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Message-ID: <38491asstr$1032995407@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP Playing the Game Chap. 4/30 (mf rom)
Date: Wed, 25 Sep 2002 19:10:07 -0400
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In advance of the posting of new chapters of "Playing the Game II: Playing 
to Win", I am reposting Book I in its entirety, to reacquaint ch'all with 
the story and characters.

Enjoy.





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Welcome to the Church of The Reverend Cotton Mather. This
story is the sole property of the author, and may not be copied or
downloaded for the intent of profit. Permission is freely given for
anyone to download or copy for their personal pleasure or use, as
long as there is no intent to charge money or barter for the
privilege of acquiring this material.

(copyright 2001, Rev. Cotton Mather)

E-Mail all comments to RevCottonMather@hotmail.com
Don't be shy!  I enjoy hearing from you.

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PLAYING THE GAME
by Reverend Cotton Mather



- 4 -

THE TREE


Later that afternoon I was scheduled to referee an under-8 boys
game.  All during the preparations for the game I kept on thinking
of my morning with Kayla.  It wasn't until kickoff that I was able
to get my mind on the game.  During the game I felt a little
disconnected from things, and afterward I almost went over to the
two coaches and apologized.  The game had ended in a 2-2 tie, so
both coaches and all the players were happy, so I opted to leave
well enough alone and ended up not saying anything to them.

As I was bicycling home from the game, I decided to ride by Jake and
Kayla's house to see if anybody was home.  Jake was bouncing a tennis
ball against his garage door, playing an imaginary baseball game.

"Hey," I said as I rode up his driveway.

"Hey," he replied as he whipped through a double-play, shortstop to
second to first, against the garage door.  "How was the soccer game?"

"Two-two tie," I said.  I caught his liner off the panel of the door
and spun it back toward him off the same panel.  "How's Kay feeling?"

"Leg's pretty good, I guess.  Better now than when she got up this
morning.  I think she's downstairs now, anyway, watching TV with
Jaimie."

He threw the ball back at the garage door for me to catch.  "Want to
do something?" he asked.

"I guess," I answered.  "What did you have in mind?"

"Come on, I'll show you something," he said.  He picked up the ball,
and put the ball and his baseball mitt into the basket on his bike,
then climbed on.  "Follow me.  I found out something that I think
you'll really like."

It sounded mysterious enough that he got my interest, so we pedaled
off into the field behind his house, into the woods on the other
side.  We dropped our bikes down onto the ground, and he led the way
along one of the many paths that kids of a dozen generations have
made through the small patch of woods.  He branched off the path and
headed off toward the edge of the woods on the other side, until he
came to a tree that had slats of wood nailed to it to make a crude
ladder.  Warning me to be quiet, he climbed easily up the tree
trunk, and then used branches to climb a little further up.  He
motioned me up, so I clambered up until I was on a branch opposite
the trunk from the one he was perched upon.  He pointed in the
direction of a house about 30 yards away, and leaned toward me
around the trunk of the tree.

"What do you see?" he whispered.

I looked, trying to figure out what it was he was showing me, but I
was stumped.

"Ummm...a house?" I asked.

"Yeah, idiot, a house.  Whose house?"

"The O'Toole house," I said.  Why was he asking me whose house this
was?  He knew as well as I whose house it was.

He looked at me as if I was the village dunce.  "And who lives in the
O'Toole house?" he asked, speaking slowly as if to a very dim child.

"Josh lives there," I said.  Josh was another of our neighborhood
gang, a good guy we both had been friends with since about the second
grade.

"And?"  Now Jake was getting just plain annoying.

"And..."  The light bulb went on, and I felt just as dumb as Jake was
thinking I was just then.  "And Heather and Molly," we said together.

