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 21

   "TONY SIMS.  PLEASE COME TO THE OFFICE."

   Fuck!  There is no way.

   Mrs.  Conners shot me a dirty look but didn't say anything as I closed
my notebook.  We were getting ready for a team debate, and I'd been jotting
down ideas.

   "ROBBIE TATE.  PLEASE COME TO THE OFFICE."

   Robbie grinned at me.  "Maybe my little sister got into a fight too."
Darlene was a month-and-a-half younger than Robbie.

   "Maybe tomorrow you'll stay for the entire class," Mrs.  Conners said
dryly.

   "The way things are going, I may not make it at all."

   "Think Wa-say's ganging up on us again?" Robbie asked when we were out
in the hall.

   "Don't know, don't care.  I'm going to think pleasant thoughts as long
as I can."

   "What?"

   "Tami and me on a beach all by ourselves this summer."

   "No road trip?"

   I grinned.  "You can drop us off, then pick us up on the way back."

   We turned into the office.  Melissa Bates was alone in the office. 
Instead of standing at the counter buffing her nails, she was sitting at
the spare desk with her magazine in one hand and twirling a lock of hair
with the other.

   "You're supposed to go in there," she said, pointing at the conference
room.

   I held the gate for Robbie, and we walked toward the door.

   "Wa-say," I sighed.  "After yesterday, I don't know how much I can
take." Traci's x-rays were clear, but as predicted, the phone call to Mom
wasn't fun.  It took almost an hour to convince her that Traci would be
okay and she didn't have to jump on the first plane.  The call to dad was
less intense but not much better.  I knew it wasn't my fault, but I still
couldn't help feel I'd let them down.

   "Maybe I'd better do the talking," Robbie suggested.

   "Yeah, you're more concise," I said sarcastically, reminding her of a
comment she'd made last month.

   "True," she said, opening the door.

   I considered a comment about three thousandths of a point but decided
there was already one black-and-blue Sims.

   We expected Spaulding, Kennedy, and Rosen from WSAA, but we got three
boys and a girl about our own age sitting at the conference table.  If
Robbie was surprised, she didn't show it.  "Hi, I'm Robbie Tate, and this
is Tony Sims.

   The boys stood.  "Hi, I'm Billy Polaski," the tallest said holding out
his hand to Robbie, then me.  "This is Kyle Landers and Jake Liu." The two
boys also shook hands.  "And this is Marsha Zwicker."

   "The devil," I said leaning across the table to shake hands with the
seated girl.  Robbie looked surprised.  "The play contest," I explained,
and she made the connection.

   "You were the devil," I accused the girl.

   Marsha smiled.  "Most of my teachers didn't think playing the devil was
much of a stretch.  I'm surprised you recognized me, with all that
make-up?"

   I smiled.  "You were excellent.  I've watched the DVD twice." About a
week after the banquet, we got a package from the foundation with six DVDs.
One for each of the finalist plays.  None of them had copyright warnings,
so I used my computer to make copies for all of us.  If they'd had
copyright warnings, I probably would have made the copies anyway.

   "Kyle was in it, too.  He was one of my demons."

   I was glad I hadn't added a comment about the rest of the cast not being
up to her standards.

   "We came to see you ...  and ...  uh..." Billy stammered.  "We're from
Lake," he admitted.  I was surprised.  I'm sure that the schools were
identified in the beginning titles and end credits, but I hadn't paid any
attention.

   Robbie and I exchanged looks.

   "Kyle, Jake, and I are on the baseball team.  Marsha plays softball."

   "Okay," Robbie said.

   "We want to play ball."

   Robbie looked at me, and I knew the ball was in my court.  It was nice
to know that she trusted me to be the spokesman.  Of course that trust
would only last as long as I said what she wanted said.  "Why aren't you in
school?"

   "We cut.  We wanted to talk to you."

   "So this was your idea?" Robbie asked.

   "Mostly," Billy said.  "My dad and I talked about it."

   I was glad I hadn't jumped to a conclusion.  Spaulding from WSAA had
assumed that teenagers couldn't make their own decisions and I almost
followed in his footsteps, thinking their principal or athletic director
had sent them.

   "What do you want us to do?" Robbie asked, sitting down across from
them. The boys sat and I followed suit.

   "You're supposed to be our first game.  Our first league game.  We want
you to play," Billy said.

   "We heard about your team last year," Jake added.  "You're the team to
beat."

   "We want our chance," Kyle finished.

   "The problem is Coach Rich..." I said.

   "He's the problem," Billy agreed.  "I know he's a sexist."

   "And a fascist," Kyle added.  "I played JV football my freshman year,
but not the last three 'cause I didn't want to play for him.

   "And a pervert," Marsha added.

   "But we're stuck with him," Billy finished.  "The school board won't do
anything."

   "We're trying to make a point," I said.

   "You've made it.  But the fact is, Rich could care less if a few
basketball games get canceled.  Or baseball, softball, whatever.  And he
figures it will all blow over, over the summer.  The ones who care are the
players.  We want to play ball."

   When Billy finished, Marsha stood up and leaned across the table. 
"Look, we've got a pretty decent school.  Most of the teachers are cool,
and we've got good coaches in all our other sports.  How come we're getting
punished for one fucking jerk."

   I looked at Robbie and had a feeling that she was thinking the same
thing I was.

   "It's your call," she said finally.  "I just wanted to tackle the S.O.B.
and take out both his knees."

   I looked back at Billy and offered him my hand.  "We'd be happy to come
to Lake and teach you how to play baseball."

   "In your dreams," he said, shaking it.

   "No, it's going to be your nightmare."

   "If it's any consolation, my dad's brought up Coach Rich at three
different school board meetings.  It gets tabled every time," Billy said.

   "Other people have brought it up too.  Every meeting since you guys
walked out on us." Kyle added.

   "My dad's going to try again at the meeting in two weeks."

   "Um." I looked at Robbie.  She had a look on her face that said somebody
should be afraid.  Very afraid.  "Does your dad really want the board to
fire Rich?"

   "Maybe not fire him, but a letter of reprimand or something."

   Robbie grinned.  "I think that can be arranged."

   'Now what?' I wondered as I shook hands with the delegation.  And was it
going to get me suspended again?

