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Subject: {ASSM} Once More With Feelings - Chapter 28 NEW! {Night Hawk} (ff, mff. mFF, Time Travel, Rom, Con, Sci-Fi)
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Date: Sun,  5 Jun 2005 15:10:05 -0400
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"Once More With Feelings"
A new story by Night Hawk
(C) 2004/2005 by Night Hawk
Chapter 28: It's Yesterday Once More
____________________________________
          Thursday morning at breakfast, more than a few of us were wearing 
smiles.  Julie blushed every time I looked at her and grinned, and Annette 
and Mandy weren't exactly pale of face either.  It was Krissy who cracked us 
up, though, when she announced rather loudly she needed to go shopping for 
batteries!  Thankfully, Sister Gabe didn't question why!
            A regular school bus picked us up at the Royal York, and in less 
time than I thought possible in Toronto traffic, deposited us at the Royal 
Ontario Museum.  I had been there before, but had never seen it with the 
appreciation experienced through my new eyes.  Here in front of me, and all 
around me, were reminders of lives lived before.  I was truly dumbstruck. 
The history was a living testament to accomplishments by people who had done 
something with their lives, and an even bigger reminder of how short life 
really is.  I had already wasted four decades once, while in less time, 
others had made history.  Painters, sculptors, explorers, and men of 
medicine - each had made an indelible mark with the time they had been 
given.  What would I do now with my life?  I wasn't looking for fame or 
glory; I just didn't want to squander this life as I had my first one.
            I wandered around for a bit, finally parking myself on a bench 
to think about my life that was, the life I had now, and trying to decide 
what I would do with my second chance.  Wendy, understanding as ever, took 
Krissy by the hand and explored with her.  This was Wendy's first time here, 
and as much as I wanted her firsts to be with me, I was simply overwhelmed. 
Sister Gabe allowed me to sit while my teammates wandered the halls.  I know 
my excuse of too much breakfast didn't hold water with her, but I was 
grateful she allowed me my moment of introspect and reflection.  It was 
true.  I had made some changes to the lives of others as Annette kept 
reminding me, and in a roundabout way, I had changed the living history of 
St. Ursula's, but was that going to be my only legacy?
            Julie joined me after about an hour.  "I figured you've had 
enough time to relive your past," she said.
            I looked at her in surprise.  "How did you know what I was 
thinking?"
            Julie put her arm around me and said, "It's not hard, 
Sweetheart.  You're involved in nearly everything.  It's like you want to 
live two lives to make up for one, but you have to remember that you are 
only one person, and a young one at that.  Remember, it's now that's 
important, not what was.  Your time for making your mark on the world will 
come when you get a bit older."
            "But that's just it," I said.  "I don't know what kind of mark I 
want to leave.  I don't really know what I want to do with my life."
            "Why not just continue doing what you've been doing all along?" 
Julie asked.  "It seems to me that you've been making some pretty good 
decisions as situations come up.  Do you think Michelangelo started with the 
Sistine Chapel?"
            That made me laugh.  The idea of tackling something that huge 
without prior experience or practice would drive a person insane.
            "You see, Patti, you've got to start off walking before you can 
run.  And you learn to walk by taking small steps, one at a time, just one 
foot in front of the other.  Don't rush through this life.  Enjoy it!  Maybe 
you won't even know when the moment is upon you until you're faced with the 
opportunity.  Have some faith in yourself!"
            I hugged Julie, my eyes moist with unshed tears.  "Thanks, 
Julie," I whispered.  "You'll make a great doctor!"
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            We stopped at a little Greek restaurant on Spadina before 
heading on to the Science Center.  No fast food for this group!  We had a 
great meal of a variety of Middle East delicacies.  Not too much of any one 
thing, but enough of everything to satisfy our hunger.  The owner insisted 
on having a picture taken of us in his restaurant, which quite frankly 
befuddled us until he showed us a copy of Friday's Sun.  Now the Toronto Sun 
is and always was a tabloid magazine.  No in-depth writing or great 
literature, but they were the largest selling and most popular paper in the 
Toronto region.  On the front page of the sports section was a half-page 
picture of us with our hair all gelled for the final game in the London City 
Tournament.  We had our picture taken with the owner and his wife then of 
course rushed off to grab copies of the paper for ourselves.
            Not surprisingly, it was Jim Blake, who had provided the Sun 
with scores of all our games and a history behind the team.  He even shared 
rumored hints of a bet to benefit the Sick Children's Hospital.  And of 
course Jim shared the byline.  Jim explained the reason for our short 
haircuts, which led to the funky hairstyles, and he speculated about our 
unmatched winning streak so far this season.  The local sports editor and 
his staff had listed all the teams we would be playing and their records for 
the year.
            Later, on reading the records of those teams we would be facing 
in the Regionals, I noticed something, which I pointed out to Annette. 
Nearly every one of those teams had only two or three strong scorers, 
whereas our team usually had an even spread of points across our front row. 
She grinned at me, saying, "So all we have to do is see what number they're 
wearing eh?"
            On paper we looked unstoppable against the other teams, but on 
the bus, Sister Gabe reminded us a single match loss would be the end of our 
unbeaten streak, even if we did go on to win.  She took the opportunity to 
remind us that we needed to concentrate on our game when we took to the 
court tomorrow, then smiled and said how very proud she was of all of us.
            Arriving at the Science Center, one of the best in the world, 
especially for hands-on experiments and play, I was back to my old self and 
literally ran with Wendy through the rooms of 'tomorrow,' Julie trailing 
along behind, laughing.
            While the other girls were busy playing with mirrors and magnets 
and static electricity, I had a great time showing Wendy and Julie some of 
the gadgets predicted to become popular in the next few decades.  I was a 
bit surprised at how accurate some of them were and how commonplace they 
would become, but I had first-hand knowledge of the changes in the 
technology and shared a few laughs with Julie and Wendy as I explained them. 
The VCR had already been invented, but it was only for the very rich, and I 
laughed at the prediction that BetaMax would eventually dominate the market. 
Julie couldn't believe that in 30 years, you wouldn't be able to find a Beta 
player except in a museum, or that a VCR would cost less than a good meal 
out for two.  I had always been a firm believer that the public would buy 
anything as long as it had an acronym for a name.  It made it sound more 
important than it really was.
            The joys of knowing that CDs would replace records and that 
piracy of music would become the largest pastime for most kids our age made 
Julie laugh.  I told her about the portable MP3 players and how you could 
easily fit 100 songs on a single disc.  How records and tapes would become 
ancient history to be replaced by the silver discs read by laser light. 
When I told her that movies would also end up being on discs she scoffed at 
the notion, but I told her to just wait and see!
