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From: John Wizard <johnwizard13@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Trailer Park - The Fifth Year - Part 2[06/08]: Music and Lyrics by Wizard (mf, slow)
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Date: Fri, 26 Dec 2008 06:10:03 -0500
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[Section 6 of 8]


   The Trailer Park The Fifth Year: Music and Lyrics

   Wizard


   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."



   Chapter 26

   Tami and I pulled up to the Sugarman house a few minutes after school
let out.  Robbie was seconds behind us.

   Sally Reyes was leaning against the hood of her brother's car, with Chad
Davis leaning against her.  I'm not sure when those two had become an item,
but they had.  It was sometime after the road trip, 'cause in Wyoming, she
had treated him like another brother.

   Toby was in the car, fiddling with an MP3 player.  I wondered how he
felt about his sister and his best friend.  I had a quick flash of Traci
and Robbie together and decided that I wasn't going to worry about it.

   "They haven't decided yet," Sally said when she noticed she and Chad
weren't alone anymore.

   Robbie looked at her watch.  "They better decide soon.  It takes time to
set up those pots and kettles you bang on." Sally's van was parked behind
her Toby's car.  We assumed her drums and the keyboards were inside.

   Sally shrugged and went back to inspecting Chad's tonsils with her
tongue.

   The problem was weather.  We were scheduled to do an outdoor concert at
the Sugarman house, and right now the weather was beautiful.  Sixty-two
degrees with clear skies, but the forecast was for a rain storm to hit
sometime tonight, and we didn't know exactly when.  As a backup, they'd
reserved the ballroom at the Elks Club.  It was just before four.  We were
scheduled to perform at six.  So if the rain held off three or four hours
we were good, if it didn't...

   Mrs.  Schmidt came out of the house and walked over to us, glancing
disapprovingly at Sally and Chad.  "The executive committee hasn't decided
yet."

   "We need to know," I said.  "It's going to take time to set everything
up, especially the sound system." Cousin Cinnamon was supposed to have an
electronics wiz who took care of things like that.  We had to do it for
ourselves.

   "Just be patient," Mrs.  Schmidt chided.  "It's an important decision."

   I looked at Robbie and shrugged.  She looked up and studied the sky for
a minute.  "Here," she said finally.

   "Chad, Toby, let's get set up," I said.  I knew that once Robbie had
made up her mind, the rain wouldn't dare start before eight.

   "But..." Mrs.  Schmidt sputtered.

   I'd opened the back of Sally's van and pulled out a drum.  Toby was
beside me grabbing one of his keyboards.  Chad was still playing tonsil
hockey.

   "The executive committee," Mrs.  Schmidt protested.

   "Yeah," I agreed, walking by her toward the large porch we were going to
use as a stage.  "You'd better let them know."

   Mrs.  Schmidt walked back to the house, her face alternating between
being perplexed and being annoyed.

   "You enjoyed that too much," Tami accused.  I grinned and went back to
the van for another drum.

   * * *

   It was after five by the time we got everything set up and the sound
system adjusted to Robbie's satisfaction.  Mom pulled up with the brat a
few minutes later.  Traci had had some kind of field trip today.  Then Mom
took food orders and made a Wendy's run.  I really had to put Mother's Day
on my calendar this year.  I'd really lucked out in that department.

   People were starting to arrive by the time she came back with the food,
a few glancing warily at the grey clouds that were starting to move in.

   At six o'clock on the dot, Mrs.  Schmidt stepped in front of us and
started a long-winded spiel thanking everyone for coming and supporting the
grand old Sugarman House.

   About six ten I gave Sally a nod, and she started beating out a soft
rhythm on her snare drum.  Mrs.  Schmidt looked back annoyed but then
continued.  Some people just can't take a hint.  I nodded to Chad and he
picked up on Sally's beat with his guitar.  Then Toby joined in.  Still
keeping it soft, a subtle hint that someone was taking way too long.

   "Is that a song?" Traci asked from beside me in the wings.

   "Define song."

