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Message-ID: <58432asstr$1230289805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: John Wizard <johnwizard13@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Trailer Park - The Fifth Year - Part 2[08/08]: Music and Lyrics by Wizard (mf, slow)
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Date: Fri, 26 Dec 2008 06:10:05 -0500
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[Section 8 of 8]


   The Trailer Park The Fifth Year: Music and Lyrics

   Wizard


   Robbie and I sat in the bleachers and watched games while Tami and Bobbi
went shopping.  On the other side of the winner's bracket, The Spartans
beat the Cavaliers which meant we'd be seeing them tomorrow.

   Then the Warriors stayed alive by beating the Panthers.  The Cavaliers
weren't ready to go home yet either.  They beat the Bulldogs.

   "Are you two baseballed out?" Tami asked.  She and Bobbi showed up just
before the last out.

   "No," we answered together.

   "Are you two shopped out?" I added.

   Tami grinned.  "Not hardly, but I may need a loan."

   "I wonder what she'll use for collateral," Bobbi said with a leer.

   Robbie grabbed her by the back of the neck and started steering her out
of the bleachers.  "Obviously, I need to teach my little sister some
subtlety," she said as they disappeared.

   "And just what collateral were you planning to ask for?" Tami asked.

   "It occurs to me that I don't have a game until tomorrow at eleven.  We
have time to negotiate."

   Tami slipped her hand into my back pocket as we climbed down the
bleachers.  "Negotiate.  Is that what the kids are calling it today?"

   * * *

   The Warriors beat the Cavaliers easily in the nine o'clock game, and two
hours later we'd polished off the Spartans.  The Spartans had to turn
around and face the Warriors and just ran out of steam, letting the
Warriors ten-run them in five innings.

   Since it was a short game, the Warriors had a chance to rest before
facing us again in the championship game.

   They might as well as taken a nap.

   We put five runs on the board in the first inning, and neither of us
scored again.

   Four games and we were undefeated.

   And had a nice big trophy to take home.

   That's how to start spring break.



   Chapter 33

   "It's really over, isn't it?"

   I've never wanted to lie more.  There was so much pain in her voice.

   "Trace, I..."

   "You don't have to say anything.  I think he made it clear."

   It was Tuesday after our tournament.  I'd worked at the gym all day, and
Traci and Kelly had team.  Just before we'd finished, Mikee and Peter had
shown up, looking for a ride home.

   Peter hadn't said a word to Traci all the way home.  Hadn't even looked
at her.

   "I don't think it matters.  The boy ain't got all that long to live."
Peter hadn't said a word to me either.  He hadn't asked for a ride, just
climbed in with his sisters.  And hadn't bothered to say thanks or
acknowledge me in any way.  If there's one thing I hate, it's being taken
for granted.

   Traci smiled.  I was kind of amazed that she still could.  "Let it go."

   "Can you?"

   Traci shrugged as she got out of the car.  I got out and followed her
into the house.  We had it to ourselves again.  Mom was in Seattle and Dad
was in Olympia.  And Tami was over at Robbie's.

   "Any thoughts on dinner?" I asked.

   "Not hungry," Traci said as she headed for the back.

   She should have been.  It had been a long hard workout, and she hadn't
eaten since lunch.

   I walked down the hall to her room.

   She hadn't closed the door.  Inside, she'd peeled off her sweat-soaked
leotard and pulled on a pair of shorts.  She was sitting on her bed in the
shorts and a black sports bra staring into space.

   "You okay?"

   She blinked.  "I guess.  It just hurt."

   "I know," I said and sat down beside her.  "I wish I could make it
better."

   Traci hugged me.  "My big brother.  He'd fix everything if he could."

   I kissed her forehead.

   "I wish...  Sometimes I wish..."

   "Yes?" I prompted.

   "I wish you weren't my brother.  I wish you were just the boy next
door."

   I kissed her on the nose.  "I think that's one of the nicest things
anyone's ever said about me," I said, knowing just how she'd meant it.

   Traci kissed me on the mouth.  It wasn't a sisterly kiss.

   I didn't pull away.  At first it was because I couldn't do that to her.
But then, it was something else.  Without realizing it, my hand was full of
her bra covered breast.

   Traci moaned softly.

   There was a voice in the back of my head yelling, `Run, don't walk to
the nearest exit.' I ignored it as I pushed Traci onto her back and
continued to kiss her.

   Her nipple had grown hard under the thin material of her sports bra, and
I massaged it between my thumb and forefinger.  Her hand reached down and
started rubbing the bulge in my shorts.

   I knew there was a reason this was bad, but I couldn't remember what it
was.

   Traci's hand pushed into my shorts and enveloped my cock, and I almost
lost it right then.  I broke away from our kiss, pushed her bra up off her
tits, and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth, teasing it with my
tongue.

   Traci worked my shorts down, rolled me onto my back, and straddled my
legs.  There was a frenzied haste to our actions, as if we both knew we had
to finish before reason took hold.

   Traci worked her shorts off, then guided my rod into her tunnel of love.
She ground herself against me at a fevered pace, and almost before I knew
what we were doing, it was over.  For both of us.

   Traci lay against me, breathing hard.  "You don't know how much I needed
that."

   I looked at her as if seeing her for the very first time and wondered
why it had taken so long.

   "I needed that," she repeated.  "But it was the last time."

   "Huh?"

   "Tony, I don't want pity fucks.  I wanted that one, but no more. 
Besides, when you little head stops hogging all the blood and your big head
gets some, you're going to feel guilty.  My advice, don't.  "I think this
was inevitable.  It was fate or something.  But it's done.  And from now on
we're brother and sister.  Just brother and sister."

   "Brat," I said with a smile.

   She smiled back.  "Just like that.  My big brother who protects and,
like the song says, `watches over me.'"

   I remembered back to the Fourth of July show when Trace had sung Someone
to Watch Over Me.

   Traci stood, grabbed her shorts off the floor and a t-shirt off the
dresser and turned toward the door.  She paused and looked back at me still
lying on her bed.  "But if you want to fantasize about my body..." And with
an extra wiggle of her butt she was gone.

   * * *

   "I had sex with Traci."

   "I know," Tami said and laid her head on my shoulder as we walked.  I
wondered if I'd have any secrets at all when we were married.  Decided I
wouldn't, and also decided that I didn't care.

   "She needed it," Tami added.

   "That's what she said.  She also said it was the last time."

   "She's a smart girl.  You raised her right."

   "I think Mom and Dad would like some of the credit."

   "Fifty per cent you and fifty per cent them?"

   "More like sixty forty.  I'm a hell of an influence."

   I felt Tami nod against my shoulder.  "That you are."

   We walked it silence for a couple of orbits.

   "Are you okay with it?" Tami asked finally.

   "I am.  I think I'm surprised, but I am."

   "It was...  just something that had to happen."

   "That's what Traci said."

   Tami nodded again.  "Like I said, a very smart girl.  Now what?"

   "She said now we go back to being just brother and sister." I wondered
for the first time if maybe, just maybe, I wasn't the smartest one in the
family.

   "So what about the rest of your harem?"

   "What?"

   "You've ignored them for months.  Now that you've broken the ice with
Bobbi and Traci, do the rest of them get some attention?"

   I smiled in spite of myself.  "Why do you always ask the hard
questions?"

   "Because the easy ones are no fun."



   Chapter 34

   'Damn!  This day just keeps getting better and better,' I thought as I
saw that someone had parked their SUV in front of our trailer, in MY
parking spot.  I parked my Mustang along the side road, Lauren Chapin
Boulevard.  At that point I would have parked on Lauren Chapin herself.  I
never liked Father Knows Best, and Kitty was usually annoying.

   I grabbed my equipment bag off the back seat and slammed the door.  Then
I went back and apologized to Sally.  Yeah, I know, Mustang Sally is a
cliche, but sometimes I like cliches.

   As I walked in the door, I saw Dad in his chair and could hear Mom--or
Traci, but probably Mom--in the kitchen.  I tossed my equipment bag
disgustedly in the hall.

