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 16

   Monday night I got home about six.  It was kind of nice.  With football
and the play done for the year, all I had to worry about was school and
gymnastics.  It was almost like having free time.  I parked in front of the
trailer and then walked Tami to her house, with Kelly beside us heading for
her own.

   "Good practice," I said, swatting my favorite munchkin on the butt as
Tami and I stopped in front of her house.

   "I don't think Cheyenne thought so," Kelly giggled.

   "Go!" I said, pointing at Kelly's house.  Kelly giggled again and
skipped to her back door, waved, and disappeared.

   "I think she's right." Tami said.

   "I know she's right, but right now I want to think about kissing the
future Mrs.  Sims, not a spoiled brat."

   Cheyenne had told me at the beginning of practice that she wanted to
work on her double back flip.  I knew she'd been working it at the club and
almost had it to the point where Gary was thinking of letting her compete
it.  But I told her no and explained that I wasn't good enough to spot it
yet and that our floor wasn't as good as the club's.

   Half-an-hour later I saw her do one by herself.  She over-rotated the
landing and fell back on her butt, finishing with a backward roll.  I
screamed her name from clear across the gym, then sat her on a stack of
mats and kept her there the whole practice.  She'd scared the hell out of
me.

   "What are you going to do about her?" Tami asked.

   "You weren't listening.  Right now I want to think about kissing the
future Mrs.  Sims, not a spoiled brat." I sealed my point by kissing Tami
long and hard.

   "Tony, you had a call," Mom said from the kitchen as I walked in.

   "Actually, you had seven calls," Dad corrected from behind a newspaper.

   "Seven?" Why hadn't they called me on my cell?  Then I realized that I'd
left it on my dresser this morning.

   Just then the phone rang.

   "I'll get it," Traci yelled from her room.  By almost knocking me down,
she got it before the second ring had completely died.  "Sims residence. 
Oh, he's here." She handed the phone to me.  "It's for you," she said in a
disappointed voice.

   "Toneijrdglhguvndgeruhg iunbtruinbrtnbiotrnstrio."

   I looked at the phone.  I wondered if I needed one of the scrambler
gadgets that spies fixed on their phones.  I was pretty sure the first
syllable-and-a-half was my name, but after that...

   "Once more in English," I suggested.

   "Tony, it's me, Ijsdgekrglrgvnrelavubsrlanbvbvn."

   Progress.  It's me.  "Hailey?"

   "Hey!  I, like, said it was me!"

   "Now try the rest, separating everything into individual words."

   "Pickledick."

   "Now that I heard."

   "Where have you been?  I've so been, like, calling and calling."

   "School and gymnastics practice."

   "Hey!  I got an A.  Like, almost an A.  An A-minus.  Ninety-four
percent."

   "I'm very disappointed young lady.  I expected at least one hundred."

   Hailey giggled.  "But I'm, like, so gonna pass history!"

   "This time."

   "Hey!"

   "Whitney Gwyneth, I don't expect you to become Super Student.  Hell, I
don't even want you to.  But maybe we could learn a little about
priorities."

   "Maybe."

   "So what did you miss?"

   "I kinda got it right, but Mrs.  Cleaver didn't like your answer about
the Gobi."

   The Gobi?  When had I mentioned the giant Chinese desert.  "You mean the
Golan?  The Golan Heights?"

   "Yeah."

   "If you called it the Gobi, I can understand why."

   "Hey!  I didn't.  Like, I don't think I did."

   "Check your paper.  If you didn't, get her e-mail and I'll argue the
point with her.  I figure you need every point you can get."

   "Hey!  Was that, like, a diss?"

   "Yep.  Want to talk to Trace?"

   "Okay."

   "Just for a minute.  Dinner's almost ready." I cupped my hand over the
phone.  "Traci!" I yelled.  "Telephone." I lifted the phone up again.  "
Don't teach her any more words," I added to Hailey as an afterthought.

   "If I got an intercom, would you use it?" Mom asked, setting a pot on
the dining room table.

   "Nope, yelling is more fun.  Efficient too," I said, handing the phone
to my sister.

   Mom shook her head and retreated to the kitchen.

   "I take it your cousin did well on her history final?" Dad asked from
behind his paper.

   "Yep," I said with a smile he couldn't see.  "Ninety-four.  We figured
she needed at least a high sixty to a low seventy."

   "Good, I'm glad.  That was a good thing you did."

   "Thanks."

   Dad closed and folded his paper.  "By the way, just for the record, I
really don't like being used."

   "Uh, used?"

   "But, Dad, Tami volunteered me to tutor her," dad mimicked.

   "Oh, yeah, I..."

   "Remember the Steve Martin movie, Sergeant Bilko?"

   I nodded.

   "The original with Phil Silvers was better, but just remember, you ain't
that good."

   "Yes, sir," I said nodding.

   "But still, it was a good thing you did.  We should raise your
allowance," he said just as Traci walked back in to hang up the phone. 
"We'll double it."

   "Don't be stingy dear," Mom said, placing a plate of rolls on the table.
"Triple it."

   "Now wait a minute," Traci protested before she remembered that I hadn't
gotten an allowance since I'd started working.  "I say we quadruple it."

   The next day, Cheyenne didn't come out of the locker room with the other
girls.  I have to admit that I was kind of relieved.  Maybe she was taking
the day off.  I watched as Kelly started stretching the other girls.  It
was a pretty good group, but I kinda missed last year's smaller, more
intimate one.

   "Is he the one?" I heard behind me as I instructed Kelly to really work
their backs.  I turned.  Cheyenne in her leotard was standing next to man
about my dad's age, probably her dad.  'I don't need this, ' I thought. 
"Cheyenne, you're late.  Get stretching.  Make sure you work your wrists
and ankles." I turned back to the girls.

   "Tony Sims?" the man said a few seconds later.

   "I'm Tony," I acknowledged without turning around.

   "Could I see you?" he asked as I moved over to Cassie Williams to adjust
her leg on her splits.

   "I'm a little busy," I said, standing and moving back again.

   "Young man!  I'm not used to being kept waiting."

   I counted to ten in English, Spanish and German, considering whether to
answer him 'Old man, I couldn't care less what you're used to.' I decided
to be good.  I counted to ten in French, Russian and Afrikaans for good
measure.  "Tami!" I yelled.  She was standing by the beam, talking with
Miss Calloway.  I nodded my head, and she walked over.  "Could you watch
them?"

   She glanced at Cheyenne and her dad, then nodded.

   "Can I help you?" I asked pleasantly as I walked over, ignoring the fact
that Cheyenne hadn't started stretching like she'd been told.

   "I'm John Morris, Cheyenne's dad."

   "Nice to meet you," I said, offering my hand which he ignored.

   "Cheyenne tells me that you haven't been treating her very well."

   'I treat her as well as any brat' is what I wanted to say.  But I knew
if I wanted to coach, I had to get used to dealing with parents.  Might as
well start now.  "I'm sorry to hear that."

   "She said that yesterday you made her sit in the corner for the whole
practice."

   "Not a corner.  That stack of mats there." I pointed to some accordion
matts stacked in the center of a wall.  "And it was about ninety minutes,
not all practice."

   "You think this is a joke?" he asked.

   "Not really," I said, looking back at the girls as they finished
stretching and started toward their events.

   "I'm talking to you," he reminded me.

   "And I'm a little busy.  Can you come back after practice?"

   "Listen here, boy..."

   "No, you listen, old man." Okay, I'll practice dealing with parents next
week.  "I gave Cheyenne an instruction.  She didn't follow it.  She got sat
down.  Now I've got a team to coach.  If Cheyenne wants to participate,
she'll get her ass on the mat and start stretching.  If she doesn't, you're
both in the way."

   I turned my back on him and started walking toward the bars.

   "Problem?" Miss Calloway asked a few minutes later.  Cheyenne and her
father had left.

   "It's what I do," I said with a grin.

   It was twenty minutes later when Cheyenne and her dad came back with Mr.
Hallowell.

   "Tony, can I see you a minute?" he yelled.

   I sighed and held up one finger to him, then looked back at Kelly on the
beam.  "Go."

   She took a deep breath and did three back handsprings in row, finishing
with a big wobble.  "You're dropping your left shoulder as you step out of
the third one."

   She nodded.

   I walked over to Mr.  Hollowell offering him my hand as I got there.  He
shook it.  I didn't bother offering it to Mr.  Morris.  Miss Calloway came
over too, nodding to her principal.

   "Mr.  Morris says you were extremely rude to him," Mr.  Hollowell
started.

