Forbidden Fruit
Chapter III
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Chapter Three
ladies room stall for two hours reluctant to emerge. She checked the time on
her Treo, it was a quarter to one and
everyone missed lunch and half the work workday and would ultimately blame her.
She sighed dejectedly, she deserved it. Fed up with everyone’s atrociousness
and that he needed a change of clothes, Mike held chambers with the U.F.O. team
in his office. Charlotte refrained from attending
since feeling the hostility of certain council members and Monique La Belette.
Charlotte heard the
pressurized hiss of the door opening and a pair of short bangs on her stall’s
door.
“Coast’s clear now,
Charlie.” Thank God it was Leticia.
“What’s the word?”
“It’s a go. But Mike
wants to speak to you.” Charlotte twitched again. “And I’d steer clear of the
weather woman.” Leticia further advised. “Something tells me even if you didn’t
get him wet the bitch would be ready to go El Niño on you.” Perfect. It was not
a matter of if but
‘little’ crush on her, the has-been beauty queen was going to make mincemeat
out of her. Charlotte left the ladies room and made her slow death march to the
elevators. The corridor and lobby in administration was empty which meant
everyone was still in Mike’s office.
“A fine mess you got me
into.” Charlotte said to her reflection in the elevator doors. The car dinged
signaling her stop, the third floor, and the doors parted. The council and the
La Belette family broke up in clusters leaning against either walls or sat on
the cushioned benches in the corridor leading to Mike’s office holding conical
cups from the water cooler. Herbert Stillman made a jerking motion with his
bald head and all activity stopped and attention focused on Charlotte.
“It’s
lips moved over her gnashed teeth. She had a bleached streak in her long, soft
black hair thinking she looked like Elvira when in actuality she resembled a
warped Lily Munster with an oily polymer facelift and 50 pounds heavier. Veronica’s
short black skirt had a slit on one side showing too much thigh and on her
heavy upper body was a black satin flared-sleeved top. Her long fuchsia acrylic
nails looked like talons. Tacky, chunky matching gold jewelry completed the
ensemble. Yvonne La Belette refused to meet eyes with her; while not a hair was
out of place she combed her dyed dirty blonde bob with her fingers. She wore a
tailored beige skirt suit and carried a snakeskin Coach clutch bag. Monique’s steely gray eyes followed Charlotte
like an angry hawk; she had no purse just a metallic pink Motorola Razr. She had a French manicure like her mother, only hers
was pink. Monique wore a Donna
bustier; her strawberry blonde hair was teased.
Every man
had on a clean pair of jeans, work boots and a red shirt rolled up to the
elbows. A silver Sprint cell phone
was clipped to his brown leather belt. Gerard La Belette’s suit was the most
expensive, a $3,000 dollar Armani with
a gold watch chain pulled across his thick middle. It was the stuff of Das
Petey’s dreams. Gerard, like his wife, ignored Charlotte. Tim Sanford, an
accountant, shook his head as if she were a petulant grandchild. Jerome Logan,
an attorney, nodded awkwardly at Charlotte. Jake Potter just hitched up his
pants feeling like the right fool he was.
“Hello dear,” Betsy
Carlyle muttered encouragingly to her. She wore a dark maroon skirt, taupe
pumps and a crepe floral print blouse. Her sable brown hair was permed.
Charlotte approached Mike huge, elegant oak door bearing a placard with his
title and name and raised a fist to knock when a man walked out. Charlotte
leapt backward from surprise.
“Sorry.” He apologized.
He was as tall as Mike with the same blonde hair, blue eyes and goofy smile. He
looked to be around 15 to 20 pounds heftier, she assumed him to be his brother.
“You must be Charlotte.”
“I am.”
“Mikey’s changing
though.”
“I’ll wait, then.”
Charlotte was visibly relieved.
“Oh no, the office has
a bathroom. But he is expecting you.” Time to face the music, girlfriend. Charlotte just realized he was dressed in a lab coat.
“And you are?”
