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 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 16

   "...  Tate with the ball.  She's scrambling.  She see's an opening
and... it looks...  it looks like a perfect pass right into the hands of
Zach Hissman.  A good catch, and Zach brought down on the thirty-four. 
That's another first down for the Rebels."

   I leaned back and took a deep breath, then looked at Tami beside me.  "I
didn't realize that talking was such hard work."

   Tami gave me a quick grin and went back to her laptop.

   I looked back down on the field.  "The Rebels out of their huddle.  Mike
Reed in the worry seat again.  He takes the snap.  Luke Hastings wide open,
and a beautiful bomb right into his arms.  Hastings on the ten.  He shakes
a defender, and another, he spins, and he's across!  Touchdown, Rebels!" I
shouted.  "Hastings really showing why he was a star in Texas and now a
star in Washington."

   Tami leaned back and stretched.  "Did it hurt?"

   I grinned.  "Just a little as the words were coming out of my throat."

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

   I grinned again.  Life was good.

   Mr.  Reed had decided that I couldn't go cold turkey without football,
and if I wasn't going to play, I should talk.  He practically ordered me
into the announcer's booth.  We'd had a dozen announcers the last couple
years, none of them very good.  The problem was, for the most part, the
world is divided into jocks and geeks.  The geeks can talk good, but don't
understand sports, especially football.  They may know rules, but they
don't feel the game.  The jocks know the game, but can't necessarily talk
it up on the spur of a moment into a microphone.

   Then there's me.

   There were perks.  Second best was a nice heated announcer's booth with
a great view of the field.  I drafted Tami to help me track stats on her
computer.  Traci, Kelly, and Peter also shared our warm perch.  Mikee would
have, but she got drafted to the varsity cheerleaders when Patricia Kale
decided to move without telling anyone ahead of time.

   But the best perk was...  Parker hated the idea.

   The teams lined up for the kickoff, and I started talking again.  After
a while, I found I could take the input from my eyes and send it straight
to my mouth without having to think about it.  Of course, Parker would tell
you that I usually skip thinking about what I'm saying.

   "And now some routines by your Rebel cheerleaders and the drill team," I
said and shut down the microphone.  The teams had already jogged off the
field for the half.

   "Ladies, snackage?" I said as I stood and stretched.  Snackage?  Maybe I
was watching too much Kim Possible.  No, she was red-headed, a cheerleader,
and completely flexible.  No such thing as too much.

   "What about me," Peter asked.

   "Kid, you're cute, but you ain't that cute."

   I came back a couple minutes later with the order.  Another perk, I got
to cut to the front of the snack bar line.  Two popcorns, a nacho, a
pretzel, three hot dogs and five Cokes.

   I felt pretty good about my debut.  To paraphrase our big song from the
road trip, 'I may have stumbled, but I ain't never fell', or something like
that.  I kept the commentary moving along.  I identified all of the players
from our team and most of them from Wenatchee.  Of course, it had been a
pretty easy game to announce.  We dominated from the opening kick-off,
finishing the half twenty-one to six.

   The drill team finished, and the cheerleaders rushed out for one final
routine as the teams headed back to the field.  I took a deep breath,
turned on the microphone and started recapping the first half.

   "Another bad decision by Coach Parker," I said as the third quarter
wound down.  "Deviating from the play book again, and in the confusion, a
fumbled handoff by Reed to Tate, with Wenatchee recovering.  What can he be
thinking?"

   "Enjoying yourself?" Tami asked as I flipped off the mike.

   "Not really.  He could give away this game." I'd made a comment at the
end of the half about Parker using Coach Branson's playbook to full
advantage.  He apparently didn't like people to be reminded that this was
still mostly Branson's team.  He'd come out of halftime with several new
plays which just weren't working.  He'd managed to screw up the defense
enough that Wenatchee had put two touchdowns and an extra point on the
board, bringing the score to twenty-one twenty with less than thirty
seconds in the quarter.

   "Coach Parker's getting smart, bringing Tate in as Monsterback to stop
the Wenatchee defense.  The teams are taking the line, the snap,
quarterback Ritter with the ball, and...  ow, that had to hurt.  Monster
Girl with her third sack of the game."

   I grinned at Tami, and she grinned back.

   "Wait, there's a time-out on the field, called by the Rebels." I shut
the mike off.  "What the hell?  Why'd he call a time-out now?"

   Tami shrugged.

   "And Monster Girl coming out of the game, replaced by Jim Elliott.  The
teams are lining up, twelve seconds in the third quarter."

   The door to the booth opened, and Steve Logan rushed in and handed me a
note, shrugged, and rushed out again.  I didn't have time to look at it.

   "There's the snap.  Ritter with the ball, looking for an open man,
and... and, Ritter takes off.  He finds a hole in the line, great spin to
get loose of Russell, and he's charging toward the goal.  He's at the
twenty.  Brian James angling in from the side.  He's at the fifteen. 
There's the gun.  James almost on top of him.  He's at the...  James for
the tackle and Ritter with a great reverse, he's at the ten.  The five. 
Touchdown Wenatchee."

   "End of the third quarter, Wenatchee twenty-seven, Rebels twenty-one," I
finished a minute later after the extra point.  I shut the microphone off
and mumbled several inappropriate words.

   "What'd the note say?" Tami asked, reminding me about the paper in my
hand.

   I opened it up and read it, then laughed.  Tami looked at me
questioningly, but I shrugged.  It was just too good.  "Ladies and
gentlemen, I have just been instructed by Charlie Parker, the school's vice
principal, that these announcements may not include any criticism of
coaching mistakes by Head Coach Charlie Parker.  I may also not mention any
connection this team has had with Coach Branson, and Monster Girl may not
be called that, but must be referred to as Robbie Tate or number
thirty-one. Please fill in your own commentary for these subjects.  Looks
like the teams are ready..."

   The door to the booth opened again, and Mr.  Singara stormed in as I
swung around to look at him.  He was the duty supervisor for the game. 
"Turn it off!"

   "Excuse me?" I said, keeping the circuit open.  "What do you mean, turn
it off?"

   "Shut down.  You're through."

   I turned back to the microphone.  "I've been ordered to shut down now.
So good night and good football." I clicked off the microphone and swung
back to Mr.  Singara.  "Anything else?"

   "What are they doing up here?" he challenged, pointing at Traci and
Kelly.  "They're not even in high school."

   "Mr.  Reed said I could have guests.  He didn't say they had to be in
high school.  Want to call him?"

   Singara glared for a minute, the turned and left.  He hadn't been a fan
since he was forced to apologize in front of the whole school after Allie's
cheating incident.

   Tami shut off her laptop and leaned back.  "Looks like we get to relax
for the last quarter."

   "Are you in trouble?" Traci asked.

   "With Charlie Parker?  Nah, he and I are like that," I said, holding up
two fingers squeezed together.

   Nobody looked like they believed me.