            The television room was the greatest fun as scientists had 
predicted flat-screen TVs for all rooms in the house.  I told her that at 
the time I was returned, these units were available but for prices out of 
this world, though I did tell her that B&W TVs would become obsolete in just 
a few more years, and a 20-inch color TV was fit only for the bedroom.  The 
cell phones were the funniest of all as they were shown in something the 
size of a man's shoe!  Predictions were made that, by the year 2000, they 
would be small enough to fit on a wristwatch, but I quickly dispelled that 
notion.  I told them that the phones would be smaller than what Captain Kirk 
used on Star Trek, and you could send text messages as well as play games on 
them.  More relevant would be the changes to regular house phones with toys 
like call display, three-way calling, and call forwarding, then I realized 
that answering machines hadn't even hit the market yet!
            Julie brought some reality down on my shoulders though when she 
said that all these great advances would be commonplace when she was in her 
Fifties!
            I assured her that with a proper diet and exercise, 50 was 
barely middle age, and there were a lot of very active and powerful women in 
the 21st century of that age.  "Fifty isn't old, Julie," I said.  "You 
really are only as old as you feel and act!"
            All too soon we had to leave the Ontario Science Center and 
return to the York.  We had supper in one of the many restaurants in the 
hotel.  The one we chose was as much a show as it was a meal.  We sat on 
pillows around a big table that had a grill right in the middle, and a 
Japanese chef juggled and flipped knives that were sharp enough to split 
hairs.  We laughed as he flipped small portions right on to our plates, and 
we gave him an ovation when he was done.  Meat, sliced paper-thin, is a 
delicacy that few people truly appreciate.  Cooked for mere seconds, it 
melts in your mouth, and the beef was of an excellent quality.  I don't know 
who paid for this extravagance for us, but I wished that Linda and Einstein 
could have been there to join us for it.
            Sister Gabe surprised us yet again after the meal saying that a 
donor in Toronto, who wished to remain anonymous, had read the story in the 
Sun about our good deeds and donations to the Sick Children's Hospital and 
arranged for us all to catch a live performance of The Canadian Show or 
Upper US: the 48th revue.
            Julie and Wendy couldn't begin to understand my excitement.  We 
were going to go to the old Fire Hall on Adelaide to watch John Candy, Gilda 
Radner, Dan Ackroyd, and Eugene Levy!  This was the place where Saturday 
Night Live was really born!  Bill Murray got his start here, as did Betty 
Thomas and John Belushi.  I was reading this in the paper and was just so 
excited.  Not only was I going to get to see them all before they became 
famous, but so many had died in the last years of my own life.  I tried to 
explain to Wendy and Julie this was like watching the Beatles join together 
and play in Hamburg, Germany, when they still had Pete Best on drums and 
Stuart Sutcliffe was still pretending to play bass.
            "Imagine seeing the Beatles in 1957, six years before they 
became famous!"  I said.  This was something they could relate to, and I 
told them that in just another year or so, they would get to see most of the 
comedians we would see tonight on television on a weekly basis.
            The play itself was nothing special, just another series of 
skits thrown together by some talented comedians, but while the team loved 
it, I was amazed at the pure, raw talent of these people, who in future 
years I had grown to love watching.  It was a late night before we got back 
to the Royal York, and under strict rule of Sister Gabe, it was bedtime and 
lights out.  Wendy and I found the peace and solitude a pleasant change 
after the hectic day.  We set one of the chairs in the room to face the 
window and opened it as much as we could to let the sounds of the city enter 
in.  We hugged and we snuggled, with Wendy in my lap as usual, and I kissed 
the soft nape of her neck till she became so aroused we consummated our 
passion.
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            Friday morning it was a light breakfast of fruit juices and 
bagels.  New York can claim to have the best bagels in the world, but for 
those of us in the know, Toronto is the place for bagels!  Cinnamon and 
raisin bagels cut and fried in butter, cheese bagels, onion and garlic, and 
literally slathered with cream cheese!  Whatever flavor you wanted, they had 
it.  After breakfast, we dressed in our Sunday uniforms and boarded the bus 
for the University of Toronto.
            Okay, Western U is big, but it was nothing compared to the 
University of Toronto.  Where the UWO had large wide-open spaces, UT was 
crammed tight with buildings older than most of Canada.  You could see it in 
the woodwork.  Much of it oak and maple, and all hand carved.  We crossed 
King's Circle on foot with our bags over our shoulders, conspicuous in our 
Sunday uniforms.  This campus was packed!  If not for our self-confidence in 
our game, we would have probably felt very much out of place in our little 
schoolgirl uniforms at a time when most of the country was walking around in 
blue jeans.  The advantage it had was that the photographers easily spotted 
us, and we kept smiles on our faces for the media right up till we got to 
the dressing room reserved for us.  We carefully folded and hung our 
uniforms up and changed into our suits.  It was a moment of decision. 
Should we do our hair up now before the first whistle blew or wait for the 
third and final game of the Provincials?
            We had plenty of time before the first game started and were 
discussing the pros and cons of both options when the door opened and Linda 
walked in.
            Julie jumped up and gave Linda a big hug and kiss right in front 
of everybody including Sister Gabe!
            "What are you doing here, Sweetheart?" asked Julie.
            Linda laughed and said that Robert was not to be put off.  He 
had the Saints' bus plus four other coaches filled with parents and friends 
of the Saints and had driven them all free of charge, although they took 
donations for the Sick Children's hospital.  He had managed to collect over 
$5,000 on this trip, just for a chance to cheer us on.
            Linda told of how parents and members of the Alumnae had 
gathered at the school at seven in the morning for the two-and-a-half hour 
trip.  Unlike the Regionals, there was an admission fee for this event, and 
Robert had booked an entire section of seats for Saints supporters.  Many 
parents and friends had taken the Friday off so they could be there to cheer 
us on and lend moral support.  Then she opened the bag she had brought in 
with her and pulled out bottles of some bluish black liquid, jars of stage 
make-up, and a hand written note from Einstein.
            "Peppermint," it said.  "Never repeat what can be improved on. 
Remember Robert Palmer?  With the help of Ann and Rita and Linda, we came up 
with something totally different.  It's food color mixed in with a compound 
of jells that will give you stiff hair and you can all be, 'Simply 
Irresistible.'
            We tested the product under hot, sweaty conditions, and the 
color won't run, and the wet look won't dry or be as hard to remove as the 
'Dippity-Do' was.
            Keep them guessing!
            Einstein."
            Of course I remembered Robert Palmer's video with his back-up 
group of identical female guitar players.  They all looked alike in their 
red leather mini dresses and slicked back black hair.  It had been a great 
fantasy in the late 80's.  So, maybe we would inspire him earlier, or we 
would just take the idea and run with it.  I liked the idea that we could do 
something different, and especially that we could just shower it out 
afterwards.  Leave it to Einstein to know what would be on my mind.
