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 ï>¿The Trailer Park: The Third Year A Story in the Wynter/Trailer Park
Universe by Wizard CopyrightÂ(C) 2006 by Wizard

   Chapter 11

   I was sitting in the bleachers, one arm around Tami's waist, the other
around Ashley's shoulders.  Feeling the two girls huddled close to me,
trying to keep warm in the fierce October wind, was nice.  The looks I was
getting from some of the guys near us made it even better.  Ricky was
sitting on the other side of Tami, and Luke and Mikee were on the other
side of Ashley.

   This was the life.  I didn't even need to pay much attention to the game
in front of me.  We were playing the Loggers, the toughest team in our
league.  The varsity hadn't won a game yet, so it was all a question of
could we keep the Loggers from setting a scoring record.  There were still
two minutes in the first quarter, and the Loggers had already scored twice.

   I saw Robbie trot out onto the field and Mike Reed, the first string
quarterback, head for the sidelines.  I started to say something, but
noticed that Luke's hand was under Mikee's very short skirt.  The dog. 
Mikee and the rest of the middle school cheerleaders had gotten to cheer
with the varsity cheerleaders before the game.

   I was trying not to stare as Mikee's skirt moved, not very successfully,
I'll admit, when I realized that someone was standing in front of me.

   "Coach wants you," Jaime Arnold said.

   "Huh?" I said brilliantly as I tried to pull my focus away from the
treasure I knew was under that skirt.

   "The coach wants you," she said again, very slowly.

   Behind her, Robbie took the snap, faded back, and fired a short pass
just before two of the Loggers hit her hard.  The ball sailed right into
the hands of our receiver, who managed another three yards before getting
tackled.  Twelve yards and a first down.

   I looked back at Jaime.  "I'm kind of comfortable."

   "The coach wants you, NOW!  You're suiting up." Then she turned and
bounced down the stairs to the field.  Jamie could really bounce.  She was
the captain of the cheerleaders.

   I kissed Ashley lightly on the cheek, then Tami on the lips.  "I go now.
Fame and glory await," I said pompously.

   "My hero," Ashley said and pretended to swoon as I stood up.

   Tami brought her fist to her breast with a stiff arm, then extended it
out and up in the old Roman salute.  "Come back with your shield, or on it,
my captain."

   I nodded to Ricky then ran down the stairs.  I ran out onto the field
and up to the coach.  "Suit up.  Be here in five minutes."

   Totally ridiculous.  It would take me three minutes to run to the locker
room, at least five minutes to get pads on and suited up, and three minutes
to get back.  "Five minutes," I agreed and ran off.

   I was pulling on my hip pads when I heard the gun sound, ending the
first quarter.  At least my uniform was clean.  I always washed it the
night after a game and brought it back the next morning.  It was one less
thing to worry about on game days.

   We were three minutes into the second quarter when I ran back on the
field.  Tami saw me, and she, Ashley, and Mikee stood up and started
cheering.  Then people around them started cheering too, though they
probably didn't know why.  I waved as I trotted up to the coach.  "Sit!" he
said, waving at the bench.  So much for hero time.

   Sitting there on the bench, the varsity players totally ignoring me, I
realized I was in a world of hurt.  The JV coach--my coach, Mr. 
Henley--didn't like Mr.  Branson, the varsity coach.  The teams didn't work
out together, and we didn't even use the same play book.  What the hell was
I going to do?

   The half ended on a high note.  Mike Reed took the snap, faked a handoff
to Robbie, then faded back to pass.  Two of the Loggers hit him from each
side and the ball went loose.  Robbie scooped it up and zig-zagged her way
down field for a twenty-one yard touchdown.  Our first.  Score at the half:
thirty-six to six.

   I felt really weird walking with the team toward the locker room, my
uniform gleaming white in a sea of dirt and grass stained jerseys.  Robbie
came up and put her arm around me.  "How are you feeling?"

   "Lost.  How 'bout you?  You took some good hits."

   Robbie laughed.  "They're boys.  They don't know how to hit."

   I didn't even bother to defend my gender.

   The coach was less than inspiring in the locker room.  And our charge
back to the field was more of a disinterested jog.

   The first play, Robbie and I were both on defense.  We were on the left
side.  The center hiked the ball, and I hit the left end while Robbie
scooted around.  She was on the quarterback before he knew what had hit
him. And hit him she did.  Right at the side of the knees.  She picked him
up and carried him a couple of feet before they both hit the ground.

   Having been hit by Robbie, I felt a little sorry for him.  Just a
little. I wondered if he knew he'd just been sacked by a girl.  And a
freshman girl at that.

   As we set up for the second down, I had a vicious idea.  I motioned
Robby over and whispered to her.  The grin on her face told me that my idea
was as good as I thought.

   We held them for the next two plays, which brought us to fourth down
with twelve yards to go.  "They're not going to punt," I told Robbie. 
"They haven't had to punt all season, and they're not going to punt against
us." She nodded.  I pointed and motioned, and she nodded again.

   The Loggers lined up and looked like they were gonna punt.  But I was
confident.  Sort of.  The center hiked the ball, and I dove hard between
two of the lineman.  Then Robbie was going over the top of me, her foot in
the middle of my back.  Mental note: no more donuts for Robbie.  Robbie was
through the hole and on top of the quarterback.

   As the kid was picking himself up after the play, Robbie unsnapped her
helmet and took it off, then shook out her hair.  Lots of long red hair. 
The kid's eyes barely stayed in his head.  Robbie grinned at me as she
walked back to our side, tucking her hair in and putting her helmet back
on.

   That ought to shake him up a little, I thought.