   "I'm not sure I see the problem," Dad said.  I sat quietly.  Mom had
made it clear that if I opened my mouth without Dad's invitation that life
as I knew it would be over.  "You gave Tony a list of items he couldn't
announce.  Did he announce any of them."

   "No, but he announced the list," Parker said.  "He made it sound like
blatant censorship."

   "I agree.  That's exactly what it sounded like to me," Dad agreed
amiably.  "You gave him a list of things not to talk about.  What other
definition of censorship is there?"

   Parker looked exasperated.  Mr.  Reed looked amused.  Butz looked
annoyed.  "Censorship is a buzz word," he said.  "But this is a school. 
There are reasons that freedom of speech or freedom of the press aren't
absolute."

   "I agree completely," Dad said with a smile, surprising everyone in the
room, including me.  "Even in a free society, there are good and valid
reasons to censor some facts, for instance, the names of police officers
working undercover."

   Butz and Parker nodded.  Mr.  Reed just watched.

   "Exactly what was your reason Mr.  Parker?"

   "Excuse me?"

   "I'm sure you had a good and valid reason to censor the announcements.
What were they?"

   "I...  uh, he...  he made it sound like Coach Branson was still coaching
the team."

   I caught Dad's eye, and he nodded.  "If I remember correctly, I
mentioned Coach Branson exactly twice.  Once at the end of the half when I
said you were using his playbook to full advantage.  And once in the fourth
quarter when I announced that I wasn't allowed to mention his name."

   "You made it sound like he was responsible for the team winning," Parker
complained.

   "He was.  It was his playbook.  And he built the team."

   Parker started to object, but I held my hand up.  "No coach can really
take credit, or blame for that matter, until he's had a team for some
time."

   "Then you started criticizing my coaching," Parker pointed out.

   I looked at Dad again, he nodded, though more reluctantly this time. 
"You made some stupid mistakes."

   "I won't have you talking about school employees like that!" Butz
blustered.

   I stood.  "Let's go Dad.  They don't want to talk."

   "Tony, just a minute," Mr.  Reed interrupted, then looked at Butz and
Parker.  "Tony didn't call Charley stupid, he said he made a stupid
mistake. That's different.  I've made some of those myself.  Personally,
I'd be interested in hearing what he has to say."

   Parker glared, and Butz kind of rumbled but nodded.  I hoped Dad's
permission to speak was still in force.  "Like I said, you made some stupid
mistakes.  First, you took what I intended as a compliment and..."

   "A compliment?" Parker seemed flabbergasted.

   "Yes, a compliment.  It was Coach Branson's playbook.  But YOU were
using it.  The plays you sent in worked.  And the rest of the time you let
Mike or Robbie have their heads.  It worked.  We weren't just winning, we
were creaming them.  But then you took what I said and tried..." I caught a
slight shake of Mr.  Reed's head and moderated myself.  "...  to make the
team more yours.  In the locker room you tried to give them several new
plays, plays they hadn't practiced.  And you switched around the defense so
much that they were getting in each other's way instead of Wenatchee's.  We
went from a fifteen point lead to a six point deficit."

   "When athletes or coaches make stupid mistakes, announcers call them on
it.  Last year, in baseball, in the first game of state, I tried to steal
home and got put out.  The announcer said it was a stupid hot-dog play, and
he was right.  It may have cost us the game.  When it was all over, he said
it probably cost us the game.  He was being nice by including the word
probably.

   "You have to decide if you want an announcer who's going to call the
game or if you want someone who's going to say things like 'Tate, number
thirty-one, now in for number twenty-four, Mike Reed." I took a breath and
patted the paper in my shirt pocket.  "Doesn't matter to me.  I resign."
Everyone on the other side of the table looked shocked.  Dad knew it was
coming.

   "I guess that settles it," Butz said, standing.

   "What about his punishment?" Parker asked.

   "For what Charlie?" Reed asked.

   There was some low conversation, and I think Parker started to pout, but
Mr.  Reed nodded we were done.  He caught up to us in the hallway.  "Tony,
are you sure?  We could have worked this out."

   I smiled.  "I needed to resign anyway."

   I pulled the paper out of my shirt pocket and handed it to him.  He
unfolded it and read the top page.  "Fuck!"

   "Mr.  Reed, your language," I laughed.



   Chapter 17

   "You look way too happy for a Monday morning."

   I smiled at Robbie.

   "I take it you're smiling cause you're still in school?" Tami asked.

   "Nah, I'd be happier if I got a two week vacation, but I'm stuck here."

   "Give it up," Robbie said with a laugh.  "Everybody knows you like
school."

   I tried to look shocked.  "Who's been spreading those rumors?  I'll
sue."

   "Tony, I hate to break it to you, but they all know you're a nice guy
too."

   The line moved, and we got closer to lunch.  Hamburgers.  There was a
chance it might be edible.  Not a big chance.

   "So how much trouble are you in?" Robbie asked.

   "None.  I resigned."

   "So much for a brilliant broadcasting career."

   I put my arm around the redhead and gave her a squeeze.  "You know what
I love about you?  Your compassion."

   "I calls 'em as I sees 'em"

   I was about to say some sarcastic when I was interrupted.  "You must be
Robbie Tate." We all looked.  The speaker was a guy my age that I didn't
know.

   "I'm Robbie," she admitted.

   "I'm Cody.  I'm new here." Cody ran his fingers through his hair and
kind of flipped his head.  To me, it seemed faked, but Robbie seemed to be
checking him out.  "I, uh, heard a lot about you, and just wanted to say
that I think what you did was awesome."

   Robbie smiled modestly.  "Well, there's a lot of other guys on the team
too."

   "Team?" He looked surprised.  "Oh, the football game.  That was cool
too. The way you guys pulled it out in the end.  But I meant the family you
helped.  Taking in five people after a fire, it was...  it was way cool. 
I, um, I'll get out of your way now." He turned and disappeared toward the
end of the lunch line.

   "He was cute," Robbie said.

   "Very," Tami agreed.

   I don't know why, but I felt like I was reviewing a play and the shy
awkward bit was way overdone.

   "Heard the latest?" Robbie asked as we met up and headed for debate.  It
was a rainy Wednesday and I just kind of grunted at her.

   "About Cody or something else?" Tami asked.

   "Cody?" I asked, my ears picking up.

   "Robbie's been checking him out."

   "He's a classmate," Robbie said with a hint of red.  "I'm interested."

   "She's interested all right," Tami said with a leer that would have done
any construction worker proud.

   "So what's the scoop," I asked, not really interested.

   "He's a senior.  Just moved here from Phoenix.  Average student.  Runs
track," Tami reported, I assumed condensing reports she'd gotten from
Robbie.

   "Is that the latest?" I asked Robbie.

   "NO!" she said forcefully

   I grinned at her as we took our seats in the classroom.

   "The sheriff was here to talk to Parker."

   "Did they take him away in handcuffs?  If they did, I'll go outside and
do my impression of Fred Astaire and Singing in the Rain."