            I tried to explain to the rest of the team the change in 
strategy.  "They'll all be expecting us to repeat the spiked gold look," I 
said.  "This will catch them totally off guard, and win or lose, I guarantee 
we will make all the papers with this!"
            Annette and Mandy were of course my first volunteers and we 
wrapped towels around their necks to prevent the color from landing on the 
uniforms.  If we made it to the second or third rounds, we could take the 
time to shower and change into fresh uniforms later.  In the bag was also a 
spray bottle to help wet our hair, and with Wendy's help we soon had Annette 
and Mandy's hair wet enough so that we could liberally apply the solution. 
Using the fine toothed combs in the bag, we combed their hair straight back, 
and I was shocked by the result.  Annette's blonde hair was now a rich shiny 
jet black, and stiff enough to bounce balloons off of.  Mandy soon looked 
the same, and the other girls were then helping themselves to the solution 
and putting it on each other.  Annette was so easy going, and as she led, 
Mandy followed.  The other girls followed their captain, though why she ever 
listened to my advice, which by any definition was way out in left field, 
was a mystery to me.  Sister Gabe looked at us all and just smiled.
            The makeup in the bag turned out to be our school colors, and 
with a bit of help from Linda and Julie, we all had a brush mark on each 
cheek with matching colors.  A bigger surprise was yet to be revealed when 
Linda said that Ann had suggested we darken our eyelids with a charcoal 
powder and use the enclosed black eye liner to deepen the impression.  By 
the time we were finished applying all the tricks, we just had time to slip 
our tracksuits over our gym suits and we literally marched on to the playing 
floor with only minutes to spare!
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            One of the advantages in looking similar was that the first team 
we played had trouble telling us apart, so they couldn't easily look for 
weakness in one player and concentrate their efforts on her, but we had 
worked long and hard to get to this point and we utilized every trick in our 
books to win swiftly and decisively.
            Our first match up was over in two sets, increasing our no-loss 
streak to 23.
            For the next match, Annette insisted we use no fancy tricks - 
just play it straight like the team had before our new moves were 
introduced.  This so flustered the opposing team from Hamilton, that all 
their strategies for beating the Saints were a waste of practice.  It was 
another two-set win.  One more match and we would take the Provincial title!
            I know it all sounds so easy, the way the Saints overwhelmed so 
many teams, but we had the advantage of using moves that on another timeline 
would not have been devised or used until the 90's.  On top of that, we had 
a very spirited team that really got along, and we had an advantage of 
living where we learned, which gave us much more time in the gym for 
practice.  Not having to share the gym with any boys' teams was also a big 
boost, and up till this point, St. Ursula's had never been a sports school. 
Hell.  Phys-Ed wasn't even an option on the curriculum!  It was March 7th, 
1975.  We were playing the best teams in Ontario.  In 1975, the population 
of Canada, which was barely 105 years old, was 23 million; over a third of 
it lived in Ontario.  We had our share of easy wins, but it came from 
practice, tricks, and more practice.  I knew from this day forward, girl's 
volleyball would never be seen the same way again, and also that Canada 
would be putting up one hell of a team for the 1976 Olympics.  It also 
dawned on me that Annette, Mandy, and Krissy might very well be on that 
team.  Hmmm. another nudge to the new history line!
            The last team we had to play for the Provincial title was the 
girls of Sir John A MacDonald Secondary out of Ottawa.  They had managed an 
upset win over the Toronto entry - and tournament favorite - in the second 
match.
            The girls of Sir John A MacDonald were not about to give up 
their chance for a shot at the National Title quite so easily.  Between our 
two teams, we were the best the province had.  Regretfully, only one of us 
would move on to the Nationals - and the Saints were not going to let anyone 
stand in their way.
            When we headed back onto the court for the final game, the arena 
had been staged with only one net, and we could hear our cheering section 
shouting out encouragement.  During our break we had showered, rested, and 
rinsed the gel from our hair.  This last match was going to be played 
straight from the heart.  Every girl on the team knew what was on the line. 
In fresh uniforms we stampeded into the battleground, adrenaline pumping, 
and our war whoops causing a wave of excitement to go through the stands. 
Banners proclaiming "Go Saints" were distributed through the exceptionally 
large crowd from London.  The lighting made it nearly impossible to make out 
faces in the stands, but we could hear where they were, and the banners just 
added fuel to our passion.  This match was for Sister Gabe, Sister 
Elizabeth, and all the nuns and girls back at the school.  We had never 
anticipated making it this far, and now we were just one school away from 
going to the Nationals.  Even the Sick Children's Hospital, which would 
benefit most from our win, was a secondary issue now.  We could taste 
victory and we smelled blood.  Like sharks circling the prey, we ran a few 
laps around the floor trying to build on the energy inside.  We had played 
three weeks of tournaments to get here.  We were in shape and out for the 
kill.
            Mandy's first serve seemed to float in slow motion as it crossed 
the net where it was received, lofted, and moved to a player who spiked it 
down.  Down, right into the waiting arms of Annette, who gently lifted it to 
me.  I saw no clear opening and passed it back to Annette, who jumped higher 
than I had ever seen her jump before.  My pass to her was just marginally 
inside our side of the net, and when Annette hit it, the resounding thwack 
as it shot into the Sir John's open spot and bounced off the floor raised 
cheers from all around.  Her strike had such force behind it that the 
ricochet off the floor sent it sailing into the stands!  That set the tempo 
for the game.
              It was a long game.  While we kept the upper hand, our 
opponents managed to keep us blocked for many of our attempts to spike. 
More than a few times, we actually had to volley the ball back or risk a 
penalty for too many touches on the ball on our side.  The first game ended 
25 - 9, and we had a short breather.  Damn.  These girls were good.  If not 
for the Saints, they probably would have been this year's National champs. 
But. we were here, through fate or through the grace or design of the 
Goddess, and we were going to win the next game.
            For a non-contact sport, the crowd seemed to roar, reminding me 
of soccer matches in Europe.  In Canada, this level of excitement was 
usually reserved for hockey and CFL football.  I knew Sister Elizabeth was 
in the stands somewhere, as was Father Ed.  I'm not sure why they didn't 
come to sit by the players' bench, but it may have been they were afraid of 
breaking the spell.  While both had been staunch supporters of our efforts, 
with Sister Elizabeth turning a blind eye to some of our stranger antics, 
they had allowed the team to grow together as a cohesive unit, never 
interfering with the way we practiced or played.  The team had a good 
captain in Annette.  She was perfectly suited to the role and always 
agreeable to trying the new and crazy suggestions of even a junior player 
without question.  I didn't want to take her place, and I think she realized 
this, but I seemed to be effective at guiding people, something I had never 
been able to do before.  Perhaps it was knowing that life was not 
indefinite, and I was more apt to enjoy the moment, but I knew that I was 
confident that what I was doing was right.  While there were some things I 
could not legally do yet, like drive, I was in no rush to grow up.  I didn't 
mind the homework or school.  I had had it much more difficult working for a 
living, and I knew I would not make the same mistakes twice.  The first time 
I had been impatient to grow up.  Now I was content to live every day to the 
fullest.