   "I probably was," I admitted.  "Mr.  Morris didn't understand, and
obviously still doesn't, that these girls only have two hours, and he isn't
more important than they are."

   "I didn't say that.  This kid..."

   "I asked him if we could talk after practice, but apparently he doesn't
care about any girl but Cheyenne."

   Morris turned red.  "That's not..."

   "Here at five-thirty," Hollowell interrupted.

   "Works for me," I said and went back to the beam.  From the corner of my
eye I could see Morris fuming.  Cheyenne walked onto the floor mat and did
a back handspring.  "Cheyenne!  Stretch first," I yelled.

   Morris's mouth opened, but Hollowell must have said something because it
closed and the two men walked away.

   It was a good practice, though Cheyenne was ignoring me so hard that I
almost laughed a couple times.  Mr.  Hollowell and Morris came back about
five-fifteen and watched.  At five-twenty I started the girls on
conditioning, took a deep breath, and walked over.

   "What can I do for you?" I asked.

   "I thought you were all tied up until after practice," Morris said
sarcastically.

   "They're doing conditioning.  I told Kelly what I wanted.  She'll take
care of it."

   "Your pet, I understand," Morris said.

   "I like Kelly a lot," I said smiling.  "She lives in my trailer park. 
I've known her forever.  But she's running conditioning because the other
girls elected her captain."

   "Is that a problem?" Miss Calloway asked as she walked up.

   "No, but..." Morris hesitated.  "It seems like this kid runs practice
more than you do," he said finally.

   "It probably does.  It seemed like he ran his eighth grade baseball
team, too," Miss Calloway said with a grin at Mr.  Hollowell.  He winked at
her.  "At this point he knows more about it than I do.  He's been working
with Gary at the club over a year.  And he's a natural coach."

   I nodded my appreciation for the remark.

   "Is that what this is about?  That he takes charge?" she asked.

   "No, it's about him making Cheyenne sit out yesterday."

   "Why?" Miss Calloway asked me.

   "You didn't even know about it?" Morris said in astonishment.

   Miss Calloway looked at him coldly.  "Mr.  Morris, these are middle
school girls.  Twelve, thirteen, and fourteen.  Sometimes they need to be
punished.  Tony, Tami, even Stephy and I hand out laps, sit-ups, or
time-outs all the time.  We usually don't bother discussing it."

   "But he made her sit out the entire practice."

   "Why?" she asked, and I explained about the double back.  Miss Calloway
looked back at Morris.  "She's lucky.  I would have sent her home."

   Cheyenne, standing next to her dad, lost her color.

   "For the week," Miss Calloway added.

   "I just want to understand," Mr.  Hollowell said.  "Tony, if she's
almost got the trick, why not let her do it?"

   "Because she's ALMOST got it.  She's been working them at the club with
Gary or Justin spotting her.  I'm not that good.  I've spotted a few double
back working with Megan Cressey.  She's a level nine and can do them
whether I spot right or not.  Plus, the floor at the club is a lot better
than this one.  More spring on the takeoff and more give on the landing. 
She's got a lot of talent, but I didn't think it was safe." I noticed that
the girls had finished their stretching, but nobody left.  They all sat on
the mat, pretending not to listen.

   "I understand," Mr.  Hollowell said.

   "I just don't think high school kids as coaches is a good idea," Morris
said.

   "I don't think this team would have done nearly as well as they did last
year without Tony.  And it's getting big enough that I know I can't handle
it by myself this year," Miss Calloway said.

   "I don't think it's a good idea," Morris said as if that settled it.

   "If you fire my brother, I'll quit," Traci said.  "That'll make the team
smaller." She stood and came over and hugged me.

   "I'll quit too," Kelly said.

   "Me, too," Susie added, then every single one of the others chimed in,
too.

   "No ones getting fired," Mr.  Hollowell said, "And no ones quitting." He
pointed to the locker room, and the girls scampered away.  "Mr.  Morris, as
Miss Calloway reminded me, Tony coached the eighth grade baseball team when
he was only an eighth grader himself, mostly while I stood around and
watched.  He IS an outstanding natural coach.  As principal, I am very
happy that he has volunteered all this time to work with our girls

   "If you feel that high school students coaching other grades is a
problem, you can take it up with the school board, most of whom already
know Tony.  As for Cheyenne's punishment yesterday, it seems to me that
Tony let her off too easy, but her punishment is his problem, and if he's
satisfied, I am.  But safety is the most important thing here, and if she
tries something like that again, I'll drop her from the team myself.  I
will not allow any of these girls to disobey orders and turn herself into a
quadriplegic."

   Morris looked stunned.

   "Anything more?" Mr.  Hollowell asked.

   Morris shook his head.

   "Then we're done here."

   "Cheyenne," I said before she and her dad could leave.  She looked up.
"We need you.  On time tomorrow?"

   She looked surprised but nodded.

   "Keep working your double with Gary," I said with a smile.  "You've
almost got it.  The one you did yesterday was awesome."



   Chapter 17

   "TONY SIMS.  PLEASE COME TO THE OFFICE."

   I looked at Tami, and she shrugged.  Robbie, on my other side, was no
better help.  Then I looked at Mrs.  Conners.  She was looking at me.

   "I have a topic," I said with a big smile.  "Resolved: Teenagers and
debate teachers are prone to auditory hallucinations, but should learn to
ignore them."

   Mrs.  Conners smiled but inclined her head to the door.

   I sighed, picked up my books, and left, wondering which of my past
indiscretions was coming back to haunt me now.  I was just passing my
locker when the final bell rang, and that meant speed round was starting.
And this semester Mrs.  Conners was getting tough.  Well, tougher.  She was
docking points for every "uh," "ah," or other unnecessary pause.

   I stepped into the office.  Melissa Bates, a senior I knew to say hi to,
was standing behind the counter, buffing her nails and reading a magazine.
Mr.  Reed was sitting on the extra desk, chatting with Mrs.  Hatcher.  I
walked up to the counter.  "Hi, folks."

   "Tony, you have a phone call," Mrs.  Hatcher said.  I raised an eyebrow.
"It's Mr.  Hollowell at the middle school." She pointed at the phone on her
desk.

   "Thank you," I said as I came around the counter.  Damn.  I guessed the
Morris business hadn't gone away.  The pickledick had probably gone to
Butz. I realized that I'd thought of Morris as pickledick and decided no
more cousins for me, either.  They were contagious.

   "Hi, this is Tony."

   "Tony, this is Mr.  Hollowell.  We have a problem."

   "Mr.  Morris," I sighed.

   "No, I haven't heard anything more from him and don't expect to."

   "Then..."

   "Traci got in a fight."

   "SHE DID WHAT?" I realized that six eyeballs were locked on me, but I
ignored them.

   "She got in a fight.  I've tried your house and your mom's and dad's
offices, but I can't reach them."

   "Mom's in Portland and Dad's in Olympia.  I've kind of got the duty
right now.  I'll be there in five."

   I hung up the phone and looked at Mr.  Reed.  "Traci's in trouble, and I
need to go over there.  She..."

   He smiled.  "Go."

   "I'll take care of signing you out," Mrs.  Hatcher said.

   I started around the counter.

   "Tony." I looked back at Mr.  Reed.  "Ever hear of the mother's curse?"

   Mother's curse?  Oh.  "May you have a kid just like you?"

   "That's the one," he said, smiling.

   I waited.  There had to be more.

   "Your mother's curse must be especially strong.  It's starting early."

   His damn smile had become a grin, so I stuck my tongue out at him and
stuck my thumbs in my ears and wiggled my fingers for good measure.

   'It's been an interesting week, ' I thought as I drove to the middle
school.  Monday, Cheyenne tries to give me heart attack doing a double by
herself.  Yesterday, Morris tries to get me fired from coaching.  And
today, little Traci gets in a fight.  Tomorrow was an away meet, and I
didn't even want to think what was going to happen there.

   Mr.  Hollowell was in the office when I walked in.  He was talking to a
secretary I didn't know.  She was new this year, and if Traci had mentioned
her name, I'd forgotten it.  I nodded.  "Can I talk to Traci for a minute?"

   "She's in Mr.  Banks' room.  It's empty this period," Mr.  Hollowell
said with a nod.

   Mr.  Banks had the classroom next to the office.  I went in.  Traci was
sitting in a straight chair under the front whiteboard, looking miserable.
I walked to the front of the classroom, took a seat in Mr.  Banks' chair,
and looked at her.  She looked back for a few seconds, then felt the need
to inspect her shoelaces.

