dear, is a hell of a question."



   Chapter 9

   "What the hell are they doing?" I yelled, jumping to my feet.

   I felt two hands grab my arms and try to pull me down, Tami on one side
and Mikee on the other.

   "Quiet!" Mikee hissed.  "You're not supposed to be here.

   I stayed on my feet as the referees untangled the dog pile with Luke
Hastings on the bottom.  As he stood, Hastings threw the ball on the ground
in disgust.  I couldn't blame him.  The blocking had been horrible, and we
got sent for a five yard loss.

   I let Tami and Mikee pull me back down to the bleachers.

   Sam Woodard, the kid who'd come with Mikee to the game, gave me a scared
look.  I think he was nervous about being caught around me.  On Tami's
other side Kelly, Traci, and Peter were looking around to see if anyone was
checking us out.

   Suspended students aren't supposed to come to football games.  Or any
other school activities for that matter.  But nobody expected me to stay
away.

   Nobody who knew me, anyway.

   So I'd thrown on a sweatshirt and kept the hood up and stayed in the
middle of a crowd.  I even paid full admission instead of using my student
body card.  I was supposed to be inconspicuous.

   I wasn't sure if Parker could actually keep me out of a game in
Richland, but I didn't want to find out the hard way.

   We settled in the bleachers in the visitors section and watched as the
Bombers, then our team ran onto the field and tried to out-calisthenic each
other.  I was surprised to see Robbie over talking to a couple of the
Bombers before the coin toss, but Robbie's one of those people who gets to
know everybody.  She probably made friends when we played them last year
and the year before.  Hell, I knew a couple of them myself.

   We'd kicked off to Richland.  Then on the third play Larry Gordon
stripped the ball from their quarterback and fell on it.

   Our ball on the fifty.  Life was good.

   Then our first play on offense, Robbie at quarterback Mike was sitting
on the sidelines for some reason handed off to Luke.  Before he got three
steps, three Richland defenders hit him.  Two more joined the pile before
the referees whistled the play dead.

   I shook my head.  We were better than that.

   I watched as we set up again.  I'd bet it was going to be a pass, a nice
long one right into the end-zone.  Robbie called the count.  If everybody
would shut-up I could hear her.  She checked both sides, then took the hike
from Alex.  She faded back, cocked her arm, and Luke whipped behind her
taking the ball.  Robbie, instead of faking a pass or trying to pull the
defense away, stood up and watched as Luke started running, right into a
wall of Richland players.

   "They can't do this!" I yelled, jumping to my feet again.  Robbie and
Mikee tried to pull me down.

   "Sit down!" Mikee pleaded.

   "They can't throw away the game because of..."

   "This isn't about you," Tami said.  "NOW SIT DOWN." The last three words
weren't loud, or angry, but they felt like they were carved in granite. 
I'd never heard such authority from Tami.  I sat.

   The team lined up again.  Robbie took the hike, handed off to Luke
and... Well, it wasn't pretty.

   I looked at Tami.  "But..."

   She shook her head.  "It isn't about you," she repeated.  "This is
Robbie teaching a lesson about the consequences of lying."

   "But..."

   Tami stared straight into my eyes so hard that I couldn't have looked
away.  "You taught me a lesson about the consequences of lying.  Trust me,
it hurt worse than this."

   I shut my mouth and nodded.  I didn't want to think about the way I'd
treated Tami when she'd lied to me.  "But the team?  State?" I said softly.

   Tami shook her head and grinned.  "You know how competitive she is.  If
you don't think she can teach a lesson AND win the game, you don't know
your best friend very well."

   I couldn't help it.  I grinned back.  Then I settled back to watch the
fun.

   Fourth down with nineteen yards to go.  Robbie took the hike, faded
back. The blocking was awesome.  Nobody was near her.  She had all the time
in the world.  She threw a beautiful spiral right into the arms of Zach
Hissman on the thirty.  Zach had nothing but clear field in front of him.
He took a step and went down on one knee.  Parker threw down his clipboard
and started yelling.  I was glad I couldn't hear.  I have delicate ears.

   "I guess Robbie's not done teaching," I said with a smile.