   Tuesday was Traci's fight.  Yesterday the Lake delegation ambushed us. I
wondered what was left for today and tomorrow as I looked around the
crowded cafeteria.  Mikee and Tami were sitting on either side of me.  Both
were sipping the soup.  I figured if they were still upright a minute from
now, I'd have a taste.  Chicken noodle was one of my favorites.

   Robbie and Darlene walked up with their trays, giggling about 'him'.  I
didn't know who him was and wasn't sure I wanted to.  "Ladies," I greeted
as they sat down.  Peter hadn't eaten with us since his fight with Traci,
though I'd told Mikee to let him know he was welcome.

   "What are you two doing Friday?" I asked.

   "That's tomorrow," Darlene said.  I nodded that it was.  "The usual."

   I knew she'd been going out with Tyler Brock, but didn't know what the
usual was.

   "I thought I might catch a movie with ...  someone." Robbie added.

   I wondered if someone was related to him.

   "You are both invited to a party."

   "A party?" Darlene echoed.

   "Nice you could give us so much notice," Robbie added.

   I bowed in my seat, then tried the soup.  It was excellent.

   "Whose party?" Darlene asked.  "I hadn't heard anything." As one of the
cheerleaders she usually did.

   "Traci's.  I'm giving it for her."

   "I thought you were mad at her?" Robbie said.

   "Nope, she's mad at me.  Big difference."

   "And you think a party will help?"

   "It's not a bribe, if that's what you're thinking.  She made me proud
Tuesday.  I owe it to her."

   Robbie nodded.

   I looked straight at her.  "She really doesn't like you, but I have to
invite you.  It's at your house."

   Robbie had just taken a sip of her Coke.  It came back through her nose
as she snorted.  "My house!" she exclaimed as she wiped her face with a
napkin.

   "Mine isn't big enough for a big party," I said innocently.  "I cleared
it with your dad, but he said I HAD to invite you."

   Darlene, Tami, and Mikee were trying hard not to giggle as Robbie
glared.

   "I wouldn't come to one of your parties if you paid me," Robbie said
finally.  "But I'll come for Traci.  I'm proud of her too.  Though I would
have turned the creep into a eunuch."

   "Where's Kelly?"

   Traci wandered through the living room, picked up a magazine, looked at
the cover, then dropped it.  "She has a date with Charley Rositer."

   "What about Ann?" I managed to ask without making a face.

   "She went out with Coleton Reeves." Traci made a face and I guessed she
didn't like Ann's boy of the week.

   "So Friday night and nothing to do?"

   "I guess."

   "Good!" I said and climbed out of Dad's chair.  "You can help me."

   "Doing what?"

   "I have to pick up some stuff at Robbie's house."

   "I don't..."

   "You've been sitting around since you got home from school.  Get your
coat."

   "Okay," she mumbled.  Since she and Kelly got back to being friends,
she'd forgotten she wasn't talking to me.  But she hadn't forgotten she was
mad.

   "What's going on?" she asked when we pulled up at Robbie's a few minutes
later.  The house was brightly lit and music pounded at us.

   "Some kind of party.  Let's go."

   We walked in, and Traci quickly recognized most of the guests.  About
twenty middle schoolers were hanging out in Robbie's big living room, more
in the dining room.  On the stage I'd put together that afternoon in the
dining room, Robbie and Unrehearsed were performing one of Britney Spears'
songs.

   "What...  ?  Traci mumbled as she realized that almost everyone was from
the middle school.

   I pulled her through to the dining room.  The group was just finishing
the song, so I jumped up on the front of the stage.  "LADIES!" I yelled and
in a few seconds, the whole gymnastics team materialized in front of the
stage.  I looked at Trace, "Aren't you part of this team?"

   Looking confused, she walked over and stood next to Kelly.

   Robbie handed me a microphone.  "Peoples," I said and listened as my
voice echoed through the house.  Slowly everyone moved into the dining
room. "Most of you have probably heard that the gymnastics team took third
in districts."

   There was scattered unenthusiastic applause.

   "Some of you may think that's not very good, but remember, last year we
were the only new team in the district.  We lost every meet.  And only
through superior coaching did we manage to squeeze out fifth place at
districts."

   Kelly blew me a raspberry.

   "This year, we won two."

   "And tied one," Suzie yelled.

   "And tied one," I said making a face.

   The team laughed, but everyone else looked confused.

   "Then went on to take third in the district meet."

   "Through superior coaching," Suzie yelled.

   I took a small bow.  "Your third place on their way to being a
championship gymnastics team," I yelled spreading my arms to encompass the
team.

   This time, the applause was loud and long.

   "At districts, every one of these girls had some of their best scores of
the whole season," I continued after the applause died down.  "And for
everyone to peak at the same time is a special thing."

   A little more applause.

   "Two of the girls, went a little further.  Cheyenne, come on up."

   Cheyenne turned pink but stepped onto the stage, then turned, facing the
crowd.

   "Before she met me, she could barely do a cartwheel.  Ladies and
gentlemen, the DISTRICT all-around champion, Cheyenne Morris!" I leaned
down and kissed her, and the pink turned bright red.

   "At the meet, for the first time in competition, Cheyenne did a double
back.  And it was the best one I've ever seen in all my years of coaching."

   "All one of them," Kelly yelled.

   "Kiss him again," some boy yelled.

   Cheyenne, who'd almost gotten back to her normal color, turned red
again, but put her arms around my neck and kissed me again for several
seconds.

   "Wow!" I said when she pulled away.  "Guys, if she already has a
boyfriend, put your name on the waiting list."

   Cheyenne, still beet red, escaped to the team.

   "One more gymnast to mention, ladies, gentlemen and seventh graders, the
two thousand and six district vaulting champion, Traci Sims!"

   Traci looked stunned, though she had to know it was coming.  Kelly gave
her a push toward the stage, and she stepped up.

   I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.  "And that's all she's getting," I
said and got a big laugh.

   "This party is about heroes.  These are your gymnastic heroes, but we
also have three real-life heroes.  Three guys who rescued my sister
Tuesday. Mike Hayward, Doug Reiner and Charley Rositer.  Guys."

   The three guys came up, and I shook their hands.  "Trace, I think you
owe these guys something special."

   Traci managed to turn redder than Cheyenne had, but gave each one a long
kiss.