   "Want to tell me about it?"

   "No."

   I watched her for a minute as she checked out her shoes, then the door,
then the window where a light rain was beating.  "Okay," I said, stood, and
pushed Mr.  Banks' chair back under his desk.

   "Tony?" she said quietly when I was halfway to the door.

   I turned and looked at her.

   "Are you mad?"

   "Should I be?"

   She stood up, then changed her mind and sat back down.  She was looking
towards me, but not at me.  "It's just ...  Well, Mom left you in charge,
then I go and..."

   "Trace, one fight in thirteen years doesn't exactly make you a
gangbanger."

   "It's ...  uh ...  kinda not the first."

   "It isn't?"

   "I kinda got in a brawl with Torrie Wachman in the sixth grade and got
suspended for three days."

   "You did?" Where was I?

   "And Beth Middleston in fourth.  I asked Mom not to tell you, and we
kept it a secret."

   "A good secret." My sister the gangbanger.

   "Are you mad?"

   "Do you want to tell me about it?"

   "Later."

   "Okay.  Before I try to talk Mr.  Hollowell out of suspending you for a
week, is there anything else I should know?  Smoking?  Cheating scandals?
Gun running?"

   Traci shook her head.

   I smiled.  "I'm not mad.  But I wish Dad hadn't told me last week that
I'm not as good as Sergeant Bilko."

   "Huh?"

   "Have you got one of those big paddle boards with the round holes in it?
Mom and Dad put me in charge of her.  I can authorize a public spanking. 
We'll call an assembly before school gets over."

   Mr.  Hollowell smiled.  "Tony, stop trying to play me.  And for the
record, I took psych in college and know all about reverse psychology."

   I grinned.  "Force of habit."

   "When does your mother come back?  I'll need to talk to her.  And Traci
will be suspended for a week."

   "Dad comes back Friday evening.  Mom thinks she'll be here Saturday
afternoon.  But you don't need to talk to her, she left me in charge.  I'll
handle it."

   "She may have left you in charge, but I doubt she expected anything like
this."

   "Trace has been in three fights in eight years of school.  Mom handled
the first two.  Maybe I can do a better job."

   Mr.  Hollowell looked surprised.  "I really have to..."

   "You have to speak to a student's parent or guardian.  Mom put me in
charge.  That makes me the loco parent."

   "It's called in loco parentis.  It..." Mr.  Hollowell saw my grin and
stopped.  "Tony, this is serious."

   "And Traci WILL know that.  I promise."

   "Are you just trying to keep her out of trouble with your parents?"

   "That and a little blackmail.  You never know when you'll need some
leverage with a little sister." Mr.  Hollowell opened his mouth, but I held
my hand up.  "Sir, I don't like fighting.  That's why I always tried to
avoid them and almost always succeeded.  I guess Trace's had two other
fights.  I don't know the details, but Mom dealt with them, and it didn't
stick.  I can come at her from two angles.  I'm in charge, and she knows
and accepts that.  But I'm also a peer.  I'm just a few years older."

   Mr.  Hollowell nodded.

   "And trust me, she won't enjoy her one-day suspension."

   "I said a week."

   "Did you?  I must have misheard.  I figured one day was enough to get
the message across, and since she's been a good student the last couple
years..."

   Mr.  Hollowell sighed.

   "Did Traci start it?"

   "Uh ...  I got different stories from the witnesses.  Jaime says Traci
started it, and Traci declined to comment." I didn't remember Traci
mentioning a girl named Jaime she was having trouble with.

   "If you need to know, I can get Traci to tell me, but otherwise we can
call it mutual combat and let it go with a pair of one-day suspensions."

   Mr.  Hollowell sighed again.  "Planning on law school?"

   "Hell no.  I hate to argue."

   "I'm not sure that Jaime's parents will be happy about Traci only
getting a one day suspension.  He lost..."

   "He?  Jaime's a guy?"

   Mr.  Hollowell nodded.  "You didn't know?"

   "Nobody said."

   "Anyway, Jaime lost at least one tooth.  His mom has him at the dentist
now.  They may think Traci deserves more than one day."

   "That would mean Jaime gets more than one day too, since we don't know
who started the fight.  You could remind them of that.  AND remind them
that no matter who started it, it takes two to make a fight."

   Mr.  Hollowell smiled.  "I don't think that's what you said when you had
yours."

   "I think I said that Peter threw the first punch.  The first three
punches.  I don't think I ever said that I didn't start it."

   Both Mr.  Hollowell's eyebrows shot up.  "You might also point out that
since Traci will be suspended tomorrow she'll be missing a meet, and that
will punish her a lot."

   Mr.  Hollowell nodded.  "Okay, for the moment we'll call her suspension
one day.  I'll be talking to Jaime's parents after school.  If that changes
anything, I'll let you know."

   "Fair enough," I agreed.  "I'm guessing that her suspension has already
started?" He nodded.  "Is it okay with you if she goes to practice
tonight..." Mr.  Hollowell started to protest but I held my hand up.  "Goes
to practice tonight, but does not participate, and that includes talking to
the team.  It would be easier on me and harder on her than sitting at
home."

   Mr.  Hollowell thought for a moment, then nodded.  "We're agreed?"

   I nodded.  "You're the boss."

   Mr.  Hollowell gently shook his head.  "Sometimes, I think we both
wonder about that."

   The end-of-day bell was ringing as I collected Traci.  We hustled to the
gym.  Miss Calloway was already there, sitting on the same stack of mats
I'd put Cheyenne on and working on her grade book.

   "Tony, you're early," she said as we walked up.

   "I had something to do.  Now, I've got to run back and pick up Tami and
Stephy."

   "Okay."

   "Traci will not be participating today, but she will be watching
silently.  Can you keep an eye on her while I run to the high school.

   Miss Calloway looked surprised.  I guessed she hadn't heard about the
fight yet, but she nodded.

   I pointed, and Traci sat down next to her.  I put my hands on Traci's
shoulders and looked straight at her.  "I am not mad.  But you are being
punished.  Today you will sit here and not say a word.  If you need to go
to the bathroom or anything, you'll raise your hand just like in class. 
When Tami or I or Miss Calloway see you, you may come over and ask.  Do we
understand each other?"

   Traci looked like an embarrassed five-year-old, but she nodded, then I
sprinted for my car.

   We got back just as the girls finished stretching.  Kelly and Suzie
headed for Traci.

   "Ladies!" I yelled.  They all hurried over.  "Some of you may know why,
the rest will hear, but Traci is an untouchable today."

   "You, like, mean chasing bad guys with tommy guns?" Suzie asked.

   "No, I, like, mean the lowest class of person in India.  Untouchables
are ignored.  They are not seen, they are not talked to.  Bad things happen
to girls who don't ignore untouchables."

   "Traci's my friend," Kelly protested.

   "Traci's still your friend.  That's an untouchable.  Traci will be back
on Friday.  Now!  Vaulters line up, everybody else stations," I ordered.  I
think it was the first time I realized that Morris had been right.  I did
run the practices, and Miss Calloway let me.

   About halfway through practice I saw Kelly sneak over to Traci.  I
watched for a minute.  I could see Kelly's mouth moving, but Traci's stayed
shut.  "Kelly, two laps!" I yelled.  "Then beam."

   "Tony, can I talk to you?" Cheyenne asked as practice finished.

   "Sure.  Tami, would you escort the untouchable to the car?" Tami nodded.
"Remember, that no talking thing goes for coaches too." Tami started to
stick her tongue out, changed her mind, stuck her nose in the air, and
walked out with my sister.  I grinned at their backs.

   "What can I do for you Miss Wyoming?" I said turning back to Cheyenne.
The others had all left.

   "Miss Wyoming?"

   "Aren't you the capital?"

   Cheyenne looked disgusted.

   "Sorry, you probably get things like that too much."

   "Yeah."

   "Your tumbling looked real clean today." She hadn't thrown her double,
but she'd tried just about everything else in the book.  "What would you
like?"

   "Uh ...  yesterday I had team at the club after practice here."

   I nodded.

   "Daddy talked to Gary about everything that happened.  The double and
everything."

   "Yeah?"

   "Gary exploded.  He kicked me out of the gym and said he wasn't sure
he'd wanted me back."

   I nodded again.  "Gary runs a good program.  He's big on safety.  I
don't think he's ever had a big injury in the club.  He doesn't want you to
be the first."

   Now Cheyenne nodded.  "He went ballistic on my dad, saying the only
thing you did wrong was not get tough enough on me.  He said a lot of the
same things about safety and injuries."