            I didn't start in the second game, nor did Krissy.  We were 
content to wait our rotation in when Annette called for us.  And Annette 
played!  You'd think she was giving out volleyballs as souvenirs the way she 
kept pounding them into the floor and bouncing them into the stands, and for 
each one that reached the seats, the crowd just screamed more encouragement. 
The Saints were up 10 - zip when Annette rotated herself off to a standing 
ovation.  Nine of those points had been hers, and nine balls were now 
historical souvenirs of the day the Saints won their first Provincial title. 
Final score was 25 - 1!
            The crowd went nuts!  We barely had time to shake hands with the 
players of Sir John A's before people broke through the barriers and mobbed 
us.  Oz came flying down and jumped on Krissy.  Einstein wasted no time 
himself getting down to the floor and gave both Wendy and I big kisses, 
hugging us both, and crying with us.  After such an emotional day, we couldn't 
hold it in any longer.  Suddenly we were exhausted.  I saw Linda and Julie 
out of the corner of my eye, and a slight nod from Linda was all I needed to 
know that the parents had made it to the court.  Einstein quickly wiped his 
eyes, and released his hold on us.  Mike and Ann, followed closely by Tom 
and Rita, were over hugging us and congratulating us.  Bob and Hilda scooped 
up Annette and Mandy.  Soon the arena floor was filled with parents, 
friends, and reporters.
            I could see Jim Blake as he elbowed his way to the front of the 
crowd.  Mike saw him as well and helped push people aside to let him 
through.  He was plenty excited!
            "I just got off the phone with Jane Bigelow," he said 
breathlessly.
             Wendy said, "Who?"
             Ann smiled and put her arm around her.  "The Mayor of London, 
Sweetheart," she explained.
             Wendy looked surprised.  "We have a woman Mayor?" she asked.
             I laughed, remembering a recent conversation with the team 
about Sylvia Ostry being appointed the first female Deputy Minister of 
Canada.  Things were looking up for women in politics in Canada.  Though I 
remembered that Canada's only female Prime Minister, Kim Campbell, had not 
been voted in but had succeeded Brian Mulroney, and six months later she had 
been so roundly defeated in the general election that the party nearly lost 
its official standing, placing a disappointing fourth behind the Liberals, 
the Bloc Quebecois, and the Reform party.  I shrugged.  That was that life - 
this was now.
              Jim had continued speaking and I heard something about the 
Mayor declaring March 7 to the 14th as London Saints week.  I had to shake 
my head.  I was sure I heard that wrong.  I looked at Jim, who was grinning 
from ear to ear.  "When did you talk to the Mayor?"  I asked.  "The game 
only ended ten minutes ago, you couldn't have gotten to a phone, had that 
conversation, and back here that quick!"
              He just smiled then said he had called the Mayor - who it 
turned out had been watching our progress for the past month - between the 
two games.  She had told him then, if we won the Provincials, this was the 
declaration she would make.  It was perfect timing on her part as well since 
the Nationals were to be held on the 13th and 14th.
            An excited Annette grabbed me by the arm.  "Did you hear?" she 
asked.
            I looked at Jim who just shrugged.  "I had to tell Bob," he said 
as a way of explanation.
            I smiled at Annette.  "Just don't you be getting a swelled head 
and start thinking this gets you out of track," I said.
            Annette laughed and hugged me, then hugged Wendy and then hugged 
Einstein!  There was a lot of hugging and kissing going on as the news 
spread.  But the biggest surprise was yet to come.
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            There was to be an awards ceremony.  After the referees managed 
to clear the floor, we girls headed to our change room.  In an attempt to 
quiet our sudden nervous reaction to what was possibly the best match we had 
ever played, we took long, hot showers.  Annette and Mandy sharing their 
shower time with Wendy and me.
            As award ceremonies go, this was rather tame.  I much preferred 
the medallions given to us at Robert's house, but we ended up with gold 
medals, while Sir John A's received silver.  There was no third place in 
this tournament.
            We stood at attention while the National anthem was played and 
then had to stay and pose for pictures for the press.  And then the Minister 
of Education for Ontario, Thomas Wells, came forward to present the 
trophies.  The TV cameras were still rolling.  This was prime and free 
airtime for the Minister from Scarborough, and he was basking in it.  The 
team captain for Sir John A's accepted the handshake, and Mr. Wells took the 
trophy for their team from one of his aides and, making sure to face the 
camera, smiled as he passed on the silver chalice.
            When he held up the large gold trophy and attempted to hand it 
to Annette, she stepped back, as did every other girl in the team.  Camera 
flashes went off like so many lightning strikes in a summer storm.  We 
girls, Saints, all stood demurely with our hands behind our backs leaving 
the Honorable Minister looking befuddled.  Sister Gabe folded her hands 
leaving Sister Elizabeth to try to explain.
            Jim Blake ran forward to assist, and I had to stifle a laugh as 
I saw Mike and Ann come down from the stands, as well, following Bob and 
Hilda.  Krissy's mother and father got up too, and the flashbulbs kept 
popping.  People were milling around now as the contingency from London all 
gathered on the arena floor.  I guess I wasn't totally surprised to see 
Brett Faison there also, but I was puzzled to see one of his assistants 
carrying a large piece of cardboard.  At least that's what it looked like. 
Then it dawned on me what it was, and I stepped out of line to whisper into 
Annette's ear.  She looked into my eyes, hers full of surprise and then 
enthusiastically nodded.  She stepped closer to Sister Elizabeth and 
exchanged a few words.  Sister Elizabeth thought for just a few seconds and 
then nodded as well.
            Brett, being the professional television personality, caught the 
cues from Sister Elizabeth and took the microphone from the official.  His 
practiced voice cut through the din and buzz of the auditorium and silence 
descended on the crowd leaving his words echoing from the walls.
            "Jim Blake, come up here with me," he called, and Jim joined 
him, smiling once again.  "Ladies and gentlemen," said Brett.  "We apologize 
for the delay and confusion, but this team has vowed not to accept any 
trophy until they have played their final game.  To that end, CFPL TV and 
Mr. Blake of the London Free Press have had a running bet on how many games 
the Saints could win in their unbelievable winning streak.  Today marks 
their 25th game undefeated, which was where our bet stood."  Brett handed 
the microphone over to Jim.