   "I'm quitting school," I announced loudly.  "That damn Butz had..."

   "Attennnnn-shun!!!"

   Without conscious thought, I snapped straight.  Shoulders back, chest
out, eyes forward, and barely breathing.  A few seconds later, a face
appeared in my field of view.  Though I was now an inch taller than him, he
had no trouble getting nose to nose with me.  Off to my left I heard a
giggle and knew Trace was in the room, too.

   Colonel Grandad stared at me.  I wanted to blink but couldn't.  I'm not
sure how long we stayed like that.  I think it was less than a week, but I
wouldn't put money on it.

   The Colonel finally stepped back.  "What happened on June twenty-fifth
nineteen fifty?" He asked without making eye contact again.

   "Sir!  North Korea crossed the thirty-eighth parallel, invading South
Korea, Sir."

   "And what happened on July fifth?"

   "Sir!  The Twenty-Fourth Infantry Division engaged North Korean troops
at Osan and was forced to retreat to Taejeon, Sir."

   "And on July twelfth?"

   "An ROTC cadet received highly unusual and suspicious orders to leave
college before his senior year and the completion of his ROTC and report
via military transport to Pusan as a second lieutenant.  The Marine Corps
never did figure out who originated those orders, Sir."

   I thought I saw the corner of the Colonel's mouth lift just a little in
a hidden smile but sure as hell wasn't going to mention it.

   "And despite not finishing my senior year before going to Korea..."

   "Sir!  Or starting it, Sir."

   "Or starting it." This time I was sure that Gramps was hiding a smile.
"What degrees do I hold?"

   "Sir!  You have doctorates in history and economics.  You also attended
the National War College, though I don't know if they give a degree or what
it is.  You're currently working on a masters in political science, which
you consider bullsh..." I knew Mom was listening.  "BS, Sir."

   "So, are you quitting school, boy?"

   "Sir!  No, sir.  Only a fool would quit school.  Unless of course North
Korea invades again."

   The Colonel lost the fight to hide his grin.

   "And there's only one fool allowed in this family.  Grandpa John," I
said naming my other grandfather.  Dad's dad and the Colonel were friendly
antagonists.

   The Colonel's grin got bigger.  "You got that one right, boy."

   * * *

   "Permission to speak, Sir?"

   I'd been released from attention and was sitting on one of the dining
room chairs.  Trace was sitting next to Grandpa Doug on the sofa.

   The Colonel smiled.  "You're not in trouble, so you don't have to
pretend to be in the Marines." Unlike some jarheads, according to Mom, when
she was growing up, Grandpa left the Corps at the door and treated family
like family.  But I always enjoyed treating him like the senior officer he
was.

   "I just wondered where the smart half of the couple is?" The Colonel had
two doctorates, Grandma Vickie had four.

   "She's either in Tulsa teaching a seminar on the civil rights protests
of the sixties or in Houston having a beer at her friend's restaurant."

   "Actually, in between," said Mom's voice from the kitchen.  "She called
me from the airport an hour ago."

   "Is that the restaurant that has beer from thirty countries," Traci
asked.

   "They were up to fifty-eight the last I heard," The Colonel answered.

   "That reminds me," Dad said from his chair.  When you were in Antarctica
last year, did you happen to run into a marine biologist named Gerald
Ken...?"

   "I didn't hang out with no namby-pamby scientists," Grandpa Doug
thundered.  Dad had always been a little intimidated by my favorite Marine,
and the Colonel enjoyed rubbing it in.  "I was with Marines."

   "We were just asking because we just found out Gerry Kennedy's a
cousin," Traci explained.

   "Kennedy, you say," The Colonel mused.

   "Fitzgerald or Gerry."

   "Name sounds familiar, but I didn't meet any of the science staff.. 
There was a medic though.  Something Kennedy.  Kinda cute.  If I wasn't a
happily married man..."

   I laughed.  "That would be your niece once removed, you dirty old man."

   The Colonel grinned.  "Really?"

   "Yep.  Gerry is Aunt Millie's youngest son."

   "I'll be.  Now that you mention it, I think Vickie sent him something
for his wedding."

   "He mentioned that.  Something Japanese.  I figured it was when you were
a major in Osaka."

   The Colonel chuckled.  "Yer a smart one, boy, but ya missed that by a
few years.  I got out of the Corps in seventy-eight.  He probably hadn't
even started high school yet.  It was a few years later.  I was a guest
lecturer at Waseda University.  Vickie has always been a smart cookie.  In
our travels she picks up dozens of knick-knacks from exotic places so that
she has them on hand for weddings, birthdays, anniversaries and that sort
of thing.  She kind of overdid it in Japan.  For years, everybody who got
married got Japanese figurines.

   I remembered that Mitch had mentioned a Japanese wedding gift too.

   "So how did you find out about that side of the family?"

   "It all started this summer," Traci explained.  "Tony's girlfriend Tami
decided to highjack everybody on a road trip and..."

   * * *

   "So, are you ever going to tell us just how you got ordered to Korea
when you were a cadet?" I asked before taking a bite of my lasagna.

   Gramps finished chewing.  "I've told you.  The orders came out of
BUPERS, the Bureau of Personnel in the Navy Department, just like all
orders.  They just never figured out who initiated them."

   "And you had nothing to do with it?" I asked skeptically.

   Gramps took a bite of his garlic bread and chewed thoughtfully for a
minute.  "What was it you said was the favorite saying of that spice girl
cousin of yours?"

   "Cousin Cinnamon," Traci supplied.

   "You can never have too many friends," I added.

   "Let's just say she's not the first one in the family to figure that
out."

   * * *

   "I want to hear Grandpa tell the story about Mommy and Daddy getting
married,"

   Traci, sitting next to the Colonel, kept a straight face as Dad turned a
delicious shade of red.  I was sitting on the floor across from them.

   Mom chuckled.  "I think we should save that for when Tami comes over
later."

   I'm not sure if Dad looked relieved or annoyed.

   "Dad, why don't you tell Tony and Traci about the Philippine general."

   The Colonel leaned back on the sofa.  "Well, it's a good story, but it's
classified."

   "I don't think the kids are security risks," Mom prodded.

   "Trace maybe.  She can't keep a secret." The female half of my
generation shot me dirty looks.

   "Besides," Mom continued, "you told me and Patty the story years ago."

   "Well..."

   "Please," Traci pleaded.

   "I don't know..."

   "Pleasssseeee."

   I didn't say a word.  I knew how hard it was to say no to Traci's
puppy-dog look.

   "Okay.  But bear in mind that under the National Security Act of
nineteen-forty-seven, if you repeat anything I tell you, you could be
finishing school at Guantanamo."

   "Dad, you've told that story in every officer's club in the Western
Hemisphere."

   "But those were Marines."

   "And these are your grandchildren."

   "Okay." He looked at me first, then Traci.  "How much do you know about
the Philippines?"

   "Traci can find them on a map," I said smiling, "but usually forgets the
double-P."

   The brat stuck her tongue out at me.

   "The Philippines were run by Ferdinand Marcos from about sixty-five on.
In the seventies, he declared martial law.  He said to protect the country
from communists, but others claimed it was to protect his power.  In early
seventy-eight, the Philippines held an election while still under martial
law, and Marcos's power was reconfirmed.

   "The election did not go completely smoothly, and there were a lot of
charges of vote buying and election fraud.  People in the United States
were very critical, and as a result, relations between us and the
Philippines were not happy.

   "During that summer, the CIA discovered that one of Marcos's top
generals and closest friends was being paid by the Soviets.  The CIA's head
man in the islands brought the evidence to Marcos and was thrown out of the
office, and I do mean thrown." Grandpa grinned.

   "That left us with the problem of the general.  His name was Varata.

   "The spooks wanted to have him killed, but the State Department boys
thought if there was even suspicion by Marcos that we were involved, Marcos
might throw us out of the country.

   "The story happened to get to a friend of mine, a captain named Tommy
Rawls.  Tommy came up with a plan.