   I grinned.  "Gary's got a thing about safety, but he's also got a thing
about parents second guessing coaches.  You know, when you did your double
Monday, it was awesome.  You had good height and good rotation, and just
barely over-rotated your landing which made you sit out, and a lot of level
nines and tens who've been doing them for a while do that too.  But when I
looked over and saw you in the air, you scared the hell out of me.  'Cause
if you seriously over- or under-rotated you could have snapped your pretty
little neck."

   "Gary said that too.  I'm sorry."

   "I'll call Gary tonight.  He'll take you back."

   "Why?"

   "Why what?"

   "Why would you call him for me."

   I hesitated, deciding just how blunt I wanted to be.  "Cheyenne, I
really don't like you." Her face clouded.  "You are a major brat who's a
lot more concerned about yourself than anyone around you." I saw a tear
form in the corner of her eye then streak down her cheek.

   "But I think, I hope, you'll outgrow that.  I also think you're very
talented, and I want to see you push yourself as far as you can go."

   She nodded slightly.

   "As long as you push yourself the right way.  Deal?"

   She nodded again.

   "Go home and get some sleep.  You're all-arounding tomorrow, and I want
you rested.

   She nodded, turned, and fled to the locker room as I wondered if I was
going to hear from her dad about that little speech.

   I drove home, sent Traci in the house to start homework, and walked Tami
and Kelly home.  The rain had stopped.  "Kelly, Traci's untouchable until
seven Friday morning," I said when we'd stopped in front of Tami's house.
"I hope you won't disappoint me again."

   "But..."

   "Kelly," I said warningly.

   "You used to be a lot more fun," she muttered as she nodded and walked
to her house.

   "It's okay, I still think you're fun," Tami whispered then kissed me.

   "Tonight, I think you're in the minority."

   Traci was at the dining room table doing homework when I walked in.  I
ignored her and went to the kitchen to figure out dinner.  I thought about
having a steak while giving Traci bread and water, but decided that might
be pushing the point.  Finally I decided on some shrimp scampi over pasta.
I got everything working, then went out and sat across the table from
Traci.

   She looked up.  "You're really not mad?"

   I shrugged.  "Things happen.  Want to tell me what happened?"

   Traci looked hesitant.

   "Before you answer that, I've already decided on punishment.  If you
don't want to answer, it won't make a difference."

   "It just happened."

   "Okay.  First of all, Mr.  Hollowell is suspending you for one day."

   "Only one?" Traci said in surprise.  "It's supposed to be at least three
days for fighting.  Usually a week."

   "Well," I said, buffing my fingernails on my chest.  "I have some
Polaroids of Mr.  Hollowell and Mrs.  Kreiger at the teachers' Christmas
party last year..."

   "Tony!"

   "No, he and I bargained.  We decided that a one day vacation is all you
get."

   Traci looked relieved.

   "It's not going to be a fun day."

   Traci nodded.  "I know.  You're going to tell Mom?" she asked in a
little girl voice.

   "Do you think I should?"

   She sighed.  "I guess you have to."

   "I don't have to do anything.  Do you think I should?"

   Traci hesitated then nodded resignedly.  "I promised I wouldn't get in
any more fights after Torrie Wachman in the sixth grade."

   "I guess your promise wasn't worth much."

   "But Jaime ...  I guess it wasn't.  She'll be so disappointed in me."

   "I'm not going to say anything to Mom or Dad.  And unless you have more
trouble at school, I don't think Mr.  Hollowell will."

   "He won't?"

   I nodded.  "Ready to hear about tomorrow?

   "No ...  I ...  Jaime is such a..."

   "Go ahead, say it," I encouraged.

   "A pickledick."

   I smiled.

   "He just ...  nobody likes him, he's just annoying."

   I nodded again.  "I've known a few guys like that."

   "He's always asking girls out.  Almost no one ever goes with him.  He's
asked me a few times." Traci made a face, and I wished I had a camera with
me to capture it.  "I was hanging with Kelly before sixth period and he
came over.  She just broke up with Mike Hayward...  ?"

   She waited and I nodded, though I hadn't known Kelly was going with the
eighth grade quarterback, let alone had broken up with him.

   "He asked her to the dance at the Elks on Saturday, and I made some kind
of joke, I don't even remember what it was.  He got mad and started saying
some things.  Mostly about the team and how we'd never won a single meet."

   "In his defense, we haven't."

   "I know, but I didn't need that son-of-a-bitch rubbing it in my face. 
Anyway, Kelly and I kind of ignored him.  Then he started on Peter.  So, I
said I'd heard that he and Billy Lorenski, his best friend, had been
getting pretty friendly in the showers after P.E.  He slapped me, and I
decked him."

   "You know, there's really no excuse for fighting.  Unless he was talking
about me of course."

   Traci smiled weakly.

   "But that comes close.  Of course, if you hadn't decked him, knocking
out a tooth, I heard, he'd probably be suspended for a week right now,
instead of a day like you."

   "He's only suspended for a day?  That's not fair."

   "Life's not fair.  Besides, you didn't bother to tell me or Mr. 
Hollowell the story, and I guess the witnesses couldn't decide who started
it."

   "Oh."

   "I understand why it happened, and I don't blame you much, but fighting
in school isn't good."

   "I know."

   "Tonight, you'll be working on homework all night.  If you run out of
assignments, work ahead." Traci nodded.  "Tomorrow, you'll spend ALL day
working around the house and doing homework.  Even when I go to the meet."

   "The meet!  I forgot about the meet."

   "You might as well keep forgetting about it."

   "Can I go and watch?"

   "No." I felt bad about that, but Mr.  Hollowell had been real flexible,
and I didn't want to take advantage.  Not more advantage.

   "Okay."

   "Friday, you start with a clean slate."

   "Okay."

   "It could be a lot worse.  And if it happens again, it will be," I
threatened.

   "You're not a bad brother."

   "And if I had a brother, I'd want him to have a right hook just like
yours."

   Traci grinned, then went back to her homework.

   The clock said three minutes after nine.  I looked over her shoulder as
Traci finished a page of problems from her math book.  "Okay, put it away,"
I said.  I glanced at the sink full of dishes and felt a little guilty, but
the dishes were only one of Traci's chores for tomorrow.

   "I'm going to take a walk with Tami, then it's bedtime." Traci nodded
without enthusiasm.  "Tami and I will probably take thirty minutes." Traci
looked up at me and nodded again.  "You and Peter can have ten."

   "We can?"

   I nodded, trying to suppress a smile.  I remembered when I been grounded
and Mom let me have a few minutes with Tami each night.  I'd decided when I
saw Traci ignore Kelly in the gym.  "If you want to follow Tam and me like
usual, okay.  If you want to go your own way, that's fine too."

   Traci grinned.  "Tomorrow?"

   "We'll see tomorrow."

   We grabbed jackets, and Traci skipped out of the house.  She didn't look
like someone getting punished.

   The next day wasn't a lot of fun.  For either of us.  I took the day
from school and supervised as Traci cleaned the house.  In her and our
parent's bedrooms, I had her take everything out and move furniture, then
shampoo the carpets with a cleaner I rented at Safeway.  In the bathrooms,
she was on her hands and knees scrubbing grout with a toothbrush. 
Yesterday, I wasn't a bad brother.  I didn't think I'd ask her today.

   Her breaks were homework.  Since she'd finished all her assignments
yesterday, mostly I drilled her on her books.

   Just before two, Robbie showed up.

   "What's she doing here?" Traci asked from the chair she was standing on,
dusting the top of the glass-fronted curio cabinet Mom had in the living
room.

   "She's your babysitter."

   "I don't need a..." Traci stopped when I gave her a look.

   "Here's a list of chores." I handed Robbie the list I'd typed up
earlier. "After an hour-and-a-half of cleaning, she gets a half-an-hour
break for homework.  She finished everything that was assigned, so she can
read ahead, or you can drill on what she's already done.  Zero fun."

   Robbie nodded.  "Aye, aye Captain Bligh."

   "That's Admiral Bligh.  I was promoted," I said with a grin, then
escaped to my car before Robbie could come up with a comeback.  I had to
get to the high school and pick up Tami and Stephy, then meet the team to
get on the bus.

   "LADIES!" I yelled after Tami, Stephy, Miss Calloway, and the driver had
gotten off.  The bus got quiet.  All the girls were sitting straight in
their seats, waiting.

   "Ya won one.  What more is there to say?"

   Cheyenne raised her hand, and I nodded to her.  "We could say we wish
Traci were here."