   Traci looked annoyed.

   "If you mean, has anyone else ever played it, I don't think so.  I think
they're improvising."

   "Too bad."

   "Why?" Tami asked from my other side.

   "'Cause I can hear the perfect lyrics for it in my head."

   "Write em down," I said quickly.

   I scrunched down and walked out to Toby on the stage.  Cousin Cin had
used headsets when they were on stage at Otter Park.  It occurred to me
that my cousin might be more advanced than I was.  Not that I'd ever admit
it.

   "This is an improv, right?"

   He nodded without missing a beat, then hit some keys above the keyboard
and changed his whole sound.

   "Try to remember it.  Traci thinks she's got lyrics."

   He nodded again just as Chad jumped to a whole different rhythm with
Toby and Sally only a half-measure behind..

   When I got back to the wings, I went over to our sound board and slowly,
over a minute or two, raised the volume on the instruments and cut it for
Mrs.  Schmidt's microphone.  I think her mic had been completely dead for
over a minute before she noticed and stomped off the stage.

   From the other side of the stage, Allie and Robbie walked out holding
their own mics.  I faded the volume on the instruments down slowly, then
cut it completely as the girls got to the center of the stage.  It actually
wasn't much of a stage.  The Sugarman House had a huge porch that ran the
entire length of the front of the house and extended outward almost thirty
feet.  We'd hung canvas curtains on either side to give us wings and a
place for the sound system and other stuff.

   Allie smiled at the audience.  She hadn't originally been part of the
show but saw the speech I'd written and demanded that she got to give it.
"Thanks Mom," she said, holding the mic in front of her face.  "For that...
that...  that..." she turned and looked at Robbie.  "You're pretty smart.
What's an adjective I can use that won't get me grounded for a month?"

   The crowd of probably six or seven hundred roared.

   "You could say inspirational," Robbie suggested.

   "Daddy says I'm not supposed to lie." Allie delivered the line so
deadpan that the audience completely cracked up.  I could see Allie's mom
sitting with the other committee members in the front row and glowering at
her daughter.

   "How about insipid?" Robbie suggested.

   "I may not be blond, but I am a cheerleader." Small laugh.  "What's that
mean?"

   Robbie leaned close and whispered in her ear, holding the mic so that it
picked up every word.  "Tasteless.  Lacking in flavor."

   "That'll get me grounded till June.  Hey Tony!"

   I stuck my head out of the curtain.

   "I need an adjective," Allie whined.

   I pretended to think.  "How about innocuous?"

   Allie nodded.  "That'll work." She looked straight out at the audience.
"Thanks Mom, for that innocuous speech."

   The audience applauded.  I looked at the first row and saw Mrs. 
Schmidt's seat was empty.

   "I ain't standing next to you anymore, she'll ground me too," Robbie
said and walked off the stage.  The audience laughed again.  Allie looked
over at me and smiled.  She was having fun.

   "The youth chorale and city orchestra were supposed to perform tonight
but due to scheduling conflicts, couldn't be here." The conflicts had come
up when Allie's mom had shown up at their practices and tried to tell them
not only what to play but how to play it.  "So tonight you're stuck with
Unrehearsed." The applause made me feel pretty good.

   "We're just kids.  But we think it's great when people do something.  My
mom and the historical society think this house is historical and should be
saved.  And they're doing something about it.  They organized this concert
for you, so that you would have to think about it."

   Polite applause.

   "We thought that tonight, we'd try to pick songs that mean something. 
Not just the same old tired love songs that Tony sings to Tami every time
we let him near a microphone."

   Allie looked over at me and grinned as the audience laughed again, even
though she knew I'd written her lines.

   "I won't be singing tonight, and if you see people looking skyward and
saying thank you, they're the ones who heard me when I was in sixth grade
chorus.  Joining us tonight as a guest flute-est...  flutist... 
fluterian...  on the flute, Miss Christine Warther.