   "It just so happened that I was doing a stint with G-2, that's
intelligence, and got attached to Tommy's unit, so I was there when it all
happened.  I even held the camera most of the time.

   "The general was head of the Philippines Special Forces.  Someone at
State suggested that the U.S.  and the Philippines make a training movie
about counter-insurgency techniques.  The general loved the idea.  It was a
chance for him to showcase his troops and be a star.

   "The idea was, the Philippine troops would do a jungle patrol and then
set up a camp and the Marines would attack them.  Then a narrator could
explain what each force did right and wrong.  Then the roles would be
reversed and they'd do it again.  There were supposed to be five attacks
each, two on the patrol as it moved through the jungle and three against
the camp."

   I thought I could see the plan.  "Let me guess, the Philippines special
forces weren't all that special."

   "No, some of them were very good," the Colonel corrected.  "But the
general had never bothered to learn the tricks of the trade, and he was in
charge.  Some of it's common sense and some of it's things learned the hard
way in places like Korea and Vietnam.  Little things.  The first time the
Marines hit the camp, there was a big silver sign with a four stars on it
in front of the largest tent.  That's like taking an advertisement in the
New York Times: Big shot here, please blow me up.

   "The Marines hit the general's men five times and each time, inflicted
over eighty-per-cent casualties--simulated, of course--including the
general and his senior officers.  When the Phillies hit the Marines, we
never lost more than two people--that's out of a thirty-two man unit--and
the Phillies lost fifty-per cent or more."

   "Not exactly even," I commented.

   "Not exactly," Gramps agreed.  "When we attacked, I was on the movie
camera, and Tommy told me where to keep focused.  When we got attacked, I
or one of the Marines would grab the camera as quickly as possible, though
for most of those, we knew when the attacks were coming because of our
scouts."

   "I don't get it," Traci said.  "In war games there's always winners and
losers."

   Grandpa looked at me.

   "Machismo," I said tentatively and he nodded.  "I'll bet when the film
got edited, the comments were really critical about every little mistake
the Filipinos made, but couched in flowery language that sounded at first
take like they were complementing the Generalissimo." That was how Robbie
or Cinnamon would have done it.

   "Exactly," the Colonel agreed.  "And somehow the film got on television
all over the islands.  Not everyone had television, but those that didn't
see it still heard about it."

   Traci still looked confused.

   "The Philippines is a Latin culture.  Very big on Machismo," I
explained. "It's like the Japanese and their face.  You know how in the
movies a Japanese dude is disgraced and 'loses face', then commits
Hari-Kari?"

   "Seppuku," the Colonel corrected as Traci nodded.

   "The general was disgraced over the failure of his men to stop the
marines.  I'll bet he resigned within a week."

   "Four days," the Colonel corrected again.  He caught my eye and made a
pistol out of his thumb and forefinger, then pointed his forefinger into
his open mouth and dropped his thumb.

   I nodded.

   "So it was kind of like Mission: Impossible," Traci said.

   Gramps grinned.  "But without the rubber masks and Peter Graves."

   "Peter who?"

   * * *

   Tami was sitting, straddling my legs as I sat on a chair at the edge of
the dining room.  She'd come over a few minutes after the Colonel had
finished his Philippines story.  I was massaging her shoulders while the
adults talked.  Traci and Grandpa still had the sofa, and Mom sat on the
arm of Dad's chair.

   "You have the best relatives," Tami whispered after the Colonel had
finished his story about last year's arctic, or rather antarctic, training.

   I nodded and started nibbling on her ear.

   "Hey!  Adults in the room," Mom said in mock disapproval.

   "And little sisters."

   Mom gave the brat a dirty look but didn't say anything.

   "I thought I broke you of the habit of sitting on chair arms," Gramps
said in his own mock disapproval.

   "You did.  You said when I buy the furniture I can sit any way I want. I
bought this myself."

   Gramps shook his head.

   "And Tony and Traci know better than to sit like this until they buy the
furniture too."

   We both nodded.

   "Dad, I think you should tell Tami that story that Traci wanted to hear
about us getting married."

   Dad, my dad, that is, gave Mom an 'et tu, Brutus' look.

   "I think she should know the kind of family she's getting into," Mom
added, ignoring Dad and his look.

   Dad sighed.  "And I think you and I should learn a lesson from our
first-born and take a romantic walk around the park." Without waiting for a
response, he stood and held out his hand.  Mom took his hand, and the two
left.

   "Coward," the Colonel muttered.  I guessed he was talking about Dad.

   "Let's see, Tony's seventeen, so it must have been about fourteen years
ago that your mom called and told me she was engaged."

   "Try again," I corrected.  "I've seen the wedding license."

   "Me, too," Traci added.

   "Actually, I've seen it too," Tami put in.  "And I'm not as good at math
as Tony, but when I subtracted the date from this year, I came up with more
than fourteen."

   "Did I say fourteen?  I meant twenty-one," he said with a grin. 
"Anyway, I was in Brussels visiting an old friend, your grandmother was in
Paris visiting the dress shops, and your mom calls and says she's engaged.
And not only wasn't the guy a Marine, he wasn't even a swabbie or Air
Farce. Not even a grunt.  AND...  well, the shame of it all--but Tami
darling, you have to know if you're going to marry that guy you're sitting
on--his parents were Democrats.  Even voted for that damned peanut farmer."

   "You mean Carter?" Tami asked.

   "Shush!" Traci and I said together.

   "Around Grandpa that's a dirty word," Traci explained.

   "The amnesty and all," I added.

   "Amnesty, my great Aunt Petunia!" the Colonel bellowed.  "It was an
invitation for people to ignore their duty.  If there's ever another war
and we need the draft, everyone will just take a vacation in Canada until
the next blasted amnesty." He realized how loud he was and added, "Sorry,"
in a normal tone.

   "Anyway, I flew to Paris, then the two of us flew back to DC 'cause the
Marine Corps Ball was the next night."

   He looked at me, then at Traci.  "You should have seen your grandmother.
I was just another retired colonel, but she was the queen of the ball." He
looked misty-eyed off into space for a minute.  I'd seen the pictures. 
Grandma was beautiful.

   "Your mom and dad had driven from college.  It was about one in the
morning when we got back to the hotel, and they were waiting.  I took one
look at your dad and said, 'Throw him back, he ain't even legal limit.' "

   I love my dad but I have to admit that physically, he ain't very
impressive.  Average height, average build, average weight, though I think
lately he'd been putting on a couple of pounds.

   "So your mom looked me in the eye and said, 'Daddy, I'm going to marry
him,' while your dad quivered in the corner."

   "Gramps." The Colonel looked startled 'cause he hates to be called
gramps.  "You're not being completely fair," I said.  "You forgot to
mention that you were decked out in dress blues with a row of ribbons that
practically stretched to the floor.  You were a pretty impressive sight."

   "And you had a sword," Traci added.

   "What's that got to do with anything?" the Colonel thundered.

   I don't think Gramps would have been intimidated by a T-Rex in full
roar. Gramps stared alternately at the three of us for several seconds
before continuing.  "So your mother said 'Daddy, I'm going to marry him,'
and I looked him over again, and said, 'Over my dead body.'

   "Your grandmother whispered something to your dad, then he stepped
forward, looked me in the eye, and said, 'Then I hope your life insurance
is paid up, so that Vickie is provided for, 'cause we're getting married.'
Then he stepped over to your mom, kissed her, and looked back at me.

   "We stared at each other for about a minute.  It would have been more
impressive if he hadn't blinked every three seconds."

   Dad never could win a staring contest.  Even when Trace and I were
little.

   "Then your dad said, 'And WHEN we get married, we MIGHT invite you if
you can do two things.' 'What?" I asked.  He said, 'Behave yourself and...'
I waited.

   "He smiled.  'Wear that uniform when you give away the bride.' I decided
then that he might not be the worst son-in-law on the planet."

   "And I'm glad you did too," Trace said.  "Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

   Gramps smiled.  "In that case honey, I'm glad I did too."