   "Sorry.  No such luck.  Somebody trashed Clay Willingham's car."

   "And Parker's a suspect?" Tami asked.

   "Nope.  Clay's the quarterback at North Lincoln.  The sheriff probably
thinks that somebody on the team did it," I answered and Robbie nodded.

   "Any idea who " the bell rang and ended the discussion.

   "Eight more hours and schools over for the week," I said as I turned
into the school parking lot.

   "You like school," Tami reminded me.  She was sharing the front seat
with Robbie.

   "Yeah," I admitted.  "But the weekend's cool too."

   "And the game," Mikee added from the back seat she shared with Bobbi
Bradley.  We'd dropped Traci and Kelly at Robbie's house to take the bus
with the other girls.

   "Spoken like a cheerleader," I said.  I paused for a second then added,
"Put that tongue back in your mouth." From Bobbi's laughter, I guessed I'd
nailed it.

   "Give her a break," Tami admonished.  "You've been waiting all week for
the game too."

   I parked next to the gym, and we got out.  "Make sure you walk three
steps behind us," Mikee said as she climbed out of the back.

   "Why?" Bobbi asked as she followed.

   "Well, you're a freshman after all."

   "You can walk with me," Robbie said, holding out her hand.  "She's only
a sophomore, she can follow behind."

   "Hey, I was only kidding."

   I grinned to myself as I held the door open for the girls.  It was nice
to have things back to normal for a change.

   A sheriff's car pulled into the parking lot.  Deputy Boyd was driving.

   "Anything you want to tell us before he pulls out the handcuffs?" Robbie
asked with a smile.

   "Nothing recently, and most of the old stuff's pretty well buried. 
Maybe he's after you this time."

   Robbie smiled.  "Like I ever get caught."

   I nodded.

   "Tony, I might have known you'd be in the middle of this," Dan Boyd said
as he walked up.

   "Middle of what?  We just got here."

   He nodded.  "Okay, come with me."

   I wondered if I had time to have Robbie kick me for thinking things were
normal.

   There was a small crowd in the main hall, but he pushed his way though.
I followed Deputy Boyd, and the girls followed me.  As we got to the front,
I discovered that the center was the trophy case.  And maybe 'was' is the
perfect word, because it was trashed.  All the glass had been broken out,
plaques broken in half, and trophies busted.  Our biggest trophy, for
second in state last year, was broken into a dozen pieces on the floor, and
I was pretty sure I knew what the yellow liquid splashed all around was.

   "One of the janitors, Frank, discovered it when he opened the school
about twenty minutes ago," the deputy explained.  "Any ideas?"

   "One." I didn't elaborate.

   "Sims, get out of there.  Let the deputy do his work," Parker commanded,
charging up.

   "Tony's helping me right now," Dan said softly.  "Could you stand back?
This is a crime scene."

   Parker turned a nice shade of red, spun on his heel, and stalked off.

   Dan smiled and asked me to get him a couple of chairs out of one of the
classrooms.  When I brought them back, he took the yellow tape he'd been
holding and fastened it to the wall near the trophy case, then made a large
square using the two chairs and fastened the end on the other side of the
case.  When he'd finished he'd left about a three foot passage in the hall.
Next he sent Tami to his patrol car for his camera.

   "Shouldn't you be getting pictures for the paper?" Robbie suggested.

   "It's too late for today's paper, but that's a good idea." I sent Mikee
down to the journalism room to get my camera, explaining I wanted mine and
not one of the school's.  "Parker may not let us run it, even next week. 
He kept the trouble last year out." Robbie nodded.

   "Speaking of last year," Dan said, kneeling to get a closer look at
something.  "Should I be looking in the school, or outside?"

   "Outside, I think," I said.

   "The ones last year, well, two graduated, barely.  And the other two
were, uh, reasoned with.  Even if they hadn't been, I don't think they
would have done this," Robbie added.

   I was glad he didn't ask us any names, considering that last year's
vandalism was still, technically, an open case.

   Mikee brought my camera, and I started talking pictures, some of just
the vandalism and some of Deputy Boyd inspecting damage.  Tami brought his
camera, and he started doing the same, even taking one picture of me taking
a picture.

   "Any ideas?" he asked again.

   I stood mute, as they say in the police procedurals.  So did Robbie,
though I was sure she'd come to the same conclusions I had.

   Mr.  Walker looked up from the news copy he was holding.  "Good work."

   "Thanks," I said, trying to sound modest.  "Tami and I did it together.
She did most of it."

   "The pictures aren't bad either."

   I nodded.

   He hesitated.  "I, uh, have to clear this with Mr.  Parker before we can
put it in next week's paper."

   I grinned.  "I know.  Just like I know he'll squash it.  Could you do it
this morning?"

   Mr.  Walker looked surprised.  "Quash," he corrected automatically.  "On
a deadline?"

   "Sort of."

   "I don't want to know, do I?"

   "Plausible deniability," I agreed.

   "Sims, what is this?" Parker slammed a newspaper down on my desk.

   "I think we had this conversation before.  That's a newspaper.  A form
of mass communication.  Some people read it to get information.  If the
words are too big for you, maybe somebody can help."

   The class laughed until Parker spun and glared around the room.  Why
does he always have to interrupt debate?

   He turned back.  His face ran the gamut of colors, and for a second I
thought he was going to go for my throat.  "Sims, I've just about had it
with your attitude.  I mean this article."

   "Are you about done?" Mrs.  Conners asked.  "I am trying to teach a
class here."

   Parker ignored her.  "Well, Sims?"

   "Just a story that Tami and I wrote."

   "I thought I made it clear this wasn't running."

   "You made it clear that the school newspaper is a joke, and we couldn't
run this there." I picked up the newspaper and held it open.  "This isn't
the school paper.  This is a real paper, and they might take exception if
you think you can censor them."

   "I can censor you."

   "Interesting idea.  Mrs.  Conners, can we debate that?  Can the school
stop students from publishing in non-school forums?"

   "You made it sound like our students are to blame," Parker accused.

   "Somebody did their sign and Willingham's car first."

   "It wasn't..."

   "MR.  PARKER!" Mrs.  Conners interrupted.  "This isn't the time or the
place.  If you really think you can punish Tony for publishing that, then
suspend him and go.  The rest of us have a class."

   Parker looked from me to Mrs.  Conners, then back to me.

   "This isn't over," he snapped and stormed out.

   "Interesting day." Robbie observed.

   "It ain't over yet." I sat with Tami in my lap while Robbie drove my
baby.  Mikee and Bobbi were in the back again.

   "Have you ever considered not baiting Parker?"

   I sighed.  "Tami and I talked about it while we wrote the article.  We
felt that we owed the school paper the right of first refusal, even though
we were pretty sure Parker would kill it.  After he did I faxed it to the
paper in town, and they bought it.  Parker was just a bonus."

   "How much?" Mikee asked from behind me.

   "Thirty-five for the story and twenty-five for the pictures."

