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Subject: {ASSM} Wynter and Brinkly Pt 1 of 3 {Hoisington}
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WYNTER & BRINKLY
Part 1/3
************************************************************
This is an erotic fantasy. It is the sequel to "Wynter and Hailey." The
characters and the situation are purely imaginary, and this story
is *NOT* intended to be a guide for actual behavior. Any
similarities between this story and actual people or actual
events you should be ashamed of are purely coincidental. If it
is illegal in your part of the world to access and read erotic
fiction, or if you are underage, or if you don't like underage
sex stories, then you should stop now.
This story is copyright 2009 by Russell Hoisington. Please do
not remove the author information or make any changes to this
story. You may post freely to non-commercial (free) sites, or in
the "free" area of commercial sites. That does *not* mean that
these stories are in the public domain, nor does it mean that I
give permission for you to use them in spam advertising. I
reserve the right to determine what is "spam advertising" by *my*
definition, not yours or anyone else's.
Thank you for your consideration.
My sincerest thanks to Denny Wheeler for editing this story and
for his contributions and also to Uncle Sky, Wizard, the Night Hawk, and
Old Man Ted for their input and for keeping the characters in
character.
************************************************************
Chapter 1
Dragon knew where his human was going before they turned down the
long, steep tunnel with the strangely rippled floor to the below-ground
cave. They were going to the chamber with the pool of hot water that
tasted bad and hurt his ears and nose. He couldn't understand why his
human would prefer that pool to the cool, running stream of fresh water
that she let him play in when they went on long walks in the place with
the trees. But Dragon's job wasn't to understand. His job was to
protect her, and that was what he did, always, and with all the devotion
his canine heart was capable of providing.
She made the area bright so that he could see and then made the
hot, smelly water bubble and splash, while at the same time it gave off
a sharp sound that bothered his ears. He curled upon the cool, hard
floor of smooth stones at the chamber's entrance while she removed her
outer skins and stood under small streams of hot water that didn't smell
as bad as the bubbling water in the small pool. After she left the
small streams of falling water she climbed into the bubbling hot pool
and sent out waves of contentment.
Dragon dozed. He dozed, but his senses remained alert, and thus he
knew the alpha male of their pack was near. She failed to sense the
alpha male's approach and was surprised when he entered the chamber.
Her surprise was followed by happiness and contentment from both
humans. He dozed again as the alpha male, who he mostly trusted,
entered the hot, smelly water.
His senses and hearing awakened him again when his human began
making sounds that sounded like pain. He'd long since learned to ignore
the sounds and concentrate on the waves of pleased emotion she emitted.
He returned to sleep, though at a lighter level this time. The alpha
male had never harmed his human, but that did not mean that he might not
try to do so at a later time. His job was to make sure that the alpha
male did not succeed.
Alert! Another male, this one from a different pack, was
approaching. The new male also brought pleasure to his human as well as
frequently bringing him a personal treat. Although he enjoyed the
latter, he never let it prevent him from performing his duty as his
human's protector.
Dragon hesitated momentarily, then decided he could trust the alpha
male enough for a brief absence. He rose, shook, and dashed from the
chamber. His human and her alpha male didn't seem to notice as both
gave off signals of intense pleasure, his human's signals slowly coming
down from a strong peak.
His pack's alpha female was in the feeding chamber as he dashed to
the above-ground cave opening where this new human always entered. She
followed him to the entrance. The female and the young new male
performed a human greeting ritual, and then the new male presented him
with a food treat and scratched his ears while speaking to him and
calling his name. Dragon accepted his treat and, tail wagging fiercely,
carried it along to the underground cave as he escorted the young male
to his human, who was giving off stronger and stronger signals of
pleasure. His human would be even more pleased when she saw the new
arrival!
Dragon stood beside the young male at the entrance to the hot pool
chamber and wagged his tail in anticipation, waiting for his human and
the alpha male standing and moving behind her to open their eyes and
greet the new arrival. His human should open her eyes and look!
He sensed sudden tension in the young male and smelled the scent of
worry from him, even though the air was heavy with the hot water's scent
that hurt his nose.
"Uh oh!" the new male whimpered. He unexpectedly turned and dashed
down the narrow tunnel that led to the underground entrance chamber,
giving off many strong emotions.
Dragon's senses were overwhelmed with the same multiple emotions
bursting from his human: terror, concern, love, fear, indecision,
apprehension. Emotions for which he didn't have names but which he
recognized as different feelings that he had experienced himself.
"JIMMY!" she barked in her human voice. "WAIT FOR ME IN THE PARTY ROOM!"
She struggled out of the hot smelly water and dashed after the
younger human male. This time she didn't put on her outer skins first.
Always before the young male had been pleased to see his human, and
she to see him. Dragon didn't understand. And when he didn't
understand a situation, he retreated to acting within the guidelines of
his primary mission: protect his human at all costs. He dropped his
food treat and raced after her.
~ ~ ~
Wynter King was at a total loss for words. That bothered her. How
could she possibly be a good doctor if she let unusual circumstances
keep her from thinking? Especially circumstances involving a moment she
knew would eventually arise though not in the manner that she'd
just experienced and had been planning for?
She rubbed the top of her right foot against her left Achilles'
tendon and forced herself to think about the current situation. She'd
worry about her shortcomings as a Future MD later. What should she say
first? "Jimmy, I guess it's time we finally had a little talk." The
words just came out without forethought or warning. She hoped that they
didn't sound as dumb to him as they did to her.
She felt the pressure of Dragon leaning against her left leg and
felt the vibration of his low warning growl. He was confused, too. She
sure couldn't blame him. That would be hypocritical. She unclasped her
hands from behind her butt and stroked his head to let him know it was
okay. He stopped growling, but his hackles remained up.
Jimmy McCauley sighed. "Yeah." He had his elbows on his knees and
didn't lift his face from his hands as he spoke. She guessed it counted
as speaking. To anyone else it probably would have seemed to be another
sigh, but she always knew what Jimmy was thinking and understood him.
"Um... Daddy's not going to come out of the hot tub while we're
down here. We should go up to my room."
"Yeah," he said again. After a brief hesitation he added, "Don't
you think you should get dressed first?"
I wish he'd look at me! "Yeah. Do you want to go on up now?"
"Yeah." But he didn't move.
"I'll... um... I'll just go get dressed now."
"Yeah."
He still sat with his face in his hands when she glanced at him
before heading down the hallway to the laundry and tub rooms. Dragon
followed, keeping his body between Jimmy and herself.
Her father sat in the hot tub looking very concerned. "How's he
taking it?"
The anxiety and concern in his voice was for her, not for himself,
because he loved her. That made her heart feel too big for her chest,
despite the circumstances. "We're going to talk in my room," she said,
toweling herself without showering first. Normally she'd never think of
dressing without a shower, but this was an emergency, and normal
procedures didn't count in an emergency.
"Your mother didn't know I was down here," he said ruefully.
"Since she was on the phone with her boss, I didn't stop by her office
first. She..."
Wynter gently interrupted him as she pulled up her underpants and
shorts. "I don't blame you or Mother, either one," she said. "I guess
if I have to blame anyone, I blame me. I should have told him before
now, but he didn't seem ready for it. Cinnamon and I have been doing
our best with his prudectomy, but we thought we needed another month or
two."
She reached for her blouse. "We sure didn't want to surprise him
like this. He was supposed to be out of town with his mom, but..." She
pulled the blouse over her head and flipped her ponytail out of the
neck. "It's not quite the same this time, is it?" She sat on a seat
and pulled on her shoes.
Her father looked worried, embarrassed, and concerned, but he never
lost the look that said he loved her with all his heart. "Well, when I
walked in on you two, everybody knew that you were sexually involved and
that everybody else knew we pretended ignorance. Nobody was shocked the
way Jimmy was just now. Honey, I'm not sure what I should do."
Finished with her shoes, she kissed him and said, "At least you
didn't make things worse by trying to do something instead of leaving
treatment to the primary physician."
He gave her a look of chagrin. "Eventually I learn. I've
certainly had enough lessons. Good luck, and I'm sorry that you're on
the spot because of me."
"Daddy, it was my idea, remember? You just wanted office supplies
from the storage closet and would be back in your office now if I hadn't
changed your mind. I love you."
"I love you, too," he said as she turned and walked quickly out of
the room, following Dragon. Her father must have thought she was beyond
hearing range when he added, "DAMN IT!"
She found Mother waiting for her in the front hall, at the
one-eighty right turn that was the top of the three steps from the
family room and the bottom of the stairs to the top floor. "He knows,"
Mother said in a soft, concerned voice before giving Wynter a quick
hug. It wasn't a question.
"What did he say?"
Mother shook her head. "Nothing. He looked at me for a moment,
just looked at me with his face blank, and then he said he was supposed
to wait in your room. His face told me everything else. What are you
going to do?"
Wynter sighed. Her ponytail lashed as she shook her head. "One of
the things I learned from Doctor Malenkov while observing in the ER is
that with trauma patients, you never know what to expect or what you're
going to do. You triage the situation as soon as possible and work on
the worst problem first, and you hope you did the right thing."
Mother also gave Wynter a look that said she loved her with all her
heart. "Only two people in the whole world are qualified to handle this
situation, sweetheart. Jimmy's fortunate that you are one of them."
"You might want to alert the other one that I'll be calling her
after my turn is up."
Mother nodded, kissed her, and said, "Your patient is waiting."
Heart heavy in her chest, Wynter trudged up the stairs behind
Dragon, hoping that whatever course of treatment she chose, she didn't
make the patient's condition worse.
~ ~ ~
The post office delivery vehicle showed up right after the kids got
home and told Pebble Watkins all about the first day of school. She'd
just sent them to change into older play things couldn't have them
tearing around in their school clothes and risk ruining them, now,
could she? when she heard the small truck stop in the driveway.
"Lord have mercy!" she murmured when she saw the size of the box
through the window. She hurried to the porch. "Marsha Beck! Don't you
have a hand dolly?"
"No need," said Marsha with a grin. "It's not nearly as heavy as
the boxes I have to wrangle into some of the businesses. There's a
couple more in the truck small ones plus the letters. Where do you
want this? I might as well put it where you want it since I have it up
and balanced."
"Oh." Pebble opened the screen door. "On the couch, if you don't
mind? Who's that from?"
"Don't know," Marsha said, flinching as one knuckle scraped the
door frame. She carefully placed the box on the faded couch, worried
that she might break the old piece of furniture, and checked her hand.
"The return address is blacked out like the others, and I wouldn't tell
you if I did know. I'll go get the rest."
None of the mysterious packages and envelopes ever had a return
address. They'd contained everything from folding money to money orders
to useful household and personal items. At first she'd thought it was
the Brees girl's way of giving to them without showing off her family's
money status, but most contained short notes unsigned, of course in a
variety of handwritings. And they didn't all come from town. One had
been postmarked in Breckenridge and another in Ca¤on City.
As Marsha got back with the rest of the mail, Pebble's
five-year-old daughter came zipping into the living room. "Hi, Mrs.
Beck!" she squealed with glee.
"Hi, Skeeter. Looks like you missed a button on your blouse."
The corners of Skeeter's mouth drooped as she looked down. "I did?"
Pebble pointed to the bedrooms. "Honey, you go ask Possum to help
you with your buttons, please. And how did you get so dirty just
changing clothes?"
Skeeter giggled and scampered off without answering.
Marsha shook her head, freeing a few wisps of graying brown hair
from under her cap. "I always accused my boys of keeping jars of mud
under the beds to smear on while they changed."
Pebble agreed, thanked Marsha, and glanced through the window at
her sister's house.
Marsha saw her eyes move. "There's some for Stitch, too, including
one like that big one. I need to see her anyway. She's supposed to
have those pants let out for Hank so that he won't have to streak the
town tomorrow. Guess I'd better get moving. Oh! Hi, Owl! Boy, if you
don't get better looking ever? time I see you. You wanna run off with
an older woman?"
Owl gave Marsha a bear hug. "Sorry. Mama says I can't get married
until after college."
"You do what your mother says? Well, can I adopt you, then? My
boys never did what I said when they were sixteen. I'd like to know
what it's like."
The bedrooms emptied then, and Marsha had to speak to the rest of
the children before escaping.
"Look!" Skeeter said, pointing and jumping up and down with glee.
"More presents!"
"With the return addresses blacked out or missing," Owl said,
reaching for his pocket knife.
Fifteen-year-old Mouse turned her large blue eyes to Pebble.
"Don't you have any idea yet who's sending them, Mama?"
"No, Darling. I wish I knew so I could tell them to stop. I don't
like taking charity. We give, we don't take. It's more blessed to give
than to receive."
Naturally it was Possum, sweet charming lovable timid Possum, who
saw the flaw in that avowal. "But Mama, you can't give unless somebody
receives. Shouldn't other people have an opportunity to be blessed,
too? Isn't that being greedy on our part if we don't share being blessed?"
"Mama! Look here!" Owl said as he twisted his head over the
label. "If the light's just right you can see printing under the
blacked-out return address on the label. It says... IST."
Possum flinched. The father of the Ward girl who had ridiculed
Possum because she wouldn't sing for her band worked at International
Ski and Trail.
Pebble slid an arm around Possum's shoulders and pulled her close.
"Open it, son. Carefully. The rest of you stand back over here by me."
Owl gently cut the tape and slowly lifted the box flaps. An
envelope containing five one-hundred-dollar bills sat atop a collection
of clothing, mostly for cold weather, in a variety of sizes. What
didn't fit any of the children now would soon be grown into by someone,
either in her family or her sister's. A man's handwriting on the
envelope said, "I sincerely hope this helps you."
Mouse handed the money to Pebble, who stared at the small fortune.
It would help enormously, but she couldn't use it all for their current
needs. She would keep one bill for use. The other four would go into
the bank, into the college fund so that her children might have better
lives as adults.
Pebble watched quietly as Mouse and Owl emptied the large box,
holding the various items up to determine who was the best fit for
each. They were almost grown, and she was giving them the opportunity
to practice making decisions like adults. By the time they were done
and Owl reached for the first small package, Pebble thought she
understood the meaning of that large box. One, at least, finally made
sense. If it really was from the girl's father and not from other
people who worked there, then she knew what it was. Her lips moved
silently as she mouthed, "Penance."
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon Brees felt her butt lift from the throne as she crashed
the drumsticks down onto the largest cymbals and then thrust her arms
upward into a "V."
"I like it!" Kenny Taylor said while applauding.
Suzie Middleton, applauding beside him on the Brees family room's
sofa, gave him a sideways look. "You just liked the way her boobies
bounced, you dolt. They won't bounce that way inside her band uniform.
Or if they do, you won't be able to tell, especially with her on the
football field."
"Hey!" crowed cousin Whitney Gwyneth Kennedy from her seat in
Huntly Sheridan's lap, using the word that had earned her the nickname
of Hailey. They sat on the floor at Suzie's feet, next to Ghost,
Cinnamon's white greyhound. "I know! She could, like, do it naked! It
would be so the greatest halftime show ever, and so the better than that
Janet Jackson crap!"
Huntly slapped his forehead. "Of course! We could sell special
tickets and raise tons of money for the school! Whadda ya think,
Kenny? A hundred bucks a head? Think the guys would pay that much to
see bitch's tits from that distance?"
"Hello! Earth to Huntly! DUH!" Kenny said in his weird voice,
which sounded the same even though his normal voice had finally
undergone the deepening of puberty. "You value your girlfriend way too
cheaply. Those are five hundred dollar tits at a minimum! If that's
how little you think of her, maybe she should be my other girlfriend."
Suzie put her head on Kenny's shoulder and rubbed her hair on his
neck. "Kenny? Do you know the meaning of the word 'castration'?"
Huntly slowly shook his head and spoke with disgust. "Way to go,
Boy Blunder. You finally get her back to being your girlfriend again,
and the first thing you do is piss her off after she saves your life. I
should make Suzie my other girlfriend. Bitch won't mind."
"Wait a minute, shithead. Now there's an idea for a halftime
show," Cinnamon said as she dropped the sticks in their holder. She
reached for the clipboard that was always at hand during rehearsals.
"How much would the girls pay to watch us castrate shithead and Studman
at halftime?"
"Heyyyy!" crooned Cuz. "That would be, like, so the drama! After
we removed the fun parts, we could, like, auction them off and make even
more money!"
"Yeah!" cried Suzie. "The school could always use an extra fifteen
cents!"
"Fifteen cents?" the guys asked together.
"Sure," said Suzie. "I think the girls would pay extra to get
whole sets."
Huntly looked over his shoulder at Suzie and then shifted his gaze
to Kenny. "Don't take this the wrong way, dude, but I'm beginning to
think I'm not the only one with a bitch in this room."
Suzie thumped the top of Huntly's head. "You dolt."
Cuz didn't say anything, but she rolled onto one hip and reached
under her butt. Whatever she did, Huntly yelped.
Cinnamon grinned at him. She used the grin that caused sensible
people to wet their pants in fear. "We haven't had a formal adoption
ceremony like the Kings did for Hailey, shithead, or an informal one
like Wynter did for me, but as far as I'm concerned Suzie is my sister,
too. Picking on her is a good way to start a fight with my family, and
we have you outnumbered, even if she does have that hole in her leg.
And she can easily blow out your eardrums if she screams at you."
Huntly looked relieved as Hailey's hand withdrew from his lap. He
jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "You may have a total numbers
advantage, bitch, but I have Kung-Fu Kenny on my side."
"Really, shithead?" Cinnamon didn't relax her evil grin. Instead
she turned it to Kenny. "You want to fight with Huntly against me?"
Kenny thrust both arms toward her, palms out. "No way! He's on
his own! Fuck him!"
"No WAY!" cried Hailey. "Cuz isn't that desperate for a good time,
and Huntly, like, doesn't deserve the pleasure!"
Suzie patted Huntly's shoulder. "Looks like you'll just have to
play with it in the shower again."
Huntly blushed at the reminder of the time he'd fallen after
slipping on the soap and his mom had found him with Little Huntly
standing at attention. He stroked Ghost's head with one hand. "At
least you're on my side, aren't you boy?"
Ghost rose to his feet and dashed out of the room, turning toward
the patio door before vanishing in a burst of what seemed
near-supersonic speed.
"Aw, man!" Huntly whined. "Not again! I'm really getting tired of
that."
Kenny slid an arm around Suzie and cooed, "What about me getting a
little action, gorgeous?"
Suzie shrugged. "Well, it's okay with me if you want to play with
Huntly's pecker for him."
One of the things that Cinnamon admired about Kenny was his ability
to retreat when outnumbered. While the girls laughed, he changed the
subject. "Hey! Speaking of tits, did you see Mrs. Beard, the new
health and human sexuality teacher? Man, I can't wait for that class.
I wonder if she uses herself as a training aid for practical exercises?
Wait. Is it Miss Beard or Mrs. Beard?"
"Hey!" said Hailey. "I, like, have her for home room. It's Ms.
Beard and she, like, said we'd better not forget it!" Home room had
been the only class that half-day. The rest of the time had been class
schedules and locker assignments and other administrative trivia
associated with the start of a new school year that couldn't be handled
in home room.
"Aw, man!" Kenny slumped against the couch back and looked like a
kid who'd just had his lollipop stolen. "Home room? Why couldn't I be
in the eighth grade this year?
"Hey! It's so not all the good, you know. I, like, have Brinkly
Ward in my home room with me."
"I can ignore her. And Ms. Beard's a redhead, too!"
"Oh yeah?" Cinnamon asked. She looked at Hailey. "My red or
Suzie's red?"
"Closer to yours. It would be, like, halfway if the chlorine in
the pool water didn't, like, bleach Suzie's hair. Actually, it's more
like Jimmy's red."
While Kenny agreed with Hailey, Suzie rubbed her right thigh above
the bandage wrapped around it. "Yeah, well, I guess mine will get
darker since I won't be swimming for a while."
Kenny cupped a hand over hers. "It's okay, Suzie. You don't start
training for competition for a while, and you'll be healed by then.
You'll be ready in time to break Miss Jackson's records for
13-14-year-olds, too." The tenderness and compassion in his voice made
Cinnamon wonder for the thousandth time if Kenny Taylor, Future MD, was
two people inside one body.
Speaking of Future MDs, Cinnamon wished Wynter could be there, but
she understood. Jimmy had gone out of town with his mom, and whenever
he was away, Sis withdrew. Jimmy didn't have to be present with Sis, he
just had to be nearby. The others had moved away from her question, but
Wynter would have brought the conversation back to the subject by now
and would have offered her usual succinct, helpful analysis. Well,
without Sis, I guess I'll have to do it myself.
Cinnamon brandished her pen like a baton. "Can we get back to the
subject here? The first game is in three days. What did I do right?
What needs to change? Remember that I'll be out on the fifty yard line,
halfway to the center of the field, and the audience will be in the
bleachers, so subtle movements won't be noticed."
The phone rang.
"I've got it," Rosita Vasquez called from the kitchen. She had
watched the rehearsal from the family room doors and then retreated when
the banter started, saving her observations and comments for later.
"Hey," Kenny said, seizing another opportunity to change the
subject. He jerked his head toward the kitchen. "I forgot to ask. Is
Junior and the Twins going to perform at their wedding reception?"
"No," Cinnamon replied. "Wynter's group is. I'll be busy being
the daughter of the groom, so Guy Malone will drum. I've been working
with him on the music they'll play."
Kenny nodded his understanding. "You know, she really needs to
name her group."
Hailey twisted to look at him. "Hey! Last week's news! But
she's, like, waiting until, like, the right name comes along. It is so
the drama for her! She is so the worried that she'll, like, name it and
then think of a better name, like, the next day when it's too late!"
Cinnamon shook her head and sighed. She filtered the irritation
from her voice and said, "Priorities, people. We worry about what's
most important first and then worry about the less important stuff, and
then the trivial stuff. Remember how that works, Future Doctor Taylor?
Sis has shown you triage by example often enough. So can we get back to
the halftime entertainment?"
Rosita appeared in the doorway and frowned at her. "It's your
other mother. She sounds... well, I'm not sure how to describe it, but
she says she needs to talk to you."
Dread flooded Cinnamon in an icy torrent. She didn't know how she
knew, maybe it was just feminine intuition, maybe it was because it was
long overdue, but she knew the reason Mom had called. She dropped the
clipboard and jumped to her feet. "Rehearsal's over," she said,
fluttering her hands in a shooing motion. "Sis needs me."
Chapter 2
Angie found Richard sitting motionless in the hot tub. He looked
up in silence. She grabbed a towel, pushed the off switch for the
pumps, and sat on the edge of the tub, the towel folded beneath her to
keep her shorts dry. She quietly asked, "Think this is the end of it?"
His ruggedly handsome face looked like he was about to cry. "End of
it? Of her sex life with me? Probably. Of her relationship with
Jimmy? I don't know. I knew the first would eventually happen. It's
the last one that scares me. They are so right for each other. This
isn't what I expected. I never wanted to hurt her by costing her the
first true love she ever experienced."
She caressed his face and spoke with gentleness. "You didn't seem
worried about costing her the first mother she had."
One hand closed around her wrist. He turned his head to kiss her
palm. "I did. But I realized that her mother was a reasonable and
understanding person. I knew you well enough to know that you'd think
of her first and that you would do nothing that would harm her. Or me."
She held her comments, none of which would help and, frankly, none
of which were relevant. Not after more than a year. "Do you think
Jimmy's as reasonable and understanding as me?"
Richard shook his head. "That's what I've been trying to figure
out. He may be the most mature friend she has except for Cinnamon, but
the look on his face... He was totally off guard and appalled. You got
to build up to the truth. Jimmy had it thrown in his face. I'm sure he
thinks he knows how I feel because of when I walked in on them, but this
is much worse."
"Well..." she said, and then sighed. "Well, he's not impulsive.
He'll think about it and won't do anything that will hurt Wynter, so
you're safe. He won't report you."
"It's not me I'm worried about!"
She understood his anger. "I know. I really do. I think I just
said that because I was stalling until I could think of something else
to say. It's not easy for me to find words, either."
"I hope she can." Emotion caused a brief break halfway through his
words. He inhaled deeply. "I don't want to cost her Jimmy. This isn't
what I'd expected."
She gently combed his hair with her fingertips. "She's proved her
ability to manage crises before. Only two people can manage this one,
and I've alerted the other. Honey, we can't fix it. Come on. Hop
out. While you're getting dressed you can tell me one more time about
the Law of Unintended Consequences."
His only response to her mild rebuke was a deep sniff. He wiped
what might have been sweat and tub water from his cheeks and then slowly
rose on unsteady legs.
~ ~ ~
"We did NOT..." Brinkly Ward bit off her words and cooled her
anger, something she wasn't used to doing. But Trisha Sue Fenton was
the closest thing she had to a friend in this godforsaken hole in the
universe, and she couldn't afford to lose that. She brushed her short
brown hair back from her forehead and tried again, calmer this time.
"We didn't order that fresh horseshit. Cinnamon Brees secretly had it
delivered and dumped in our driveway and spread on our lawn."
Trish's violet eyes widened in shock and flicked to the living room
window. She looked ready to fall off the Wards' couch. "Really?" She
pointed toward her own house, a block south and half a block west. "It
stunk up our place something horrible. Why'd the little bitch do that?"
Brinkly smiled at the epithet, helped herself to another fresh
coconut macaroon, and offered the plate to Trish. "Jealousy. I had The
Brink of Destruction in Vermont. She couldn't get a band together in
Boston. Not many surfers there, so there weren't many players who liked
surf or could play it. She resents the fact that I'm a better guitarist
than she is a drummer, too."
Trish took two cookies. "Yeah, that sounds like her. First thing
the stubby little bitch did when she got here was take the boys away
from me and the other girls. Always wore sweaters to show off her
boobs. The guys, especially the jocks, are so dumb that they didn't
notice that mine are bigger." She angrily bit off a chunk of cookie.
Brinkly resisted the urge to look down at her own minor
development. "She tried to turn the town against us, you know. All of
us. Mother, Daddy, even my two brothers who aren't here."
Trish nodded and swallowed. "Somebody was spreading rumors that
you'd attacked one of those Watkins low-lifes. Must have been her."
Brinkly sighed and shook her head. "Did you know I offered
Possum--what kind of name is that for a girl--the opportunity to sing
with my band, and she refused, even when I offered to pay her? She
actually thought she was too good for me."
"That doesn't surprise me!" Trish gulped a mouthful of Pepsi and
shook her blonde head in disgust. "The family can't afford anything
decent, but they refuse to work! Always looking for handouts, but think
they're superior to their betters! My parents let that Spider character
do repairs to the house when something breaks. God knows what he'd
steal if I didn't keep an eye on him."
"And, of course, there was that farce about the 'sabotage' to the
lights at the concert shell."
Trish's eyes grew large again. She'd been there in Otter Park that
night. "Farce?"
Brinkly leaned forward over the coffee table and lowered her voice
conspiratorially. "Think about it. When did the lights mysteriously
stop working? During her act. Didn't you think it strange that she
conveniently had lights of her own waiting to be used? And who finds
the mysterious problem that 'can't be fixed until Monday' and fixes it?
One of her roadies!"
Trish frowned. "Her what?"
"Her stage crew. And then she had that Malone creep blame my
father for causing the problem, just to make my father look bad because
she was jealous of my talent! Well, she also wanted him to look bad so
that he'd get fired and we'd go broke and she could show off her money
more. The boys she can't get by wiggling her butt at, she gets by
waving money at."
Trish frowned and chewed more cookie. "Yeah, that sounds like
her. She's probably trying to buy my crown as homecoming queen for
herself this year, though most of the boys will vote for her anyway when
she wiggles her butt at them. Also class president and..." She paused
to think as the obvious seeped in. "Okay, she's only a seventh grader,
so I don't have to worry. But anybody in the seventh grade who deserves
to be the class president won't get it! It's a damn good thing she's in
the band or she'd probably try to take my job of head cheerleader!"
Brinkly nodded. "I know she would. She has to grab all the
attention to herself! And those people she surrounds herself with!
That Wynter King, for instance. Gets herself trapped in a mine and lets
a few minutes on national television go to her head! She's always
pretending she knows something about medicine, too. 'Future MD!' HA!
Just wait until she kills somebody."
Trish shrugged. "Well, she has saved a couple of lives."
Brinkly waved away the idea. "Propaganda. My sources say
Middleton was hurt because Wynter pushed her in front of that spear to
save herself. She saved her afterward, but I guess she couldn't let her
die in case somebody else talked. So, Brees buys off the witnesses.
And the reporters. You saw what they said about my father, trying to
implicate him in Cinnamon's stunt at the concert? Well, she pays them
to lie about Wynter, too."
Confusion swept over Trish's face. It seemed at home there. "Why
would she do that?"
"Isn't it obvious? She can't find worthwhile friends like I can,
so she gets leftover rejects and pays to make them look more important.
It's her ego!"
Trish nodded. Clearly she had not missed the compliment from
someone as important as the daughter of the local IST Entertainment
Director. "That makes sense. It explains everything, too."
"Of course it does. Why else would she hang out with a murderer
like that Taylor creep? Three bodies to his credit! And you know that
she paid the reporters on that last incident, not to mention paying the
police not to have it investigated and prosecuted."
Trish's face hardened. "That Middleton idiot is Taylor's
girlfriend. She probably did it because Middleton demanded it. Part of
her price to keep quiet about what Wynter did in getting her hurt.
Brees is using Middleton, whose family can't even afford her a decent
swim suit. I bet Brees threw a hook baited with money at her, and she
swallowed it in desperation, but then she found enough sense to
blackmail Brees for protection for Taylor. That bitch is even worse
than I imagined."
Brinkly smiled. "Yes. You're lucky I'm a friend who's known about
her for years and can explain her. Do you want to see my room now?
I'll show you my scrapbooks of my performances. Maybe you'll want to do
something for the Brink of Disaster. Brees has her slut cousin dance to
turn on the guys. Maybe we can think of something you can do and be
more famous than she is."
"Sure!" Trish smiled and rose to her feet.
Brinkly reached for her wheelchair's controls. Her first day at
school had been good. She'd found someone else with similar feelings
about the Brees bitch. Someone who could openly carry out her agenda
and deflect attention away from herself. Maybe this town had redeeming
qualities after all. "Do you like to ski? I can get you some free lift
tickets from Daddy, you know."
~ ~ ~
Wynter paused at the corner, closed her left hand around the blonde
ponytail draped over her shoulder, and took a deep breath. Dragon
trotted around her and made the one hundred eighty into her room. She
mentally crossed her fingers, even though she wasn't superstitious, and
followed him.
Jimmy sat on the chair at her desk, his body turned toward the
door, his head face-down in his hands again.
"Ummm... Is it okay if I close the door?"
Jimmy didn't look up. She guessed he sounded like a cadaver would
if it could talk when he said, "It's your room."
That was a symptom for her diagnosis. She carefully examined it as
she had Dragon move out of the way and closed her door. She slowly
approached until she was a foot in front of him. She felt Dragon close
behind her, but he didn't growl. "I'm not sure where to start," she
admitted.
He sighed, then asked in a soft, cadaverous whisper, "How long?"
As always, she knew what he meant. "Since Nurse Carter was trapped
here by the avalanche and couldn't get back to the mountain house and I
had to be his nurse."
Jimmy tensed, and his tone changed to incredulous, though it
remained soft. "He made you?"
"Oh, no! He couldn't do anything with two broken arms and a broken
leg. Actually, if anybody made anybody to anything, well, I... I guess
I made him."
Jimmy didn't relax or say anything. He didn't look up at her, either.
She released her ponytail and clasped her hands behind her butt.
She couldn't stop herself from slowly twisting her body on her toes.
"Um, I guess it's not a medical confidence, so I can tell you. Even if
it is, he wouldn't mind now. Do you remember me telling you that the
broken ski gave him an accidental vasectomy, and that's why I don't have
any brothers or sisters?"
She guessed his grunt was better than silence. She switched to
professional medical mode, more for her benefit than his, she supposed.
"Well, it also caused trauma to the ducts. Semen buildup causes pain
from dilation if it isn't relieved. Mother was in Europe, and he
couldn't do anything himself. I didn't want him to hurt. I'm a
Future MD well, I was a Future Nurse then and my job is to prevent
pain, not let it get worse. Especially in my own father. I couldn't
let him suffer pain I could prevent any more than I could let you. I
love him way too much." She waited for a response, then added, "I love
both of you way too much."
This time the answer was silence. She didn't know when it
happened, but he'd lost the rigor mortis and had slumped, although he
still acted as if he were dead.
Stop squirming! she ordered herself. "So I masturbated him for
relief, just like I provided him a urinal and bedpan for relief. And
then, well, things sort of went from there."
He sighed. "Your mom?" he whispered.
"She knows. It bothered her at first. Maybe it still does a
little, but she said we could keep... we could... Well, Mother set up
rules that we follow. Jimmy, I've wanted to tell you. Honest! But
I've been afraid that you couldn't handle it. Not yet. I've been
waiting for the right moment."
He stiffened again and stopped breathing.
If only he'd look up at me!
But he didn't. Instead his faint cadaverous voice said, "That's
why you knew everything in the mine." He paused and thought for a
moment. She didn't think he could sound any more dead, but he did when
he said, "And why you told Cinnamon to do me."
Stop squirming! "Yes. I didn't know if you'd do it with Sis or
not, but that wasn't what was important. I didn't care if you did or
didn't. I was trying to get you to understand that I love you enough
that it didn't matter. That I'd always love you, no matter what you do
or don't do because I know you love me. That I wasn't a jealous person
like Suzie."
"Yeah." He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "You're not like
Suzie. You're like Kenny."
The words were a scalpel through her chest and into her heart.
"Jimmy, that's not true! I've had sexual activities with just two
people, two who I love with all my heart! Kenny would take anyone who's
the opposite sex and still breathing."
Silence.
Suddenly he stopped breathing and stiffened again. Jimmy had just
experienced what her father called the moment the lights came on. She
had to strain to hear his words, "Cinnamon knows."
"Yes."
He finally lifted his face from his hands. The hurt look on his
face made her heart want to drop out of her chest and fall right through
the floor. "You could tell Cinnamon but not tell me."
"No!" She had to choose her words carefully to avoid giving away
her sister's own secret relationship. "Jimmy, she told me! You know
how Sis is. She diagnosed the situation herself. She examined all the
symptoms from the two of us and then told me. She didn't ask. She told
me! You know how she does that."
She couldn't believe that Jimmy was looking at her like that! He
was trying to decide if she was telling the truth!
He finally nodded. "Yeah," he said in that soft, flat, lifeless
voice. But she knew he believed her. That was something.
She knelt before him and brushed at eyes that seemed to be
forgetting she was in professional mode. "Remember what I said about
not having to take love from one person to give it to another? You
should, because you used it as an example when you were talking to Suzie
about Kenny. She, um, told Sis and me all about your talk."
Silence; then a faint," Yeah."
"Well, I didn't have to love Daddy less when you came along, and I
don't have to love you less to still love him. And I didn't have to
love you less to have sexual activities with him. Since we were already
doing it with each other, I couldn't see stopping because of you. It
wouldn't be fair to him, and he'd think I don't love him any more! I
still love him, just like I still love you!"
She thought her voice was getting squeaky there at the end. But if
he noticed, he didn't say anything. That was the problem. He didn't
say anything. He just looked at her. At least he's looking at me now.
That's something.
~ ~ ~
Suzie thanked Kenny with a kiss for helping her out of her
wheelchair and onto the loveseat in his family room. He'd been ever so
careful not to move her leg wrong or something, and so it didn't hurt
any worse than usual. And "usual" was that she didn't need the stupid
strong pain pills now, just regular aspirin or something.
Hailey and Huntly didn't come with them to Kenny's house. From the
way they looked at each other, she knew why. At this very moment they
were probably in Hailey's bedroom and doing it with each other. But
that wasn't important right now. She had been given a puzzle, and when
Suzanne Middleton had a puzzle that needed dissolving, everything else
had to wait.
Well, except for her dolt, who had been very moody or something
since she'd been hurt by that stupid drug dealer. But when he was with
her, Kenny was relaxed and cheerful, even if he was grosser than usual,
so it was important that she kept him happy. Besides, he might be able
to help her figure out what Cinnamon meant or something.
A small, hesitant voice from the door said, "Suzie?"
Kenny looked up from putting a pillow under her leg and growled,
"Charlie, get out of here!"
"KENNY!" She thumped his head. "Be nice, you dolt!" Okay, her
dolt's little brother was also important, and it was her job to protect
him from Kenny's angrier-than-usual moodiness. Her sharp voice
sweetened. "Come on in, Charlie. Hi. It's good to see you."
"Hi." He gave Kenny a look of triumph, but he still moved
carefully toward them. "I was wondering if you felt better. I hope you
stop hurting soon, so we can play some more catch."
She smiled at him. "Thanks. That's nice of you. I hope so, too.
Have you been practicing like I told you?"
"Uh huh!" He nodded with wide eyes and big head movements or
something. "I have! You're even better than Jimmy at teaching!"
"Hello! Earth to Charlie! DUH!" Kenny said in his weird voice.
Then he spoke in his new normal voice that Suzie thought sounded ever so
good. "She's a better pitcher than Jimmy. Heck, you're almost a better
pitcher than Jimmy."
"I AM?"
The surprised, happy sound of his voice made Suzie grin as she
straightened his crooked glasses the way she'd just straightened
Kenny's. "If you aren't, you give me a couple of weeks more with you
after I can throw again and you will be."
"WOW!"
Her grin got wider or something. "Are you looking forward to being
seven on Wednesday?"
His mouth drooped. "Well, my party won't be until Saturday."