Of course.  Heather and Molly were Josh's sisters.  Heather was going
to be a senior, 17 years old and drop-dead gorgeous.  She was a
cheerleader, and one of the most popular girls at school.  Molly,
Josh's twin sister, was 15 and was a slightly younger version of
Heather.  I figured that Josh had to have been walking around his
house with a perpetual boner for about the past three years, living
with those two.  He claims, however, that they are just sisters to
him, just as annoying as typical sisters.

"So what are we looking at here?" I said to Jake.

"You see the window on the far left?  That's Heather's room.  The
window on the right is Molly's.  That window in between, the one you
can see the mirror in, that's the bathroom they share."

"Yeah?" I said to him.  "So what?  The curtains are closed.  How do
you know?"

"Josh and I peeked into their rooms a couple of weeks ago," he said.
"And just because the curtains are closed now doesn't mean they are
always closed.  Understand?"

I stared at him disbelievingly.

"It gets better," he whispered.  "They never close the curtains in
the bathroom.  And the mirror you see just happens to be positioned
advantageously in respect to the very branches in which we are
perched," he finished with a smug little smile.

"Jake old pal," I said, "You are my new best friend."

"I thought I was your best friend already," he said.

"Well, you were, but you've just confirmed my good taste in best
friends," I replied.

We made plans to meet later that night to check out the windows and
headed back to Jake's house.  As we were riding back across the field
from the woods, I couldn't help but notice (now that Jake had got me
to thinking about windows and curtains) that Jaimie and Tara's
bedrooms were at the back of their house, and they lived in a ranch
house, so their windows were all on the ground floor.

The possibilities were staggering to a typical 15-year-old hormonally
charged boy such as me.

Sometime after 9:00 that night Jake and I made our way back through
the woods to the tree behind the O'Toole house.  As quietly as we
could, we climbed up the slats to the branches we had perched in that
afternoon.

"Damn!" I heard Jake softly swear.  "I meant to bring a pair of
binoculars."

"That's okay, we're close enough for now," I said.  Binoculars would
have been a great idea, though, I had to admit.

The mosquitoes were out in abundance, and Jake and I were getting
bitten up sitting in the tree.  There still was no activity in the
windows we were watching.  After about an hour, we both had had
enough of branch sitting, and mosquito swatting, and dark house
watching, so we gave it up and climbed back down.  On the way back
out of the woods, it occurred to us that maybe we should have called
Josh to make sure they were home.

"Oh, well, so I'll call him tomorrow," said Jake.

We walked back across the field and I glanced at Jaimie's house.

"Look!" I stopped Jake and pointed.  Tara's curtain was drawn across
the window, but there was a gap in Jaimie's.  We quietly crept up
closer to try to see into her room.

Jackpot!  Jaimie was there, sitting on her bed, brushing her hair.
We could hear the faint sound of a CD playing, and she was nodding
her head in time to the music.  She was wearing only a bra and
panties, and her boobs stretched taut as she raised her arms to
brush her hair.

"Oh, man, sweet!" Jake exclaimed.  "Boy, would I like to get some of
that."

"Why not ask her out, then?" I asked.

"I don't know," he whispered.  "Maybe she's just too tight with my
sister.  I can't think that anything good could come of that."

"Aw, your sister's okay," I said.

"Easy for you to say, she's not your sister," he replied.  "I guess
she's not so bad, but she's still a sister, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said.  Actually I didn't know, since I only had
brothers, but it was easier to just agree with him.

We watched as Jaimie got up and put on a robe, then left her room.
When she came back in a few minutes later and hung up her robe, we
could see she had on her nightie.  She pulled back the bedspread and
got in her bed, then turned out her light.


"Show's over," Jake said, and we started back toward his house.

"Hey, Jake, you want me to see if I can talk to Jaimie?  Maybe I can
see if she likes you, and then maybe you can get together with her."

"That's okay," he said.  "I'll think about it.  I don't know.
Christ, why is this all so difficult?  Oh, well, see you tomorrow."
He headed into his house, head hanging down.

Yeah, Jake, I thought to myself, sometimes we really make it tough on
ourselves.



(Continued in Chapter 5)






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