   "That's enough," Kelly yelled after Traci's kiss with Charley lasted
about ten seconds.

   "Enough talk," I yelled.  "Let's party!"

   "I still hate you," Traci said softly.

   "Can't blame you."



   Chapter 22

   I woke up when Tami elbowed me in the stomach.  I opened my eyes.  She
was still asleep in my arms but had shifted position.  Her head shared my
pillow with mine.  Right now she was facing away from me, so that all I
could see was hair and an ear, but that was enough.  Besides, it was a
beautiful ear.  I could stay like this forever, just watching that ear and
feeling Tami's gentle breathing.

   Forever or until five o'clock when Mom and Dad were supposed to get
home. I glanced at my clock on the night stand.  It was just after ten. 
Forever or seven hours, whichever came first.

   I heard Traci moving around the trailer and smiled.  The party Friday
night had been great, though I felt like a hypocrite considering the number
of couples that I shooed away from the bedrooms.  And the one couple I
didn't, Kelly and Charlie Rossiter.  But the party had done what it was
supposed to, it got Traci almost back to herself.  She spent most of it
laughing and dancing.

   And when people kept asking her to sing with the band, it was almost
like, "Peter who?"

   Robbie's dad hadn't come home until the party was breaking up.  He
looked around, clicked his tongue a couple times, shook his head, but
didn't say anything.  Yesterday, I was up at the crack of dawn, even though
it was a Saturday, and over at Robbie's house cleaning the mess.  It was
amazing the amount of trash that forty middle schoolers could make.  Then I
disassembled the stage and stored it in the utility building out behind the
chicken coop.

   Robbie came downstairs just as I was getting ready to leave.  She looked
around with half-closed eyes, mumbled something, and headed for the
kitchen. I grinned and took off.  I spent the rest of the day at the gym.
We were hosting a big meet, and besides helping Gary with the team, I was a
general go-fer.

   The meet had three sessions, and our team was in the second one at two.
The meet went great.  Our level eights took first and our level sevens took
second, though Kelly and Cheyenne tied for first all-around, something that
neither of them was happy about.  We had nines and tens too.  They did
good, but we didn't have enough to make a team score.

   It was fun, but I didn't get out of the gym until after ten.  I
collected Tami, and we took a short walk, short because I was beat, then we
came home.  Tami's mom had, accommodatingly, gone to a concert in Seattle
with friends, so I had my Little Mustang all to myself.

   And I could stare at her ear forever.

   My doorknob turned.  "Tony, are you awa...  ?" Traci asked quietly
before realizing I wasn't alone.  "Oh, I'm..."

   "It's okay," I said.  Traci had turned red.  You'd think the number of
times she'd caught me with Tami, it wouldn't get to her anymore.  "I'll be
out in a second."

   Traci nodded and quietly closed my door.

   I wondered if I installed a lock on my door, if Mom would consider it a
violation of her discreet rule.

   Tami was between me and the floor, so I started to crawl over her,
pausing to kiss that beautiful ear.  As my feet hit the floor Tami moaned
and rolled, over so I took the opportunity to kiss her other ear.

   I dressed quickly, made a quick pit stop, then went to find Traci.  She
was in the kitchen creating havoc.  Trace was turning into a pretty good
cook, but she could dirty six bowls, three forks, a whisk, and four plates
just making scrambled eggs.

   I watched her for a second and didn't have a clue what her finished
product was going to be.  My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't
eaten since five o'clock yesterday and then only some nachos.  I didn't
want to get into Traci's production line, so I snagged a bowl, some milk,
and a box of Cocoa Krispies.

   I was half done when Trace came out to the table, her plate loaded with
eggs benedict, hash browns, and sausage.  She sat down and started eating,
her eyes wandering between her plate and me.  "Can I talk to you?" she
asked finally.

   "You're my favorite sister.  Anytime," I said, setting down my spoon and
lifting my bowl to drink the last of my milk.

   "I'm your only sister."

   "That we know about." I set my bowl down.  "It occurs to me that maybe
Mom was more adventurous than we gave her credit for."

   Traci made a face, and I knew she was entertaining the thought I did my
best to avoid: that my parents may have actually had sex and maybe not just
with each other.

   "I wanted ...  uh ...  that is ...  I..."

   It was always fun when Traci couldn't get the words out.  I considered
letting her plod on but only had a few more hours with my sleeping beauty.
"Trace, you know, and I know, that you've decided to ask me something that
you think is awkward or embarrassing or a combination of both.  We also
both know that eventually you'll spit it out, so why not save the
stammering and just ask."

   Traci glared.  I grinned.

   Traci looked down at her half-eaten breakfast.  "Why'd you make me
vault?" she asked so quietly that I almost didn't catch it.

   It was a hell of a question.

   I ignored her for a minute while I got up and took my bowl to the
kitchen.  I rinsed it out and put it into the dishwasher.  I tried not to
look at the rest of the kitchen.  I came back and laid my hands on Traci's
shoulders.  I could see her in the reflection of the picture window.  "You
want an answer that'll make you feel better or the truth?"

   Traci took a bite of her eggs, then said "Both."

   "I made you vault because I'm you're big brother and I could."

   Traci turned her head and looked up at me.  "That's supposed to make me
feel better?"

   I gave her shoulders a squeeze then moved around the table to my seat.
"It's simple.  It's expected.  It's the stereotype."

   Traci cocked her head as she stared at me.  "And what's the truth?"

   "Do you remember when Tami was mad at me?"

   "Which time?" she asked more glibly than was necessary.

   "The first time.  In seventh grade, when she thought I was messing
around with Paula."

   Traci nodded.  "Did you?  You and Paula, I mean.  Ann thought..."

   "Not going there," I said firmly.  "The point is, Tami thought something
happened.  She was mad, and she wouldn't talk to me." And she's listening
right now, I thought, as I noticed some movement in the utility room that
connected the kitchen to the hall.

   "I remember," Traci said and shoveled some more eggs into her mouth.

   "It really threw me.  I mean, I didn't realize that I loved her yet, but
she was still special to me.  She was more than just a girl, she was a
friend.  A friend that wouldn't give me a chance to explain.  A friend who
was hurting.  A friend who felt betrayed."

   "I remember," Traci repeated softly.