"No," she said, "but on Wednesday you'll be seven and then you'll
be as smart as your brother."
Charlie gapped at Kenny. Or whatever that stupid word was. "I WILL?"
She shrugged. "Sure. You're already almost as smart as him.
Maybe by the time you're eight, you'll be smarter than Kenny."
"WOW!"
Her dolt groaned, then said, "Charlie, can Suzie and I have some
time alone now?"
Charlie gave his older brother a grin that Suzie guessed was as
slight as a fox, though she had no idea what that stupid old saying
meant. "Are you gonna take her clothes off like Cinnamon's?"
Kenny gave her a worried look, but she didn't get mad or something
about being reminded of the time he was chasing the naked little redhead
around his bedroom, when Cinnamon was trying to trick him into telling
her why she'd broke up with the dolt the first time. Instead, she
grinned because she knew what Charlie really hoped for: more blackmail
leverage against his older brother.
"No, Charlie," she said with a giggle that made her dolt relax.
"We're just going to talk. School started, and so we have to decide how
I can get to my classes without hurting my leg. The halls are kinda
crowded for someone in a wheelchair, and I have to stay in it at least
until the end of this week or something. Remember when Huntly was in
his when he hurt his knee last year?"
Charlie looked at her with serious eyes and nodded. "I remember.
I hope you think of something good to work so you don't hurt."
"Kenny will," she said, giving her dolt a big smile. "He's a
Future MD and almost as smart as Wynter. I can always count on both of
them to help me."
Charlie's eyes got bigger and then he looked at Kenny. "You help
Suzie, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever. Get out."
"KENNY! YOU STUPID DOLT!"
Kenny sighed. "I will, Charlie. Can we talk now?"
Charlie rushed out.
"What a..."
"Kenny?" She didn't talk loud or something, but she'd sounded
enough like his mother for her dolt to understand that he'd better not
finish what he was about to say.
He swallowed. "Can I get you anything?"
"Sit here by me. I need a kiss. A big one. Real big."
She had to straighten his glasses again afterward, but he was in an
ever so much better mood. "I think I need some help or something, but
I'm not sure how much I can tell you."
He nodded and took her hands in his. "Because of whatever Cinnamon
said?" He hadn't heard it because the little redhead had whispered it
in her ear.
"Yeah. Actually, I don't know enough to tell you much anyway. She
said, 'I'll probably need your help later, but nobody else can know.
Not even Kenny.' So I don't even know if I can ask you to help me guess
what she wants or not."
He shook his head and grinned. "You know Cinnamon. It could be
anything. Since she said she had to leave to help Wynter, I guess it's
a girl thing that I couldn't understand anyway."
She frowned at him, pretending to be mad. "Are you making fun of
girls?"
He dropped her hands and pulled back, holding his hands up between
them like he was pushing away. "No way! Unh uh! What, and get you and
Cinnamon both mad at me? How dumb do you think I am?"
She looked at his hands, looked over his shoulder, took his wrists,
and pulled his hands to her boobies. "Do you really want me to answer
that?"
He put on what he called his 'Patented Shit-Eating Grin' and said,
"Only if it will keep you from changing your mind about this." He
squeezed her boobies gently. It felt ever so nice.
"You can hold those if it will help you think better or something.
What do I do for Cinnamon?"
He shrugged but he didn't stop squeezing. "I guess you do the only
thing you can do. You wait for further instructions."
She sighed. "I guess." She didn't like his answer, but she
couldn't think of a better one, either. "Then what do we do while we wait?"
The Patented Shit-Eating Grin returned. "You could help me think
of a way to send Mrs. Holland and Charlie out of the house for the next
hour."
Chapter 3
Richard had no idea how long he'd sat at his office desk, his chair
turned to watch Wynter's door, his right forearm along the desk's front
edge. His fingers nervously drummed the desktop while his left foot
bounced on the toes in an entirely unrelated rhythm. He never thought
to look at the clock, not that it would make any difference. He didn't
know what time he'd sat down.
Somewhere in the fifth round of eternity her door opened. Jimmy
looked at him, then turned to Wynter, who was wiping red eyes. Jimmy
whispered to her. Richard obviously wasn't supposed to hear, so he
didn't try to listen as he rose, wobbling slightly because his right leg
was asleep.
Wynter nodded. When Jimmy stepped into the hall, she closed her door.
Jimmy stood there, not moving, staring at him with emotionless,
hollow eyes.
Richard indicated the chair beside his desk. "May we talk?"
"Yes, sir." The voice matched the eyes as he moved zombie-like to
stand in front of the chair. He remained standing after Richard sat,
not moving until Richard invited him to sit down. Then he stared at the
floor in front of his feet.
"Jimmy, if you thought it was awkward for you the last time we
talked like this, it's a thousand times worse for me now."
"Yes, sir." The eyes didn't move.
This is going worse than I thought. He swallowed. "I'm sure it's
more awkward for you, too."
"Yes, sir."
"Jimmy, I... Look, if I know Wynter, she tried to take some,
probably all, of the blame. It wasn't her fault, it was entirely mine."
The hollow eyes finally moved. They peered into his, and Richard
felt the same eerie sensation that occurred whenever Cinnamon did that.
Jimmy, like Cinnamon, was studying his whole body, not just his eyes.
It was the first time he'd seen Jimmy do that. Richard
swallowed hard and another eternity passed. "You aren't as convincing
as she is, sir." His eyes returned to the floor.
"Jimmy, I was wrong. I shouldn't have. I guess you know you
weren't in the picture when we started. I knew that I should have
stopped when she found you, but I didn't. That was weakness on my
part. But I'll stop now. I'll never touch her that way again. I
promise you."
Again the hollow eyes moved again and peered into his for an
eternity. It seemed to Richard that Jimmy was having his words shipped
in from another place and awaiting their arrival. But when he spoke, he
sounded very distant, as if he'd gone away to their source. "Is it fair
to Wynter if you make decisions which concern her personal life without
first asking her feelings, sir?"
Is he saying Wynter said she didn't want to stop? Or that I'm a
failure as a father? I need her here to interpret. "No, I suppose it
isn't." When the hollow eyes didn't move he said, "I know it isn't."
Jimmy blinked in slow motion. "Yes, sir." Again he studied the
carpet.
"Jimmy, I need to know where we stand. We can't be grownup-child,
not that I think of you as a child because of your maturity. We need to
be man-to-man and honest with each other."
Jimmy didn't look up. "Sir, I told her I wouldn't say or do
anything to get you in trouble."
For a moment he'd sounded as if his voice had a slight waver, but
Richard decided it was a trick of the acoustics. He nodded. "I didn't
think you would, for Wynter's sake, but Jimmy, I'm not concerned about
me. I'm concerned about Wynter and I'm concerned about you, and mostly
I'm concerned about Wynter and you as a couple. So, please, tell me
honestly what you think. I really need to know, and you can be as blunt
as Cinnamon if you want."
This time only the eyes moved to his. "Do you really want to know
what I think, sir?"
Richard inhaled deeply and braced himself. "Yes. Whether I'll
like it or not, I need to know. I won't be angry or upset with your
answer because I asked you to tell me. I won't be a hypocrite and then
have to deal with Wynter's reaction to that."
Another small eternity passed. Jimmy's jaw worked, maybe trying to
unpack the latest shipment of words, maybe just a nervous tic. Finally
he said in that zombie voice, "I think you wanted to quit, but then you
convinced yourself that you were doing it for her as well as for
yourself. I think maybe you believe that most of the time, but
sometimes you doubt whether you are right and have to convince yourself
again. Do you want me to get out now, sir?"
Richard kickstarted his heart. "No." Jimmy had been dead on the
money. Did he learn that from Wynter, or did he guess that himself? He
suspected the latter, meaning that the boy was even more astute than
he'd guessed, even under this emotional shock, and he'd tried extremely
hard not to underestimate him. "I don't want you to leave for telling
me the truth. I wouldn't want you to leave even if you lied to me,
though I'd be disappointed in you."
Richard watched the silent eyes boring into him. "The way you're
disappointed in me now."
The eyes returned to the floor in silence.
"Jimmy, I'd be happy if you stayed, but if you're uncomfortable and
need to leave and think things over, you're free to do so. It's your
choice, but you do what you think you need to do most."
He rose. Richard saw a marionette being lifted on its strings by
an outside force. "I think I need to leave now, sir."
Richard swallowed his disappointment. "I understand. Don't be
upset with Wynter and do try to keep an open mind for her, that's all I
ask."
"Yes, sir. Good bye."
"Good bye."
Jimmy slowly turned and oozed away.
Now what? He moved hesitantly into the hall, reached for Wynter's
door knob, and froze. The hand turned into a fist, rose to knock on the
door, and froze. He dropped his hand and froze.
That's where Angie found him. He looked at her and asked quietly,
"Did he say anything?"
She shook her head. "Just, 'I'm sorry, ma'am,' and then he left."
"Sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry because he caught us? Sorry for you?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sure." Her eyes flicked to Wynter's
door. "Are we going in?"
"I'm not sure, either."
~ ~ ~
Instead of turning his bike left at the street, Jimmy turned
right. It wasn't a conscious decision. He was on autopilot while his
mind retreated into soothing numbness. At its west end, Seabridge Trail
curved left and then became Fourteenth Street at the intersection with
Clark Place. A trail into Otter Park began on the west side of the
intersection. He blindly turned down the trail, not fully aware of
where he was, finally stopping when he reached the foot bridge across
Porcupine Creek.
He left his bike and shuffled westward down North Bank Trail. He
was sitting on the big flat rock when he returned to Earth. Did I lock
my bike? Quite honestly, he didn't care.
For ages he stared into the still pool below. Movement finally
caused him to focus. A brown trout, like the one he'd seen the first
day he'd held hands with... Wynter... here, swam across his field of
view. One hand shot to a broken pine branch, snatched it up, and flung
it at the fish. He snarled angrily. The brownie shot downstream, its
sides reflecting a flash of light.
Dry red eyes moved to the spot where the deer and her baby had come
to drink that same day. He had a drawing of that moment on his wall. A
picture he no longer needed. One he would remove after he returned
home. Whenever that would be.
Birds chirped, unheard. Insects walked on his arms, unfelt. Two
squirrels chased each other on the opposite bank, unseen. The sun sank
lower in the sky, unnoticed.
Finally he returned to the world and numbly rose for the trek back
to his bike, down the trail where he'd first walked while holding hands
with... Wynter.
He froze and blinked. With sudden clarity he realized where he
was. Immediately to his right was where she'd found the arrowhead in
the creek. The one she'd given to him.
The one that was always on the thong around his neck.
Jimmy's left hand pulled the thong over his head and dangled the
arrowhead before his eyes. He stared at it for a long time, then took
it in his right hand, wrapped the thong around it, and walked blindly to
the edge of the water. He faced downstream, drew back his arm, and
flung it forward as hard as he could.
The arrowhead would not leave his hand.
Jimmy sank to the damp ground, staring at his hand as the tears
finally found their way out.
~ ~ ~
When she heard the storm door open, Marti McCauley rose from
clipping coupons at the kitchen table. "Hi, honey. I guess you can
tell that Cinnamon is here."
Jimmy, his eyes very red, didn't return her hug. He came out of a
daze and heard the drums in the almost-soundproofed practice room for
the first time. He groaned. "What's she doing here?"
Jimmy had confirmed her suspicions: Cinnamon was here in a
self-appointed capacity to help her son, not to work out difficulties
with the music they were secretly composing as a birthday present for
Suzie. She didn't know what the problem was or how Cinnamon had learned
about it though that wasn't hard to guess but it certainly had nothing
to do with the fact that she'd had to cancel their trip to Vail that
afternoon.
Jimmy had been beside himself when he left to surprise Wynter. Now
he acted as if his first goldfish had died again. He'd been crying.
Had he and Wynter had their first spat? She couldn't picture it, but it
was possible. But Cinnamon would soon tell her what she needed to
know. Marti McCauley avoided worrying about problems until she knew
what the problem was.
"She said something about difficulties with Suzie's Victory. Do
you want some lemonade?"
"No, ma'am. Thanks." He turned and faded down the basement
stairs, returning to that dazed state before he faded through the door.
~ ~ ~
When the door to the practice room opened, Cinnamon switched from
testing a new idea for the next half-time performance to Ruffles and
Flourishes.
A red-eyed zombie with dirt-flecked damp jeans walked in and stared
at her. The zombie tried to remember the mechanics of how it spoke when
it was alive. Finally the mouth moved. "Can I be alone?"
"No." She dropped the sticks in the holder and rose. "Couch," she
said, pointing at it to help the zombie remember what a couch had been
when it was alive. "Sit down, please."
He blinked without emotion, sighed, and obeyed. She closed the
door and sat next to him, facing him. She waited while he remembered
how to talk. Finally he asked sarcastically, "Are you here to ask for
sex again?"
She shook her head, her face serious. "Maybe later. What's wrong
with Kenny?"
"You aren't here about Kenny."
No hesitation before speaking that time. She scanned his body
language with her peripheral vision while her unblinking eyes stayed
locked on his. He's still numb. "I'm here for two reasons. The first
is Kenny. He got Suzie back, but if you leave him alone, sometimes with
her, but especially without, he alternates between distant, sad, and
furiously angry. It's been worse since school today. Suzie hasn't said
anything yet, but it's worrying her. So, what's wrong with him?"
"No idea. Why should I care?"
She folded her arms and stared at him in analytical mode for six
seconds, the precise amount of time required. "Because he's been your
friend since the day the two of you were born."
"Yeah? Well, I have my own problems."
"Well, I'll be ass-fucked with a cactus dildo in a bukkake circle
jerk!"
Jimmy's face twisted and he barked, "CINNAMON! You're as bad as he
is!"
It's so simple knowing which of his buttons to push when. She kept
her face from showing the grin inside. I'll bet that's the first honest
emotion he's shown since he found out about Wynter and Mister King. She
slowly shook her head. "I'm just shocked. That's the first time I've
ever seen you place yourself and your own interests before any of your
friends who had a problem. I didn't know until this very minute that
you knew how."
She felt a sudden urge to lash out with a backhand across his face,
wondering if that would duplicate his startled look. She doubted it.
Almost, perhaps, but not the equal. Some questions will never be answered.
His head sagged. "I'm sorry."
Okay, I've found Jimmy. Step one complete.
He sighed. He didn't look up at her, but he said, "I don't know.
I noticed it, too. It's been since that day on the lake. Maybe it's
because Suzie was hurt. Maybe it's because he killed that guy."
"Did he?"
Jimmy's head jerked up. He locked eyes with her. "Huh?"
I have his attention on something besides Wynter. Step two
complete. She spoke slowly and distinctly. "Did he?" When he frowned
she said, "We don't know one way or the other what happened. All Kenny
ever says is, 'He fell.' He doesn't say whether he helped him fall.
Haven't you noticed that?"
His frown dissolved into confusion.
Obviously not. She waited.
"No," he said. "You're right, but I just assumed..."
"Mistake! Surely by now you know the difference between a
hypothesis and an assumption. Cinnamon Brees doesn't assume, she
hypothesizes and then tests to see if the hypothesis is correct.
Assumptions had a flat earth with the rest of the universe circling it
since before recorded history, even though observed events such as
retrograde movement of the planets could not be explained by the
assumptions. It wasn't until people started hypothesizing alternate
arrangements and testing them that we developed the modern cosmological
theories."
Ninety percent of that was one of Mister Shelby's science class
lectures. She wanted to hook her left thumb behind a suspender or belt
and wave her raised right forefinger in his comical manner that made
difficult subjects interesting. Instead, she said, "If I may be
blunt--I have a habit of being blunt, you know--why am I explaining this
to you instead of the other way around? You're the
biologist/chemist/physicist/astronomer. I'm just one of Mister Howard's
drummers."
He gave her a weak smile. "You're more than just a drummer, Miss
Brees." His imitation of Mister Shelby's voice was a lot better than
his John Wayne impersonation. Of course, that wasn't saying much about
how good his Mister Shelby actually was. He relaxed into his own
voice. "I can call Huntly and let him tell you what else you are. You
changed courses in the middle of the stream."
I have him thinking instead of reacting. Step three complete. She
gave his arm a playful backhand, one that got his attention but didn't
leave tears in his eyes. He had shed enough of those. "Bad pun! Go to
bed without your supper!" She carefully studied his reaction to the
word 'bed.'
His voice attempted a partial retreat back to zombie style. "She
called you, didn't she?"
"Is that an assumption or a hypothesis?"
He sighed. "I guess it's a question."
"She didn't call me, Mom did."
"I didn't think of that."
"You weren't thinking at all." She rested a warm hand on his cool
forearm and spoke softly, with genuine sincerity. "Jimmy, now that
you're talking and thinking again, let's work it out. You have
questions. I can answer most of them. Since I'm your counselor, it's
all medical confidence. You know that I can keep my mouth shut."
He gave her a long, steady look that almost had her wondering if
he'd fully retreated to zombie status before he finally spoke. "Yeah.
You can. And you did. And I got blindsided as a result. I thought I
could trust both of you."
"You can trust both of us. We've spend months preparing you so
that she could break it gently to you. There was never any intent to
deceive you or to keep the truth from you forever."
"Yeah. She said so. But it doesn't make any sense. Why didn't
you think I could handle the truth if you broke it to me gently? To use
your example, the Church repressed the heliocentric universe instead of
the geocentric one--they knew it was wrong when they forced Galileo to
say he was wrong--because they thought the knowledge would result in
mass panic, but that didn't happen."
Now I know the full problem. It's not entirely the issue of sexual
fidelity and incest. He doesn't understand why he wasn't trusted with
the facts. Step four complete. "Gently or bluntly is irrelevant. You
were incapable of handling facts no matter how they were presented.
Maybe people were more capable of accepting the facts of heliocentricity
when it finally became general knowledge. Isn't it possible you needed
similar time to prepare?"
"You were more capable of accepting the facts because you deduced
what was happening? But I wasn't smart enough to use deductive
reasoning, so I wasn't capable?" His voice and his forearm became more
heated as she tapped into his buried anger and helped release it. Step
five complete.
"Don't play martyr. It demeans you. I didn't grow up in Jimmy
McCauley's world, I grew up in Cinnamon Brees's world. I dealt with
shock on a scale that was orders of magnitude greater. If you want to
absorb Wynter's facts with as little shock, then grow up in Cinnamon
Brees's world and deal with that shock every day. I wish I hadn't, but
I wouldn't trade places with you because you're my friend, and I
wouldn't want you to live through that. Life would be a lot easier for
Wynter if you had, but she wouldn't want you to grow up in it, either,
because she loves you."
His lip curled. "Assumption or hypothesis?"
"Fact. All of it. Including the fact that you couldn't handle
that key fact at issue before now. We think you were almost ready, but
not quite. You're proving that we were right."
His face turned incredulous. "I'm a Future Scientist. I plan to
spend my life looking for and discovering facts. I have to be able to
accept them. I will create new theories, and the odds are that most of
them will be disproved, and I'll have to live with that. But you! Both
of you treat me like I was Charlie Taylor instead of someone with the
maturity to handle unpleasant facts and be told that my world view was
wrong!"
She let him boil off his anger for almost ten minutes, calmly
countering his arguments and assumptions. Finally he said, "Look. You
two made up this bull... this manure about me being 'not able to handle
the facts' excuse because you never trusted me! Either one of you!"
Tensed muscle groups showed that he would rise from the couch with
his next argument. She had but one recourse, but she had no way to
convince Jimmy that what she was about to say was true. She rose to her
feet. When he started to rise she pushed down on his shoulder.
"Not yet," she said. "I need something." But she didn't see
anything suitable in the practice room. She called up a mental photo of
Jimmy's room and scanned it. The best choice seemed to be the drawing
she'd made of the deer and her baby from the day...
Her eyes jumped to the front of his shirt, and she dropped back to
the couch seat. Her hands fired out and unfastened the top button of
his shirt.
His hands rose. "CINNAMON! What...?"
She slapped his hands away. "Shut up. I know how to make you
understand." By then she'd unfastened the second button. She reached
inside and pulled out the arrowhead.
His anger suddenly changed to a look of miserable grief.
She yanked his left hand up by the wrist and turned it palm up.
She placed the arrowhead in his hand. He tried to pull away, but she
had the greater arm strength. She lay her own left hand palm down atop
the arrowhead, sandwiching it. With her right hand she gave a jerk to
his wrist, indicating he'd better not move his hand, and she then raised
it in testimony of her solemn oath.
"You say you can handle facts. Fine. Let's just see if you're the
one who's right and we're wrong about you. I swear on this arrowhead,
on my undying love for the one who gave this arrowhead to you, on the
undying love for you of the one who gave it to you, and on your undying
love for her that what I'm about to say is fact. It is not something I
have invented as a teaching point, as a test, as a joke; nor is it
anything else but pure, absolute, unvarnished fact. I fully realize
that what I'm about to say can damage our friendship, but if it does,
then as long as I've helped you and Sis the damage is an acceptable
price to me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"What?"
Slow and distinct again. "Do you understand what I'm saying? Do
you understand that I'm about to speak facts?"
"Well, if you say so, then I guess..."
"No guesses! You either understand or you don't. If this isn't
enough, name whatever you want me to swear on and I'll do it. I'm not
going to tell you until I know you understand and will believe me." She
waited.
Finally: "Okay. I believe you. I don't understand yet, but I
believe you, and I know that you will not be lying to me. So?"
"Jimmy McCauley, I'm head-over-heels in love with you."
His eyes said he was reminding himself that she had sworn to state
facts. Then they said he believed her and widened in what could only be
fear. He drew back. "So... Uh... You think Wynter is out of the
picture and are trying to catch me on the rebound?"
She gritted her teeth and throttled her furious disappointment. "Do
you have any idea how much I want to slap your head off your shoulders
right now?"
"Why?" His eyes drifted from hers to the arrowhead sandwiched
between their hands. He suddenly looked anxious instead of puzzled and
yanked his hand away, returning the arrowhead to its home inside his
shirt. "You really are telling me the truth?"
Disappointed, she shook her head. "You said you'd believe me, but
instead you're questioning my words. Do you think I'm lying to you
because you've just lied to me? Is that it? Well, if you need somebody
to vouch for my honesty, call Huntly. He's known about it since the day
after Wynter exploded at Kenny and me. He learned when we were
sunbathing with you at Wynter's. That's when I told him. Go ahead!
Call him."
Hurt flashed through his anxiety. "No! I'm sorry. I said I'd
tell you the truth, and I meant it. So, I guess you were telling the
truth, too."
"You guess?"
He hastily rebuttoned his shirt and pulled back farther from her.
"No. You're telling the truth. Maybe we should..." He glanced around
the room and looked over her shoulder at the door. He looked at her
again, his breathing rate now faster. "Why haven't you told me before?
Is that why you were willing to do it with me in your den when Wynter
asked?"
"Only in part. Mostly it was because Wynter wanted you to
understand, but you refused to. It was my way of helping her make you
understand. I'd have done it because she asked and because I truly
wanted to."
He blinked and tried to move back from her, but the arm of the
couch blocked him.
"Now you know the truth about how I feel, and you're pulling away
from me. You're panting and you're sweating. I thought you weren't
afraid of facts. Nothing changed between us except that you now know a
fact that you didn't know one minute ago, yet you've retreated back to
your old habit of panicking because we're alone together. Holy shit,
what would you have done if, instead of saying something as simple as
the fact that I'm in love with you, I'd said something like... like... I
don't know... I fuck my father, too? Would you have gone catatonic or
just died on the spot?"
He paused in his attempt to scoot away and thought. His pupils
expanded and he pushed back hard enough to cause the couch arm to
groan. "Are you saying you and Doctor Brees..."
"Hold it, buster! Don't get your panties in a twist. You told me
you could handle any fact. I stated the fact that I'm in love with
you. I am saying that you just proved that you couldn't handle a simple
fact. I used a hypothetical example to illustrate my point. You
abandoned the fact to concentrate on the example because you can't
handle the fact!"
She glanced at the wall clock. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. Why
don't you sit here, by yourself so that you don't have any of those
bothersome people around who love you, and think about the way you
reacted to that new fact. When you're done and you're sure you
understand, then think about why Wynter waited and tried to prepare
you. And if you decide you can't handle facts after all, maybe you
should consider abandoning science and becoming a lawyer or politician.
Your mom will call you when dinner is ready, but if I were you, I'd not
move until she calls."
She rose, holding him down by his shoulder, and kissed the top of
his head. He flinched. "Think about what you did just then, too. I'll
leave the door open so you can hear your mom."
As she expected, she found his mother awaiting details and full of
questions. She put her fists on her hips and looked up at a woman
acting in honest, true-mother concern.
"Hold it! Yes, I was here to counsel him. I told you it was about
the music, but I didn't think for a moment that you'd believe my story.
Yes, it has something to do with Wynter. No, it's not really serious.
It's something he's let temporarily overwhelm his common sense."
"But..."
She held up a hand. "Wait. Didn't you two ever have a trivial
argument that seemed to be a huge deal at the time, so you blew it out
of proportion, but now you hope nobody, especially your parents, ever
finds out about it or you'll die? It's bad enough that I know and that
her parents know. He's almost catatonic because of that. If his own
ancient and doddering parents who were never young find out, God forbid,
he'll be laid out in Maurer's by sundown, and you'll be ordering a
tombstone through them that says, "Died of embarrassment."
Mrs. McCauley chuckled. "Well, yes. Keith and I had two or three
of those, one of which we avoid mentioning to this day."
"Then don't ask any questions, for Wynter's sake as well as
Jimmy's. If I learn you did ask, I'll not stop until I discover all of
your secrets and spread them to everyone in town. I can do that."
"I know." She smiled but her eyes said she believed the threat.
"I'll make sure Keith understands, too. Thanks, Cinnamon. Sometimes I
don't know if Jimmy or Wynter is luckiest to have you for a friend."
Her eyes narrowed, squeezed by the round cheeks pushed up by her
smile. "As long as I have them for friends, I'm the luckiest of all.
You can never have too many friends, you know. Oh: Suzie will call him
later. Tell him I said he wants to talk to her."
Mrs. McCauley laughed and hugged her like Cinnamon was her own
daughter, and she was reminded once again of what she'd missed out on
while Daddy had been married to the bitch.
"Cinnamon, what would men do if they didn't have us women to take
care of them?"
She grinned. "Let's hope for their sake they never have to find out."
As she pedaled her bike down the street she reviewed what she'd
said to Jimmy and his mother. She'd deflected questions and allowed
each to draw an erroneous conclusion, but she hadn't lied. That was
what mattered. She grabbed her cell phone, punched the speed dial code,
and held a rapid one-way conversation except for the "Hello?" on the
other end when Mom transferred the call.
"Don't call him! Give him time to think now that he remembers how
to. Everything will be fine in the morning. You can stop worrying and
relax. No questions now. The details can wait until tomorrow. I love
you, Sis. See you at school."
Now the problem was Suzie. She knew that Suzie could provide the
finishing touches without having to be told the nature of the problem.
Unfortunately she was only eighty percent certain that Jimmy wouldn't
blurt out the actual situation. Suzie wouldn't tell anyone else,
especially Kenny and Hailey Suzie wasn't dumb, like some people
mistakenly thought but there was a small chance that she'd become
another patient for Doctor Cinnamon if that happened.
She'd missed out on so much because she'd been spawned by the
bitch. But, by damn, it had prepared her to help her friends when they
needed her. The cost was astronomical, but it had been worth every
minute of the pain, anger, and frustration she'd lived through because
she could help her friends. You could never have too many friends.
She pedaled faster and wiped her eyes on her sleeves. Daddy should
be home by the time she arrived, assuming no complications had arisen at
the hospital. She hoped so. She needed to be held and loved.
Chapter 4
Jimmy fidgeted impatiently on his bike at the end of his driveway,
looking up the street for his first glimpse. He'd left the house early,
just in case she did the same. He thought of the brief phone call from
Suzie the night before. A year ago she'd been the most self-centered
snotty person ever. Well, maybe not exactly snotty. But stubborn was
super-accurate. Until the mine and her sudden interest in Kenny
afterward, she'd doggedly chased after Jimmy as her replacement for
Chipper Jones, his best friend besides Kenny, whose entire family had
been killed in a wreck. She tried to turn Jimmy away from Wynter
because she'd wanted him, refusing to take "NO!" for an answer.
Who'd have guessed the change in her in less than twelve months?
If he hadn't had Wynter he'd still have refused Suzie until she gave up
and went elsewhere, maybe Kenny, maybe not.
And he'd have made a mistake almost as big as the one he'd almost
made with Wynter because he'd overlooked the person inside. The person
who'd cut through the b.s. in an economy of effort...
~ ~ ~
Jimmy sighed into the phone. "Suzie, I can't tell you what our
problem is, and Cinnamon said she wouldn't tell you, so I don't see how
this can help."
"I don't know, either," she replied. "But Cinnamon said I could
help or something, and she's always right, so I guess I can. You helped
me with Kenny, so I want ever so much to help you in return. Did you
and Wynter have some kind of disagreement or something?"
"Something."
"Do you still love her?"
"Well, yes."
"Does she still love you?"
"I guess. Well, yes. She said so."
"There you go! That's what's important, not some stupid
misunderstanding or different opinions. If Kenny and I can be okay
after something as big as our stupid problem, then you and Wynter can be
okay, too. Our stupid problem was before now. Was yours before now, too?"
"Well... I guess... Well, yes. It was."
"Then you don't really have any stupid problem, do you? Look,
Cinnamon said I'm supposed to tell you that you can't talk to her
tonight or something, but I think it might be okay if you just called
and told her you love her and will talk to her tomorrow."
~ ~ ~
He was brought back to the present by a soft, "Jimmy?"
He jumped and almost tipped over his bike. "I didn't know you were
there!"
Wynter's head lowered, but she smiled. "You went someplace else
again, didn't you?"
He nodded. "Somewhen else would be more accurate, I guess. Last
night. Suzie's phone call."
She smiled, all coral lips and perfect white teeth. "She called me
first. In maybe two minutes she made me understand that everything
would be better today. I knew she could do the same for you, and I
stopped worrying."
He grinned and nodded. "Yeah. In less than a minute for me."
She held out a hand. "We're lucky to have her."
He took the hand in his own and squeezed. "I was thinking that if
I didn't have you, I'd have turned her down anyway, and that would have
been a mistake."
The smile turned into a sly grin. "Yes. But then you'd be
available for Sis."
"I still don't see how anyone as wonderful as her could be
interested in me."
When her face clouded, he quickly added, "One is unbelievable, two
is a miracle, but three of you violates all the laws of probability."
She grinned. "Good save! Can I have a kiss?"
"Of course. Wynter, I'm sorry..."
She didn't wait to hear what he was sorry about and almost knocked
him off his bike.
~ ~ ~
Marti smiled to herself and moved away from the bedroom window,
giving her son and Future Daughter some small measure of privacy for
their public display of affection. Of love. Their silly disagreement
was no longer an issue. Score a big one for true love. Something
ridiculously stupid had almost cost her Keith a couple of times. The
only good part had been the making up with each other afterward; so
good, in fact, that it was worth the argument. Especially that one
glorious time when... She stopped short of the door, turned, and stared
at the bed. And smiled.
Maybe she'd call Keith and tell him that his lunch would be a nooner.
~ ~ ~
She didn't even know he was there. She was off to the side of the
hall, where her wheelchair wouldn't be in the way and people wouldn't
bump her leg or something, talking to Cinnamon and Huntly and Hailey and
Kenny when all of a sudden he appeared. Like he was one of Huntly's
magic tricks. "POOF!" and there he was! Before she could say anything
he leaned over, wrapped his arms around her in an ever so nice hug, and
kissed her. Really kissed her! Not with tongues or anything like that,
but with honest, genuine love that she felt.
She heard a soft thud of an arm against a stomach or chest or
something and Cinnamon saying, "Hold it buster!" obviously to Kenny.
Then she heard Wynter talking to her dolt, but she ignored it. She
ignored everything but Jimmy. She knew why she was getting that kiss.
It was a thank-you kiss that said Jimmy was ever so grateful for her
helping him with whatever the stupid problem had been, and Suzanne
Middleton enjoyed it for its meaning.
When he pulled his face back he gave her the grin-and-nod he almost
never gave anyone but Wynter. That made her feel ever so special. "I
love you, too," he said. She knew what he meant. He was deferring back
to what she said when he'd helped with her stupid problem with her dolt.
She grinned. "Does this mean we're still friends?"
Jimmy made a face like he'd bitten into a sour apple or something.
"You've been spending entirely too much time around Uncle Bozo Junior
and Huntly. You're picking up their bad habits."
She giggled as he turned to the smaller redhead and said, "You're
next." He leaned toward Huntly and said, not asked, "You don't mind."
"Of course I don't mind," Huntly said, also leaning toward him and
adding in a whisper, "You do know what's going to happen, don't you?"
By now Suzie had discovered what those words meant. She guessed the
reason she heard them was because the hall had gone quiet because
everyone was watching them or something.
"I'll cover for her," Jimmy whispered back.
Huntly laughed and spoke up. "Tell you what, Jimbo: just so
Doctor Cutie doesn't feel left out, I'll make her happy."
Wynter beat Jimmy and Kenny in the race to be the first to say,
"You're going to leave?"
Huntly looked like Wynter had slapped him. "Aw, man!"
While everyone else laughed, Jimmy leaned down and kissed
Cinnamon. Suzie started counting. She knew what to watch for, and she
saw it on five. Cinnamon had got off from a combination of Jimmy's kiss
and her own thigh masturbation trick. Jimmy kept kissing her while she
recovered.
"Mister McCauley?"
Principal Peters' voice caused Suzie to jump. She'd been so busy
watching Cinnamon cumming that she didn't see the principal coming.
Jimmy straightened and turned to the principal. "Yes, sir?"
"The school does have rules about public displays of affection, as
I recall."
Suzie could see Jimmy's grin even though he had his back to her.
"Yes, sir. But it doesn't have rules about thanking people who stop you
when you're about to make a very stupid mistake."
Principal Peters leaned around Jimmy. "That was a thank you?"
Suzie nodded and grinned. "Yes, sir. A nice thank you, too."
"I see." He turned to Cinnamon and asked the same question.
"Yes, sir," she said. "No offense intended to you, sir, but
Jimmy's almost-mistake was far bigger than he wants to admit because
he's only a male and suffers from male pride. Fortunately he had enough
ladies around to keep him from ruining his life. This time. Tomorrow
we plan to teach him how to tie his shoe laces by himself."
"I see." He looked at Jimmy. "There aren't any rules about
thanking people?"
"No, sir."
He shook his head. "I wonder how we missed that one." He winked
and went off to his office.
"Hey!" said Hailey with a horny grin. Suzie guessed that was the
only kind of grin Hailey knew. "Is it, like, my turn to be thanked?"
Cinnamon snorted like a horse with a head cold or something. "For
what, Cuz?"
Hailey slipped her hips to one side and put her hands on them, her
fingers wide apart. "I am so the positive that we can, like, think of
something later."
"Sorry," Jimmy said as Wynter stuck herself to his side and let her
hand find its resting place on his back. "I just ran out of thank-yous."
"Shit!" Hailey said, real quiet-like so that Suzie read her lips
more than she heard her. "I, like, never get to have any fun!"
Jimmy suddenly grinned at her as the bell rang for first period.
"Maybe I'll have more later, after you think of a reason."
Suzie was too busy laughing at the look on Hailey's face to think
about why Cinnamon and Wynter had nodded to each other like they'd just
tied for a gold medal in the hundred yard freestyle.
~ ~ ~
Wynter sure was thrilled that she and Jimmy had Mister Shelby for
home room. What was even better was that Suzie, Cinnamon, Huntly, and
Kenny were with them. She'd have been just a little suspicious that
Mister Shelby'd had something to do with that if it wasn't for the fact
that the Hargus Four Plus Two had all of their classes together. Fourth
period, just before lunch, they even had boys' PE and girls' PE at the
same time, except for Cinnamon, who had marching band.
Because of that, Wynter suspected someone even shorter than Mister
Shelby. Someone with long, cinnamon-red hair who knew how to bargain
with Principal Peters from a position of strength, using her ability to
raise funds for the school as leverage, as Jimmy put it. She knew
better than to ask Sis, though. Since she didn't already know, asking
would just be a waste of breath.
Mister Shelby entered and took roll with a glance. He already knew
the two new boys and new girl by sight after just one morning. "Seats,
please. Sit anywhere," he said when the bell rang. Mister Shelby had
told Jimmy that summer that he'd decided to do away with assigned
seating as a rule, unless he needed to "break up groups of miscreants."
When everyone was seated he said, "Welcome to the first real day of
school. Let's get the announcements out of the way first, and then
we'll sell lunch tokens for the cafeteria. Mister Gagnon, you can be
the broker for the stock exchange today."
Timmy Gagnon nodded. "Yes, sir."
"And you don't get a broker's commission."
Timmy snapped his fingers. "Darn. There goes that new Ferrari."
Mister Shelby eyed him, then slipped a thumb behind his left
suspender at the shoulder and frowned down his nose. "You spent too
much of the summer with Mister Sheridan, didn't you?"
Huntly gave Mister Shelby a disdainful look. "I resemble that
remark!" he said.
"You do," Mister Shelby agreed. "Most unfortunately. "
"Aw, man!" Huntly moaned, his words drowned by the laughter from
everyone else.
"Okay, the announcements. Your attention, please! Anyone who
doesn't listen to me will have to spend next summer with Mister Sheridan."
Wynter giggled at the way Huntly glanced around the room when it
suddenly went deathly silent.
