Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿The Trailer Park: The Fifth Year: Part 2: Music and Lyrics A Story in
the Wynter/Trailer Park Universe by Wizard CopyrightÂ(C) 2008 by Wizard

   Chapter 11

   "Why are we here again?"

   "Well, they're here," I said pointing at Traci and Kelly, "'cause I got
stuck doing the grocery shopping and needed someone to fetch and carry. 
Tami's here 'cause I get lonely without her.  You're here 'cause you got
nothing better to do."

   Robbie glared but didn't deny it.

   I shrugged.  "Football's over.  The play's done except for the judging.
Baseball doesn't start till next month.  I suppose you could stay home and
study, hoping to beat certain people in class standings, but why waste your
time?"

   "You're getting pretty smug.  Care for a side bet?"

   "What'd you have in mind?" I asked warily

   Robbie grinned.  "How about your car against mine."

   Tami giggled.  "He'd bet me first."

   Not true.  I'd never bet Tami.  But then, I'd never bet my 'Stang
either.

   "What could I possibly win to replace you, my little Mustang."

   "My little Little Mustang?  Still trying to find a pet name?"

   I shrugged.

   Tami giggled.  "My Little Mustang.  I kinda like it." Tami glided into
my arms and locked her lips against mine.

   "Do you really think Wally's Grocery World is the best place for that?"
Robbie asked sarcastically several seconds later.

   Tami pulled back, embarrassed, but I smiled.  "The store will thank us.
They'll sell more oysters and asparagus."

   Robbie shook her head but Traci and Kelly looked confused.  "Why?" Kelly
asked.

   "They're considered aphrodisiacs," Robbie said, still shaking her head.

   Tami saw that Kelly and Traci were still confused.  "What's an
aphrodisiac?" she asked, knowing the younger girls wouldn't want to.

   Robbie looked startled at the question, then realized why Tami had asked
it.

   "Some foods are supposed to make people feel sexy.  Or sexier," I said.
"Oysters and asparagus are two of the most famous."

   "Figs, truffles, caviar and bananas are some others," Robbie added, not
to be outdone.

   "Why?" Kelly asked.

   "Do they?" said Traci at the same time.

   Learning may be a good thing but I wasn't sure I wanted my sister
knowing about aphrodisiacs.

   "Oysters were thought to be aphrodisiacs because they can change sex
from male to female and back again," Robbie explained.

   "Eeeeew!" both girls chorused.

   "I'm not sure about the others," Robbie admitted.  "Professor?"

   "I know asparagus goes back to the nineteenth century.  They used to
feed it to bridegrooms, but I don't know how it started.  Figs go back to
the ancient Greeks.  Bananas, I think because of their shape."

   The younger girls looked confused again, but Robbie made some kind of
motion I couldn't see and they giggled and nodded.

   "Do they work?" Traci asked again.  Damn one-track mind.

   "Most of them, no.  Except in people's minds, which I guess is enough,"
I said, hoping to close the subject.

   "According to Wikipedia, bananas are full of bromelain," Robbie added.
"It's an enzyme that enhances male performance."

   "I'm for that," Traci said with a grin.  I decided one banana in our
cart and I was locking her in her room.

   "Anybody know where they hide the maraschino cherries?"

   "I do," Kelly announced and scampered away as I studied my list again.
Ground beef, check.  Ribeyes, check.  Pork roast, check.  Chicken thighs
... I looked up and saw the old guy again.  I'd seen him half-a-dozen times
in the twenty minutes we'd been shopping, and he always seemed to be
staring at us.  I figured he was a pervert checking out the girls.  I mean,
Tami, Robbie, Kelly, and even Traci were worth staring at.  But he really
wasn't staring that way, it was more like he was trying to figure something
out.

   I put it out of my head and went back to the list.  Bread, we'd gotten
white, whole wheat, and raisin.  Hamburger buns and dinner rolls.  "Peanut
butter."

   "I'll get it," Traci volunteered.

   I looked around and the geezer was staring at the girls again.  Kelly
came back with a jar of cherries, and the guy's stare didn't shift.  He
wasn't looking at the girls, he was looking at one girl.  Robbie.  Maybe I
could get her to flash her tits at him and make his day.

   But his stare was still wrong.  It was more like the look Traci would
get when I'd help her with her math.  When she almost, but not quite had
the answer.  Suddenly his face brightened and his smile got big.  Without
any hesitation, he came toward us.

   "Excuse me, Miss," he said, and all three girls turned toward him, "but
ain't you Robbie Tate?" he asked as Traci came back and balanced the peanut
butter precariously on the top of the overstuffed cart.

   Robbie smiled.  "Yes, I am."

   "It took me a minute, but I thought I recognized you.  You was
responsible for the most amazing thing I ever done seen in my entire life."

   I decided I could take lessons in hayseed from this guy for the next
road trip.

   "Honey, 'til the day I die I ain't never gonna forget the way you
tackled Billy Trey Henderson on the four yard line in that Falcons game."

   I braced myself for the explosion.  Robbie hated to be called 'honey'
like I hated to be called 'young man'.

   Robbie surprised me.  "You were there?  And you remember little ol' me
from that?" Not only Princess Charming but Miss Alabama too.  Or in her
case, Miss Tennessee.

   "I sure do.  Billy Trey grabbed that interception at his goal line and
took off like a scared rabbit, so fast that I didn't think nobody could
catch him this side of the county line."

   I remembered.  I was on the sidelines watching.  I'd hurt my wrist a
couple plays before, and didn't think anybody was going to stop him.

   "You came outa that pile-up runnin' like the devil was bitin' your tail.
When he crossed the twenty, I figured he'd be past the posts before you
crossed the goal line.  Then you kicked in the turbos.  Honey, I wish I had
a video tape of that just so I could watch it every day and say, 'By golly,
it really did happen'."

   Robbie smiled.  "You're too kind, Mister...  ?"

   "Henderson.  Bill Henderson, Senior."

   Robbie looked surprised.  "Billy Trey's grandpa?"

   "That's me," he said proudly.  "I live in Portland but I'm up here
visiting an old army buddy.  Bit of a chauvinist in my day.  Back then I
would have said no girl could ever tackle a Henderson.  Now I know better.
There ain't nothing a good woman can't do if she sets her mind."

   I signaled the others, and we moved away as they chatted.

   Tami leaned up next to me as I pushed the cart, her hand sliding into my
back pocket and her head leaning on my shoulder.  "One hundred percent and
we can stop counting now," she murmured.

   Thanks to Myron Austen, we had tapes of all the games.  I made a mental
note to make a copy for Mr.  Henderson.



   Chapter 12

   My car was crowded as I drove to school, Tami in the seat beside me and
two cousins and an adopted cousin in the back seat.  I was glad to have my
Mustang back from Mom, but sometimes her minivan made more sense.

   I smiled, listening to the conversation in the back seat.  Wynter seemed
thrilled to be going to high school, if only for the day.  Hailey, the
experienced freshman, wasn't nearly as impressed, and Cinnamon just took it
in stride.

   I just concentrated on my driving and how I was going to sell this to
Mr. Reed.