   "It threw my whole life out of whack.  It happened on a Thursday, and I
was lucky there was no school that Friday 'cause my GPA probably would have
taken a huge hit.  I know my baseball did.  I played probably the worst
game of my life.  Hell, the coach pulled me from the second game.  I sat on
the bench.  I hadn't sat out a whole ...  anyway, like I said, it threw my
whole life out of whack."

   "I know how you felt."

   I nodded.  "My whole weekend was just ...  unfocused.  I couldn't do
anything.  Couldn't concentrate on anything.  Then that Monday, something
happened that helped.  That made me focus."

   "What?"

   "This little brat I knew came up and asked me, in an annoying sing-song
kind of voice, if I'd had a fight with my girlfriend.  I hit her.  I hit
her as hard as I could."

   I waited for Traci to make the connection.  It didn't take long.

   "I remember that," she said loudly, getting mad all over again.  "I was
just..."

   "You were teasing and you just chose a bad time to do it."

   "I..."

   "That's not the point.  The point is, I reacted in a way that wasn't me.
In a way that I felt bad about.  You made me focus on the problem, and you
weren't it."

   Traci got over her mad and nodded.

   "After that, I went over and had my say to Tami.  We didn't talk, but I
said what I wanted to say, and she heard it.  It made me feel better.  It
was a couple of months before we got back together, but at least I wasn't a
basket case.  I lived my life and wished her well.  But I lived my life."

   "What's that got to do with vaulting?"

   "I figured it was safer than letting you hit me.  All those push-ups
have made you pretty strong."

   "I don't get it."

   "When I decided to make you vault, I figured one of two things would
happen.  I figured your natural competitor would come out, and you'd do
great and really help the team."

   "Or?"

   "Or you'd mess up big time, and I would come down on you hard, which you
did and I did.  Then you put all your mad into your vault instead of
hitting your poor defenseless brother."

   Traci glared for a minute, but I looked back neutrally.  "What if it
hadn't worked?" she asked finally.

   "I would have looked like I was being a jerk to my sister, and you would
have kept moping."

   "I wasn't that bad."

   I waited.

   "Well, maybe."

   I figured there was one more step, but it would take awhile, so I stood
up, picked up her plate, and went into the kitchen and started cleaning up.
Traci got up and stood at one end, watching.

   "After you hit me, you went over and talked to Tami?"

   I nodded as I rinsed all the dishes Traci had used to make her
breakfast.

   "Do you think I should talk to Peter?"

   I put the dishes in the dishwasher, added soap, and closed it.  "I think
it all comes down to do you have something to say?  With Tami, there were
some unsaid things I had to get out.  You had a talk with Peter.  That's
what started this whole thing.  Is there more to say?"

   "I think so."

   I turned on the dishwasher and turned to face my sister.  "Then I think
you need to talk to Peter.  Or maybe, like Tami, talk at him."

   "What if he won't...  ?"

   "If you want to talk to him, I can get him here.  I can't make him
listen, but I can make him hear you."

   "Thanks, I..." Traci turned and started walking away.

   "Traci." She stopped but didn't turn.  "I think what you had with Peter
was special.  No one knows if you'll ever have it again."

   "That makes everything better," Traci said with just that gentle hint of
sarcasm that I'd come to know and love.

   "I'll bet if you tried, you could name a dozen grown-ups who just go
through the motions.  They go to work, they go home.  They drink a few
beers, or something stronger, then they go to sleep and start all over
again.  Day after day after day.  They're the people who lost something and
gave up.  They never tried again."

   "I guess."

   Damn, I wasn't getting through.

   "Like Mr.  Ramsey?" she said after a second, still not turning to face
me.

   "Exactly like Mr.  Ramsey." Ramsey had lived in our neighborhood when we
lived in California.  He worked at some kind of plant all day, then went to
a bar for three or four beers, then home for a couple more.  A year before
we moved, he went in his garage, sat in his car, turned it on, and used the
remote to close the garage door.

   Traci nodded, and I watched as she walked away through the living room.

   "You know..." a soft voice said behind me.  I turned and saw Tami there,
dressed in one of my t-shirts and nothing else.  "If I had a brother, I'd
want him to be just like you."

   I grinned.  "If I was your brother, what we're going to do in about five
minutes would be a sin."

   Tami smiled coyly, "Some people think it's a sin anyway."

   "Just the ones who aren't doing it."



   Chapter 23

   Robbie rushed in just as we were finishing the speed round of the day. I
think Mrs.  Conners was picking on me 'cause my topics were women shouldn't
be allowed to serve in the military and women are too emotional to be
president, especially once a month.  Robbie nodded to Mrs.  Conners but
didn't offer any explanation.

   Robbie's got a wonderful face.  It can be almost miraculously expressive
when she sings or acts or as stoic as any Easter Island monolith when she's
keeping her own counsel.  Right now she was playing monolith.  Except for
her dancing eyes.  That told me that something was up.  The glance she gave
me as she sat down said I wasn't going to like it.

   Mr.  Reed walked in while Mrs.  Conners was assigning topics for our
team debates on Thursday.  We got the con side of government services of
illegal aliens, which should be easy.  When she'd finished, Mrs.  Conners
looked at Mr.  Reed.

   He smiled.  "I was wondering if I could borrow Mr.  Sims for a few
minutes.

   Mrs.  Conners looked at me and smiled at the expression on my face. 
"I'm not sure he wants to be borrowed."

   "If I spend much more time in the office during this period, I may not
pass," I complained.

   "Just give him half of Tami's participation," Reed suggested with a
chuckle.  "He doesn't have opinions until she gives them to him anyway."

   I felt my cheeks burn as Mrs.  Conners grinned and nodded toward the
door.  I ignored the laughter behind me as I left.

   I'd managed to get rid of Parker.  Maybe it was time to start working on
Mr.  Reed.

   We walked down the hall and into the office without comment, and he
flicked a finger toward the open door of the conference room.  "In there."
He hesitated and then added, "Tony, I expect you to be polite, but you
don't have to stay any longer than you want to."

   I sighed.  "Wa-say again?"

   "Not this time." He walked over to the mail area and started checking
his slot.

   I walked in, not knowing what to expect.  A woman was sitting at the
table with her back to me.  "Hi, I'm Tony," I said.  She turned in her
chair, and I realized it was Allie's mom.  Now I realized why Mr.  Reed had
said to be polite: he knew we had a history.  I walked around the table and
sat down opposite her.