The announcements included school rules, to include changes from
the previous year's rules. Those had been covered on the first day, but
the teachers were required to announce them every day for the first
week. "I can understand why other classes would need them repeated,"
Mister Shelby said in apology, "because all the smart seventh graders
are in my home room. The fact that others asked for some other home
room evidences their questionable intelligence and judgment."
Sis led the applause.
Mister Shelby hooked both thumbs behind suspenders. "If you people
think you can bribe me with mere accolades," he paused and looked about
dramatically, "you're right. Speaking of accolades, those of you
needing applause for personal growth will be pleased to learn that you
don't have to wait until next spring.
"Principal Peters and Superintendent Harman and the school board
have decided that the school can confiscate even more parental money by
having a first semester talent show, too. It will be the weekend before
Thanksgiving. They have the crazy notion that people will actually pay
to come out in potential blizzard conditions to see their little
darlings perform rather than sit warm and comfortable at home and listen
to the cat heave up furballs."
Wynter glanced at Sis, who was now looking at Mister Shelby in what
Wynter called her "curious pose." No. She's not looking at Mister
Shelby. She's gone someplace else. As she realized that, Sis suddenly
returned to here and now. She turned her head to Wynter and nodded.
Mister Shelby noticed, too. He missed very little in his classes.
"I see Miss Brees already has her act planned."
Huntly groaned. "Aw, MAN! I was looking forward to a relaxing
fall since I can't play football. Now I have to be the star in a band
again?"
"I hope it's as a guitar player, Huntly," said Katie Wilson. "If
you're going to be the comedian, your parents will stay at home and
listen to the cat."
"We don't have a cat."
"That's no problem," said Mister Shelby in his clipped voice. "I
shall take pity on them and arrange for them to adopt one."
Huntly sighed, sagged, and muttered, "Aw, man! Rodney Dangerfield
gets more respect."
Wynter laughed along with everyone else. Everyone but Kenny. He'd
also gone someplace else, wearing a dark look like a gathering storm.
It wasn't the same look he had at the onset of his mysterious abdominal
illness. Wynter filed the symptoms away for future diagnosis.
Mister Shelby closed with a reminder about Thursday's home football
game and said that since nobody had homework or study assignments, the
game closet was open. Most students broke up into groups that gathered
around a board game. Suzie and Kenny joined the Watkins cousins for a
game of Parcheesi. Brin Kwan challenged Mister Shelby to a chess game.
Wynter wanted to watch that because Brin was good, able to make Mister
Shelby sweat and worry about "losing to a mere child" half the time, but
she knew Sis would call a band meeting and would want her there, too.
The meeting convened in the far back corner.
"What about something off Tyrone's CD?" Jimmy asked. "It will be
released by then."
Huntly shook his head. "We'd be asking too much of him," he said.
"Between football practice and band practice, he'd be hard pressed to
keep up with his school work. Besides, that's the weekend before the
big game."
Thanksgiving afternoon and evening always featured the annual
rivalry game between Griffin and Parkman Middle Schools, followed by the
rivalry game between Dunne and Horace Tabor High Schools, with both
games played on the host high school's field. This year the games would
be played down the road at Tabor High. For all four schools a final
standing of one-and-eleven for the year was considered a winning season
if the one was the Thanksgiving game.
"Huntly's right," Sis said as she scooped back her long red hair.
"We'll wait until after football season before we do anything that he
needs to rehearse."
"Agreed," Jimmy said. "So we either do Dancing again or we do
something without Tyrone. We should ask him if he wants to, but not
force him to perform."
"No," said Huntly with a forceful shake of his head. "He'd want to
rehearse Dancing with us anyway. Asking is forcing him. You know how
he is. He won't say no to us. And if he asks us, we'll say that we're
saving him until the spring show and maybe a half-time performance
during a basketball game." He looked at Cinnamon. "Is the principal
still talking about that?"
Sis nodded and grinned. "He wants us so bad that we could probably
ask for and get a percentage of the proceeds from the fundraiser."
Jimmy focused somewhere past the wall. "I wonder if he's asked
Brinkly, too."
Sis's grin remained. "Not yet."
"I have an idea," said Huntly with a look that said he expected a
snide retort. "It's three or four days before Suzie's birthday. We
could introduce Suzie's Victory early."
"No!" Jimmy barked. Then he lowered his voice so Suzie wouldn't
hear. "It's personal. It's Suzie's birthday present. She gets it on
her birthday."
Nobody would have argued even if Jimmy had not been so emphatic.
Huntly spread his hands and looked apologetic. "Naturally, it's your
call, Jimbo. I was just making a suggestion. I was hoping that the
suggestions rule would be similar to the questions rule. You know.
It's okay to suggest something without people getting mad. Maybe the
suggestion itself isn't a good idea, but maybe it might inspire the answer."
"Okay," Jimmy said. "You're right. Good thinking. I'm sorry.
Now, what about Brinkly?"
Sis shrugged. "Nothing yet, of course. Otter Park rules again:
we expect the worst from her. She may try to sabotage us again, or she
may have learned her lesson. If any of you want to bet on that last
one, I'll give you six-to-one odds, you name the stakes."
Wynter's blonde pony tail lashed as she shook her head. "Not even
at fifty-to-one."
"I agree with Wynter," Jimmy said.
"While I sometimes doubt Jimbo's sanity," Huntly said, "he's right
to agree with Doctor Cutie. I say no way has she learned."
Sis blinked. "You people are getting too smart. Okay, we don't
know what she'll do. We go for beating her with talent again, all the
while assuming that she will try something nasty again."
"Well," Huntly said, looking at Cinnamon like he thought she was
playing mind games, "you still have a spy in her group, don't you?"
The little drummer said nothing. She merely smiled at Huntly.
Wynter thought that must be what a mouse saw just before a snake ate
it. Her autonomic reflexes triggered a strong shiver.
Jimmy noticed, took her hand, and sighed. "Our problem is that
we're instrumental and The Brink of Disaster is both vocal and
instrumental. That makes them more flexible. I know we're primarily a
surf band, but surf isn't just instrumental."
"Okay," Cinnamon said in her professional voice that was the
equivalent of Wynter's voice when she discussed medical matters. "Do we
get ourselves a vocalist?"
Wynter's autonomic reflexes made her look at Possum Watkins. She
jerked her eyes back to Cinnamon. Sis had her head cocked to the right,
staring at her without blinking. Sis nodded and said quietly, "I just
don't see her doing rock and roll, even after she gets over it."
Wynter sure couldn't see that, either, especially since Brinkly's
attempt to bully Possum into singing for The Brink of Disaster was what
had undone part of Cinnamon's attempts to help the shy girl recover from
her horrid experience with Matthew Wylie.
Jimmy, of course, understood immediately and nodded agreement at
Wynter. Huntly needed another moment to realize what they were talking
about, then added his concurrence.
Wynter sighed. "I don't know who you'd get. Auditions would tip
off Brinkly. Also, would you want the vocalist to be a sometimes-guest,
like me, or a regular member of the Twins?"
"Thanks to the spring talent show we have a good idea of who can
sing and who needs to have a vocalcordectomy for the good of humanity,"
said Huntly with a shrug. "And we know who's pissed at her over what
she did to Possum. Those people won't talk."
"Maybe," Jimmy said in the distant voice that said he was still
diagnosing as he spoke, "we don't need to worry about that for now.
Mister Shelby was right. We might have twenty people show up because of
weather in November. If we need to surprise her with a singer or
anything major, save it for spring show when more people would be there
to see it. But we should listen to Dad and LaMarcus before we decide.
Finnegan, too. They're part of the band, too, and they might see
something we overlooked."
Sis blinked at Jimmy, then at Wynter in the way that said she
realized she'd overlooked something obvious. "If you want to change
your mind and give me Jimmy, I'll accept. I promise."
"Nah," Wynter said with a hand flip of dismissal. "If I give you
Jimmy, all the other girls in the school would suffer anxiety disorder
and blame me because Huntly was loose again."
"Hey!" Huntly barked in a very disdainful tone. "When did this
become Pick On Huntly Day?"
Three voices chorused without hesitation: "June ninth, nineteen
ninety-one."
"Aw, man!"
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon's long red hair rippled as she shook her head. They were
waiting for Kenny to decide on a description while circling a hand in
the air and repeating "...like... like... like..."
"Watermelons?"suggested Huntly in a bored voice. He wanted to
change the subject.
"Yeah!" agreed Kenny with a look of triumph. "She's got tits the
size of Rocky Ford watermelons. Now that's my idea of the perfect
sex-ed teacher."
"You putz," said Jimmy as he closed his locker and attached the
lock. "Last month you said Cinnamon was your idea of a perfect sex-ed
teacher."
"Really?" asked Suzie in a voice cold enough to frost windshields
in July. "I thought I was his stupid idea of perfection. Maybe you
should escort me to class, Jimmy."
Jimmy bowed. "I would be delighted, my lady."
"Hey!" whined Kenny. "What about Wynter?" Then he brightened.
"Wait! Does this mean I get to escort her?"
Wynter shook her head. "You'd better not, Kenny. The
psychological trauma of being stuck with someone with tits as small as
mine, especially where the public can see you, could cause you decades
of neuroses requiring expensive clinical psychotherapy on a daily
basis. Not even Sis could help you with that. I'll just let Huntly and
Sis escort me to health class for your own good."
Cinnamon waited until Huntly opened his mouth, then said, "Better
think before you speak, or you might join Kenny in cruising a long
stretch of abstinence, there, shithead."
His attitude turned haughty. "I was merely going to say that I
would be honored to bask in the presence of such charming and elegant
adopted sisters, that escorting the two of you would be immeasurably
humbling and rewarding, that escorting the two of you would more than
make up for all the crap I've put up with today, and that as far as I'm
concerned, you both have perfect tits."
"Suuuure," Wynter drawled. "And just when did you decide to say that?"
Huntly grinned and squeezed Cinnamon's shoulders with his free
arm. "The instant bitch threatened to cut me off."
Jimmy laughed and took his position behind Suzie's wheelchair.
"Huntly might not be the brightest candle in the darkness," he said,
"but at least he's honest."
"Why, thank you, Jimbo!" Huntly's smile turned into a frown. "I
think." The frown shifted to Kenny and changed back into a smile. "I'm
going to do you a favor, Boy Blunder. I'm going to let you walk along
behind us--several feet behind us--and carry Wynter's books so that she
will have a free arm for each of us."
Kenny started to complain, but his glance fell on Suzie. He
smiled. "Of course. Anything for Wynter, especially since you aren't
man enough to carry your own books AND hers."
Jimmy laughed. "One point, Kenny."
Huntly slumped like a bad souffle. "Aw, man!"
The trip to the classroom was short, but it was enough for Cinnamon
to notice that people were slower getting out of the way of Suzie's
wheelchair when Jimmy pushed it than they were when Kenny pushed.
Ms. Beard wasn't in the classroom when they arrived, but she had
posted a seating chart. They found their desks and deposited their
books. Jimmy steadied the wheelchair while Kenny helped Suzie out of it
and into her desk seat as the first bell rang.
The room quickly filled with students, most complaining about
lunch. Peter Kwan and Larry Oligion asked Jimmy if he could identify
the meat used in the never-popular often-served chili-mac. Jimmy
replied that he wasn't sure it was meat and gave three reasons.
Cinnamon couldn't decide whether she agreed with Jimmy or thought he,
too, had spent too much of his time with Huntly.
Her eyes shifted, scanning the room. She noted the way several of
the girls were looking at Jimmy. Obviously word of Jimmy's
"appreciation" had gotten around, and now the girls were wondering if he
had become available. She noted their disappointed reaction when
Wynter's hand found its home on his back.
"Yeah," she softly whispered to herself, "I know exactly how you
feel." If they knew the truth, they'd call her an idiot for helping
Wynter keep him. Perhaps they'd be right. But while she might revel in
the pain of some, such as that drug-dealing De Ramirez bastard who had
tried to kill them, she couldn't profit from the pain of the adopted
sister she loved.
The thought of De Ramirez caused her gaze to shift to Kenny. Suzie
was no longer pretending to be angry while he fussed over her. He
looked as happy as a clam. And yet...
And yet there was something in his eyes that was different. People
often failed to realize how much of the foundation for her deductions
about people came from observations of the eyes. The difference in
Jimmy was so obvious that anyone who knew him could see it. With Kenny
the difference was subtle, but she could see it. Ron could see it. She
thought Suzie could see it, too, but was ignoring it, likely through
deliberate intent.
The back of her mind began working on the right way to bring up the
question with Suzie.
The noise level dropped. Ms. Beard had entered the room. Cinnamon
stopped blinking, and she simultaneously squinted and opened her eyes
slightly wider. Her head tilted to the right without conscious
direction, and her breathing became slow and shallow as if the sound of
it might interfere with her hearing.
Ms. Beard was tall, almost five-ten when you subtracted the height
of her heels. Most teachers here didn't wear high heels, so it was a
power statement to establish who was in charge on the first day and to
discourage humorous comments based on the subject matter. The wardrobe
confirmed her deduction. The clothes were solidly middle class, but
they fit like they were tailor-made. The light wool skirt and jacket
were dark blue with faint, narrow pinstriping of a slightly lighter
shade, and the white blouse with the small ruffles was silk. The gold
jewelry was simple and tasteful except for an antique ring on her right
ring finger. It had important sentimental value. The woman's makeup
was understated, designed to complement, not define. It was a woman's
equivalent of the strictly-business wear of Grandfather Grenville and
the other power brokers of Old Money Boston. She understood clothing
and how to use it to her advantage at the subconscious level.
Intelligence radiated from pale blue eyes that sparkled as they
surveyed the class. Her smiles and nods were friendly yet
authoritative. Eighty percent probability she practices expressions and
walking in front of a mirror the way I do. She had more freckles than
Cinnamon and Jimmy, fewer than Alyssa. Her round cheeks weren't quite
as full as Cinnamon's. The woman's breasts were as large as Cinnamon
expected hers to be in her own mid-thirties. She wasn't wearing
foundation garments, but the cut of her business suit de-emphasized
slightly wide hips. I approve.
"Good afternoon, class. Welcome to the first period after lunch.
The bell will ring in just a moment. Could you please begin finding
your seats? We have a lot to cover."
Immediate establishment of who's in charge. I like her!
While the students took seats the woman turned to the board and
neatly wrote in large block letters, "MS. BEARD." The room quieted
suddenly, allowing Cinnamon to catch the end of a comment in a familiar
voice. From the way Ms. Beard's shoulders tensed it was obvious that
she'd heard it, too. She turned and looked toward that corner of the room.
"Hello, class. I am Ms. Judi Beard. That's 'Ms.' and not 'Miss'
or 'Mrs.' We don't use sexist terms in Health and Human Sexuality
class. Welcome to the most closely monitored subject in the school
system. I was going to have you introduce yourselves in alphabetical
order, but we seem to have a volunteer who wants to go first. Which of
you... gentlemen made that comment?"
Most of the class laughed at the pause in that sentence. Cinnamon
noted the precise timing for maximum effect. She also noted the woman's
subtle accent. Ohio, she decided based on the rhythm and the stress on
certain vowel sounds. Probably Cincinnati or Dayton.
"Come on, now. Don't be shy, especially in this class. I'm sure
some of the others missed your attempt at humor. It's not fair to
entertain only part of the class, nor should you make 'manly' comments
if you aren't man enough to own up to them. I do not believe in mass
punishment, so please don't force me to fall back on that as a last resort."
Cinnamon wondered if Ms. Beard stumbled onto the right thing to say
or if the woman knew that she'd taken the exactly right approach for
this guilty party.
Kenny rose to stand beside his seat. "That would be me, ma'am."
Ms. Beard glanced at the seating chart. "Ah, yes. Principal
Peters warned me about you. Would you mind repeating your observation
for those in the class who missed it?"
Cinnamon watched the teacher. She did not appear surprised that
Kenny wasn't embarrassed as he said, "I said I wondered if your 'beard'
matched the hair on your head, ma'am."
"I see. It's so nice of you to show me that the principal was
right by living down to your reputation as the class clown, Mister
Sheridan."
"Aw, man!" cut through the laughter from the rest of the class.
Kenny pointed across his body and down to the seat in front of
him. "Ms. Beard, this is Mister Sheridan. I'm Kenny Taylor."
The woman looked at the seating chart and nodded. "I've heard
about you, too. My error. I should have paid closer attention. I did
not intend to confuse the class clown with the class pervert."
While the classroom roared with laughter, Cinnamon tried to decide
whether the confusion was deliberate. Either way, Judi Beard had both
established that she was in charge and bonded with the students.
Cinnamon filed the details in her bag of tricks for future use.
"Should I go to the office now, ma'am?"
"Do you think anyone in the office could teach you more than I
could, Mister Taylor?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then sit down, Mister Taylor. I'm afraid you'll have to live in
ignorance. This class does discuss human sexuality, but there are no
live models, no demonstrations of procedures, no laboratory exercises,
and no assigned practical exercises for homework. This isn't a class to
satisfy your prurient interests. It's a class to help you understand
how your bodies work and why and to cope with the impact its functions
have on your mind and your actions. It's a legitimate class the same as
algebra, history, and civics, not a young comedians' training academy.
The sooner you understand that, the sooner you can begin to learn.
Which reminds me."
Ms. Beard's eyes shifted to Cinnamon's row and scanned the long red
hair in the second seat. "You would be Ms. Brees, the cousin of Ms.
Kennedy in my home room."
Cinnamon nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
"You have my sympathies." Laughter again exploded, then died in a
sweep of those pale blue eyes. "I understand your father is the head of
obstetrics at the hospital. I hope you won't be bored in this class."
Cinnamon shrugged. "Ms. Beard, it doesn't matter how much someone
knows going into a class. Only idiots and fools fail to learn something
new."
The woman smiled and gave her the faintest of nods.
"But, you must know that I'm not the most qualified to take over
teaching this class from you."
"I know," Ms. Beard replied as her eyes shifted to Sis. "I
recognize Ms. King from television and the newspapers. But we'll get to
her in turn. I want each of you to stand up, introduce yourself, and
tell me a little about you. I'm Judi Beard. I was born in Hamilton,
Ohio, thirty-four years ago and graduated with a bachelor's degree in
physical education from Ohio State and a master's degree in education
from Purdue. I've played basketball, volleyball, soccer, swimming, and
golf in high school and college. I was good in all those sports, but I
wasn't the equal of the champion swimmer we have in this class." She
smiled at Suzie as she said that last sentence.
"I've taught in Indiana and Pennsylvania as well as in Colorado. I
moved here after three years teaching in Fort Collins because I wanted
to live in the mountains near a ski resort, and the job came open when
Mister Scott left to become a vice-principal in the Cherry Creek district.
"Now you can tell me about yourselves. We'll start with you,
Mister Avanti."
Scott Avanti rose and began. Cinnamon glanced toward Suzie, but
her eyes were immediately drawn beyond to the dark frown on Kenny's
face. He was 'someplace else,' and he was seething inside. She was
ninety-five percent certain that it had nothing to do with the incident
in class.
Kenny was one of the toughest nuts she'd ever had to crack. How
the heck could she get through to him this time?
Chapter 5
Cinnamon yanked up her panties, flushed, hustled to her lavatory,
and shoved her hands under the faucet. She squirted liquid soap into
one palm, wrung her hands maybe once, and shoved them under the faucet
again. She mostly dried them, scurried out to her room, and jumped into
the shorts that replaced the jeans she'd worn to school. The jeans
that, except for one leg, were now in her clothes hamper. She snatched
a tee shirt out of a drawer and pulled it over her head as she flew out
of her room and down the hall to the central staircase, hot on the heels
of Ghost.
The afternoon's plan had been for everyone to do homework at her
house, have dinner there, and then discuss the wedding performance
details when LaMarcus and Mister McCauley arrived. LaMarcus and Tyrone,
who were supposed to be at football practice, had passed them in
Reggie's car as the gang waited at the corner by the school to cross
Cheyenne Road. She'd wondered if that meant that LaMarcus would be late
for the meeting, though he usually gave advance warning.
Wynter's father had turned onto Seabridge Trail immediately after
that. The way Jimmy waved at Mister King had told her that Jimmy was,
indeed, okay with Sis's relationship with her father. She'd deleted the
prudectomy from her to-do list and moved the afternoon's plan to her
number one concern. That plan was immediately put on delay when she saw
the UPS driver parked in front of her house down the street, carrying a
large parcel to her front door. She'd have had everyone run with her to
the house if not for Suzie. Instead she had fidgeted all the way.
She'd given Huntly her backpack at the north entrance, then raced
Ghost upstairs to change while Hailey led the remainder to the dining
room to deposit books and backpacks. She'd barely heard Wynter caution
her to be careful on the stairs to avoid an accident. While changing
clothes she had decided to drain the swamp to prevent an "accident"
caused by her excitement.
As she reached the top of the main staircase she fumbled the tee
shirt into place, thinking it felt strange. She must be outgrowing it.
She scooped out her hair as she scrambled down the stairs, her mind
reciting the lecture she knew she'd get if Sis saw her, and dashed
through the double doors into the kitchen, where she called a
perfunctory greeting to Rosita.
And stopped at the entrance to the family room.
Finnegan, with the assistance of Huntly, Jimmy, and Kenny, was
completing the assembly of her electronic kettledrums and gongs. Not
that the boys had much to do, because they were four eight-inch
electronic sensors mounted in a rectangular metal case. All they had to
do was attach legs to the frame and wire the drums to an amplifier. But
how did they get that toolbox from the garage, open the shipping carton,
and assemble the pieces that quickly?
"HEY!" she growled. Her attitude surprised her. Why am I angry?
Am I jealous that they got their hands on my new toy before I did?
They're trying to help me get my hands on it sooner.
Huntly looked up from his task. "We're just putting it together
for a quick test," he said. "You can set it up the way you want it at
Jimmy's."
She blinked at him in confusion. "At Jimmy's?"
He gave her an odd look. "Yeah. It's going in the practice room,
isn't it? Or are you not going to play it during our practice sessions?"
I never thought about that! I'm only thirteen and already I'm
forgetting important details! I'm going to be senile by twenty! "Yes,"
she said. Her voice turned apologetic. "It is. Thanks. You guys are
the greatest!"
"I know I am," Kenny said as he put his wrench in the tool box.
"I'm not sure you can say that about the rest of these clowns, though."
"You dolt!" Suzie groaned from the sofa, where she sat between
Wynter and Hailey.
"No, no!" Huntly said, pointing his socket wrench at Kenny. "He's
right, Suzie. He's the greatest horse's ass I've ever seen."
After the laughter died Kenny snarled, "Bite my..." He focused
behind Cinnamon and raised his eyebrows.
"I'm sorry to interrupt this intriguing intellectual conversation,"
Rosita said, settling her hands on Cinnamon's shoulders, "but, one, the
first batch of cookies is done, and two, I want to see what I've been
hearing about since she ordered those."
"You're about to," said Finnegan as he plugged the wires into an
amplifier and switched it on. "It's ready if you guys are finished."
Huntly shrugged. "We're waiting on Jimbo."
"I'm just checking Kenny's work," Jimmy replied. "I might trust
him sewing up a cut, but him doing mechanical work is another story."
Huntly frowned at Kenny, then jerked a thumb at him. "I'm not sure
I'd trust him with a needle and thread. Certainly not the way I'd trust
Doctor Cutie."
"Looks like Kenny's work is fine. Do you want me to attach this
last bolt for you?"
Huntly stared in disbelief at the empty hole, then endured the
laughter with a pained, "Aw, man!"
Cinnamon gave him her best smirk. "Glass houses, shithead," she
said. She slipped out of Rosita's hands and went to her drum kit.
Huntly shook his head, then flopped his arms in frustration.
"Where do you want this contraption, bitch?"
"I guess this is just a test, so leave it there. We'll position it
in the practice room." She pulled the mallets she wanted from the stick
holder. She could have used any of her drumsticks, or even her bare
fingers, but it felt right to use her string-wrapped persimmon mallets.
"No, when Jimmy's finished doing your job, give it a quarter turn
clockwise."
"Done," announced Jimmy. He straightened and then turned the rack
himself so that she would be facing everyone when she played. "It's all
yours."
Cinnamon stood behind it, gazing at it with adoring eyes and
reminding herself not to drool. She held both mallets in her left hand,
pushed the power button, and gently stroked the smooth metal surfaces
with her right, a loving caress for something she'd wanted for some time
but couldn't justify buying until Jimmy conceived Suzie's Victory as
Suzie's birthday present. She owed Jimmy a major thank you, but she
would have to wait until Suzie wasn't present to avoid having to lie
when Suzie asked why she was thanking Jimmy.
One finger brushed a pad. The loud, crisp snap of a snare drum
burst from the speakers and brought her back from someplace else. She
took the second mallet in her right hand and tested each pad. They
were set to reproduce two kettledrums, one snare drum, and one floor
tom. The sound was better than she'd dreamed. She thought for a second
and then smiled at Sis Wynter.
She did a brief roll on the deeper kettle, paused three beats, and
hammered out the rest of the opening of Standing in Motion. Her grin
pushed up her round cheeks, narrowing her eyes as she looked toward
Sis. "You've been wanting to do that one for a while. Now we can do it
right!"
"WOW! That's great!" Wynter said, giving Jimmy a one-armed
squeeze. Then her coral-lipped grin turned knowing and evil. "You
know, Sis, I'll bet it wouldn't sound half as good if you weren't
wearing your tee shirt backward."
~ ~ ~
The trouble with Mrs. Vasquez's cooking, Wynter decided, is that
it's so good you're tempted to overeat. And this time she hadn't
avoided temptation, so she was sleepy when Mister McCauley and LaMarcus
showed up for the band meeting. Guy Malone, who would drum instead of
Cinnamon, had eaten with the gang and was barely able to get to his feet
to greet the final arrivals.
Her Future Father's eyes took in everyone and then landed on her.
"From the symptoms," he said with a grin, "I diagnose that Rosita outdid
herself in the kitchen again."
Wynter nodded concurrence. "She sure did. You should have been
here--you and the walking stomach..."
"Hey!" growled LaMarcus with a grin.
"...to help prevent an outbreak of acute gluttony."
"It's not my fault. Don't tell Marti, but given a chance to eat
her cooking or Rosita's, I'd take Rosita's." He meant that, Wynter
knew, not as an insult to her Future Mother but as a compliment to the
Future Mrs. Brees because Mrs. McCauley was an excellent cook. "You can
blame the governor. The meeting was about one of his pet road
projects." The widening of the state highway from the interstate to
Wizard Basin was one of the governor's top highway priorities.
Doctor Brees waved the arrivals to seats and then collapsed onto
the couch between his Future Wife and his daughter. Hailey, not to be
left out, promptly seated herself in his lap. He squeezed his arms
around his niece and asked, "So are they going to do it?"
Mr. McCauley wandered with LaMarcus to Cinnamon's new toy. "We're
planning like it's a go, but some economists are predicting a revenue
decrease. If that happens they say the TABOR Amendment would make the
decrease permanent and we can't afford it. That's the excuse they trot
out all the time to get the public to revoke the amendment, so who knows?"
"So," said LaMarcus, ignoring the politics and pointing at the
shiny chrome and black and matte silver device. "Does this thing sound
as good as it looks?"
Wynter giggled when Sis One groaned like she was entering her
second century while trying to get off the couch. Both Sis Two and
Doctor Brees gave her butt a push to get her to her feet.
"I'd make you wait to listen if you weren't both bigger than me,"
Sis said.
"HA!"
She lifted her arm and glared down at Huntly, who'd followed his
outburst with a That'll be the day! head shake. "Shithead," she growled
in a very disdainful tone.
Huntly wasn't fooled. "Bitch," he said with a grin. "Say, would
you like to turn your tee shirt around again before you play? I'm sure
it would sound better if you did."
He explained that while Sis glared at the ceiling and stomped to
her kit to retrieve her mallets. Wynter guessed that Huntly deserved to
gloat because he wasn't the butt of the joke for a change.
Cinnamon gave the various drum sounds a workout and then punched
the buttons for gongs and repeated the process.
Mister McCauley nodded appreciatively at the conclusion. His eyes
flicked to Suzie for an instant before he said, "I'm sure that will make
a lot of songs even better."
Suzie hadn't noticed because she was speaking to Kenny. Sis
grinned at his meaning. "I hope so. Some deserve to be as good as
possible."
LaMarcus's white teeth sparkled in his dark face. He waggled a
finger at the set. "Have you tried Journey to the Stars yet?"
Sis punched a couple of buttons, nodded the beat to herself, and
began. Wynter played the distorted bass line opening in her head as
LaMarcus played air bass, then added the sound of Mister McCauley's and
Huntly's air guitars as Sis hammered the electronic drums through the
snare drum roll. "Oh, WOW!" she said. "That's even better! Now you
have to add it to your playlist!"
"Not for the wedding reception," Jimmy said.
She sighed in phony exasperation. "I didn't mean for..."
"Why not?" Guy asked with a smug look. "That way I would get to
play with them."
"Well, Doctor Cutie," Huntly drawled, "the eighth grader and the
senior are in agreement. That makes it unanimous by definition, but I
agree anyway."
Jimmy squeezed Wynter's hand. "At the risk of being redundant, I
agree, too."
Mister McCauley nodded. "Cinnamon, do you want to agree or be the
only vote against?"
"HEY, WAIT A MINUTE!" shouted Finnegan. "The electrician and the
soundman both vote yes."
"That's two votes," Suzie said in her best exasperated voice.
"They're both you, you dolt."
Finnegan shrugged. "You want to try finding two replacements who
can do as good as me?"
Hailey sat up straight. "Hey! Aren't we, like, so Mister Modesty
here!"
Finnegan usually grinned almost as evilly as Sis One, but this time
he equaled her. "When you got it, flaunt it."
Doctor Brees' hands moved in a flash to catch Hailey's as she
reached for the buttons of her blouse. "He wasn't talking about you."
~ ~ ~
He rolled his head on the pillow and squinted until he could read
the clock. Two-thirty. It had been an hour since the dream had
awakened him, and he was still too furious to sleep.
He sat up, reconsidered for a moment, and then crawled out of bed.
He practiced his stealthy movement on the way to the basement. He
blinked when the lights in his training room stung his eyes. He'd
forgotten his glasses in his fury. He hadn't needed them in the dark.
He didn't really need them now, either, but he hadn't even thought about
them. Ron would be almost as disappointed in him as he was in himself
because of his lack of foresight. That made him madder than before.
Madder than what had happened on the cliff. Madder than Finnegan had
been at him for letting Ron forget about the emergency signal. Almost
as mad as he'd been at Suzie's injury saving his life.
He threw himself down on the training mats several times,
practicing his falls. That didn't help. He threw himself harder,
knocking his breath out several times.
Still doesn't help.
He stormed over to the large stuffed leather bag and gave it a
mighty flying kick. That helped a little. Then he brought up his hands
and slammed alternating punches into it until his knuckles were bloody.
~ ~ ~
Jimmy waved at Brinkly and her mom as they drove past. Both
ignored him. He shrugged it off and glanced up the street. His heart
flipped over a few times when he saw Wynter's bike approaching. She
turned into his driveway and gave him a kiss before they wheeled out
toward the school.
"Can you believe it's already September?" Wynter asked.
"Charlie's birthday," Jimmy replied. "Suzie told him that today
he'd be as smart as Uncle Bozo Junior." He glanced at the sky while she
giggled. "How many more days until the first snow?"
"I picked the tenth in Huntly's pool. Why didn't you join it?"
"I figured he'd run the pool the way he plays poker: with a
stacked deck."
"Um..."
"Yeah, I know. The metaphor sucks."
Wynter shrugged. "Yeah. But it is accurate. Did you see Brinkly
and her mom?"
"I waved. They ignored me."
"Yeah. Me, too. I wonder why they came around the long way
instead of coming up Twelfth." She screwed up her face in thought for a
moment. "Jimmy, do you think she's bitter because she's in the wheelchair?"
He thought about that for the twelve-dozenth time. "I dunno.
Maybe. Do you know what's wrong with her yet?"
Her shaking head lashed her ponytail. "Unh uh. All I know is that
it's something that can be corrected surgically, but the success
probability is less than fifty percent. If she waits a few years the
probability should increase to about eighty or ninety percent. At least
that's what she told Fuzzy."
He turned his head to her and frowned. "Doesn't that tell the most
beautiful Future MD in the world what the problem is?"
She grinned at him, adoration filling her blue-green eyes. "I love
you with all my heart," she said. "Yes, it narrows it down to six or
seven possibilities. I haven't asked Doctor Delvy specifics because of
patient confidentiality issues."
"HEY!" The shout came from behind.
They looked back, stopped, and waited for David Corman. "Hi.
Exciting morning, huh?"
"It is?" they asked in unison.
He looked surprised and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "The
street collapse?" When they blinked at him, he said, "The water main
broke and ate a hole under the intersection of Twelfth and Clark."
Which explained why the Wards had taken the long way around. "I guess
you were looking at each other as usual instead of down Twelfth when you
passed it. We've got plenty of room to get in and out of our driveway,
but the engineers say it might not be safe because they don't know how
long ago the main broke and how bad it's eroded under the street."
Jimmy frowned his suspicion at Wynter.
"Unh uh," she said. "No way. Sis wouldn't inconvenience others."
"Yeah, I guess not. Here comes Trish and her dad."
They all waved at Trisha Sue and Mister Fenton. He waved back.
She lifted her nose and turned her head away.
"Now what?" Jimmy asked.
David raised his arm and sniffed his armpit. "It's not me. I
showered after football practice yesterday."
"I don't have a clue," Wynter said with concern in her voice.
"She's never been very friendly, but she's always been polite"
"I think she's been taking bitch lessons."
Wynter gasped. "DAVID!"
They started pedaling toward the school. "I'm serious. Every time
I saw her yesterday, except at football practice, she was with Brinkly
Ward. Speaking of practice, LaMarcus and Tyrone skipped out yesterday."
"We saw LaMarcus last night," Wynter said. "He said they had a
surprise meeting with Finnegan's dad about an amendment to their
contract. The record company's lawyers flew in unannounced. Sis was
really pi... um, really upset because nobody told her so that she could
get her lawyer friends from Boston involved."
"Which is probably why it was unannounced. But they weren't needed
anyway," Jimmy explained. "Mister Burke knew what they were up to and
stopped it cold. Cinnamon's appreciation of him went up at least one
order of magnitude."
"Yeah," David said. "My dad said he'd take Mister Burke over all
the other low-life shysters in town combined."
Wynter slammed on her brakes. "DAVID!"
Jimmy grinned, shook his head, and wisely kept his mouth shut.
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon faked a friendly smile that looked far more sincere than
the one emanating from the wheelchair. "Brinkly," she said with a nod
and an equally fake pleasant tone. She would be civil, but she couldn't
forgive the way the girl had treated Possum.
"Well, if it isn't Cymbals Brees," Brinkly replied with the
faintest hint of a sneer.
Cinnamon's eyes flicked to everyone surrounding Brinkly and then
back to her. Brinkly had re-established her Pack: Trisha Sue Fenton,
Leigh Ann Weyr, and Corrine Sikes. A cheerleader, a majorette, and a
band member again. Trish and Cori are no surprise but I thought Leigh
Ann had more sense. Further proof that brains and sense aren't always
related. Brinkly's going to use all three of them, and they won't even
realize it. She'll manipulate Trish and the other two will follow Trish
out of habit, even though they're both smarter than her. They're just
another bunch of silly star fuckers sniffing at the tail of celebrity.
God, I feel sorry for them.
"What do you want, Cymbals?" sneered Cori.
She pointed. "I want to get to my locker. You're standing in
front of it."
"What if we're in no hurry to move?" Cori had a mean streak and a
perpetual chip on her shoulder. Despite that, she normally was first or
second runner-up to the queen in various pageants. The queen was almost
invariably Trish, who steadfastly believed that Cinnamon now intended to
take first place for herself because she was incapable of conceiving
that anyone would rather be known for her talent and abilities than for
her looks. The fact Cinnamon had never signed up for any pageant was
lost on both girls.
Fortunately Hailey had lagged behind to put moves on Steve
Hampton. That meant Cinnamon could have complete control over the
situation. She grinned to herself. "Then you can move at your
convenience," she replied. "Meanwhile I'll just tell everyone who
passes that you've stuffed your bra. Again. Fair enough?"
The shocked look on Cori's face was priceless. "Who says..." Her
voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "Who says I stuffed my bra?"
Cinnamon gave her an evil grin and patted her own chest. "I know
what real tits look like. So do Leigh Ann and Trish. Right, girls?"
The slight was not lost on the almost-flat Brinkly. "Come on,
guys," she said. "Let's go before her pet buffoon shows up."
"Buffoon?" Cinnamon's smile brightened. "Oooh! Have we been using
our thesaurus and dictionary outside of class again? You're going to
set a bad example for the rest of the eighth grade if you have! Or have
we just confused ourself while trying to say 'baboon' and accidentally
stumbled into the right word? Hmmm?"
Brinkly spluttered, then spun the wheelchair around and shoved the
control forward. Trish and Leigh Ann followed immediately. Cori
lingered for just a moment, and then slowly moved out of Cinnamon's way.
Cinnamon shook her head and then chuckled. This might be fun. She
was closing her locker when she heard, "Sis!"
She straightened, then hugged both Wynter and Jimmy in greeting.
"Hey, David. How are you?"
"Feeling kinda left out, actually."
"Oooh! We've been practicing subtlety!" She hugged him, too, and
threw in a quick kiss that surprised him.