   Chris, a slightly overweight blond senior, walked out and stood next to
Chad.  He adjusted a spare microphone stand for her.  We hadn't had time to
arrange any kind of lights, so we couldn't put a spot on her.

   Allie walked off over toward me.  I gave her a quick kiss, and Tami
hugged her.  Then Robbie came out and set down a stool, and a half-dozen
first-graders sat in a circle around her.

   Chris lifted her flute to her mouth and started playing as Robbie sat
and opened a large book.  Toby had written an overture to lead into the
simple start of Robbie's song.  Mostly we needed the flute for four or five
measures at the beginning and end of the song.  Toby had said he could
sample it on his keyboard, but Robbie and I thought the real flute was a
nice touch of class.

   Chris finished her overture and started into the song itself.  Robbie
lifted the book as if showing the kids a picture.  On the last measure Chad
and Toby came in with Toby's keyboard sounding like a regular piano.

   "Listen children to a story,

   that was written long ago."

   Sally picked up a tambourine and came over behind Robbie, shaking it to
the music.

   "Bout a kingdom on a mountain,

   and the valley folk below.

   On the mountain was a treasure

   buried deep beneath a stone

   And the valley people swore

   They'd have it for their very own."

   As she sang.  Robbie kept up the pretense of telling a story, turning
pages and showing the kids an occasional picture.

   "Go ahead and hate your neighbor;

   Go ahead and cheat a friend.

   Do it in the name of Heaven,

   You'll be justified in the end.

   There won't be any trumpets blowing,

   On the Judgement Day.

   On the bloody morning after,

   One tin soldier rides away.

   "So the people of the valley,

   sent a message up the hill,

   asking for the buried treasure,

   tons of gold for which they'd kill.

   Came the answer from the kingdom.

   With our brothers we will share,

   All the secrets of our mountain,

   All the riches buried there.

   "Now the valley cried with anger.

   Mount your horses, draw your sword."

   Two of the first grade boys stood and pretended to sword fight until
Sally separated them and sat them again.

   "And they killed the mountain people,

   so they won their just reward.

   Now they stood beside the treasure,

   on the mountain dark and red.

   Turned the stone and looked beneath it,

   'Peace on Earth' was all it said.

   "Go ahead and hate your neighbor;

   Go ahead and cheat a friend.

   Do it in the name of Heaven,

   You'll be justified in the end.

   There won't be any trumpets blowing,

   On the Judgement Day.

   On the bloody morning after,

   One tin soldier rides away."

   Sally and the little kids all joined in as Robbie reprised the chorus
again.

   "Go ahead and hate your neighbor;

   Go ahead and cheat a friend.

   Do it in the name of Heaven,

   You'll be justified in the end.

   There won't be any trumpets blowing,

   On the Judgement Day.

   On the bloody morning after,

   One tin soldier rides away."

   We should have gone fade-to-black, but instead, Robbie closed her book,
stood, set it on the stool, and she and Sally walked off to the other side.
Then, one by one, the first graders stood and walked off toward me.  I gave
them each a high five, and Tami led them off to where their mothers were
waiting.

   Allie walked back out into the center of the stage as Sally came back
and grabbed the book and Robbie's stool.  I reminded myself to get the book
back.  It was my only copy of Green Eggs and Ham.  Mom said I made her read
it every night was I was little.

   "That was Robbie Tate and the theme to Billy Jack," Allie announced. 
"Next we have Tony Sims and one of his favorite Harry Chapin songs.  If any
of my teachers are in the audience, I never saw this guy before."

   I walked out, nodded to the audience, then gave Allie a kiss on the
cheek.

   "You can do better than that," came a voice from the back of the
audience where we'd planted Ricky.

   So I grabbed Allie and twisted my body, bending her backwards in a long
deep kiss.

   As I stood her back up, Allie pretended to stagger, then said, "I still
don't know him," and disappeared into the wings.

   "How come I never get to kiss the girl?" Toby asked into his mic.

   "You know, it's not fair.  Tell you what.  After the show, I'll set you
up with the cute drummer."