   Mrs.  Hatcher, the school's secretary, wasn't at her desk when we walked
in, Mrs.  Mires was.  It was a few minutes before first bell, so at least
we didn't have to wade through a sea of students getting tardy slips.

   "Hi, Mrs.  Mires," I said stepping up to the counter.  "Where's Mrs. 
Hatcher?"

   Mrs.  Mires looked at me like she'd just taken a big bite out of a
particularly sour lemon.  I think it was her version of a smile.  "I wasn't
aware that she needed your permission to miss work."

   I smiled while counting to myself.  'One, two, three...  ' I counted in
English.  Then Spanish, French, German, Russian, Swahili, Chinese, Hebrew.
Finally Portugese, Croatian and Afrikaans.  I was hoping to learn my
numbers in Apache and Aztec next.

   Mrs.  Mires had sat watching me during my minute of silence.

   I smiled.  "Of course she doesn't need my permission, but since she's
almost always here, I was hoping she wasn't sick or something.  Tami and I
have been gone a week."

   Mrs.  Mires nodded, looking like she'd just smelled a really pungent
fart.  "Her niece just had a baby," she admitted.  "She'll be back on
Wednesday."

   I considered just taking the cousins to class and asking permission on
Wednesday.

   "Is Mr.  Reed in his office?" I asked after Tami's hand in my back
pocket gave my butt a squeeze.  "Could he spare a minute?"

   "Mr.  Reed is a busy man.  I'm sure he has no time for you." Her tone
inserted three more words in front of her last one, 'for the likes of'.  I
remembered Mrs.  Mires from the other times she'd filled in.  She thought
students should be seen and not heard.

   "Could you check?  I'd appreciate it."

   "If you've been gone a week, wouldn't you be better off visiting your
teachers and getting assignments instead of bothering a busy man like Mr.
Reed?"

   I decided that I was getting on the internet today and working on that
Apache and Aztec.  Maybe Incan and Eskimo too.  "It was scheduled.  We have
all our homework.  Could you...  ?"

   "Why's he, like, bothering with that bitch?" Hailey whispered a little
too loudly.

   There was a moment of complete silence.

   "WHITNEY GWYNETH, YOU'RE..."

   "QUIET!" I snapped, turning around to Cinnamon.  "Bend over," I
commanded Hailey.

   "Why?"

   "Now!" Hailey bent and I slapped her butt, hard.  The sound echoed
through the office.  I turned back to Mrs.  Mires.  "I apologize Ma'am. 
Her parents don't beat her nearly enough."

   Mrs.  Mires face cracked in what I think may have been a smile.  It
scared me.  "I'll see if Mr.  Reed has a minute," she said, standing, then
walking back to his office.

   I turned back to the cousins.  All three looked surprised.

   "Remind me to kiss you later," I whispered to Hailey.  "It usually takes
at least five minutes longer to get past the palace guard."

   "That hurt," Hailey whispered back rubbing her butt with an exaggerated
motion.

   I gave her a big smile.  "Call anyone else a bitch today and it'll hurt
worse."

   I turned back to the counter as Mrs.  Mires came back with Mr.  Reed.

   "The prodigal returns," he announced loudly.

   "Prodigal?" I heard behind me.  "Hey, is that football, like
quarterback?"

   Mr.  Reed smiled even bigger.  "Prodigal is a funny word.  According to
the dictionary, it means wasteful or a spendthrift.  But when we talk about
the prodigal or the prodigal son, we usually mean long lost, someone who's
been gone a long time." He looked at me.  "You've been recruiting.  You've
brought me fresh meat."

   "For the day.  These are my cousins.  They're from the mountains in
Colorado.  I've been explaining to them that here in Washington we have a
lot of newfangled ideas about education, like spelling riting with a W and
rithmatic with an A and pens with the ink inside instead of in an inkwell."

   "Oh, Tony," Tami moaned softly, shaking her head.

   Mr.  Reed's smile changed.  "The mountains in Colorado.  High county
folk?"

   I started to add something about taking goats and sheep to class, but
Tami was firmly shaking her head.

   "I'm guessing you don't know where I started teaching?"

   Started teaching?  What does that have to do with anything?

   "Little town in the mountains west of Denver."

   Oh oh!

   "In fact..."

   Life couldn't be that unfair.

   " ...  Griffin Middle School was brand new my first year."

   I need a bigger world.

   "You taught at Griffin?" Wynter asked.  "Do you know Mr.  Shelby?"

   "Or Mr.  Peters?" Cinnamon added.

   Mr.  Reed looked surprised.  "Must be after my time.  It was twenty
years ago.  I taught there my first two years, then moved to the on-base
school at Ramstein Air Force Base in Germany."

   "How about Mr.  Tilman, the custodian?" Hailey asked.  "He's been there
forever."

   "Bill Tilman?"

   I looked back just as all three girls nodded.

   "He's still there?"

   They nodded again.

   "Billy's still there," he mused.  "He was always coming up with
get-rich-quick schemes.  Wanted to move to New York and live in a
penthouse."

   "He still wants to move to New York and live in a penthouse," Cinnamon
said.

   I looked back at Mr.  Reed.  "So Billy Tilman is still at Griffin," he
mumbled.  "So, Tony, what can I do for you this morning?"

   "I wanted to ask a favor."

   "A favor?  I'd better sit down." He waved his arm toward the back of the
office.  "Come on back."

   I pulled open the gate and let the four girls through just as the bell
for first period rang.

   "So what's this favor?" Mr.  Reed asked when he was sitting behind his
desk and we were standing in front of it.

   "As I said, these are my cousins and I was hoping..."

   "Mr.  Reed..." Tami interrupted.  "I don't know what it was like in the
mountains when you were there, but now they actually let girls have
individual names."

   I felt the heat rising in my cheeks.

   "This is Wynter King and Cinnamon Brees.  They actually live in
Colorado."

   Mr.  Reed looked startled.  "Wynter King?  The mine rescue?"

   "Yes, sir," Wynter replied.

   He made an odd smile, as if remembering something funny. 
Humorously-funny, not oddly-funny.  "I'm pleased to meet you and am happy
that everything worked out well for you and ...  Jimmy, wasn't it?"

   "Yes, sir.  Thank you."

   Tami waited to see if he was finished, then continued.  "And this is
Hailey Kennedy who just snuck in to steal the eighth grade election last
year."

   "Snuck in?"

   "Like, my parents went to the South Pole, so I, like, stayed with Cousin
Cinnamon."

   "The South Pole?"

   "McMurdo Sound and the Ross Sea, actually," Wynter clarified.  Her dad's
a marine biologist."

   "Interesting." Mr.  Reed leaned forward and whispered loudly, "Does Tony
know they have names?"

   Tami shook her head.  "He just calls them 'Cuz' and points," she
whispered back.

   I was thinking about going home and pulling a blanket over my head.

   "So Tony, what's this favor for you and your cousins?"

   "I was hoping they could spend the day with Tami and me."

   "Hmmm.  I'm not sure.  They go to Griffin, so they're middle school..."