"You know, Missy," Jimmy drawled in his bad John Wayne imitation,
"the school has a rule against public displays of affection."
Cinnamon grinned. "But it doesn't have rules against medically
treating someone with paranoid feelings of rejection, does it, Sis?"
Wynter pursed her lips and pushed them to one side in thought.
"I'm not sure 'paranoid' is a hundred percent accurate in David's case,"
she said, pressing her fingertips to his forehead. "In fact, he might
be faking it in a desperate bid for attention from a pretty girl."
"Well, better safe than sorry. We... Uh oh." She'd spotted the
look of concern on Suzie's face as Kenny, with Huntly alongside, pushed
her toward them. Then she saw the bandages on Kenny's hands. "Hi,
guys," she said as the trio arrived.
As everyone exchanged greetings, Katie Wilson appeared and dragged
David away. He did not appear the least unwilling. When did they start
going together? Cinnamon wondered as she saw the looks in their eyes.
Suzie's look of concern worsened. "Wynter, would you look at
Kenny's hands while Cinnamon pushes me to my locker?"
Her eyes flicked to Huntly, who gave her a minuscule flick of his
head. Jimmy started to volunteer to push her, then realized Suzie's
request had an ulterior motive. He said nothing as Wynter's hand moved
from his back and she reached for Kenny's bandaged hands.
"It's okay," Kenny snapped. "My dad did these."
"And I'm sure he probably did a good job," Wynter said. "But
perhaps I should give his work a second opinion, just in case. He might
have been traumatized by the realization that he's getting older and has
no sons younger than six now, and thus he might have made a mistake.
So, give me your hands voluntarily, or I'll have Huntly and Jimmy hold
you down."
Suzie giggled despite her concern, and then Cinnamon swept her away.
"Okay, it's just us redheads," Cinnamon said quietly. "What did he
do?"
Suzie explained in an anxious voice that was as tense as the high
E-string on Huntly's guitar. "Something's wrong, Cinnamon. But he
won't tell me. The dolt keeps saying everything's okay or something.
He's changing. He's not Kenny now."
"I know. But this is the first time it's manifested itself as
self-abuse."
Suzie suddenly giggled again. "Well, this kind of self-abuse or
something."
She'd walked into that one, but it had helped Suzie relax a
little. "Yeah."
"Do you think the dolt feels guilty because I got hurt?" Suzie
asked as she dialed her combination. Her anxiety was returning.
Cinnamon glanced down the hall at him. "I know he does, the same
as Ron. But, Suzie, I don't think that's the real problem."
"It's not?" She removed the lock.
"Here. Let me get your books for you. No. I think it's
DeRamirez. But I'm not sure."
Suzie's face mixed puzzled with concerned and got frightened as the
result. "Why?"
Cinnamon looked around from the open locker. "We'll know that when
we know what really happened up on that cliff."
Chapter 6
Mitch thought Wynter's most endearing expression was how her heart
sometimes felt too big for her chest. It precisely described his
feelings whenever he saw how people reacted to his daughter's prodigious
talent. Another of her expressions that he loved was "going someplace
else." But it wasn't the crowd's reaction when Cinnamon dashed out of
the band's formation to the drum kit on the fifty yard line that had
taken him "someplace else."
He turned toward the elbow in the ribs that had brought him back
from there while the band marched to positions on either side of her.
"I'm sorry. You said something?"
Rosita looped an arm under his and squeezed it to her side. "I
said you should stop thinking about your first wife and pay more
attention to your next one."
He drew back in surprise. "How did you know what I was thinking?"
She gave him a patient smile while his daughter worked the home
crowd into a frenzy with her Let's Go! routine. "Honey, I don't need to
be Cinnamon to know where your mind is when you have that look on your
face. You were thinking about Gwendolyn and how much she missed by not
taking any interest in her own daughter's accomplishments."
He felt like a fool. "Rosie, I'm sorry..."
"Don't be. I can't blame you. Honey, it's because you care about
your daughter and because you're a decent human being, which is why I
fell in love with you. Shoot, I feel a little bit sorry for her myself,
but mostly I feel sorry for Cinnamon, which is why I promise I'll do all
I can to make up for her not having a real mother for twelve years."
"Rosie..."
"Now: shut up and watch our daughter. Or at least let me."
"Yes, dear," he said. He pressed against her and felt warm all
over. He wondered if Wynter's heart ever felt as big as his suddenly did.
~ ~ ~
Wynter thought her heart was going to explode from her chest. Half
the spectators were screaming, "GRIFFIN!" but the other half were
screaming even louder, "CINNAMON!" when Sis yelled, "WHO'S THE BEST?"
After more than twelve years in a yucky, hateful family where nobody
other than her father loved her except for an uncle, aunt, and cousin
who lived a quarter of the world away, Sis now had two families in the
same town who loved her, and she had the adoration of that town, too.
Jimmy leaned over to speak in her ear. He had to get close to be
heard above the screaming and yelling. "Do you hear that?"
She snapped her head around and gave him a quick kiss as Cinnamon
launched into what Wynter now knew as the ten-second Routine Number
Seven. "Can you believe it?"
"Well, yeah," he said with a mischievous grin. "Why? Can't you?"
Her hand was under his jacket, so it was easy to pinch his back.
"Smarty pants!"
~ ~ ~
Huntly sat spellbound, one arm around Hailey to protect her from
the Rocky Mountain chill, and stared in fascination as Cinnamon launched
into her solo.
"GawDAAAMN!" somebody in front of him drawled in the sudden silence
that filled the stands. Huntly thought that was the most eloquent
summation he'd ever heard. The little drummer had been holding back in
rehearsals, and now she'd let out all the stops. No. Cinnamon never
holds back when it comes to drumming. She's been inspired to greater
heights by this crowd.
His dad's head appeared over his shoulder from the row behind.
"Son, I'm not sure exactly what it is she sees in you, but for God's
sake, don't you dare change whatever it is."
"NO way," he promised. Then his voice dropped to a whisper: "I
love you, bitch."
~ ~ ~
"You dolt! Why are you looking at cheerleaders or something when
you should be watching Cinnamon?" Suzie just knew she'd never
understand boys, but she'd sure as heck understand all the others before
she ever understood Kenny.
"Because something's wrong. Look at Trisha."
The sound of his words got her attention as much as the words did.
She looked. "Huh. She looks like Brinkly did at the concert. Maybe
even worse. Sorta like Amber when I beat her in the swim meet. Like
she's about to breathe fire or something."
"And it gets worse when she looks at Cinnamon. What do you think
it means?"
Suzie frowned in deep thought. "I don't know, but I bet it's not
good."
"Yeah." Kenny gave her hand a squeeze with his still-bandaged
one. "That's what I'm afraid of."
She went back to watching Cinnamon, but her mind continued to mule
over Trish's strange attitude.
Or whatever that stupid word was.
~ ~ ~
"Sure," Jimmy said, accepting Wynter's kiss. He leaned around her
and said to her father, "I've been requested to make a refreshment run
for your dehydrated daughter."
"Smarty pants!"
"Or maybe it's just for me," he amended. "Which means I'll be able
to carry more back. Do you two want anything?"
He took their orders and asked around. Huntly and Kenny
volunteered to help him bring the load back.
As they made their way down from the bleachers, Tyrone Hayes
successfully faked taking a handoff on fourth and inches, drawing away
the Bears' blitzing safety. Donnie Smith sailed a pass eighteen yards
into the arms of Todd McKeown in the end zone for a touchdown.
Jimmy cheered with the rest of the home crowd. "I can't believe
we're ahead of the Bears."
"Believe it," Kenny said through his Patented Shit-Eating Grin.
"And thank Huntly's date."
Jimmy frowned at Huntly. "Do I want to know?"
Huntly shrugged and quietly said, "Hailey promised Donnie that if
we won, she'd blow him."
"Which is all she can do," chortled Kenny, "since she's got a
nosebleed in Australia."
Jimmy shook his head in confusion. "What?"
Kenny gave him the How dense can you be? look he reserved for
whenever Jimmy missed one of his crude jokes. He switched to his weird
voice. "Hello? Earth of Jimmy! DUH!" He switched back. "She's
closed for maintenance? The Red River dam has burst? She's rebooting
the ovarian operating system? Miss Scarlett has come home to Tara?
She's wearing Dracula's tea bag?"
Jimmy shook his head in disbelief. "You putz! Damn, you're
disgusting. In fact, you're the most disgusting person I know. Isn't
he, Huntly?"
Huntly frowned reproachfully at Kenny and shook his head. And
grinned. "She's chasing the cotton mouse."
"Flying the red flag!"
"Surfing the crimson tide."
Kenny nodded. "It's T minus nine months and holding."
Huntly raised one eyebrow, Spock-fashion. "Fascinating, Captain.
Panty shields are up."
"We have a mudslide in crotch canyon."
"Um... She's up on blocks."
Jimmy balled his fists at his sides and snarled, "Two putzes. No
waiting."
Kenny ignored him. "The Cardinals are playing at home." He
pointed at Huntly.
"Um... Her cup of joy is overflowing."
"Yeah. The tomato boat has docked in Tuna Town."
"Oh, hey, that's a good one, Boy Blunder. Uh... There's a massacre
at the Beef Corral."
Jimmy glared up at the gathering clouds, then closed his eyes and
muttered, "Why didn't I just go get something for her and keep my big
mouth shut to everyone else?"
"Not bad. How about, it's all anal sex week?"
"Nah," grunted Huntly. "She's blowing Donnie if we win, remember?"
"Oh. Yeah. Well... She's playing the banjo in Sergeant Zygote's
Ragtime Band."
Jimmy whirled on Kenny. "What would your future patients think if
they heard you say that?"
Kenny shrugged. "Beats me. They'd think I already was a qualified
gynecologist?"
"The playground's muddy," suggested Huntly, ignoring the interruption.
"Her bush bean's surfing the red tide."
"She's having the painters in."
"The monkey has a nosebleed."
"Okay. Uh... It's time to change the filter."
Next time I'll just tell Wynter that too much apple cider will make
her fat.
~ ~ ~
"At least Ghost is glad to see me," Mitch said to Rosie's back as
Ghost rubbed his head against his master's leg. Mitch rewarded him with
a hearty ear-scratch.
She turned to him, her hands and forearms coated in flour and bits
of bread dough. She held her hands and arms out toward him. "I didn't
want to track this through the hallway. Though your maid is such a lazy
slacker that you might have to fire her anyway. And the girls are at
Jimmy's."
He motioned for her to spread her arms wide, then leaned in to kiss
her. "Yeah, well, I know what you mean. I can't imagine any man dumb
enough to keep that woman around his house."
She grunted. "I'll be through in a few minutes. I'm running
behind with the bread because I gave Candis and Mrs. Holland a hand
making treats for Charlie's party. Mail's on the counter there. I
haven't had time to sort through it yet because it arrived about a ten
minutes ago. Will Tucker's off today, and whoever subbed for him was
running late."
"Rodger Tennant," Mitch said as he picked up the stack and riffled
through it. "I saw him headed back to the Post Office. The usual junk
mail and bills. Some RSVPs... Hey! Here's one from Aunt Vickie. I
haven't heard from her since Christmas. I hope she can come to the
wedding."
He tore open the envelope while Rosita said, "Your
ex-mother-in-law's outcast sister?"
"That's her."
"Oh, I hope so. If she's as much like Hailey's dad as you claim
she is, that's one lady I'd like to meet."
"I'm looking forward to it, too. All I know about her is from
Christmas letters and what Gerry has told me. Gwendolyn wouldn't even
discuss visiting her, even when I said it was for Cinnamon's benefit.
Aunt Vickie only knows her great-niece through my letters and Christmas
photos."
Rosita shrugged as she began shaping the dough into loaves.
"Further proof that Gwendolyn's judgment wasn't all that great. I mean,
just look at that maid she hired."
He nodded vigorously. "Exactly what I was going to say. Oh, no."
She paused and looked over her shoulder. "Bad news?"
He nodded and kept reading. "She can't come. The doctor won't let
her travel. She fell off a chair and cracked her hip."
"Oh, the poor thing. Does she have vertigo and osteoporosis?"
Mitch grinned at her. "You don't understand Aunt Vickie. She was
getting something from a top cabinet in the kitchen and was in too big a
hurry to get the step-ladder, so she used a chair that was handy. She
slipped and fell stepping down to the floor."
She gaped at him with raised eyebrows. "She's how old?"
He did some rapid mental arithmetic. "I think she's in her
mid-seventies, but she thinks she's still eighteen. Or maybe thirteen."
Rosie's face broke into that grin he loved so much. "Oh, I gotta
meet that woman. Definitely."
"We just don't take Hailey with us," he said as he returned the
note to the envelope.
"Why not?"
"Gerry says we don't want her teaching Hailey any new tricks.
Trust me."
~ ~ ~
"Peter Buffet? Is he good?" Wynter handed the CD case to Jimmy
and switched off the Clavinova to save electricity. During the band's
break from rehearsing for the wedding reception performance, Cinnamon
had asked if everyone would like to hear a piece she'd found.
"Yeah, I think so," Sis said as she put the CD into Jimmy's boom
box. "You can decide for yourselves. The New West is very good, sort
of Hollywoodish American Indian in style, but it's the title song, The
Waiting, that really got my attention. It's something quite different
but..."
Everyone looked toward the door of the rehearsal room. A very
familiar voice and another they recognized were coming toward them.
Since Kenny had to help his mom with Charlie's birthday party, Suzie was
spending Saturday afternoon at Miss Jackson's, working on her dyslexia
problem after her visit with Doctor Delvy that morning. Wynter
diagnosed that they must be finished and that Miss Jackson brought Suzie
to visit.
Miss Jackson entered first. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present
the walking wounded?"
Suzie came in on crutches. "Doctor Delvy took away my wheelchair
this morning," she said, trying unsuccessfully to sound disappointed.
"He claimed I was getting fat and lazy or something and said if he left
me in it, Amber would win State next year."
LaMarcus put his bass in its stand and helped Suzie to a chair that
Huntly had moved to the front center, next to Hailey's and Finnegan's.
Sis One filled two cups with punch for the new arrivals while Hailey
repositioned another chair for Miss Jackson.
Greetings took a few moments, during which Wynter excused herself
for a potty break. When she returned, Miss Jackson was asking if they
were interrupting.
"Hey! You, like, brought us Suzie," Hailey said with a dismissive
wave of her hand. "That is so not an interruption!"
"And while I'm only temporarily a part of the band," Guy added, "I
think I can speak for everyone else when I say you aren't an
interruption, either, Coach."
Miss Jackson smiled at him while Wynter patted Suzie on the
shoulder enroute to her place beside Jimmy on his bench. "High school
seems to have had a positive effect on our manners and attitude."
Guy suddenly looked like an old sheep. "Well, it wasn't high
school. It was one of the other drummers in this room."
"Oh, jeez," Huntly moaned. "Bitch is the only other drummer in the
room."
Guy shrugged. "You never know. Maybe somebody else has hidden
drummer talent."
Sis gave Huntly a disdainful look. "Yeah, shithead. What makes
you think you know all the answers?"
Huntly gave Sis One a smarty pants look. "I guess you just rubbed
off on me last night."
For just an instant Wynter saw a look on Cinnamon's face that said
Huntly's words were true in their other meaning. She glanced at Sis Two
and got a second opinion of confirmation.
Suzie stopped that turn of the conversation by sitting up straight
in her chair. "I almost forgot! Speaking of hidden talent or
something, did you know Kenny could sing?"
"Yeah," said Huntly. "We've heard him. He sounds like a cat being
de-balled without the anesthetic, but without the more pleasant harmonics."
"HUNTLY!" Jimmy's eyes flew in panic to his dad. Wynter wondered
what it would take to solve that problem with her Future Husband. She
guessed that would be her next project for him, now that the prudectomy
was over.
"The keyboardist is right, Huntly," Mister McCauley said, again
gently making the subtle point that on this side of the door he was a
band member and not a father. "You know Kenny doesn't sound that good."
"NO!" Finnegan roared. "HE SOUNDS MORE LIKE HUNTLY BEING DE-BALLED
WITHOUT AN ANESTHETIC!"
Everyone else laughed while Huntly glared at Finnegan. Then Suzie
explained. "No, he sounds a lot better now! Honest! Maybe it's
because his voice changed. He sounds a lot like that Cretin's
Clearwater guy or something. The one that sings Bad Moon Rising. In
fact, that's what he was singing when I heard him last night."
"John C. Fogerty," said Mister McCauley. He threw a look at Sis,
who was nodding thoughtfully to herself.
"Interesting." That was all she said, but Wynter knew that ideas
were churning under that pinned-up mass of red hair. Then she fixed
Huntly with a stare. "Shithead. Take voice lessons."
Huntly looked left and right, then back at Sis. His eyebrows
pushed wrinkles into his tanned forehead. "Me?" he asked as he pointed
at himself. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to, bitch? You've
heard me, and my voice has already changed."
"I'll go to Mass and pray for a miracle. Do it!"
Huntly threw up his arms in surrender.
Suzie pointed. "What's that? It's new."
LaMarcus frowned. "Don't you remember Cinnamon's electronic drums?"
"No, you dolt! That. By that computer. It's new, too."
"Finnegan's been busy," Jimmy said. "He got a synthesizer from
somewhere..."
"Adam Gorshin gave me his old one for parts when it died and he
bought a new one," Finnegan explained. "Took me five minutes to find
the problem and two minutes and fifteen cents to fix it."
"Then Finnegan started improving it. There's a whole orchestra in
there now, and he's wired things so that we can play it from any of our
electronic instruments, even Cinnamon's new drums. The computer runs a
MIDI controller that automates some of the switching."
When Suzie looked like she was trying to decide whether Jimmy was
pulling her leg, Sis grabbed a mallet, punched numbers into the keypad,
and tapped an electronic drum head. The speakers boomed with the sound
of a tuba. She punched more numbers and hammered out the trill of a flute.
Suzie was impressed. "You better keep Finnegan happy so that he
doesn't change sides to Brinkly."
"Hey!" cooed Hailey with a leer at Finnegan. "So not the prob!"
"Sis was about to play a song for us," Wynter said to the new
arrivals. "Would you like to hear it, too?"
Both concurred. "It's called The Waiting," Cinnamon said. "It's
quite different, but something about it really appeals to me. I think
maybe it was a tone poem in the artist's head when he wrote it." She
pushed the play button.
The piece opened with sounds like birds chirping, the sounds dying
in a way that made Wynter feel sad, like the day of Mrs. Vasquez
Senior's funeral. There were several chime-like notes mixed in, and
then the piano began, walking through a simple, sad melody with more
chime notes and bird calls. She saw LaMarcus's eyebrows go up when the
bass and guitar cut in accent notes and the song slowly became more complex.
Then the whole arrangement turned harsh. Both the piano notes and
the chimes--especially the chimes that sounded half like doorbell
buzzers--grated against her tympanic membranes. It was too shrill and
biting for her. She knew Jimmy would like it, but it wasn't her style.
If Sis wanted the new age group to play it, she would for Jimmy's and
Sis's sake because she loved them, but she'd want to play only the piano
part on the Clavinova, and she really liked only the opening part of that.
Then the acoustic guitar began, backed with strings and chimes and
piano, as the harshness cut off. Wynter's mouth fell open, and she had
to force it to close. As harsh as the second passage had been, the
third one was beautiful, lyrical, and yet still melancholy, even better
than the first passage. Then it repeated, only with more instruments
making the A theme slightly fuller this time..
Wynter fidgeted through the stark B theme until the C theme began
again. It was subtly different from the first version and even more
beautiful. Maybe the strings sounded more full. She wiped at a corner
of her eye as Jimmy's hand closed about her knee and gently squeezed.
As the music slowly faded away she saw Suzie wipe her eyes, too.
"Now," said Sis as she punched the off button. "Is that a study in
contrasts, or is that a study in contrasts?"
"How can it be so abrasive and yet so beautiful in the same piece?"
Jimmy asked. Wynter knew that tone. Jimmy was in analysis mode,
dissecting the music to learn from it.
"It's the contrasting harshness that makes the beautiful work so
well," Mister McCauley said. "Kinda makes you wonder what he had in
mind when he wrote it. The Waiting? Waiting for what?"
Suzie sniffed. "I don't know what he was thinking," she said, her
voice not all that steady, "but I know what it makes me think of."
She sniffed again.
"Like, what?" Hailey asked in a gentle, concerned voice.
Suzie twisted her fingers together in her lap and stared at them.
"Kenny," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "When we were
fighting. And later remembering how it had been before we had our
stupid fights. Waiting to see if it would ever be better or not. And
not knowing."
Miss Jackson slipped an arm around Suzie's shoulders and squeezed
her gently, the way a big sister should comfort a younger sibling.
"Suzie, if that's not what he was thinking, then it should have been."
Everyone else agreed as Suzie wiped her eyes again and Miss Jackson
whispered something in her ear.
And somewhere in Wynter's mind a tiny seed planted itself.
"Do you think we should play that for the talent show?" Huntly asked.
"If the guest can voice an opinion," Guy began.
"In this room, everyone is equal when it comes to opinions," said
Mister McCauley. "Even Huntly."
Huntly threw up his arms. "Aw, man!"
"Then," Guy continued, "I would vote against it. It won't fly in
this town."
"I think Guy's right," said Miss Jackson with an apologetic look at
Cinnamon. "Though that's probably not what you want to hear."
"Then you really don't know me if that's what you think," Cinnamon
said, though with a friendly smile. "I want to hear what's real, not
what makes me feel good right now. That would make me feel that much
worse when the act falls flat. Would you tell one of your swimmers she
was doing just perfect when she's not giving it her all, so that she
comes in last during competition?"
"No. You're right. I'm sorry. I should have known better."
"You should," Sis agreed, still smiling, "but it's nice to see
somebody else besides me make mistakes once in a while. It's nice to
know that you're human, too."
Wynter wasn't entirely sure how Miss Jackson would take that, but
Sis's diagnosis of Miss Jackson had been right, as usual. She had taken
it with the same smile Wynter would use.
"It's good that we aren't going to play it," Mister McCauley said,
"because I'm not sure I could learn whatever my part was by November.
Of course, it would be Wynter's group and not Junior and the Twins, so I
might not be in the performance anyway."
"Oh!" Suzie said, suddenly looking startled. "Jennifer has
something to tell you. That's really why we're here."
Everyone looked at Miss Jackson, who shrugged. "We have a problem
with that. You see, if I'm a teacher, I can't tell you. Not yet.
Mister Peters will have to make the announcement, and he won't do that
until next week. Not until school resumes on Tuesday at the earliest,
and maybe not until the assembly on Friday."
"Miss Jackson," Wynter said, "we understand confidences and
wouldn't want you to break one."
Miss Jackson glanced at Suzie, who smiled back like she'd just
broken another swimming record. "Yes, I know you wouldn't," Miss
Jackson said with a nod to Suzie. "And as a teacher, I won't."
"But she can tell me because she's my adopted sister now, like you
with Cinnamon and Hailey, so she's telling me as family and not a
student. Except that means I can't tell you, either. So I thought
maybe she could tell you if she was part of the band or something. You
know. A guest performer like Wynter?"
Wynter's eyes flicked to Sis, who had tilted her head to one side
and stopped blinking.
Guy nodded. "I've heard Coach sing. She's good."
Huntly threw Guy a disdainful look. "Don't take this the wrong
way, drumhead, but you're just a guest, and this time, for a change,
that's not good enough. I think we should have her audition, not just
for bitch but for all of us because her performance will reflect on all
of us. That includes me, and I don't want to look bad because of her."
Suzie's red face showed that she was about to object loudly to
Huntly's attitude, but an instant later she realized what he was doing.
He was showing Miss Jackson what she'd have to put up with if she really
and truly was a part of the band. "Huntly's right," Suzie said. "She
can play the piano, too, so Wynter can you set that Claviola thingy to
piano? That way she can play for herself."
"Ooor..." said LaMarcus in a smarty pants drawl and a naughty grin.
Miss Jackson shook a warning finger at him. "Don't say it! Don't
you get me in trouble before I start," she said as she rose from her
chair. "And don't forget, I know stories about you, too."
LaMarcus looked chagrined at for a moment, then slowly smiled in a
way that reminded Wynter of Bugs Bunny.
"The Clavinova's already set for piano," Wynter said, flipping the
on switch as Miss Jackson sat on its bench. She shot a quick glance at
Sis, who hadn't moved and was still analyzing Miss Jackson.
LaMarcus slipped the strap of his bass over his head. "Miss
Jackson is a big-time Cyndi Lauper fan," he said.
Obviously that meant something to Huntly, Mister McCauley, and
Guy. Wynter guessed it somehow told them how LaMarcus was about to get
Miss Jackson in trouble.
Guy drew sticks from the holder. "I see! Well, I believe I can
HOLD MY OWN with that one."
Everyone else looked confused when LaMarcus, Mister McCauley, Miss
Jackson, and Huntly laughed.
"I sang with a group in the sorority at CU," Miss Jackson
explained, "but it was strictly an in-house thing. We never did perform
publicly, so this is sort of new for me."
"Or sing publicly?" Jimmy's dad asked in a smarty pants voice.
"That either. God, I walked into that one." She shook her head as
the insiders laughed again.
Finnegan had tired of not knowing the joke. "WHAT THE HELL'S SO
DAMNED FUNNY?"
"We'll show you," said LaMarcus. He looked around at Huntly. "You
gonna join us?"
Huntly shook his head. "I don't know that one good enough."
"Old timer?"
"Sure." Mister McCauley picked up his guitar. "What key?" he
asked Miss Jackson.
Jimmy whispered in Wynter's ear, "I'm not sure we're going to like
this."
Wynter frowned at him. "Why not?"
"That's how Dad looks and sounds when he's having beer and dirty
jokes with his friends."
Wynter looked at him a moment, then shrugged. "Then I guess we'll
know if Miss Jackson is serious about becoming part of the Twins, won't we?"
She guessed from his expression that it wasn't the response Jimmy
really and truly wanted to hear, but Guy counted the beat. Miss Jackson
and LaMarcus both played thirteen bass notes--six pairs of quarter notes
and one whole note--with Guy accenting on the back beats, repeated them,
and then Miss Jackson began singing something about boys in tight blue
jeans. Wynter focused on the young woman's technique rather than the
lyrics, since it was an audition.
Wynter thought Miss Jackson had a good voice. The song didn't test
her range very much, but she was good in that range, though her tremolo
wasn't much better than okay. None of her notes were off that Wynter
could tell, though Sis One was the one with the truly perfect pitch.
Wynter's wasn't perfect, just very close. Miss Jackson had good piano
technique, with an attack that...
Why is Hailey laughing? Sis Two had suddenly doubled over and
pounded her leg while exploding in laughter. Is she having some kind
of... Now Finnegan's laughing, too! Whatever...
Suzie suddenly shrieked. Her hands covered her mouth. "Now you
know!" she said to Finnegan.
Wynter guessed she should pay more attention to the words of the
song. She looked at Jimmy, who returned her puzzled look.
And then his face flashed so scarlet that it hid most of his
freckles. "MISS JACKSON!"
The singing and music stopped at once, like someone had shut off a
speaker switch. Miss Jackson smiled. "Yes?"
Wynter frowned, and then glanced at Sis One. The little redhead
hadn't moved except to shift her unblinking eyes to Jimmy. Who was
attempting a half-dozen sentences and not getting beyond the first word
of each while looking over his shoulder at his dad. Then he looked
around Wynter at Miss Jackson. "You can't sing about that! Not in
front of students!"
"Jimbo?" Huntly's quiet voice seemed even more commanding because
of its lack of force. "The purpose of all this is to determine whether
we're students or fellow band members, remember?"
"But... But... But..." he spluttered. "Well, not in front of my dad!"
Okay, now Wynter understood Jimmy's problem, though not what the
song had been about.
"James Evan?" Mister McCauley was just as quiet at Huntly.
Jimmy turned to face him. His right hand tightened painfully
around Wynter's left. "Yes, sir?"
"Remember our man-to-man talk the night after the Fourth of July
performance at the gazebo? You've been steadily backsliding since then
and lately it's gotten worse. Outside this room, I'm your father. In
here and on the stage--and, yes, in the changing tents--I'm just the
rhythm guitar player. And I wouldn't be playing accompaniment if I
didn't already know the song."
Jimmy's hand relaxed slightly. "Yes, sir."
"And remember how I said we had sex back in my day, too, way back
before history was invented? Well, back then we also had masturbation.
Like the song says, everybody does it."
Wynter thought her eyes must have gone as wide as Cinnamon's were
narrow. She should have paid more attention to the lyrics! But Jimmy's
grip eased more as he gained control of his father anxiety disorder.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."
Huntly glanced at Sis One and then took control of the meeting.
"Apology accepted, Jimbo. Lead guitar votes we accept Miss Jackson as
an official guest performer with Junior and the Twins." He played the
opening riff from Bad Moon Rising. "Bass?"
LaMarcus flashed his sparkling teeth and played the thirteen-note
opening of... What the heck WAS the name of Miss Jackson's song?
"Rhythm?"
Mister McCauley played the opening gliss of Pipeline.
"Keyboards?"
When Jimmy didn't move, Wynter poked him in the ribs. He turned to
her. "Huh?"
"They're waiting for your vote," she explained.
Jimmy pulled himself together and played the first four measures of
Wynter's Song.
Huntly turned to Cinnamon and spread his hands. "It's unanimous to
you."
Sis still didn't blink. "Coach Jennifer Jackson, you are now
officially a guest member of Junior and the Twins. Now tell me what
Brinkly did with Principal Peters to screw us."
Chapter 7
Cinnamon had kept her eyes on the newest guest artist with the
band, but she noted peripherally that nobody, including Cuz, seemed
surprised by her question. They'd all assumed that Miss Jackson's news
had something to do with Brinkly.
"First, of all, there can't be any teacher-student relationship at
this point," Miss Jackson said. "If I'm a part of the band, even as a
guest performer, then as long as we aren't on the school grounds or at a
school function, I'm your friend Suzie's adopted sister and you'll call
me Jennifer the same way she does and the same way you called Caroline
by her first name. Is that perfectly clear?"
Cinnamon straightened her head and blinked. She has to know
better. So why did she say that? Because she thinks it's important, so
important that she's willing to break through the wall of separation and
leak the information. Why? It goes against everything Suzie has said
about her?
Fairness. She absolutely believes in fairness. Suzie's proof of
that. So. Brinkly tried to slam my other tit in the screen door, and
she's keeping us from being blind-sided because that's fair. And she's
making up this excuse for... No, not for her conscience. For our
benefit. So Sis and Jimmy and Suzie and I won't feel guilty, because
she knows we, as a minimum, will know what she's actually doing. It's
just the way I would do it.
She scanned everyone in an eye blink. "If that's what it takes for
you to avoid a personal moral conflict, it's not only clear, it's the
way things are right now. Disagreement, anyone?"
She glanced around the room, slowly this time, taking in answers.
She was only seventy-five percent sure Jimmy would accept without
arguing, even though Sis had agreed. Jimmy, the second moral conscience
of the group, apparently understood the significance, too. "Go ahead,
Jennifer."
Jennifer spoke as she returned to the chair beside Suzie. "Brinkly
decided to mess with the composition of your band. She went to Scott
Peters and said that since it was a middle school talent show, none of
the performers should be adults." Jennifer smiled. "She's not very
bright, is she?"
Cinnamon's eyes narrowed as her broad grin pushed up her round
cheeks. "She's not dumb. She just doesn't think far enough ahead. She
sees the objective she wants being obtained, and then she quits
thinking. She doesn't examine the collateral effects on her own
situation. It never occurred to her to think what Principal Peters'
reaction could be."
She wasn't surprised when Cuz asked, "Like, what?" Her eyes
flicked about the room. Jimmy's dad was grinning and shaking his head
at Brinkly's folly. LaMarcus was pumping his fist in delight. Oddly
enough, Sis seemed to understand but not Jimmy.
Jennifer turned to answer Cuz. "It's not official yet, because
he's still thinking about it, but apparently he's going to announce that
only people in Griffin Middle School can perform."
Huntly slapped his leg in delight. "Well, all we lost was the best
rhythm guitarist in town, but Brinkly? HA! There goes half of the
Brink of Disaster!" he crowed. "The drums, second rhythm guitar, and
keyboards are Dunne High Schoolers. Plus Lisa and Shannon are also
two-thirds of the backup vocals. And Brinkly did it to herself without
any help from us!"
Cinnamon nodded. "The reason Principal Peters may not make an
announcement before the assembly," she said, "is, of course, because he
is examining the collateral effects of his decision and wants to be sure
he's thought of everything."
Finnegan suddenly jumped to his feet. "HOLY SHIT! WHAT A LOOPHOLE!"
Cinnamon wasn't surprised that the lawyer's son was the first to
spot the loophole besides her. But once Finnegan announced its
existence, Sis's eyes said she saw it too, though Jennifer didn't.
Huntly looked as confused as Cuz. "What loophole?"
Before she could ask Wynter to explain, Suzie brightened. "Yeah!
Oh, yeah! Oh, that's great! Think about it, you dolt. Jennifer is a
teacher, but she's in Griffin Middle School. Unless Principal Peters
says only Griffin Middle School students, you can use her in the band,
and that stupid Brinkly can't complain about it!"
In the discussion that followed, nobody else, including Jimmy,
noticed that Wynter had gone unfocused and slack-faced. She was
somewhere else and, without doubt, examining an idea from every possible
angle. Sis sometimes seemed to overanalyze everything, but Cinnamon
knew that when Sis returned from wherever, her idea would either be
discarded as infeasible or it would be well thought out in excruciating
detail.
Cinnamon sat quietly and let the others talk, listening to their
ideas and counter-arguments, and waited for Sis's input. Jimmy soon
realized that Wynter wasn't contributing, looked at her, smiled, and
then left her alone. He wasn't so shaken by Jennifer's singing She Bop
that he'd lost all of his common sense.
Wynter suddenly blinked and focused on her. "Sis, can I borrow
your clipboard and pencil?"
"Any time."
Wynter kissed Jimmy before rising to take them, then leaned over
Suzie to whisper in her ear. Suzie nodded. Wynter helped her to her
feet, and they retreated into the hallway, obviously to the couch where
they could confer in private.
Cinnamon found herself almost breathless with anticipation as her
eyes followed them out the door. This should be good!
When she looked around again, Jennifer was saying, "She argued,
'It's not fair for Cymbals to have professional musicians in her
group.' At least, that's what Ma... uh... my source said."
"Excuse me," Huntly said, leaning forward and raising a hand, "but,
'Cymbals'?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" Cinnamon said, surprised. "Brinkly sprang
that nickname on me Wednesday."
"WHAT?" Huntly threw up his hands and looked disgusted. "Where
does she get off calling you put-down names, bitch?"
LaMarcus suddenly sprouted a grin so evil that it rippled a chill
down her spine. "Oh, she got that from me," he said. "Remember, I've
been calling Cinnamon 'Cymbals' since the shell was dedicated. RE-MEM-BER?"
Cinnamon guessed she wasn't the only one not surprised by the
sudden, "What? Hey! Like, that is so the bogus! Like, no way..."
"WHITNEY GWYNETH!" She shouldn't have sounded so harsh. She
nodded her head slowly, her eyes wide and fixed on her cousin's.
"Remember?"
Understanding finally arrived by parcel post. "Oh! Well, like,
why didn't you say so, pickledick. Like, sure! It was, like, just
before we went on stage, wasn't it?"
Jimmy's dad gave Cinnamon a thumbs up. She grinned back. If that
bitch wants to steal my 'Brink of Disaster' put-down and call it her own
idea, I can gladly return the favor.
~ ~ ~
It wasn't that Jimmy didn't trust Wynter's instincts, but he
thought that too much depended on the cooperation of the putz for them
to put any effort into planning until said putz agreed. And even then,
especially given Kenny's weird moods lately, he wondered if they were
setting themselves up for a fall if the putz suddenly pulled out at the
last moment.
"Aren't we assuming too much about Kenny?" he asked. "He might not
even want to do it because... you know. Bad memories. Maybe we should
go with Jennifer after all."
Suzie rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! The stupid dolt will do it if
he knows what's good for him."
That made Jimmy more nervous, and he heard it in his own voice when
he said, "Suzie, if he doesn't want to, we shouldn't threaten him..."
"What? Oh! No! I didn't mean it that way. I meant that it would
be ever so good for him. Everybody knows about it, anyway. It kinda
helps me or something to talk about it now. It should help him to get
it out in the open, too."
"Yeah," he said after thinking a moment. "I guess that's right.
Maybe he should get several things out in public."
He glanced at Cinnamon, who knew that he was talking about the
cliff. She nodded solemnly.
"Then we don't have much time to do it Doctor Cutie's way," Huntly
said, waving a finger at Wynter's sketches. "Unless she wants to change
it to snow, because it will snow any day now. Unless it's already
started?" He directed the question to the new arrivals.
"No," Jennifer said. "But it's drizzling. The streets and
sidewalks will be slick tonight. It might even start freezing before dark."
"I didn't think about that," Wynter said. She looked disappointed
with herself. "Maybe we shouldn't save Jennifer for the spring show
after all. Snow would be a problem..."
"Not a problem," Cinnamon said in one of the few times she'd
interrupted with her own thoughts. Jimmy liked the way his Future
Sister-in-Law ran meetings, letting everyone else talk so that she
didn't preempt other people's ideas with her own, and then weighing in
when she'd made decisions. "The snow's supposed to stay above eight
thousand feet this week and next weekend. You simply have to go to a
lower altitude."