            "Twenty-five games," said Jim.  "That is not a school record, 
nor even a city record.  This is an all time CANADIAN record!"  The cheers 
went up all over the auditorium.
            "And the wager ends here," he said.  "My paper has agreed that 
what started out as a friendly wager between myself and Mr. Faison will now 
be paid in full.  The London Free Press is matching the CFPL TV donation to 
the charity the Saints have adopted!"
            I have to say that Mr. Thomas Wells was taking all this in 
stride.  He knew he was standing in the middle of history in the making, and 
it all being free air time for him, he was not going to drop his smile or 
hurry them along for anything.
            Brett motioned to his assistant who unfolded the cardboard he 
was carrying to show a four-foot by two-foot check with beautifully scripted 
lettering showing the words 'Toronto Sick Children's Hospital'' and in even 
bigger numbers underneath, $32,000!
            Jim reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bank note, 
then brought the microphone to his mouth.  "We know that in the newspaper 
business, every inch counts!" he grinned, waving at the outsize check Brett's 
assistant was holding above his head.  "So, while our check is much smaller 
physically, the amount still says," he paused, then said slowly "Thirty - 
Two - Thousand!"
            The crowd was on its feet, cheering.  The girls from Sir John A's 
were cheering as well!
            Bob handed Brett a note, which he scanned quickly and then 
getting the microphone back from Jim announced that the parents, friends, 
and supporters of the Saints had contributed another 5,000 dollars earlier 
that morning, bringing the total up to 69 thousand dollars!
             "69!  My favorite number!"  Wendy whispered in my ear, and I 
couldn't stop from laughing.  Though I got a few curious looks, focus soon 
returned to the center of the stage, where Sister Elizabeth had convinced 
Jim and Brett to accept this trophy on our behalf.  The pictures on Saturday 
would show Jim and Brett hoisting the trophy high in the air while the 
minister of education stood beside them holding the donations with a smile 
bright enough to turn people snow-blind!  This was a school he was going to 
pay particular attention to.
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            We rode back to London on our own bus.  Bob had called ahead to 
Lulu's in Kitchener where tables were reserved for all the busses and 
passengers, and we sat down to a feast!  The tables were lined up like 
picnic tables so no one felt left out or sitting by themselves.  It didn't 
give us a lot of privacy to talk, but it made for fun eating.  Pitchers of 
sodas were set on the table as well as water.  Fresh baked garlic bread was 
in baskets all up and down the tables, as were platters of appetizers.  We 
gorged ourselves on ribs and roast and barbequed chicken, and of course 
German sausages covered in sauerkraut on buns.  We were a happy group.
            After the excitement of the past three days, it felt good to be 
with our families and loved ones.  Einstein, Tom, Rita, Julie, and Linda, 
all had found ways to be close to Wendy and me, flanked by Mike and Ann. 
Annette was with Mandy just a little ways up the table, Bob on one side and 
Hilda on the other, while Sister Elizabeth and Father Ed sat between us.  I 
saw Krissy and Oz with her parents.  Krissy told us that her mom and dad 
were following us part way home and then turning off at number 8 highway for 
a weekend at their vineyard at "Niagara-on-the-Lake."  I remembered that 
part of the country.  Just a few miles from the falls, it was prime wine 
land, and it had a quaint village that looked like it had 100 years ago.  It 
was the place where one of the first women in Canada's history had made her 
mark.
     ~~~
 Most Canadians know the name of Laura Secord, although they may be a bit 
fuzzy on the subject of her heroic trek that saved the British and Canadian 
forces at the Battle of Beaver Dams during the War of 1812.
 Laura Ingersoll Secord was the young wife of James Secord, a settler in 
Queenston, Upper Canada.  The War of 1812 was very personal to Laura.  Like 
her husband and many others in Upper Canada, Laura had been born in the 
United States and had relatives across the line.  But she was fiercely loyal 
to the British Crown and was committed to the defense of the colony.
 The story of Laura Secord's famous act of patriotism begins on the evening 
of June 21, 1813.  Several American officers forced their way into the 
Secord home and ordered Laura to serve them dinner.  The food was plentiful, 
the wine flowed, and as the evening wore on, the officers grew boisterous 
and carefree, boasting of their plans to crush the remaining British 
resistance in the area.  As Laura quietly washed the dishes, she listened to 
the voices of the American officers through the thin partition.
 "We'll make a surprise move against FitzGibbon at Beaver Dams."  It was the 
voice of Colonel Boerstter.  "We will destroy his headquarters and take the 
whole detachment captive."  Laura stood motionless with a warm plate in her 
hands, realizing that unless Lieutenant FitzGibbon was warned, the entire 
Niagara peninsula would be lost.  She glanced at her husband, who had been 
wounded six months earlier at the Battle of Queenston Heights and was still 
barely able to walk.  Then, in a tone of quiet determination, Laura told her 
husband that she was going to take the message to FitzGibbon herself.
 At dawn the next morning Laura began her journey dressed in her regular 
attire of a settler's wife.  In some versions of the story, Laura carries a 
milking pail and leads her cow along the road, as a cover for inquiring 
American sentries, although there is no hard evidence to support these 
details.  In any case, Laura Secord had to be very careful not to be 
captured.  The traditional punishment for spies was death by firing squad.
 Avoiding the main roads, Laura chose a difficult and circuitous 19-mile 
route to the stone house where FitzGibbon was stationed.
 She began by walking along the road to her brother-in-law's farm.  At one 
point her niece Elizabeth joined her, but gave up in exhaustion three hours 
later, just as they neared Black Swamp.
 Alone, Laura entered the most difficult part of her journey.  The heat of 
the June sun was beating down on her and the brambles tore at her clothing. 
Whether or not she was barefoot, as some versions of the story claim, the 
damp bog soon soaked her to the skin.  Yet, determined more than ever to 
accomplish her dangerous undertaking, Laura drove herself on, always 
listening for the fearsome cry of wolves.
 As darkness fell, Laura reached the edge of the swamp.  Haunted by the 
feeling that she was being watched, she climbed the steep escarpment and 
began moving through the thick undergrowth.  When she finally reached a 
clearing, she found herself surrounded by a band of Iroquois.  Though 
paralyzed by fear, she somehow forced herself to speak, managing to make the 
chief understand the urgency of her mission.  Impressed by her courage and 
sympathetic to her cause, he ordered one of his men to escort Laura to 
FitzGibbon's headquarters.
 An hour later, Laura Secord arrived at the British garrison just in time to 
warn FitzGibbon of the impending American attack before she collapsed from 
exhaustion.