   I don't think the surprise showed on my face.  Maybe she was going to
try.  "And we do.  Go stuff yourselves."

   Kelly jumped up, hugged me, and raced for the door.  Then Suzie hugged
me and followed her.  One by one, all the girls gave me a hug until only
Cheyenne was left.  "I do wish she were here," Cheyenne said as she stood
up.

   "Then maybe I was wrong."

   "Maybe you weren't.  Gary called me last night.  I can come back to
practice tomorrow."

   "Good."

   Cheyenne looked at me as if trying to figure me out.  Then she grabbed
me in a quick hug and vanished out the bus door.

   Win one little meet and they get all emotional on you.

   "How'd it go?"

   Robbie was reading in Dad's chair when I got home just before eleven.

   Robbie closed her book.  "Fine.  She's asleep.  She finished your list.
How'd the team do?"

   "We finally won one.  So how many games of cribbage did you play?"

   Robbie turned red.  "Just a couple.  For her arithmetic skills."

   "Un huh."

   "See if I babysit for you again," she said indignantly.

   "How many did she win?"

   Robbie looked away.  "Three out of five."

   "As long as she didn't have fun beating you."

   "God, I hate you sometimes."

   "Tami says that a lot.  Maybe you two should compare notes.  Did Traci
get her walk with Peter?"

   "She did.  You're not Captain Bligh, you're the captain of the Good Ship
Lollipop."

   "Nah.  I would have slapped that Shirley Temple brat clean off the
boat."

   Robbie shook her head, kissed me, and left.

   Traci had told me she only had one class with Jaime.  Second period. 
I'd told her that at the beginning of class she'd ask the teacher, then
stand in front of the class and apologize to Jaime for knocking him on his
butt and knocking a tooth out.  In those words.  Traci would be
embarrassed, and that was part of her punishment, but I'd bet my college
fund that Jaime would be more embarrassed.

   'All in all, a not unsuccessful suspension, ' I decided as I headed for
bed.



   Chapter 18

   Mom got home Saturday afternoon and immediately collapsed in Dad's
chair.

   "Long day?" Dad asked.

   "Long four days.  Sometimes I'm sorry I took that promotion."

   "Tell you what ...  Dad, if you'll make a store run for me, I'll cook a
dinner to revive any tired mother."

   "Deal," Mom said before Dad could have an opinion.

   I wrote out a quick shopping list.  "Why don't you take the brat.  She
needs to get out."

   Dad hesitated.

   "Maybe you could buy her an ice cream, do some of that father-daughter
bonding stuff."

   The look Dad gave me was not entirely trusting.

   "Mom, I've got something I think you'll appreciate," I said after Dad
and Trace had left.  I went to my room and got Bill O'Reilly's new book.  I
brought it out and handed it to her.

   "It's book marked," I said as I retreated to the kitchen to start
preparations.  I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Tami.  "I"m
doing the gourmet thing for Mom.  She just got home and she's tired.  Want
to join us?  Your mom too."

   Tami laughed.  "Your idea of gourmet is a steak cooked medium rare."

   "And your point?"

   Tami laughed again.  "I'll ask and call you back."

   I went back into the living room.  Mom was staring at the pink paper I'd
used as a bookmark.

   "Oops.  You're not supposed to see that." I said, snatching it out of
her hand and stuffing it in my pocket.

   "Tony!"

   "No comment."

   "Tony!" she said again.  I stood mute.  "Your sister got in a fight and
got suspended?"

   "No comment."

   Mom stared at me, and it wasn't pleasant.  "But she only got suspended
for one day?

   "No comment."

   "You talked to Mr.  Hollowell?"

   "No comment."

   "Somehow you talked Mr.  Hollowell into one day instead of three or
four. The living rooms spotless.  Traci did this?"

   "No comment."

   Mom kept putting the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle.  "One day, so
the other girl is okay."

   I figured that needed some clarification.  "Oh, boy!  I can't wait for
dinner."

   "A boy!  Traci got in a fight with a boy?"

   "No comment."

   "He's okay?"

   "I heard the only injuries at Trace's school Wednesday were a loose
tooth and some manly pride."

   Mom nodded.  "And you promised you wouldn't tell?"

   "No comment."

   "And just happened to leave her suspension form in your book?"

   "It was handy."

   "You are a sneaky so-and-so," Mom said after she'd stared at me for two
minutes.

   I grinned.  "No comment."

   "You obviously think Traci's been punished and I should ignore this."

   I started to say 'No comment, ' but Mom raised her index finger in my
direction and I took the hint.

   "Is she going to tell me about this?"

   "She's a good kid." Which I hope Mom translated as fifty-fifty.

   Mom picked up the book in her lap and started reading.  "This dinner
better be damned good," she said threateningly.

   "No comment," I said as I retreated to the kitchen.

   My life is complicated, but sometimes it works.

   I was sitting in Dad's chair, exhausted.  Mentally exhausted.  There was
a Scooby-Doo cartoon on the screen in front of me, and that was too much to
concentrate on.  Robbie, Tami and I had been debating welfare.

   It started at Robbie's house.  We'd been playing three-handed pinochle
with Fox News on the television in the background.  A nice easy Sunday
after dealing with Traci's suspension and everything else.

   There was a story on about a single welfare mother with five kids who
won twelve million dollars in the lottery.

   "It's nice that she won that money," Tami said.

   "It's a waste," Robbie commented.  "She'll probably blow it in a couple
years and be back on welfare."

   "Twelve million dollars?" Tami asked in surprise."

   "Twelve million dollars," Robbie agreed.  "She should at least have to
pay back all the welfare she's gotten."

   My first mistake was having an opinion.  My second was talking.  "What's
really wrong is a welfare mother with five kids.  If she's on welfare and
has a baby, the state should offer to have her tubes tied.  If she has a
second, they should throw her off welfare and let her starve."

   "Tony!" both girls said together.

   "Who are you, Adolf Hitler?" Robbie said.  "Forced sterilization."

   "First of all, I wouldn't force anybody.  But if someone can't even take
care of herself, she has no business bringing a baby into the world.  But
accidents happen.  After the first 'accident' I would give them the option
of having their tubes tied and I'd make sure they understood the
consequences if they didn't.  Second accident, and they're on their own."

   "I can't believe you'd be so heartless," Tami said.  "A little baby..."

   "I said the mother would be in the street.  The kids would be taken care
of.  Orphanages may not be wonderful, but I think in some cases the kids
would be better off."

   "Tony!"

   "I notice you put it all on the woman," Robbie said dryly.

   "Not at all.  But the woman is easier to identify.  If you can track the
father, the same deal should apply.  First baby, vasectomy.  Second baby,
off the welfare roles.  And as long as I'm being heartless, I'd grab the
dough too.  If a welfare recipient wins the lottery, the welfare department
should grab it all, because they had no business playing it in the first
place.

   It went downhill from there.  Debating Robbie is never easy.  Say the
right thing the wrong way and she'd pounce.  And Tami was no slouch either.
I think I held my own, but if we'd had a judge, I'm not sure which side got
the win.

   Now I tried to concentrate on a cartoon mutt.  Tami had gone to dinner
with her mother and the family of one of her mother's friends.  Robbie was
at her house probably planning to take over the world and Mom and Dad were
having dinner at the Holiday Inn with some of Mom's coworkers.  Traci was
in the back with Peter.

   Maybe I could just zone out for a couple hours, then go to bed and this
week would be over.

   "You did WHAT with Robbie!" Peter's voice brought me back.  There was a
different cartoon on the screen, one I didn't recognize.  I looked at my
watch.  I'd been sitting here an hour.  I listened, and the back of the
trailer had gone quiet again.

   I guessed that Traci had decided that tonight was the night for honesty,
and that included her experiments with Robbie.

   I decided that the cartoon on the screen was stupid but didn't have the
motivation to reach for the remote six inches from my hand.

   "KELLY!  My sister?" Peter's voice startled me again.

   Traci and Kelly?  I'd never suspected.  I managed to stand and walked
through the kitchen to the utility room that connected to the main hallway.
I listened but couldn't hear any more from the back bedroom.  Peter was a
smart kid.  He'd realize that Traci had just been experimenting and that
she and he were meant...

   "Your BROTHER!"

   Oh, fuck.  I couldn't believe she'd told him about that.  Hell, I hadn't
even thought of it when she was talking about honesty.

   "Your own brother!" Peter wailed.  "You, you..." Then Traci's door
slammed open and Peter raced down the hallway.

   "Peter are you okay?" I asked stepping out of the utility room.