   "You're rich," Bobbi said.  Something about the way she said it made me
feel that it wasn't just a kid wishing she had sixty bucks.  I had a
feeling that in the Bradley family, sixty bucks was a lot of money.

   Robbie saved me from having to comment.  "Daddy's home," she announced
as she pulled up in front of her house.

   "You didn't think he'd miss your game, did you?"

   "Not if the planes were still flying."

   Robbie parked and was out of the car almost before the wheels stopped
turning.

   "You'd think she hadn't seen him in a year instead of a week," Tami
said.

   "All things are relative.  If I hadn't seen you in a week, it would seem
like a year."

   "You say the sweetest things." Tami leaned down and kissed me.

   "Would you two get a room," Mikee said from the back seat.  "Some of us
would like to get out."

   "Why?  You'll just have to get in again when Traci and Kelly get here."
The younger girls were riding the bus.  Tami giggled, opened the door, and
slid off my lap.  I got out and moved the seat for the other girls.

   "Can I ask something?" Bobbi said shyly.

   "You can ask anything," I said grandly.  "Of course, I reserve the right
to answer or ignore you or throw a tantrum or prevaricate or downright
lie."

   "I thought prevaricating and lying were the same thing," Mikee said,
just as the school bus pulled up in front.

   "Prevaricating is more like evading the truth.  Like if Tami asked what
I thought of her new dress and I said 'check out the hooters on that
babe'," pointing at Billie as she got off the bus.  "I didn't lie, but I
didn't answer truthfully, either.  I evaded the truth."

   "I thought that was equivocate," Mikee said.

   I was impressed that she knew the word.  "Equivocating is more like
using words that can mean different things.  Have you heard the song, If I
Said You Had a Beautiful Body, Would You Hold It Against Me?"

   Mikee and Bobbi both nodded.  The girls who had just gotten off the bus
just looked confused.

   "That's an equivocation.  Does he mean would you get mad about his
words, or does he mean would you press your body up against his?"

   "Oh." Mikee thought for a second, then added, "I thought school ended
fifteen minutes ago."

   Tami laughed and ruffled her hair, then looked at Bobbi.  "You had a
question before the professor started his lecture."

   "I, uh, just wondered about Robbie's mom."

   "She lives in Tennessee.  Robbie hasn't seen her in..." She looked at
me. "Three years?"

   I nodded.  "And she's just as happy that way.  If you ask her, she won't
get mad, if that's what you're afraid of.  She may not answer, but she
won't get mad."

   Bobbi nodded, then she and her sisters went in the house while Mikee,
Traci, and Kelly climbed into the back of my Mustang and we drove home.

   "Welcome to another great night of Washington football.  It's a
beautiful night, completely clear and a balmy forty-eight degrees on the
field, though it's a toasty seventy here in the booth.  This is Tony Sims
from KAHJ and this is the North Lincoln Grizzlies versus your own..."

   I was on the air.  Kurt Mahoney, the manager of the local station, had
been at the football game last week and heard me announce.  Since his
regular sports guy couldn't get to this game, Kurt had offered me a
one-night contract to broadcast for KAHJ, with the possibility of more to
come.  Since he didn't know where I lived, he'd brought the contract to
school, first thing Monday morning.  I couldn't believe I was making almost
a hundred bucks to talk about football.  Parker was going to love this.

   "Both teams are two and o, though the Rebels almost dropped a game last
week after some crucial coaching mistakes." I sure hoped that someone was
taping this for Coach Parker.  It just won't have the same impact if he
hears it second hand.  "According to quarterback Clay Willingham, the
Grizzlies have their best team in twenty years.  The Rebels, according to
alternate quarterback Robbie Tate, have their best team ever, and nobody
argues with Monster Girl.  Two hot and undefeated teams.  This is looking
like the storm of the century, and somebody's perfect season ends tonight."

   "You are so full of it," Tami said as I turned off the microphone during
a commercial.

   "And getting paid for it," I reminded her.  The booth was crowded.  In
addition to me and Tami, we had Traci, Kelly, and the two oldest Bradley
girls.  Also the North Lincoln announcer, who said he'd been calling games
for thirty years.

   The commercial ended.  "And now, to introduce the teams, Tamarone
Sharp."

   Tami took a deep breath and pulled the microphone in front of her.  I
stood, then rushed down to the field, wondering how my new boss was going
to feel about the substitution.

   Nobody seemed to notice me as I stepped onto the field and up behind our
team on the sidelines.  The captains were on the fifty-yard-line with the
referees.  I watched the coin flip, then Tom Metzger, the head ref, looked
over and saw me and waved me onto the field.  I took a deep breath and
jogged out.  Robbie followed.

   "Sims?" I heard Parker's voice behind me.

   "Gentlemen, listen up," Metzger ordered as I joined the four captains
and three officials.

   "We've had some problems this last week," I said.  "Things that have
never happened before, and aren't going to happen again."

   "Who are you?" the second Grizzly captain demanded.

   I ignored him.  "This isn't some hooligan state like," I fixed my stare
on Luke Hastings, and he looked away, "California.  This is Washington.  We
play hard, but we play fair.  Somebody trashed our trophy case.  Their
problem is they did it on candid camera." I held up a web cam and a zip
disk.  "I had a feeling that there might be problems and stashed a couple
of these in strategic locations."

   The second Grizzly captain lost all his color.

   "I'll take that," Parker said from behind me.

   "Sorry, private property," I said without turning around.  "Get a
subpoena."

   "Coach, go sit down," ordered Metzger.

   "I will not!"

   "Coach, you can sit on the bench, or you can sit in the locker room. 
Your choice."

   I almost felt sorry for Parker as he slunk away.  He was not having a
very good day.

   Almost.

   "We have two options, and only two.  Plan A." I pointed at Deputy Boyd
and two other deputies standing at the bottom of the grandstand doing
routine security.  "I give Dan Boyd the file, and he arrests several
Grizzlies.  Then I tell him who trashed Clay's car and the Grizzly sign,
and he takes some Rebels.  Then we play."

   "What's Plan B." I don't think Luke and Captain Number Two noticed they
spoke at the same time.

   "Plan B is the silliness stops.  Clay, I know you, and I know you didn't
have anything to do with any of this.  You collect from the guilty parties
two hundred and thirty bucks, which is what they figure it will cost to fix
our trophies and the materials for a new trophy case.  What was the damage
on your car?"

   "My deductible is two-fifty."

   "Then Mike here," I clapped him on the back, "collects two-fifty from
the guilty Rebels.  Then the whole Rebel team comes down here tomorrow and
cleans your grand stand from top to bottom.  Washes the seats, the whole
nine yards.  As a gesture of good will."

   "I don't know if they..." Mike stuttered.

   "They'll be here," Robbie said, speaking for the first time.

   "Then Sunday, the Grizzlies return the favor," I finished.

   "They'll be there," Clay promised, glaring at his co-captain.

   "These are two good teams.  I think the Rebels are going to win, but I
wouldn't bet against the Grizzlies.  But from now on, we keep it on the
field."