"Even then you'd need to do it quick, or the leaves will be gone
and they'll have snow down there, too," LaMarcus said. "Problem is,
Reggie's available for transportation this weekend, but I know most of
you have Labor Day plans on Monday and tomorrow's too short notice.
Isn't it? Anyway, next weekend he's taking Mama to Kansas for the weekend."
Cinnamon stretched and rolled her shoulders to relieve a muscle
kink. "Also not a problem. I know somebody who feels as guilty as
Kenny about the boat. He'll volunteer."
Wynter peeled away from Jimmy's side and straightened. "Sis!" she
said. "You can't blackmail Ron!"
Cinnamon splayed the fingers of one hand and pressed them to her
upper chest. "Me?" she asked with eyes wide. "Did I say anything about
blackmail? I said he'd volunteer."
Worry creased Wynter's beautiful face. "But... But if you make
him feel guilty so that he'll volunteer, then isn't that..."
Cinnamon looked at Jimmy and then jerked her head toward Wynter.
Jimmy understood. Cinnamon wanted him to explain so that Wynter
would listen. "Wynter, she doesn't have to make him feel guilty. He
already does. He'll volunteer because he wants to. You know Ron. He'd
probably volunteer anyway."
Blue-green eyes filled with concern focused on his. "But if we're
counting on him feeling guilty, isn't that ethically the same thing as
coercion? In principle, if not in action?"
That, he decided, is why I love her so much. Well, one of the
reasons. A very big reason.
Cinnamon waggled an index finger. "Sis, I merely made a
parenthetical observation. I'm not counting on his feeling guilty. Ron
will do it because he's a friend. And because it will also give him an
excuse to get Maria Alcalde out of town, away from her father's
all-seeing eye for a while."
"Oh." Wynter relaxed and snuggled against his side again. "Okay."
Hailey opened her mouth, but a warning glare from Cinnamon gave her
second thoughts. Instead she looked at the diagrams Finnegan was now
scribbling on Cinnamon's clipboard and whispered a question about one.
Jimmy glanced nervously toward his dad, glad that Cinnamon had
preempted whatever embarrassing thing Hailey was going to say in front
of Dad. Dad was staring back. He looked a little disappointed. Why
would he look disappointed about not hearing what she was about to say?
OH! Dad was disappointed in his reaction. Why?
But Dad had said why. And that didn't make sense. How could Dad
expect him to forget that they were father and son? That would be
like... like him forgetting that he and Wynter were a couple and
treating her just like she was just another one of the girls.
Wait a minute. After we're married, I'll have to do that if we do
research work together, like we want to do. We can't show each other
favoritism. It wouldn't be fair to everyone else unless I treat her
like one of them.
Sooo... This with Dad would be sort of like practice for after
Wynter and I are married?
That certainly sounded ridiculous on the surface. But he was smart
enough to look under the surface, the way Wynter did, and not analyze
just the surface like Brinkly. He examined it from different angles,
the way he'd learned from observing and listening to Wynter's analyses.
Another factor he considered was the... the relationship between
Wynter and her father. THAT was certainly more than a few off-color
comments, and yet he was handling it. He'd had a brief talk with Mister
King, and they'd both agreed that it was something they would never
discuss again, in public or in private. Well, of course not in public.
But he'd told Mister King that it wasn't his business. It was a
confidence, and he'd not ask Wynter anything about it. Mister King said
that it was over, but Jimmy had said that Wynter should be the one to
make that decision, and he'd lived through that moment.
So, he guessed he should ignore things like Hailey's comments and
Miss Jackson's--he meant Jennifer's--song choices around his dad. After
all...
"Jimmy?"
He focused and found Wynter's face inches from his own. Everyone
was standing except for Wynter and himself. Finnegan and Hailey were
helping Suzie to her feet. "Huh?"
Perfect white teeth flashed in a coral-lipped smile that made him
feel warm and loved. "I thought you'd like to tell everyone goodbye,"
she said.
"Huh?"
"You know, that's what I like most about you, Jimbo," Huntly said
as he offered a hand to pull Jimmy to his feet. "Your flair for
eloquent speechcraft. You should let Dad sponsor you in the Toastmasters."
"Huh?" he repeated as he rose.
Suzie waved off her crutches and threw her arms around Jimmy.
"Thank you ever so much for volunteering," she said. "I can't wait
until next Saturday." She gave him a quick kiss, then squeezed,
released him, and took her crutches from Miss... from Jennifer.
He frowned at Wynter.
"I knew you wouldn't mind if I spoke for you while you were
someplace else," she said with a serious look. "Besides, it's good
practice for after we're married. You've got a lot to learn between now
and eight o'clock next Saturday morning."
"Eight o'clock?"
"Yeah," Cinnamon said, raising her cell phone and rapidly rotating
her wrist left and right in half-circles. "Ron said you had to leave
before Mister Alcalde gets home from the graveyard shift."
"Leave?"
"I'll bring the camera to you tonight so you'll have it all day
tomorrow to practice your technique with it. You might want to bring it
Monday if our picnic doesn't get canceled by weather."
"Camera? Me? You want me to be the cameraman? I just do still
photography. I've never used a video camera before."
Cinnamon shrugged, raising her hands palm-up to shoulder level.
"That's why you get to practice with it and teach yourself tomorrow."
LaMarcus grabbed Jimmy's hand and pumped it vigorously. "Thanks
for volunteering, man. I am totally serious. No shit. I especially
appreciate it since I'm not nearly as good a photographer as you, and
not just because I'm not that happy being around snakes. The coyotes
don't bother me, but I don't think I could have handled being with the
rattlesnakes."
"What snakes?"
"Don't let him kid you, McCauley," scoffed Finnegan. "We won't use
real rattlesnakes. I can fix some others up to look like rattlers."
"What snakes?" He looked at Wynter, but she said nothing.
"But the coyotes will be real," Huntly added. "Those things always
have fleas really bad, so I'd wear clothes I don't mind burning afterward."
"What? There weren't any snakes and coyotes in it!"
"No, not at first," Dad said. "But we added them in later, while
you were gone wherever. The vote was unanimous, including yours that
Wynter made for you."
Guy slapped him on the shoulder. "You were the only one to vote in
favor of the skunk, though, so that idea was dropped."
"Skunk? What... HEY! Wait a minute!"
Guy looked at Cinnamon. "I think I pushed it too far."
"Yeah," agreed Huntly. "I guess I'm not the only shithead here."
"No," said Cinnamon with a grin. "But you're the only one that
counts with me."
Huntly grinned in turn. "Thanks, bitch."
While those two shared a long look into each other's eyes, Jimmy
slipped an arm under his girlfriend's and pulled her close. He kissed
her and whispered, "Just what did I volunteer to do?"
~ ~ ~
She flew upright in the darkness, gasping for air as a clawed hand
clutched her pounding heart with icy talons. She squealed when a sharp
pain stabbed her scalp. Cuz was sleeping on some of her long red hair.
She fought to breathe again as she glanced at the clock. Eight minutes
past two on... it was Sunday, wasn't it? Yes. Sunday morning. Think.
Get your mind working. It was just another dream. Think about
something else and let it wash out of memory as just another nightmare.
Only it wasn't "just another nightmare." And it was worse than the
last time. They were steadily growing worse, each more so than the
last, pushing her to the point where she almost feared going to sleep.
And she couldn't tell anyone. Not her father. Not Suzie. Not Huntly.
Not even Sis. For damned sure not her cousin.
That last made it somehow worse than not being able to tell
Wynter. She used to be able to share secrets with Hailey, but Cuz had
become so irresponsible these past two or three years that she feared
telling the girl anything that she didn't want public knowledge. She
knew that Hailey wouldn't deliberately tell secrets, but she'd speak
without thinking.
She wiped her cheeks, unsure how many tears belonged to the scalp
pain and how many to the latest dream. And how many to her inability to
talk to Hailey. She lay down again, rolled on her side, and scooted
back against Cuz. She lay still for a long time, then reached back.
Her fingers brushed over the elastic of Hailey's panties as she felt for
the far hip and then tugged it.
"Cuz?"
The older girl mumbled in the darkness, then rolled on her side so
that she was facing Cinnamon. "Yeah?"
"Hold me. Please? I need it."
"Of course," Cuz half-mumbled, half-yawned as she slid an arm over
and hunched her pantied crotch against Cinnamon's naked butt. Cuz
pulled back the curtain of hair to kiss her cheek.
"Hey! You're, like, crying," she mumbled.
She sighed. "Bad dream." She wished desperately that she could
say more.
Hailey kissed her neck. "Issokay. I'm 'ere."
"I know. That helps. A lot. I love you."
"I love you, too." Hailey buried her face in her cousin's neck and
whispered words of comfort for three or four minutes, then drifted back
to sleep.
For Cinnamon, fearing a return of the dreams, sleep came much later.
~ ~ ~
Wynter thanked Mrs. Gold and took the Brees family on a tour of her
first house. Jimmy and his parents had seen it the previous Labor Day,
so they waited in the living room with the others. Wynter started in
Mother's old office at one end of the house and proceeded to the
opposite end. The first pair of bedrooms were her old one and, across
the hall, the room where Daddy's hospital bed had been. That was the
recovery room where she'd first had personal experience with sexual
activities.
Then came the guest room where Nurse Carter had stayed, the room
that would have been her sibling's if Daddy hadn't given himself an
involuntary vasectomy with that broken ski.
Then came the other guest room and the master bedroom.
"Hey!" said Hailey in a dreamy tone. "I so wish we, like, had this
one in Hawaii."
"It is lovely," agreed Cinnamon, who gave Wynter a melancholy
smile. "Your parents put a lot of thought into the design. I guess you
miss it."
Wynter shrugged. "It's a nice house, but it's too far away from my
sisters."
Both adopted sisters kissed her cheeks.
Mrs. Vasquez put her hands on Wynter's shoulders from behind and
gently squeezed. "I know what you mean. I really love the little house
that Pete and I had, but the reason I like my new one isn't because it's
so much bigger or fancier. I like it because Mitch and Cinnamon are there."
"Yes, ma'am," Wynter agreed. "It's a matter of what's really
important. If I still lived here, I wouldn't know Jimmy. You'd be
someone I met only once or twice when I was little. I might not know
Cinnamon yet. And Hailey could spend her entire year here without my
meeting her."
"So it wouldn't be an entirely bad thing, then," Sis One said,
earning a disdainful retort from her cousin.
When the tour ended, Wynter paid the price for using her former
home for the families' picnic: Love is Blue on the Golds' piano.
"I wish we had a drum set," Mister Gold said after everyone
complimented her performance. "We'd charge Cinnamon, too." He opened a
drawer in a curio cabinet and pulled out a long, round object. "We got
this at the game Thursday night."
Wynter's heart swelled in her chest. It was one of the souvenir
drumsticks sold at the game as a fundraiser for the school. "You were
there?"
"Yes, but we were on the other side of the field," Mrs. Gold said.
"One grandson plays trombone in the Bears Marching Band."
The Knights Marching Band's star drummer put her fists on her
hips. "We'll forgive you this time," she said with a cross look that
was as phony as snake oil and patent medicine, "but don't make a habit
of sitting over there."
"No, ma'am!" said Mister Gold. He looked at the drumstick and grew
wistful. "I'm still waiting for a shipment of hardwoods that was due
Friday. I'm going to take some redgum or teak, or maybe zebrawood
depending on how the pieces look, and make a display stand. We'll put
it right here on top of the piano. Might be nice if we had an
autographed stick to put in it."
Cinnamon laughed and dug into her fanny pack. "Mister Gold, I'm
going to send Wally Sheridan's son up here for a few days. See if you
can teach him how to be that subtle."
"I know Huntly," Mister Gold said. "I can't."
While everyone laughed, Sis found her silver marker pen and carried
it and the stick to a writing desk. "This," she said as she signed, "is
the first stick of its kind, the first to have this signature on it.
That's what this extra means. It's now a collector's item!"
She handed the stick back, with a warning that the silver ink might
smear for a minute or two. The writing said, "Cinnamon 'Cymbals' Brees,
Stick No. 1."
~ ~ ~
"It was warmer last year," Jimmy said as they deposited the baskets
and coolers near the creek bank where Wynter used to practice her flute
in the summer while dangling her feet in the water.
"I think it will be okay in the sun, though," Doctor Brees replied
as everyone looked at the clearing sky. Everyone but Hailey, who was
rubbing her crossed arms and shivering.
"Hey! Why don't we, like, do this again for, like, Christmas Eve?
It would be so the fun!" she said with enough sarcasm to fill the creek
to overflowing.
"Sure," said Mister King. "There should be six to eight feet of
snow here by then. We could have a big snowball fight to stay warm."
"SIX TO EIGHT FEET?" Hailey's eyes were the size of Petri dishes
as she looked in horror at Mrs. King. "FEET?"
"At most," said Mrs. King. "The heavy snows won't arrive until
February or March."
"AT MOST? HEAVY?"
Cinnamon looked at her father. "I think she's finally paying
attention to what we've been trying to tell her about winter weather here."
Jimmy grinned at Hailey's distressed look. "Remember me telling
you that those large open areas were for dumping snow plowed from the
streets and sidewalks? When I said mountains of snow, I didn't mean
three- or four-foot-high piles. I meant mountains of three or more
stories."
"Holy shit, I'm, like, gonna DIE!" she wailed and collapsed to her
butt on a blanket. Dragon and Ghost immediately ran to her and started
licking her face.
Jimmy felt Wynter's hand find its home on his back. "We'll leave
you outside to freeze," Wynter said, "and then thaw you out for the
funeral when the snow melts off the gravesites."
Hailey gave her a black look. "That so isn't the help!"
Mrs. Vasquez put a basket in front of Hailey. "You'll be warmer if
you help unpack lunch. Ghost! That's not yours!"
Cinnamon rolled her eyes. "I wonder if she'd have been any happier
at the concert."
~ ~ ~
Brinkly suddenly spun her chair around, almost knocking Scott
Avanti off the Otter Park gazebo's ramp. She pointed at a passing idiot
and hissed, "What did that asshole just say?"
Scott looked, shrugged, and said, "He said this would be a better
concert if Cymbals was here. He meant Cinna..."
"I KNOW WHO THE HELL HE MEANT, YOU JACKASS! But, he called her
'Cymbals?'"
Scott shrugged. "Yeah. LaMarcus gave her that name at the
dedication performance for the shell. People are starting to use it
more often now."
She spun the chair back and slammed the control forward, wishing
she could run over somebody before the end of the ramp, somebody she
didn't need like she did Scott. How could someone else have given that
redheaded little bitch that name and she not know about it? Was Scott
lying? If so, why? Was he disloyal?
If he was disloyal, could Scott have told Brees about... No.
Nobody else knew about the sabotage at the shell dedication until that
morning, when her mother bribed that idiot, What's-his-face. The one
who got fired for getting caught, as he damned well should have. Brees
already had her light towers under construction by that time.
And speaking of the shell, why in hell couldn't her father have
arranged for its use? Sure, IST gave it to this ridiculous excuse for a
town, but IST ran the damned thing, and Daddy was the IST Entertainment
Director. It was his idea to shut the thing down until the contractors
could modify the security of the lights and sound and the storage
areas. Whose side was Daddy on, anyway?
She'd played in worse places than this gazebo in Otter Park, but
not much worse. And at those she didn't have to alternate with a
handful of acts who mostly sang shitkicker, if you could call something
that sounded like gargling while vomiting "singing."
~ ~ ~
"And in those trees over where they are," said Angie, nodding
toward the girls supervising Jimmy while he videotaped Wynter in front
of a small copse of mostly leafless aspens, "the year before Wynter was
born is where Diane surprised a wounded deer and insisted it had tried
to run her down and gore her with its 'horns.' She'd watched a news
broadcast that covered the running of the bulls in Pamplona that morning
and had that report on what passed for her mind."
Rosita packed the last of her empty food containers into her basket
and closed the lid. "I definitely have to meet that sister of yours one
of these days," she said, shaking her head as she seized control of her
runaway laughter. "All of those stories can't be true."
Marti shook her head. "No, you don't. I met her twice. That was
three times too many."
Rosita frowned with her eyes, though the humor never left her
lips. "No," she finally said. "She sounds like somebody I should meet
at least once."
"Fine," Angie said. "You go right ahead. But for piss' sake,
don't get Marti or me involved when you do."
~ ~ ~
Richard watched Jimmy videotape Wynter in front of a patch of trees
again, then play it back in the viewfinder while Wynter, Cinnamon, and
Hailey watched and commented. Then Jimmy repeated the process a fifth time.
"Hey, pitcher!" shouted Keith. "Remember us?"
Richard glanced at him, shrugged, and then fired a fastball at
Keith's catcher's mitt. Keith caught it and whipped it to Mitch almost
as fast as a batter could have sent it to him at first base.
Mitch yelped and shook his gloved left hand. "Careful! I need
this hand to deliver Cindy Gaines' twins tomorrow morning, unless she
decides to have them on her own today."
Keith looked at Richard and indicated Mitch with a jerk of his
head. "Big city wimp," he said.
Richard agreed and shagged a fly ball that Mitch lobbed at him.
"So, what's going on with the kids and the video camera?"
Keith shrugged. "I'm not allowed to tell you."
"Medical confidence?" asked Mitch.
Keith caught another fastball. "Artistic confidence. Wynter's
idea for the November talent show. My daughter's band is playing
instead of your daughter's."
Mitch looked at Richard and back at Keith. "She's not your
daughter yet. She's still Richard's."
Keith fired the ball into the ground in front of Mitch, forcing him
to catch it on the hop. "I'm trading him Jimmy for Wynter. Marti's
working out the details with Angie while we're having fun. Richard
always wanted a son."
"That's right," Richard replied, catching a respectable fastball
from Mitch. "I taught Wynter how to throw. Now I plan to teach Jimmy,
since Keith doesn't seem to have any talent as a teacher." He threw a
slider to Keith.
"If it were me," Mitch said, "I'd turn the job over to Coach
Suzie. Kevin says she's doing a great job of teaching Charlie to
throw." He caught, switched, and threw in one fluid motion.
Richard shook off Keith's signal, nodded at the next, and threw a
curveball. "Is there anything that girl can't do when she sets her mind
to it?"
"We're about to find out," Keith said, tossing a high fly at
Mitch. "She's expanding into acting. That's all I can tell you. But
she did a good job helping Cinnamon with Jimmy when he and Wynter had
some kind of spat." He frowned at Richard. "You have any idea what
that was about?"
Mitch's eyes flicked to Richard for an instant. "Keith, I don't
think we want to know. I've already had a couple of... interesting
moments with Rosita that I'd just as soon treat like national security
information."
Keith stared at Richard, then shrugged. "Yeah. I guess I had a
couple of those with Marti that I wouldn't want dragged out in public, too."
Richard released his breath and made a note to send Mitch a case of
beer. The good stuff.
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon shuddered, stifled a moan, and said into the telephone, "I
appreciate the update. And you're volunteering. Oh, and happy birthday
in a couple of hours."
She could hear Ron's grin. "If things go right, it'll be about as
happy as you are at the moment." Then his voice turned solemn. "But
I'm already happier than I was one year ago."
Exactly one year earlier the rescue team at the Hargus Mine was
cautiously boring a narrow shaft into the debris of the collapsed tunnel
and didn't know if Sis and Jimmy were alive or dead, healthy or injured,
though the ones who knew Dragon were certain that they were at least
alive. It wasn't until later that next day, on Ron's birthday, that he
got his present: proof that the second pair of the Hargus Four was
alive and uninjured when the first drill cut through into the chamber
where the pair was trapped.
"Well, at least things worked out okay at the end. Thanks for
everything today. Especially for arranging it so that Brinkly could
hear Billy call me Cymbals." She was sure she squealed the last word
when the tongue in her goodie box gave her clitty a high-speed lashing.
"No problem. I was taking care of a friend," he said. She heard a
rustle as he scratched his head. "Somebody I love very much says you
can never have too many friends. If that's Huntly with you, give him my
regards. Tell him I'm envious, too. Later!"
He hung up immediately so that she didn't have to try to speak.
That was good because the next sound she made was a grunt, followed by a
low moan that quickly became a shuddering gasp of release as she had her
third orgasm. It wasn't as big as the other two, but it was
nevertheless very nice, causing her to drop the switched-off phone
somewhere in the bed.
She gulped air as lips kissed an overlapping trail up her body.
Shifting of the mattress as the lips reached her ribs caused the phone
to roll against her side, its plastic cool against the heat of her naked
skin. When the lips reached the center of the valley between her
breasts they moved outward, alternating from side to side in more
overlapping kisses until they were alternately sucking on the hard pink
berries of her nipples.
A knee pressed against her shaved goodie box and wiggled. Number
four was almost as big as number three, and it was every bit as nice.
The lips retraced their alternating path back to her breastbone,
then again moved upward until they were mashed against her own and her
tongue was making a half-hearted attempt at repelling an invader as tiny
whimpers also surged into her mouth around thrusting wet flesh.
"Hey! It's, like, so my turn now!" Hailey moaned. "Coozie kiss."
She didn't wait for a reply but instead hunched her body, bringing her
own naked wet goodie box into contact with her cousin's left thigh. She
drew it up, leaving a wet streak as Cinnamon lifted her right leg,
giving the older girl easy access for a cunt-to-cunt kiss.
Cinnamon slid a hand between them, using her fingers to spread each
one's nether lips in an economy of movement brought about by six or
seven years of practice. Clitty mashed against clitty, and Hailey began
thrusting violently.
"God," Cuz moaned, "I wish yours was big enough to stick in me."
It was the first day after her period, and she was, as usual,
desperately horny. She had wanted Uncle Mitch to fuck her, but Cinnamon
had vetoed the idea. The picnic that afternoon had struck a responsive
chord in both Daddy and Rosita, and Cinnamon didn't want to separate
them. Hailey was enough of a romantic that she saw her cousin's point
and didn't press the issue, despite her need.
Maybe the habitually horny Hawaiian was finally growing up. Then
number five hit, and Cinnamon turned her attention away from her
cousin's mysteries and concentrated instead on things with which she was
intimately acquainted.
Chapter 8
Suzie thought the look Mister Shelby gave her when he came in the
classroom and took roll with a glance was ever so nice. It was ever so
nice, but it also had a hint of mischief or something that caused her to
wiggle in anticipation.
"Seats, please," he said, putting the cash box with the lunch
tokens on his desk while the bell rang. When everyone was mostly seated
he said, "First, I'd like to thank Miss Middleton for finally having the
courtesy to stop clogging our classroom with portable furniture. It
took her long enough."
Everyone applauded, and many said congratulations-type thingies to
her. She smiled and thanked them. Mister Shelby applauded, too, and
then waited until the others were finished, that mischief look still on
his face.
"Now if we can just get her to stop bringing those long pieces of
aluminum to block the aisles instead. I suspect she's planning to make
a toll gate and charge you to use the aisles. Please have exact change
ready. Next: Miss Simpson, you just volunteered to be the banker for
the cafeteria token bourse." Mister Shelby slipped a thumb behind a
suspender in the way that meant something funny was next. Sure enough,
he said, "Rumor has it that lunch today will be some kind of meat,
accompanied by side dishes that have an eighty percent probability of
being vegetable material."
"Again?" said a bright voice a couple of seats behind her. "My
favorite!"
Mister Shelby frowned. "Miss Simpson, charge Mister Sheridan
double. Or triple, and you can keep the extra."
Karlie, who was on the swim team with Suzie, took the cash box from
Mister Shelby's desk and looked inside. "It's pretty low. Looks like I
need to charge him quadruple," she said.
"Aw, man!" Huntly moaned.
Mister Shelby smocked, or smirked, or whatever that stupid word
was. "Next: welcome back from your Monday holiday. I'm sure all of
you spent the day studying for today's classes, especially for Mister
Shelby's Excellent Science Class later today."
Suzie didn't hear Huntly's voice among the protestors who were
saying Mister Shelby was wrong or something. She giggled. Sometimes he
did know when to keep his mouth shut.
"Next: I can finally stop reciting the new rules."
Suzie added her applause to everyone else's.
"Next: it's the beginning of the school year. You have elections
coming up at the end of next week for class president. You new students
may not know that the runner-up is automatically elected vice-president,
but that's the way it works here at Griffin Middle School. When you
advance to Dunne High School... or if you advance," he said with a
pointed stare at Huntly that caused everyone to laugh, "you'll have a
separate election."
"Aw, man!"
Mister Shelby made that weird look of mischief or something on his
face again. "You can announce your candidacy, or you can be drafted
through the nomination process. You can also..."
Brin Kwan, who was buying a cafeteria token, immediately turned
around and said to the class, "I nominate Cinnamon for seventh grade
president."
Suzie shivered because a little thrill ran through her body. She
thought that was an excellent choice, the only reasonable one, in fact,
but Cinnamon looked ever so startled. "Me?" the shorter redhead asked.
Several people applauded and started chanting, "Cinn-a-mon! Cinn-a-mon!"
Cinnamon gave Mister Shelby a question-look. He made a movement of
his hand, and she stood up. "Thank you," she said. "It's an honor to
be nominated, but I'm afraid I must withdraw."
"No WAY!" said Huntly. Others agreed.
She waved down the arguments the same way she waved down cheering
crowds at band concerts. "There are two reasons. One, I've been here
less than a year, and... quiet, please, and let me finish. I've been
here less than a year, and I think I should see a whole school year
first. Those of you who have been here all your lives know more than I
do about what's required, so one of you should be elected. No offense
intended to Mark, Susan, and Ted, who are even newer than I am."
"None taken," said Ted Muller. "I kinda feel, like, you know,
you're right. I don't have a clue about what's going on yet, you
know." Mark Walters and Susan Ritter agreed with him.
"Thanks. And the second reason is that I just don't have enough
time. Maybe next year I won't have such a full plate, but not this
year. But, I do have a recommendation for a substitute, somebody who's
been here all her life and who is bright and hard working enough for the
job. She would make an excellent choice."
Suzie felt another little thrill for her other best friend. Wynter
would be ever so good as class president, too! She and her dolt would
work ever so hard to see to it that Wynter was elected. She knew her
dolt would help because he loved Wynter, too. And because she'd scream
at him ever so loud if he didn't help.
Cinnamon continued. "Ladies and gentlemen and Huntly..."
"Aw, man! Not you, too, Brutette!"
Cinnamon pointedly ignored him while everyone else laughed. When
they were quiet again she said, "I nominate the most capable person I
know for the position of seventh grade president, a fearless worker and
a natural leader if there ever was one..." She turned her head and
stared straight into Suzie's eyes. "...Miss Suzanne Middleton!"
~ ~ ~
Judi Beard glanced at the clock. Two minutes to go. "That will be
all for today, since we don't have time to start the next topic before
the bell rings. But I want to note that it was almost exactly one year
ago that two of our class were rescued."
Jimmy looked at his watch. "About twenty-three more minutes,
actually. It was nine minutes to two when the first rescuer broke through."
Trust the McCauley boy to have it timed to the minute, and probably
to the second. He might not have the eye for detail that the Brees girl
had, but who did? But he had enough eye for detail, presence of mind,
and thoroughness to make a good research scientist. Ten minutes into
her first class she'd determined that nobody had exaggerated the King
girl's grasp of medicine. But by the end of that class she'd also
determined that Jimmy's grasp of other areas of science, while not of
the same magnitude as Wynter's medical understanding, was well above
that of most high school students and many college students she'd known.
"Well," she said with a smile, "happy anniversary in twenty-three
more minutes. We're certainly glad that you got out alive and healthy."
The boy looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Excuse me, Ms. Beard, but
everyone seems to have overlooked the fact that Monday was the
anniversary of the day that Kenny kept those two creeps from killing us
and that Suzie went for help and caused us to be rescued. Wynter and I
might not be here today if not for Suzie, and the three of us definitely
wouldn't be here today if not for Kenny. All Wynter and I did was sit
in the dark. If anybody should be commemorated, it's Suzie and
especially Kenny. They did the hard part, the hero's part. We just sat."
Judi was convinced that the young lovers had done more than just
sit while stranded in that darkness. The looks that Wynter gave him,
especially the one she was flashing now because he'd stood up for the
acclaim rightfully due their friends, spoke of far more than just
school-girl infatuation. They truly were an inseparable pair and
comprised a synergy far greater than the two of them individually.
She nodded acquiescence. "You are right, of course. And I meant
no slight to the two of you," she said to the other half of The Hargus
Four. "I apologize for overlooking you. We are very grateful that you
survived, too, and that today's anniversary was made possible by your
efforts."
Suzie beamed at her. "Thank you, Ms. Beard."
Kenny, however, said nothing. His face showed that he had
withdrawn somewhere within and was doing battle with some inner demon.
And losing.
~ ~ ~
"I just can't believe it!" Brinkly snarled, pounding her fist on
the dining room table.
Cori looked at Trish and Leigh Ann, then back at Brinkly. It
wasn't good to be the one who brought Brinkly bad news. Cori obviously
wished it had been one of the other two. "Well, that's what Chad said,
anyway. Forty-seven percent were for Hailey, thirty-one percent were
for you, and the rest evenly divided between Todd, Mark, and undecided
today."
"What's Mark doing running against me, anyway? What kind of
loyalty is that?" She drummed her fingertips on the table. She spoke
more to herself than to the Pack when she said, "He's going to withdraw
and tell his followers to vote for me, or he's out of the band. It's
that simple."
Leigh Ann looked uneasy. "Brinkly, he's your number one rhythm
guitarist. Won't he be hard to replace?"
Brinkly snorted. "I'll get Ryan Lefave. He's good, and he can use
money, so if I have to, I'll pay him."
Trish curled her upper lip. "The faggot's brother? Isn't he a
tenth grader?"
"Eleventh." She grinned. "I don't have an eleventh grader yet.
Maybe the Brink of Disaster could use one for variety. But, his
brother's queer?"
Trish shrugged. That's what the guys on the swim team think."
Brinkly straightened in surprise. "Swim team? With Middleton?"
"Yeah," said Leigh Ann. "Nobody knows for sure, but the guys think
he's checking them out in the showers."
"Never mind that!" she barked. "Is he Middleton's friend? Can we
use him to get information out of Middleton about what Brees is doing?
Maybe I should kick Mark out for Ryan anyway."
"I don't know," Leigh Ann admitted. The other two shrugged in
similar ignorance.
I'm surrounded by fools. No wonder nobody's running eighth grade.
No ambition. No vision. This school needs me. Which is why they need
to elect me class president instead of Brees's idiot cousin. By the
time I'm a senior, I'll be running the high school, including the
faculty. "Never mind that crap. It can wait. The real problem is that
the election's one week from tomorrow, and I'm behind. That hula-hula
bitch has been gaining ground since she was nominated Tuesday."
"Well, yeah," Cori said. "With the guys anyway. Most of them
won't turn down her offer."
"Offer?" She hadn't heard about that bitch buying votes. "So,
she's using her money to get what she wants, just like her goddamned
cousin does?"
"No," said Cori, shaking her head vigorously. "Don't you know?"
Trish was also shaking her head. "The word was going around
today. She's offered to blow any guy who swears to vote for her."
"What?"
"Yeah," said Leigh Ann. "She blew Donnie and the three guys who
made a touchdown at the game last week, you know. Apparently she's both
ways and willing to make the same offer to any girl who votes for her,
too. Hey! Trish, isn't it time for you to go get ready for tonight's
game?"
Startled, Trish looked at the clock. "Shit! Yeah, I'm gonna be
late." She started to rise, but Brinkly stopped her with a dangerous look.
"One thing before you go. I plan to win. Your job as my election
committee is to do everything you can to see to it that I get elected,
and I mean everything! You put the word out tomorrow that any or all
three of you will blow any guy who votes for me. No, you do it starting
with the game tonight. If that's not enough, tell them you'll go all
the way to get their votes. Clear?"
"What?"
"Huh?"
"No way!"
Brinkly glared at Trish and hissed, "Don't you dare tell me 'No
way,' girl! I'm on my way to the top, and you can either do what I say
if you want to be on the summit with me, or you can sit on your precious
cunt on the sidelines and be one of the lowly left behind."
"But," Trish blubbered, "I'm going steady with..."
Brinkly pounded the table again, cutting her off. "You think it's
a free ride to the top? I'm having to work my butt off to get there.
By God, you'll have to work, too, if you want to join me or I'll replace
you with someone willing to do the job. I'll buy Katie Wilson away from
Brees and let her have your ticket, Trish."
Brinkly wasn't dumb enough to think that she had any chance of
getting Wilson away, and besides, Wilson was only a seventh grader and
therefore of no use in taking control of the eighth grade, but Trish
hated the girl so much that the very thought was enough to make her
emotions override her common sense. Not that Trish was blessed with an
excess of common sense, which is what made her a perfect tool for many uses.
"But... But..." Trish swallowed hard. "Isn't there something else
I could do to..."
"NO!" She slammed the table again, so hard that she winced with
pain. "We all have to make sacrifices to get what we want, Trish. If
you don't understand that, maybe you don't have what it takes after
all. Right, Cori?"
Cori shrugged. "There's no free lunch."
"Right, Leigh Ann?"
Leigh Ann blinked and squirmed in her chair. She glanced nervously
at the other two, then looked at the table in front of Brinkly.
"Uuuh... Right. I guess."
"Right, Trish?" The girl blinked at her. "RIGHT TRISH?"
She slowly nodded, then sighed and lowered her head in
resignation. "Right. Okay. No, I'll... I'll do it if it's necessary."
Brinkly stabbed a finger at her. "The BJs are necessary. If
that's not enough, then the rest is necessary, too." The finger swept
around to the other two. "Understood."
"Yes," said Leigh Ann, also swallowing hard. "Understood.
Cori shrugged. "Fuck 'em."
Brinkly nodded coldly. "If necessary, yes."
~ ~ ~
"Good morning, shithead!"
"Morning, bitch." Huntly held open the door and allowed her to
enter the school first.
"So why are you waiting for me at the door and wearing Kenny's
Patented Shit-Eating Grin?"
Huntly's arm swept around her shoulders, spreading warmth through
her overcoat and sweater. "I thought you'd like me to be the first to
tell you what Brinkly did."
She looked up at him, accepted a couple of congratulatory comments
on her performance at halftime the night before, and asked, "How'd she
drive over her tit this time?"
"Wellll," drawled Huntly before pausing to let three more
passers-by offer congratulations, "it seems she stormed up to Mark
Williams this morning, damned near driving over him, and demanded that
he either renounce his candidacy for class president and tell his
supporters to vote for her instead or else kiss her band goodbye."
"Uh huh," she said. "And who's going to be her new first rhythm
guitarist?" Mark, like most of the others, had grown weary of Brinkly's
dictatorial attitude.
"Don't know yet. But," he lowered his head to her ear and
whispered, "I'm willing to bet whoever it is will also be out of a job
after assembly this morning."
She snorted. "Before I'd take the opposite side in that bet, I'd
play poker with you. I'd have a better chance of winning."
He leered at her. "Strip poker?"
She leered back. "Why waste time with the cards?"
They had reached the main office door. His response was preempted
by Principal Peters, who appeared and asked if she could follow him to
his office for a moment. She handed Huntly her backpack and asked him
to take it to home room for her. They exchanged grins in the process.
Thanks to Jennifer, they knew what he wanted.
Principal Peters complimented last night's half-time performance
until he closed his door and asked her to take a seat.
"Okay. What's the bad news?" she asked.
He gave her a look of curiosity. "How do you know it's bad news?"
Okay, he asked. "Sir, you called me 'Cinnamon' instead of 'Miss
Brees.' Twice, in fact. When you do that you either want something or
it's bad news. When you want something, you smile. When it's bad news,
you are very solemn. You're being solemn."
"You're saying I'd starve if I gave up education and played poker
for a living?"
"Don't worry. Professional poker players endure far worse stress
than school principals. And besides, you'd be bored to tears without a
few hundred kids making your life interesting."
"Those two sentences sound oxymoronic."
She shrugged. "Life is complicated."
He sighed. "Unfortunately, it is. I've had a complaint about your
band's composition in regard to the upcoming talent show. The
complainant says that it's not fair for Keith McCauley to perform
because he's not in the school."
She put on her brightest smile, causing her eyes to narrow as her
round cheeks were pushed up. "That's not surprising and not at all
unreasonable," she said. She almost giggled at the relief in his face.
"But it's not a problem. Junior and the Twins won't be performing
anyway. Wynter's band will play, and she's working on something...
different. Jimmy's dad isn't in that band."
"I see." The relief in his face was nothing compared to that in
his voice. "You're right. I don't have a problem. But, you said
different. How?"
She stared at him for a moment. Why didn't I expect that
question? I'm slipping! I've got to stop being distracted by the
nightmares! "Sir, it's not my band, so it's not my place to say
anything more. The details are still hazy, so Wynter's not ready to
discuss it yet, but maybe after this weekend we'll know what we want to
do with enough certainty that she can discuss the concept with you next
week. It's more of an audiovisual performance than just a band
performance. But I don't think I'm out of line if I tell you that if it
works, it will knock people's socks off."
"An audiovisual performance? Hmmm. But... Cinnamon, are any
adults..."
"We're doing everything ourselves. That's the band plus Finnegan
for lights and sound and some mechanical work, if you approve that. Our
only requirements for adult input would be from Mister Tillman for
supervising and assisting with the mechanical work, and he gets involved
with all stage requirements for the school anyway."
"Yes, Bill does." Principal Peters relaxed and smiled. "You're
right. I don't have a problem," he said again. He sounded even happier
than before. "Thank you. You still have time to make it to class
before the bell, so you shouldn't need an excuse slip."
She shook her head. "Not with Mister Shelby, no. He knows I
wouldn't lie to him about being in your office."