   "YOUR OWN SISTER!" he screamed and his fist slammed into my stomach.  I
stumbled backwards and caught myself against the washing machine.

   The front door slammed.

   I straightened up and took a deep breath.  Peter was no fighter,
certainly no Monster Girl.  I walked down the hallway to Traci's room.  She
was sitting on her bed, tears freely streaming down her cheeks.  "Are you
okay?"

   She looked up at me.  "No." She wiped some tears away, to little effect.
"So much for honesty."

   I walked over and sat down beside her.  "It sounded like you told him
everything."

   "Oh, Tony!" She buried her face against my shoulder.

   "It's okay.  He'll come back.  It may take awhile, but..."

   "I don't think so," she said, her voice partially muffled.  "I told him
about Gary.  He was the first one, the one on the road trip.  Peter wasn't
mad, he said it was okay.  I told him about the others, and he was cool."

   I wondered just how many others, then decided that I didn't want or need
to know.

   Traci looked up at me.  The tears had stopped flowing but her face was
red and puffy.  "I told him about Robbie, and he freaked a little, but then
calmed down."

   I smiled and nodded.  She knew I knew about Robbie.  I think she also
knew that I tried hard not to think about it.

   "I told him about Kelly, and that bothered him.  Mostly 'cause Kelly's
his little sister."

   "I hadn't known about Kelly."

   Traci blushed.  It was hard to tell with her already red face, but I
could.

   "We just ...  just fooled around a little."

   I nodded.  "Then you told him about us?"

   "There was no us.  It was me.  You didn't want to.  But Peter freaked.
You heard him."

   "I did." I decided that I didn't need to mention he sucker punched me on
the way out.

   "What am I going to do?"

   I put my arm around her and hugged her tight.  "You're going to take a
hot bath and go to bed.  In the morning, everything will be better or it
won't.  You're just going to have to take it one day at a time."

   "Maybe I shouldn't have told him," Traci said, reaching up and wiping
the remaining tears away.

   "Maybe you shouldn't," I agreed.

   "Life is complicated," she sighed.

   I've only hit my sister once.  But when she said those three words I'd
used so often I wanted to slap her silly.



   Chapter 19

   "Okay, Trace, you're up."

   Traci frowned but stood up.  "I don't know why you signed me up for
this. I've been vaulting like shit."

   That was the truth.  Since her fight with Peter almost a month ago, she
hadn't been worth much of anything, in gymnastics or school.  I'd told Mom
about the fight with Peter, though not what it was about, and convinced her
to give Traci some space to work it out.

   Now I was ignoring my own advice.

   I ignored her comment, smiled at her, then walked up to the vaulting
table and announced her vault to the judges.

   Traci's run reminded me of a bull moose after a twelve-pack of beer. 
Not that I've ever seen a bull moose after a twelve-pack of beer.  She hit
the board, flew in the air, and somehow managed to get upside down.  Then
instead of hitting the vaulting table and popping up to finish her vault,
she kind of landed on it and fell off, though she did finish on her feet.

   "I told you," she said after she'd saluted the judges.

   "No, I'm going to tell you.  This is our last meet.  The district
championship, and a lot of our girls want to finish better than fifth like
we did last year.  I signed you up for this event because you're a damn
good vaulter.  But if you'd rather mope about Peter than help your team,
you might as well go sit down.

   "I know what you felt for Peter.  And I know what's going on now is
hurting, but ditching the rest of your life is not an option.  You can go
talk to him and see if you can make it better, or you can forget about him,
but this feeling sorry for yourself is done.  Now get out of my face, and
go sit down.  I'll tell the judges you're scratching." Traci glared at me,
but I turned my back on her.

   When I turned back, Traci was at the end of the runway looking
determined.  I didn't smile no matter how much I wanted to.  I signaled
Traci to throw her new vault, then told the judges.

   This time Traci's run still reminded me of a bull moose, but a bull
moose that wasn't going to get stopped by anything short of a bigger bull
moose.  Traci did a roundoff onto the springboard and exploded into the
air. She landed on her hands on the table, exploded again and twisted a
complete rotation before her perfect landing.  Now I smiled.

   "Bastard," she said between clenched teeth after saluting the judges. 
"I never want to talk to you again.

   I nodded, though she'd already turned her back to walk away.  She
disappeared into a small mob of girls full of congratulations, hugs and
kisses.  I could live with not talking to Traci as long as she rejoined the
rest of the world.

   "How come you're not in the middle of that?" I asked Kelly as she stood
off the side and stretched her wrists and neck.

   "I need to focus on my vault."

   "Okaaaayyyyy."

   Kelly gave me a dirty look, then glanced at the judges table where they
were just putting up a nine point six five for Traci's vault.  Her best
ever.

   She glanced at my sister, who hadn't noticed yet.  A smile snuck onto
her face, then quickly disappeared.

   'Now what?' I wondered as Suzie got ready to vault

   It had been a rough month.  Not even my birthday last week could cheer
it up.  Of course, seventeen is kind of a blah year.  I mean, turn fifteen
and you get your learner's permit.  Sixteen and you get your license. 
Eighteen and you can vote.  But seventeen is just kind of there.

   Mostly, Traci sat in her room and listened to music.  Kelly was around
the first week, but after that it was Ann, and she hadn't changed much.

   I tried to talk to Traci a couple of times, but no luck.

   I was kind of surprised that it kept going on.  I could understand Peter
getting upset.  I mean, it was a lot to handle all at once.  Especially the
part about Traci and me.  Hell, I still don't handle that part very well.
But he and Trace seemed so natural together that I thought he would get
over it.

   Of course, Tami and I were pretty natural together, and our fights
always lasted way too long.

   "Traci, awesome vault.  I saw your score," I said as I rejoined the team
after vault was over.  I have never been so thoroughly ignored in my life.

   "You were a little rough on her," Cheyenne said quietly.

   I bit my tongue to stifle the first response that came to mind. 
"Cheyenne, I really appreciate that you're trying to be more about the
team, but trust me, this is one you don't want to get in the middle of."

   Cheyenne looked like she had to reject her first thought too.  "Okay."

   "Cheyenne!"

   She looked startled.  We were just getting ready for our one-touch on
floor.  In long meets, like districts, they give the next four or five
gymnasts in a rotation a one-touch warm-up just before they competed.  On
vault, bars, and beam, that meant exactly like it sounded.  The gymnast got
to touch the apparatus one time.  That's one vault or one sequence of three
or four moves on beam and bars.  On floor, three or four tumbling passes.

   "Coach?" she said tentatively as she walked over.

   "You feeling your double?"

   Her face lit up.  "You mean it?"

   "Gary said if you were having a good day, you could throw it.  You want
to do it today or save it for the club meet next week?"

   "Are you kidding?"

   I took that as a yes.  "Okay, we're going to throw it on your first
tumbling pass when you've got lots of energy."

   The judge signaled we could start one-touch.

   "Right now, I want your second pass first, then your third pass, then
we'll try two doubles and decide from there."

   Cheyenne nodded and ran to the corner to wait her turn.

   Cheyenne's second tumbling pass was a front handspring into a front
flip, walking out into a roundoff Shusanova.  A Shusanova is where she
rebounds out of the roundoff, does a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree straddle
jump, but lands with her whole body flat on the ground.  "Too much knees,"
I said when she finished.

   Her third tumbling pass was her easiest.  For her anyway.  A
double-twisting back flip.

   "Good height, but you over-rotated a little."

   Cheyenne nodded, probably having already figured that out.

   "You ready for this?"

   She nodded again.

   As Kelly finished her third pass, I walked out onto the floor, then
nodded to Cheyenne.  She nodded back, looked down at the floor for a
second, then exploded in her run.  Roundoff, back handspring, then punch
into the air.  I was there when she punched, but saw she didn't need any
extra power.  Cheyenne pulled her knees up sharply and started her
rotation, one, she was looking good, two, I was set up under her, saw her
open up and knew she had it.  I backed off.

   "I nailed it," Cheyenne said with a huge grin as she ran to the corner
to wait her last practice pass.

   "You did," I agreed.  "Do it like that in the meet and the judges may
have to figure out what comes after ten."

   Impossibly, Cheyenne's grin got bigger.

   "You want me out there?"

   I could see the word no on her lips, but she hesitated.  "Am I safe
without you?"

   I smiled.  "Cheyenne, no trick questions.  If you're confident, I'm
confident."

   Cheyenne looked out at the floor.  "I'm good."

   I nodded and moved over next to Tami.  Cheyenne's second double was even
better than her first.