   Mike Reed came out to quarterback, but Robbie and I stayed in the game.
Mike took the snap, Robbie ran along the outside, Mike faked the handoff. I
came up the other side and Mike slammed the ball into my gut.  I ran
straight at the sideline, turned, planted, and fired a short pass, right to
where I knew Robbie would be waiting.  She caught the ball and made fifteen
yards before a Logger caught up to her and brought her down.

   I wish I could say we won, the comeback of the season.  But when the
final gun sounded the Loggers won, forty-six to nineteen.  But at least we
scared 'em a little.  Robbie's stats were amazing: five sacks, an
interception, and a fumble recovery, on top of sixty-five yards on the
ground.

   My stats weren't nearly as good, but good enough that I moved to varsity
for the rest of the season.  It felt good to be the fifth freshman.

   It also felt good to read the write-up in the paper about the game. 
They had a great picture of Robbie's second sack and about half of the full
page article was about Monster Girl as somebody from the Loggers called
her.

   Monster Girl.  I liked that.



   Chapter 12

   "It's for you,." Tami announced, looking...  not surprised.  Wary?

   I'd been sitting between Robbie and Tami on the sofa in Tami's living
room, watching Ever After on television and wondering if this might be a
good night to suggest the threesome that Robbie owed me.

   "Hello?" I said, after taking the phone.  It was only nine-thirty on a
Saturday night, so I didn't think it'd be Mom or Dad.

   "Tony?"

   A girl's voice, but I didn't recognize it.

   "This is Tony."

   "I didn't know who else to call."

   Flattering, but not terribly informative.

   "Okay?"

   "I need...  I think I need some help."

   "Allie?"

   "I don't know...  what to do.  I called your house, they said you were
here."

   "Allie, what's wrong."

   "I'm at THE party."

   Shit!  When she said the party instead of a party, I knew exactly where
she was.

   "Do you need me to come get you?

   "Please." It was the most pathetic sounding word I'd ever heard.

   "Five minutes."

   "I've got to go," I said to Tami and Robbie, setting the phone on the
coffee table and standing up.

   "To see Allie," Tami accused.

   "Yeah, to see Allie." Either we had trust or we didn't.  "If you get
lonely," I said as I stepped out the door, "you could always tell Robbie
about that little fantasy you had on the fourth of July."

   I ran home.

   "Mom, I need a ride."

   "It's almost ten," she said, from her perch on Dad's lap.  Traci was
lying on her stomach on the floor in front of them, trying to ignore our
parents who didn't know how to act their age.  Ever After was on the TV.

   "Mom, I need a ride NOW!"

   Mom looked surprised, but after she studied my face a few seconds she
struggled to get up.  "I'll get my keys."

   "What's wrong?" Dad asked, while Mom put on her shoes.

   "It would really help if this was a don't-ask-don't-tell kind of thing."

   Dad looked like he was going to argue, then stayed quiet.  He probably
figured he'd let Mom worm it out of me.

   "Can I come?" The squirt asked from the floor.

   "No!" I said sharply, then softened it.  "Not this time."

   "Where are we going?" Mom asked, picking her keys up off the table in
the foyer.

   "Falstaff Road on the other side of town." I opened the door and a big
wet snowflake landed in my left eye.  Just what I needed.

   The snow was just beginning to fall, so the roads wouldn't be bad.  But
visibility might suffer.  The forecast had said Sunday.

   "Would you like to tell me why we're going out into a blizzard?" she
asked as she started the car.  There was about a dozen splotches on the
windshield from the snow.  Not exactly a white-out.

   "A friend called.  She's in trouble."

   "That call a few minutes ago.  I gave her Tami's number." Mom turned the
car onto the highway and headed for town.  "She sounded upset."

   I knew that don't-ask-don't-tell wasn't going to get me very far.  Mom
was capable of stopping the car on the side of the road and sitting there
with us slowly freezing to death until I talked.

   "There's a party.  It's a tradition the Saturday after football
finishes. It's at Gary's house.  Gary Peters.  It's mostly juniors and
seniors, Gary's a senior.  A friend of mine went.  I think she's in over
her head."

   "And she called you?"

   "She called me."

   "It's not Robbie, is it?  I thought she was with you at Tami's house."

   "She was.  Is."

   "That new girl, Ashley?"

   "No, she went to Seattle with her Dad.  Her mom and little sister are
flying in tomorrow."

   "Then..."

   The unspoken'Who?' hung in the air in the frigid car.  I wondered if I
could get away with not saying.  Then decided it didn't matter.

   "Allie Smidt.  I don't think you know her."

   "Why'd she call you?"

   "That is a very good question." And one that Tami is probably asking
herself right now.  Allie and I were friends, but hadn't been close except
for that fling a year-and-a-half ago.  Then she'd gone off to camp and Tami
and I were Tami and I when she came back.

   "Why not call her parents?"

   "Mom, I don't know!" I said, a little more hotly than necessary.  "Maybe
they're not home.  Or maybe she's afraid to call.  I just don't know." Mom
nodded.

   "Take the by-pass, it goes right by Falstaff." Mom nodded again and made
the turn.  The snow was picking up, but still wasn't that bad.  And it
didn't seem to be sticking on the road.

   "That's Falstaff," I said pointing.

   "Mom chuckled.  "Tony, I've lived here as long as you." She turned onto
Falstaff.

   "I wasn't sure if you knew this part of town," I explained.

   "Janet Taylor lives over here." I made a face and watched the road. 
Janet Taylor worked with Mom.  She also had a daughter, Kendra, that Mom
had tried to fix me up with a couple of times, after she'd decided that
Tami and I were too serious.

   "Where to?"

   "Not exactly sure," I admitted.  Gary was on the football, team
-"co-captain as a matter of fact-and had never accepted the fact that I
was, too.

   "That's helpful."

   "Look for a house with a lot of cars."

   "What if someone else is having a party?"

   "I have a feeling this will be kind of obvious." We drove slowly down
the wide residential street.  "There!"