   "I go to Dunne," Hailey stuck in.

   "They won't be any trouble," I said, mentally crossing my fingers.

   "They really should be in their own schools, learning and
matriculating," he said with a smile.  "You." He pointed at Hailey.  "What
do you have first period?"

   "History."

   "What are you studying?"

   "Israel," Hailey said almost timidly.

   "Who started the Six-Day War?"

   I noticed Wynter biting her lip.

   Hailey grinned.  "Hey!  So not the big!  Like, it depends on who you
ask, or, like, whose history book you use.  Like, Israel started shooting
first, but they so had the reason!  The Arabs were, like, moving like tons
and tons of troops onto the border and had, like, cut them off from the Red
Sea."

   Mr.  Reed looked stunned, and he wasn't the only one.

   "Uh, you." He pointed at Wynter.  "What do you have first period?"

   "Science."

   "What are you studying?"

   "The human body.  This week we're doing blood and fluids."

   "So what's blood made of?"

   "Mr.  Reed," I said before Wynter could start.  "Do you mind if we sit
down and get comfortable?"

   "Huh?"

   "Blood," Wynter started, her forehead furrowing slightly as the rest of
us took seats.  " ...  is composed of blood cells suspended in plasma.  The
blood cells are red blood cells called erythrocytes, white blood cells
including both leukocytes and lymphocytes and platelets called
thrombocytes. The plasma is predominantly water containing dissolved
proteins, salts and other substances.  Plasma is approximately fifty-five
percent of blood by volume.

   "Now the red blood cells, the erythrocytes are..."

   I was as proud of Wynter as if she'd been a real cousin.  So far she
hadn't stumbled over a single word.

   "They teach that in eighth grade science?" Mr.  Reed gasped eight
minutes later as Wynter finished.

   I grinned.  "Wynter's a future doctor.  The hospital there has already
let her sit in on deliveries and surgeries.  I think Stockholm already has
her penciled in for the twenty thirty Nobel in medicine."

   "Thank god.  I thought we were falling way behind." Mr.  Reed looked at
Cinnamon, who smiled sweetly back, but decided against it.  "Go to class,"
he growled.  "I've got work to do."

   The day went smoothly.  Except when Wynter corrected my chemistry
teacher over a chemical formula.  And was right.

   At lunch, I drove the cousins to Traci's school for the rest of the day.
I'm not sure if it was because Mr.  Hallowell and I got along so well after
coaching a baseball team together or because Mr.  Reed warned him, but he
had no problem with the cousins hanging with Traci for the rest of the day.

   After school, they watched gymnastics practice and got to talk to Kelly
a little.  Traci loved showing off for them.

   About four, we jumped in my car.  Traci stayed for practice, and I broke
several speed laws racing to Wenatchee.

   "We're never going to make it," Wynter said.

   "There's always tomorrow," I said flippantly.  "Unless the blizzard
hits. Last time it closed the airport for a week." Wynter was sitting
behind me, so I couldn't see her face.

   "Stop teasing," Tami said with a light slap on the arm.

   "Oh, fuck!" Hailey said just as I turned off the highway toward the
airport.

   "What?" I asked making a hundred to one bet with myself as to the
answer.

   "Our luggage.  Like, we so forgot to stop and get our stuff."

   "I guess we'll have to go back and try again tomorrow," I said while
congratulating myself on winning my bet.

   "But, the blizzard...  ?" Wynter said.

   "The forecast for tomorrow is a light early morning rain then clouds
mixed with sun," Cinnamon said calmly.

   "And your luggage has been here since noon," Tami added.

   Spoilsports.

   "We haven't even got tickets yet," Wynter pointed out.  "And you're
supposed to get to the airport two hours before your flight.  Ours leaves
in ...  twenty minutes."

   A sideways look from Tami made me decide to be nice as I pulled around
the side of the terminal and parked next to a golf cart where a big guy
appeared to be taking a nap.

   "In the words of my favorite Pineapple Princess, 'So not the problem'."

   "She gets Pineapple Princess and I get Armadillo and Jackalope," Tami
accused.

   "Hers, I stole from an Annette Funicello song.  And I thought we decided
on Mustang."

   The big guy walked over as I turned off the car.  "Are you the VIP's?"

   I nodded.  "In the back." We got out, and he handed each of the cousins
a ticket, courtesy of Dad's credit card.  Then we piled on the cart, and he
zipped us inside and right up to the departure gate, skipping the crowded
security station.  Robbie's dad was a poker buddy of the airport manager.

   Tami and I gave all the girls hugs as the big dude took their tickets
again and walked to the head of the check-in line.  As Cinnamon pulled back
from me, she looked at me with her curious expression.

   "You can never have too many friends."

   She nodded, and the three girls disappeared into the airplane.



   Chapter 13

   "Ladies!"

   The gymnasts who had been milling around quickly took seats on the
bench, Cheyenne sitting last.

   "I am very disappointed.  In fact, I'm down right disgusted." The girls
looked at each other in surprise.  In the bleachers I saw parents who were
mostly used to my after-meet tirades looking surprised, too.  I waited a
beat.  "I hate ties.  Next time, win or lose, but no more ties."

   Kelly stood.  "On behalf of the team..." and blew me a loud raspberry
before sitting back down.

   "I will be taking applications for the NEW team captain right after
we're done here." Predictably, Kelly stuck her tongue out.  "We tied, and
have I mentioned that I hate ties?

   Several more tongues shot out.

   "But the team we tied took third in the district last year and last week
beat the team that took second, so we'll settle for a tie.  This once.

   "Not settling for a tie, Cheyenne and Kelly took one and two in the
all-around.  Looking good, girls." Kelly grinned, but Cheyenne glared. 
Even taking first place, she was sure she'd been underscored on beam and
bars and was annoyed that her coaches hadn't protested her scores.

   "And Traci, making her big brother proud set a new scoring record."

   Traci turned red, several girls giggled, but Suzie and Kelly put their
arms around her in a hug.  Traci had scored a zero on vault.  In vaulting,
the girls do two vaults, declaring to the judges the vault they're going to
do before starting.  Traci did her full twist when she declared her
handspring and vice versa.  In her defense, you declare the vault by
flashing a four-digit number, and she'd mixed up the cards they were
printed on, not that I was going to let her live it down anytime soon. 
"But while Traci goofed, her team didn't, being there to support her when
she finished."

   First home meet and a tie, but that was better than last year when we
didn't win a single meet, home or away.

   "Good meet, and I'm proud to be one of your coaches.  In fact, when the
season is over, I may take credit for you instead of putting all the blame
on Mrs.  Calloway and Stephy."

   Cheyenne muttered something I didn't catch, but I decided to let it go.

   "Two laps and go home."

   "You seem to be entirely too satisfied with yourself."

   Robbie's voice pulled me back from wherever I'd been.  "I have a lot to
be satisfied about.  The girls had their best meet yet last night, even if
Trace screwed up her vault." Ten feet behind me I heard an indignant sound.
Tami, Robbie and I were walking the park, even though a light snow was
falling.  Traci and Peter, our faithful shadows, trailed behind.