   Everyone nodded and headed for their sidelines except Clay.  "Sorry you
won't be out here with us.  I owe you a few bruises."

   "One of those things, "I shrugged.  "I'll be up there," I pointed at the
booth.  "Announcing it every time you get sacked."

   "I've only been sacked once in two years," he boasted.

   "That was me," I reminded him.  "She's better," I said as I walked away.
Robbie had been sick for the game against North Lincoln last year.

   "...  and Coach Parker's Rebels not having a good night.  His decision
to play Monster Girl on defense all night has stopped the Grizzlies'
scoring machine, but the plays he's sent in to his offense just aren't
making the grade.  So with just over a minute to play in the fourth
quarter, it's still zero to zero.

   "The teams are lining up again.  Second down and seven, Grizzlies ball,
only twenty yards from the goal line.  There's the snap.  Willingham with
the ball, hands off to Marquez.  No, it's a fake.  Willingham, still with
the ball, heading for the right side.  Here come two Rebel defenders,
number fifty-two Mark Russell and number thirty-one Monster Girl herself.
Russell makes the tackle, and THE BALL IS LOOSE!  Monster Girl scoops the
pigskin and starts toward the goal with an open field in front of her. 
She's at the thirty, the forty, the...  and Marquez with a blinding burst
of speed brings her down just past the fifty.  The Rebels are back in this
ball game.

   "The teams are lining up, but there seems to be a holdup.  It looks like
Coach Parker is arguing with one of his players.  It's..." I picked up the
binoculars and looked though I would have bet my car that it was, "... 
number thirty-one, Monster Girl.  It looks like he wants her off the field,
and she doesn't want to go."

   "She's pointing at the clock, which is still ticking, forty-eight
seconds.  And Parker calls a time-out.  Parker and Tate energetically
discussing strategy."

   "Energetically?" Tami mouthed, and I shrugged.

   "And Monster Girl running out to the huddle, and on the sidelines,
Parker tossing his clipboard and throwing a tantrum."

   Tami rubbed one forefinger down the other in the sign for shame, and I
shrugged again.

   "Monster Girl in the saddle.  She takes the snap, fakes to Hastings,
then fakes to Rogers, and a short pass to Hastings who runs out of bounds
at the forty-two.  Second and four.  Tate takes the snap.  She fades back,
looking for an open receiver, the line opening up, and Tate through the
middle.  Chad Adkins with the tackle, bringing her down on the
thirty-seven. I wish his mother had taught him not to hit girls, but the
Rebels with a first down.

   "Clock is running, Rebels without a huddle.  Tate takes the snap, fakes
to Rogers, hands off to Hastings.  Hastings heading for the left side
and... brought down before he could get out of bounds.

   "Clock still running, no huddle again.  Tate takes the snap.  She's
heading for the left side.  She stops, plants and fires.  Zach Hissman
open. A beautiful catch, and there's no one between him and the goal line!
He's at the twenty, the fifteen, the ten, the five, TOUCHDOWN!  Touchdown,
Rebels!"

   How the hell do professionals do this?  I could barely breathe.

   "The teams are lining up for the extra point.  The snap, Mark Russell
with the kick and...  no good, off the uprights.  The score six-nothing
with thirteen seconds left on the clock.

   "The teams set for the kick-off.  Monster Girl still on the field,
playing for the defense.  She wants this win.  There's the kick, deep into
the back field.  Clay Willingham with the ball, running it back.  He's at
the thirty, the forty, the...  and he's out of bounds at about the
forty-five.

   "Three seconds on the clock.  This is the Grizzlies last chance. 
There's the snap.  Willingham with the ball.  He's scrambling, looking for
the open man.  There's the gun, still scrambling, he finds Ortega down
field, sets and...  Tate with the sack!  Monster Girl finishes the game!"

   I saw Clay for a few minutes after the game.

   "You were right.  She's better than you.  Hits harder too."

   Sometimes being right ain't all it's cracked up to be.



   Chapter 18

   "Are you still on the team?" I asked as I slipped my arm around Robbie's
back and cupped her breast.

   "Don't know.  Don't care.  Feel good."

   I had a feeling that she wasn't talking about the hand that was gently
toying with her already erect nipple.

   "We got the job done," she elaborated.

   "Did Parker say anything?" Tami asked from my other side.  We were
sitting on Robbie's bed, our backs leaning against her headboard, and I had
a tit in each hand.  The stereo was playing something by the Wizards of
Wynter that Cousin Cinnamon had sent, though I didn't get the name.

   "Not a word.  After the game, Parker looked at me a few times, opened
his mouth a few more, but nothing came out.  Then I rode home with you
guys."

   "So what are you going to do?" Tami asked.

   "I'm going to have a nice relaxing Saturday with my best friends.  Then
I'm going to pump them for information."

   "Information?" I asked innocently, though I knew exactly what she
wanted.

   "Yeah, it seems I'm not allowed to have plans for Thursday night, and I
want to know why."

   "Tam, you know anything about a Thursday night?

   "Seems like I heard something.  But it was just a rumor."

   "Well, we don't want to spread rumors."

   "I hate you both," Robbie said without spite.  "And if I wasn't so
comfortable, I'd kick you out of my house." We sat for several minutes,
silently enjoying the company.  "So Friday, we..."

   The door opened, and Bobbi stepped in.  "Robbie, can I borrow..." Her
eyes got too big for her head.  "I should have knocked."

   "Yes, you should have," I agreed without removing my hands.  "Come
here." I indicated Robbie's side of the bed with a jerk of my head.  "This
is just between us," I said when she was standing next to Robbie. 
"Sometimes I cheat on Tami, and we don't want it getting around.  She might
hear."

   "But she's right there," Bobbi said, confused.

   "Yeah, but she isn't very bright.  She never notices."

   "I heard that," Tami piped up.

   The oldest Bradley girl left, shaking her head.  I figured that Robbie
would tell her as much or as little as she wanted her to know later.

   "You say anything involving the words 'life' and 'complicated' and I'll
hurt you," Robbie said as the door closed.

   "Me?  I'm just enjoying a nice relaxing Saturday."

   "So what'd your dad think of the game?" Tami asked as we walked.  The
temperature had jumped up to a tropical sixty-two, and we were wearing
jeans and t-shirts and circling the trailer park.  I had one arm around
Robbie with my hand on her hip and the other arm around Tami with my hand
in it's accustomed place in her back pocket.

   "He made all the usual parental pride noises.  He was a little surprised
that I played almost all defense.

   "What'd he think about you and Parker?"

   "He asked if it was something he wanted to know.  I said no, and he
dropped it.  By the way, Tony, he was listening to the radio at the game
and said you did a great job."

   "My new fan club meets every Wednesday at..." I really should have
expected her fist in my shoulder, and being a tough ex-football player I
wasn't even allowed to cry.

   "So what about Friday?" Robbie asked.  "It's a home game.  Going to be
the voice of KAHJ?"