   Obvious was an under-statement.  There were about thirty cars parked in
front of the large two-story house.  Several parked on the lawn.  One
parked with it's tail end halfway in the road.  The front door was open,
despite the thickening snow, and a loud bass beat filled the street.

   "Are we taking her home?"

   "Mom!" I said, exasperated.  "I really hate when you ask questions I
don't know the answers to."

   Mom parked next to the car sticking into the road.

   "Wait here!" I ordered.  Mom cocked her head and looked at me as I
opened the door.  "Please?" She nodded.

   "What are you doing here?" Steve Logan, another senior and another
football player not happy about a freshman on HIS team.

   "Carla invited me," I said, thinking quickly.  The two biggest sluts in
the school were both named Carla, and I'd bet the ranch they were both here
somewhere.  Steve ignored me.

   I wandered in, not closing the door.  Four couples were squeezed onto
the sofa making out.  I noticed that Jenny Tadesco had a very nice tit,
since it was poking out of her shirt as Vinnie Barbarino pawed it.  Another
dozen kids milled around, talking or dancing.

   Alana was on the floor with a guy I didn't know.  They were more than
dancing, but not quite fucking.

   I went into the kitchen and saw a dozen almost-empty bottles lined up
for inspection on the counter, mostly vodka, but a couple of Jim Beam and
one Jack Daniels.  Three kegs sat on the kitchen table.  Several guys I
knew from the team were standing around with drinks in their hands.

   No Allie.

   Another room, probably the den, and I found Paula pressed into a corned
by Mark Richards.  Which was interesting because as of this afternoon, she
was going out with Ben Wright.

   Paula saw me.  "Hey tiger, come to party?"

   Mark turned around and glared at me.  Interrupting a senior while he's
making out is not the best thing for a freshman's health.

   "Looking for Allie," I told her.

   Paula looked surprised.  "Upstairs, the last time I saw her." Mark
decided that we'd talked enough and pressed her back into the corned and
covered her mouth with his.  I nodded thanks, not sure if she'd notice, and
headed for the stairs.

   Upstairs, I hesitated outside the first door.  From what was going on
downstairs, I had a feeling that I'd be Interrupting some serious stuff if
I picked the wrong room.

   I opened the door.  The room was dark except for the band of light from
the door.  On the bed, was a very nice bare ass, with her legs wrapped
around a naked guy.  But it was a blond, so I closed the door quickly.

   The next door I opened, there were two couples on the bed, one fucking,
the other in a 69.  But the girls weren't Allie.  "Shut the fucking door,"
came a strained voice from the tangle that I wasn't sure was male or
female.

   The next door was locked.  I assumed it was a bathroom.

   I knocked.

   "Go away!"

   "Allie?"

   "Go away!"

   "Allie, it's Tony."

   "You go away, too."

   Now what?  "Allie, tell me you're okay, and I'll go away."

   A girl I vaguely recognized came up beside me.  "She's been in there
awhile," she said softly.

   I nodded.  "Allie, are you okay?"

   "I'm fin..." The door opened and Allie rushed out and hugged me.  I
noticed her shirt was open and caught a quick glimpse of her yellow bra. 
"I...  I didn't know what to do."

   I put my arms around her.  "You did the right thing," I whispered.  "You
called a friend." The girl in the hallway slipped past us, and I saw her
start to pull down her jeans before the door closed.

   "Come on." I started leading her toward the stairs.  "Do you want to
talk about it?"

   "No, I can't."

   "Okay." We were about halfway down the stairs, and I wondered what I was
going to do with her.  Tami didn't like her, but I knew she'd take her in
if I asked.  Or I could take her home.  But what about her parents?  Were
they home?  Did they expect her, or was she supposed to spend the night
somewhere?  Why the hell am I involved.

   Just as we stepped outside, Allie convulsed and spewed a
greenish-blackish gunk all over Mrs.  Peters' roses.  I was guessing that
little Allie had some of that liquor from the kitchen.

   It was cold, but I didn't want to worry about Allie's coat.  I would
have given her mine, but it was back in Tami's living room.  I guided her
toward the car.  Just as I open the back door, Allie let loose with another
torrent of goo, this one more of a yellow-green.  I wondered if that was a
good sign.

   I got Allie in and sat beside her.  Thankfully the car was warm now. 
Mom looked back at us, I'm sure noticing Allie's open shirt, then looked at
me questioningly.

   "Home." I mouthed.  "Do you need anything?" I asked softly.

   Allie shook her head.  "I came with Rod Anderson," she said quietly. 
Another football player.  A senior and the other co-captain.  Allie was
playing at the top of the food chain.  "His friend Alex Keaton came too,
but by himself.  We had some drinks."

   I guessed more than a couple.

   "Then we went upstairs to fool around.  Alex came too."

   Allie looked at me, the surprise must have shown on my face.  "I'm not
like that.  I was just...  it was...  it was just a little kinky.  And I
was feeling all warm and loose."

   "Allie, you don't have to say..." I whispered.

   "We started out just necking.  And touching." Allie kept her voice low,
not wanting my mother to hear.  "Then Rod was pulling off my clothes.  Alex
was in a chair, and he had his dick out, playing with it."

   "Is that when your shirt got ripped?"

   Allie nodded.  "Rod was just playing around, but the buttons all came
off.  Rod fucked me standing up, right there in the middle of the room. 
It...  it wasn't the first time.  Alex sat there watching."

   I nodded, not a clue what to say.

   "Then Rod wanted me to do Alex."

   "Did he force..."

   Allie shook her head hard, then looked like she regretted the action. 
"He didn't make me.  He just kept talking about being nice to Alex.  And
Alex didn't have a girlfriend.  And...  and...  I let him." Allie dropped
her head to my shoulder.  I didn't think she was crying, but I just held
her.