   "Our play is done, except for the judging.  The fourth play went off
last night, and the fifth one should be finishing about now.  Next week we
win, they give us our check, and all we have left to do is cheat the eighth
graders and Peter out of their shares."

   "We heard that!"

   I grinned.  "And the best part, today was the last day of the grading
period, so next week we should have new class standings."

   "You sound pretty sure of yourself," Tami said before Robbie could make
her own, probably acidic, comment.

   "I am," I said confidently.  "Either I win and I can rub her nose in it
for another nine weeks, or she wins and we can all relax."

   "You are so full of it," Robbie muttered.

   "True.  All too true."

   "TONY SIMS, ROBBIE TATE, PLEASE COME TO THE OFFICE."

   I took a moment to remind myself that Parker was long gone before
breathing.  I glanced at Robbie.  She was already gathering her books.  I
copied her.  Mrs.  Wayne waved us away when I looked at her for homework
assignments.

   "Well?" I said, when we were in the hall.

   Robbie smiled.  "It's not the play.  They would have called Tami too."

   I nodded.  It was Wednesday, and they were supposed to be announcing the
results sometime tonight.  The winner and two runner-ups had a banquet in
Seattle this weekend.

   "Could be class standings, I suppose.  Mr.  Reed wants to tell us in
person the world has gone back to normal," Robbie said with a grin.

   "Nope.  Those come out second period tomorrow.  Some of the teachers
won't get their records in till four today.  That's the deadline."

   "Slackers," she muttered.

   I grinned, trying not to let her see it.  I knew how much she wanted
back on top.

   "Can't be about a suspension, 'cause I never get suspended."

   That's the great thing about having a best friend: the support you get.
"Could be football, I suppose.  We were captains.  But that ended a month
ago."

   Robbie nodded.  "And if it was baseball, they would have called Ricky."

   We shrugged and kept walking.  We'd just have to wait.

   "Hi, you sent for us?"

   Mrs.  Hatcher, the school secretary, was talking to Mr.  Reed when we
walked up to the counter.

   "You have a meeting in the conference room," Mrs.  Hatcher said.

   "But I'd like a word in my office first," Mr.  Reed added.

   I nodded and held the gate open for Robbie as we followed him in.  He
hadn't moved from the vice principal's office to the somewhat larger
principal's office until after Parker had left.  I guessed it was his way
of not rubbing salt in the wound,

   He didn't sit or close the door.  "You have a meeting next door that I
won't be part of.  Some of you may be tempted toward an in-your-face
attitude." He wasn't subtle; he was looking straight at me.  "But remember
you represent this school." He looked like he wanted to add more but
decided against it.  We nodded.

   Mr.  Reed led us out of his office to the conference room next door.  He
didn't knock but opened the door and ushered us in.  "Gentlemen," he said
to the three men sitting there, "Miss Tate and Mr.  Sims."

   "Thank you.  You can go," said the one in the middle who looked vaguely
familiar.

   "Why?" said Robbie quickly.

   "Excuse me?" middle man said.

   "She asked why you were dismissing Mr.  Reed," I explained for the
mentally impaired.  "It's his school, and unless Mr.  Butz has retired and
you're his replacement, Mr.  Reed doesn't work for you."

   Middle man stood up.  "Do you know who I am?" he asked, and suddenly I
did.

   "Sure, you're Mr.  Spaulding, the big shot from WSAA who doesn't think
teenagers can think without an adult telling them what to do."

   Robbie cocked her head in understanding, not having met him before.

   "This is Mr.  Reed's school.  Since we're students and it's during
school time, and you gentlemen represent school activities, this is
obviously about school.  We'd like him to stay, if he isn't busy.  Unless
you had something to hide?"

   Spaulding looked at the men on either side then nodded.  "He can stay,"
he said sitting back down.

   "That's very generous of you," Robbie said and took a seat opposite
Spaulding.  I sat to her left and Mr.  Reed took the chair at the head of
the table.

   "What can we do for you?" I asked after several seconds silence.

   "It's about the trouble you've caused," said the man to Spaulding's
right.

   "If you're accusing us of starting trouble, we don't need Mr.  Reed, we
need our parents and our lawyers," Robbie said standing up.  I followed
suit, trying hard to keep a straight face.

   "No, no, no," Spaulding said, standing himself.  "You're not in trouble
and nobody's accusing you of anything."

   "It still might be a good idea to have our lawyers," Robbie mused.  "But
I suppose we can listen.  What do you think Tony?"

   Like I had a vote.  "We can listen." Robbie and I sat.  Mr.  Reed had
his elbows on the table, his hands covering his mouth and probably a big
smile.

   Spaulding looked like a man trying to figure out where he'd lost
control. "It's about this Lake situation," he said after awhile.

   I smiled and stood.  "Lake, no problem.  Follow the road out front to
the highway heading north.  Then you follow..."

   "I know where Lake is!" he bellowed.

   I think I was supposed to be intimidated.

   "Then why aren't you there?" Robbie asked sweetly.  "That's where the
Lake situation is."

   "If you two would sit down and shut up for..."

   Mr.  Reed stood up so fast his chair rolled back into the wall.  "We're
done.  Robbie, Tony, you can go back to class, I believe seventh period has
just begun."

   I knew I always liked him.

   "You can't." "We're here..." "This is..." all three men were trying to
talk at once.

   Robbie and I ignored them, stood, and started gathering our books.

   "Wait!" The man on Spaulding's left managed to calm his companions. 
"Mr. Reed, I, we apologize.  It's no excuse, but we've been on the road all
day dealing with one thing after another." He paused, waiting to see if his
words were having any effect.

   Mr.  Reed looked at us.  "Robbie?  Tony?" I looked at Robbie, she
nodded, and we returned to our seats.

   Spaulding and the man on his right sat down, glaring at Mr.  Reed and
us,

   "What Mr.  Spaulding was trying to say, I'm Mr.  Kennedy, by the way."
My favorite president.  "That's Mr.  Rosen.  What Frank was trying to say
is that the Lake situation is causing lots of problems, and we wanted to
see if we could work something out."

   "Lake has had to cancel eighteen activities in five different sports,"
Mr.  Rosen added.  "Plus several more where the opposite team just didn't
show up."

   "It's easy," I said, wishing I wore suspenders so that I could hook my
thumbs in them and give them a snap.  "Fire Rich."

   "We can't do that," Spaulding said sulkily.

   "Then fire the district.  Suspend Lake until their coaching staff
represents the twenty-first century instead of the twelfth," Robbie
suggested.

   "We can't do that either," Spaulding snapped.

   "Actually, yes you can," I said.  "You mean, you won't."

   "No, we won't," Spaulding said standing again and motioning Kennedy back
in his seat.  "And we don't need any more of your suggestions."

   "Then what do you need?" Robbie asked.

   "We need you to end this silly boycott."

   For a second, I thought Robbie was going to reach across the table and
take his head off.  "Personally, I'd never get involved in a SILLY boycott.
But I didn't start it.  Ask Tony."

   "I'm guessing you never protested Vietnam or anything else."