"That's true," he said as he rose. "This school needs more
teachers like him."
"Yes, sir. But he's one of a kind."
"Like some of the students. Say, I hear you're called 'Cymbals' now."
"Yes, sir. LaMarcus gave me that name at the dedication
performance, you know."
"So I've also heard." He almost camouflaged the skeptical look.
Almost. He was right about starving as a professional gambler. "Well,
I have to get ready for the second period assembly. I'll have an
announcement to make about the talent show."
"Yes, sir, I know." When he looked puzzled, if not suspicious, she
added, "Nobody's set the guidelines yet, and everyone needs to know what
they are. You would want to let the performers know as far in advance
as possible. After all, Wynter and others might have to revise plans
after we hear them. Since we'll be doing some of the main work
tomorrow, we rather urgently need to know. Griffin Middle School isn't
like some of those schools back east. Here, you care about what's right
for the students. So, I would expect you to announce guidelines this
morning."
He needed to work on his inscrutability. Perhaps the student had
taught the educator a lesson.
~ ~ ~
Ron backed the Mercedes SUV out of the Brees' driveway and pointed
it north. "Last chance to remember something," he said.
Everyone reported ready, and he hit the gas.
"Hey, this isn't bad," he said, glancing around at the vehicle's
interior. "After I get rich as a botanist, I'm going to buy me one of
these."
Maria smiled at him. She had the prettiest teeth, as perfect as
Wynter's. "There's nothing wrong with your car."
Ron looked at his wheels shrinking into the distance in the right
side mirror. Mechanically it was sound, but it wasn't new and it
certainly wasn't a luxury vehicle. He was almost embarrassed to take a
girl on a date in it. Not embarrassed so much for himself, but because
he thought a nice girl deserved to ride in a nicer vehicle. "Nothing
that thirty or forty thousand more dollars couldn't fix." He
momentarily dropped his hand to her leg and squeezed the inside of her
thigh.
"I see that," Wynter said.
"Me, too," said Kenny, his Patented Shit-Eating Grin so obvious in
his voice that Ron didn't need the mirror to tell it was there. "More
attention to the highway and less to the thighway, since you have only
one hand and arm to steer. If Maria needs her legs played with, she can
come back here with me and... OW!"
"You dolt."
Ron laughed at the sound of frustrated resignation in Suzie's
voice. He knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help himself because
she had exaggerated it.
Or maybe with Kenny it wasn't exaggeration. It could well have
been honest frustration. The boy did let the wrong head do too much of
his thinking.
Maria looked at Kenny between the seats, then laughed. "If you
want x-rated entertainment, maybe you should turn around. "
Ron checked the inside mirror. From the looks of things, it was
even money that either Finnegan or Huntly or both would be getting
lucky in about three minutes, maybe four. The Saturday morning traffic
was heavy enough that it might take that long to get to the highway if
they caught all the red lights.
Kenny looked over his shoulder. "When you guys are finished, Suzie
and I want to trade seats, so get with it."
Suzie scowled at him. "What makes you think I'd want to get in the
back seat with you?"
Kenny whispered in her ear, causing her to giggle. "Oh. Yeah.
Hey, hurry it up back there!"
"Now what?" Jimmy stage-moaned.
Ron watched Wynter shaking her head in the mirror. "Maybe you
don't want to know."
"Good point. Never mind. Forget I asked."
Something was different about Jimmy. He was too calm. For Jimmy.
Something had changed. Of course, it was entirely possible that he'd
merely given up on reforming Kenny. It was also possible that he was
more concerned by the new, brooding Kenny, who had withdrawn into
himself three times before they had left Cinnamon's house.
Ron wasn't sure what was wrong, other than it probably had
something to do with the boat wreck and De Ramirez. Suzie's injury?
Guilt that he, too, had failed to prevent it? No. It's more than just
that. It apparently came back to the death of De Ramirez.
He kept one eye on the mirror, watching Kenny, while the other
alternated between Maria, the highway, and Maria. He'd dreamed of this
weekend nonstop since Cinnamon had called and asked for help. But now
his attention was fixed more on Kenny than on Maria. He sighed to
himself and glanced down at his arm in the sling. Life would be so much
easier if he was an asshole.
~ ~ ~
Huntly had no real job other than loosely filling a few garbage
bags with dead leaves, being careful not to crush them into powder in
the process, but it wasn't time for him to do that yet. He helped
Engineer Finnegan bracket Gopher Hailey for warmth while Producer Bitch
consulted with Cameraman Jimbo, and Director Cutie conferred with the
two actors.
He was more than a little surprised when Driver Ron asked... Good
question. What is Maria's function? Driver's Recreation Center?
Anyhow, when Ron asked her to help Finnegan keep Hailey warm and dragged
Huntly around to the other side of the vehicle, literally, with his good
arm.
"What do you know about what's wrong with Kenny?"
Huntly blinked at him, then finally said, "Excuse me. I'm not
normally one who questions how a genius works, but shouldn't you be
consulting with the other genius instead of her boyfriend?"
"She'll give me her analysis. I want raw input to form my own. Do
you know anything?"
That made sense. "No. Cinnamon's mentioned a few suppositions,
but facts? No. Hey, if Kenny won't talk to you, he damned sure won't
talk to me."
"Normally," Ron said. "But he's being anything but normal. You
were too busy sucking face and body parts to notice, but he went away
into his own world for a quarter of the trip here. Suzie'd pull him
back for a little bit, and then he'd drift off again. He did it while
he was kissing her once."
Huntly was startled. "Boy Blunder did that?" He glanced toward
the videotaping. "Holy space out! Then he's worse off than I thought."
"No horseshit, kemo sabe. That's why I'm worried. Do you think
acting his part in this is affecting him somehow? Resurrecting guilt
feelings over Judy and Tiffany?"
Huntly thought about that. "No. He was that way before Wynter had
this idea."
Ron grunted and pondered for a moment. Finally he shrugged.
"Well, thanks for your input."
"I didn't have any."
"No, no!" Ron said, shaking the forefinger of the arm the sling.
"Didn't your personal genius ever explain to you that sometimes you
don't recognize the value of information until well after you've
received it?"
"Probably. But you know how it is while talking to her. I was
most likely concentrating less on her words and more on her tits."
Ron had turned to leave, but he suddenly turned back. Huntly
expected something about his statement, but Ron's mental train had taken
a different track. "May I ask you a personal question?"
"Excuse me. You need me to explain Wynter's dad's rule about
questions to you? Did you leave your brains in your other deerstalker hat?"
"With personal questions, sometimes it's better to clarify that the
other person," he jerked his head toward the moody and unpredictable
Kenny to illustrate his point, "understands the rule. "Did I catch
Hailey sucking you off?"
"I don't know. Which time?"
Huntly thought Ron had looked less shocked when the bullet hit
him. "WHICH TIME?"
"Yeah. The time it was just her, or the time it was both cousins?"
Ron's mouth worked several times before it produced sounds. "Are
you serious?" It was a dumb question because Huntly's eyes had already
given him that answer, but Ron obviously felt he had to say something.
That was all that he could get out.
"As serious as an IRS agent smelling phony deductions."
"Holy...!" His voice dropped. "Hey, can you and Finnegan keep
Hailey away from the car for a bit while we use it? I really don't
think Maria would appreciate an offer of help."
"Of course we can," Huntly said, slapping him on his good
shoulder. "And since you're a friend, we'll charge you only half of our
standard hourly babysitting rate."
~ ~ ~
"WHITNEY GWYNETH KENNEDY!" Cinnamon screamed. The moody gray hills
shook with the echoes as the older girl's head appeared in the window of
the SUV. Cinnamon stabbed a finger at the ground in front of her." GET
YOUR ASS OVER HERE! NOW!!!"
The Hargus Four had stopped taping and were looking at her. Suzie
was giving her a nod and a smile of appreciation. But she didn't have
time for that, thanks to her hare-brained cousin. She whirled on Huntly
while Hailey climbed back into her own pants. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Huntly looked startled, though not nearly as startled as Maria, who
had never heard a pissed-off Cinnamon before. "You heard what I told
Ron and what he said. She made the offer to me. It wasn't really all
that unusual for her, was it? I didn't think anything about it. I
didn't know she'd made it to anyone else."
She should have guessed. Cuz had been backsliding on her
newly-discovered sense of responsibility and was reverting back to her
old habit of speaking without thinking. Why should she be surprised to
learn that Cuz was backsliding on this? Or that word had reached the
high school, too. She wasn't angry at Huntly, she was angry at Cuz, but
she was taking it out on him because he was handy. Huntly was right.
She was a bitch. "Huntly, I'm sorry."
He circled her shoulders and squeezed her in a quick hug. "That's
okay. I still love you."
She smiled in spite of her mood, kissed him, then stormed halfway
back to the van, where Hailey and Finnegan met her, both looking puzzled.
"Hey! Like, what's so the big?"
Cinnamon glared at her for a moment, then fixed her steady gaze on
Finnegan. "Did she offer to blow you if you voted for her?"
Finnegan returned her look and shrugged. "I told her I couldn't
vote in the eighth grade's election, but she said she'd do it anyway.
And she was until we were so rudely interrupted."
"Did you know she was making that offer to all the guys in the
eighth grade?"
His eyes widened in genuine surprise. He looked up at Hailey. "Is
that true?"
Cuz casually flipped a hand. "Hey! So not the big! It's not,
like, sex or anything."
Cinnamon clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. "Finnegan, I
really want to throw something right now. Please give us a few moments
alone so that I don't accidentally hurt you, because I'll regret it
later, knowing it's not your fault."
He continued to glare at her for a moment, then suddenly relaxed.
"Yeah. Good idea. I'll go... uh..." He left the thought unfinished
and dashed toward Huntly, Ron, and Maria.
"Hey! Cuz, like..."
"SHUT UP!" To her surprise, Hailey did. "I thought you learned
from De Ramirez that thinking with your twat could get other people
hurt. And," she added hastily when she saw Cuz inhale to speak, "that
you understood you could catch something you didn't want just as easily
while giving hummers."
"Hey! I, like, so used a rubber when I blew Jeffrey Delorme."
That stopped her cold. "What are you talking about?"
Cuz cocked a hip to one side and splayed her fingers over it. With
her other hand she pointed at her chest and widened her eyes defiantly.
"Hey! You mean, like, I know more about what's, like, happening in
school than Miss Sherlock Fucking Brees?"
Now, that was a frightening thought. Maybe she really was losing
her mind. "Apparently."
"Jeffrey's cousin Theresa in Salt Lake City, like, gave him the
clap, and..."
"AND YOU BLEW HIM?"
Cinnamon felt disoriented when she realized that the look Hailey
was giving her was the one that always before had been aimed in the
other direction. Then Cuz shook her head and said, "Hel-LO! Like, we
are so not listening! Didn't I just say I so blew him through a rubber?"
How many times in her life had she ever been at this big a loss for
words. Never. She finally found one. "Why?"
Cuz added a few more degrees to the angle of her hip and flipped
her free hand. "Hey! You so think you're the only one who, like can
come up with a plan and, like, do it? And one that's working, like,
perfect, you know?"
She blinked. "PLAN?" Another blink. "What kind of 'plan'
requires you to risk the clap?"
"HEY! Like rubber? R-u-b... uh, two b's... e-r? Rubber? Okay?"
She shook her head. "I thought you finally understood that they
aren't a hundred percent protection from disease or pregnancy. I really
thought you understood. Don't you know you can wind up with a death
sentence, like Suzie's sister?"
Cuz snorted, rolled her eyes to the sky, and shook her head like
Cinnamon was too dense to understand. "Hel-LO! That's why we, like,
took extra precautions?"
"What extra precautions? What plan? Why in the hell did you blow
somebody you knew had the clap, rubbers and 'extra protection' or not?
Cuz, don't you understand that it's not 'just the clap' anymore? That
there are strains out there now that can't be cured? Why would you risk
that?"
She had to ask several questions to get Hailey to clarify what she
meant in numerous places, but at the end she had to give the girl
credit. Grandfather Grenville's genes had also been passed on to her
horny Hawaiian cousin. It was a plan worthy of herself. Except for one
thing. "Cuz, have you considered the moral implications, to say nothing
of the legal ones, of using..."
Hailey gave her a look of furious anger and loomed over her.
"Don't you, like, DARE lecture me on morality, Miss High and Mighty!
You think I am so the dumb, don't you? Never mind what you did to Aunt
Bitch. You, like, think I don't know what you were doing in the boat,
don't you? You, like, so think nobody can figure out why you chased him
into that cove when he was, like, already trapped in there! WELL!
Guess. Fucking. What. I sure as hell can! I've, like, been your best
friend since you were born. I, like, know you so the better than Uncle
Mitch. I so know exactly what was going on behind those narrow green
eyes, toots."
Cinnamon stopped blinking, tilted her head slightly to the side,
and peered deep into Cuz's eyes.
Holy shit, she knows the truth!
~ ~ ~
Suzie wiped her eyes and gave Kenny a soft kiss while Jimmy rewound
the tape and brought the camera to her. He was ever so thoughtful that
way, making sure that she didn't have to use her hurt leg more than
necessary.
And Wynter was ever so nice, too. Wynter had designed everything
so that she didn't need her crutches and nobody could tell she was
injured in the video. Wynter even had Jimmy reshoot scenes to keep
people from seeing her in pain. Okay, the pain from her leg, she meant.
And Kenny was ever so nice in the way he'd duck down out of the
picture and hold her so that she didn't need the crutches when she had
to move. He picked them up and handed them to her, so she could take
the weight off her leg while they waited. "Are you okay?" he asked. He
sounded ever so concerned.
"Yes," she said, and kissed him again. Strange, wasn't it, that
this part of the taping was where she felt like kissing him the most.
She guessed that she needed to do that as a reminder that they were only
acting and not fighting again for real.
Everyone jumped when Cinnamon suddenly screamed Hailey's name.
"Hey, that's not bad!" she said, and gave her smaller friend a smile and
nod across the distance to where she stood with Ron and Maria and Huntly.
Kenny squeezed her to his side, being careful to not put pressure
on her injury. "Wynter does it better," he said, "but even she's not as
good as you."
She kissed him again. "Thanks. I wish ever so much that I'd been
there to hear her."
Wynter smiled. "Not half as much as Jimmy and I wish we'd been
there to hear you tell off Judge Wilson. I'd almost give up Jimmy to
hear that."
Jimmy stopped the rewind and gave Wynter a look of some kind or
something that made Wynter grin. "As long as it's almost, but, yeah.
I'd give almost anything except Wynter to have heard you, too. Okay,
here goes."
Everyone watched the replay on the camera's screen. "Good," Wynter
said at the end. She checked her notes. "One more scene and we're done."
Ron, Maria, and Huntly suddenly appeared, with Huntly still
shorterling--or whatever that stupid word was--over how that stupid
Brinkly had acted after Principal Peters said only people from Griffin
Middle School could be in the talent show. And that was right after the
stupid witch had fired one of her two remaining performers from the
middle school! Suzie thought the stupid girl was going to pee in her
wheelchair when Mark said there was no way he would come back, and that
he might start his own band instead now that he knew how not to run one.
Wynter grabbed Ron and hugged him again, being extra careful not to
hurt his broken collar bone. "Ron! I still can't believe you knew a
place that looked exactly like what I was thinking!"
Ron made one of his funny faces at Maria and said in one of his
funny voices, "She spends so much time around her brilliant adopted
sister that she forgets how truly amazing Renaldo Angelo Lopez the Great
is."
"Ain't that the truth," said Huntly in an exaggerated drawl. "I
can't think of anyone with a greater talent for bullshit. Can you, Boy
Blunder?"
"Just one," Kenny said. "His dad."
Suzie thought Ron looked like she must have looked when she broke
the first of Jennifer's swim records or something. The greatest
possible compliment for Ron was to be compared to his dad.
Jimmy looked up from the camera's controls and flicked a pointing
finger at Cinnamon and Hailey. "So, what's the screaming event about?"
Huntly explained while Jimmy finished whatever he was doing.
Suzie grabbed her dolt's jacket and dragged his face up to hers.
"Don't forget, you can't vote in the eighth grade's election. All your
votes are for me! Right?"
Kenny shook his head, then nodded it. "Yes, dear."
Huntly snickered. "You know, that was almost perfect, Boy
Blunder! Have you been taking groveling lessons from Jimbo?"
While Jimmy mumbled, "Asshole!" Maria said to the giggling Wynter,
"Ron told me about you and those two," she waved a hand at the arguing
cousins, "being adopted sisters. I was wondering if you'd adopted
Suzie, too."
"No," said Wynter, suddenly looking uncomfortable or something.
"Suzie and I have been like sisters for a long time."
"I had Caroline," Suzie said, feeling a need to explain. And
feeling very guilty about Wynter's thinking of her like a sister while
she was trying to undermind Wynter's relationship with Jimmy. "Wynter
and Cinnamon and Hailey didn't have anyone else, not even something like
that stupid cow. Then, in Swim Camp, Jennifer sort of became my big
sister when the judge sent her to Buena Vista. So, maybe we aren't
adopted sisters, but we're best friends and like sisters."
Maria snuggled closer to Ron. "Oh. Well, I didn't know. I was
just wondering."
Ron scratched his head. "You could have asked me, you know."
Maria looked at him, laughed, and said nothing. Suzie was watching
that and didn't notice that Wynter had suddenly gone someplace else.
Chapter 9
It had been, like, so the easy! Once she'd realized that Brinkly,
like, owned Trish and the other two bimbos like they were her
slaves or whatev' all she had to do was get the right word in, like,
the right ears! That was, like, so not the prob with a little help from
some of her special friends. Cuz was so the right about never having
too many friends! The hard had been getting Jeffrey to, like, go along
with her plan, but that dumb bitch Brinkly so helped screw herself with
that, too!
Like, what was so the prob with the girls here? So Jeffrey was,
like, nerdy. He was buff, attractive enough, and polite. When she
offered herself to him on Tuesday, he was like, "I can't do that," and
she was like, "Why not?" and he was like, "I have this problem and it's,
like, contagious." Just try and find someone at Waimea that cautious
and considerate! So the imposs!
Because the local girls had been, like, "No WAY!" toward him, horny
Jeffrey had done his risky older cousin and, like, got the clap from her
despite using a rubber. But he was so the thoughtful that when she
offered herself for a date at lunch Tuesday that he, like, refused for
her own safety. Guys like him were so the rare! And just then Cori,
like, passed by and gave her shit for being Cuz's cousin and gave
Jeffrey so the worse just for being Jeffrey! Cori. So the bitch!
And that was, like, when her plan was born. With a little info
from Kenny--no WAY would Sis, like, go along with her plan, so she
didn't bother asking to avoid the lecture that would follow like foam
from a breaker and with that unexpected help from Cori, and with a
little help from Jeffrey's safe BJ and a promise of so the more when he
was cured, the plan was, like, in the pipeline!
Then with a few guys, like, chumming the water by quietly
discussing her "offer" where the Pack could eavesdrop, she hooked her
fish Thursday. Then when those guys...
HEY! Those guys, like, needed a special name. They were special
friends and, like, deserved a separate, special name, right? After all,
that bitch in the wheelchair, like, had her "Pack." Hailey's...
Hailey's... Hailey's Heroes? No. Hailey's Hungsters? The thought
made her wet with both memory and anticipation, but, like, no way.
Hailey's Harem? She dropped a hand into her lap and secretly gave her
tingler a tickle. But, no. Hailey's Helpers? Puh-leez! So, what else...
Hailey's Hammers?
She, like, gave it a brainwax. They were, like, her tools, and
their tools so gave her a good hammering! And they, like, hammered out
probs for her. And they, like, fit so the nice in her toolbox! SO the
ANSWER!
Okay, so, then her Hammers, like, reported the Pack was making
offers for guys to switch votes to that vicious Vermont virgin. The
bitch had so swallowed the bait! Then her Hammers were like, "I want a
threesome," to the Pack, and they all went "What if we just suck you?"
and the Hammers were like, "Just a BJ? No WAY!" and then they all went,
"Okay," and then each Hammer was like, "But all three of you have to
make me cum," and they all went, "no WAY!" and the Hammers were like,
"Then we won't vote for Brinkly and won't tell anyone else to," and they
all went, "Okay, if you promise you'll vote for Brinkly and tell your
friends." God, the Pack was so under orders from that waste of coozie.
And, God, that obnoxious bitch and her orders were so the predict!
Her Hammers knew to, like, do the Pack only on Friday or Saturday
and they made sure that some people--ones who also thought Brinkly and
her Pack were, like, totally bitches--also knew that Sunday and later
were so the BAD! Nobody, like, knew why it was the bad--not even the
Hammers knew that--but they knew. So the Hammers, like, weren't the
only ones at a Friday night gangbang at Leigh Ann's house while her
parents were gone.
Sunday was, of course, so the bad because Jeffrey, like, had a date
Sunday with the three bimbos of the Pack for a no-rubbers gangbang. At
first the Pack had been "No WAY!" when Jeffrey asked, for no rubbers,
but Katie Wilson had, like, overheard Trish bitch to Brinkly about his
request and be told, like, "WAY or ELSE! Every vote counts, and I'm not
going to lose by one!" Trish and Katie were both cheerleaders, but
Trish so treated Katie like shit that Katie, like, couldn't wait to
spill about Trish to Hailey.
So, Trish had to, like, crawl back to Jeffrey and apologize and
agree. But Jeffrey had been so the pissed at the way Trish had
dismissed him at first that he, like, made her beg to fuck him before
he'd vote for Brinkly! Was he ever the cool or WHAT? Like, guys that
cool shouldn't ever have to fuck ugly cousins! No way would a horny
Jeffrey have to, like, stoop that low again, not while Hailey Kennedy
was in town!
So, at, like, ten minutes before school started that Monday
morning, the school office, like, got a mysterious call that three
eighth grade girls who hung with Brinkly were spreading the clap.
Fifteen minutes, tops, in the principal's office and the Pack had, like,
'fessed to all! So, now everyone was in an assembly that was called in
so the hurry!
Brinkly and the Pack were suspended for the week and on, like,
probation for another month after that. Jeffrey and Trish's boyfriend
were on, like, a two-day vacation. Well, like, for Jeffrey it was a
vacation. Trish's pickledick boyfriend was a jock who'd, like, taken
too many tackles to his head. Both claimed they didn't have the clap
until they caught it from Trish and the Pack. Nobody, like, discovered
that Jeffrey was already taking the cure! Boys who were saying, like,
"No WAY did I fuck them!" and came up clean, like, weren't going to be
punished. No proof! Best of all, Brinkly was so not the candidate for
Eighth Grade Pres now!
Oh, sure, the bitches had tried to get out of trouble by going,
"Hailey started it!" but that was so not the prob! By the time school
was out today and the Principal had, like, spent the rest of the day
questioning all the names he'd been given, he'd find NO WAY had she
started it because she'd never made any such promises! Anyone who'd
asked her if the rumors were true had been told, "No WAY! You think I'd
buy a vote? That's, like, what Brinkly would do. Vote for whoever you
want, but I, like, hope it's for me!"
Sure, some would go, "I heard the rumor and thought it was true,"
to the principal, but they'd have to admit that they'd, like, never
asked her if it was.
&&& space after ?would go,?
How stupid could that silly bitch be? Didn't that wheelchaired
halfwit, like, know that anyone she approved could so use any hole he
wanted at any time, and that anyone she didn't approve couldn't buy
entrance, not even a handjob, at any price? Cuz had been so the right,
as usual, when she'd explained Brinkly at the rehearsal. The brainless
bimbo's brain had, like, wiped out exactly where Whitney Gwyneth
Kennedy, the other family genius, knew it would!
She supposed she should pay attention to whatev' Principal Peters
was so on the curl about, but she, like, had a bigger problem to
brainwax. Now that she'd, like, paid back that crazy coozie not for
what she'd done to Possum back in the summer, like she'd told Cuz, but
for sabotaging Cuz at Otter Park and trying to sabotage her again in the
Novem talent show, how the hell could she make sure someone else won the
election? She, like, didn't need any silly after-school jobs that would
cut into her party time!
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon nodded absented-mindedly when Sis whispered a correction
to something Principal Peters had said about gonorrhea. She was still
trying to wrap her mind around the fact that Cuz had not only come up
with that plan, she'd actually pulled it off. Cuz! Whitney Gwyneth
"Hailey" Kennedy had done it, and with all the skill that she herself
possessed.
Well, maybe her own skills were no longer all that sharp. What a
frightening thought! Hailey's skills might now be sharper than my own.
How much of Cuz was really thoughtless action and how much of that was
cultivated camouflage? She'd be the first to confess that Cinnamon Anne
Brees sometimes lapsed into the Kennedy family ruthless behaviors under
a camouflage net when it suited her needs, but... Cuz? Party girl Cuz?
And, regrettably, using a disease as a weapon?
But Cuz also knew the truth about Fishhook Cove, too. Not even
Sis, who had tried to stop her, had understood when she ignored Sis's
advice, said, "I'm going in," and eased the throttles forward. She
wished she knew whether she could confide in Cuz about the nightmares
that decision had caused. They weren't getting any better, either. She
desperately needed to talk to someone.
Ron? No, she'd deliberately avoided him and with valid reason.
Kenny? Maybe if she told Kenny what was bothering her, he'd confess
what was bothering him in return, and both of them could heal.
Maybe, however, she'd only make Kenny's problem worse. She'd never
forgive herself if she made him worse. She was having enough problems
because she couldn't forgive herself over Ron's and Suzie's injuries.
The added guilt of making Kenny worse might mark the end of Cinnamon
Brees as everyone else knew her.
Principal Peters finished suddenly. She'd seen him speak too many
times and knew that he'd not reached the end of his prepared notes.
He'd decided to stop for some reason. Maybe if she'd been listening
she'd know why. That's not like me!
He started to dismiss the assembly, but a voice piped up from the
audience. "Principal Peters?"
The oh-so-familiar voice yanked her attention to the eighth grade
section, where one tall brunette was standing and waving her hand. Now
what?
"Yes, Miss Kennedy?"
"May I, like, have permission to, like, say something? It's mostly
to my classmates, but maybe it's, like, a little bit for everyone else,
too."
The principal looked undecided for a moment, but maybe the
undertone in Cuz's voice overrode his better judgment. "Yes, you may."
Murmuring filled the auditorium as Cuz made her way to the stage.
Principal Peters didn't seem disposed to stopping it as long as it
remained low-key. He adjusted the microphone for Hailey and then told
her to speak.
"Uh... Like, I don't know why they said such things about me. They
aren't true, but I, like, feel my running, like, puts a total bogus on
the election. It's, like, so the best if I drop out."
Principal Peters had to step forward to halt the howls of protest.
Then he told Cuz to continue.
"Our election system is so the import! If I, like, win, then it
might look like the lies were true and the election was bought. I
couldn't live with that. So, I, like, resign from the election and,
like, give my vote to Mark Williams!"
It was the moment the lights came on. Cinnamon hadn't been able to
fully reconcile the facts as she understood them with Cuz's statement
that the plan was for the way Brinkly and her Pack had treated Possum
and Jeffrey. She had totally overlooked the obvious to anyone who knew
Cuz the way she did. She felt her round cheeks flooded by warm tears of
guilt over the way she'd treated Cuz as she realized Hailey had done it
all for her.
~ ~ ~
Wynter was helping Jimmy hand out "Griffin's Greatest Girl for
Seventh Grade President" cards and reminding people to vote for Suzie
during the home room polls tomorrow when she spotted Sis One and Huntly
working their way down the crowded hallway. Nobody was outside because
of the snow falling sideways in the strongly-gusting wind.
After everyone exchanged greetings, Cinnamon asked, "Where's our
president?"
Wynter pointed down the hall. Kenny and Finnegan had arranged for
a small platform. Suzie, guarded by Kenny, was standing on it and
promising fewer after-school class fund-raising activities, live
entertainment at class parties, and an end to eighth grade domination of
the student council. "Where's Sis Two? She didn't cut classes after
all, did she?"
Cinnamon's round cheeks pushed upward as she smiled. "She's back
by the door talking to Donnie and LaMarcus. She argued at breakfast,
but Daddy and Rosita put their foots down. Feet down," she corrected,
giving Huntly a warning glare before he could comment. "They said she
wasn't about to miss two tests this afternoon."
"You can't blame her, though," Jimmy said. "I know if it was my
first chance to see my parents after three months..."
He was cut off by a hearty, "What it is, Little Momma? Hey, dudes
and, of course, my fav-o-rite doctor! Hey, gimme one of them cards,
please!"
Everyone greeted Tyrone and commented on the way his shirt was
smothered with buttons and badges for Suzie. You almost had to look at
the sleeves to see what color the shirt was. Cinnamon grabbed a large
one that read "Middleton's My Main Man!" She tilted it to a better
reading angle and shook her head. "Where the heck did you get this
silly thing?"
Tyrone flailed an arm. It came to rest on a horizontal plane, the
extended forefinger aimed at Suzie. "Finnegan's handing them out down
there where she's speaking. Guess you can't see the little tyke 'cause
he's so short."
Huntly laughed. "Ten bucks says you won't call him a 'little tyke'
anywhere within his earshot."
Tyrone gave Huntly a look of disdain. "You think I'm stupid and
would give you a chance to get back some of the money I won in the First
Snow Day pool? Course I won't! Whazzup?"
"Jimbo was talking about Hailey's parents arriving today. Or was
until he was rudely interrupted."
"It ain't no interruption if you be greetin' Little Momma, G! You
must think I'm stupid if you think I'll stand here and ignore her! I'd
be safer telling Finnegan he's too short!"
Jimmy nodded concurrence with that diagnosis. "Tyrone is
exercising common sense and good judgment with regard to Cinnamon. You
should take lessons."
"Aw, man!" Huntly wrapped an arm around Cinnamon's shoulders,
grinned at her, and opened his mouth.
Her mouth was faster. "Don't expect me to argue with my Future
Brother-in-Law when he's right, shithead."
Huntly stared open-mouthed at her, then blinked and shook his
head. "Bitch."
Sis giggled and squeezed against him, looking as happy as she could
possibly be.
~ ~ ~
Wynter wasn't sure she should intrude, but both sisters had
explained that she was family and it was a family gathering and her
presence was mandatory and that was final. She had to admit that she
felt nervous excitement and anticipation at finally getting to meet
Hailey's parents. Unfortunately for Hailey, Doctor Brees and the Future
Mrs. Brees weren't back from DIA with them because of yet another
weather-related accident slowing traffic on the yucky interstate.
They greeted Ghost, unbundled, and put away their outerwear and
school backpacks. Wynter and Cinnamon would study together later,
giving Sis Two some time alone with her parents before the final wedding
rehearsal. Wynter giggled as Hailey's complaints about the outside cold
increased in quantity and volume with every layer she removed in the
warm house.
Hailey finally stopped complaining and grabbed her cell phone
again. Two minutes later she put it away and said, "Ten minutes."
"I'll go drain the swamp," Cinnamon said. "Why don't you start
some hot cocoa for everyone?"
They finished just as Ghost sprang to his feet and raced out of the
kitchen. A moment later the garage door rumbled up. Hailey emulated Ghost.
Sis One slipped an arm around Wynter's waist and squeezed. "I'm so
happy for her."
"Me, too," she said, returning the hug. "And for you, too. You go
on and greet them. I'll pour the cups."
The look in Sis's eyes before she raced out made Wynter's heart
feel too big for her chest. Sis Two was getting to see the parents who
loved her. Sis One was getting to see the only member of her birth
mother's side of the family who loved her, and in less than two days she
would finally have a complete set of parents who loved her.
Wynter busied herself pouring cocoa. Voices suddenly exploded in
the hallway. It sounded like everyone except Ghost was speaking at
once. Or maybe the others were just drowning out Ghost because the
sound grew louder and louder as they moved up the hall. They burst into
the kitchen in a seething mass, like ants swarming out of a
freshly-disturbed hill in Rainbow Meadow.
There was no doubt who Mister Kennedy was. His height, or lack of
it at only five-and-a-half feet, said he was related to Cinnamon and her
birth mother. His face said he was related to them and to Hailey as
well. While Sis Two didn't have much of her mother's facial features,
she definitely had inherited her sparkling gray-green eyes and her
height from that half of her family. Mrs. Kennedy was a good four
inches taller than her husband. However, the looks on their faces said
that Hailey had inherited one thing from both sides of her family: her
smarty-pants genes.
Mister Kennedy immediately activated his by crouching and throwing
his arms out to hold everyone back while making wide eyes at her. He
straightened. One hand moved in a wide, sweeping gesture and made a
futile attempt to smooth back his disarrayed curly brown hair. With
another flourish he licked a fingertip and smoothed an eyebrow.
"Wellll!" he drawled in a deep dramatic voice that most radio announcers
would kill for. "What," he paused just long enough to waggle his
eyebrows twice, the way Ron sometimes did, "have we here? Hmmm?"
Wynter sure could understand why Hailey loved her father. His
impish attitude was more infectious than a staph outbreak. She
contracted the disease immediately. "Doctor Brees is losing his maid,"
she said, holding up the pan of hot milk and spoon. "I'm auditioning
for the job."
Mrs. Kennedy crossed her arms and gave Wynter a penetrating stare.
"I heard you were auditioning for his job at the hospital."
"No, ma'am," she replied. "I want Doctor Taylor's job, so I can be
his boss."
"You want to be his boss and his maid?"
Wynter shrugged. "If I get both, I'll take whichever pays better."
Mrs. Kennedy nodded approvingly. "I so love a woman who knows how
to blackmail! That she's also my newly adopted daughter is a special
bonus."
Cinnamon pointedly cleared her throat. "As the woman of the house
for the next forty-two or three hours, until I can finally give up the
job, I believe the introductions are up to me?"
"Oh, cram it, Cuz! We're all family. Mom, Dad, this is Sis!"
That turned the pandemonium switch back on. Everyone took cups of
cocoa that eventually disappeared, though nobody seemed to stop talking
long enough to sip and swallow. They eventually mobbed sideways into
the family room, where the newcomers gawked in temporary silence at the
current size of Cinnamon's drum kit. Wynter had just enough time to
appreciate that silence before everyone resumed imitating loudspeakers
on overload. After ten or fifteen minutes Doctor Brees, Ghost, and the
Brees-Kennedy girls showed Hailey's parents to their room.
Wynter began gathering cups and saucers. She looked at Mrs.
Vasquez in the relative quiet as the noise ascended the main staircase,
growing less intense from the doors to the side and more so overhead,
and asked, "Well, were they what you expected?"
The Future Mrs. Brees shook her head like she was trying to clear
water from her ears. "Oh, yeah. It's like having three or four of
Hailey at once. Seven or eight when she joins them."
Wynter giggled and started to speak, but she was interrupted by a
loud voice booming down from the gallery. "SIS! LIKE, WHAT THE HECK
ARE YOU STILL DOING DOWN THERE? GET IT UP HERE!"
Mrs. Vasquez grinned up at Hailey, waved for her to join her
family, and then turned the look to Wynter. "You're being paged."
"Uh huh. Are you coming with me?"
She shook her head again. "My ears need a break. It was a long
drive."
~ ~ ~
The first bell rang just as Wynter glanced at the hallway clock.
Everyone grabbed books and binders and headed for class. Three of The
Hargus Four, accompanied by Sis One and Huntly, escorted the fourth,
their candidate, to Mister Shelby's room.
Mister Shelby announced that the sale of cafeteria tokens should
have medical supervision that day in case they were as poisonous as the
menu selections. Wynter realized he was going to appoint her, but at
the last instant she saw a hint of a frown appear when he glanced at
Kenny. After a barely noticeable hesitation he said, "Mister Taylor!"
Kenny must have gone someplace else again, but when she turned her
head to look, he was back to as normal as he ever got and was wearing
his "Patented Shit-Eating Grin." He jumped out of his seat and asked,
"How much do I get to overcharge Huntly today?"
"Well," Mister Shelby said, pretending to think for a moment, "I
owe a payment on my Volvo."
"Aw, man!" Huntly dropped his forehead to his desk.
Mister Shelby smirked. "If you're going to nap in class, you'll
need a sleeping token. Mister Taylor, add that to the cost of the
cafeteria token."
Huntly growled something.
"Mister Taylor, add the cost of a dog license, too."
Wynter laughed with the others, but she couldn't help but wonder if
Mister Shelby and Huntly always worked out their different morning
routines on the phone the night before.
After the day's announcements were over and Kenny had closed the
cash box, Mister Shelby handed out a stack of seventh grade ballots.
Everyone had to mark a choice and then drop the folded ballot into the
slot in a special ballot box. Mister Tillman would collect the boxes
and carry them to the office for counting. Results would be announced
at an assembly immediately before lunch.
Mister Shelby carried the ballot box to Suzie, even though she was
able to use her leg with hardly any pain now. Everyone else had to walk
to Mister Shelby's desk to deposit ballots. Wynter had thought that
Suzie would be nervous or excited or suffering anxiety
disorder--anything except sitting quietly at her desk, reading her
history book as if it were any other day in home room. She sure hoped
that when she got to medical school and after she became an MD, she
could show the same calm grace under pressure that she saw in her friend.
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon told Huntly to save her a seat and stepped out of the
lunch line. She led Ted Muller to a relatively quiet corner and said,
"First, the rule is that you can always ask me any question you want,
and I won't mind as long as you don't mind if I choose not to answer.
Second, her best friend is actually her cousin Possum, but I think I'm
somewhere in her top ten outside her family. Why?"
"Well," Ted said, looking at the floor between them and sounding
apologetic, "I'm new and don't really know anything about..."