   "When he finished, he was talking about how much Timmy and Brian would
like me," Allie said into my shoulder.  "That's when I hid in the bathroom.
The phone was on the counter and..."

   "You called me.  Why me?"

   "I...  I knew, I could trust you."

   Well, there are worse reputations to have.

   "What do you want to do now?  Do you want to go home?"

   "I'm...  I'm scared.  Mom..."

   "Loves you." I finished for her, hoping it was true.

   "I...  I can't face her.  Or Dad."

   "I know a nice little cave.  We can move you in.  Set up housekeeping.
You can hide forever."

   Allie lifted her face off my shoulder and looked up at me, "Fuck you!"
she said loudly enough that I knew Mom heard.  I hoped she wouldn't say
anything.

   "You can stay with Tami tonight.  Go home in the morning," I said in a
normal voice, so that Mom would hear.

   "Tami doesn't like me,": she said flatly.

   "You can stay with Tami," I said firmly.  "Robbie's there too." I was
sure that Robbie knew Allie; it was a small school.  But I had no clue if
she liked her, hated her, or what.

   "Or you can stay at my house.  But you'd have to call home and let them
know where you are."

   "I don't think Mom would like that."

   "Then it's home or the cave."

   Allie gave me a dirty look.  Then buried her face in my shoulder again.
I guess I'd better go home," she said, her voice muffled.  "Mom's gonna
kill me."

   "Nobody's gonna kill anybody."

   We were almost to the trailer park.  I gave Mom directions.  A couple of
minutes later we pulled up in front of Allie's house.

   "Do you want me to come up with you?" Mom asked from the front seat.

   'Yes, Mommy, I want to hold your hand and hide behind you.' I wished I
could say.  "No, thanks," I said, trying to sound casual as I opened the
door.

   I hugged Allie close as I walked to the door, both for warmth and for
support.

   The door was locked.  My dream of slipping Allie quietly into the house
started sliding away.

   "Do you have a key?"

   "In my jacket," she said, shivering.

   Having Allie catch pneumonia probably wouldn't make this any easier.  I
knocked.

   After about a minute, the porch light came on.  I wondered if it would
be a good time to take up prayer.

   The door opened.  "Tony?" Mrs.  Smidt opened the door wider.  "What have
you done to Allison?" she practically screamed as she saw Allie.

   "She's all right," I said, trying to sound calm.

   "My baby!" she reached for Allie, and Allie pulled back, hugging me
tighter.  "You pervert!" I considered pointing out that in most cultures, a
boy and a girl the same age having sex wasn't considered a perversion, but
decided a semantics lesson probably wouldn't help things.

   "Where's her room" I asked, hoping to deflect things.

   "So you can..."

   "Where's her damned room?" I said losing my temper.

   "Upstairs, second door on your left," A man said, coming up behind Mrs.
Smidt.

   As I stepped into the foyer I got a good look at him.  He looked like
the kind of guy the NFL would hire to make linemen behave.

   As I guided Allie up the stairs, I saw them talking animatedly.  I was
beginning to understand why there were so few good Samaritans in the world.

   I parked Allie on her bed, noticing that her room was all pink and lacy
with a couple of posters of hot boy bands on the wall.

   "Go to bed," I advised.  "Try not to talk about anything tonight."

   She nodded.  "I wish you could stay."

   I grinned down at her.  "I have a feeling if I take more than a minute,
the sheriff will be on his way.  Call me, if you need me."

   I closed her door behind me, took a deep breath and headed for the
stairs.  Mom was waiting at the bottom.  "What did you do to her?" she
asked, before I halfway down.

   "I picked her up from a party."

   "What kind of party did you take my baby to?"

   "You're not listening.  I picked her up.  I wasn't at the party."

   "You rapist!"

   "Are you hard of hearing, or just stupid?  Your daughter was at a party
and needed to get out of there.  She called me.  She didn't call you.  You
might want to think about that."

   I looked over at the man, who so far hadn't joined in.

   "I'm going to find out exactly what happened," she declared and started
up the stairs.

   "I think you should wait," I said, blocking her way.  "You're wound up,
she's upset.  Not a good combination."

   "Get out of my way!"

   "Annie, get down here," the man said.

   "John?"

   "He's right.  This'll wait."

   "Did she tell you what happened?" she said, not retreating.

   "No." It wasn't the truth, but in this case, the truth wasn't mine to
tell.

   "What if she had sex?" she said, looking down at her husband.

   The man looked like his cool was slipping.

   "Will you take some advice from a pervert rapist?"

   She glared at me.

   "Don't ask."

   "She's my daughter," she said firmly, as if that solved everything.

   "If she tells you she had sex, will that make you feel better?  If she
tells you she didn't, will you believe her?  I think it's a no-win
situation unless she wants to volunteer something."

   "I'll tell you one thing.  She's never going to another party."

   She was annoying the hell out of me or I wouldn't have done it.  I
smiled smugly.  "Ma'am, I had sex with a few girls.  Not once at a party."

   "Well, I..."

   "Tony, was it?" the man asked.  I nodded.  "Thank you from bringing
Alison home.  You'd better go now."

   I nodded, stepped past Mrs.  Smidt, and walked to the door.  I looked
back.  Mrs.  Smidt was standing halfway up the stairs, looking alternately
up at the top, and down at her husband.  I let myself out.

   "You okay?" Mom asked as I got into the car beside her.

   I nodded.  "I don't think I made any friends in that house tonight."

   "I think you made one," she said as she put the car in drive.



   Chapter 13

   It was almost four the next day before I got over to Tami's house. 
First Mom decided that we should all go to church, even though Grandma
Cooper wasn't visiting.  Then Dad decided that we should all go out for
brunch.  Then Traci wanted to do a family movie.  I got a vote; it just
didn't count.