   "A fucking liberal." The word fucking almost under his breath.

   "Actually, I plan to register Republican in another thirteen months."
Somehow that didn't make him happier.  "And I'm not a liberal, not in most
things, anyway.  What I meant was, I doubt you ever cared enough about
anything to protest it or even write a letter to the editor." I could see
in his eyes I was right.

   "What does that have to do with anything?"

   "We care.  We don't think Rich belongs in high school athletics, and
since you won't do anything, we've done what we could." I paused for a
breath.  "In fact, we've already had discussions with the guy who will
probably be captain of our baseball team about whether we're going." Okay,
maybe it wasn't an in-depth conversation, and maybe we were talking about
Robbie and me, but I can't be responsible for the conclusions they draw. 
Robbie cocked an eyebrow a fraction on an inch, but nodded
enthusiastically.

   "Now...  !"

   "Frank!" Kennedy said, rising and putting his hand on the other man's
shoulder.

   Spaulding looked disgusted but sat down.

   "We applaud your convictions but think this has gone on too long." He
looked directly at Robbie.  "Coach Rich is willing to write you a letter of
apology.  If..."

   "No!" I said.  "She'll rip it up and throw it in his face.  If Rich
really wanted to apologize, he would have done it, not made it part of some
plea bargain."

   Robbie nodded.

   "I plan to play two more years of baseball and one more of football, and
I DON'T plan to play at Lake as long as Rich is a coach there."

   "Maybe you won't play then," Spaulding muttered.

   I grinned.  "Oh, please, try to suspend me.  I'll take your house, your
car, the clothes on your back."

   Spaulding jumped to his feet and opened his mouth.

   "I guess we're done here," Kennedy said quickly.

   "This is all off the record, of course," Rosen added.  I wondered if
Trout had warned them my girlfriend was a reporter slash columnist.

   "I don't think so," Robbie said.  "You want something off the record,
you tell us about it before the meeting, not after."

   Mr.  Reed caught our eyes and nodded toward the door.  We gathered our
stuff and left.

   It had been a little in-your-face, but I didn't think Mr.  Reed would
complain.



   Chapter 14

   "How's my favorite math genius?"

   Kelly Dubrey turned, a big smile on her face.  Then, for some reason,
her smile faded.

   Kelly had changed a lot in the last couple years.  For one thing, she'd
hit her growth spurt and wasn't the shortest kid in our class anymore,
despite being two years younger.  And she'd grown tits.  Not big
watermelons, but nice handfuls that seemed to be exclusive to Ryan Gates, a
boy a year older, a grade behind, and almost as smart as her.

   "What do you need hacked now?" That would explain it.  Someone was
feeling used.  Not that I could blame her.

   "Let me see about getting you out of gym and we'll talk."

   Kelly nodded, not about to blow a chance to get out of her least
favorite class.  I left Kelly by the door and went into the gym.  Miss
Wiley was standing by the opposite wall.  She was a substitute, but at
least I knew her.  I explained briefly, and she nodded just as three dozen
girls thundered into the gym from the locker room.  I took a second to
admire legs and bouncy titties, then went back to Kelly.

   "Now we can hang," I said as I got back.  Since the day was clear and in
the fifties, despite a forecast of eight inches of snow, I figured one of
the benches on the lawn by the side of the school would be perfect.

   "What do you want?" Kelly said a little sharply as we sat down.

   I ignored her tone.  "First of all, I wanted to offer congratulations."

   "For what?" Still a little sharp.

   "The NASA thing."

   "You congratulated me in December when I became a finalist.  I went to
Houston just before Christmas.  I haven't heard anything yet."

   I grinned.  "I have."

   "You have?" Excitement had replaced the sharpness.

   I stood and bowed.  "Miss Dubrey, may I be the first to congratulate you
on placing fifth in the NASA Challenge."

   Her face fell.  "Fifth?"

   I sat, took both her hands, and kissed her on the forehead.  "Before you
get terminally depressed and we have to buy you a white coat with extra
long arms that fasten in the back, then ship you to the state loony bin,
may I point out that the four people who beat you were all seniors. 
College seniors."

   "They were?  How the heck do you know all this.?"

   "Mr.  Reed told me since I'm interviewing you for the paper.  Let's see,
'Tears filled her eyes as she experienced the agony of defeat'.  How does
that sound?"

   "You wouldn't write that?"

   I grinned again.  "Of course not.  If you promise to be excited instead
of bummed about fifth."

   "But fifth?"

   "Out of twenty-three very smart college students.  The other high school
student, the kid from Boston, didn't even make top ten."

   "Cool."

   "Very cool.  And there's more if you promise to smile."

   Kelly grinned.  I think she forgot she was mad at me.  "I promise."

   "Well, the scholarship you won for fifth place is only three grand..."

   "So...  ?"

   "Well, I hope you like California, 'cause CalTech and Stanford just
offered you full rides."

   Kelly looked stunned.  "You're kidding?"

   "I'd never kid about Stanford.  CalTech maybe, but not Stanford."

   "But how?"

   "Mr.  Reed has a whole package for you and your parents.  Both those
schools want you to come visit.  Probably others too."

   "Tony, that's fantastic," she said hugging me.

   "I didn't do anything.  And before we try an interview, don't forget
you're mad at me."

   "I am?  I am."

   "And I was wondering why?"

   "Well ...  it's just that ...  I mean..."

   "Deep breath," I suggested.

   Kelly took a deep breath which gave me a chance to admire the tits she'd
grown.  "It's just that Ryan said you only come to see me when you need
something," she said quickly.

   Yep, feeling used.  Too bad Ryan doesn't play football.  I could
accidentally step on his face.

   "I guess Ryan's right."

   "He is?" Kelly sounded surprised.

   "In a way.  What I mean is, you and I don't have the same circle of
friends, so we don't hang much.  We talk when we see each other in the hall
and stuff, but usually if I come looking for you, it's for a favor.

   "Yeah," she said and nodded.

   "I think of you as a friend, and friends do favors for each other.  I
hope you realize that it goes both ways."

   Kelly thought about it, then nodded again.  "I remember what you did for
Allie when Mr.  Singara thought she cheated."

   My turn to nod.  "All my friends are important to me, even the ones who
are smarter than I am, like you and Robbie."

   Kelly grinned.  "You think Robbie's smarter?"

   I help out my hand with my thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch
apart.  "That much.  But don't tell her."

   "I won't." Kelly giggled and nodded.  "I'm sorry I was mad at you."

   "Don't be.  I'd rather have you mad than resenting me silently.  This
way we cleared the air.  And I'm not mad at Ryan.  He was right.  I usually
want something when I come looking for you." Not mad, but I still wouldn't
mind stepping on his face.  Accidently.

   "But when you wanted me to hack those computers, it wasn't for you.  It
was for Tami and Luke," she said as if just realizing it.

   I shrugged.  "Ready for that interview?"

   "Did CalTech and Stanford really offer me scholarships?"

   "Nope."

   She looked like I'd just hit her between the eyes with a two-by-four. 
"No?"

   "Stanford and CalTech offered you scholarships.  In polite conversation,
Stanford is always named first."