   "Tony," she acknowledged.

   "Mrs.  Schmidt," I said and waited.  It was her dime.

   "I talked to Roberta.  She said you make these decisions." Robbie was
letting me make decisions?  That explained the gleam in her eye.  I
wondered if it was because Allie's mom called her Roberta or other reasons.

   "What decisions?"

   "As I'm sure you know," she said, preening, "I am the chairman of the
county historical society."

   I knew that, but wasn't going to make it easier for her.  Allie still
wouldn't talk to her after the way she'd felt betrayed during the cheating
incident.  "I didn't even know we had a historical society.  You never hear
about them.  They must not do anything."

   Allie's mom looked annoyed, which suited me just fine.

   "We do plenty.  Teenagers don't bother reading the newspaper and knowing
what's going on around town."

   For someone who wanted a favor, she had a funny way of going about it.
"Actually, I read the paper at least three times a week.  I never miss Tami
Sharp's column.  She's a teenager you know."

   "That's beside the point."

   Ever notice that when someone says something is beside the point, it's
because they don't want to acknowledge the point you just made?  "So,
what's the point?"

   "I know you're a friend of Alison's.  As chairman, I thought I would
give you the opportunity to let you and your friends perform at our
benefit." Translation: we need somebody popular.

   "Gee, that's swell," I said with a straight face.  "But we're just kids.
We wouldn't want to ruin anything."

   "I'll be supervising you to make sure that nothing goes wrong."

   Like that's going to happen.  "What's the benefit for?" I asked to
change the subject while I decided how to handle this.

   "The Sugarman house."

   "That monstrosity!"

   Mrs.  Schmidt looked pained.  "The house is an historical as well as
architectural landmark and should be preserved.  Though I can't expect
someone as young as you to recognize that."

   Damn funny way of asking for a favor.

   "And just how is it historical?" This could be fun.

   Mrs.  Schmidt sniffed disdainfully.  "I would have thought they'd teach
you that in school.  Cyrus Sugarman built the house for himself and his new
bride when he was assigned to command the garrison here."

   "And that makes it historical?"

   "He was an important figure in our history."

   I grinned.  "Cyrus Sugarman was a colonel who was assigned here shortly
after the Civil War because the War Department couldn't fire him.  His
father was a U.S.  Senator and his uncle an influential presidential
advisor.  They figured he would do the least amount of harm up here."

   "Really!"

   "Yes, really.  His one claim to fame is attempting to invade British
Columbia at a time when we weren't at war with Canada and having his four
troops routed by three Mounties and a pair of Indian scouts."

   The look on her face told me she was aware of the colonel's history and
didn't have anything significant to add.  I decided to rub salt in the
wound.  "Of course the house does have some REAL historical significance."

   I leaned back in my chair, interlaced my fingers and tried to look
satisfied.  "During World War Two, it was the largest cat house in the
Northwest.  Soldiers, sailors, and shipbuilders came from all over.  Great
morale booster."

   Mrs.  Schmidt sniffed again.  "I'm not surprised you know that bit of
trivia.  Men are all alike."

   I wondered if she'd be surprised that I learned it from Robbie.

   Mrs.  Schmidt's scowl turned into a smile.  I could almost see the
wheels turning in her head as she decided that you can catch more flies
with honey, etc, etc.  "About the benefit, we were thinking..."

   "Just out of curiosity, how is it architecturally significant?"

   "It's unique," she said as if it was obvious.

   I nodded.  It was that.  "Just because something's unique, doesn't make
it significant.  Or worthy of saving," I pointed out.

   The look she gave me made it obvious that Mrs.  Schmidt was of the
"children should be seen and not heard" school of philosophy.

   "Then you're not interested," she said, standing.

   "I didn't say that.  When and where were you planning your benefit?"

   Mrs.  Schmidt sat back down.  "Friday.  We wanted to do it at the
Sugarman estate if the weather's nice, or the Elk's ballroom if it looks
like rain."

   "Friday!  That's not much time.  Why the rush?"

   "The city council is planning to discuss the Sugarman property at a
special meeting next Tuesday.  They own it.  We thought this would put some
pressure on them as well as raise money for the preservation of the
estate."

   Something about next Tuesday tugged at the back of my head, but I
couldn't put my finger on it.  Mrs.  Schmidt was droning on, but I tuned
her out.  Why would I know something about a city council meeting next
Tuesday?  Where would I have heard about it?  Then it hit me.  Proofing
Tami's column.  The city wanted to build a youth recreation center.  And
now I knew where.

   So it came down to doing a benefit to preserve something that would be
better off knocked to the ground and preventing something the area
desperately needed.

   I held up my hand to stop her speech.  "We'll do it," I said smiling.

   "That's wonderful.  We just need you and your group for four or five
songs.  We already have the Youth Chorale and the City Orchestia."

   Oh, boy.  "We'll go last.  Definitely three songs and maybe four."

   "Okay," she said, looking at me a little suspiciously.

   "I sure hope the weather cooperates."

   Mrs.  Schmidt nodded as she stood.  "Uh, just let us know what you
need."

   "I'll do that." I looked down at the table, then snagged a yellow legal
pad from the center.  I ignored her and started making notes.  After a
minute she left.  I had the perfect songs for Traci, Robbie, and me.

   Now if Sally or her brother could write one about cat houses in three
days.

   Maybe I could watch Best Little Whorehouse in Texas again and steal one
of theirs.



   Chapter 24

   "Nobody out, man on first!" I shouted, then tossed the baseball in the
air and smacked it toward Elvis Carson, who was playing first.  The
freshman snagged it on one bounce, spun, and raced toward first, tagging it
easily.

   He looked at me, tossing the baseball up and down and grinning like he'd
just been named Rookie of the Year in the American League.

   "Great play," I yelled.  Impossibly, his grin got bigger.  "We now have
a man in scoring position with only one out." His face fell.  "I know Mr.
Hollowell mentioned getting the lead runner at least once or twice last
year." He'd better have.  I taught him.

   "Yeah, lard butt," yelled the freshman on the pitcher's mound, Danny
something.