   There were about four inches of snow on the ground as I trudged to
Tami's house.  By the time I got to Tami's, my feet were cold enough that I
wondered if it was time to break down and buy a pair of boots.

   I stomped up her porch, trying to knock the snow off my tennis shoes.  I
wondered how she took my leaving to go see Allie.  I knocked.  A minute
later, Tami opened the door.  "Hi.  How are you?" I had no idea why I was
sounding so formal.

   Tami cocked an eyebrow.  "Fine.  And you?"

   "I'm good." Suddenly, I had nothing to say.

   "Must have been a hell of a party, if you're just getting home."

   "I, uh..."

   "Of course, Allie's a redhead.  And I know how you are about redheads."

   "I, uh..."

   "You left Robbie and me sitting here to go off and be with her."

   "I, uh..."

   The door closed.

   I couldn't believe it.  Three years in a row.  Just when things were
going good with Tami, fate drops a bomb in my lap.  Three years in a row.
This couldn't be happening.

   The door opened.  "Tony, breathe."

   "I, uh..."

   "If you can complete a full sentence, you can come in."

   "It's damn cold out here," I managed to stammer out.

   Tami opened the door wide and literally pulled me inside.

   I knew I had to be careful.  I had to explain this right.

   Tami fell against me, her mouth pressing to mine, and she guided my
hands to comfortable spots on the seat of her jeans.  "God, I missed you,"
she said when we came up for air.

   "Tami, about last night..."

   "Before you stick your size ten-and-a-half squarely in your mouth, I
know all about last night."

   An intelligent person would have accepted that and kissed her again.  An
idiot would have accepted that and just held her.  "Tami, about Allie..."

   "Tony, at the ungodly hour of nine o'clock, Paula was here telling me
and Robbie how you'd shown up at the party, found Allie, and taken her out
of there.  She practically made it sound like a hostage rescue mission."

   I decided I owed Paula a thank you.  A big thank you.  Jewelry might be
involved.

   "Then about noon, after Robbie left, Allie showed up.  She was looking
for you, but she told me how you rescued her twice last night."

   "Twice?"

   "Once from her parents."

   "Oh."

   "We had a long talk."

   "Oh."

   "You are a sparkling conversationalist today," Tami said with a grin.

   "Does this mean you two are friends now?"

   "I wouldn't go that far.  Let's just say, we've gone from mortal enemies
to run-of-the-mill antagonists."

   "I guess that's a start."

   "You're my hero, you know."

   "Please!  I had enough hero this year.  I was just doing a friend a
favor."

   "Okay, you're my knight in shining armor."

   "That's worse."

   Tami looked surprised.  "You don't want to be a knight in shining
armor?"

   "Not enough babes."

   "Knights don't get babes?"

   "I don't think so.  Can you imagine what they smelled like after riding
around in a tin can all day?"

   Tami laughed.  "You got a point."

   "Of course, when they got back to the castle, maybe they had the
upstairs scullery maid give them a bath."

   "That sounds like a hint.  Would you settle for the downstairs scullery
maid and a shower?"

   "Well, I did get all hot and sweaty, walking all the way here from my
house.  In a raging blizzard."

   "Raging blizzard," Tami repeated, looking out the window at the clear
skies and bright sunlight.

   "Your bathroom, or your mom's?"

   "Mom's is bigger, but it would feel really weird.  Mine is kinda small."

   "Cozy is good," I said with a grin.  "Cozy is very good."



   Chapter 14

   It was after ten before I dragged myself out of bed.  But since it was
the first day of Christmas Vacation, that wasn't bad.  Actually we don't
get Christmas Vacation anymore.  It was winter break.

   Maybe Tami was still in bed and I could go join her.

   There'd been a dance at the high school last night, and Robbie and I had
gone for awhile to perform with the band.  Then we met Tami and Ashley at
Robbie's house for a party of our own.  Mostly Risk and some dancing and
making out.  It was a nice way to start the holidays.

   I turned off my radio and was getting ready to take my shower when I
noticed the noise of the television coming from the living room.  That
surprised me.  Traci must be up, but she'd gone to the dance at the middle
school and hadn't gotten home until midnight.

   I figured I'd go in and say hi to her before I grabbed a shower.

   "Mom!  What are you doing here?"

   "I live here, if that's okay with you."

   "It's just...  Are you sick?  You should be at work."

   "I'm fine, thank you.  And I figured that if you got the day off, I
should too."

   Mom playing hooky?

   "Uh, okay."

   "And what would you like for breakfast?  Your usual omelette with
everything?"

   "Sure.  I'm gonna grab a quick shower."

   "It'll be ready when you are," she said, turning off the talk show and
getting up.

   "Okay," I said and retreated to the bathroom.

   I turned on the water and stepped under it, even before it warmed up. 
Fact one, Mom was home when she should have been working.  Fact two, Mom
was making me breakfast when she had stated many times I'm old enough to
fend for myself.  Fact three, Mom was making me an omelette, and it wasn't
my birthday, Christmas Day, or the day after a really good report card. 
Fact four, Mom seriously hated omelettes.  Fact five, Facts one through
four didn't add up.

   The water was just getting comfortable when I stepped out and started
drying myself off.  Something was going on.

   "That was fast," Mom said when I came out, dressed in jeans and a
turtleneck sweater.

   "Should I wake Traci for breakfast?"

   "Your dad took Traci shopping an hour ago."

   Fact six, Dad was shopping when he should have been working.  Fact
seven, Dad hates shopping, especially with Mom or Traci.  Fact eight,
somebody had to be dying.

   Mom brought out a huge platter loaded with a giant omelette, hash
browns, and both link sausage and bacon.  I had to be dying.

   But I hadn't been to the doctor.  No, I went a month ago, just before
football ended.  I'd hurt my ankle and he took an x-ray.  But an x-ray
wouldn't show a tumor or anything like that.  Would it?  And people don't
get tumors in their ankles.  I was pretty sure they didn't.