   "I don't think so," I said, wishing I could rub my shoulder.  "I talked
to Kurt Mahoney yesterday morning, and he said that considering it was my
second announcing gig and my first broadcast, I was awesome.  Compared to
professional sportscasters, I was good.  He's going to have their regular
guy do Friday, then after that we'll see.  I think he's waiting to see if I
get fan mail or complaints."

   "Smart guy," Robbie said after a little consideration.  "So what do you
want to do next week when we're both suspended?"

   "I think I'm solo.  I figure you're scot free."

   "Why?" Tami asked.

   "I was thinking about this last night.  I think..."

   "Wait a minute!" Tami interrupted.  "You and I had your house to
ourselves until midnight and you were thinking about Parker and FOOTBALL?"
I think the clue that tipped me off that I was on thin ice was that every
word in that sentence got a little louder.

   "There was a couple minutes you were gone to the bathroom, and I was
trying to keep my mind off of how much I missed you."

   "Oh, good save," Robbie said

   "You got to admit," Tami said, "my guy thinks fast on his feet."

   I reminded myself for the millionth time to check out monasteries.

   "So why's Robbie getting off and you're toast?"

   "She's cute and she's a redhead," I said with a grin.

   "Don't forget I have nice tits."

   "That only works with Tony.  Not Parker."

   "Don't be so sure," I said.  "But in reality, as a coach, Parker has
four choices: suspend her, fire her, bench her or ignore the whole thing.
We talked about his motivations.  If he suspends her, he basically has to
tell the world that he won Friday's game because she ignored him.  He can
kick her off the team, and that works great if she goes meekly.  Hands up
anybody who thinks Monster Girl is going anywhere meekly." We kept walking.
"Plus, he has to wonder, if she goes, how many go with her.

   "Lastly, he can try benching her.  But what if she won't stay benched?
What if she puts on her helmet and hits the field anyway?  If he sends
somebody else out, he gets called for too many players on the field.  Of
course, he can call time and ask the referees to remove her, but that's the
kind of story that gets picked up by the newspapers and then ESPN.  First
thing you know, it's a joke on Leno."

   "You make it sound like I'm a troublemaker."

   "Nah, you just hang around a bad influence.'

   "Me!" Tami said.  "Can I be the bad influence?" I gave her butt a
squeeze.

   "So I just get away with it?"

   "Pretty much," I agreed.

   "That's no fun.  What about you?"

   "Depends on how stupid Parker is.  And I hate to admit it, but I don't
think he's stupid enough to go after me.  'Cause if he does, he knows I'll
turn it into a constitutional thing, Does a student have a right to air his
opinions on public radio?  It's the sort of thing that's newsworthy and
would make him look petty."

   "So you get away, too," Tami commented.

   "Unless he tries to go after me for something else."

   "Or sets you up?" Robbie pointed out.

   "I have a tape recorder in my back pack.  If Parker wants a meeting, I
pull it out and set it on the desk.  If he refuses to let me record, I walk
out and go straight to Mr.  Reed or Butz."

   "Sounds like you're learning," Robbie said.  I took it as a compliment.
"So how many times do you think you would have been suspended if you'd
stayed in California?"

   I had to think about it a few seconds.  "Probably about the same.  I'm a
little opinionated, and I don't think authority is absolute.  And while I'd
love to believe that no other school is saddled with a Parker, he's
probably not the only one out there.  He may not even be the worst."

   "Bite your tongue," Robbie snapped.

   "Can I have Tami do it for me?"



   Chapter 19

   "You've had a busy morning."

   "I have?" I said, turning around.  I'd been standing in the lunch line
with Tami and Robbie when Stephy Ward came up behind us.

   "Un huh," she said with a giggle.  "When I got to the office second
period, Mr.  Parker was in with Mr.  Reed.  He wasn't exactly yelling, but
he was pretty loud, and even with the door closed I heard your name several
times."

   I tried to look humble.  "One of the prices of fame.  Everybody talks
about you."

   "Just before I left, some guy named Butz went into Parker's office, and
I heard them talking about you some more.  Then last period I had to go
back 'cause I forgot my basic comp homework, and Parker was still
complaining about you."

   "I do seem to get under his skin."

   "Mrs.  Hatcher said he was in with some guy from the school board,
Whitting or Whitney or something, and some guy named Cole."

   "Jason Whitting I know.  He's chairman of the school board.  Cole's a
new one." I looked at Robbie, and she shrugged.

   "Mrs.  Hatcher said he was the district's lawyer."

   I grinned.  "I have a feeling that Charlie Parker's had a very
frustrating morning.  Stephy, my dear, if you have no other plans, can I
buy you lunch?"

   "Sure," she said with a giggle.  "Are you going to be able to coach
gymnastics this year?"

   "Probably.  You going to help?"

   "I can't do that.  Can I?"

   I slipped my arm around her waist.  "I don't see why not.  You're in
high school.  Tami and I are in high school.  The high school doesn't have
a team, so unless you're going out for basketball or something...  Of
course, it's up to Miss Calloway.  You'd have to ask her."

   Stephy looked thoughtful.  "I may just do that."

   "Heads up.  Parker's coming."

   Tami, Robbie and I were standing in the hall after lunch.  Lunch had
actually been good for once, though I'm sure the lunch ladies will promise
never to do it again.  I reached in my back pocket and pulled out a zip
disk.

   I looked at Robbie.  "The answer is yes," I said quietly.

   "What answer?"

   I ignored her and focused on Tami.  "So I'm standing out there with Clay
and the other North Lincoln captain and I show them the disk..." I waved it
in front of me.  "and explain that I had a video file of the whole thing.
Then I..."

   An arm reached over my shoulder and took the disk out of my hand.  I
spun.  "What the...  ?  Mr.  Parker?  What are you doing?"

   He smiled tightly.  "I'll just take this."

   "I told you.  That's private property.  You can't have it without a
subpoena."

   "Mr.  Sims, I suggest you get a better lawyer.  On school property,
everything is subject to inspection and confiscation."

   "He can't do that, can he?" I looked pleadingly at Robbie.

   She hesitated.  "I think...  I think he can."

   Parker smiled and started walking away.

   "You won't get away with this," I told his retreating back.

   I could hear him laugh as he turned the corner.

   "So what was on the disk?" Robbie asked when he was gone.

   "A selection of my best term papers, an MP3 I ripped from the Otter Park
CD of you singing My Way, and an MP3 of my broadcast Friday night.  I
thought about putting a video file of Traci taking a bath when she was four
and then reporting him for child porn, but I figured Trace would never talk
to me again."

   "She's not the only one," Tami said sternly.  "Where's the real disk?"

   "What real disk?" I asked, slipping my arms around the two girls.

   "The one with the video file.  The vandalism," Tami said, confused.

   "There was no video file," Robbie said, looking at me for confirmation.
I nodded.

   "What about the cameras you told them you setup?"

   "Great idea.  Remind me to think of it before the vandalism next time."