   "How is she?"

   Tami slipped her arm around me and her hand into my back pocket.  I'd
just joined her in the lunch line.  Robbie was about a dozen people in
front of us talking to Darlene.

   "A little on edge, but probably not dangerous as long as nobody makes
any fast moves," Tami said with a sigh.

   It was about what I expected.  "Is your news going to make it better or
worse?"

   Tami looked suspicious.  "Are you asking because you're concerned or
because you want to know before she does?"

   I sighed.  "Both, I guess."

   "That's my Tony.  Too honest for his own good."

   "You're smiling," Robbie accused as Tami and I sat down with our
lunches. "You beat me again."

   "Not a clue," I said in my defense.  "Tami wouldn't let me see the class
lists, I went on another story.  And I'm smiling because I like to smile.
And because a friend got good news."

   "Who?" Robbie asked.

   "What?" Darlene added.

   So I told them about Kelly Dubrey.

   "If she takes a full scholarship from CalTech or whatever, what does she
do with the scholarship money NASA gives her?" Peter asked.

   I shrugged.  "Depends on what strings are on it.  If it's just for
tuition in an undergrad or graduate program, I guess she gives it to the
school and doesn't get anything out of it.  If it's a loose educational
purposes type thing, she can take a trip to Rome and look at the Coliseum
or something."

   Robbie laughed.  "Knowing Kelly, she'd probably go to Kazakhstan to
check on the Russian space program."

   I nodded.

   I looked over at Robbie, then Tami.  Tami was eating her hamburger gravy
on rice as if it was actually food.  Robbie looked at Tami then me, then
back at Tami.  Finally Mikee couldn't take it anymore.  "Are you going to
tell them or what?"

   "Tell them what?" Tami asked innocently.

   "Think we can get away with putting her on the table and tickling her
till the bell for next period rings?" I asked Robbie.

   She glanced over her shoulder.  "Mr.  Singara has the lunch duty.  He
doesn't like you.  He'd probably decide you were having too much fun."

   "Damn!"

   "The stage is empty," Darlene volunteered with a bright smile at Tami.

   "We could charge admission.  Make some more money for the prom
committee," Robbie suggested.

   Tami started choking on the mouthful of rice she'd just eaten, so I
pounded her a couple times between the shoulder blades while grinning at
Robbie for her suggestion.

   Tami wiped her mouth with a napkin, then looked at us.  "If it's that
important to you..." I looked at Robbie, then back at Tami and nodded. 
Robbie was nodding too.

   Tami grinned.  "I was seventh." Tami paused as if that was all.

   "Think Singara will give you a hard time when we carry her out of here?"
Robbie asked.

   "Okay, okay.  More good news for Kelly.  She beat Toby Mather for
third."

   I looked at Monster Girl, "So how much do you think we should charge?"

   Tami stood, putting her nose in the air as if offended.  She picked up
her tray and carried it to the kitchen window, then came back and stood
behind Mikee and Peter.  "I SHOULD make you both wait for the paper on
Friday."

   Robbie and I both held our hands in front of us, flexing our fingers.

   "Just remember, I'm just the messenger.  I was rooting for both of you."

   "I wasn't," Darlene said.  "I was rooting for Toby.  Poor guy's got no
life.  Grades are all he's got."

   I stuck my tongue out at her, then fixed my stare on Tami.

   Tami looked at Robbie and shrugged.  "My guy.  By three thousands of a
point."

   Robbie sighed.  "I should demand a recount."

   I hugged her.  "It's okay, everyone knows who the smart one of us is. 
Sometimes I just get lucky."

   Robbie hugged back hard.

   "I could have sworn there were rules about this sort of thing," Singara
said walking up.

   I let go of Robbie and grinned at him.  "Yes, sir.  The student
handbook. Page seventeen, the fourth paragraph.  Did you need me to quote
it for you?"

   Singara looked confused.

   "Just the group I was looking for," Mr.  Reed said as he came up on the
other side, "though I understand I might need a whip and a chair."

   Robbie looked defensive.  "I haven't been that bad."

   Mr.  Reed smiled.  "There's a picture of you in the teachers' lounge. 
The caption says 'Dangerous--approach with caution.'"

   Robbie's mouth opened to say something, but I gave her another hug and
quick kiss.

   "Robbie's been a little on edge today," Tami explained, "waiting to hear
about the play.  And other things."

   "And her friends haven't been as supportive as they could be," I added.

   Mr.  Reed smiled again.  "Any more supportive and I may have to notice
officially.

   I nodded, but gave Robbie one more hug.

   "And as far as the play, it may make her feel better to know that you
all have a dinner date in Seattle on Saturday."

   "Cool," I said.  Robbie's the competitive one, but I wanted it too.  We
all did.

   "It's been a good week for the school," Mr.  Reed said.  "Between your
play and Kelly Dubrey."

   "Tony told us.  It's fantastic," Tami said.

   "And you think that's good, just wait until baseball season," Robbie
added.  I thought about switching to track.  In baseball, losing was no
longer an option.

   "Page seventeen, paragraph four," Robbie accused as we headed for class.

   "It's in there somewhere.  It might as well be page seventeen."



   Chapter 15

   If there had been bonus points for style, Zoe's Song got 'em.

   Peter and I were turned out in black tuxedos, and the girls wore long
elegant dresses.  The official invitation to the banquet had said
semi-formal, and of the other two casts, only half-a-dozen guys had even
bothered with ties.  We stood out.

   It had been Robbie's idea.  She complained that she'd never seen me in a
tux and Tami had.  She'd been right.  As much as I hate even wearing a tie,
we looked good.  We looked the part of winners even if we didn't win.

   The banquet was pretty ordinary.  It could have been the end of season
sports banquet in the Holiday Inn back home.  Chicken that was--by luck of
the draw--either cooked dry or raw, and mashed potatoes better suited for
making sculptures of Devil's Tower.  Too bad I hadn't run into any UFOs
lately.

   The room was divided into three sections.  In a sports banquet, it would
be the coaches in front, the athletes at the middle tables, and the parents
in the back.  For this, the judges and foundation honchos had the front,
but the rest was the same.  The three casts were seated at three long
tables.  Vlad had the left side, we were in the center, and Mirror, Mirror
was on the right.  We'd seen Vlad the night before we performed, but all we
knew about Mirror, Mirror was that it was an adaptation of one of Agatha
Christie's Miss Marple stories.

   A distinguished black man stood at the dais as a waitress replaced my
half-eaten chicken--I'd gotten one of the half-raw pieces--with a dish of
tapioca that had seen better days.  "LADIES!  GENTLEMEN!" the background
noise of dozens of conversations started to fade.  "I am your host this
evening, Mark Eddington.  It is my honor to chair the endowment committee
of the Prentiss Foundation." There was a smattering of applause, mostly
from the parent section.  What is a smattering anyway?

   "This year we had thirty-seven entries from schools all over the state.
Three of the schools had mini-competitions among their students to select
their school's entry." Only three.  I was surprised.  I figured our school
was part of the norm.  I guessed that meant in most schools, the drama
teacher or someone selected the play for the students.  "So in total there
were forty-five plays, and in any other state, any one of them would have
won.