   I hugged Kelly as she ran off the floor.  It was probably her best floor
routine this year.  In fact, everyone seemed to have peaked tonight. 
Cheyenne got the signal to start from the judge and walked out to the
middle of the floor and took her starting pose.

   Tami, over on side, saw she was ready and started her music.  Cheyenne
started her routine on the third measure, dancing her way to the far
corner. The music changed, Cheyenne glanced at me, then burst into her
first tumbling pass.  After her back handspring she exploded upward into
what looked to me to be a textbook double.  She landed, grinned, then
danced away.

   When she finished her routine just over a minute later she saluted the
judges, then tackled me in a hug.  "How are your grades?" I asked when I
got my breath back.

   "My grades?"

   "IF you flunk, we can do this again next year."

   We gathered our stuff and moved off to the side of the gym.  There was
still one school to go on floor and several competitors on beam and bars.
Vault looked like it was done.

   "Looks like you've got a new favorite," Kelly said with more than a
touch of spite as she shouldered her gym bag.

   "Not hardly.  You're still my favorite munchkin.  When you talk to me at
least.  You haven't been by the house in a couple weeks."

   "I ...  I've been busy with other friends and stuff."

   "Un huh.  At least Cheyenne doesn't lie to me." I walked past her to the
rest of the team.

   "Ladies!" I yelled.  The girls all sat up straighter in their seats. 
From the corner of my eye, I saw that Tami, Stephy, and Miss Calloway
hadn't gone into the pizza place like usual but were hanging just outside
the bus.  "You are making my job almost impossible."

   They were quiet, waiting.

   "We have one little tradition.  After a meet, I yell at ya." I noticed a
couple of parents had joined the coaches outside the door.  "But I have
nothing to yell about."

   "We came in third," Suzie suggested.

   "Nah, I can't yell about that 'cause it's two places better than last
year.  And we have girls in all four event finals tomorrow.  Besides--I
think, I'll check the stats to be sure--but I think that every girl on this
bus had at least one season best score, and for most of you, it was a
personal best too.

   "Seriously, I couldn't be prouder if I'd invented you.  Just remember
when anyone asks, I was your coach.  Miss Calloway, Tami, and Stephy just
sat around, ate bon bons and buffed their nails."

   "I heard that!" Stephy's voice came from outside.

   "What about next year?" Suzie asked.

   "Next year?  Unless your grades are worse than I've heard, there is no
next year."

   "What about high school gymnastics?"

   "That's not up to me.  If you want a team in high school next year, you
need to get your parents off the sofa and to the school board meetings. 
They need to petition the board."

   "Will you coach us if we get a team?" Cheyenne asked.

   "I'd hate to desert the middle school, but we'll worry about it when you
talk the board into it.  Besides, whoever coaches the team may not even
want me."

   "They'd better," Suzie chimed in.

   I grinned and shrugged.  "Go eat too much pizza!" I yelled.

   Suzie was the first one into the aisle, and she hugged me.  Cheyenne was
second with my hug.  Traci was the third one into the aisle, but she just
pushed past me.  One by one, all the girls gave me a hug until only Kelly
was left, still sitting in her seat.

   "Can I talk to you?"

   "Anytime and anywhere," I said swinging into the seat in front of her.

   Kelly hesitated.  "Do you know what she did?" she blurted finally.

   "I assume we're talking about Traci.  No idea.  Is this about her and
Peter?"

   "No.  Well, not really."

   I waited.  I'd learned my lesson last year.  With Kelly I had to wait
until she was ready to talk.

   "I guess it started there."

   "Okay."

   "When they had their fight, or broke up, or whatever they did, I decided
that I wasn't going to let myself get sucked into it.  Traci was my friend,
and Peter's my brother." I noticed the past tense she'd used on Trace.  "It
kinda worked, but Peter kept giving me funny looks.

   "I mentioned it to Traci, and she said ...  well ...  she ...  uh..."

   "She said she'd told Peter that you and her had sex."

   Kelly went crimson.

   "You ...  how ...  when ...  I ...  uh ...  Did Traci tell you too?

   "No.  Actually, Peter did."

   "Peter?"

   "When Traci told him, he repeated it at full volume."

   "How could she tell him something like that without talking to me
first?"

   "Come here," I said to stall for time.  Kelly got up and came around the
seat.  I pulled her across my lap.  "Traci had some secrets that she
thought she should tell Peter to make their relationship more honest.  She
forgot the other people in those secrets.  She's not real happy with how
that turned out."

   "Me and Traci, is that what has him weirded out?  It was just a couple
of times."

   I hesitated.  "No, I guess he was surprised but took that okay." I took
a deep breath and looked straight at Kelly.  "It was me and Traci that
bothered him."

   "YOU!"

   I nodded.  "It was just once.  On the road trip.  But Peter..."

   Kelly sighed.  "My brother's kind of conventional."

   I nodded.

   "But how could she tell him.  What if he...  ?"

   "Peter's not going to say anything about you."

   "How can you be sure?" Kelly asked.  "I mean, guys like to talk, and
that's kind of juicy."

   "Because Peter's known about you and me and Mikee and me for a long
time."

   "But how?"

   "I never asked.  But he and I were talking once and he told me he knew
about me and his sisters.  Peter you can trust.  Now if Kenny had known ...
well, you might as well have put in on CNN."

   Kelly nodded.  "But Traci?  How can I trust her?"

   "I remember a couple years ago when someone who shall remain nameless
told your parents about a present Alana was going to give them for their
anniversary." Kelly turned crimson again.  "Did Alana stop trusting you?"

   "Maybe for a little while."

   "But she got over it."

   Kelly nodded.  "You think I need to get over it?"

   "I think right now, Traci needs all the friends she can get."



   Chapter 20

   "We need to talk."

   So much for my dream of a quiet Sunday afternoon after a long weekend of
gymnastics.

   Traci stood over me looking pissed.  She'd looked that way a lot this
weekend.  Kelly had just left.  The two of them had been closeted together
for almost three hours.  "What makes you think I need your help with my
friends?"

   Okay, that's it.  I stop trying to help.  Sisters, at least.

   "I..."

   "Kelly told me you talked to her Friday after the meet."

   "I did."

   "Why?"

   I got up out of Dad's chair.  "Certain brats may have forgotten, since
they've been so wrapped up in their own problems, but Kelly is my friend
too.  And MY FRIEND wanted to talk."

   Traci's jaw dropped.  I walked to my room and closed the door.

   "Maybe I shouldn't go."

   "Maybe you should quit the job you love and stay home.  You can home
school the brat.  That way you can keep her in a bubble and protect her
from the world."

   "Tony!"

   I think I managed to shock my mother.  I smiled and let her think about
it.

   "You think I'm smothering her?"

   I shrugged.  "Not usually.  Usually you have a sometimes irritating
habit of letting us dig our own holes, then try to climb out.  But right
now your only daughter is hurting and you want to help.  You want to make
everything better."

   "You don't?"

   "I know I can't.  Only Traci can make it better.  Either she and Peter
work something out, or she has to get over it."

   "Damn.  It's hell when your kids get smarter than you."

   I smiled.  "Not smarter, just more objective.  I can take a step back
and see that it's Traci who has to make the next move.  You can't.  You're
Mom."

   Mom climbed out of Dad's chair, came over, and ruffled my hair.  "So we
wait?"

   "Patiently."

   I sat on the sofa and watched as Mom paced the living room.  Traci was
over at Kelly's, which at least got her out of the house.

   "If I strangle the kid, will you bury the body for me?"

   "Peter?"

   "It's all his fault she's hurting."

   "It's..." Damn!  "It's nobody's fault.  It's just ...  one of those
things."

   "You know.  You know, don't you?  What this is all about."

   Damn, Damn, Damn!  When I'd told Mom about the fight I'd managed to give
the impression that I didn't know what it was about.  "Yes," I said
finally."

   "Then..."

   I sighed.  "You already know my answer to that.  Is there any sense in
us getting in a fight, too?"

   "It's not your secret to tell," she said resignedly.

   I nodded.

   "But maybe I could help."

   "If Trace wants you to know..."

   Mom's turn to nod.  "So I wait?"

   "No, you go to Philadelphia.  You sit through three days of meetings and
pretend you couldn't have learned just as much in a one-page memo.  You
visit your old friend Mary and relive your glory years of protests and
getting hauled off to jail.  Then you call Dad and meet him in San
Francisco for a weekend and wonder why you ever had kids." Dad had a
planners' conference all week and had left today.

   "What about baseball?"