   Toby growled and started playing.  His keyboard was still set to sound
like a piano, but now he worked out a ragtime beat.

   "Harry Chapin died before I was even born, but I miss him.  He seemed to
have the ability with his songs to reach inside you and pull out thoughts
and emotions you didn't know you had.  And who besides Chapin would even
try to write a song about a sniper on a rooftop, or the dance band on the
Titanic as the ship went down.  When he died, he didn't leave much in the
way of money--because he did most of his concerts for charity--but I think
he left a legacy that not many entertainers have even tried to live up to.
I think this song sums up modern education."

   I looked back at Unrehearsed and nodded.  The ragtime changed into a
simpler rhythm.  Then I looked back at the audience.

   "The little girl went first day of school,

   She got some crayons and started to draw.

   She put colors all over the paper,

   For colors was what she saw."

   Tami came out of the wings wearing a jumper and carrying a big piece of
construction paper and a box of crayons.  Her hair was tied into two long
ponytails with big red and white bows.  She lay down on her stomach off to
the side and started to color.

   "And the teacher said..  What you doin' little girl?"

   Robbie, who'd slipped on a white blouse and grey skirt, strode across
the stage in front of me and started wagging her finger at Tami.

   "I'm paintin' flowers she said.

   She said, It's not the time for art little girl,

   And anyway flowers are green and red.

   There's a time for everything little girl,

   And a way it should be done.

   You've got to show concern for everyone else,

   For you're not the only one

   And she said,

   Flowers are red little girl,

   Green leaves are green.

   There's no need to see flowers any other way,

   Than they way they always have been seen."

   Tami looked up at Robbie.

   "But the little girl said,

   There are so many colors in the rainbow,

   So many colors in the morning sun,

   So many colors in the flower and I see every one.

   "Well the teacher said, You're sassy.

   There's ways that things should be.

   And you'll paint flowers the way they are.

   "So repeat after me,

   And she said,

   Flowers are red little girl,

   Green leaves are green.

   There's no need to see flowers any other way,

   Than they way they always have been seen."

   "But the little girl said again,

   There are so many colors in the rainbow,

   So many colors in the morning sun,

   So many colors in the flower and I see every one."

   Robbie reached down and pretended to lift Tami by her ear, then marched
her over to the edge of the stage.

   "Well the teacher put her in a corner.

   She said..  It's for your own good.

   And you won't come out 'til you get it right,

   And are responding like you should.

   Well finally she got lonely,

   Frightened thoughts filled her head.

   And she went up to that teacher,

   And this is what she said..  and she said."

   Tami walked, head down over to where Robbie stood tapping her foot.

   "Flowers are red,

   Green leaves are green.

   There's no need to see flowers any other way,

   Than they way they always have been seen."

   Tami and Robbie walked off as the group played a musical bridge, then
Tami came back and sat down as stiff and straight as she could on the edge
of the stage, holding just two crayons.  She put a piece of paper on her
lap and pretended to color.

   "Of course time went by like it always does.

   They moved to another town.

   And the little girl went to another school,

   And this is what she found,"

   Allie came out with a big smile and a fistful of crayons.

   "The teacher there was smilin'.

   She said...Painting should be fun.

   And there are so many colors in a flower,

   So let's use every one.

   "But that little girl painted flowers,

   In neat rows of green and red.

   And when the teacher asked her why,

   This is what she said..  and she said,

   "Flowers are red, green leaves are green.

   There's no need to see flowers any other way,

   Than the way they always have been seen."

   Allie shook her head and walked off.  Tami just kept coloring.

   "But there still must be a way to have our children say...

   "There are so many colors in the rainbow,

   So many colors in the morning sun,

   So many colors in the flower and I see every one."

   Again, we should have gone fade to black, but instead, I walked over,
held out my hand to Tami, helped her up, and we walked off.

   Allie came back out.  "The views expressed by some of our performers are
not necessarily those of this announcer or our sponsors."

   That got Allie another laugh.