   * * *

   Gramps had gone to bed--he was the early-to-bed-early-to-rise type--and
Tami and I were taking our walk.  She was full of questions about the
Colonel.  After all, he was a hell of a guy, even in jeans and a plaid
flannel shirt.  I couldn't wait to have her see him all decked out in
blues.

   "I feel like I'm not doing my part."

   "Huh?" I replied brilliantly.

   "Relatives.  You have grandparents, your Aunt Patti, your cousins in
Colorado, and all those other cousins you don't even talk to.  All I've got
is Mom."

   "And guess what?  That's just Mom's side of the family.  Dad just has
his parents."

   "That reminds me.  Why is your other grandfather named Cooper?"

   "Grandpa John's parents were named Cooper, and they thought it would
make it easier to keep track of him."

   "Smartass."

   I grinned.

   "Why aren't you a Cooper?"

   "'Cause my parents are named Sims and they thought it would make it
easier to keep track of me." I love it when Tami feeds me an easy straight
line.

   Tami glared at me.  She has a way of seeming to stomp her foot without
actually moving.  That foot just stomped.

   "Tami, my Little Mustang, my grandparents--Dad's parents--were pretty
much hippies.  They never did the drop-out-tune-in thing or lived in a
commune, but they were as liberal as could be.  Very eco-minded, civil
rights marches, anti-establishment, the whole thing."

   "Do they know you plan to be a Republican?"

   "Yes, but so far, they haven't written me out of the will.  Anyway, when
Dad was born, they thought it was anti-woman to have a child take the
father's name, so Dad and now Traci and I are Sims."

   "Am I ever going to meet them?"

   "You never know, but probably not until the wedding.  Grandpa just
retired from teaching three years ago, and I don't think they've slowed
down since.  Last week they were doing a photo safari in Kenya, and now
they're checking out the Pyramids.  Then I think they're off to Turkey for
another archaeology dig.  When Grandpa Cooper was teaching, we'd see them a
couple times a year, but now..." I shrugged.

   "Your grandfather was a teacher?  He'll be proud when he finds out
that's what you're going to do.  It may even make up for the Republican
thing."

   "I'm not so sure," I said ruefully.  "I want to teach middle school or
high school so I can coach.  John Cooper was head of the history department
at Harvard." I'd pronounced Harvard as pompously as I could.  "He'll
probably accuse me of slacking."

   We'd stopped in front of Tami's trailer.  Inside I could see her mother
moving around and suddenly wondered if she felt slighted.  I mean we always
hung out at my place.

   "As long as you don't slack on my goodnight kiss," Tami said breaking my
train of thought.

   I think I did my whole family proud.



   Chapter 35

   "I see you decided to show up after all."

   I'd been standing and talking to Coach Calloway and Doug Mendenhall. 
Doug was the plate umpire for today's game and the senior umpire for this
part of the state.  The base umpire was pretty senior too.  I guess Wasay
wasn't taking any chances.  I turned and saw Coach Rich standing just
inside the backstop.

   I looked back at Coach Calloway.  "Coach, if I call a teacher a
fat-assed neanderthal idiot will I get in trouble?  Especially since he
isn't one of my teachers.  We're not at our school.  And he is a fat-assed
neanderthal idiot."

   Coach Calloway looked tired.  "Yes, Tony."

   I looked at Rich.  "Too bad."

   "Why you little..." Rich said as he stepped toward me.  'Please hit me,'
I prayed.

   Coach Calloway stepped between us.  "Tony apologize."

   "Sorry, Coach, can't do it."

   "Two laps.  Then hit the dugout.  You're sitting."

   "That's putting the little twerp in his place," Rich smirked.

   A baseball slammed into Rich in the side of his rib cage.  He staggered
against the fence.  Coach Calloway, the ump, and I looked at the field as
Rich groaned and held his side.  Robbie shrugged.  "Sorry, Coach, it
slipped," she yelled.  "That's why spectators shouldn't be on the field."

   "Are you going to let her..." Rich moaned.

   Coach Calloway ignored him and turned to Mendenhall.  "If that person is
still on the field in twenty seconds, I'll take my team and go home." I
hadn't started running yet.  The coach ignored me and walked back to the
dugout.

   I smiled.  "By the way, Coach, enjoying your vacation?"

   Just before spring vacation the Lake school board had suspended Rich for
a month without pay for `unprofessional behavior'.  I'm pretty sure that
the recall petitions circulating the district for every member of the board
had nothing to do with them finally deciding it was time to deal with Rich.

   Rich glared as Mendenhall pointed toward the gate next to the dugout.  I
tossed Robbie a salute and took off at a trot for my laps.

   * * *

   Lake turned out to be a pretty good team.

   But not good enough.

   The final score was seven to three.

   Rich left after the fourth inning.  I think he came to see us get beat
and we disappointed him.  Or maybe it was Coach Calloway letting me in the
game in the third inning.

   Tami and Darlene had driven my car over to watch the game.  After the
game, Tami gave the coach about five seconds of her puppy-dog face, and he
let me ride back with them instead of on the bus.

   Robbie didn't need to use a puppy-dog face.  I think the coach is afraid
of her.

   My parents, Traci, and the Colonel had driven up, too, and we arranged
to meet them at an A&W about a mile from the school.  Dad had seen it
driving in and--according to Traci--had been reminiscing about an
old-fashioned root beer float ever since.

   I let Darlene drive to the restaurant.  Unlike a lot of guys, I didn't
have a thing about girls driving my baby.  Besides, she'd been thinking
about buying a car of her own instead of sharing Rodrigo with Robbie.  Tami
had been thinking about a car too, but I pointed out that she usually was
going places with me or just stole Mustang Sally when I wasn't looking.

   At the restaurant, after we'd ordered burgers and root beer floats for
everyone, we talked about the game.  Robbie liked the Colonel immediately
and wasn't a bit intimidated by the old Marine.  Of course Tami hadn't been
either.  He usually only played General Patton with dad or me.

   "Not a bad game, boy," the Colonel said.  "Almost as good as when I
played ball in college."

   "I didn't know you played baseball," Traci said before I could.  I'd
heard a lot about the Colonel's military career, but now it occurred to me
that I didn't know a lot about him before the Corps.

   "Yep.  In high school and college both."

   "And you were better than Tony?" I knew Trace was just trying to tweak
me, but I still decided some revenge was in her future.

   "Good enough to have some scouts checking me out.  I probably could have
gone to some minor league club and tried to work my way up, but I'd already
decided the Corps was for me."

   "Baseball's loss," Robbie said.  "Now we know where Tony gets his
talent."

   "We knew it wasn't from Dad," Traci said, earning her a hard look from
that worthy.

   "So how far you going to get this year?" the Colonel asked.

   "Last year we got to the first round of the play-offs." Robbie gave me a
glance to remind me that I was part of the reason we hadn't gone further. A
big part.  "This year, we're going all the way."

   "You've got a good start," he mused.

   "We're one and oh in league.  Six and oh overall," I agreed.

   "Keep it up, and I'll be back for the championship," he promised.

   I grinned.  "Tell you what, bring Grandma and it's a deal."

   The Colonel looked at Mom and Dad.  "You don't beat this boy nearly
enough."



   Chapter 36

   "You've got to be kidding."

   Robbie grinned, then shook her head.  "It's perfect for your next song
in the Spring Concert."

   "But..."

   "After all, you're the Donny Osmond fan."

   I sighed.  "I made one little comment about him going from teen idol to
game show host.  That doesn't exactly make me the president of his fan
club. Does he still have fan clubs?"

   Robbie grinned again.  "Sure.  Teachers, librarians, and waitresses in
their fifties who go home, put on their old mini-skirts, and..."

   "No, thanks.  Not an image I need before I go to bed." Tami was on an
overnight field trip, and Robbie was walking the park with me.  She'd
brought her MP3 player and had just played me a song.

   Robbie shrugged.  Evidently images like that didn't bother her.

   "But C'mon Marianne?" I complained.  "And it was disco."