   "Doesn't start until next week.  I actually have a week with nothing
extra to do.  No football, baseball, gymnastics.  No play.  Nothing."

   "But she's not even talking to you."

   "Which just means it's a quiet week, too."

   "Can I talk to you?"

   Traci stood in the door of my room, several large white specks in her
hair giving me a hint that either the weather had changed or Traci needed a
stronger shampoo.

   "If you can wait three-and-a-half sentences..." I was just finishing a
paper comparing international aid programs to the welfare state.  I typed
the last period and saved the paper, then turned to my sister.  The white
specks had disappeared, so I assumed they were snow and not dandruff.

   "Yes?" Considering our conversation that afternoon, I tried to sound as
neutral as I could.

   "I ...  I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

   "For what?"

   "For jumping on you today.  I thought you were interfering."

   I smiled.  "I'm a big brother.  Interfering is in my job description."

   Traci ignored my joke.  "Kelly said she talked to you, not the other way
around."

   Traci stood, scuffing her feet.

   "Did you get why she was mad?" I asked after a minute.

   "Yeah, I guess I never thought ...  I ...  I wish I'd never talked to
Peter."

   You and me both.  "Trace, I don't want to pry." Pry, hell.  I don't want
to know.  "I don't know if you and Robbie ...  or you and Kelly ...  still
...  I mean, if Peter had found out the hard way, walking in on you ...  it
would have been worse." That had to be the most disjointed sentence I'd
ever uttered.

   "Sometimes." She didn't specify if she still played with Robbie or Kelly
or both.  I figured I'd leave it there.

   There was another long silence.

   "Trace, if it's any consolation, you're not the first teenager to wish
life had a do-over."

   "TONY SIMS.  PLEASE COME TO THE OFFICE."

   I snapped my book closed.  "Didn't we do this last month?" I said in
disgust.

   "And always debate," Robbie pointed out.

   "Maybe if you had an unlisted address," Tami suggested.

   "Have I ever mentioned just what a comfort you two are?"

   They shrugged in perfect unison.  I gathered my books, nodded to Mrs. 
Conners, and left.

   The scene in the office almost duplicated last month's.  Melissa Bates
was still buffing her nails while reading a magazine that was open on the
counter in front of her.  Mr.  Reed was chatting with Mrs.  Hatcher, but
this time instead of sitting on the edge of the spare desk he was sitting
in the chair behind it.

   "People."

   "Tony, you have another phone call.  Mr.  Hollowell."

   Without waiting for an invitation I came around the counter, picked up
the phone, and pressed the flashing button.  "Tony Sims."

   "Tony, This is Miss Stanton at the middle school.  Mr.  Hollowell had to
step away.  There's been another fight.  Traci..."

   "I'll be right there," I interrupted.

   Well, Mom can stop worrying about the brat, 'cause I'm gonna kill her.

   "Where is she?"

   Mr.  Hollowell was back in the office when I got there.  He looked
startled at my tone.

   "In the nurse's station.  She said your parents were out of town again.
She..."

   "Can I talk to her?"

   "Yes, but you should know..."

   "I'll be back in a minute." As I walked to the nurse's station I counted
to ten in Aztec.  I was just learning and wasn't sure of my pronunciations.
I was probably as mad as I'd ever been.  We'd just done this last month,
and I thought she understood.  Mom was going to freak.

   I opened the door, walked in, and stopped short.  Traci was sitting on
the examination table.  One cheek was swollen, and turning a dark purple.
There was a small cut under her eye, but that couldn't account for the
volume of blood on her t-shirt.

   Traci saw the anger on my face and looked scared.

   But the anger faded quickly as I looked at her.  "What...  ?"

   "I didn't fight.  I didn't."

   "I ...  Are you okay?"

   "Tony?" said a voice behind me.  I looked back and saw Mr.  Hollowell
had followed.  I looked back at Traci.

   "I didn't fight," Traci repeated.

   "Jaime?" I asked, and Traci nodded.  I stepped forward and took a closer
look at her face.  "The blood?"

   "Is Jaime's."

   I decided to be nicer to my sister.  She was tougher than I thought. 
"Where does it hurt?"

   "My jaw and my ribs.  He kicked me."

   The kid was dead.  "What happened?"

   Traci hesitated.

   "Did you start it?" Traci shook her head.  "Then tell it," I ordered.  I
figured even after getting hurt, she didn't want to squeal on the walking
corpse.

   "If it helps, I've already talked to Kelly Temple, Suzie Calloway, and
several others," Mr.  Hollowell said from behind me.

   "I kinda cut my sixth period class.  I mean, I just wasn't in the mood
for algebra.  Kelly, Suzie, and I went up on the stage.  There was about a
dozen kids hanging out."

   "Were you smoking?" Mr.  Hollowell asked.

   "No.  A couple of kids were, but I don't.  Tony would kill me, if Mom
didn't get to me first."

   You got that right.

   "Who?" Mr.  Hollowell asked and Traci clamped her mouth shut.

   I suppressed a smile.  "What happened next?"

   "Jaime and a couple of his friends came up a few minutes later.  He saw
us and came over.  He said something about how good I looked, then said
he'd heard I'd broken up with Peter and would I like to catch a movie.

   "I knew he liked Superman comics, so I said I wouldn't date him even in
an upside-down Bizarro universe.  He got mad and said that Peter was
telling everyone that sex with me was like one potato chip, over quick and
not very satisfying.  I knew Peter would never say that."

   "No, he wouldn't," I agreed.

   "So I laughed and told him his sex life was always going to be his right
hand, and the hand was already complaining it was bored."

   I smiled in spite of myself.

   "Then he slapped me.  I asked him if his mother taught him how to hit.
That's when he hit me with his fist.  It hurt, but I didn't hit him back."
Traci looked straight into my eyes.  "I didn't fight." I nodded and smiled
to let her know I was proud of her.

   "I said something about if that's as hard as he can hit, it's no wonder
he got beat up by a girl.  That's when he hit me again.  In the same
fucking spot."

   I didn't bother correcting her language, and behind me, neither did Mr.
Hollowell.

   "When he hit me the second time, I lost my balance and fell backward.  I
looked up at him and told him he was pathetic.  That's when he kicked me."

   Hailey had told me about Suzie's sister Caroline and her surgery on a
boyfriend.  Maybe if I bought Caroline a ticket, she'd come up for a
vacation and practice her knife skills.

   I lifted her t-shirt up and looked.  There was a large bruise on her
right side.  I gently felt along her ribs.  She winced, but I didn't think
there was anything serious.  Since Cousin Wynter didn't have her own x-ray
yet, I figured I'd take her to the hospital and use theirs.

   "That's when ...  uh ...  some guys grabbed him," Traci continued.

   "What Traci's trying not to say is Mike Hayward, Doug Reiner and Charley
Rositer pulled Jaime off her and worked him over a little.  That's where
the blood came from," Mr.  Hollowell clarified.

   "Are they in trouble?" Traci asked.  "They were just helping me."

   "They went too far.  They'll get three day suspensions."

   "Tony," Traci said pleadingly.

   I turned and looked at Mr.  Hollowell.  "Five days."

   "Tony!" "Five days?" Traci and Mr.  Hollowell said together.

   "Five days to send a message that fighting is not tolerated."

   "Tony!" Traci repeated.

   "Then you can suspend the sentence to acknowledge the extenuating
circumstances."

   Mr.  Hollowell smiled.  "If I ever get in trouble, will you represent
me?"

   I smiled back.  "Even if I have to go to law school to do it."

   "What about Jaime?" I asked.

   "I'm recommending expulsion.  What about Jaime?" he threw my question
back at me.

   "Five days, suspended?" I asked.  He nodded.

   "You're taking care of Traci's heroes so I owe you.  Tell Jaime if he
ever says a word to Traci again, I'll make sure he spends the rest of his
life in pain."

   Mr.  Hollowell nodded.  I think he accepted that I hadn't made an idle
threat.  Hopefully, Jaime would realize just how lucky he was.

   "Can I take Traci now?  I think her ribs are okay, but I want to get an
x-ray." I helped Trace of the table.  "Can she come back tomorrow?"

   "She's not in trouble for the fight.  And I think we can overlook the
cutting class if she promises not to do it again this year."

   Traci nodded.

   I put my arm around her, and she leaned against me as we walked out.

   "Think you could do me one favor?" I asked.

   "What?"

   "The next time you don't fight, do it when Mom is here.  I've got to
make a phone call I'm not looking forward to."

   Traci grinned, though it obviously hurt to.  "That's why they pay you
the big bucks."