"One semester ago, I was in your shoes," she said with a smile. "I
know what it's like. You shouldn't be embarrassed around me for any
reason, but especially for being new."
"Yeah. Well, when I asked Timmy if she was going with anyone, he
got kinda got... I dunno. Nervous, I guess, you know? And he said I
should talk to you before I do anything."
"He's trying to protect her. Most of the school would tell you the
same thing because almost everyone cares about her, even though they
don't know the whole story. All I can tell you is that Snoopy and
Possum both had some very bad experiences that they're still recovering
from. Very bad. I'm trying to help them with that recovery. I think
it would be wonderful if somebody showed an honest interest in her.
"You need to keep two things in mind. One, you may have to take it
very slow with Snoopy. She may reject you at any time, especially if
she feels pressured. If you're getting any sign that she's upset, back
off and try again later. It will actually take less time than if she
gets scared."
"Okay. I think I understand."
She kept her smile firmly in place. "Two, and understand that I
will say this to any guy in the school, if I think you're just trying to
take advantage of her, or that you've deliberately hurt her in any way,
there's no place on this planet you can hide from me. I'll make your
life a living hell."
His eyes widened and he blanched. "Is th-th-that what Timmy meant
when he said I'd better believe anything you said to me?"
She nodded. "Timmy's one of many who'd want first chance at anyone
who hurt her before I got my turn. But as long as you don't hurt or..."
His face turned resolute. "I wouldn't! Cinnamon, I-I-I'd want to
be in that group with Timmy. Honest. I... I like her, you know. I
don't want her hurt by anyone."
She motioned for him to lean forward and whispered, "Come here."
He leaned forward and turned an ear toward her so that she could
whisper into it. She raised a cupped hand, but instead of using it to
hide words, she used it to screen a kiss on his cheek. "As long as you
have her best interests at heart, we're friends. You can never have too
many friends."
~ ~ ~
Suzie saw the way the others at the table were looking at her and
lowered her forkload of stupid chili mac. "Come on!" she said. "You
all look like it's a stupid funeral or something! At least I get to be
Vice President. I'm just glad that someone from the swim team won for
seventh grade."
"Yeah," Kenny grumped. "By one lousy vote."
"I knew I should have voted twice," Huntly said.
Cinnamon's arm that was under the table moved, and Huntly squeaked
in pain. "That doesn't help," she growled.
Suzie was avast. "Cinnamon! Be nice to Huntly. He's not a dolt.
He understands."
The shorter redhead sat up straighter in her chair or something.
She looked at Huntly and then back at Suzie, then Huntly again, and
finally Suzie again. "He," she said, pointing at him with a thumb,
"actually understands something? Mister Smartass? This Huntly? Not
some other Huntly?"
"Aw, man!"
"Sure," Suzie said after she washed the food down with some of her
milk. "He was in sports before he messed up his knee. He knows you
don't always win, so you try harder the next time, but you don't let it
get to you or something because that makes you lose focus. I lost to
Amber my first time at State, but I beat her the next year. I learned
from that stupid little witch, and I'll learn from Larry, too. Next
year, he's toast."
"Oh, I don't know about that," said a voice behind her. "Maybe
I'll win next year, too."
She turned in her chair and smiled at Larry Oligon, who was
standing there holding his tray. "You'll have to work ever so hard to
earn it again, Mister President!"
He smiled back in a way that was ever so warm and friendly. "You
know I wouldn't have it any other way, Coach."
She grinned at him and curled her pointing finger to motion for him
to bend over, and then she gave him a congratulations kiss on his cheek,
the way the girls team sometimes did to swimmers on the boys team at
swim meets. After everyone else congratulated him again, he left for an
empty seat beside Amy Katzmarek.
"Instead of feeling sorry for me because I took the silver instead
of the gold," she said, "you should be happy for both of us or
something." She smiled her congratulations at the still-stunned eighth
grade president at the other end of the table.
"But... But... Like, I so didn't want to win! That's why I,
like, withdrew! This is so the BOGUS! Who the hell ever heard of,
like, write in candidates in a school election anyway?"
~ ~ ~
Every time I convince myself that Mother is wrong about men, Wynter
decided, they do something like this to make me think that she's right.
She glanced at Dragon, who was dozing at his guard post in the doorway
of her room. Maybe I should ask you instead.
She straightened and gave Jimmy and Daddy an exasperated look
worthy of Suzie, then pointed at the dozen drawings on her desk. "I'm
not asking you to decide for me," she reminded them, speaking slowly so
that they had time to grasp the concept. "I'm asking for your opinion
to help me decide. Maybe something you say will help me see something
I've overlooked."
They looked at her, then at each other, and then back at her, each
mumbling something she couldn't understand.
She looked at Jimmy and pointed at a drawing. "You can say this
one," she shifted her eyes to her father's and her finger to another
drawing," and you can say this one, but maybe I'll choose that one," she
pointed at a third choice. "But if I do so, I'll do it knowing that
I've considered all aspects in my diagnosis and decision. You don't
have to have a consensus, and you'd better not choose one because you
think it's the one I want!"
It was amazing how much Jimmy looked like her father. It must
involve Y-chromosomes in general rather than specific hereditary genes.
"DON'T look at each other again! Look at these and tell me which idea
you like best. If it's none of them, fine! I can come up with other
ideas, but you need to tell me what you don't like about these so that I
don't make that mistake again."
They hesitantly looked at the drawings. Each was waiting for the
other to speak first, and maybe then she'd be satisfied and he could
agree if she was happy with what the other had chosen.
"Look, I'm choosing between my ideas, not between the two of you.
And I'm not..." The lights suddenly came on. "Jimmy, remember what
Cinnamon told Jennifer at the rehearsal about not worrying about telling
her what she wanted to hear because what she wanted to hear was the truth?"
Jimmy sighed and seemed to relax a little. But not much.
"Yeah. Okay. I think I like that one best." He pointed. "It
represents her biggest triumph to date. I think it's great to
commemorate that."
"Thank you. Daddy?"
"I like this one better." He pointed but said nothing else.
"That's good. Why?"
She thought he sure looked relieved before saying, "Well, it's for
a formal portrait, and you don't normally do formal portraits of people
in a swim suit."
"But she painted me in a knight's armor for my birthday," Jimmy
said in reminder. "You don't normally see people in armor in formal
portraits today, either."
Daddy thought for a minute, then conceded the point. "Well, if you
do one of her in a swim suit, how about this one? She was on the boat
when she committed her greatest act of heroism."
Jimmy nodded. "Yes, sir, but you know how her parents feel about
her going back out on the boat again. It might remind them of how she
got hurt--almost killed--and make them want to keep her 'safe' on land
unless they're there."
"Or seeing it every day might make them more comfortable with the
idea that it's okay for her to go back on the lake next summer."
"Well... Okay, if that's the case, what about this one..."
Wynter said nothing and made no expressions that might indicate her
thoughts, the way she'd learned from watching Sis conduct brainstorming
meetings. She listened carefully to what each one was saying and filed
his arguments for and against each idea so that she could compare and
contrast them with each other and with the comments Mother had made
earlier. That was easy to do because neither was paying attention to
her. They were talking to each other. She patted herself on the back
for thinking of this plan because she'd already dropped the one she'd
thought she wanted.
Everything was going just perfectly. Too perfectly. Which meant
she shouldn't have been surprised when it happened.
Dragon suddenly leaped to his feet and stared out into the hall.
Someone's at the door. She could always tell from the way he looked and
acted if it was Jimmy, either sister, Suzie, Kenny, or Huntly, but it
wasn't any of them. Well, it wouldn't be either Sis because they were
at the final wedding rehearsal. She glanced at her watch. No, that
should be over. They should be at the Bighorn for dinner now.
The doorbell rang. Jimmy and Daddy paused for a moment, looked to
Dragon, and then resumed discussing the drawings as if there hadn't been
any interruption. Mother, who'd been busy in the kitchen, opened the
door. Dragon's hackles suddenly sprang up.
Uh oh. It wasn't something or someone Dragon liked. Or something
else was wrong.
Mother's voice echoed up the stairs and down the hall. "What the
hell are you three doing here, for piss' sake?"
"Oh, no!" She thought her heart was going to drop out of her chest
and not stop until it reached China. "Daddy?" She looked up at him.
She knew from his face that he'd had the same idea.
"No," he said, sounding more like he was wishing than stating a
fact. "No, it can't be. No way. They wouldn't dare show up without
warning after that last visit."
Jimmy looked puzzled for a second, then realized what she was
thinking. Before he could speak, her greatest fear was confirmed by a
shrill voice screeching, "Shut UP, you IDIOT!"
Chapter 10
Huntly held Cinnamon's coat for her while her Uncle Gerry, arms
gesticulating wildly, continued a rapid-fire story that had begun before
they had risen from the table. The man was harder to shut up than
Kenny, but, unlike Boy Blunder, his stories were never dull and you felt
no desire to shut him up. So far he'd found no reason not to like
either of Hailey's parents. How could he not like them? They were
crazier than he was.
Uncle Gerry spread his hands and drew double-arcs in front of his
face, as if wiping the scene into existence. "So there I was, alone
with Shredder on the platform, the bungee cords attached, looking at the
rocks at the bottom of the cliff and the three hundred faces beyond them
looking up at me, and getting a sudden dose of common sense."
"Sudden rare dose," his wife amended.
"Don't you have a nose to go powder or a broom needing jet fuel,
Voxy Lady? So, I turned around to Shredder, but before I could speak,
he says," Uncle Gerry switched to a burned-out surfer voice, "Hey, like,
this ain't no time to be chicken, man."
Uncle Gerry gave the Doc a sudden look, grinned, and together they
said in high falsettos, "HE'S EVERYWHERE! HE'S EVERYWHERE!"
Huntly froze in putting on his coat. He apparently shared his
ignorance with bitch, wahine, tomorrow's bride, and all of the assorted
bridesmaids and groomsmen with their spouses but two. "Say what?"
Uncle Gerry gave him an incredulous look and pointed an accusatory
finger. "Cinny said you were a fountain of useless entertainment
trivia. Surely my favorite niece, who is almost as wonderful and
gorgeous as I am, wouldn't lie! Besides, it's obvious from listening to
you that you're familiar with the old Batman television series from the
sixties."
"Holy Nick-at-Night, Boy Doctor! Why, so I am! So?"
"Do you know the general premise, or just occasional quotes?"
"Yeah. It was a parody of the superhero shows like Superman."
"Well, after it began, there was a very popular daily series of
three-minute radio skits that spoofed Batman."
"A parody of a parody?"
"Hey! Give the boy a cigar! A chocolate one, of course, since
he's under eighteen. Yeah, it was syndicated everywhere, and some
stations still re-run it today. It was about a clueless doofus much
like yourself who during the week was a shoe salesman at 'a large
downtown department store' and on weekends dedicated himself 'to
striking terrific terror into the hearts of criminals everywhere' in his
crusade against 'crime and/or evil.' The only costume available was
that of a chicken, so he bought it and became The Most Fantastic
Crime-Fighter the World has Ever Known, The Wonderful White-Winged
Weekend Warrior Chickenmaaaaaaaaaaan."
The In-Crowd squealed, "HE'S EVERYWHERE! HE'S EVERYWHERE!"
While Huntly scribbled a mental note to do some internet research
after he got home, Rosita asked, "So what happened with the bungee jump?"
Unc gave her a wild-eyed smile, like Jack Nicholson's as The Joker
in the movie Batman. "Easy as falling off a log," he said in
Nicholson's voice. "Shredder pushed me off backward."
~ ~ ~
Jimmy tried to let Wynter precede him, but she insisted on
descending the narrow staircase while squeezed next to him. They let
Mister King and Dragon go first and then followed with his left hand on
the stair rail, his right arm protectively around her waist.
Mister King reached the bottom, turned right, and said, "Bob.
Diane." He sounded as flat and emotionless as a pancake, much like
Jimmy guessed he had sounded after... well, back then.
Wynter's aunt started to say something, then screeched as Dragon,
hackles still up, turned the corner. "WHAT'S THAT BEAST DOING HERE?
GET HIM AWAY FROM BABY CHRISTOPHER!"
He and Wynter reached bottom, and Jimmy had his first view of Aunt
Dumb and Uncle Bozo. His only prior encounter had been when he'd
telephoned Wynter one day. Her aunt had answered the phone and chewed
him out for calling at lunch, only it was way past the Kings' normal
lunch time. Aunt Diane had gone shopping and didn't bother telling
anyone when she would return. Everyone waited for over an hour, then
finally started without her. That the others were finished had put her
in a bad mood. He guessed it didn't take much to put the woman in a bad
mood.
He glanced at Mrs. King. Apparently all it took to put his Future
Mother-in-Law in a bad mood was the unannounced reappearance of her
older sister and brother-in-law.
His eyes were pulled back to the incredible sight in front of him.
Aunt Diane wore a gaudy flower-print nylon scarf in vivid primary colors
over teased hair held in place by at least a whole can of spray. It
looked like the scarf was covering a light-brownish bowling ball with an
attached face, a face that, if truth be told, wasn't aging gracefully.
Jimmy wasn't sure if the woman's lipstick was dark orange or brown
because it kept changing shade as her lips moved.
She had removed her gloves, revealing medium green nail polish with
a silver star decal centered in the middle of each glued-on fake
nail--centered but oriented at random angles. Her tan calf-length boots
didn't reach the bottom of her red-plaid overcoat with the stained
shoulders where the baby had occasionally spit up. Knobby knees as bad
as Kenny's distorted thick, dark suntan pantyhose.
From what Jimmy knew of two-year-old Baby Christopher, who was
struggling in his mother's smothering arms, it wasn't just the snow suit
and parka that made the toddler look like a baby whale with a bloat problem.
Uncle Bob's hunter's orange baseball cap had tied-up ear flaps.
His matching tasseled scarf was splotched with multiple overlapping
stains reminiscent of his camouflage-patterned brown trenchcoat that
none of the guys in school would be caught dead in. Shiny black leather
gloves looked to be several sizes too large. Or maybe they were just
super-insulated. Wide bell-bottomed pants legs below the coat were a
thin synthetic material in shiny powder blue, and below them were patent
leather shoes in what might be a slightly darker shade of blue. The
shoes were so reflective that Jimmy couldn't be sure of their exact shade.
Both were standing beside suitcases.
"He's not a 'beast,' Aunt Diane," Wynter said. Jimmy thought her
tone was a whole lot like she'd sounded just before she'd exploded at
Cinnamon and Kenny. "I told you before, his name's Dragon, and he's a
Labrador retriever."
"Don't get impudent with your elders, young lady! Who's that?" she
barked.
The latter statement was directed at Mrs. King, but Aunt Diane's
finger was pointed at Jimmy.
Jimmy forced a natural, pleasant smile. "Good evening. I'm Jimmy
McCauley, Ma'am. I'm very pleased to meet you."
"I wasn't talking to you, young man. You mind your manners!
Didn't your parents raise you any better than that? Angela, what's that
strange boy doing coming downstairs from the bedrooms with my niece?
And with their arms around each other!" She turned her attention back
to Jimmy, squinting at him like he was a strange bug, and then
screeched, "McCARVEY? AREN'T YOU THE LITTLE BASTARD WHO ATTACKED HER?"
Mrs. King fought volume with volume. "DIANA, THAT'S ENOUGH!"
Jimmy couldn't tell if Wynter's trembling was rage, laughter,
crying, or some strange combination of emotions. He thought it was very
odd not knowing what she was thinking.
Uncle Bob tried to help. "Honey, I think that he's the boy..."
"This is mother business, you idiot! You don't know anything about
it, so shut up!"
"DIANA ELIZABETH WOLFE PRATT, YOU'RE OUT OF LINE!"
Now he was sure. Wynter was desperately trying not to laugh. Mrs.
King had sounded just like Cinnamon trying to correct Hailey, right down
to the inflection and the Boston accent.
"Aaangela! I'm just trying to protect my niece, since you don't
seem to be willing to do so."
"Your niece, my ass! She's your errand girl, maid, and whipping
post unless you need an excuse to barge in uninvited and meddle. Only
then do you seem to think she's related to you."
"But, she was upstairs with some strange boy..."
"THIS," Mrs. King said, cutting her sister off at the vocal chords
and motioning with her hand for Mister King to move aside. She scooted
around Dragon, whose hackles hadn't lowered, and wrapped her arms around
Jimmy, looking him straight in the eye with a loving smile. "This is
not 'some strange boy.' This is my son, and he's just demonstrated far
more manners than you have."
"SON?"
"If I'm lucky, yes. He and Wynter plan to marry some day. I
certainly hope it happens."
Aunt Diane rolled her eyes and shoved Baby Christopher into Uncle
Bob's arms. "Right. As if that's going to happen. So he's her dirty
little Eddie Thomas. Well, we know what happened between you and him."
Jimmy was shocked but also impressed to discover that Mrs. King
knew a dictionary-ful of words he'd never heard Kenny use. Aunt Diane
had just referred to what her younger sister had written in her diary
about Eddie Thomas. Aunt Diane had used that private diary as blackmail
material that had led to the break-up between the Future Mrs. King and
Eddie. Not that the break-up was a bad thing as far as Jimmy was
concerned because otherwise he wouldn't have Wynter. That was entirely
selfish, and he felt disappointed in himself for thinking it, but it was
also the truth.
"ANGELA! Don't use language like that in front of Baby
Christopher!" Aunt Diane focused a hot glare on her husband. "Well,
cover his ears so he doesn't hear it, you fucking idiot!"
Jimmy suddenly felt sorry for Uncle Bob. He was sure it would pass.
"Honey, he's too big to carry and cover his ears. Do you want me
to set him down?"
"With that savage creature waiting to eat him? What the..."
"Aunt Diane!"
"DIANA!"
Mister King finally spoke in a low, steady voice that reminded
Jimmy of Dragon's warning growl. "Diane, that's enough. The only one
of us possibly in danger from Dragon is you because you always rave like
a mad woman, causing him to think you might be a threat to Wynter. You
calm down and he'll settle down. Bob and Baby Christopher are
completely safe, as is my family, including my son, here. For your
information, Jimmy is family. He's welcome to come and go when he
pleases, whether all of us, part of us, or none of us are at home
because as far as we are concerned, it's his home, too."
While Jimmy wondered which statement had caused the woman's face to
turn purple, Mister King continued. "For your information, he and I
were in Wynter's room, giving her our advice on a painting she's about
to do as a birthday present. I was with them, but that's irrelevant
because they have our complete trust whether Angie and I are home or not."
Aunt Diane snorted, but Mister King gave her no chance to respond.
"Besides, they spent two days alone together trapped in the mine. Jimmy
didn't attack her. The boys who did are dead, just like the guy who
attacked her and her friends in the boat this summer. As Angie and I
have both told you. As Bob just tried to tell you again. But as usual,
you refuse to listen to the facts."
Aunt Diane looked horrified. "Alone together? But they might
have..." She glanced at the toddler or maybe it was Uncle Bob, but
Jimmy was mostly certain it was Baby Christopher. Mostly. "They might
have had s-e-x," she spelled.
"You forget, Aunt Diane," Wynter said in her medical lecture voice,
"President Clinton said that blow jobs aren't sex."
Jimmy thought his face would catch fire from the heat while he
tried not to laugh at the woman's stunned expression. Mrs. King was
trembling with anger at Wynter's thoughtless, horrible comment to her...
well, her thoughtless, horrible aunt, if you wanted to be perfectly
honest about the woman.
Or was she? Something was odd about the way... He looked up into
Mrs. King's eyes. She was trying not to laugh out loud! Great
curiosity suddenly caused him jerk his head around to look at Aunt Diane.
Jimmy was sure he now knew what apoplexy looked like as Aunt Diane
shrieked, "WYNTER!"
That brought the first of Dragon's warning growls.
Mister King kept his voice the same as before, though Jimmy heard
hints that he, too, was trying not to laugh. "What did I say about
upsetting Dragon? Jimmy is here because he is family. You, however,
cost yourselves that privileged status and are guests. Uninvited
guests, as I remember that Angie ordered you out of the house last year
and said not to return without a decade's advance warning. If you're
planning to stay the night, then the ground rules remain the same, but
don't expect us to entertain you tomorrow. We have to attend a wedding,
and afterward Wynter and Jimmy are providing part of the entertainment
at the reception, so we'll be at that, too"
Uncle Bob's eyebrows lifted and he smiled pleasantly. "Well, that
sounds very..."
"SHUT UP!" Aunt Diane shook her head and snorted. "Well, it can't
be a very important wedding if they have children performing instead of
real entertainment. You won't be missing anything if you all stay home
with us."
Mrs. King hugged him tighter. Jimmy thought she should be hugging
Wynter, too, or Wynter instead of him, but he understood that she was
trying to make a subtle point. Unfortunately, he decided, subtle will
fly untouched over that bowling ball that's pretending to be Aunt
Diane's hair.
Mrs. King' voice turned icy cold. "Sis, we won't be missing a
damned thing because we won't be missing the wedding. These are very
good friends who we think the world of."
Aunt Diane frowned for a moment, then threw up her hands in
surrender. "Okay, fine. We have dress clothes. I guess we're going to
a wedding then." She turned her glare to her husband. "Well, don't
just stand there, you idiot! Take the suitcases up to our room!"
"Sis, you aren't invited."
Everyone in the King family was busy with Aunt Diane's newest
explosion. Since Uncle Bob had his hands full because his wife wouldn't
take the toddler back or let him stand on his feet, Jimmy offered to
help with the suitcases. He let Uncle Bob go first in case the
squirming toddler slipped from his father's grip. At first he'd been
surprised that Baby Christopher hadn't been upset by his mother's
yelling, but halfway up the stairs he realized that the poor kid must be
used to it.
The guest room was at the front end of the hall, next to Mister
King's office, which was across the short leg of a reverse "L" from
Wynter's room. Uncle Bob didn't seem to be in any hurry to return
downstairs once the suitcases were on the bed. Jimmy didn't blame the man.
"So, Jimmy," Uncle Bob said in a tone Jimmy already didn't like
after just two words, "Wynter's been giving you... uh... you two engaged
in oral sex in the cave?"
Jimmy didn't much care for the man's sleazy expression, either. He
guessed the best thing to do was tell the truth. Some of the truth.
"Sir, I think Wynter said that because she was mad at your wife and was
trying to shock her. Wynter has really changed a lot in the last year.
If, uh, it's not wrong of me to say so, I think she's becoming much like
her mother." He thought about what he'd said and hastily added, "Not
that it's a bad thing."
"No, I guess it's not," he said, setting the squirming Baby
Christopher on the bed. "But I know she's seen your... equipment." He
made the last word seem like it was coated with oil. Or slime.
Jimmy didn't react. He'd seen Cinnamon--well, Wynter, too trick
people into admitting things by claiming she knew all about them when
she really was only guessing. He must know about that much of the mine,
he thought. "Well, yeah. I mean, yes, sir. We were soaked in that
acid runoff from our fall in that pit, so we had to undress and rinse,
and we couldn't put the contaminated clothing back on because we didn't
have enough water to wash them."
Uncle Bob's look got even smarmier as Jimmy explained the
situation. Too late he realized the man had been unaware of that part
of the adventure. Damn! I've replaced Kenny as the class putz.
"No," said Uncle Bob while the toddler fiddled with the suitcase
latches. "When you were hurt. She'd drawn a picture of your...
injuries." Again he coated his final word with a layer of slime.
Jimmy frowned in confusion, then decided that it was another
trick. "She couldn't have. She never saw anything until we undressed
in the mine, and the bruises were mostly gone away by then."
"If you say so." The man's tone clearly said he didn't believe
Jimmy. Then it turned slimy again. "I guess you liked what you saw of
her, huh?"
Jimmy finally understood that "Uncle Bozo" wasn't a gratuitous
title for this man. Well, I was right about not feeling sorry for him
for long. He tried to sound polite when he said, "Wynter is who she
is. I love her for who she is. Whatever she looks like under her
clothes doesn't matter to me, because what I love is deeper than that.
I love her person, not the skin she's wearing."
"Yeah," Uncle Bob said, sounding uncomfortably like Kenny referring
to some girl like she was a zoology specimen, "but the skin's a pretty
damned nice bonus, isn't it?"
He was again reminding himself not to yell at the man the way he
would at Kenny when Wynter suddenly turned the corner at the top of the
stairs. Dragon was behind her, not leading the way as usual. Because
he's standing guard between her and her lunatic aunt. Well, not
"lunatic", but... Well, yeah. "Lunatic."
"We were just talking about you," Uncle Bob said as Wynter approached.
Jimmy saw where the man's eyes were focused and found it even
harder to hold his temper.
Wynter looked at Jimmy's face and then frowned at her uncle. "So I
see." She crossed her arms over her breasts, but the man simply shifted
his gaze lower. Wynter ignored him and spoke to Jimmy. "I need to call
Sis."
Which meant that the "guests" definitely were staying. Jimmy
nodded, feeling sorry for the four members of the King family who would
be stuck with the "guests" that night.
Uncle Bob's eyes moved back where they belonged. He frowned in
confusion. "Sis?"
Jimmy's eyes flicked to Wynter's door. He must be getting better
at non-verbal communication because Wynter knew what he meant. But, she
usually knew what he was thinking. "Yes," he said as Wynter escaped.
"Cinnamon Brees. Her father's the one getting married tomorrow." He
explained the adoption as sisters. "Didn't you know about that?"
Uncle Bob looked like he was trying to think but had forgotten
how. "The one with the boat? I guess Angie might have mentioned it.
Wynter has so many strange ideas, like that doctor nonsense."
"NONSENSE!" Jimmy made himself stand still, but he couldn't make
his fists unclench. He lowered his voice, but it shook with the effort
of keeping it at normal volume. "Three people are alive today because
of her, and don't forget, she tried to warn your wife about that breast
cancer!"
Uncle Bozo shook his head dismissively. "So, is this Cinnamon as
cute as Wynter?"
Nobody else in the universe was as beautiful as Wynter as far as
James Evan McCauley was concerned, but he knew what Uncle Bozo really
meant. An evil thought occurred to him. "Some people say she's the
prettiest girl in school," he replied, then excused himself and turned
toward Wynter's door. "Wynter, I forgot to tell Cinnamon something! I
need to talk to her after you're finished!"
~ ~ ~
Jimmy guessed he shouldn't have been the least bit surprised when
Mrs. King insisted on kissing her son goodbye when he left. She was
still trying, no doubt still without success, to teach her hard-headed
sister a point. Wynter's father had not only shaken hands, he had given
Jimmy the same kind of hug that Dad gave him when he'd done something
extremely well. Aunt Diane gave him a weak, momentary handshake with
just the tips of her fingers, as if they were a couple of businessmen
who didn't like each other. Uncle Bob gave him a sleazy look and a
hearty handshake and shoulder slap that make him want to wash his hands
and then take a long hot shower before washing his hands again.
Mrs. King had insisted that everyone leave Jimmy alone with Wynter
so that they could say good night. Jimmy thought she would have to
carry her crazy sister down to the family room. But then, with the help
of a growl and some bared teeth from Dragon, he suddenly was alone with
the girl he loved.
"I wish you could go home with me," he said, holding her close.
She sighed. "Yeah. So do I. And I wish I could take Mother and
Daddy and Dragon with us. But I don't want to leave those two alone in
our house, either. Maybe it's a good idea if they go with us to the
wedding, except that I know they'll ruin everything for the Future Mr.
and Mrs. Brees."
Jimmy thought of his phone conversation with Cinnamon while Wynter
had kept Uncle Bob trapped. He guessed he shouldn't be surprised that
Cinnamon knew things he didn't, though she wouldn't tell him what
because they were told to her in confidence. After all, Kenny had
warned him that girls have secrets that they share with each other and
not with boys. And Huntly had said the same thing. Well, okay, so had
Josh. And Timmy. And David. And... Okay, so all the guys had told
him. Now he believed them.
"Jimmy?"
"Huh?"
She smiled, all coral lips and perfect white teeth, and pressed the
tip of her nose to his. "You went someplace else again."
"I'm sorry."
She kissed him, and the rest of the world moved away until they
were alone in the universe. Her beautiful blue-green eyes looked a
little bit sad. "Don't be. I really and truly wish I could go
someplace else, too. Or that Cinnamon and her family could." She
thought for a second. "Oh, no! What if they're still here when Sis One
and Two move in while the Breeses are on their honeymoon and Hailey's
parents have flown back to Antarctica?"
Jimmy understood that she was more concerned about Uncle Bozo than
Aunt Dumb. But he kinda thought he understood what Cinnamon had meant
on the phone, too. "That may not be a problem," he said. When she
frowned, he added, "But I'm not at liberty to discuss that right now.
Confidence."
Wynter pursed her lips and pushed them to one side in thought while
frowning at him. "Yeah," she said after a few moments. She'd guessed
some of his thoughts and understood that she didn't want to know. Not
yet. Not until afterward. Her face relaxed. "Yeah. It may not be a
problem."
He wasn't sure how long their goodbye kiss lasted, but it was that
strange combination of not long enough and forever that he often felt
with her. She was almost breathless when she pulled back and said,
"I'll see you tomorrow. I love you with all my heart."
"I love you, too." She helped him with his coat, boots, knit cap,
scarf, and gloves. He kissed her again, then wished Dragon a good night
before leaving. Dragon seemed almost as appreciative of his attention
as Wynter.
He met Wynter's neighbors, Mister and Mrs. Ginley and Missy Sue,
pulling into their driveway in Mister Ginley's pickup. Mister Ginley
rolled down his window, and Mrs. Ginley waved Missy Sue's little arm at
him. Jimmy exchanged greetings and commented on how much Missy Sue was
growing. Then Mister Ginley pointed at the vehicle in the Kings'
driveway. "Isn't that Angie's family from Nebraska?"
"Yes, sir," Jimmy said. "Unfortunately. Have you met them?"
The young man studied Jimmy's face and then chuckled. "Just her
sister as she was leaving the house one day. She rushed back inside,
then came out again. Before she climbed in the car she yelled at me for
not putting the Aspenleaf Center where it would be easier for her to find."
"WHAT?"
"Yeah," said Mrs. Ginley. "I heard her. I'd tell you what I think
of that woman, but Missy Sue shouldn't hear words like that until she's
my age."
Jimmy laughed. "I think I heard them from Mrs. King tonight.
They, uh, invited themselves to the wedding tomorrow."
"Really?" asked Mrs. Ginley. "Well, do they need someone to
babysit their son? I can do it. I'd do it for Doctor Brees and Rosita,
not for those two."
"I hadn't thought about that. They probably do. But it could be
for four or five hours. From the size of Baby Christopher, you might
need to run to Safeway first and fill the back of your truck with food
for him."
Mister Ginley laughed, then said, "It was snowing back by the
school. We'd better let you hurry and beat it home,"
Jimmy glanced up at the first descending flakes. "Too late now.
But I'll let you go. Missy Sue doesn't need to be sitting there with
all the cold air rushing into your truck."
Mrs. Ginley slapped her husband's leg. "See there? When are you
going to learn to be as considerate as Jimmy?"
It sounded nothing at all like the way Aunt Dumb nagged at Uncle Bozo.
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon, sitting in Aunt Viv's lap, shook her head. "I just hope
you aren't going to be disappointed when you meet her."
"Don't be silly!" Rosita scoffed from Daddy's lap in the recliner.
"She's Angie's sister. How could I be disappointed?"
She turned to look at Uncle Gerry, who was on the couch beside Aunt
Viv, and signalled with a jerk of her head for him to answer because she
didn't want to ruin her good mood by mentioning the bitch herself.
Uncle Gerry stopped trying to bite the ear of the daughter squirming in
his lap and said, "One of my sisters is Gwendolyn. Think about how much
she's like me."
Finally the point found its target. "Oh. I though Angie was just
exaggerating, the way sisters do about each other. You mean she might
have been serious?"
Daddy squeezed her. "According to Richard, she might have made her
sound better than she really is."
Rosita looked over her shoulder at him. "No. I doubt that.
Anyway, Angie's like family to me, and is family to my daughter." She
smiled at Cinnamon. "Her family is my family."
"Hey! Like, there's so gonna be another family divorce!" Cuz
said. "Twenty bucks."
"A hundred," said Cinnamon, "at seven-to-one, and I'm betting the
same way as Cuz."
Rosita frowned at her. "Now I'm worried. I'd be safer playing
poker with Huntly than betting against you."
"Why's that?" asked Aunt Viv. "He seemed like such a nice boy."
"You'll see," Cinnamon said before anyone else could spoil it.
"Maybe tomorrow."
"Oh, yeah!" said Cuz, so thrilled at having her parents with her
that she wasn't thinking. As usual. "Hey, he can, like..."
"WHITNEY GWYNETH, YOU'RE OUT OF LINE!"
"Cinny!" moaned Aunt Viv. "Golly gee, girl! Can't you give me
enough warning to, like, stick my fingers in my ears before you do that?"
Cinnamon snuggled back against her favorite aunt. "Well, how much
warning do you need? You saw Hailey open her mouth."
"Cuz!"
Uncle Gerry squeezed his daughter. "She's got you there, honey,
and you know it."
Daddy looked at the clock. "Well, if we don't get to bed soon,
we're going to sleep through the wedding. With my luck, the license
would expire if we did that, and Rosie would come to her senses and not
renew it or replace it or whatever."
"That's not true," Rosita said, sounding miffed. "You think I'd
pass up the opportunity to tell people Cinnamon was my daughter?"
Daddy gasped in horror. "You're marrying me because of my daughter?"
Uncle Gerry laughed. "Why else would she marry you?"
"I'd marry him," said Aunt Viv.
"You already have a husband, Voxy Lady. Me."
Aunt Viv shrugged. "So? We'll move to Utah."
"Yeah? If so, do I get to marry Rosita, too?"
"You're Gwendolyn's brother, Germy. Rosita so has better taste."
"You married me."
"I'm stupider than Rosita."
"Don't ever change."
Cinnamon listened to the banter and thought about how much they
sounded like Huntly and herself. As happy as she was having Cuz's
parents with her at that moment, she nevertheless felt a pang of
loneliness over Huntly's absence. She still wasn't used to that feeling.
Daddy finally called a halt, and they shuttled off to bed after
Ghost's last trip outside for the night. They all hugged and kissed
good night at the top of the main stairs. Uncle Gerry advised Daddy not
to get too much sleep. "This may be your last chance to enjoy some
unmarried stuff for a very long time."
Cinnamon, and she was sure Cuz as well, hoped that wasn't going to
be true.
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon tossed her dental floss in the trash and rinsed first with
water and then with cinnamon mouthwash. Hailey, who was still flossing
at the other sink, watched her spit out the mouthwash and then pointedly
gazed back and forth between her mouth and her freshly-shaved goodie
box. "Hey! I so can't decide which Cinnamon flavor I like best," she said.
Cinnamon eased her finger into Cuz's juicy slit and toyed with her
button, grinning as the older girl softly moaned with pleasure. "Well,
this month's disruption is finally over, and I'm horny. I could use
some face, so hurry up and I'll help you decide." She withdrew her
finger, licked it with a lascivious grin, and wiggled her round butt as
she left the bathroom.
She scrambled to her warm bed and crawled in. While she waited for
Cuz she went over her plan in her head. Before, she'd never have
considered help from Cuz, but after the incident with Brinkly's Pack,
she was willing to risk it, even if it did involve Sis.
No, she decided, that's wrong, and I need to correct my thinking.
The fact that it's for Sis will make Cuz be even more careful to see
that it succeeds. Thanks to Brinkly I understand that now.
Cuz dashed out of the bathroom and into the closet. She emerged
with a couple of toys. She switched them on and pressed them to her
button, checking the vibration to see if they needed fresh batteries.
Then she turned off the ceiling light, bounced into the bed, and
fastened her lips around one of Cinnamon's nipples while a hand caressed
her goodie box. A toy began buzzing.
She patted Hailey's shoulders to get her attention. "Hold it,
Cuz. There's something more important we need to do before we have fun."
Hailey frowned up at her in the weak light coming in from around
the window curtains. "Like, what could be more important that so
getting off?"
"Sis."
"Oh. Well, like, hey! We can so get off in, like, a couple of
more minutes! So, like, what's the sitch?"
"Remember when Jimmy called? Sis needs our help with that
sleazebag uncle tomorrow, so I have a plan. There's something I know
about him that I've not told you yet."
Her head lifted. She wiggled the finger deep in its snug, wet cave
and asked, "Can I, like, leave this in, or am I going to get so the
pissed that I might, like, accidentally hurt you?"
"You'd better take it out."
She sighed. "I so hate the fucker already."
Chapter 11
Wynter cringed in horror at Aunt Diane's two yucky questions. It
was a warm sunny day, the snow had melted, and everything was perfect
for the Brees wedding. Everything except for the disastrous presence of
Aunt Dumb and Uncle Bozo. She glanced around the church's interior.
Oh, NO! Doctor V had heard and was looking toward them! He gave Wynter
a friendly smile and a nod, then turned his attention back to what his
brother was saying.
Wynter excused herself while Mother struggled to keep her fists at
her sides, gritted her teeth, and quietly explained that "all these
Mexes" were the bride's family, the ones she knew weren't illegals, and
the other four probably weren't, either. Nobody seemed to notice
Wynter's polite "Excuse me" except Daddy, who was reluctantly
introducing Uncle Bob to Doctor and Mrs. Malenkov. He smiled and nodded
to her.
When she reached Doctor V, he asked his brother to pause and beamed
at her the way he always did in the hospital. "Future Doctor King! You
remember my brother Alejandro, don't you?"
"Yes, sir," she said, offering the brother her hand, thankful that
Doctor V didn't seem to be angry with her. "We met at your mother's
funeral."