   "It's perfect.  Besides, it was a Four Seasons song before Osmond got a
hold of it.  And you need to do something different to shake things up. 
The line: 'It was a passing thing, not a burnin' thing.' For a week before
the show we'll have Tami completely ignore you while you beg and plead. 
Then she can stand on stage as if you didn't exist while you sing. 
Everybody will be wondering who the passing fling was."

   I could imagine it, certainly better than the fifty-year-old teachers in
mini-skirts.  "Welllll, just as long as I don't have to have a real passing
fling with somebody."

   Robbie grinned again.  "I'll be your passing fling."

   I grinned back.  "You, my lady, could never be a passing fling.  You'll
always be a burning thing."

   Robbie's grin got bigger at the compliment, then her face went blank. 
"As long as you're not calling me a rash."

   I smiled enigmatically.  I'd been practicing.  It didn't work with Tami,
she'd read my mind, but maybe with Robbie...

   * * *

   "At least we get a day off."

   I knew before I said it that it wouldn't help.

   "It's not raining that hard.  We could have practiced."

   I knew Robbie was right.  The rain coming down on the parking lot in
front of us was barely a sprinkle.  We'd practiced and played in worse.  "I
think the coach just wanted a day off.  Maybe he figured we all deserved
one."

   Robbie looked at me, then back at the barely damp parking lot.  "Yeah,
but..."

   "Robbie, we're two thirds through the season and haven't lost a game
yet. And in league, we haven't won by less than three.  I think we can
afford to miss a practice."

   "I guess." She didn't sound convinced.

   "Would it help if I pointed out that you two have already broken the
state record for double plays?" Tami suggested.

   Robbie grinned and put her arm around Tami's waist.  "I knew I always
liked you.

   "I like you too," Tami said, her arm going around me, but instead of
finding it's way into my back pocket, it slid into my front.

   "And the bonus is, Mr.  Hollowell has been bugging me for weeks about
the three of us meeting with Mrs.  Bryant and him, and now we can do it."
Tami's fingers found my car keys and pulled them out.  She flipped them to
Robbie, who snatched them out of the air.  "Why don't you take Mustang
Sally and we'll meet you there."

   "We will?" "What?" Robbie and I said together.

   "What's the idea?" Robbie asked, frowning at the keys.

   Tami's hand had found it's way to it's accustomed place and she gently
guided me out the door.

   "I've got my own personal Fred Astaire, and it's a perfect day for him
to serenade me," Tami said over her shoulder as she walked me toward the
side of the building.

   "I think you mean Gene Kelly," I said after I'd followed her twisted
logic to the end.

   "Whatever.  Sing boy."

   "I just hope you don't expect him to dance," Robbie called after us.

   "I'm singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain.

   What a glorious feeling, I'm..."

   * * *

   "Have fun?"

   Robbie was waiting for us just inside the middle school.

   Tami and I looked at each other and grinned.  "Yeah, we did," we said
together.

   Robbie shook her head and led us to the teacher's lounge.  "Mr. 
Hollowell said it was okay.  There's already something going on in the
conference room."

   Robbie opened the door and walked in.  I followed, but it seemed wrong.
This was a hallowed place, only for teachers.  I know respect has never
been my strong suit, but I couldn't help waiting for a lightning bolt to
smite us.

   Robbie had no such problem.  She walked to the refrigerator, pulled out
a Coke, and plopped down in a overstuffed chair.  I looked at Tami, who
seemed as off-balance as I was.  We ignored the refrigerator and sat
together on the couch.  Robbie shook her head and smiled.

   It was a few minutes later when Mr.  Hollowell and Mrs.  Bryant came in.
Mr.  Hollowell pointed Mrs.  Bryant to a chair, then went to the fridge and
got pops for them both.  He looked at me, and I shook my head.  I guess
Tami must have too, 'cause he sat down in another chair.

   "Mrs.  Bryant, I don't know if you know our distinguished alumni.  This
is Robbie Tate," he said nodding at my favorite redhead.  "Varsity football
and baseball, the recent play contest and one of the best GPA's in the high
school."

   Mrs.  Bryant smiled.  "I'd have to live in a cave not to know about
Monster Girl.  I think both my boys have crushes on her."

   "Mrs.  Bryant has two boys in the middle school," Mr.  Hollowell
explained.  "Dalton is an eighth grader and Michael is in sixth.  Then she
has a girl in fifth."

   I think Kelly went out with a Dalton Bryant for awhile, so she and Traci
would both know him.

   "Then this is Tony Sims," Mr.  Hollowell continued the introductions. 
"Also football, baseball, and the play.  And almost as good a student as
Robbie." Obviously he hasn't been following the class standings.  Either
that or he knew something I didn't about the new standings coming out
Friday.

   "And finally, Tami Sharp.  She doesn't play football or baseball, but
she has a popular column in the paper."

   "I wouldn't miss it," Mrs.  Bryant said and seemed sincere.

   "Mrs.  Bryant is the president of the Parent Teachers Organization."

   Damn, another benefit.  I was starting to feel used.

   "Thank you, Mr.  Hollowell.  Like he said, I'm this year's president of
the P.T.O., and we'd like your help." The look Robbie passed me indicated
she'd come to the same conclusion I had.

   "I wanted to talk to the three of you because you're all role models. 
With your football and baseball, you," she indicated Robbie and me,
"inspire all the sports nuts, yet you both have good grades too.  And I
know a lot of kids who don't bother to read your column," she looked at
Tami, "think it's cool that their parents and teachers do.  In some ways,
you're the best role model of all because even though you're still a
teenager, a, pardon the expression, kid, you're already making it in the
adult world." I patted Tami on the knee to add my agreement.  But if she
was talking role models, maybe we weren't talking about a performance. 
Besides, Tami doesn't sing.

   "I think we're buttered up now," Robbie said.

   "I wasn't buttering you up.  Well, not just buttering you up.  I was
trying to explain why the PTO wants your help." Robbie's face was neutral,
but her eyes were skeptical.

   "The PTO, in association with the national organization, is starting a
new campaign in the schools." I caught a very small shake-of-the-head from
Robbie and knew that she knew more about this `campaign' than I did.  "We
intend to start in ten days and run programs throughout the rest of the
year."

   "Just what kind of campaign is it?" Tami asked.

   Mrs.  Bryant hesitated.  "Sex education," Mr.  Hollowell supplied.

   That wasn't so bad.  I knew from experience how poor the sex education
was.  Anything would be an improvement.

   "Abstinence," Robbie amended.

   "Yes," Mrs.  Bryant agreed.  "But I'm sure you'll agree..."

   Tami stood.  "We're wasting your time.  None of us are interested."

   I was surprised.  Tami usually isn't this assertive.  Mrs.  Bryant was
surprised, too.  "Maybe you should let the others speak for themselves."

   "Trust me," Tami said.  "I'm doing you a favor.  Tony isn't always as
patient with ideas he thinks are stupid as he should be.  Sometimes his
mouth takes over when his brain should be keeping him quiet."

   I'd object, but I remembered all those cautions I'd gotten from Mr. 
Reed about in-your-face attitude.

   "And while Robbie might be more diplomatic, her sarcasm is sharper than
any knife in your kitchen."

   Robbie glanced at me and flashed me a superior smile.

   "None of us are interested in preaching abstinence to the middle
school."

   "I've read your column.  You're an intelligent girl." I could have sworn
I heard the shadow of the word 'little' in between those last two words. 
"You don't think sex in middle school is a problem?  You think these kids
are mature enough for sex?"

   "You're right.  Most of them are not mature enough for sex," Tami
agreed.

   "Then why...?"

   "There are a lot of students in college who aren't mature enough either.
Are you going to run your abstinence campaign there?"

   "Don't be ridiculous, they're adults."

   Tami nodded.  "By act of Congress, but that doesn't make them mature. 
Besides, adult is a very elastic term.  Look at drinking.  For a long time
a lot of states thought eighteen was adult enough to drink but now they all
say it's twenty-one.  English kids must mature faster because it's still
eighteen there.  In Germany and Italy it's sixteen and Portugal doesn't
even have a drinking age."