     ~~~
            We finished our meal with dessert, which meant, of course, slabs 
of hot apple strudel topped with thick, homemade ice cream!  Handshakes were 
exchanged between the parents, and then hugs and kisses as Krissy's parents 
left, all of the team members thanking the La Plaine's for the special day 
and tour, and all climbed back onto the busses, fully sated.
            "Just four more games, Ladies," said Jim as he moved up to sit 
close to Annette.
            "Four?" asked Wendy.  "I thought we'd only have three more to go 
at the Nationals."
            Annette looked up.  "No, he's right," she sighed.  "That's why 
the Nationals are played over two days.  One team from every province, right 
Jim?"
            Jim chuckled and said, "That's right Annette.  But of course you'll 
get more rest time in between.  All ten teams compete on Thursday; the five 
winning teams and the losing team with the highest score will advance to the 
second round of elimination.  From there, four teams will be chosen to 
advance once more, and the winning teams will play the following day in the 
last game of the season.  Think you can bring your undefeated streak up to 
29 games?"
            "Oh, no," said Mandy.  "Please, no more bets."
            "Come on, Mandy," I chuckled.  "Four more wins and it will be a 
record that will never be broken.  Maybe matched but never broken, and we'll 
be the ones who set it!"
            "Aargh," growled Mandy.  "Ask me tomorrow!"
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            As we pulled off the 401 onto Wellington Road, Bob pulled on the 
air horn causing the three other busses to answer in response.  He blew the 
horn right up to the White Oaks Mall and we girls were starting to get 
curious.  Streetlights and spotlights were on all over the place, and big 
banners stretched across the road proudly proclaimed, "Go Saints!"  It was a 
humbling experience.  We weren't playing for the school anymore; we were 
playing for the city and the province!
            All the way up Wellington, right onto Richmond, which would take 
us home, Bob would lay on the horn, and more lights would turn on showing 
street signs and banners declaring the city's pride in us.
            Finally, pulling into the parking lot of St. Ursula's, we were 
shocked by the hundreds of fans and supporters waiting for us.  The cheering 
was overwhelming, and as we got off the bus, it just got louder.
            It was after 9 pm, and though the school should have been in 
semi-darkness by now, I swear every light in the place was blazing! 
Cheering greeted us from the windows of the dorms, and we waved to our 
schoolmates.  A platform was waiting for us near the statue of St. Ursula, 
and we made our way over, students and nuns clearing a path for us.  Large 
PA speakers had been set up on each end of the platform, and we stood and 
preened while our fans took pictures.  The lights of the flashcubes and the 
cold March evening made me wish we could do this inside.  Sister Elizabeth 
must have been reading my mind, as she looked at us girls slightly shivering 
and turned to speak to the crowd.
            "On behalf of the girls, I would like to thank each and every 
one of you for coming out and showing your support.  I am glad to see the 
Sisters thoughtfully prepared lots of tea and hot chocolate, and while we 
can't offer everyone a seat inside, I would invite you all in for a walking 
tour and a hot refreshment."  Cheers came from the crowd.
            Sister Gabe led us away from the cold of the night air.
            Right into the arms of the bitch from hell!
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            Although I didn't like the regular blood tests, I accepted them 
as part of the price we had to pay for winning.  I thought we would have 
until tomorrow as we had on other days, but Sister Gabe marched us right 
down to the locker rooms where a strange doctor and an even stranger nurse 
were waiting for us.  Doctor Parker was there as well and he didn't look 
pleased.  "Ladies, this is Doctor Maxwell from the London Health Unit. 
Claims have been made that I have been tampering with the blood work, so the 
Board of Education has sent him and Nurse Copellin to do the testing.  I 
will be examining you right afterwards, so perhaps this will give you a 
break tomorrow."  With that he turned on his heel and went behind the 
partition.  Julie followed him while Linda stayed in the hall calming the 
other girls.
            Sister Elizabeth was none too pleased at having been ordered to 
provide photo ID for all the team members and proof that we actually were 
full-time students.  She left to comply, muttering quietly as she went out 
the door.
            "I might as well go first," I said with more bravery than I 
felt.  I hated these bloodlettings and figured the sooner I got it done with 
the sooner I could go and scream.
            Scream I did!  Nurse Copellin barely brushed my arm with an 
alcohol swab before she jammed the needle into my arm.  She missed on the 
first attempt and jabbed the needle in again.
            "Hey!"  I said.  "Go easy with that thing.  That hurts!"
            "I'm surprised you can feel anything with all that dope in your 
system," she said.
            "Huh?  What dope?  What are you talking about?"
            "You know very well," she responded sticking me again.  "This 
school has never won anything in sports and now all of a sudden you're 
provincial champs?  You aren't fooling me."
            "Well, duh!"  I said.  "Practice and skill might have something 
to do with it!"
            "Right, I'll believe that when I see pigs fly," and she stabbed 
me again!
            "Hey!  Doc Parker!"  I shouted.  "You want to tell Mrs. Dracula 
here to sharpen her fangs a bit.  Three times she's drilled for oil and come 
up empty!  If she keeps this up I won't be able to play on Thursday!"
            Dr. Parker came flying out from behind the partition followed by 
Julie.  He took one look at my arm and said, "What the hell is going on 
here?"
            Doctor Maxwell just leaned back and smugly said, "Just following 
orders."
            "Terrorizing little girls?"  Doctor Parker shot back.  "Look at 
her arm, it's already bruising."
            "She's probably anemic," said Maxwell.
            "Like hell she is," and he walked to the phone and started 
dialing.  Meanwhile Nurse Sadist was gearing up for another shot at my arm 
when Julie pushed her hand away.
            "You just let me do my job, bitch, or I'll haul your ass in for 
covering up this whole drug deal.  See how far you can practice medicine 
from jail."
            "You're hurting her," Julie said.
            "She's a wimpy cunt," was the response, and I didn't wait a 
second longer.  I got up and hauled back my arm.  I was going to clock this 
bitch and see if she could take a lickin' and keep on tickin'!  Julie 
slipped her arm around mine just in time to prevent me from landing one on 
the wicked witch's jaw, which gave her time to try and stab me again.  But 
she hadn't counted on Sister Gabe.
            In a move straight from jujitsu, Sister Gabe applied a 
submission hold on Nurse Copellin, forcing her arm up behind her with enough 
pain and pressure to lift the nurse to her toes.
            "Now I think we will apologize to Miss Johnson," said Sister 
Gabe in a menacing tone that raised the hair on the back of my neck.
            "Let go of me you fucking bitch!" screamed the dumbest nurse I 
have ever seen.  Sister Gabe applied a bit more pressure and the tears 
started streaming from her eyes.
            "Oh, my Lord," said Sister Elizabeth who had arrived just in 
time to hear the last sentence.