   But if I wasn't dying, it had to be somebody close.  Mom, or Dad, or
Traci.  They all looked good.  Traci couldn't be dying; she went to a dance
last night.

   "You haven't touched your food," Mom accused.

   "Sorry, I was thinking." I picked up a fork, and started pushing food
around my plate.

   "We need to have a talk."

   Something about the way she said that made me think she'd used the wrong
article.  Not a talk, The Talk.  Damn, Mom wanted to talk about sex.  Now I
wished I were dying.

   I took a forkful of hash browns and shoveled them into my mouth.

   "We need to talk about sex."

   Damn!  Damn!  Damn!  Fuck!  Fuck!  Fuck!  "Moooommmm!" I protested
around a mouthful of food.

   "It's time," she said flatly.

   "Dad and I have had this talk." I took a bite of omelette.  "Three
times," I added.  Once in California, when he or Mom noticed I was spending
more and more time with girls.  Once just after we'd moved.  And once last
year.

   "Tell you what.  If you can honestly tell me that any one of those talks
was more than twenty words, I'll let you eat in peace."

   I really wanted to lie to my mother, but I doubted Dad's talks were
twelve words each time.  If you subtracted twenty minutes of hemming and
hawing, it came down to 'Don't get anybody pregnant, ' and 'Don't catch the
clap or something worse'.

   I looked down at my plate and kept eating.

   "That's what I thought.

   "Mom, we don't need to do this."

   "Yes, we do." I knew finality when I heard it.  A judge reading a death
sentence wishes he had Mom's finality.  Of course, he could get overturned.
Not even the Supreme Court could help me.

   "I'm not going to ask if you've been sexually active."

   Thank you, God.

   "And I'm not going to ask with who."

   Thanks again.

   "But we are going to have a nice long talk about sex, and babies, and
other fun stuff like syphilis, gonorrhea, and AIDS."

   I really didn't like the way she said 'long.'

   "I'm not complaining." Like hell, I'm not.  "But why today?  What made
you take a day off work for this?"

   Mom chewed her lower lip, looking thoughtful.  "Uh, last night..."

   I tried to think what I'd done last night at the dance that might have
gotten back to Mom.  I may have kissed Robbie, but that was it.  Nothing
major.

   "At the dance..." she continued.

   Damn, nothing happened.  Unless Parker was trying to make problems by
making stuff up.

   "Mrs.  Richland..."

   Mrs.  Richland?  She wasn't at the dance.  She was the home ec teacher
at the middle school.

   "...  caught Traci with her tongue in a boy's mouth and his hand up her
shirt."

   "Traci?  My sister, Traci?  She's just a kid!"

   "So are..." Mom bit off her sentence before she could finish, but we
both knew where she was going.

   "Traci wouldn't do that." Hell she was a kid.  A little kid.  She was...
I had to think about it.  Eleven.  Eleven-year-olds don't...  Of course,
Kelly was eleven.  And she and I...  But, that was different.  Traci
wouldn't...  "Are you sure?"

   "Mrs.  Richland seemed pretty sure."

   "Again, not complaining, but shouldn't Traci be sitting here?"

   "She will be, this afternoon.  While you take a long afternoon somewhere
else."

   I still couldn't believe it.  Traci!

   "Now, let's talk about babies..."

   "I need a favor," I asked Tami in her living room, two hours later.

   Tami giggled.  "Does it involve my tender young body?"

   "Just your mouth."

   "And just what did you want my mouth to do?" she asked, patting my
crotch.

   "Talk to my sister."

   "Talk to your...  I don't even know Traci.  Just to say hello."

   "I just spent a very, very uncomfortable two hours talking to my mom."

   "Why was it...  ?  Oh, the talk."

   "The Talk."

   "Did she ask...  ?"

   "She made a point that she wasn't going to ask if I was sexually active.
Which means she's pretty sure.  And a point that she wasn't going to ask
who with, which probably means she has you and Robbie pegged."

   "Does she know...  ?"

   "That I'm still with both of you?  I don't think so.  And if she knew
about Mikee and Kelly, I don't think I'd be here right now."

   "What does all this have to do with your...  with Traci?"

   "Apparently she and Dad felt it necessary to take the day off and set
this up, because last night Traci got caught with a hand up her shirt, and
it wasn't hers."

   "Whose?"

   I laughed.  "You know, I was so surprised, I forgot to ask."

   Tami laughed and shook her head.

   "I don't think Mom would have told me if I had asked.  Little sister's
privacy and all that."

   "So, who's she been going out with?"

   "Going out?  I didn't even know she liked boys."

   "Brothers!"

   I grinned and shrugged.

   "So why am I having a talk with Traci?  Won't your Mom?"

   "Yeah, she's planning it for this afternoon, after Traci gets back from
shopping with Dad."

   "So why do I...  ?"

   "Traci's a pretty good kid, though I'll never admit that to her.  But
like most kids, she's capable of shutting out parent-talk at will."

   "So how much of the talk did you shut out?"

   "About sixty percent," I admitted with a grin.  "But I already knew all
this stuff.  I don't know if Traci does."

   "Okay, I'll talk to her.  But I don't know how much she'll listen.  I
have a handicap almost as big as being a mom.  I'm big brother's
girlfriend."

   "Thanks, Tami.  I'm just figuring out how to be a brother.  I'm not
ready to be an uncle."

   "You know, you could talk to her too."

   "I plan to."

   "She's going to feel ganged up on."

   "Good!  She's too young to be doing this kind of stuff."

   Tami just looked at me and shook her head.

   "And if I find out who was pawing her..."

   "You'll do nothing!"

   "Nothing?"

   "Not if you ever want to touch this tender young body again."