   "For a guy, you catch on quick," Mikee answered with a giggle.

   Parker grabbed somebody by the collar, yelled in his face, then sent him
onto the field.  As he ran out I saw it was number fifty-four, Tracy
Arnolds.  He tapped Zach on the shoulder in the huddle and pointed toward
the sidelines.  Robbie stood up, said a couple words and pointed herself,
and Tracy ran back off.

   Parker did not look amused.  He was yelling something from the sideline,
but I couldn't make it out, and I don't think Robbie was listening.

   Three plays.  Two hand-offs and a short pass to Luke.  Three
bone-crushing tackles.  I glanced at the sidelines.  Parker was yelling
something at Mike, who was sitting on the bench.  Mike was shaking his
head.

   Fourth down.  Robbie took the hike, faded back to pass, but couldn't
find an open man.  She tucked her head and ran toward a hole in the line.
Man, could that girl move.  I watched her shake, rattle and roll her way
through the defenders and down the field.  As she got to the goal line I
wondered if she cross or down the ball for another lesson.  I'm not sure
what she planned, but a Richland defender hit her and they skidded across
the line.

   The extra point.  Robbie handed Luke the ball.  It seemed like the whole
Richland team hit him.

   "She tipped them somehow," I said, more to myself than anyone else.

   "What makes you say that?" Tami asked, looking slightly amused.

   "Every time Luke got the ball, the Bombers seemed keyed on him.  But the
two plays he didn't, they were looking for the ball just like a regular
game."

   Tami smiled.  "I'm impressed, there may be hope for you yet.  Assuming
that Robbie would tip the other team, and I'm not saying she is, if it was
you, how'd you do it?"

   I thought for a second.  "A number in the count."

   "What number?" Tami asked.

   Now it was my turn to smile.  "If our positions were reversed, I'd use
thirty-one, Robbie's number.  So I'm guessing she's using mine, thirteen."

   "Except your positions wouldn't be reversed.  Robbie's too smart to let
Parker set her up like that," Mikee said.

   I used to like Mikee.

   The offense ran off the field, except for Robbie, who stayed on, and the
defense set up for the kickoff.  From the way he was pacing and yelling, I
had a feeling that wasn't Parker's idea.

   The Bombers took the kickoff and ran it back to the forty.  And never
crossed the fifty.  Monster Girl saw to that, sacking their quarterback
twice.  If she'd made a deal with them, it was only about Luke.

   When the offense charged out on the field, Luke didn't look as
enthusiastic as the others.  They huddled up.  Luke shook his head
vigorously.  They lined up.  Robbie faked a handoff to Luke and handed the
ball to Greg Sanders.  Greg went around the right end and made six yards.

   Next play she rifled a short pass to Zach.  He made ten yards and a
first down.  The team looked like a well-oiled machine, and I didn't think
there was a team in the state that could stop them, except maybe the
Seahawks.  On a good day.

   Robbie faked a handoff and snapped the ball into Luke's stomach.  Luke
looked around and saw a wall of Bomber green and gold.  He started
scrambling, losing more and more ground before they brought him down on the
forty-eight.  Second down and twenty-four to go.

   Robbie faked a handoff, fell back, and fired a shot straight to Zach on
the twenty.  This time Zach took the ball and headed for the goal before a
last Richland defender managed to take him at the knees on the three.

   Another handoff to Luke and we were on the ten instead.  I wished I'd
brought a radio, 'cause I'd love to hear what the Richland announcer
thought about this game.  Luke stomped off the field and Brent Thomas came
in at halfback.  Robbie faked a handoff, then scrammed through a hole in
the line and scored.  A short pass for the extra point, and we were up by
thirteen.

   The rest of the game was an anticlimax.  Luke never came back in, but
Mike moved to quarterback in the second quarter.  Richland's only score was
on an interception he threw.  The final was fifty-five to six, and that was
only because Parker played the second and third string in the second half.

   Football players MUST ride the team bus home unless released to a
parent, so of course Robbie rode back with us.  I'd borrowed Mom's minivan
since I had too many for my 'stang.  Peter and Traci rode in the back seat,
Mikee and Sam took the middle, and somehow, Tami, Robbie and Kelly all
squeezed into the front.