            "The nurse was just about to apologize to Miss Johnson for some 
rather rude language, Sister," said Sister Gabe.
            "Frankly, I'd rather not hear another word from her," said 
Sister Elizabeth.  "I think a written apology to both you and Miss Johnson 
would be more appropriate."
            Sister Gabe added a bit more pressure for emphasis and said, 
"Don't try to speak.  Just nod that you understand and nod again that you 
will do as Sister Elizabeth-Ann asks."  Then her voice dropped down to a 
mere whisper.  "If I don't see you nodding with enthusiasm, I will escort 
you outside where we will discuss this further."
            I was stunned!  Our even-tempered Sister Gabe sounded like she 
wanted to kick the nurse's ass from here to downtown!
            The nurse was nodding vigorously, and Sister Gabe slowly eased 
the pressure from her submission hold.  Things went very quiet in the room 
and we all could hear Doctor Parker talking on the phone.
            "I don't care what the Board wants, Jane.  This is assault!  You 
just have to look at this girl's arm!"  He paused a moment, listening, then 
went on, his voice calm.  "You know, Jane, I'm sure that guy from the Free 
Press is still around here.  Wouldn't that be a great headline tomorrow -'City 
Nurse Attacks Saints!' - complete with pictures?"
            I glanced at the nurse and doctor to see their faces bearing 
identical expressions of shock, and then out of the corner of my eye I 
caught the movement of someone slipping out the door.  I looked around - 
everyone was still here, but Krissy was wearing her best 'Who me?' 
expression.
            Meanwhile, Dr. Parker was listening to the squawks on the phone, 
his lips in a thin smile.  "Jane, you don't know what trouble is!  These 
girls are the Provincial Champions.  Okay, I think we can live with that. 
Yeah, but you better be on top of this, 'cause it's not."  He barked a short 
laugh.  "Yeah, the entire team and their support staff - the only ones not 
in here are their parents and the reporters, and I bet they're not too far 
away, yeah, hang on."
            "You!" he said, holding the receiver toward Dr. Maxwell.  "Your 
boss wants to talk to you!"
            Dr. Maxwell gingerly took the phone and put it to his ear. 
"Hello?"
            We could hear the screaming on the other end as he winced and 
pulled the receiver from his ear.  "Ma'am?"
           If anything, his face went a whiter shade of pale as he croaked 
"Yes, Ma'am. yes, Ma'am. thank you Ma'am."
            He shakily hung up the phone and turned to the nurse.  "You 
stupid cow," he said in a dead voice.  "As of right now, we are both 
suspended pending investigation of our actions and those allegations of 
tampering with the blood samples.  And the mayor will see us in her office 
at 8 am tomorrow, sharp."  His voice turned ugly.  "I tell you Louise, if I'm 
going down for this, I'm going to be standing on you when I do, I don't care 
where your daughter goes to school!"
            He turned to Dr. Parker.  "Sir, lab techs from the University 
Hospital will be here shortly to take the samples and have them analyzed." 
Then he turned to me and said, "Miss, I am truly sorry for having caused you 
pain," then closed his bag and quickly left.
            The nurse stood stunned for a moment, then looked around as she 
realized she was now the center of attention, squeaked and ran for the door.
            A moment after she disappeared, we saw the reflected light of a 
camera flash and a babble of voices 'Doctor Maxwell, can you comment...' 
FLASH!  'Allegations of assault.'  FLASH!  'Board of Education. blood tests.' 
FLASH!
            As the commotion faded down the hall, Oz slipped back into the 
room, wearing a very smug expression as she went to stand by Krissy, who 
wrapped an arm around her.  "What!?" he exclaimed, looking around at us all.
            I heard Sister Gabe let out an amused snort as Julie looked at 
my aching arm.  "I'm going to have to get some ice," she said quietly to Dr. 
Parker, who was looking on.  He nodded and she went quickly out of the room 
as he took me gently by the other arm, guided me behind the partition, and 
had me sit down.  He clucked his tongue as he examined the puncture wounds.
            "That's going to hurt like the very devil for a while," he said, 
looking at me.
            "Yeah," I replied, "she wasn't going for blood eh, she was just 
trying to do some damage."  I started undoing the buttons on my blouse with 
the other arm.
            "Patti, do you want to take this further?" he asked quietly as 
he helped me to take off the blouse.
            I thought about it for a few moments.  "Nah, I don't think so." 
I grinned.  "I mean, they've got more shi. I mean, trouble, than they can 
handle right now, anyway!"
            He smiled at my slip.  "They've got the Mayor on their case, and 
Jim Blake, and probably Mr. Denure as well."
            "And probably her daughter too," I added sadly, looking at Dr. 
Parker.  "They're generally a good bunch of kids, and I don't think it's 
likely she knew what her mom was doing."
            Dr. Parker got a strange expression on his face, then I saw his 
eyes had dropped from mine down to my chest.
            Oops!  I hadn't worn a bra, and now here I was sitting 
bare-breasted in front of a man!  Oh, screw it!  I thought and sat up 
straight and took a deep breath.  He's a doctor; besides, he'd probably much 
rather see Wendy's than my little itty-bitty titties!
            He raised his eyes to mine again and smiled, and I grinned back. 
"They've grown a bit," he commented.  "Are you taking an oral 
 contraceptive?"
            Shit!
            "It's okay, Patti," he said calmly.  "Whatever is said between 
us remains strictly confidential.  Nothing will appear in your records 
either."
            I sighed and confirmed that I was indeed on the pill.  I hadn't 
realized that I had grown a bit - not much - but just enough to realize that 
Doctor Parker had paid a lot more attention to my boobs last time than I 
thought.
            "Have people been telling you they will still grow," he asked 
with a twinkle in his eye.
            "Yeah," I sighed.  "It seems everybody thinks I'll suffer from 
low self esteem if I don't have big tits.  Oops, I meant large breasts!"
            He laughed as Julie came back in carrying a pouch of ice. 
"Patti," she said, "you should have waited.  The rules are that a female 
nurse must be present before you are examined by a male doctor."
            "I know," I said to her, "but Doctor Parker . he's okay.  I 
mean, what's he going to do with only a partition between us and the rest of 
the team?"
            "What rest of the team?" she asked.  "Sister Gabe told them to 
get changed while we wait for the lab techs to arrive from University 
Hospital!  Wendy's the only one sitting out there waiting for you."
            I shrugged.  So I knew he liked looking at young girls, and he 
noticed my boobs.  So, he's only human.  He was a kindly doctor and reminded 
me of Marcus Welby.  Looked a bit like him too.  "Hey Wendy," I called out. 
"Come on in.  The doctor is fine!"  I laughed at my own joke, and even Julie 
had to smile.