   "This is the part where Darlene Carter was supposed to sing, but she
decided that strep throat was more fun.  So, once again, here's Robbie
Tate!"

   Sally had replaced Toby at the keyboards and the boys had disappeared
into the wings.  She adjusted the keyboard and had it sounding like a piano
again, and now she picked out a melody with just a couple fingers.

   "She walks to school with the lunch she packed."

   Robbie's voice came through the sound system though she hadn't appeared
on stage yet.  Now Sally was playing with both hands, but still she keep
the melody simple.

   "Nobody knows what she's holdin' back."

   Robbie walked out from the opposite wing.  Her shoulders swayed gently
in time with the melody as she walked to the edge of the stage, a place
where the low fence around the porch was broken, and sat down, her feet
dangling in front of her.  She didn't look out at the audience, but to a
place in the sky above them.

   "Wearin' the same dress she wore yesterday,

   She hides the bruises with linen and lace, oh-hoh.

   "The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask.

   It's hard to see the pain behind the mask.

   Bearing the burden of a secret storm,

   Sometimes she wishes she was never born.

   "Through the wind and the rain,

   She stands hard as a stone,

   In a world that she can't rise above.

   But her dreams, give her wings,

   And she flies to a place where she's loved.

   Concrete angel."

   I don't think I'd ever heard Robbie's voice clearer.  She sang softly,
but you could feel the power behind every word.

   "Somebody cries in the middle of the night.

   The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights.

   A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate.

   When morning comes it'll be too late."

   If I'd staged this in the auditorium, I'd have used a single spot softly
focused on Robbie.  Maybe another on Sally.  If I had, the audience would
have seen the tear as it slid slowly down Robbie's cheek.

   "Through the wind and the rain,

   She stands hard as a stone,

   In a world that she can't rise above.

   But her dreams, give her wings,

   And she flies to a place where she's loved.

   Concrete angel."

   Robbie dropped her head and looked at the ground just below her feet as
Sally started a musical bridge.  A second later, Chris stepped on stage
next to Sally and added her flute.  As the bridge finished, both girls
stopped playing and Robbie lifted her head to the sky again and sang the
next verse all alone.

   "A statue stands in a shaded place.

   An angel girl with an upturned face.

   A name is written on a polished rock.

   A broken heart that the world forgot."

   Sally and Chris both joined in as Robbie stood and sang the last chorus.

   "Through the wind and the rain,

   She stands hard as a stone,

   In a world that she can't rise above.

   But her dreams, give her wings,

   And she flies to a place where she's loved.

   Concrete angel."

   Rob Crosby may have written it.  Martina McBride may have sung it first.
But Robbie just made it her own.

   As she, Sally and Chris hugged and walked off the stage holding hands to
the other side, I doubted that hers was the only damp cheek.

   The applause was thunderous.  Then someone stood, then someone else,
then the whole audience was on it's feet and still applauding.  After a
minute Robbie came back, Still holding Sally's and Chris's hands.  They
took a bow and ran off again.

   Considering the next three songs, I was glad we'd picked an upbeat one
to end on.  I also decided to lighten the mood a little first.  I grabbed
Allie before she could go out and whispered instructions.

   Allie smiled, nodded, and stepped on stage.  The audience was settling
back in their seats.  "That was Robbie Tate with what used to be Martina
McBride's Concrete Angel.  We already have her booked on next season's
American Idol, but don't let that get around, the producers are afraid that
none of the other contestants will show up."

   The audience laughed, and across the stage I saw Robbie look shocked,
then glare back at me.  I grinned back, then whispered more instructions in
Tami's ear while Sally and the boys snuck back on stage.  After Tami
nodded, I whispered more to Traci.

   "We do have one small technical difficulty," Allie continued.  "Both
Tony and Traci refuse to follow Robbie's act.  And since Darlene is still
pretending to be sick...  shows over.  Everybody go home."