   "This isn't about drinking," Mrs.  Bryant said stiffly.

   "No, it's about maturity, and that's just one test.  My point is you
can't assign a number and magically make everyone mature when they reach
it."

   "I never said that."

   "But you think you can decide who's mature enough to have sex and who
isn't."

   "Teenaged sex is a problem.  We have to do something."

   "I agree.  It's a problem.  But abstinence isn't the solution, education
is.  You need to make sex education more realistic." I couldn't help it, I
had an image of Tami and me on top of a desk, fucking in front of a class
of eighth graders while Robbie stood to the side and explained--excuse the
pun--the ins-and-outs of the process.  I looked at Robbie, and from her
grin, she had a similar picture in her head.

   "We need to stop these kids from having sex, not teach them how."

   "How are we going to stop them, by having them take the virginity pledge
and wearing a ring or a bracelet?'

   "That's one way."

   "Doesn't work.  Most of the studies agree that pledged kids have almost
the same incidence of sex as non-pledged.  Leslie Warren, who's a freshman,
was still wearing her ring last month when little Ashley was born."

   "We can't just ignore the problem," Mrs.  Bryant demanded.

   "Like I said, education is the answer, not preaching abstinence. 
Teenage sex is nothing new, and it's not going away just because you tell
kids not to."

   "In my day..."

   "In your day, kids had sex.  Both Tony's parents started having sex in
school."

   They did?

   "So did his grandfather."

   The Colonel?  I still can't believer the Colonel ever had sex, Mom and
Aunt Patti not withstanding.

   "You probably graduated high school mid-eighties?"

   "Ninety-one," Mrs.  Bryant corrected, seeming offended.

   "How many girls in your class didn't graduate because they got pregnant?
Or had their kids in the audience?"

   "Not the good girls."

   "That's what it comes down to.  You've got the idea that good girls
don't.  Or good boys for that matter.  But I'm a role model--you said so
yourself--and I was having sex in middle school.  Tony's a role model too.
He had sex in middle school."

   So much for Mom telling me to keep being discreet.

   "And Robbie's probably the biggest role model of all, and she had sex in
middle school.  We all had sex in middle school.  We all still have sex in
high school.  We may not be--in your eyes--mature enough, but I don't think
it's hurting us."

   Tami indicated that it was time to leave.  "What it comes down to is
that all of us hate hypocrites.  So we're not going to stand in front of
your school and tell them to wait when we didn't and when we don't regret
it."

   * * *

   "You're pretty amazing," I said when we were out in the parking lot. 
The rain had stopped.

   "I'll second that," Robbie added.

   Tami grinned.  "It felt kinda good, upstaging you two."

   "As long as you don't make it a habit," Robbie said with an answering
grin.  "Did you make that up?  The part about Tony's parents and grandad?"

   Tami shook her head.  "I'm in the same debate class as you.  I can site
my sources."

   "Which are?" I asked.

   "Your sister."

   "My sister?"

   Tami nodded.

   "How would she know?"

   Tami gave me her 'you're-stupid-but-I-love-you-anyway' look.  "She asked
them."

   I was amazed.  "She just asked them when they started having sex?

   "I think they were giving her one of their sex talks, and she kind of
turned it back on them.  Your dad said he was a junior with a girl named
Marsha."

   That explained why he always said Marsha with a sigh when he looked at
his old yearbooks.

   "Your mom was a sophomore."

   "And Traci asked the Colonel too?"

   Tami shook her head again.  "She didn't ask the Colonel, she asked her
granddad.  You're the only one who treats him like he's still in the Corps
and you're one of his recruits."

   I started to protest, then grinned.  "And the Col...  I mean Gramps told
her he had sex in high school?"

   "His senior year."

   It was my turn to shake my head.  "And when did your mom lose her
virginity?"

   Tami looked shocked "My mom has never had sex."



   Chapter 37

   "We're on with the one and only Monster Girl," the disc jockey said in
his best announcer voice.  Tami reached forward and turned up the volume on
the radio.  We were driving home after she'd picked me up at the club after
I'd worked all morning.  It was the first Saturday since the baseball
season started that I didn't have a double header.

   "An undefeated season so far.  That's got to feel good." the announcer
prompted.

   "It feels great."

   "Tuesday you play Lake again, and if you win...?"

   "If we win, we sew up the district championship."

   "And if you lose?"

   "We won't, but we'd still be in good shape.  Lake has the best win-loss
record in the district next to us.  If they win and then win their next
three games and we lose to Lake and our last three games we'd be tied and
there'd be a playoff game.  If they lose even one of their last four games
or we win, then we can't be caught."

   "Last year you won district and then lost in the first round of the
state play-offs," he reminded her.

   "That's not going to happen this year." I knew it was radio, but I
couldn't help feeling that she was staring straight at me.

   "What's the outlook for the Lake game?"

   "Lake and North Lincoln are probably the toughest teams in our league,
and we've already beat them both once.  This time, when we play Lake we
have home field advantage, too.  But this is baseball, anything can happen.
As my friend Tony likes to say, `Any team can beat any other team on a
given day.' A ball takes a bad hop, the wind catches a fly ball, anything
can happen.  We should be able to beat Lake, but we'll still have to work
for it."

   "Should be a great game, I'm looking forward to it.  On a final note,
what about football next year?"

   "All the way."

   * * *

   "Your girl sounded good."

   "My girl?" We'd gotten home and were walking toward the front of the
park to get the mail.

   "Isn't she your prot�g�e?"

   "Pretty much, since the day we met, I've been wondering who was
protogeeing who."

   "Is protogeeing a word?"

   "It is now."

   Tami grinned, slipped her hand in my back pocket, and leaned her head on
my shoulder.

   "Put your head on my shoulder," I crooned.

   "I could get used to this."

   I grinned.  "I thought you already were."

   We got to the mail boxes and each opened our own.  I was curious when
Tami pulled out a large official looking envelope with her name on it. 
Tami looked guilty and put the envelope under her mother's copy of Cosmo.
She saw me looking at her and turned red.  "It's nothing," she mumbled.

   I nodded and decided she'd tell me when she was ready.  "I was thinking
lunch."

   Tami nodded looking relieved.

   "What are you going to make me?"

   Tami looked startled since I usually cooked.  "How about a grilled
cheese?"

   I grinned.  "Your kitchen or mine?"

   * * *

   "What's up, Brat?"

   "Going to a movie.  Have you seen my jean jacket?" Traci asked, getting
down on her knees to look under the sofa.

   "Not lately," I answered, not paying a lot of attention.  I was watching
a tape of yesterday's O'Reilly Factor, and he was talking about Pelosi's
latest lunacy.  I liked O'Reilly.  He and I agreed most of the time, except
about sex.  "Your blue one is in the closet.  Wear it."

   "I want my jean jacket," she said emphatically.

   A light bulb went on over my head.  "Who you going to the movies with?"

   "A guy," she mumbled, turning pink.

   It occurred to me that since I was in charge again--Dad was in
Sacramento for a conference and Mom had gone with him--it wasn't just
brotherly curiosity, it was a duty to find out more.  "Do I know him?"

   "Don't think so," she mumbled as she stuck her head in the closet and
started rooting around.  "Dalton Bryant."

   The world is too small.  "Didn't he used to go out with Kelly?"

   "That was ages ago," she said standing up with her jacket in her hand. I
was surprised she didn't yell `Ah-ha' or `Eureka'.  She looked over at me.
"This isn't a big thing, but a pretty smart guy I know said I had to get on
with my life."

   I grinned.  "Anybody I know?"

   Trace grinned back.  "I don't think so." Traci shifted from foot to foot
for a few seconds.  "Can I ask your advice about something?"

   "Shouldn't you ask one of your smart friends?"

   "I don't think Robbie's home," Traci shot back.  Robbie had once again
climbed to the top of class standings, and I'd fallen to third behind
uberstudent Tony Mather. "What do you want to know?'