   The auditorium was more crowded than I'd expected.  There were at least
eight groups, maybe more.  It was hard to be sure the way people were
milling around.  Parker had called this meeting for second period, so
naturally, the period was half over and we were still waiting.  At least it
was Wednesday, so we were on the downhill side of the week.

   Parker bustled onto the stage and stood at the lectern.  "Everybody sit
down and be quiet.  We have a lot to get through and a short time to do
it."

   "We'd have a lot more time if you got here when you were supposed to," I
mumbled a little louder than I meant to.

   "Mr.  Sims, you had a comment?"

   I stood.  "I said, we'd have a lot more time if you got here when you
were supposed to."

   Parker looked like he was going to explode, then seemed to get a handle
on it.  "Mr.  Sims, it may surprise you to know that I DO have other things
to do beside babysit you and your friends."

   I could tell that the babysit crack did not go over well.  "You're the
one who set the time for this meeting.  I assume for your convenience.  I
know it's not for mine.  I'm missing journalism."

   "You've already been suspended once this month for your attitude. 
Trying for two?"

   "Think you can make it stick this time?"

   Parker sputtered.

   "I'm sure the school board will hate my attitude of not wanting to miss
more class than necessary."

   "THAT'S ENOUGH!  SIT DOWN!"

   I'm not sure what I would have done, but Tami and Robbie pulled me into
my seat.

   Parker glared at all of us, gripping the side of the lectern as if he
expected to be pulled into a vortex any minute.

   "As you may know," Parker said after almost a minute, "this year we have
ten different groups proposing to stage plays for the Prentiss Foundation
Play Contest.  Like last year, the school has decided to stage three, then
let the student body vote."

   I was ready to ask if the voting would be as fair as the voting for
captain of the football team, but a look from Robbie changed my mind.

   "It has fallen to me to make the final decision," he said pompously.

   No way.  I started to jump up, but Tami pushed me down as she stood,
raising her hand.

   "Mr.  Parker?"

   "Yes."

   "Could I ask a couple questions?"

   "Go ahead."

   "Just how are you going to make your decision?"

   "I'll choose the best plays."

   "I just wondered what criteria you were going to use," Tami said
sweetly.

   "What's best for the school," he said as if it was obvious.

   "My problem is this; my partners are Tony Sims and Robbie Tate. 
Everybody knows how you feel about Tony.  And everybody knows how Robbie
totally ignored you at the game last Friday."

   "Are you suggesting I can't be fair?"

   "Yes, sir.  Exactly."

   I decided right then that Parker was going to live forever, 'cause if
his heart was going to attack him, it would have done so right then.

   "SIT DOWN!"

   "But sir, you've just said that your selection process is entirely
subjective."

   "One more word and I cancel the whole program."

   "Is there an appeals process?"

   "We're done.  There won't be a play contest," he yelled as he stomped
off.

   The bell rang, and I had to go to P.E.  wondering if I was a bad
influence on my sweet little Tami, or if I could blame it all on Robbie.

   "Mr.  Reed is not happy with me."

   "Why?" I asked as Tami sat down.  Debate was half over.  I'd been
sitting with Robbie in the back of the classroom.  We were organizing for
some three-on-three debates next week, and Tami was our third.

   "He seems to think I should have talked to him first."

   "First?  What did you do?"

   Tami shrugged, opened her backpack, and pulled out a copy of the local
paper.

   I closed my eyes and shook my head.  "Give me the Reader's Digest
version."

   "I just wrote an article about the play contest," Tami said smiling.  I
couldn't see her smile with my eyes closed, but I could hear it in her
voice.  "I pointed out that Leslie had won the state-wide competition last
year, but that neither she nor the school would be defending our title
because a lone administrator canceled the program rather than answer
questions about the selection process."

   "I knew it," Robbie said.

   I opened my eyes and looked at her.  "Knew what?"

   "I knew my best friend couldn't spend all these years hanging around me
and you and then this summer your cousin Cinnamon without having an act
two."

   "Act two?"

   "You know.  The meeting was act one.  Then the paper was act two."

   Tami looked entirely too smug.  "Mr.  Lebeau at the paper asked me to
write a column about the high school a couple times a week too."

   The world went topsy turvy 'cause right then I actually felt sorry for
Parker.

   It didn't last.



   Chapter 20

   I considered not telling Robbie till show time, but I figured she
already knew.  It's hard to keep a secret when you're advertising all over
the county.  Besides, there are worse things than death, and I didn't want
Robbie putting her mind to what they were.

   It was first period and we were on the stage, trying to get everything
organized.

   "What are you three doing up here?" Parker thundered.  "Just because you
think you're special doesn't mean you can skip classes anytime you want
to."

   I put my hand in the air.

   "Just yesterday you were complaining about missing classes, and now I
find you sitting around gabbing with your friends when you should be in
class."

   I started waving my arm around.

   "There are rules for a reason and they're not just for everybody but
you."

   I'd stood and kept waving my arm.

   "What?"

   I pulled my arm down and smiled.  "Did you ever consider asking a
question, then waiting for the answer instead of starting the lecture?"

   "That's it.  I've had all I'm going to take out of any of you. 
You're..."

   "Mr.  Parker?" Tami said, clamping her hand over my mouth.

   "What?"

   "We have permission." That seemed to slow him down.  "From Mr.  Reed. 
For the whole day."

   "The whole day?"

   "In fact, we need a few other students, too.  Could you possibly get
Toby Reyes for us?  I think he's in geometry right now."

   Parker left, muttering.

   Tami kept her hand over my mouth and turned to face me.  "Do you have to
bait him?  He's having a very bad week."

   "Speaking of which, did he ever say anything about the zip disk?" Robbie
asked, as Tami took her hand away.

   "Not a word.  Hasn't offered to return it either."

   "That's not like him," Robbie mused.

   I shrugged.  "What's he going to say.  If I have the disk and it's not
on school property, he can't touch it.  And I hope that contributes to his
bad week."

   "And it's not going to get any better," Tami added.

   "It isn't?"

   "Friday," she said as if that explained everything, and I guess it did.
Friday was a home game, and Robbie was probably not going to make his life
any easier.

   "You sure you don't want to do this?"

   "You wanted to be an impresario," I said with a smile.

   Tami stuck her tongue out, then walked around the curtain and out onto
the apron of the stage.  She walked to the middle, looked out at the
audience, turned red, and walked quickly back.

   I grinned and handed her a microphone without saying a word.  She
snatched it out of my hand and retraced her steps.

   "It works so much better with one of these," she said, and the audience
laughed.  "I want to thank all of you for coming tonight and showing your
support for our community and the Bradleys." She waited for the applause to
die down.

   "Most of you probably know that the Bradleys lost their home and all
their belongings in a fire last week.  You may also know that the Red Cross
or other aid organizations weren't able to help because they were stretched
to the limit with aid for Katrina victims.