   Tami stuck her head outside the curtain and hissed loudly.  Allie walked
over, then Tami pretended to whisper in Allie's ear while Allie nodded. 
Allie walked back to the middle.  "Tami suggested that we could probably
coax Tony out on stage if we chanted his name.  But I think Tony's ego is
too big all ready.  So I figure, if we all chant for Traci, Tony won't be
able to stand for his little sister getting all the attention and will come
out.  So, Tra-ci!  Tra-ci!"

   After a second, the crowd picked up the chant, and the night echoed with
Traci's name.  I nodded to Trace, and she started walking out with a big
grin.  Just before she got to Allie, I ran out, grabbed Traci's shoulders,
turned her around, and pretended to boot her toward the wings.  Traci
pouted and ran off as the audience laughed again.

   "You can't treat me like that," Allie said into her mic.

   "Wanna bet." I looked straight at the audience.  "How many of you would
pay extra to see me put a cute red-headed cheerleader over my knee?" As the
audience started applauding, Allie squeaked and ran off the stage.

   I waited a few seconds for the applause and laughter to die down.  "This
summer, during, what Tami calls our concert tour, she found me a song that
reminded me of a girl that we all knew too short of time.  With apologies
to Rascal Flatts, I'd like to do Skin."

   As Toby played the introduction, I thought we really had to find
somebody who played the violin.

   "Sarabeth is scared to death,

   To hear what the doctor will say.

   She hasn't been well,

   Since the day that she fell.

   And the bruise it just won't go away.

   So she sits and she waits with her mother and dad,

   And flips through an old magazine.

   Till a nurse with a smile stands at the door,

   And says will you please come with me.

   "Sarabeth is scared to death,

   Cause the doctor just told her the news.

   Between the red cells and white,

   Something's not right,

   But we're going to take care of you.

   Six chances in ten,

   It won't come back again,

   With the therapy we're going to try.

   It's just been approved,

   It's the strongest there is,

   And I think we caught it in time.

   Sarabeth closes her eyes.



   "She dreams she's dancing,

   Around and around without any cares.

   And her very first love is holding her close,

   And the soft wind is blowing her hair.

   "Sarabeth is scared to death,

   As she sits holding her mom.

   Cause it would be a mistake,

   For someone to take,

   A girl with no hair to the prom.

   For just this morning right there on her pillow,

   Was the cruellest of innocent cries.

   And she cried when she gathered it all in her hands,

   The proof that she couldn't deny.

   Sarabeth closes her eyes.



   "She dreams she's dancing,

   Around and around without any cares.

   And her very first love is holding her close,

   And the soft wind is blowing her hair.

   "It's a quarter of seven,

   That boy's at the door,

   And her daddy ushers him in.

   When he takes off his cap,

   They all start to cry,

   `Cause this morning where his hair had been,

   Softly she touches just skin.

   "They go dancing,

   Around and around without any cares.

   And her very first true love is holding her close,

   And the soft wind is blowing her hair.

   "For a moment she isn't scared."

   As the music died, Allie stepped out before the applause could start. 
"This fall, Tony and the others wrote a play about Zoe.  Tony and Sally
wrote the theme song and a lot of you have asked to hear it again.  This is
Zoe's Song."

   I'm not sure I even heard Unrehearsed start to play.  I just shut my
eyes and started singing, with images of Zoe dancing in my head.  I didn't
even realize I'd finished until Tami and Robbie hugged me.  I opened my
eyes, and the audience was on it's feet again.

   I nodded my appreciation, took Tami's hand, and walked off.  I hoped Zoe
heard, both the song and the applause.

   Allie came back on stage.  I didn't pay much attention.  I just hugged
Tami, holding her as close as I could.

   "And he thought Robbie was a tough act to follow.  Poor Traci."

   Someone in the audience yelled, "Tra-ci!" and in seconds, everyone was
chanting again.  I felt good for the brat as I finally let Tami go.  I
wondered if it was spontaneous or if Allie had arranged it.

   "Ladies and gentlemen, everybody's favorite little sister, Traci Sims!"