   "A quick note before we see some of the entries.  After much discussion,
it has been decided that next year the competition will be held in
February. It has been difficult for some of the school groups to get
organized so soon after school starts.  Especially in the schools with
multiple entries." Tami had mentioned that it was a possibility.  I think
she got it off the foundation's website.  I wasn't sure if I liked the
idea.

   "Now a quick look at the three semi-finalists who aren't with us
tonight." As he spoke, a large white screen descended in front of the wall
behind him, the lights dimmed and the screen lit with a group of teenagers
in period costume.  It took only a few seconds to recognize Hamlet.  Two
minutes later, the screen faded to loud applause which was more than it
deserved.  Not that it was bad, it was just ordinary.  I figured it was the
judges' nod to the classics.

   The screen lit again.  This time it took me longer to recognize The
Glass Menagerie.  As I watched, I searched under the table and found Tami's
hand.  I needed it.  I'd always thought the play was depressing, and
somehow this group had managed to make it even more so.  The applause when
the screen went dark was more subdued than for Hamlet.  I decided that
whatever region this play represented had no talent if this was the winner.

   The screen lit a third time, and it took almost a minute for me to
realize I was watching a musical version of Faust.  The devil was played by
a redheaded girl who could have been Robbie's cousin, and she hit a perfect
tone for the character.  If the rest of the cast had been half as strong, I
think we would have been looking at the winner.  The clip was longer than
the first two, because they included most of her song, Have I Got a Deal
for You.  They'd written the words to the music of another song that I
couldn't quite place.  A quick glance at Robbie across the table from me
told me that she was having the same problem.

   The clip ended to enthusiastic applause.  I didn't need an applause
meter to know which one of these three plays won.

   The lights came back on and Eddington stepped to the dais again.  "That
last clip was from The Devil's Deal, and that production caused us a lot of
trouble because the judges had a lot of trouble deciding on just three
finalists.  In fact, Colonel Gates left one of the meetings with a black
eye, though Mrs.  Turner swears it was an accident." The Air Force officer
turned to pretend to glare at the dumpy deputy mayor, who slapped her fist
into an open palm while the audience laughed.

   "After much debate, many hurt feelings, and only a little blood, the
judges managed to come up with our final three.  "Can I have a big hand for
the cast of Vlad." Everyone started applauding as the group on the right
stood and waved.  "Vlad was directed by Carl Thompson and written by Valery
Tucker based on the novel by Bram Stoker." Two of the boys lifted one of
the girls onto a chair.  She turned red but managed to keep waving.

   "Can we have another big hand for the cast of Mirror, Mirror," Eddington
said after the Vlad crew finally sat.  The applause started again as the
group on our other side stood.  "Mirror, Mirror was directed by Marie Chase
and written by Manuel Sicata and Marie Chase from a story by Agatha
Christie." One boy held her hand as a girl stood on a chair and took a bow.
I wondered if the boy was Manuel.  He looked more like a Lief or a Lars. 
"Unfortunately, Manuel Sicata couldn't be with us this evening."

   I found out later that the Immigration Service had suggested that his
parents go back to Costa Rica, and Manuel and the rest of his family went
with him.

   The group from Mirror, Mirror milked the applause for almost five
minutes.  Robbie rapped the table, and we all looked at her.  "Thirty
seconds," she whispered.  We all nodded.

   "Finally, our third finalist.  Can we get another big hand for the cast
of Zoe's Song." We stood and waved.  "Zoe's Song was directed by Robbie
Tate and written by Tony Sims from a story idea by Michelle Temple." Since
our table was just for the cast, Mikee was sitting with her parents.  I was
watching her as Eddington made his announcement, and she turned pink.  I
nodded to her dad, and he stood, picked her up, and put her on her chair.
The laughter turned her pink darker to red, but she deserved the applause.
After about thirty seconds, we sat down, taking the audience by surprise.

   It took Eddington by surprise, too.  He'd been talking to the army
officer with his back turned when the applause died out.  "Our three
finalists," he said opening his arms to take us all in as he stepped back
to the dais.  "Here's a look at why our judges had so much trouble."

   The light dimmed again and the screen lit up with a scene from Vlad. 
This clip was longer than the others.  It ran about five minutes and
featured several scenes, including my favorite, a scene where Dracula was
talking to and caressing several of the female vampires.  The kid who
played Dracula was good.  Dracula has been played in the movies by Bela
Lugosi and Christopher Lee and everyone in between including George
Hamilton and Leslie Nielsen.  The kid was closer to Lugosi than Lee, Lee
being my favorite.

   The end brought more applause, and the Vlad cast again stood, waved and
took bows.

   The screen came to life a fifth time with a middle-aged woman looking
curiously around an English drawing room before a butler entered.  The
makeup was great because I had no idea which of the teenagers at the other
table could have been this middle-aged woman.  From the scenes we saw, I
was sorry that we hadn't been able to come back last weekend to see the
play.

   Tami must have sensed what I was thinking because she whispered,
"They're sending us tapes of the other five plays when they send ours."

   I nodded thinking that I'd really enjoy Mirror, Mirror and The Devil's
Deal.  I'd seen Vlad, might watch Hamlet if I was really bored, and The
Glass Menagerie would make a good paperweight.

   The Mirror, Mirror cast were still taking bows when the screen came to
life again with Traci singing Too Many Feelings.  After a minute it
transitioned into the final scene after Zoe had died.  "She'd still be
alive if you hadn't interfered," Robbie accused.  "My baby would be alive,
she'd be here.  We'd be here." The camera had gone tight on Robbie's face
and you could almost see the anguish of a mother who'd just lost her child.

   The camera panned out, taking in the whole set as Peter dropped his head
for a long pause, then the camera moved in again, framing just Peter and
Susie as her hand moved forward and found his.  The camera tightened still
until just their hands filled the screen, and she gave him a squeeze.  Then
the camera moved out again as Peter said, "But she wasn't alive.  She was
existing..."

   The screen faded, and the applause started.  "Sit!" Robbie said as she
lifted her arm and waved.  We kept sitting and waved for several seconds.

   Eddington took his place again.  "Now you've seen a small part of them
and may understand our problem.  And if you thought it was hard whittling
the six down to four, then to three, now it really got fun.  Picking a
winner.  We had the riot squad on standby as the judges went into the room,
only to come out deadlocked several hours later.  It took five tries to
finally settle third place, and several of the judges still aren't talking
to the others.

   "Ladies and Gentlemen, the second runner-up, winning one thousand
dollars for themselves and their school..." he paused, took a breath,
"Vlad!"

   We stood applauding, so did the group from Mirror, Mirror as the Vlad
cast walked up to the podium.  Eddington handed them a plaque and two
checks, which they waved around.  Then one of the boys stepped to the
microphone.  "Thanks.  We really appreciate this.  Sometimes we thought
we'd never get this whole thing on a stage, let alone take third in the
state." He hesitated, started to add something, then changed his mind.  He
waved again, then led his troop back to their table.