   "Guess what, lard butt junior." Danny looked around until he realized I
was yelling at him.  "Guess who was supposed to be sprinting to cover first
if Elvis had thrown to second like he was supposed to?"

   Danny looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it.  "Take a
lap," I yelled.  I looked at my reserves over by the third base dugout. 
"Jason, take the mound."

   "I'm not a pitcher," Jason said walking to the base line but not
crossing.

   "And if I ask you to pitch, you can remind me of that."

   Jason ran to the mound.

   "Freshmen," I muttered under my breath.  "Let's try that play again."
And again.  And again.  "Okay, time out," I said finally.

   I looked over at the batting cage.  "Coach, can I borrow Robbie, Ricky,
and Jake for a minute?"

   Coach Calloway nodded, though Robbie already had a batting helmet on and
looked like she was next.

   "Infield in," I yelled while the three trotted over.  "You, too," I
added when the reserves didn't move.  "The problem is you're throwing the
ball to where people are instead of where they're going to be." I explained
when they were gathered around me.  "Watch."

   Ricky had taken position by first, and Jake was on the mound.  Robbie,
still wearing a batting helmet, was playing second.  "Nobody out, man on
first," I yelled and hit a hard one bouncer about fifteen feet to Ricky's
right.  Ricky charged forward, snagged the ball and without appearing to
look, fired it to second.  Robbie took the throw about a foot behind
second, stepped forward onto the bag, and fired to Jake's waiting glove on
first.

   "And that, guys, would be a double play in any league." I nodded to my
friends, and they jogged back to the batting cages.  "If you want to play
varsity," like that's going to happen with this crew, "you have to throw
the ball where it needs to be and trust that the other player will know
where he's supposed to be and take the catch."

   I gave them a few seconds to let it sink in.  "Now, anything wrong with
the play they just ran?"

   The boys in front of me looked around at each other.  Finally Danny
whatever raised his hand.

   "Lard butt junior," I acknowledged.

   Danny turned red.  "Shouldn't the shortstop take the throw at second?"

   I held my hand out to him.  "Junior, there may be hope for you yet. 
Normally, the shortstop would take the throw from first unless he was
playing deep or out of position for some reason.  But you noticed that
Robbie didn't hesitate.  She knew there was no short, so she played it. 
Any questions?"

   Most of them shook their heads, but one kid -- I couldn't remember his
name -- raised his hand.  I nodded.

   "Have any of us got a chance?"

   'No way in hell, ' I thought but smiled.  "Everybody's got a chance. 
Coach Calloway makes everybody try out and then picks his squad.  It
doesn't matter if you're a senior or a freshman.  If you already played
three years of varsity or never picked up a glove before today.  Ricky made
it as a freshman.  So did Robbie and me."

   "You're not trying out," Jason said, then looked surprised that the
words had come out of his mouth.

   "I will.  Since Coach Saxon, the JV coach, couldn't be here today, the
coach will have some of last year's varsity helping out.  He's over there
at the batting cage, but you'd better believe he knows what's going on over
here too.  It's only Monday.  We've got four more days after this.  Okay,
you and you, first and second..." I started moving my reserves onto the
field.

   "Sit!  Stay!  Quiet!" Tami pushed me into dad's chair while the others
grinned.

   "I'm glad to see you finally figured out how to handle him," Robbie said
while Darlene and Allie giggled.

   "I'm glad you think so," Tami said.  "Sit!  Stay!  Quiet!" she commanded
as she pushed Robbie back onto the sofa.  Robbie looked stunned.  Tami
looked satisfied.  The rest tried to keep their faces neutral while they
figured out where the nearest fallout shelter was.

   Tami ignored Robbie's look and checked out the room.  "Where's Peter?"

   "I told him we were getting together, but he wasn't interested," Mikee
explained.

   "Tony, fetch!"

   "I thought I was supposed to sit."

   When I saw the determined look in her eye, I jumped up and headed for
the door.

   I knocked, and Peter opened the door.  "What...  ?" From the look on his
face, he wasn't happy to see me.

   "We're having a meeting.  It has something to do with the play.  Tami
asked me to get you."

   "I don't think..."

   "Whatever there is between you and Traci, or between you and me, you
were and ARE a member of the play committee.  The committee is meeting,
though I don't know why.  And Tami has always been your friend, and she
asked me to ask you to come."

   He didn't look convinced, so I played my trump.  "Once upon a time, I
did you a big favor.  Now I'm asking you to do me one.  Forget about Traci
or me and just come be part of the group.

   Peter looked embarrassed.  "I, uh, I've got something on the stove. 
I'll be there in a minute."

   "Good enough." I closed the door and left.

   "He'll be here in a minute," I reported when I got back.  'I hope, ' I
added to myself.  Mikee and Tracy both looked surprised.

   It was almost a minute exactly when there was a knock on the door. 
Susie opened it and let Peter in.  Peter's eyes scanned the room, and he
looked embarrassed when they lighted on Traci and his younger sister.  "I,
uh..."

   "Good, you're here," Tami said, gliding across the room and putting her
arm around his shoulders.  "We couldn't start without you."

   "Start what?" Robbie asked.

   "We have a big problem," Tami announced after she got Peter settled
between Darlene and Allie.  Allie wasn't part of the committee but had been
hanging with Darlene after school.

   "How could we have a big problem?  The play's over.  Hell, we've already
spent the money," Robbie complained.  The committee had voted to spend our
share of the prize money on a memorial plaque for Zoe.  It had been Tami's
idea, and the decision was unanimous.  I'd sent Zoe's mom pictures of the
bronze plaque and the dedication ceremony two weeks ago.  "Since they
changed the dates, we have almost a year before the next one."

   "That may not be enough time," Tami said flatly.  I was pretty sure I
looked confused.  I know everyone else did.  "The problem is, you people
watch too much television."

   If I'd looked confused before, I must be positively slack-jawed now.

   "I..." "What..." "How..." "Are..." "We..." Everybody tried to talk at
once until Tami held up her hand for silence.

   "This weekend," Tami focused on me, "Tony watched an old Steve Martin
movie, Leap of Faith.  He got inspired and thinks he should write a play
where he can be a smarmy evangelist.  I think it's a great idea."

   Robbie looked disgusted for some reason.