   "Interesting game," I commented as I pulled out of the school parking
lot.

   "First game of the season," Robbie said.  "Still a few kinks to work
out."

   "Mike usually likes to start the game as QB."

   Robbie smiled faintly.  "He wasn't feeling well."

   "Really?"

   "Yep, but you know how dense guys can be.  I had to tell him twice."

   "Uh huh.  Did Luke learn anything?"

   Robbie grinned.  "Time will tell."

   We stopped at a Round Table Pizza about a mile from the school.

   We piled out.  Well, most of us.  It seems like Traci and Peter and
Mikee and Sam had better things to do.

   "This is on me," I announced.  I try not to be vindictive, but there's
no rule saying I can't enjoy a little justice.  Every now and then, the
universe gets one right.

   We'd ordered, gotten our drinks, and sent Robbie out to pry to lovebirds
apart when the team came in.  Parker was the third one through the door.

   "Sims!  What are you doing here?" he bellowed.

   'Man!' I thought.  'When the universe decides to dispense some justice,
it goes all the way.'

   "Getting a pizza," I said.  "Try the Italian Garlic Supreme.  It's worth
the drive."

   "You're suspended.  You can't be here."

   "I can't?"

   "Go home!" he ordered.

   I smiled.  "I don't think so."

   "What?"

   "I haven't eaten yet.  And like I said, I love their Italian Garlic
Supreme."

   "I said..."

   "Listen, lardbutt.  Nobody cares what you have to say.  In school, you
may be in charge, but we're not in school.  We're not even in our county.
So I'm going to sit here and have a pizza.  If you and your team want to
eat, go ahead." I turned my back on him.

   "Turn around," he ordered.  "I'm not through with you."

   I looked at the amazed staff behind the counter.  "Would one of you mind
calling the cops?" I asked pleasantly.  As I sat down, from the corner of
my eye I saw Coach Vickers whispering frantically in Parker's ear.  Damn! I
hate when cooler heads prevail.

   "Everybody out," Parker ordered.  "We're leaving."

   "But we haven't eaten yet, Coach," somebody complained.

   "Get your fucking ass on the god-damned bus now, or you'll be walking
home and be lucky to make the J.V.  tiddledywinks team!"

   The team left.

   When we left an hour later I was stuffed.  I really do love their garlic
pizza.  And to make the night perfect, in my pocket I had a letter from the
manger of the restaurant discussing Parker's behavior in detail, including
the profanity he used on the team.  It was signed by the manager, all the
staff, and about half the customers.

   I love the universe.



   Chapter 10

   Usually a three-day weekend is something kids live for, but this one
seemed to drag on forever.  At least the weather cooperated.  Saturday,
Tami and I, with Robbie and Mark Russell, went out to the National Forest
and hiked for about four hours.  That night Tami and I played Monopoly with
Traci and Peter, Mikee and Sam, and Kelly and a freshman named Kyle. 
Robbie and Mark were supposed to play too, but spent most of the evening in
my room with the door shut, something that Sam and Kyle noticed and kept
giving each other nudges about.  Peter, the girls, and I ignored them.

   Sunday, Tami and I took her mom and my family to the city park for a
barbeque.  We'd bought huge rib-eyes and all the fixins.  We'd decided that
we'd gotten pretty lucky in the parent department and needed to show them
some appreciation.  Traci only got to come because I couldn't find a
babysitter at the last minute.  Peter came because somebody taught Traci
how to pout with big puppy-dog eyes.

   Monday, another barbeque.  But this time Tami and I were the guests and
Robbie's dad was doing all the cooking.  Robbie had invited Mark, but he
had a family thing.

   Tami, Robbie, and I hung around the backyard and played volleyball. 
Well, actually, they played volleyball.  I tried not to drool, 'cause
Robbie's sister was home.  Samantha had just turned twenty-three and was
every guy's wet dream.  She'd just missed the cover of Sports Illustrated's
swimsuit edition a couple years ago and had turned down Playboy a couple of
times.  According to Robbie, Samantha made more money than her dad, and
that was just working six or seven months a year.  The rest of the time she
was a professional student.  Right now she was doing archaeology at
Arizona.