Mister Vasquez shook hands. He was a plain man of average height
who had a very nice smile. While he didn't look a lot like Doctor V,
there was no doubt that they were brothers. "I'm glad we have much
happier circumstances this time," he said. "So, has Mike convinced you
to become a cardiologist and open a practice with him instead of going
into obstetrics with Mitch?"
Her ponytail lashed as she shook her head. "No, sir. Doctor
Malenkov's been making a better offer for me to go into emergency
medicine with him."
Doctor V moaned. "I'll have to offer her another ten percent of
the clinic. Now I'm down to just twenty percent for myself."
After a few more exchanges she asked if she could speak with Doctor
V privately for a moment, then began to apologize for Aunt Dumb's remarks.
"Wynter, wait," he said. "That's your aunt. It's not you, not
your father, and certainly not your mother. The Kings owe no one here
any apology. Not a single person. All but four of us, I think, know
your parents. Everyone here who doesn't know you personally knows all
about you. Thanks to Joe," he nodded toward Officer Lopez, now entering
with his family, "some of us know about your aunt, too, and you have our
deepest sympathies."
"But what she said..."
"Was just words. Wynter, if I let words bother me, I'd have been
dead years ago from what my patients said to me. Especially from Mrs.
Ferguson after I hit her with a couple of jolts from the defibrillator
last spring. Paint's still peeling from the walls from that day."
Doctor V sure was being polite, but she thought she owed him an
apology anyway.
"Wynter, look at it this way. Suppose your aunt is suffering from
a medical syndrome called..." He thought for a moment.
"Hypertachyorohypoencephalia."
She frowned, pushed her pursed lips aside in thought for a moment,
and then giggled. "You mean her big mouth works faster than her small
brain?"
Doctor V smiled. "Exactly. And you don't owe an apology for that,
any more than if she had a congenital mitral valve prolapse. Uh oh.
Maybe you'd better go, Future Doctor." He pointed. "Looks like Ron
wants to talk to his attending physician. He's... Good grief, will you
look at that!"
Wynter followed his eyes to the door. The Middletons were entering
with the McCauley family. Suzie, holding Jimmy's arm, was moving slowly
because she was ambulatory without her crutches. She looked as
beautiful as Wynter had ever seen her. Suzie's dress was an older,
inexpensive one that she was starting to outgrow, but she looked so
stunning that you wouldn't notice her dress. Wynter guessed she was the
only one besides Mrs. McCauley who noticed how wonderful Jimmy looked.
Wynter excused herself and directed Ron's attention to Suzie with her head.
Ron whistled as she reached the Lopezes. "Holy frijole! I dunno,
Doc. It's possible she looks even better than you do today, not that
you aren't beautiful as always. But I'm surprised her mother let her
out of the house." He waited until Wynter greeted his family and was
next to him and then whispered, "How's it going for her?"
"We're almost finished composing," she replied in her own quiet
whisper. The church had excellent acoustics, and they were afraid
anything louder might carry over the murmur. "We'll start rehearsing
Suzie's Victory next week, but we'll rehearse The Waiting whenever she's
around."
"Uh huh. I suppose Kenny will keep her occupied away from the
rehearsals for you."
"Yes, since she doesn't need to rehearse her part yet. Unless he
gets her mad at him again."
Ron nodded solemnly and sighed with the same exasperation that
Wynter felt. "With Studman, unfortunately, that's always a possibility."
~ ~ ~
Fuck!
Suzie knew she wasn't supposed to think that word in church, but
Wynter's stupid aunt was so exacerbating, or whatever that stupid word
was, that she just couldn't help herself. She knew from the heat that
her face was getting redder by the second, and it was all this stupid
woman's fault.
"Noooo," she said, drawing the word out slowly so that the
stupidest member of the Stupid Squad could have enough stupid time to
understand it. "I'm talking about the first time my leg was sewed up.
Doctor Malenkov sewed it up the second time. Wynter sewed it up the
first time, after she gave me some morphine for the pain."
"WYNTER!" The stupid woman looked like she was about to have
another apple plexy. Or whatever stupid word Jimmy called it when she
had phoned him last night after Cinnamon called. The stupid woman was
so stupid that she didn't seem to notice that most of the people there
stopped talking and were looking at her or something. She shook her
stupid finger in Wynter's face. "Young lady, you shouldn't be playing
with dangerous drugs and sewing on people! You let real doctors
practice medicine and stop this foolishness about you pretending to be a
doctor before you hurt someone! I've told you before, women should
become nurses and leave medicine..."
"OW!"
Now everyone looked at Suzie. She'd was so pissed off or something
that she'd forgotten that she couldn't stamp her right foot. Now her
leg hurt like heck, and that was all that stupid woman's stupid fault,
too! She made herself forget about the stupid pain and everybody else
there except the stupid woman with the stupid hair like a stupid giant
brown egg. The one staring down stupidly at her. The one who actually
made Caroline, her own stupid cow of a sister, look intelligent!
"LOOK! If you don't want to believe me, FINE!" she shouted. She
was ever so mad or something, and she couldn't keep her voice down. She
lifted her left arm and stuck out the pointing finger. "There's Doctor
Malenkov! Ask HIM! Ask him how good Wynter did with Ron's stupid
BULLET WOUND, too! Ask HIM how Wynter did such a good job that it
DIDN'T MATTER which one of us HE treated FIRST! Ask HIM whether Ron and
I would be ALIVE today if WYNTER hadn't BEEN THERE! Ask HIM how HE
would feel about WYNTER treating him in an emergency! Those people over
there?" She pointed at Mister Sanders and Miss Maurer and Mister
Dornbush and Mister Blair. "Those are EMTs! Go ask THEM the same
question! Ask THEM how they'd feel about having WYNTER treat them
instead of DOCTOR MALENKOV! WELL? Don't just STAND THERE! MOVE YOUR
STUPID BUTT AND GO ASK!"
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon leaned against the door frame and clutched it for
support. She couldn't see Suzie or Wynter because of all the taller
people in the way, but the look of horror on the face of Wynter's bitch
of an aunt, the look of embarrassed, frightened worry on Mrs.
Middleton's face, the look of nervous pride on the face of Mister
Middleton, and the look of "Please don't let me laugh out loud!" on
Mom's face was enough.
"Hey! She's so the excellent!" Hailey's words were difficult to
understand through her laughter.
Cinnamon squeezed Cuz's waist. "I keep telling you I learn a lot
from her." She turned her eyes upward. "I love that girl," she said in
a respectful voice. "Please don't let anything else bad happen to
her." She made the sign of the cross.
"That, like, goes for me, too, please." Hailey repeated the
gesture. Then she said, "This is so going to be a day to remember forever."
"No kidding. After this, I'm happier than ever that Rosita wants
to do Wynter's idea here instead of at the reception, and that Father
Vogler agreed."
"Hey! Me, too. It's going to be so the cool! But, shouldn't we
tell Wynter?"
Cinnamon shook her head. "No way. Sis loves surprises."
~ ~ ~
Joe Lopez kept his eyes on Suzie as he leaned toward his number two
son. "Well?"
Ron grinned and scratched his head. "Nine point five."
Joe couldn't tear his eyes away from Suzie for a puzzled look at
Ron. "What? Not a ten?"
"Nah. She's not warmed up yet. The next dumb thing that woman
says should get us another ten performance, though."
"Nine point five it is. Wait one minute! Ladies and gentlemen, the
challenger hasn't learned her lesson and is opening her mouth again."
This time Suzie made no attempt to hold back. When she finished,
Ron grinned at him. "See what I mean?"
"Son," he said as he draped an arm around Ron's shoulders, "they
should allow an eleven for that one. And am I ever glad I'm married to
your mother instead of her."
"Wynter's aunt?"
"Her, too."
~ ~ ~
"What do you think?" Mitch asked from the doorway where the groom's
entourage had assembled to watch the unexpected entertainment.
His best man, Gerry, shook his head. "She's everything you said
she was, Bro," he admitted, "and a beauty to boot. You know, everybody
here's going to remember this day for the rest of their lives. Do you
think they'll remember it was also the day you married Rosita?"
~ ~ ~
Kenny remembered where he was just in time to stop those words.
Instead, he snarled, "It's all your fault for losing your glasses,
Charlie, or I'd have been here in time to see Suzie do it again!"
"Kenneth," said Mom in that quiet, rising inflection that's more
threatening than any other verbal weapon in a mother's arsenal.
"Yes, ma'am," he said meekly as, unseen, he thumped the back of his
little brother's head.
Dad looked at Mom. "You baked her three dozen cookies when she
saved Kenny and screamed at Wilson at the mine, didn't you?"
Mom smiled and nodded. "Chocolate chip. And another three dozen
after those were gone."
Dad looked across the church at Suzie and smiled like he always did
at Wynter. "You go to Safeway after the reception, and you buy every
bag of flour and chocolate chips they have."
~ ~ ~
Wynter felt sorry for Suzie's and Jimmy's parents, but somebody had
to sit beside Aunt Dumb and Uncle Bozo and be miserable. Mother had
reminded the Doofus Duo, as Kenny had named them, that the first pew on
that side was for the groom's family, which they definitely were not.
Aunt Dumb had started to protest that the Kings weren't the Brees's
family either. Mother had shut her up with, "Diane, should I have Suzie
explain it to you?"
Uncle Bob was telling Suzie's dad about a problem financing farm
equipment through a bank in Grand Island. Uncle Bozo wanted him to fix
it. He was oblivious to the fact that the Nebraska bank wasn't
affiliated with the bank where Mister Middleton worked. Aunt Dumb was
explaining why Mrs. McCauley should get a decent job, like her own at
the truck stop cafeteria, instead of loafing around the house all day.
She was oblivious to the fact that Mrs. McCauley was ignoring her. They
weren't just normal oblivious. They were Uncle Bozo and Aunt Dumb
oblivious.
She sure wished that Grandpa Wolfe could be there instead of his
oldest daughter and her husband, but he'd caught a bad cold. Well, she
sure didn't want him to be there and risk having it turn into pneumonia
again. She'd rather suffer with her yucky uncle and aunt than have her
big bear of a grandfather hospitalized again.
Suzie had been given the first-pew seat next to the center aisle,
with her parents behind her. She'd started to argue that she wasn't
family, but Wynter's sisters and Mrs. Kennedy had appeared and told her
to sit where she was told or Kenny and Hailey would put her there.
Cinnamon sat next to the ecstatic Suzie, then Mrs. Kennedy, Hailey,
Wynter, Mother, Daddy, Mrs. Taylor, Doctor Taylor, Charlie, and Kenny.
Each of them was Doctor Brees's family, though Suzie didn't know it
yet. Suzie was going to be thrilled at the reception when...
The groom's entourage emerged then, and everyone in the
church--well, all but one very dumb woman, unfortunately--immediately
fell silent. As handsome as Doctor Brees looked, she thought that just
maybe Hailey's dad had him beat. Sis Two must have had the same
thought, given the way she grabbed Wynter's hand and squeezed.
Nobody could miss the moment the bride appeared at the back of the
sanctuary because of the look on Doctor Brees's face. Well, nobody
except Aunt Dumb, who was still talking. Wynter turned to look and
gasped in delight. She hadn't yet seen the bride in her wedding dress.
Mrs. Vasquez, the Almost-Mrs.-Brees, was radiantly beautiful, the way a
bride should be on her wedding day. Wynter sure hoped she could look at
least half that wonderful for Jimmy at their wedding.
Jimmy, again knowing what she was thinking, turned to look at her
and gave her his special grin-and-nod. "You will," he whispered, making
her heart feel way too big for her chest.
The music swelled as the organ began the processional. People
murmured in delight as the flower girl, one of the bride's young nieces,
grabbed rose petals from her basket and slam-dunked them along the
aisle. The ring bearer, her brother, looked like he was considering
slam-dunking the rings, but he made it to the front without doing so.
The bride, escorted by her father, Mister Santiago, never took her
eyes off the groom until she reached the first row. Then she gave
Wynter, Hailey, Cinnamon, and Suzie looks of pure unadulterated love
before focusing again on her almost-husband.
~ ~ ~
Suzie thought she was going to cry tears of joy or something when
Doctor Brees kissed the new Mrs. Brees. Then she realized she was
crying tears of joy. She hoped ever so much that she didn't ruin the
makeup she'd finally argued her stupid mother into letting her wear.
Father Vogler introduced the newlyweds to the assembly. She
thought the organ would start playing for them to leave, but instead
they moved to one side, and Father Vogler held up his hands to quiet
everyone.
"This is a special day for me," Father Vogler said. He was a small
man, no larger than Hailey's dad, and with snow-white hair, even though
he was only six years older than her dad. "We have two ceremonies to
perform today. While I've had the pleasure to join many couples in holy
matrimony, this second ceremony is a first for me, but it's no less
meaningful. Will the following persons please come forward? Miss
Cinnamon Anne Brees."
Suzie was as confused as all the other people whispering to each
other. Cinnamon gave her an ever so nice smile as she eased around
Suzie's legs and went to stand before Father Vogler.
"Miss Whitney Gwyneth Kennedy."
Hailey also gave her a big, bright smile on her way to stand beside
her cousin.
"Miss Wynter King."
She heard Wynter gasp, then watched her best friend rise and turn
to grin at Jimmy. Well, Jimmy seemed to know what was going on, but
Wynter's parents looked as confused as Suzie felt or something. Wynter
gave her a smile that was as nice as Cinnamon's and Hailey's combined.
But Wynter didn't join her adopted sisters. Instead, she waited in the
aisle, still smiling at Suzie.
"And Miss Suzanne Middleton."
She thought she'd misunderstood until Wynter held out a hand to
her. "Me?" she whispered.
"You," Wynter said, her smile bigger than ever. "I'll help you."
Confused, Suzie stood up. "What's happening? I've not rehearsed
this," she whispered.
"Neither have I. But you'll love it."
Wynter helped her to the stage or the platform or whatever the
stup... whatever the thingy was called, then helped her up to stand by
the others.
Father Vogler held out his left hand, palm up, and nodded at
Cinnamon. She put her hand on the priest's. He nodded at Hailey, and
she put hers on top of Cinnamon's. Wynter's was next, and then hers.
Father Vogler put his warm right hand on top of Suzie's and looked at
the audience.
"Many of you know that Cinnamon, Hailey, and Wynter have adopted
each other as sisters. They love each other as sisters. They cherish
each other as sisters. They respect each other as sisters, and this
adoption has given them much joy and fulfillment in their hearts and in
their lives. But while three was the perfect number for the Holy
Trinity, it is not enough for these sisters, so today they wish to add
one more to their number."
Suzie didn't mean to squeal out loud, but when she realized what
was happening, she wasn't fast enough to stop herself.
Father Vogler gave her a look that was ever so nice. Then he
looked at all the people again. "While this isn't a ceremony that has
been endorsed by the Holy Church, perhaps it is one that should be, for
it embraces the same concepts of love, duty, and commitment as the
marriage ceremony and demonstrates that we are one family."
Father Vogler lowered his head and smiled at Cinnamon, very much
like a father should do. "Cinnamon Anne Brees, do you accept Suzanne
Middleton as your adopted sister, to love, cherish, honor, and support
for the rest of your natural lives?"
"With all my heart, I do."
Father Vogler repeated the question for Hailey and Wynter, who
replied the same way. Then he asked Suzie if she accepted the other
three as her sisters. She was barely able to get the words out, though
she wanted ever so much to shout them for the whole world to hear!
"Then it is my pleasure, my duty, and most assuredly my honor to
name you Adopted Sisters. I challenge you to love, honor, respect, and
cherish each other for as long as you shall live. To their parents, I
challenge you to love, honor, respect, and cherish each of these young
ladies as your own daughters. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus
Sancti, amen."
Suzie hugged her new sisters. She'd have to redo her makeup for
sure now, but she didn't care. And then Father Vogler asked them to
move aside so that the bride and groom could leave.
As the bride and groom went down the aisle, one voice rose above
the organ. "Shut up, you IDIOT! You have no idea what you're talking
about. That was absolutely the silliest thing..."
Suzie's eyebrows slammed together, and she felt the heat from her
glowing face again. The stupid woman saw that and somehow found enough
sense to finally shut up.
~ ~ ~
After everyone had been through the receiving line at the Harbor
Club's ballroom, Angie tried to apologize, but Rosita wouldn't hear it.
Marti, Viv, and Rowena Sheridan agreed that Angie didn't owe anyone a
damned thing.
"Besides, their being here is so her idea," Viv said, indicating
Rosita with a twitch of her head. "Well, hers and my shortest daughter's."
"Cinnamon didn't have to talk me into it," Rosita said
immediately. "I said on Labor Day that I'd like to meet her. And now
I've learned something."
"Sure," agreed Marti. "Always listen to Angie and me, and be
careful what you wish for."
"That, too. But I mean I've learned that the next time I get
married, I should do so in Grand Island so that the truck stop
restaurant where she works can cater because it has much better food."
Rowena glanced at the buffet line. "The quality doesn't seem to be
slowing Bob down."
"Bob doesn't eat at the truck stop," Angie explained. "He eats at
home. He can tell you why Diane is a waitress and not the cook."
Before she could expound, her ditzy sister suddenly appeared, like a
tornado touching down from a clear sky. And with similar aftermath.
Diane pointed. "Marti, what in the world does your husband think
he's doing?"
Everyone looked toward the raised orchestra platform, where the
band had set up the night before. "Keith's checking the tune of his
guitar, Sis," Angie said. "He always makes sure it's in tune before the
band plays. They all check their instruments beforehand because they
don't want to sound like you having one of your fits."
Surprisingly, her crazy sister chose to ignore both the
interruption and the remark. "Why on earth does he have all those kids
in his band?"
At that moment Mitch returned from the men's room. He saw Diane,
blanched, and stopped to speak with his new in-laws, who had arrived
that morning from Tucson. Angie shook her head. Coward. Smart, even
wise on your part, but what a coward you are. How I wish I could join you.
"Oh, it's not Keith's band," Marti said. "Keith has always been a
performer for someone else. When he's in the band, it's Cinnamon's.
When he's not and Wynter is, it's Wynter's. When both are up there,
it's normally Cinnamon's band with Wynter as a guest performer, though
sometimes it's Wynter's band with Keith as a guest performer. Except
Cinnamon isn't playing. Guy Malone is substituting for her, but it's
still Cinnamon's band even though she's not in it, except for when
Wynter's group performs its pieces today. See?"
Angie wasn't really surprised that what would have stopped any
rational person cold, or at least slow her long enough to sort that out,
had been totally without effect on Diana Dipshit.
"You're saying he's not good enough to play with adults, so he has
to play with a kids' band?"
Marti shrugged. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. Oh! They're about
to start."
~ ~ ~
Cinnamon used a hand mike rather than a headset so that she didn't
muss her elegant hair that Huntly said looked so good, it was reason
enough for them to ask if Father Vogler had time for one more marriage
ceremony and would waive the age requirements. "Ladies and gentlemen!"
she said. She waited for the room to settle. "Thank you! Well, the
event we've all been anticipating for months for has finally arrived:
the after-wedding feast and dance!"
The response was okay, but the adults obviously were on just the
first round of champagne.
"The entertainment will begin in a moment, but first a word from
our sponsors, my father and mother." She thought her smile would push
her round cheeks off her face as she said that last word. My mother!
She now had a real, honest-to-God Mother. Not that Wynter's mom hadn't
been a real mother to her. She had. But now she also had a real mother
who lived with her father in their house, like real parents were
supposed to do. Emotion suddenly seized her, and she was glad that she
wasn't required to say anything else for a minute or two. She kissed
her parents and surrendered the microphone long enough for them to say a
few words.
Huntly put a gentle hand on her shoulder and leaned down to whisper
in her ear. "You okay?"
"Finally."
"Good." He squeezed her shoulder and kissed her ear, which was all
he had time to do before she was pulled in front of her parents and
included in their comments. Then they gave the microphone back to her
and returned to the dance floor.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this afternoon you have a mixed group
performing, a mix of both Junior and the Twins and Wynter's still
unnamed group." She waited for the polite laughter at her irritation
over the missing name. "For those who don't know some of them, from
left to right, Wynter King on piano and keyboards! Jimmy McCauley on
keyboards! The best percussionist I know, Dunne High School's Guy
Malone, substituting for your hostess!" She spread her fingers, pressed
them to the bare expanse of her neckline, and suppressed a grin at the
reaction in Uncle Bozo's face. Then, for his benefit, she swept her
fingertips over the swell of her breasts before fanning her hand at
Huntly. "Um... What's your name again?"
"Aw, man!"
When the laughter died she said, "Oh, yes. Huntly Sheridan on lead
guitar! Keith McCauley on rhythm guitar! And the phenomenal bass
player from Tyrone Hayes's Rockin' Mountains CD, which is due out in
just two months, LaMarcus Reed!"
Wynter, sitting at her keyboards next to Jimmy, lost some of her
smile as she saw Uncle Bozo slip away from her parents and her aunt like
he didn't want them to notice. Cinnamon suppressed a grin of
satisfaction. Right on schedule.
"And last, but least only in height, because he's a quarter-inch
shorter than me, operating the sound system and the stage lighting he
designed and built himself, in that back corner over there, the only
truly indispensable member of this group, FINNEGAN BURKE!"
Finnegan's applause wasn't as strong as that for the others.
They'll see! They may have temporarily forgotten Otter Park's lights
and sound, my friend, but they'll see today what you can do when you
have time to design and build. And you will knock their socks off.
"Thank you," said Guy after the applause faded and Cinnamon had
left the stage. He looked tiny surrounded by her main drum kit instead
of the practice kit in the rehearsal room. "The first dance belongs to
the newlyweds, so Mister... I mean, Doctor and Mrs. Brees." He extended
a hand, palm up, and pointed it to the dance floor. "Our first number
is a favorite of the bride and is known by several names in English and
German, but we call it simply The Blue Danube Waltz."
Cinnamon joined her other two sisters off to the side as Wynter's
and Jimmy's synthesizers played the strings and woodwinds to open the
piece. Hailey and Suzie each took a hand and squeezed as she watched
Daddy and Mother capture every eye in the room.
Every eye but two. "Hey!" Cuz whispered when she noticed. "Like,
here he comes."
She couldn't stop smiling and couldn't take her eyes off her
parents as she whispered, "Think he's about ready?"
"Hey! He is so the ready!"
"Oh, yeah," agreed Suzie.
"Let's just let him get an eyeful until after Sis and Jimmy do
their thing. I don't want to miss that."
"Should I, like, let the left one pop out? It's easy enough in
this dress."
"Cuz! I told you. We want him to see just enough to want more.
We want him too horny to think."
Suzie snorted. "He's enough like Kenny that I think he's that way
all the time or something."
"Well, like, when do Sis and Jimmy, like, do it?"
Cinnamon's peripheral vision noted the way Uncle Bozo was circling
toward them as they waited in the spot she'd determined would best suit
her plan. "Ochi Chornya is next because it's Daddy's favorite. He says
Dark Eyes reminds him of Rosita. Another for the audience to dance to,
and then their act, unless I signal her to wait. But I won't have to.
Our fish is already hooked."
~ ~ ~
Oh, NO! Wynter knew she shouldn't be surprised, but there was
yucky Uncle Bozo trying to stare down Cinnamon's dress. Sis One didn't
notice. She guessed Sis was too absorbed in watching her parents
dance. Sis Two was trying to give him a show of her own tits, but Uncle
Bozo was trying to see the little redhead's bigger ones. Suzie sure was
lucky that her dress came up to her neck.
Drat! She'd been so worried about her yucky uncle that she'd
missed a note right there in the middle of Ochi Chornya, Doctor Brees's
favorite song!
That made Jimmy turn his head to look her. He followed her eyes to
her sisters and her uncle. He leaned toward her and whispered, "Ignore
that. The admiral has the conn."
Those were Ron's words from when Cinnamon was first dodging and
then pursuing that drug dealer on the lake. Jimmy was saying that Sis
knew what was going on and was executing a planned course of action.
She gave Jimmy a startled look and received a grin-and-nod.
Jimmy's been keeping secrets from me again! Is this what his phone
call and her having a signal for us to postpone our act is all about?
Well, I decided I didn't want to know, didn't I? If it involves Sis and
one of her plans, I guess it's okay for him to keep secrets. This
time. Just as long as he doesn't make a habit of it.
She relaxed, mostly, and watched the newlyweds fly around the dance
floor as Huntly's pick did its own dance on his guitar strings. Only
two couples from Mrs. Brees's family were now keeping up with the
newlyweds because the beautiful Russian folk melody had kept increasing
in tempo until now Huntly's hand was almost a blur. Everyone else had
either worn out or given up.
And then it ended with a long roll from Guy's felt mallets on a
cymbal. The crowd applauded Huntly as he grinned wildly and made the "I
love you" American Sign Language symbols with his hands overhead.
"Our third number," Guy announced when order had been restored,
"involves the use of these." He stabbed a drumstick at the electronic
drums. "They've never been played in public. They ain't mine, and I'll
be hanged if I'm going to do the first public performance with
Cinnamon's new toy. So, even though I'm the drummer for today, I am not
touching them first. Cymbals Brees! You said you'd always help me if I
needed it. Well, I'm calling in the favor. I can barely manage all
these drums of yours anyway," he said, pointing at her main kit with a
circling drumstick. "I need someone else to handle those electronic
drums, so, get up here, girl!"
Wynter wondered if anyone was applauding harder than Doctor Brees.
She guessed maybe the new Mrs. Brees was, but it was too close to be
sure. She knew she was in third place, though.
Sis still looked startled as she joined them on the platform.
"Here," said Guy, handing her a pair of mallets. "I believe these are
your favorites."
Cinnamon glanced toward the other sisters and Uncle Bozo. "Guy,
I'm not..."
"Never argue with the band leader after you appoint him. Take your
place, or we'll start without you, and it will be your fault if Wynter's
favorite piece is ruined."
Sis knew that it wasn't Wynter's favorite piece, it was more like
number six or seven, but the little redhead didn't argue. She adjusted
the frame to where she wanted it and then nodded, her face in danger of
a smile-induced rupture.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Standing in Motion! Finnegan!" At Guy's
command, Finnegan killed the stage and dance floor lights. Guy counted
the beat. One white spotlight illuminated Wynter as she played the
first long note on the woodwinds and horns, then the second. A red spot
lit Mister McCauley as he added the staccato line of sixteenth-notes
that were the background to the piece.
Wynter's spotlight turned red. A white one lit Sis for the initial
roll, switched off, reappeared while she hammered out the opening, then
died as another lit Jimmy for the introductory strings. Back to Sis for
another phrase on the kettles. Back and forth the white spots jumped,
between Sis, Jimmy, and LaMarcus, as well as Wynter's pizzicato notes on
the strings, sometimes lighting individuals, sometimes pairs or trios
depending on who was playing during the long introduction. Finnegan's
timing was perfect, and he didn't miss any performer. When the festive
main theme finally launched, all the lights came on. Colored spotlights
cycled on and off. Gyrating circles of light swirled on the platform
and the dance floor in time with the music. More lights, including
several lasers, made celebratory fireworks bursts on the curtains behind
the band.
Many people, especially the new Mrs. Brees, stood with mouths open,
making Wynter's heart feel too big for her chest. Maybe now people
would finally appreciate just how much Finnegan contributed to the
bands. Most heads turned to look at him before couples spilled onto the
dance floor.
The bridge was a modified version of the opening, with a return to
the individual white spots, and then back to the party-like main theme.
Huntly had turned toward Sis and was dancing with her as each played.
Mister McCauley and LaMarcus were also dancing in place. Jimmy was
dancing while sitting down. Wynter was surprised to discover that she
was, too.
Truth be told, she'd rather be playing the main theme on the
strings rather than the woodwinds and horns and the pizzicato strings,
but it was Jimmy's turn to play the strings. They always took turns,
and hers had been at the final rehearsal. But she'd always let him play
the main strings if he'd always smile at her the way he was doing now,
his eyes saying he loved her with all his heart.
When it was over, after extending it three times, Guy called
Finnegan to the stage and publicly thanked him for his spectacular
effort. Guy asked for a special round of applause for Finnegan. "Just
imagine what he can do when he finally reaches high school!"
Wynter thought Finnegan got more applause than Sis. Well, that was
fair, and she knew Sis would agree that he should.
While Finnegan returned to his boards, Guy glanced at her, caught
her nod, and announced that the next piece would be Can't Look Back.
She and Jimmy switched their headset microphones to loudspeaker. Guy
had barely finished when Jimmy turned to her, and said, "I'll do the piano."
Wynter frowned. "That's the best part. You got to do the main
theme for Standing in Motion."
Jimmy nodded. "So it's only fair that you do the main theme for
Can't Look Back."
"But the piano is the best part to play. You did the best part of
Standing in Motion."
After a couple of more exchanges, Huntly stepped forward and
indicated them with a jerk of his thumb. "Unlike the Doc and his former
housekeeper, the Future Doc and her scalpel sanitizer aren't married
yet, but they already have this part of marriage honed to perfection."
One shrill voice rose above the laughter. "Oh, for Heaven's sake,
Wynter, stop being so selfish and let him do whatever it is. Stop
thinking about yourself and get on with it so we can go home!"
As Mother's angry "DIANA!" thundered in her ears, Wynter's heart
sank. Trust Aunt Dumb to ruin two weeks of rehearsal. She raised her
eyebrows to Jimmy in a question.
One corner of Jimmy's mouth twitched in a brief grin before he
began ad libbing. "There you go! Good advice straight from the horse's
mouth."
She almost laughed at the way Jimmy paused just long enough before
that last word, like he'd suddenly decided to switch ends of the horse
in mid-sentence. The audience caught it, but she was sure her yucky
Aunt and Uncle had missed it. Aunt Dumb was getting an earful from
Mother, and Uncle Bozo was again getting an eyeful down Cinnamon's low
neckline. "Fine!" she said in an irritated voice, waving a hand at the
Clavinova. "Take your seat."
"That's not necessary," Jimmy said, explaining so the spectators
would understand, "because Finnegan's wired it into the keyboards. Hit
any of these switches," he pointed at the control panels on the three
synthesizers, "and that keyboard can play it from here."
Wynter raised her eyebrows and pushed her pursed lips to one side.
"I seeee," she drawled, sitting at her two keyboards as Jimmy sat at
his. "Okay, Guy. We're ready."
Guy counted the beat, and Jimmy played the introductory chords and
then switched to the underlying pattern of Can't Look Back before Wynter
began the trumpet and sax main theme. Actually, both really and truly
did enjoy the playing the piano part best. Inside the Sky was more
enjoyable and better for what they were about to do, but it wasn't as
obvious to a large audience.
After the first verse, Jimmy looked wildly about. He rose and
spread his hands in confusion as the piano continued. She grinned
sweetly at him as her fingers danced, playing the piano notes. Jimmy
sat in time to switch settings and pick up the theme with the trumpet
and saxophone.
They alternated back and forth between piano and theme. With the
introduction for the final verse, they took turns playing each
individual measure of the piano's part. People stopped dancing to
watch. Then Wynter finished with the piano while Jimmy played the
closing runs and trills of the saxophone. Jimmy couldn't play a
saxophone like Dustin Morgan could, but he sure could fake it using
sampled music on a keyboard and sound almost as good.
Guy had them stand for special recognition. During the applause,
she glanced at her sisters to see their reaction. They were gone! She
spotted them leaving the reception room, Cinnamon holding Uncle Bozo's
hand while Hailey assisted Suzie. And over there was Kenny, now moving
toward the same door at a leisurely pace but in a deliberate manner.
Kenny had been avoiding Suzie almost since the beginning. She was
almost beginning to think they'd been fighting again. Before she kissed
Jimmy, much to the delight of everyone in the audience but one crazy
woman, she took the opportunity to whisper, "Okay, what's going on?"
"Your day's about to get even better," he replied. Then his lips
met hers, and she didn't know how anything could be better than that.
~ ~ ~
Fuck!
Suzie was sitting in the wrong place. While he looked at Cinnamon,
Wynter's stupid uncle was also looking toward her feet. I can't get it
out of my shoe. She couldn't believe how much the stupid dolt looked
like Kenny as his stupid eyes looked at Cinnamon's bare boobies. Maybe
he'd be so distracted, like Kenny, that he wouldn't notice her removing it.
Hailey, standing guard by the door, reached for hers, pulled it
out, and palmed it. She saw Suzie's difficulty and nodded with a wink.
She scooped out her boobies, which wasn't difficult to do in that dress,
but keeping them out was a problem because they weren't very big or
something. "Hey! When you're through with those, you, like, so have
these next."
The dolt looked at Hailey's boobies and said, "You bet!" That gave
Suzie the opportunity to pull it out of her shoe and hide it in her
hand. Then his stupid eyes looked at her. "Aren't you going to get
yours out?" The stupid dolt sounded as disappointed as he looked.
Suzie gave him an evil grin. Naturally the stupid dolt
misunderstood. She said, "I'll wait my turn so I don't distract you
from hers or something."
"Oh. Okay." He squatted down so that his stupid face was inches
from Cinnamon's chest. His stupid hands started to come up, but she
thumped the top of his stupid head with her right hand, the one full of
hidden green. "Unh uh. Look but don't touch, or we put them away."
Suzie heard her dolt's voice outside the door. Hailey's hand
reached behind and grabbed the doorknob. Hailey waited for Kenny to
say, "I'm sure they're here somewhere," and then she turned the knob and
pulled the door open as she walked forward.
"This is for Wynter," Cinnamon said just loud enough for the stupid
dolt to hear. Her left hand grabbed his stupid head and pulled him
face-first into her chest while the right hand dipped down to the breast
pocket of his stupid tan partly-ester leisure suit, then came back empty
an instant later.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!" Aunt Dumb screeched.
She stormed in, grabbed her stupid husband by his stupid collar, and
jerked him to his stupid feet.
While the cousins quickly stuck their boobies away, Kenny closed
the door to the small room and stood guard outside to make sure nobody
else entered. Suzie held up her folded bill. "Your husband promised us
fifty dollars each if we'd show him our boobies."
Hailey held up two fifties. "And another fifty if we'd, like, let
him suck them. Cuz was, like, earning her second fifty when, like, you
so butted in and, like, spoiled everything!"
"WHAT?" If she hadn't been so ever so pissed off at both the
stupid idiots, Suzie would have laughed at the way they spoke together,
both sounding uncredulous or something.
"Yeah," Cinnamon said, sounding mad about being interrupted. "I
think he had more in mind, too, because he has more fifties in that
pocket, although he said he was saving some for Wynter."
"No, I don't!" he said, looking ever so much stupider than ever.
His wife stuck her fingers in the pocket and pulled out all the
folded money. "You have all this, and we came here because you said we
needed to borrow gas money from my sister to get home?"
"WHAT? Diane! I... I don't know where that came from!"
"IT CAME OUT OF YOUR POCKET, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" She slapped him
hard across his stupid face, making him lose his stupid balance. "This
is why we're here? So you can chase sluts? I though you learned your
fucking lesson after I caught you with Melva Perkins!"
Aunt Dumb chased after him, swinging away while he tried to block
her stupid fists or something as he backed up. He tripped over a chair
and fell. She kicked him in the ribs twice before he could get back on
his feet.
Her new sisters sat down in the chairs on each side of her. They
held hands and watched the stupid woman back the stupid dolt around the
small room.
"Hmmm. I don't know," Cinnamon said real quiet-like. "What do you
guys think?"
Hailey shook her head and sounded ever so disappointed. "Hey, I
think she should, like, take lessons from Kenny. Her technique, like,
so sucks the big one. She, like, has no style."
"Yeah. She hasn't kicked him in his stupid nuts or something once."
Uncle Bozo screeched and doubled over.
Suzie shrugged one shoulder. "Okay, so now she has."
Aunt Dumb finally chased the stupid dolt to the door. "Excuse me,"
Suzie said.
Aunt Dumb turned around and snarled like a rapid dog or something,
"What the fuck do you want, you mannerless little loud-mouthed bimbo?"
Suzie held up her folded money and smiled ever so politely. "He
didn't get to see my boobies yet, so I don't think it's fair that I keep
his fifty."
Uncle Bozo yelped as his stupid wife kicked his stupid shins
again. He jerked the door open, showing several people out there being
kept back by Kenny.
Her dolt came into the room as the fight raced down the hall. He
was laughing so hard he could barely stand up. "Man, I wish I'd been in
here to see everything."
Suzie kissed him, which, because of the way he was laughing, wasn't
as easy to do as it sounded, even if it was Always Horny Kenny. "You've
already seen all the boobies in here," she said in a not-all-that-fake
irritated voice. "Remember?"
"No, I mean the fight. It sounded hilarious out there!"
"It was," Cinnamon said, "but Uncle Bozo didn't seem to think it
was very funny. I guess he doesn't have a sense of humor. But maybe
now he'll stop fondling Wynter against her will."
Suzie offered the money back to Cinnamon. "Here."
Cinnamon flipped a hand. "Keep it. You earned it."
"I'm your sister," she reminded the other redhead. "You don't have
to pay me. Of course, you never did have to."
"It's a present, then," she said as the three of them helped her to
her feet.
She thought for a moment. "Well, since Wynter missed all the fun,
I guess I can use it to buy her a gift or something."
"Hey!" Hailey was still laughing so hard she was having trouble
talking. "Do you think, like, you can get anything so the better than
having those two out of her house?
Suzie thought about that and then shrugged. "Not really."
(Continued in Part 2)
Copyright Russell Hoisington 2009
************************************************************
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Russell Hoisington
State of Confusion
--
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