   Traci walked out and waved, and the audience cheered.  Robbie ran out
and set a stool in the center of the stage, gave Trace a hug, and ran off.
Traci sat, hooking one heel over the bottom rung.

   Toby started the introduction, with Sally and Chad coming in as Traci
started to sing.

   "Some kids have and some kids don't,

   And some of us are wondering why.

   And Mom won't watch the news at night,

   There's too much stuff that's making her cry.

   We need some help,

   Down here on earth.

   A thousand prayers, a million words,

   But one voice was heard.

   "A house, a yard, a neighborhood,

   Where you can ride your new bike to school.

   A kind of world where mom and dad,

   Still believe the golden rule.

   Life's not that simple,

   Down here on earth.

   A thousand prayers, a million words,

   But one voice was heard.

   "One voice, one simple word,

   Hearts know what to say.

   One dream can change the world,

   Keep believing till you find your way.

   "Yesterday while walking home,

   I saw some kid on Newbury Road.

   He pulled a pistol from his bag,

   And tossed it in the river below."

   I guess I'm a cynic, but every time I heard that line, whether Bill
Gilman or Traci sang it, I couldn't help thinking that the kid on Newbury
Road was ditching evidence, not making a moral choice.

   "Thanks for the help,

   Down here on Earth.

   A thousand prayers, a million words,

   But one voice was heard."

   "One voice was heard.



   "One voice was heard."

   For the third time, the audience was on it's feet.  I walked out and
hugged Trace, with Robbie and Tami joining us and making it unanimous.  If
this had been a contest, Traci would have taken it all if Robbie had chosen
any other song.

   "All that talent in one family, and I can't sing a note," Allie said as
she walked out on stage.  "Ladies and gentlemen, Traci Sims and One Voice."
I let go of Traci long enough for her to take a bow, then hugged her again.

   "Tony said I didn't have to introduce the band because he was the star,
but Robbie said I'd better.  And since she's tougher than he is..." Allie
spread her hands and shrugged in a "what can I do?" manner.  "On keyboards,
Toby Reyes!" She waited for the applause as Toby played a couple riffs. 
"On guitar, Chad Davis!" More applause.  "And on drums, Toby's favorite
sister and Chad's favorite girlfriend, Sally Reyes." Sally turned a
delicious shade of pink as the audience applauded, but for some reason, so
did Toby and Chad.  "And finally, our guest flute-est...  flutist... 
playing the flute, Christine Warther"

   Allie took a deep breath then started reciting the speech I'd written a
couple days ago.  The one she'd seen that she said her mother would hate
and that she begged me to let her give.

   "Before the group does their last song--and we all run for cover because
those clouds are getting darker--I'd like to remind you why we're here."
She opened her arm in a sweeping motion to encompass the house behind us.
"This is the Sugarman house.  Cyrus Sugarman was the area commander here
just after the Civil War.  While Cyrus was not much of a military man, this
is the last remnant of that era since they tore down the fort in the
thirties."

   I noticed that Allie's mom had resumed her seat in the front row and
resumed her frown.

   "Cyrus's major achievement was attempting to invade British Columbia,
and let's just say that didn't go so well." The audience laughed, which
must have meant most of them took seventh grade history here.  "Something
not so widely known is that apparently Cyrus' wife Amelia found a
particular role model in Valeria Messalina, the wife of the Roman Emperor
Claudius.  Since Mom would kill me if I explained that, in the words of
many of my teachers, 'If you don't get it, look it up.'"

   That got a short laugh and I had a feeling that Wikipedia was going to
get a lot of hits tonight.

   "That's enough young lady!" Allie's mom shouted.  I wondered if she
recognized Messalina or already knew Amelia's reputation.

   "Not yet, Mom.  I haven't mentioned its use as a recreation center in
World War Two."

   That got another laugh, mostly from the men.

   "Anyway, this is a historical building and the county historical society
would like to preserve it.  Buuuuut..." She grinned.  "The city council,
who owns the property would like to tear this down and build a youth
recreation center, something the community really needs.