   "Speaking of which," she continued, "some of you may know my friend,
Tony Sims." There was scattered applause and cheering.  "And you may know
he's just a little bit opinionated." That got a bigger laugh than her
mistake with the microphone.  She continued while I was still deciding if I
was offended.  "He's written a petition that he asks you to sign.  It's in
the lobby and would require the Red Cross to keep at least half of their
resources for the local community.

   "As for our local community, eight hundred and ten of you bought tickets
tonight to help out.  Half of that will go to our Red Cross and the other
half toward helping the Bradleys find a new home.  Thank you."

   I could see the Bradley girls in the front row all hugging their mom as
she wiped tears from her eyes.

   "Tonight, fresh from their Western tour, Unrehearsed.  This summer, they
performed in Oregon, California, Arizona, Colorado and Wyoming, including
two radio concerts."

   Okay, that might be stretching things a little bit.

   "And their first CD, Live From Otter Park, has sold out three
pressings."

   And that might be stretching things a lot.

   "Ladies and gentlemen, to get your blood pumping, from the middle
school, and who knew anyone could sing over there," she paused and the
curtains opened.  "TRACI SIMS AND A CLASSIC, JAILHOUSE ROCK!" she yelled
and ran off.

   Traci looked a little embarrassed as the lights died and the spot hit
her, but then the music started and she jumped in.  By the time she time
she got to "Let's Rock," she'd forgotten about the audience and was just
into the music.

   Ninety minutes later and I was almost exhausted.  I'd done five songs,
including a duet with Robbie.  Robbie and the others had done fourteen
more. So far, the hit of the night was a new song that Toby and Sally had
written together called Dumped in the Bleachers.  As Traci sang about her
boyfriend who dumped her for a cheerleader at a football game, I wanted to
punch somebody.  But the high point was when Traci picked up her sax and
let loose with a long sad solo.  Her applause lasted longer than the song.

   "She can't really play that thing," I said as I walked out when the
applause died down.  "We have a tape player in the back." Traci ran out and
stomped her foot down next to mine.  I lifted my foot and started hopping
around as she stomped off.  "Anybody want to buy a little sister?  All
proceeds to charity."

   Peter stood up in the fifth row.  "Five cents!" he shouted.

   Luke was in the third row.  "A dime!"

   The bidding went up bit by bit to a dollar.  Then a guy I didn't know
stood up and yelled, "I'll give you two dollars if you throw in her sax."

   I knew a good punch line when I heard it.  "Sold!" I shouted to stop
Peter and Luke from going on.

   "We want to thank everyone, you've been a great audience.  To finish
tonight we have pair of special requests.  The first is a song that Bobby
Goldsboro did about a decade before I was born.  It's called Summer, the
First Time.  This is for..."

   "No!" someone shouted.

   "No?" I was staring into the spotlight and couldn't tell who had spoken.
I saw a shadow stand and make it's way down the aisle.

   "That's not an appropriate song," Parker said as he got to the foot of
the stage.

   I looked down at him.  "It's not your decision."

   "This is my school, and I'll decide what's appropriate," he said loudly.

   "Guess what Charley.  This isn't a school show.  The district rented us
the auditorium.  We can sing whatever we want."

   "WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?"

   "I called you Charley.  It's not school, and you came to my show."

   "I'll..."

   I ignored him and looked back at the audience.  "How many of you don't
want to let Charley-Baby decide what you can listen to?" The applause was
almost as loud as for Traci's song.  "Be sure to call your school board
tomorrow and let them know what you think about this interruption.

   "As I was saying," I continued without looking back at Parker, "this
song is for Kate Bradley.  She says that it's always been special for her
and her husband John because she robbed the cradle.  He's six years
younger."

   Chad started out on his guitar, then Sally and Toby joined in.

   "It was a hot afternoon,

   last day in June,

   and the sun was a demon.

   The clouds were afraid,

   one ten in the shade,

   and the pavement was steaming.

   I told Billy Ray in his red Chevrolet,

   needed time for some thinking.

   I was just walking by,

   when I looked in her eye,

   and I swore it was winking.

   "She was thirty-one and I was seventeen.

   I knew nothing about love,

   she knew everything.

   but I sat down beside her on the front porch swing,

   and wondered what the coming night would bring."

   Darlene and Robbie came out of the wings and down the stairs at the end
of the stage.  They walked to Kate Bradley and pulled her to her feet and
escorted her up to the center of the stage, where Tami had brought a stool.
They sat her on it, then her girls came up and sat around her.

   "The sun closed her eyes,

   as it climbed in the sky,

   and it started to swelter.

   The sweat trickled down the front of her gown,

   and I thought it would melt her.

   She threw back her hair,

   like I wasn't there,

   and she sipped on a julep.

   Her shoulders were bare,

   and I tried not to stare,

   when I looked at her two lips.

   And when she looked at me,

   I heard her softly say,

   I know you're young.

   You don't know what to do or say.

   But Stay with me until the sun has gone away,

   And I will chase the boy in you away.

   "And then she smiled and we talked for a while,

   And we walked for a mile to the sea.

   We sat on the sand, and a boy took her hand,

   But I saw the sun rise as a man.

   Ten Years have gone by,

   Since I looked in her eye,

   But the memory lingers.

   I go back in my mind,

   To the very first time,

   and feel the touch of her fingers.

   "It was a hot afternoon,

   last day in June,

   and the sun was a demon.

   The clouds were afraid,

   one ten in the shade,

   and the pavement was steaming."

   As I faded out, I leaned forward and gently kissed her on the cheek. 
When I looked back out at the audience, Parker had vanished.  Which was
good, 'cause he was going to really hate the last song.

   "We have one last request.  But first..." I set my microphone down and
arranged the girls in front of their mother.  Then I put Kate's hands over
Bobbi's ears, Bobbi's hands over Billie's ears, Billie's hands over Jo's
ears, and Jo's hands over Betty's ears.  I picked up the microphone. 
"Impressionable you know."

   The audience laughed.

   "This is from John.

   "I don't like to sleep alone,

   stay with me, don't go.

   Talk with me, for just awhile.

   So much of you, to get to know.

   "Reaching out, touching you.

   Leaving all my worries, far behind.

   Lovin' you, the way I do,

   My mouth on yours, and yours on mine."

   I shut up and a gravelly voice took over.  Kate looked like she'd been
hit with a two by four.

   "Marry me.  Or let me live with you.

   Nothing's wrong, when love is right.

   Like the man said, in his song,

   Help me make it through the night."

   John Bradley stepped out from the side of the stage, and Kate actually
knocked Bobbi down as she rushed into her husband's arms.  I picked up the
song again.

   "Loneliness, can get you down,

   when you get to thinking, no one cares.

   Lean on me, and I'll lean on you.

   Together we will see it through."

   The Bradley girls were giving their parents a group hug.

   "I don't like to sleep alone.

   It's sad to think that some folks do."

   No, I don't like to sleep alone.

   No one does, do you?

   "I don't like to sleep alone.

   No one does, do you?"
   "Thank you and good night."