   I kept having this daydream where's she'd ask if everything Robbie said
about me was true, then led me up to her bedroom to find out.  And every
time I came out of the fog, Tami and Robbie were looking at me knowingly.
Damned telepathy.

   All in all, it would have been a hell of a weekend if I hadn't been
waiting.

   "Good morning, Mrs.  Price.  This is Tony Sims."

   "Morning, Tony.  How was your Labor Day?"

   "Just great.  Did the barbeque thing a couple of times.  How 'bout
yours." I figured it never hurt to shmooze a secretary.

   "Nice and quiet."

   "I was wondering if I could get an appointment to see the superintendent
this morning or this afternoon?"

   I could hear the hesitation in her voice when she answered.  "He's
booked solid this morning, but you could have a few minutes about two."

   "Two would be fine," I agreed.  "See you then.

   I hung up the phone and grinned.

   "Good afternoon, Mrs.  Price," I said as I walked into the office.

   "Afternoon Tony," the little old lady said.  "He's on a long distance
call, but it won't be too long." She hesitated, and I wondered if there was
something more she wanted to tell me, but then she went back to her
paperwork.

   The new Time was on a table and I picked it up.  The cover story was on
heart attacks, which didn't interest me, but I started flipping through the
magazine anyway.

   "You can go in now," Mrs.  Price said a couple minutes later.  I set the
magazine down.  It never fails: just when you finally find an article worth
reading.

   I nodded to her as I walked through the office to the superintendent's
door.  "How was your summer, Mr..."

   Mr.  Mulino wasn't sitting behind the desk.

   "You would be Tony Sims," he said, looking up from some paperwork on his
desk.  Where Mr.  Mulino looked like a big friendly Jackie Gleason, this
guy looked more like that Marine drill sergeant on Mail Call on the
Discovery Channel.

   "Yes, sir," I admitted, startled.  "I was hoping to see Mr.  Mulino."

   "Mr.  Mulino isn't with the district anymore."

   Nobody ever tells me anything.  "There's nothing wrong is there?" I
asked, thinking he was too young to retire.

   "Mr.  Mulino left to take over as superintendent of the Seattle school
district."

   I relaxed.

   "Sit!" It was a command rather than an offer.

   I'd still been standing in the doorway.  I stepped in and closed the
door.  I considered standing just because I didn't like being ordered
around like a dog, but decided it was probably just his style.

   "Uh, I didn't get your name." I said after we'd stared at each other for
several seconds.

   "I'm Mr.  Butz," he said sharply, without bothering to offer his hand. I
decided this wasn't the best time to make a joke about his name.

   "Yes, sir.  I was hoping to..."

   "It seems, Tony that you've had rather free access to this office," he
interrupted.

   "I don't know about..."

   "That is over.  I am not here to make sure you're having a good time."

   "I see," I said simply.

   "I hope you do.  I don't like having my time wasted."

   I stood.  "Thank you for seeing me," I said dryly.

   He nodded in dismissal.

   At the door, I stopped.  "There's a board meeting tonight.  Would you
add me to the agenda?"

   "No."

   "No?"

   "The board has more important things to do than hold your hand.  Since
you're suspended, you're obviously not representing an official school
organization."

   I counted to ten under my breathe.  First in English, then Spanish,
French and German.  "Thank you," I said and closed the door behind me. 
Outside I counted to ten again in Russian, Swahili, Chinese and Hebrew.

   I took a breath and started toward the door.

   "Thank you," I said as I passed Mrs.  Price's desk, thinking that she
might have warned me.

   "I miss him too," she said.

   As I climbed into my Mustang, I wondered how many more languages I could
learn one to ten in.

   "Could I say something?" I asked, standing.

   "Tony?" Mr.  Whitting said in surprise.

   "Sims!" Mr.  Parker said in annoyance.

   "Sit down!" Mr.  Butz said in command.

   I stayed on my feet.  Butz rose to his, came around the table and stood
on the edge on the stage, looking down at me.  "Mr.  Sims, as I told you
this afternoon, the board has important matters to discuss, and doesn't
have time for you.  You will leave now, or be suspended for an additional
two weeks."