   "Nothing.  Unless he hurts her."

   "Then it's open season," Tami agreed.



   Chapter 15

   "Are you mad at Tami?" Traci asked, looking out the big picture window
in the living room.

   "Nope, she's mad at me.  Why?"

   I'd floated the idea of a threesome with Robbie Friday night, treating
it as a joke, and she hadn't taken it well.  It was Sunday and she still
wasn't talking to me.  I figured I had about two more days before I was
forgiven.

   "Well, I didn't know if you'd care."

   "Care about what?"

   "The car."

   "What car?" I felt like I was in an Abbott and Costello routine that
wasn't working.

   "There's a car that's been circling the park.  Seven or eight times.  It
slows down in front of Tami's house."

   "Maybe it's not Tami's house.  Maybe they're checking out the Temples.
Or those people across from Tami, the Westons?"

   "The Westlakes are across from Tami," she corrected.  "The Simpsons are
across from the pool and the Taylors across from the Temples." It always
amazed me that Traci knew everybody in the park.  "Could be, I suppose. 
There they go again."

   I walked over and stood next to my sister.  The car, a brown four door
sedan, drove past our house, then slowed as it went past Tami's, speeding
up when it got to the Temples'.  I watched it's tail lights until it turned
onto Patty Duke Way and disappeared.

   I looked at my watch.  It was almost nine.  Very strange.

   "Do we have any kind of neighborhood watch?"

   "Mrs.  Dugan, up on Annette Funicello," Traci said proudly.  She liked
knowing things I didn't know.

   "Do we have her number?  I think I'll call if they go around again."

   "It's on the call board.  Why's Tami mad at you?"

   The call board was our family bulletin board next to the refrigerator. A
corkboard with a hundred-odd pieces of paper tacked to it.  With luck, I'd
find the number by March.  It was February twelfth.  Three days past my
birthday.

   "I made a bad joke," I explained.

   "You should be nice to her." Traci and Tami had gotten closer since Tami
had her version of The Talk with her.  Both of them refused to tell me
anything about it, though I had learned the boy with his hand up Traci's
shirt was Gary Rogers, who'd been history since the middle of January.  I
think Brian Lewis was the current interest, but it was hard to keep track.

   "I am nice to her.  It was a joke."

   "You should...  he's back."

   The car was just turning onto our street.

   "I'm going to give Mrs.  Dugan a call, see what she thinks." I started
for the kitchen, wishing Mom or Dad were here, but they'd gone to dinner
with friends.

   "He's stopping," Traci announced.

   I went back to the window.

   The car had parked in front of Tami's house.  The door opened, and in
the light from the car, I saw a big man get out.  The image of King Kong
flashed through my mind before the door closed and he was wrapped in
shadow.

   "I'm going to take a short walk."

   "Mom said to stay here with me."

   "I'm going to take a short walk," I repeated.

   Traci nodded, then went back to looking out the window.

   I walked to the door, hesitated, then went to my room.  When I came back
I was carrying my favorite baseball bat.  I noticed Traci looking at me
funny.  "Walking stick," I told her.

   She nodded, then returned her gaze to the window.

   I stepped outside and a cold wind attacked me.  I hadn't gotten a
jacket. Staying on our side of the street, I walked slowly toward Tami's
house, the bat on my shoulder.  There was some snow left on the grass, but
the streets were completely clear.

   I got to the Westons' house--no, Traci said it was the Westlakes'--and
looked over at Tami's.  The curtains in the front window were drawn.  I
couldn't see anything.  I crossed the street next to the car, noticing in
the dim light that it had an airport sticker on the license.  I wondered if
it was a rental.  I said the license number to myself a couple of times,
committing it to memory.

   As I passed in front of the car I could see in the side window.  Tami
was sitting on the sofa.  I couldn't see her face, but her body looked a
little strange, rigid.  Her mom and King Kong were standing in the middle
of the living room, talking.  I guessed everything was okay.  She seemed to
know him.

   I decided that I'd walk to the end of the street and back, check again,
and if everything looked normal, go home before I froze to death.

   As I walked I noticed that several houses had GO REBELS signs in their
front windows.  The Girl's basketball team was undefeated, and the most
recent poll in the Seattle paper said they were the number one team in the
state.  I hoped they'd go all the way.  It'd been awhile since our school
had won a championship.

   I walked back, and the scene in Tami's living room looked unchanged.  I
took the bat off my shoulder and held it in front of me, grinning to myself
and feeling stupid.  I guessed the hero thing had gone to my head.  I
nodded goodnight to the back of Tami's head and decided to go home.

   As I started to step around the car some movement caught the corner of
my eye, and I looked back.  The stranger had grabbed Mrs.  Sharp by the
throat and pushed her against the wall and was slapping her with his other
hand.

   A smart person would have run home and called nine-one-one.  An even
smarter one, would have brought the damn cell phone with him.  Me, I ran to
the porch, jumped to the top stair, and yanked the door open.  I was in the
house before I had a chance to think what I was going to do.

   The bat was still in my hand, so I swung it hard against King Kong's
back.  It was a short stroke, without the power I wanted to have, but it
made a satisfying THUCK sound and the stranger went down to his knees,
letting go of Tami's mom, then fell to the side.

   I dropped the bat and rushed up to Mrs.  Sharp, who was rubbing her
throat.  "Are you okay?"

   She nodded, without enthusiasm.

   "Daddy!" I heard and spun to look at Tami.  She was standing, her eyes
wide with...  shock...  fear?

   "That was stupid boy." I spun further.  The stranger was sitting
awkwardly on the floor, a revolver in his hand.  I noticed an empty ankle
holster on one of his legs.  I thought those were just in the movies. 
"Assaulting a police officer."

   A police officer?  Tami called him Daddy.  Her dad was a cop and
pointing a gun at me?