   "When we got down to two, things got really serious," Eddington
continued.  "I saw judges going into the room with brass knuckles, saps,
and knives.  But finally Colonel Gates brought me the final results. 
Ladies and Gentlemen, the runner-up, winning two thousand dollars ... 
Zoe's Song!"

   I sighed.  I was getting real tired of second place.  I looked at Robbie
wondering where I could get a tranquilizer gun on short notice and was
amazed that she was smiling.  I mean really smiling.  She stood, took a
small bow to the parents, and started toward the podium.  The rest of us
followed.  Eddington handed Robbie a plaque, then Traci a pair of checks.

   Robbie stepped up to the podium.  "Last year, we came in second in our
school's contest.  This year we took second here.  Next year we get it
right." The crowd laughed as she held the plaque above her head.  Then she
nodded to me.

   I stepped forward to the microphone.  "Zoe's Song was our tribute to a
classmate who died last year.  I hope we made her proud."

   I don't remember the rest of the night.  But I remember feeling warm and
good and knowing that Zoe was watching from wherever she was.

   "Is honesty important?"

   "Um, I guess," I mumbled as I watched Jack Bauer crash an SUV into some
kind of culvert.  I never watched 24 when it was broadcast.  I knew with my
schedule, there was no way I'd see 24 episodes in a row.  But a couple
weeks ago, Mom had bought the first three seasons on DVD, and now I was on
the 24th hour of the second season.  And damn, I was hooked.

   Trace shifted her weight from foot to foot as I focused on the screen.
Jack and Mrs.  Palmer hijacked a good Samaritan's car and took off. 
Imagine calling the cops and reporting being carjacked by the president's
ex-wife.  Traci sighed and walked back to her room.

   The scene shifted to the CTU and ...  and Traci's tone penetrated.  I
paused the DVD and sat back in Dad's chair to think about it.  Traci hadn't
been asking an idle question.  And it wasn't for school.  'Is honesty
important?' Traci had something she was trying to decide if she wanted to
tell.  And I ignored her for a television show.

   I got up and drained my Coke can.  I walked through the kitchen to toss
it on the way to Traci's room.  Her door was open about six inches, so I
gave it a push.  Traci was standing in the middle of her floor pulling a
t-shirt on.  The blouse she'd been wearing was lying on the bed.  She'd
been dressed up for church with Peter and his family.  They went about once
a month.

   I admired her breasts for a second.  They'd grown a lot in the last
year. They were probably bigger than Tami's, and she was only an eighth
grader, though she had a ways to go to catch Darlene.  Or Cousin Cinnamon.

   "Yeah?" she asked, noticing my presence without a trace of
embarrassment.

   I smiled.  "Yes, no, and maybe." I gave her a half bow, shut her door,
and returned to the living room by way of the kitchen, snagging a
replacement Coke.  I settled in Dad's chair, but didn't start the DVD
again.

   Traci stomped out.  "What the hell kind of answer is 'yes, no, and
maybe'?"

   "Language," I said as I opened the Coke and took a sip.

   Traci turned pink but repeated her question without the adjective.

   "It's the only answer I've got to a question like that.  Yes, honesty is
important if you're in court and sworn to tell it.  No, honesty isn't
important if your best friend has been crying and her makeup is running and
she asks if she looks okay.  And maybe, the rest of the time."

   Traci didn't look satisfied.

   "I happen to think honesty is pretty important and try to tell the truth
all the time, but if Tami is wearing that purple shirt of hers and asks if
it looks good, the truth goes bye bye, 'cause I think it's ugly but it's
one of her favorites."

   "It is pretty bad," Traci said with a grin.

   I nodded.  "Tami's easy.  Instead of lying, I can usually tell her that
something isn't my story to tell or that it's temporally inconvenient, and
she drops it."

   Traci grinned even bigger.  "The word, my English professor brother, is
temporarily," she said with deep satisfaction.

   A nice brother would have let her have the point.  "The word, my cute
but naive little sister, is temporally.  From 'temporal, ' which is Latin
for time.  Temporally inconvenient, something I can't talk about right
now."

   "Do you ever get tired of being right?"

   I shrugged.  "It's a burden sometimes."

   Traci stomped her right foot, spun, and started stomping away.

   "Can I ask what your question was about?"

   Traci stopped and stood still for several seconds.  "I was trying to
decide about telling Peter something," she said without turning.  "Several
somethings."

   "You're definitely in maybe territory there."

   She turned and nodded.

   I had a feeling I knew where this was going.  "Has he asked?"

   She shook her head.

   "Silence can be very honest."

   She considered that, but I could tell it didn't satisfy her.

   "Can I tell you a story?"

   Traci nodded, moving to stand next to my chair.

   I reached up and pulled her down across my lap.  "Once upon a time,
there was a brave, handsome, and very clever prince, who just happened to
be at the top of his class."

   "By three thousandths of a point."

   I nodded.  "Which, by the way, is two thousandths more than I needed."

   Traci stuck her tongue out at me.

   "Before he was the wise and wonderful person he is, he was once the
lowest form of life known to man, an eighth grader."

   "Listen here, you..."

   I put my finger across her lips to silence her.

   "It is a condition that almost everybody goes through and outgrows. 
Well, maybe not your friend Bridgett."

   Traci giggled.  Bridgett was the twenty-first century poster child for
dumb blonde.  How she made it to the eighth grade was a congressional
investigation waiting to happen.

   "The prince as an eighth grader had a beautiful princess named Tamarone.
Princess Tamarone had sexy long brown hair that the prince loved to stroke.
He and the princess were madly in love."

   "Sickeningly in love," Traci modified.

   "One day, on a long bus trip without her, he gave in to temptation and
kissed another princess.  This one had long red hair, and the prince had
always had a thing for redheads."

   Traci grinned.  "Is that why you watch Kim Possible almost every night?"

   I grinned back.  "The prince also had a secret cheerleader fetish."

   "Not so secret."

   "Anyway, almost as soon as the prince returned to his princess, he
confessed his indiscretion, even though he knew that the truth might hurt
Princess Tamarone, or possible drive a wedge between them.  Even though he
knew that silence would be enough, that the princess wouldn't ask."

   "Why?"

   "That's a hell of a good question."

   "Language," she admonished with a giggle.

   "That's a good question," I corrected.  "It just seemed like the right
thing to do."

   "Was she mad?" Traci asked, cocking her head.

   "Not really, but Tami's and my relationship has always been a little
different."

   "You can say that again."

   "Tami's and my relationship has always been a little different."

   "Pickledick."

   "That's it.  No more cousins for you."

   Traci grinned.

   "Did that help at all?  Did it answer your question?"

   "I guess," she said crawling off my lap.  She took two or three steps
then stopped.  "Should I tell him?"

   "Does it seem like the right thing to do?"

   She hesitated.  "Yeah ...  I think it does."

   "Any more questions?"

   She shook her head without looking at me and retreated to the back.

   I smiled to myself, wondering if her confessions about the other boys in
her life would include Robbie.
   So much for a nice quiet Sunday to finish the weekend.