            Wendy entered while Julie was wrapping a tensor around the ice 
pack.  Damn, now I was going to get freezer burn on that arm as well!  It 
was cold, but after a few minutes it sort of got numb.  Wendy looked at me 
sitting topless and asked if this was an invitation-only party.  That 
cracked me up, and I started to undo her blouse, telling her we might as 
well both get checked at the same time.
            Wendy blushed but let me remove her blouse and then her bra 
before she sat on the table beside me.  Doctor Parker gently lifted one of 
her breasts before asking if she was also on the pill now.
            "You told him?"  Wendy asked incredulously.
            "Nah, he figured it out by himself.  It seems our good doctor 
here notices a lot more than he lets on!"
            Doctor Parker just smiled, put on his stethoscope, and listened 
to both of us breathe for a few minutes, then checked our nails, explaining 
how he had learned from his time in the military that hair and nails were 
good indicators of general health.  He explained that fissures on the nails 
or bumps were indicators of something wrong, while too many white marks 
showed too much calcium in the system.  Hair and nails were long-term 
indicators of good health, and he checked our scalps to see if our hair was 
brittle or dry.  Next he checked our feet.  He told us we could put our tops 
back on, but neither Wendy nor I made a move.  We liked Doctor Gary Parker, 
and if it made his day to see us sitting there with our boobs showing, well, 
what better way of showing our thanks for the extra care?
            As he bent down to look at our feet, Julie snickered and said 
she thought the good doctor had a foot fetish.  Doctor Parker looked up from 
where he was examining our soles and said, "Nurse Wilson, my fetishes might 
include many unorthodox things, but I can assure you that feet are not one 
of them."  Then he smiled and explained he was looking for bruises or signs 
of wear from bad landings, and to make sure our arches were still holding 
up.  He suggested a new style of gym shoe that had a cushioned, contoured 
arch support and said he would mention it to Sister Gabe.
            I knew what he was talking about and mentally kicked myself for 
not thinking of it earlier.  "Are you suggesting Puma or Adidas?"  I asked.
            "Very good," he said.  "Something along that line.  I personally 
find the Adidas to be a bit pricy, but I guess you get what you pay for."
            "Hey, Doc," I said.  "Before everybody interrupted, you were 
commenting on my potential boob growth."
            He leaned back and appraised my itty bitties once again before 
answering.  "You seem like a level-headed young lady," he said.  "I'll be 
honest with you.  Maybe, just maybe, if you have a child, there will be more 
growth, but in all likelihood, I would say you are already the size you were 
destined to be.  You've passed puberty, and your diet is obviously healthy, 
so I don't expect you will ever need to worry about wearing a bra.  Does 
that bother you?"
            "Hell, no!"  I said.  "I like them just the way they are."
            "So do I," Wendy said with a loving smile.
            Doctor Parker looked at both of us with a gentle smile and said, 
"Then enjoy what you have and don't let others convince you to change."
            "No worries there, Doc," I said jumping down off the table.  I 
gave him a quick peck on the cheek, thanked him for the confidentiality, and 
started to put my blouse back on.
            "By the way," he added, "any progress on the memory front?"
            I looked at him and deadpanned, "I'm sorry, have we been 
introduced?"
            This got everybody laughing, and a few minutes later the lab 
techs showed up.  This time, using my other arm, they very gently took a 
sample of blood from me.  Wendy gave a sample and we headed to our room to 
change.  We met Linda on the way with the rest of the team in tow.
            "You heading to the gym?"  Annette asked.
            "Right after we change," Wendy said.
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            We had gone back down to the gym after I got the ice off my arm 
and we had changed.  We mingled for a while, had some of the pastry and tea, 
chatted with Einstein, and then called it a night.  Mike and Ann looked 
pretty tired themselves, so we told them to go home and get some rest.
            Einstein told us that his March break was coming up in just a 
week.  He wanted to join us in Ottawa, but he didn't know how he was going 
to be able to make it.  It made me feel bad that we couldn't find an excuse 
to take him along.
            Our own semester break was coming up and we had two weeks off 
coming.  I was wondering where we would spend it - and how!
   ~~~~~ // ~~~~~
            Saturday was a fun day.  We watched the highlights of the 
tournament in a special broadcast.  The entire tournament was being aired 
later in the day, but Wendy and I were heading off with Mike and Ann.  Tom 
had gotten some good steaks and we were all headed to his place for another 
barbeque.
            The swelling in my arm had gone down, but I was still left with 
a nasty bruise.  We were in Einstein's room, recounting our experiences. 
Einstein was more than a little angry after seeing the bruising.  We never 
did hear what happened to the doctor or the nurse, but being the damage was 
restricted to just the bruising and my psyche was still intact, I really 
didn't care.  If I focused on every little thing that was negative in my 
life, I could easily become self-absorbed in an unhealthy life pattern.  I 
made a vow right then I would change the things I could, accept the things I 
couldn't and I prayed to the Goddess for the wisdom to know the difference!
            Linda and Julie arrived in time for supper, bringing Father Ed 
with them.  The steaks were something else.  Tom explained that he had 
rebuilt an antique display case for a local butcher, and besides the 
financial reward, the butcher had given Tom a box of steaks he had 
personally hand cut.  Each steak was at least an inch and a half thick.  The 
fat had been trimmed off and Tom really knew how to work a barbeque.  Mike 
and Tom stood outside drinking beer, while Father Ed sat with Ann and Rita 
inside where it was a bit warmer.  He had brought along a bottle of the wine 
from the church rectory and he, Linda, and Julie shared a drink with Ann and 
Rita.  As the "kids," we stayed out of the way in Einstein's bedroom 
listening to old records till supper was ready.
            As usual, the meal was excellent, and after supper we adjourned 
to the living room once again for real conversation.  Though we were 
technically the "kids," no one spoke down to us and we were active 
participants in the conversation, which rapidly took an unusual turn.  Rita 
said, with pride in her eyes that Einstein had signed up for summer school. 
It was going to cost him tuition fees since he was an honor student at Beal, 
and not failing a single class, but he was determined to pick up extra 
subjects so he could graduate at the same time as Wendy and me.
            I turned to look at Einstein.  My eyebrows arched in question. 
The room had gone silent.
            "I can't have you two graduating before me," he said jokingly. 
"Besides, we might all end up going to the same university."  Now that was 
something I hadn't thought about.  I knew that Einstein had ambitions for 
his future, but had never thought of his future education tied to ours.
            "You should all be proud of your children," said Father Ed. 
"Three honor students and all of them involved in community projects and 
extracurricular activities."
            This comment of course made all the parents proud, and we sat 
quietly embarrassed as the adults recounted all of our accomplishments in 
the past year.
To be continued.
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-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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