   "Okay," I agreed, surprising Tami and Robbie sitting beside me, and my
parents and sister in the next row.

   "By the way, this meeting is now in violation of the state open meeting
law and I'll file the formal protest with the Attorney General in the
morning." I turned my back and started to edge past Robbie to leave.

   "That law, young man is not about students disrupting important
meetings."

   "THAT LAW, Mr.  Superintendent, says 'member of the public'.  It does
not contain any reference to age or school standing.  And I did not disrupt
anything.  I asked if I could address the board, which is customary in this
district.  The CHAIRMAN can choose to recognize me or not.  But since you
have ordered me out, in violation of state law, you can explain it to the
Attorney General and the State Board of Education.  I believe the fine is a
hundred dollars."

   "I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE..."

   "Mr.  Butz.' Mr.  Whitting wasn't loud, but there was enough authority
in his voice to shut Butz up.  He turned and faced the board.

   "All of us know Tony," he indicated his fellow board members. 
"Personally, I've known him since he pulled a couple of my neighbors out of
a fire."

   I thought I detected a change of skin color on the back of Butz's neck.

   "I know him well enough to know that he wouldn't waste our time.  And he
is correct that state law gives him the RIGHT to be here, because
sixteen-year-olds are still members of this community."

   Butz stood silently in front of the board.

   "Would you mind sitting down, so that we can hear what he has to say?"
It was phrased as a request, but I knew an order when I heard one. 
Apparently, so did Butz."

   "Sims is suspended," Parker said from his seat.  "He's not supposed to
be here, or any other school activity."

   "As far as I'm concerned, this is one activity that Tony is always
welcome at," Mrs.  Shell said.  The other board members nodded.

   "But..."

   "And I was aware that Tony was suspended and intended to discuss the
matter in executive session," Mrs.  Day added.  Parker looked like he'd
just swallowed something nasty.

   Mr.  Whitting rapped the table with his gavel.  "Tony, bearing in mind
that the board does have a heavy schedule this evening, was there something
you wanted to say?"

   "I just wanted to deliver this and answer any questions the board might
have about it." I pulled a letter out of my pocket and handed it to Robbie,
then pointed at Mr.  Whitting.

   Trying to hide her grin, she took it to him.

   "I tried to give it to Mr.  Butz today, but he told me he was to busy to
talk to students.  I asked to be added to the agenda, but he said you were
too busy for students too."

   "Apparently, Mr.  Butz isn't aware that in this district we consider
students to be human, too," Mrs.  Day said dryly.  "At least until proven
otherwise." The laughter lightened the tension in the room.

   Mr.  Whitting was scowling as he handed the letter to Mr.  Sacramone on
his right.

   "Would you say this is accurate?" Mr.  Whitting asked me after all the
board members had read the letter and passed it on to Butz and Parker.

   "Yes, sir."

   "Robbie?" he said.  She stood.  "You're on the football team.  Were you
at the pizza parlor?" She nodded.  "Have you read this?" She nodded again.
"Would you agree?"

   "Yes, sir," she said almost meekly.

   "She's a friend of his," Parker accused, looking up from the letter, his
face drained of color.

   "Are there any other football players here?" Mr.  Whitting asked,
looking around.

   "My son's on the team," someone said from the back.  "He's shooting
baskets in the gym."

   "Would you get him?"

   We waited while the parent left.  I hadn't recognized the voice and
didn't turn around to look.  A minute later we heard them come back.

   "Come up here please."

   A boy walked up the aisle.  As he passed I saw it was Steve Logan and
grinned.  Steve was the only sophomore on this year's team, which made him
our youngest player, and it was obvious he wasn't thrilled about the
attention.

   "Were you at the football game Friday?' Steve nodded.  "Did you go to
the pizza parlor afterward?" Steve nodded again.  "Would you like to tell
us what happened?"

   "I, uh, well, uh, I mean..."

   "I think it might be easier if you read this," Mrs.  Moore said, leaning
forward with the letter she'd gotten back from Parker.