   "You're going to jail for a long time."

   Jail!  Hell, I could barely survive detention.

   "And you're going as a cripple." He cocked the gun.  The click was
amazingly loud.  At least it seemed that way when your whole attention was
focused on the hole in the barrel pointed at you.  My mind raced, but not
usefully.  Most revolvers are thirty-eights, right?  That's thirty-eight
hundredths of an inch.  Just over a third of an inch.  So why did that damn
hole look so big?

   "Bill!"

   "Daddy!"

   I heard at the same time.

   "Shut up!" he shouted.  He looked over at Tami, "Sit down." she did. 
"You too," he told his wife, and she moved over and sat next to Tami,
putting her arm around her.

   "Who are you, anyway?"

   "Tony.  Tony Sims.  Tami's boyfriend."

   A funny look crossed his face, and I wondered if it would have been
better to say Tami's neighbor.

   "So, little Tami has a boyfriend.  Just what have you been doing to my
little girl Tony Sims?" he asked as he climbed to his feet.  The way he
grimaced, I guessed his back didn't feel too good.

   "What Tami and I do together, or don't do together is none of your
business," I said, a lot more bravely than I felt.  But he was a cop; he
wouldn't shoot me.

   "She's my little girl.  That makes it my business."

   I stayed silent.  I tried to glare at him, but my eyes kept coming back
to that hole.

   He looked over at Tami.  This is the part when the hero would leap
forward and wrestle the gun out of his hand.  I didn't move.

   "What about it, Princess?  Just what sort of perverted stuff does this
little punk do to you?"

   "Daddy, I love him!"

   I had a feeling this wasn't the best time for that particular
declaration.

   "So you raped my little girl.  And assaulted a police officer.'

   "No," was all I could manage to say.

   "I'm going to blow your fucking knee off.  Then I'll call the sheriff
and tell him how you attacked me for no reason, and you, little
motherfucker, will spend the next ten years hobbling around a prison with a
cane."

   I wanted to say something about my relationship with my mother being
perfectly normal and non-physical, but my mouth had gotten so dry that the
words wouldn't come.  And that damn hole looked even bigger.  "Tami
will..." I managed to croak.

   "Tami and her mother will say exactly what I tell them to say.  Then
we'll have a little talk about how much it hurt when they ran away."

   That explained a lot.

   "Now..."

   "Lay the gun down!" shouted a new voice.

   I looked at the open door.  A uniformed cop was standing there, his gun
pointed at Daddy.  That's when I realized I'd been holding my breath and
let it out.

   "I'm a cop," King Kong said.  "I.D.'s in my back pocket."

   "Right now, all I want to see is that gun on the floor."

   Daddy--Mr.  Sharp? -"used his thumb to uncock the gun, then extended his
arm straight out and laid the gun on the floor.

   "Now, on your knees, hands behind your head."

   "I'm a cop," King Kong repeated.

   "Right now you're a suspect who was holding a gun on a teenager and
telling him about blowing off his knee.  I know Tony, I don't know you.  On
your knees!"

   That was when I realized that the cop was Mr.  Boyd, who lived in the
park.

   King Kong gave me an unpleasant look, then sank to his knees.  The cop
stepped forward and flicked a handcuff around one wrist, then pulled his
arm behind his back and clicked the other cuff to his other wrist.  Just
like in the movies.  A car skidded to a stop out front.  It was a police
cruiser.

   Another officer came in, surveying the scene.

   Mr.  Boyd--Officer Boyd?  Deputy Boyd? -"stood King Kong up and pulled
his wallet out of a back pocket.  He flipped it open.  The only thing I saw
was a shiny police badge, just like on Law and Order.  Shit!  I really
attacked a cop.  That was probably worse than mouthing off to a vice
principal.

   "What happened?" deputy Boyd asked.

   "This punk rushed in here and..."

   "Quiet!" Boyd ordered.  He pointed at Tami.  "What happened?"

   Tami swallowed.  She looked at her mom, then her dad, then me, officer
Boyd, then back again.  She swallowed again and seemed to make a decision.
"My dad was beating up my mom.  Tony tried to stop him."

   "You little bitch!  I'll teach you to..."

   Officer Boyd clamped his hand on King Kong's neck and squeezed.  King
Kong shut up.

   "Bert, take this..." he hesitated, "fellow officer to the station.  Book
him for domestic assault and assault with a deadly.  Tell the lieutenant
I'll be in with the report as soon as I can."

   The other officer led King Kong out the door and shoved him in the back
of the police car.

   The story took about a half-an-hour to get out, with Tami doing most of
the talking and her mom looking mostly embarrassed.

   They had moved from Aurora, Colorado, where Daddy, Bill, was a cop. 
He'd been beating on Tami's mom as long as Tami could remember.  It had
been reported, but since Dad was a cop, nothing ever happened.  They
finally had enough and moved here without letting anyone know where they
where.  Tami stressed that her Daddy had never hit her, though.

   Tami's mom was bolder when it came to telling about my part in this. 
She told Officer Boyd that Bill had been choking and hitting her, and I had
charged in and hit him once with the bat before Bill had drawn the gun.

   "Will you press charges?"

   "Will you do something about it?" she countered.

   Officer Boyd walked me out a few minutes later.  "There's a fine line
between brave and stupid."

   "And I was a long way on the wrong side of the line," I told him.  "I'm
just amazed I didn't wet myself."

   He grinned and held out his hand.  I shook it.  Then I noticed there
wasn't another police car.  "Where's your car?  How did you get here?"

   "Your sister called me at home as soon as you walked out the door.  I
was just getting ready to go to work."

   "She's the smart one in the family," I admitted.

   "That's what I think too."

   Traci's birthday was in March.  A week after Tami's.  I didn't know
what, but Traci was getting a hell of a present this year.