   "As I said in the beginning, we're just kids.  But we think it's great
when people do something.  So we're asking you to do something.  Get
involved.  If you think, like my mom and the historical society, that this
landmark should be preserved, then let the mayor and city council know. 
But if you think, like me and my friends up here, that this house should be
torn down so that a youth center can take its place, then let them know
about that too.  Or maybe you have a different idea all together.

   "Whatever you decide, do something about it.  Make a call.  Send an
e-mail.  Or both.  Send a lot of e-mail.  Whether they preserve and restore
this place, or tear it down, don't just wait to read about it in the
newspaper."

   Allie took a short bow and started to walk off, then turned to face the
audience again.  "Oh, by the way, Tami's column in the paper tomorrow will
be her arguments for a new youth center." In the front row, Mrs.  Schmidt
did not look happy.  I'd decided that our appeal for the youth center
should be low key 'cause I'd known she'd browbeat the audience with her
appeal, and her speech had proven me right.

   Allie grinned.  "I have to go home and be grounded now." As the audience
laughed she tossed her mic to Tami and skipped off.

   Tami stepped forward as Mrs.  Schmidt jumped to her feet.  "Mrs. 
Schmidt, if it will keep Allie from getting grounded forever, Tony wrote
that speech." Mrs.  Schmidt turned red and hastily sat down again.

   "As Allie said in the beginning, tonight we wanted to sing songs that
meant something.  Songs that either had a message or made you think.  One
Tin Soldier about greed and war.  Flowers Are Red about enforcing
conformity.  Concrete Angel about abuse.  Skin and Zoe's Song about a girl
who died too young.  And Traci's One Voice about hope.  We wanted to finish
with another song with meaning, but one that hopefully will get your toes
tapping too.  We did this one for the big Fourth of July celebration in
Sheridan, Wyoming, and maybe it's time to do it here too."

   Like this summer, I started.

   "Well, the eagle's been flying slow,

   And the flag's been flying low.

   And a lot of peoples saying

   That America's fixing to fall.

   But speaking just for me..."

   Robbie walked out holding a microphone and took over the song.

   "And some people from Tennessee,

   We got a thing or two,

   To tell you all."

   Traci picked it up.

   "This lady may have stumbled,

   But she ain't never fell.

   And if Al Quida don't believe that,"

   We all joined in, even Tami and Allie who'd come back on stage.

   "They can all go straight to hell.

   We're gonna put her feet back on the path,

   Of righteousness and then,

   God bless America again."

   "And you never did think that it ever would happen again.

   In America, did you?

   You never did think that we'd ever get together again.

   Well, we damn sure fooled you.

   We're walking real proud and we're talking real loud again

   In America.

   You never did think that it ever would happen again."

   My turn again.

   "From the sound up in Long Island,

   to the San Francisco Bay,

   And everything between them is our home."

   Traci.

   "And we may have done a little

   Bit of fighting amongst ourselves,

   But you outside people,

   Best leave us alone."

   Robbie put her arm around Tami's shoulders and sang.

   "Cause we'll all stick together,

   And you can take that to the bank."

   "That's the cowboys and the hippies,

   And the rebels and the yanks."

   Me.

   "You just go and lay your hands

   On a Seattle Seahawks fan,"

   The crowd cheered.

   "And I think you're gonna finally understand."

   All of us and some of the audience.

   "And you never did think that it ever would happen again.

   In America, did you?"

   "You never did think that we'd ever get together again.

   Well, we damn sure fooled you."

   We're walking real proud and we're talking real loud again

   In America.

   You never did think that it ever would happen again."

   Chad and Toby each tried to outdo the other on the bridge as everybody
in the audience came to their feet.

   "And you never did think that it ever would happen again.

   In America, did you?"

   "You never did think that we'd ever get together again.

   Well, we damn sure fooled you."

   We're walking real proud and we're talking real loud again

   In America.

   You never did think that it ever would happen again."

   "Ladies and gentlemen," I yelled.  "Don't forget to talk to your city
council and God bless America!"

   * * *

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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