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Message-ID: <38859asstr$1035123003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Rev. Cotton Mather" <revcottonmather@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} NEW Playing the Game II: Playing to Win Ch. 6 (mf rom)
Date: Sun, 20 Oct 2002 10:10:03 -0400
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The story continues.  Just so you all know, I have just recently completed 
writing Ch. 19, so there is a lot of story yet to tell.

My thanks to The Purvv for the proofreading efforts.  I am most 
appreciative.

Enjoy Ch. 6.  More to follow, anon.






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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 2002, 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 TO WIN:
PLAYING THE GAME, BOOK II


by Reverend Cotton Mather




- 6 -


SMALL THREATS AND INVITATIONS



All the recreational leagues were finished, and my soccer club
wouldn't start for a couple of weeks, so I was a free bird the last
part of June.  I slept in a lot, until my parents noticed that I was
unoccupied, and put a crimp in my plans on being lazy.  They left me
a list each week of chores they wanted done around the house, such as
painting the garage, weeding the flowerbeds, and mowing the lawn.  It
still left me plenty of time to keep up with my running and working
with the ball.  In addition, I was still working with the three boys
twice a week at the park.

I was very nervous about seeing Wendy the first time after the
tournament that she dropped Justin off at the park for our practice,
but she was acting perfectly normal.

"Uh, Mrs. Marcus..." I stammered.

She whirled around, looking behind her and to the sides, a humorous
glint in her eye.

"Is Arthur's mother here?" she asked teasingly.  "She's the only
person who fits the description of 'Mrs. Marcus' that I know."

I could feel myself blushing.  "Okay, then, Wendy," I reluctantly
agreed.  "The other day, at your house..."

"Oh, my, Sean, are you embarrassed?  How cute!"  She reached up,
placing her palm against my cheek.  "I could just eat you up!"  She
patted my cheek.  "In fact, if the boys weren't here..."

I backed up nervously, not wanting her touching my face.  "Look,
Mrs. Marcus," I began, but i 	wasn't given an opportunity to continue.

"Seriously, Sean, don't trouble yourself over anything," she
interrupted.  At least she didn't try to move closer to me again.
"It's just me, you know?  I just like to relive my youth
occasionally."

"But..."

"Besides," she continued, "I really enjoy the... attentions... of
younger guys.  Their ability to just keep on going is, um, enjoyable,
to say the least.  And, if I remember correctly, you enjoyed
yourself, too, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Enjoyed yourself twice, if I recall."

"Uh..."

"And I don't remember any protests at the time.  Do you?"

"No, but it was all so..."

"And I wouldn't mind an encore sometime," she steamrolled.  "That
is, if you enjoyed yourself enough to consider paying a visit on an
'older' woman," she continued with a mischievous smile.

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Ta, Sean," she said, turning back to her car with a swish of her
well-remembered backside, leaving me standing there, speechless and
practically breathless.  "Lori will pick the boys up in an hour."
She waved gaily as she drove off.

Hoo boy, what a ride on a rocket this was turning out to be.

I turned back to the boys, trying to regain a little control over
the moment, and over myself.  I had to admit it, Wendy rattled me.





During those first few weeks, Jake Lehigh and I would go out in
search of a pickup baseball game, or maybe meet up with some of our
other buddies and just goof off, riding bikes through some empty lots
across town, or hanging out at the DQ, during the early part of that
summer.  He had girl problems of his own, so it was easy for us to
fall back into our old habits together.  Oddly, I didn't see his
sister, the lovely blonde Kayla, she of the "I Dream of Jeannie"
costume, hardly at all at the time.

When I asked him about it, he looked at me kind of funny.

"I thought you knew," he said.  "Kayla's got a boyfriend."

Damn.  Another prospect down the tubes.

"Yeah," Jake continued, "he's just a pimply-faced little punk she
knows from school.  I think she's been hanging around with him and
his friends, just to have something to do this summer.  I already
told him that if I hear any whisper about him getting too familiar
with her, I'd take him out into the woods behind our house and break
both his legs."  He laughed out loud at the memory.  "Kid nearly shit
his pants when I got in his face.  He got all sweaty and blubbery,
promising me on his grandmother's grave that he would treat her nice,
which was pretty funny, considering his grandmother's not dead.  I
think I scared him into actually keeping his word."

"Hell, Jake," I said, "I'll even be glad to help you out if it comes
to that."  I punched him on the arm companionably.

We were walking down the sidewalk, headed for Josh O'Toole's house
to see if he wanted to go with us to the arcade, when we heard the
throaty growl of a powerful car engine coming up from behind us.  We
turned and watched as Joey Amonte roared by us, one hand draped
insolently over the steering wheel, the other arm across Molly
O'Toole's shoulder, holding her close to him on the bench seat.  The
windows were open, and the radio was turned up loud.  Molly's long,
strawberry-blonde hair was blowing around her face, and she was just
reaching up to brush it off her forehead when she turned and saw Jake
and me.  She stared blankly at us, then turned and said something to
Joey.  He glanced at us, and we could just see him shaking his head
as they roared out of sight up the street and around a corner, tires
squealing.

"One of the oddest couples I've ever seen," mumbled Jake.

"Yeah," I agreed.  "You know what, Jake?  Let's forget about Josh.
I don't want to run into Molly or her boyfriend today.  Let's just go
to the arcade, maybe we can call him from there."

"Okay," he said.  "The less I see of Joey Amonte, the more I like
it, anyway."

We spent the rest of the afternoon throwing dimes into the pinball
machines at the arcade, enjoying the clang and clatter of steel balls
hitting bumpers and ramps and dropping down into the wells of the
tables.



(Continued in Chapter 7)







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