   "But..." Tami added, "Also watching the idiot box this weekend, Robbie
saw an old Henry Fonda/Joanne Woodward western, A Big Hand for the Little
Lady.  Robbie thought it could be a great play, mostly 'cause she wants to
play the little lady.  And she's right.  It could be a great play."

   I thought about it.  She was right.  It was perfect since it mostly took
place in one or two rooms.  We could make it work, and Robbie would be
perfect.

   "To make matters worse, they're both thinking right now that the other
one has a great idea.

   I exchanged looks with Robbie, and we both grinned.  Tami knew us too
well.

   "They both could be great plays, either straight or as musicals.  We
could spend a whole year arguing about which one is better."

   She got that right.  In my head, I could see both.

   "But it's worse than that," Tami said.  "Someone else was watching the
boob tube.  Personally, not being one of the two top students in the junior
class, I was doing homework."

   Someone else?  I looked around, and since Traci was doing a great
imitation of Rudolf's nose it wasn't hard to guess.  Tami was looking
straight at her to make it easy for everyone.

   "Someone else watched an old movie on TV, a musical, and figured we
could change and modernize it and it would be perfect.  But since I made
the mistake of telling that person that her brother, I mean another group
member already had an idea, that someone else has decided not to say
anything even though it's the best idea of the three."

   "I thought, I meaIsathisolmovand itwoulbgreifroband
tamperfandjkjesflagulernvunireqnv." Traci mumbled turning even redder.

   I was pretty sure there were seven or eight distinct sentences in there
and she'd managed to spit it all out in about two-and-a-half seconds.

   "If anyone got that, I can get them a job as director of translations at
the U.N." I suggested.

   Traci shot me a dirty look.  "I said I saw an old movie this weekend. 
While I was watching I thought it would be a good one for our group." Traci
took a deep breath.  "It's already a musical and the songs are pretty good.
When I was watching, I thought Tami would be great as Rosemary.  And Robbie
would be perfect as Hedy."

   I tried to remember a musical with a Rosemary and a Hedy and came up
blank.

   "Then I thought about changing it and it would be even better," Traci
added.

   "Does this musical have a name?" Robbie asked with just a hint of
sarcasm.

   Traci ignored the sarcastic tone.  "How to Succeed in Business Without
Really Trying."

   It took me just a second to remember the Robert Morse classic.

   "But I thought maybe Tony could change it and we could do How to Succeed
in Politics Without Really Trying."

   I looked at Robbie.  She nodded instantly, then stood.  "All in favor of
Traci's play?"

   The ayes had it.



   Chapter 25

   "So, ya finished act one yet?"

   I turned and stared at Robbie.  "Are you...  ?"

   "Heads Up!" the coach shouted and smacked the ball in a line drive shot
right over second base.  I was off-balance but dove anyway, feeling the
satisfying thunk of a ball hitting the pocket just before I hit the dirt.
Hard.  With zero air in my lungs, I still managed a feeble backhand toward
Robbie.  She snagged the ball and zinged it to Ricky at first.  The
freshmen who'd been on the base was halfway to second and couldn't get back
in time.

   "Good play," Coach Calloway yelled.  "But if you'd been paying
attention, you wouldn't have had to kill yourself to make it." That was one
of the things I loved about the coach: his compassion.  "Tyler, try short.
Mark, take second.  Robbie, see if you can get him off the field."

   I managed to get to my knees by myself, but was happy to have Robbie
help me the rest of the way up.  We walked toward the foul line, her arm
around my back and my arm across her shoulders.  By the time we were off
the field, I was halfway sure I wouldn't need an iron lung.

   I grabbed a bottle of water off the bench, drank half in a gulp, and
poured the rest over my head.  Robbie looked like she considered an all-wet
comment but decided against it.  "Act one?" I asked, shaking my head.

   She smiled.

   "We just decided on the play last night," I reminded her.

   "It's not like it's an original." Robbie smiled even bigger.  "You're
just adapting."

   For just a second I wondered where I could bury the body.  Then I bowed.
"Madame Director, I know you want to win this time, but as your playwright,
I plan to watch the movie a couple times, then let it percolate for awhile.
I don't even plan to put pen to paper until at least May."

   "You don't use a pen.  You type on your computer."

   Now it was my turn to smile, evilly I hoped.  "You know, the only
drawback to putting you over my knee and spanking you right here, is that
outfit of yours already has the freshmen worked up.  Any more and they
wouldn't be able to catch a ball."

   Robbie wiggled her butt in the black cutoffs she was wearing.  Her red
bikini top left even less to the imagination.  "If the freshmen are the
only ones I'm working up, I may have to enter a nunnery."

   "Tony, go."

   "Every last one of them," I said smugly.  It was debate and speed round,
and Mrs.  Conners had just asked if the news media was biased.

   "I thought you liked Fox News," Tami said, surprised.  "Are they
biased?"

   "Definitely."

   "The news isn't biased," Janet Blake said from across the circle.  "Next
you'll be blaming the Jewish influence."

   "The Tri-Lateral Commission, actually."

   Mrs.  Conners tried hard not to smile, but I think she liked my sense of
humor.  "Tony, elaborate."

   I leaned back in my chair, interlacing my fingers behind my head and
stretching my legs out in front of me.  "Two examples and I think my point
is made.  The Daily Planet has two spaces left for stories, one on the
front page and one on page thirty.  Two stories come in.  One is an
earthquake in Samoa.  The other is a charity drive in Chicago.  Perry White
puts the earthquake on the front page 'cause he's biased against Chicago."

   "That's not bias," Janet protested.  "That's..."

   "That's journalism one-oh-one.  He picked the story he thought was more
important, but it's still bias.  His readers may be tired of earthquakes
and not give a hoot about Samoa but be very charity minded."

   "True," Mrs.  Conners said, turning to Janet.  "We all have biases.  If
you have a hamburger for lunch instead of a hot dog, your bias is showing."

   "But that's not what you meant when you asked him about bias," Janet
complained.

   I ignored the interruption.  "My second example.  A lot of people think
Rudy Giuliani and John McCain are going to run for president.  At the Daily
Bugle, J.  Jonah Jameson likes Giuliani and can't stand McCain.  He has
space for one more story on page one, he runs a blurb about Giuliani
cutting a ribbon on a new highway instead of McCain opening a new prison."