   "Uh, I got this friend..."

   I nodded knowingly.

   "I mean it.  You know Darcy."

   It took a second.  "The one with the lop-sided tits."

   "They're not lop-sided, they're just..."

   My turn to grin.  "If you think of a better description, let me know. 
Meanwhile, I know Darcy."

   "She, uh..."

   "Trace, you know how I feel about secrets?"

   She nodded.

   "That includes secrets that come to me second-hand."

   "She, uh, she's thinking about taking some nude pictures of herself for
her boyfriend."

   "And you want to talk her out of it?"

   Traci nodded.

   "Isn't she the one who wants to be a lawyer when she grows up?"

   Trace nodded again.

   "This is an easy one.  Ask her what firm will hire her if they find her
nudes on the internet.  If she doesn't think they'll get there, ask her how
many pictures of other girls she's seen."

   Traci nodded again, looking relieved.

   "There are a few guys you could trust with those kinds of pictures, but
not many."

   Traci mumbled something and headed for the back.  It took me a minute to
realize she'd said "Peter."

   "Trace, one suggestion," I said a few minutes later when she came back
ready to leave.  "When you're talking to Dalton's mother, you might not
want to mention you know me."

   "What'd you do now?"

   "Not me, it was Tami."

   As Traci left, I had the distinct feeling she didn't believe me.

   Chapter 38

   "What's he doing here?"

   "Tony, in the dugout," Coach Calloway said quickly.

   "But..."

   "Tony, now!"

   Reluctantly I walked over to the dugout and sat down.

   "What now?" Robbie asked.

   "Check out Lake's coaching staff," I said nodding toward the first base
dugout.  She looked, and her eyes got wide.

   "What's he doing here?"

   "That was my question." I waited for Coach Calloway to come back.  Okay,
I didn't just wait, I pouted.

   "Okay, here's the deal," the coach said when he came back.  Ricky and
the rest of the team had joined us on the bench.  "Lake's coach, Bill
Seguerra, is out for a week because of his appendix.  Coach Rich is taking
over."

   "Why?" Robbie and I said together.  "Isn't he suspended?" I added.

   "His suspension ended last week.  And apparently everyone else had other
commitments or didn't want the job." The coach looked straight at me. 
"Everyone on the field, let's get infield."

   The team ran out, but Robbie and I sat.

   "Let's play some ball, Tony."

   Before I could decide how to answer, Robbie pulled me to my feet and
tugged me toward the field.  I took my place at short as the coach started
hitting to the outfield.

   "Look, they all throw like girls," Rich said loudly as Calvin threw the
ball into me.  I fired and accidently missed Ricky at first base.  Coach
Rich jumped out of the way just before the ball smashed into the screen in
front of the dugout.

   Rich glared and I shrugged.

   A couple minutes later I missed again.  Rich charged over to the umpire.
I saw the coach gesturing wildly and the umpire shaking his head and
shrugging.

   The rest of our infield went smoothly as Rich stayed close to one or the
other of the umpires.  Lake had already taken infield, so as we finished,
Jake took the mound and started throwing warm-up pitches.  Chet yelled
"Coming down!" and after the next pitch fired to Robbie at second.  The
throw was perfect.  Robbie caught it about a foot over the ground and
slapped it down on the bag.

   Robbie tossed the ball to me.  I should have fired to Ricky, but I
didn't.  I held the ball several seconds, then looked at Robbie.  "I can't
do this," I said quietly.

   "Don't.  Not for me."

   I smiled at my best friend.  "It's not about you.  Not anymore." I
walked across the field to Rich, standing in the third base coach's box.  I
dropped the ball at his feet and kept going toward the dugout.

   I hadn't noticed Butz and Mr.  Reed in the bleachers until they walked
onto the field.  "Get back out there," Butz ordered.

   "Not happening." I kept going past them toward the dugout.

   "You walk off this field and you won't play ball again," Butz yelled.

   I stopped and turned.  I looked around the field.  Everyone was staring
at Butz and me.  The whole situation felt familiar, and I realized that I
hadn't changed since Parker and the locker room.  I nodded.  "Okay."

   "You can't just walk out on your team," Butz said

   "I'm not walking away from my team, but I've said before that I won't
share the field with that fucking idiot."

   "Apologize!"

   "I'll apologize when you start treating students like human beings able
to have opinions and make decisions."

   "I'll..."

   I never found out what he'd do.  Dad stood up in the bleachers and
started clapping.  Robbie's dad and my mom were only seconds behind him. 
Then one by one, everyone stood and started clapping.  I turned my back on
Butz, walked into the dugout, and grabbed my equipment bag and bat.

   "You can't..." he yelled.  I looked at Butz, but he wasn't focused on me
anymore.  He was looking at Robbie who was just crossing the foul line on
the way to the dugout.  I smiled to myself and let myself out the gate. 
Tami was waiting for me and gave me a hug.

   "If anyone else takes one step, I'll cancel baseball forever!" Butz
threatened.

   From the corner of my eye I saw Ricky start walking across the field.  A
second later Chet was taking off his chest protector and helmet and
dropping them on the plate.  Jake was next.  He flung his mitt in Butz's
direction, then walked to the plate to help Chet with his shin guards.  One
by one, they all followed me to the dugout and off the field where we
stood, not quite knowing what to do next.

   Mr.  Reed looked embarrassed, and I felt sorry for him.  He seemed to
get caught in the middle of my battles with other authority.

   Butz walked to the gate and stared at me.  "You will never play sports
again." More deja vu.

   At that moment I didn't care.  I didn't want to represent HIS school in
anything.

   Mom and Dad walked up, Dad laying his arm across my shoulders.  "Put it
in writing and sign it," Dad said.

   "Make sure you include your reasons for the action," Mom added.  "If
you're stupid enough."

   Dad took his arm off my shoulder and put it around her.

   I liked my parents.

   The tableau continued for several minutes as Butz stared at me, Mom and
Dad stared at him, and the team shifted aimlessly in a circle around me. 
Surprisingly, it was Katie Moore who broke the tension.

   The six one blond senior was captain of the softball team.  She walked
up to Butz and dropped her mitt on the ground at his feet.  One at a time,
the rest of the softball team added to the pile.  The softball team had
been playing Lake on their field on the other side of the football
grandstand.  Obviously someone had run over and told them what was going
on.

   Katie walked over, put her arm around my shoulder, and started walking
me toward the school.  The rest of the two teams followed us.  None of us
said a word.

   It was too bad that the track team was at Wenatchee.

   Somebody sticking their javelin right between Butz's feet could have
been a hell of an end to the show.



   Chapter 39

   "Yo, stud, the music stopped."

   There was something about holding Tami.  We were surrounded by a hundred
other couples, but as I held her close and danced we might have been alone
on a deserted island.  I'd been looking in her eyes and had gotten lost in
them.

   "Huh?" I looked around.  The band had stopped playing, and the other
couples had stopped dancing and were applauding as Dennis Krimalaenski
walked to the center of the stage.  Ski, as everyone called him, held up
his hand and the applause stopped.

   "Last year, when I was a lowly junior," a few chuckles, "the prom got
canceled, and then rescued by three sophomores who should have known better
than to interfere with upperclass activities.  A lot of people, including
me, said it was the best prom ever." I concentrated on not turning red as
the audience clapped.  Tami was less successful.

   "This year, those same three, now lowly juniors themselves--or maybe
not, since they were voted honorary seniors last year.  Maybe now they're
honorary alumni.  Anyway, those same three took over the prom committee,
and despite rumors of embezzlement and Caribbean vacations made an even
better prom."

   More applause as a breeze blew through the park, ruffling gowns and
decorations.  Tami wore her long hair loose, and I never tired of watching
it billow in the wind.

   Ski held up his hands to quiet the crowd again.  "Most of you know the
weatherman was predicting a thirty per cent chance of rain tonight, but I'm
told that when she was helping set-up earlier tonight, Robbie looked up at
the sky, shook her finger, and said `No.' And the weather has been perfect
ever since."