   Steve stepped up on the stage, took the letter, and read it.

   "Is that what happened?"

   "Yeah," he agreed a minute later.  "Mr.  Parker said he was going to buy
us all pizza since we won our first game.  Then we got back on the bus and
came home without eating anything," he added.

   "Thank you," Mr.  Whitting said and Steve all but ran out of the room.
"Charley, we'll discuss this in executive session unless you have some
questions."

   "He wasn't supposed to be there," Parker accused, standing and pointing
at me.

   "At the pizza place?" Mrs.  Day asked.

   "At the game."

   "You saw him at the football game?"

   "No, I was busy.  But he was there."

   "Tony, were you at the game?" Mr.  Whitting asked.  I had the feeling
that he knew the answer.

   "I'm not sure this board has the authority to ask me that," I started.

   "You see what he's like," Parker accused.

   "But, for the record, yes, I was at the game." I finished.

   "There.  He admitted it." Parker said in triumph.

   "You were aware that suspended students are not to attend school
activities?" Mr.  Sacramone asked.

   "Yes sir.  But do you really think the school has the right or the
authority to bar me from other schools' activities?"

   "Excuse me?"

   "I drove to Richland in my own vehicle and went to a game at their
field. I didn't even use my student body card to get a discount, since I
was suspended from the student body.  I paid full price.  Does being
suspended in this school mean I can't attend any school's games?"

   "That is an interesting question," Mr.  Whitting admitted, "but we'll
save it for another time.  Moving on, item three on the agenda, replacing
the..."

   "Tony, a moment please," Mom said as we walked out an hour later.  The
board had gone into their executive session.

   The others walked on to the van while Mom and I found a spot off to the
side of the school entrance.

   "I just wanted to say I was proud of you today."

   I swallowed hard, a lump in my throat.

   "You got their attention, then calmly had your say.  You didn't act like
a child, and they, well, most them, didn't treat you like a child."

   I had a feeling that Mom wouldn't be joining the Butz fan club.

   "Thanks," I said embarrassed.

   "And you didn't lie about going to the game."

   I grinned.  "Mr.  Whitting's the ultimate football fan.  I don't think
he's missed a game in ten years.  It was better than even money he saw me
there."

   "Is there a game this Friday?"

   I nodded.

   "Where?"

   "Here," I admitted.

   "And your plans...  ?"

   "I thought I'd go to Wenatchee in the afternoon and hang with Peter
King."

   "Peter King?  Isn't he the boy you had the fight with?"

   "I wouldn't call him a boy.  He graduated last year."

   Mom looked suspicious.  "And what were you and Peter going to do?"

   "Well, he's been helping with the football team, so we'll probably go to
the game."

   "And just where is Wenatchee playing?"

   "Uh, here."

   Mom walked, away shaking her head.

   It took a long time for me to realize that the song that kept playing
wasn't part of my dream.  It was my ring tone.

   I opened one eye and reached for my cell phone, wondering who would be
calling.  Almost everybody I knew would be in school.

   "Hello," I gasped after I almost fell out of bed getting my hand on the
phone.

   "Tony?" I didn't recognize the voice.

   "This is Tony," I admitted, wondering why I hadn't ignored the phone.

   "This is Bob Reed." I took almost a minute to make the connection.  I'd
been up till three after the school board meeting finishing A Stainless
Steel Rat Gets Drafted.

   "Mr.  Reed," I acknowledged.  Bob Reed was the principal of the middle
school.  I wondered if he was calling to tell me my services as a
gymnastics coach wouldn't be needed this year.

   "You're late."

   "Late?" I was really confused.  Gymnastics season didn't for a couple of
months.

   "Late," he repeated.  "You've already missed first period."

   "But..."

   "My first day as principal of the high school, and you decide to take
the day off."

   "You're principal?"

   "Jason Whitting called me last night."

   "You're principal," I repeated, hoping the world would stop spinning.

   I heard him laugh.  "You've missed first period, but I expect you here
in time for second."

   "Uh, yes, sir."

   He laughed again and hung up.

   I jumped up and started getting dressed.  I'd never been so happy to go
to school.  Late slip and all.