   "Yeah, but..."

   "I think we'll give this point to Tony," Mrs.  Conners said, cutting her
off.  Janet pouted.

   "The Daily Planet and the Daily Bugle?" Tami said as I sat up normally.

   "I wanted journalistic integrity."

   "I thought we'd have a little fun today."

   I looked at Coach Calloway suspiciously.  We hadn't had any fun at
tryouts my freshman or sophomore years.  And definitely not when I tried to
redshirt in the eighth grade.

   "As of today," the coach continued, "only two of you have made varsity.
Robbie Tate and Tony Sims."

   "What about me?" his son protested.

   "Bobble another ball at first and you'll be lucky to make the middle
school team," his dad said with a grin.  Yesterday had been a disaster for
Ricky.

   "As I was saying, Robbie and Tony have already made the team since they
won't be here tomorrow.  So, we're going to have some fun.  We're going to
have a scrimmage game, and Robbie and Tony will be captains."

   Robbie stood.  "Better give Tony's team a couple of runs to start, just
to keep it interesting." The coach smiled as I stood.

   He pulled a fifty-cent piece out of his pocket.  "Winner chooses.  Home
team or first draft pick." He nodded at Robbie then tossed the coin high in
the air.

   "Hea ...  Tails!"

   The coach caught the coin and slapped it down on the top of his left
hand.  He took his other hand away, and a shiny eagle looked up at us.

   "I'll take first pick and take Ricky, though if he screws up, not even
the middle school will take him."

   Ricky pretended to cringe, then stood and walked over to Robbie.  I knew
a pitcher was my first priority, so I grabbed Jake Fraser.  It took almost
six minutes to split the group.  When we finished I had nineteen and Robbie
had twenty.

   The coach had put on shin guards and a chest protector and was holding a
face mask.  He called us over.  "I know you have way too many kids, but bat
them all and work 'em in and out as much as possible.  If you need to call
time to switch a couple, go ahead."

   We nodded and headed for our dugouts to organize.  Since I was home
team, we had the field first.  I decided to put freshmen out first, then
rotate in more experienced players as they made mistakes.  Except I put
Jake on the mound.  Robbie had grabbed Tyler Morse, the other varsity
pitcher from last year, and I just didn't trust any of the others.

   Robbie was her own lead-off batter.  She tossed me a big grin before she
stepped into the batter's box and took a couple swings.  I had a feeling
that if my team won this was just a scrimmage, but if we lost I'd never
hear the end of it.

   Jake threw a curve to start.  Robbie brought the bat down in front of
her, her hand on the barrel, and laid down a perfect bunt.  The ball rolled
toward third just a few inches from the foul line, and my third baseman
watched it roll.

   Jake ran over, picked up the ball, and side-armed it to first, but
Robbie was already camped on the base.

   "Lard butt junior out, Elvis take third," I yelled.  Danny
Whatever-his-name slumped off the field as Elvis ran out to the field.  I
motioned Danny to me.  "What'd you do wrong?"

   "I should have moved in when she squared to bunt," he mumbled.

   "Bingo.  Watch the game.  Think about what the third baseman should be
doing on every play.  You'll go back in after a couple outs."

   Danny grinned, relieved that he wasn't out for good.

   Robbie stole second on the first pitch, and I pulled my center fielder
who hadn't been ready to back up the play if the catcher had tried to throw
her out.  I would have pulled my catcher too, but getting gear on and off
took too long.

   Robbie stole third before Tim Kreline, one of her freshmen, got a weak
one bouncer.  It should have been an easy out, but my shortstop hesitated.
That left Robbie at home laughing at me and put Tim on first.

   It was going to be a long afternoon.

   Her team had scored five before we got our first out, but the next two
outs came quickly.  I hadn't planned to bat myself.  I changed my mind when
I saw Robbie on the mound and decided to lead off.

   I stepped into the box, and Robbie and I glared at each other for
several seconds.  She threw a fastball that was belt high but a little
inside.

   "Strike one!" Coach Calloway yelled.  I turned and gave him my best
where's-your-glasses look.

   I looked back at Robbie.  She licked her finger and chalked up an
imaginary point in the air, then she wound up and fired another pitch in
exactly the same spot.

   "Strike two!"

   I shook my head and swung the bat while holding it against my stomach.
Robbie chalked up another imaginary point.  I took a couple of practice
swings for inside pitches, then grinned at her.

   Robbie wound up and fired a shot right to the low outside corner where
I'd known she was going.  I swung and connected with a satisfying thunk. 
The ball sailed over the head of the startled center fielder and bounced
against the fence.  I sprinted for first, blowing my redhead a kiss as I
rounded the bag and headed for second.  I probably could have made third,
but I stopped on second and bowed to the pitcher's mound.

   Robbie looked disgusted, called time, and changed her entire outfield.

   "Hit the showers!" the coach yelled two-and-a-half hours later.

   Robbie, Ricky, and I walked over to him while the rest headed for the
locker room.

   "So who won?" Robbie asked as the coach pulled off gear.  I don't know
about her, but I hadn't kept track.  I was too busy trying to get everyone
in and out.

   "I can't count that high," the coach muttered with a shake of his head.
I think we were pretty close, but both our scores were probably in the
teens, maybe even the twenties.

   "Should I head for the middle school tomorrow?" Ricky asked his dad.

   "Ask your coach," Coach Calloway said and nodded toward Robbie as he
unstrapped his shin guards.

   "No middle school for you," Robbie said and clapped him on the back. 
"You've got JV written all over you," she added mischievously and jogged
toward the school.

   I grabbed a fast shower, dressed, and headed for the stage.  Mr.  Reed
was letting us use it to practice for tomorrow.  Everybody else was already
there, including Robbie, who looked like she was ready for a Cosmo Girl
photo shoot.  How the hell did she do it?

   We practiced till nine, which gave us time to run through all the songs
four or five times.  I had three, Robbie two and Traci one, then we all had
the finale.

   "Think Allie will catch hell after we're done?" Tami asked as she laid
her head on my shoulder while we walked around the park.

   "From what I've heard, she hasn't said more than a dozen words to her
mother since last year.  It can't get much worse."

   Tami lifted her head and looked at me.  "And you call other people
naive."
   I shrugged.  "If it does, Darlene gets a roommate."