   This time, I joined in the applause.  I couldn't see Robbie, but knew
she and Troy Benning were somewhere in the crowd.

   "Last year, they became honorary members of the class of two thousand
five.  So this year, I'd like them to become honorary members of the class
of two thousand six as well." This time the applause was louder, and a lot
of hands started pushing Tami and me toward the stage.  We got there at the
same time as Robbie and Troy.  I hugged Robbie, then she hugged Tami before
we joined Ski on stage.

   "Ladies and gentlemen, the double, soon-to-be triple, seniors," Ski said
with a flourish.  The three of us took a quick bow before escaping.

   "That was a pretty good hand, considering two of them managed to kill
school sports," Ski said with a wink toward us.  The crowd laughed, and I
felt my cheeks burn.

   "Not fair,"Robbie yelled.  "Katie helped." The got the laughter even
louder.  Butz had canceled the rest of the season for baseball and softball
after the Lake game, or rather non-game.  Two days later, the track and
tennis teams had walked off their fields in protest.  There'd been a lot of
grumbles from the parents and community, but the school board decided that
they didn't have enough time to adequately contemplate the situation before
the season ended anyway.

   I missed baseball.  And I was depressed that we wouldn't get our chance
at the state title that had eluded us so far, but I wouldn't change what I
did even if I could.  I'm not sure everyone on the baseball team felt the
same way.

   Ski finished talking, and the band started playing again.  I gave Robbie
a light kiss and started dancing again.

   "It's a perfect night, isn't it?" Tami murmured in my ear.

   "I can't think of anything that would make it better."

   I don't know why, maybe it was the mind reading thing working my way for
once, or maybe there was something in here body language, but I knew Tami
was trying to make up her mind about something.  I gave her her mental
space and just enjoyed her nearness.

   "Tony, remember that letter I got two weeks ago?"

   "Yep.  It looked important."

   "You wondered about it?"

   "Sure did," I agreed.  "But I knew you'd tell me when it was time."

   Tami hesitated.  I just danced.

   "It was from the Times."

   "Okay."

   "The New York Times."

   "Wow." I was impressed even if the Times wasn't my favorite newspaper.
They were a little too far left for my taste.

   "I applied for an internship, and they accepted me," Tami said softly.

   I let go of Tami and stepped back.  She amazed me.  "That's fantastic,"
I said and meant it.  "I didn't think the Times was that smart."

   Tami grinned as couples danced around us.  "It's for six weeks.  Right
after school ends," she said dropping the bad news.

   Six weeks without Tami.  I wasn't sure I could stand it.  Even in the
seventh grade when she was mad at me, I could still see her, or know she
was close.

   "You can't go." Tami looked shocked, but I knew right then that if I
asked, she wouldn't go.  I grinned.  "If they find out your boyfriend's a
Republican, they'll have you flogged."

   Tami smiled and shook her head.  "Tony, the New York Times does not flog
people." The music stopped, and couples milled near us, waiting for the
next song.

   "An exorcism, then," I suggested.

   "Anyway, I'm an independent."

   "That you are, me lady," I said with a bow and a flourish.  "But the
Times is a bastion of liberals and Democrats.  And please note that,
especially at the Times, Democrat and democracy are two different and
totally unconnected things."

   "You and Democrats.  And you call the Times biased."

   "Did you ever hear my perfect definition of a Republican?"

   Tami shook her head.

   "This was an e-mail joke one of my online friends sent me.  I don't
remember which one."

   "Probably from one of the porn groups you used to visit."

   "Could be, I really don't remember where I got it.  Anyway, a rich man's
daughter came home from college where she had picked up a lot of liberal
ideas.  At dinner that night, she proceeded to lecture her father on the
evils of being a Republican and the joys of being a Democrat.  Her father
listened patiently and waited until she ran down.

   "He looked at his daughter and asked, `What did you get in your history
class?' "

   "His daughter was startled.  `Daddy, you know I got an A.' "

   " `What did your friend Jenny get?' "

   " `Jenny barely got a C.' "

   " `I've got a great idea.  Why don't you talk to your professor and give
some of your class points to Jenny.  Then you both can get B's.' "

   "His daughter looked shocked.  `Daddy, I worked hard for that A.' "

   "Her dad smiled.  `Welcome to the Republican Party.' "

   Tami smiled.  "Maybe I'm a Republican."

   "Better stay an independent until after your internship."

   Tami kissed me.  "You're okay with it?"

   "Of course not.  I'm not sure I can live with you that far away.  I may
just fade away.  But this is too good a chance to pass up.  You HAVE to
go."

   "But the road trip?"

   "You said six weeks.  We can do a road trip after you come back.  Or we
won't.  A road trip will be fun, but this is something you need to do."

   "You are way too sensible to be seventeen."

   "I may be sensible, but that doesn't mean I won't be crying myself to
sleep in June."

   The music started again, and Tami took hold of me.  "You say the
sweetest things."

   "And you know how I feel about the truth," I added as I nibbled her
ear."

   * * *

   I hugged Mikee as we watched Tami and Robbie on the stage.  Her date, a
kid from my class who's name I couldn't remember, didn't look happy about
it.  Allie joined them a minute later and Darlene a minute after that.

   "Ladies and gentlemen, your junior court," Ski announced and stood aside
so we could admire.  I grinned to myself as I realized that my harem had
swept the contest.  A few minutes later, four seniors, none of whom I knew
well, had joined my girls and gotten their Tiaras.

   "And finally, your prom queen, Paula..." Paula's last name was
obliterated by the applause that swept the room.

   It was a perfect prom.  At least it would have been if Robbie had let me
sneak Trace in.  She was doing better.  She dated, though nothing serious.
I knew she missed Peter but she was getting on with it.

   * * *

   Two hours later the drummer--who'd graduated North Lincoln a couple
years ago--stood and walked to the microphone.

   "This has been a fantastic prom." Cheers.  "The only thing that could be
better than dancing on the grass with you is being up her playing with
Prisoners of War." More Cheers.  "Just one thing before we get to our last
couple of songs.

   "Everybody knows how we feel about shit-kicker.  Oops, forgot this was a
school.  I mean, country music.  It's even lower than opera." Some cheers,
some boos, and some laughs.  "A couple weeks ago, this guy comes to us and
not only wants us to play a shi...  country song, he wants to sing it with
us.  I said, `No way.' The next day he says he's a superstar athlete.  I
checked.  This school don't even have a baseball team." A few laughs as
people started looking my way.  "I say, `Not happening.'

   "He comes back a day later and says his girlfriend's a star columnist. I
asked how old she was, he says, `Seventeen.' I told him to take a hike.

   "Yesterday he comes back and says, `Did I mention my best friend's
Monster Girl and she could hurt you?' Ladies and gentlemen, Tony Sims and
our first country song."

   I grabbed Tami's hand and pulled her up on the stage with me.  The
drummer went back to his kit as I took the microphone and knelt on one knee
in front of Tami.

   "I come here today, I'm kind of nervous.

   You know how words get in my way.

   It should come easy, I've been rehearsing.

   I don't know why I'm so afraid to say

   Will you marry me?

   Put our life and love together.

   Will you stay with me,

   For always and forever.

   On bended knee, would you take this ring.

   Will you marry me, please?

   Will you marry me?

   To be with you is what I live for.

   But at this moment I confess,

   Though I love you, God knows I love you,

   Deep down inside I'm scared to death.

   Will you marry me?

   Put our life and love together.

   Will you stay with me,

   For always and forever.

   On bended knee, would you take this ring.

   Will you marry me, please?

   Will you marry me?

   On bended knee, would you take this ring.

   Will you marry me, please?

   Will you marry me?

   As the music ended, I stayed on my knee.  "Tamerone Elizabeth Sharp,
will you marry me?" If the crowd reacted I didn't hear it.  My whole world
was Tami and her words.
   "One year from today, big boy.  One year from today."


<ends>

-- 
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