“Greg Novak.” He shoved
a big hand into hers and shook it firmly. Charlotte saw his nametag appear from
the white folds of his coat, he was a dentist. “Mike’s brother.”
“Middle child?”
Charlotte inquired.
“You met Jules?” Greg
asked.
“Last night,” Charlotte
confirmed. “She was chewing his balls off.”
“Finished the coffee
again, did he?” Charlotte shrugged at Greg. “Must’ve
been the vanilla flavored… but Mikey’s always been spoiled.”
“Am
not!” Was Mike’s muffled angry reply from behind the door.
“Are
too!”
“I take it you weren’t
having dinner with your parents?” Asked
“PTA
meeting. My wife insists that we both go.”
Charlotte walked into
Mike’s office; she heard him rattling around in the bathroom and took a seat.
On the walls were a number of plaques awarded to him by various philanthropic
causes, everything from environmental groups to AIDS foundations. But they were
outnumbered by the photographs. Dozens were on the walls; his desk and the
bookshelf. In them were family, friends, classmates and people from the
community. In one of them he looked to be about six standing on the dock of
Lake Pleasant with his siblings and father baiting their hooks to go fishing. Another
featured a group of kids around thirteen wearing life preservers posing around
a river raft and flaunting oars, possibly Mike was the one taking the picture
since it was at a precarious angle. In the last one she examined he appeared to
be nineteen or twenty, his hair was shoulder-length and feathered, barefoot in
jeans wearing a bright yellow T-shirt with a Camp Tamaqua logo on it and a
counselor’s whistle strumming an acoustic guitar surrounded by kids more than likely
singing off key.
As endearing as this
all was, Mike would be laughed out of L.A. The country boy would be taken for a
freakshow or eaten alive. But here in Eden, Charlotte was out her depth. Everything
was stationary; she was unable to sleep because she could hear her brain going
at 100 miles an hour due to all the quiet and on top of that everyone here treated
her like a sick person. Maybe that was the problem.
The bathroom door
opened and Mike walked out, head down drying his hair with a white towel.
Charlotte spun around feeling like she was caught with her hand in the cookie
jar. His damp blonde hair stuck out in all directions from the humidity, he had
on a new pair of jeans and a black shirt unbuttoned including the cuffs. She
could see that Mike had no tan lines. Charlotte flushed having gotten more than
an eyeful.
“Y’know, if you really
wanted to see me with my shirt off you could’ve just asked.” Mike said. Her
mouth became rictus, but before she could rebut him Mike ducked his head back
down and continued to dry his hair sauntering to his desk. Charlotte knew not
to argue with Mike, she’d only lose face further and now that she and the team
would be filming in Eden somewhere in the ballpark between three months to a
year life was going to predictably get more complicated.
“Mr. Mayor, I want to
apologize for what happened in chambers.” Charlotte marched straight to the
point. “It wasn’t my intention to douse you like that.”
“I kinda figured that.”
Mike tossed the wet towel to a brown leather sofa against the adjacent wall. “I
really owe you the apology. Town council meetings have been reverting to
barroom brawls as of late. I’m thinking about moving them to The Cavern, it
would be the appropriate setting.”
“‘The
Cavern,’ Mr. Mayor?” Now that
sounded interesting, whatever it was.
“The Cavern’s our
watering hole. Dell’s been running it since her father died ten years ago.”
“Dell?”
“Adele Reilly.” Mike
elucidated. “She’s great, you’re gonna love her.” That actually sounded like a
feasible idea. Charlotte made up her mind to write a treatment for The Cavern,
rumors and stories about the Buxton Hall murders had to be fermenting for years
in there. “So…” Mike hooked Charlotte’s attention again. “Have you given any
more thought about me taking you out?” He snapped his cuff watch on his left
wrist and was putting on this heavy silver ID bracelet with the plate divided
into a trio of narrow bars on his right and added a few friendship bracelets.
In the hollow of his throat over sliding over the clavicles was a teardrop
ying-yang pendant hung from a silver chain.
“Your Honor, I’d like to
thank you for allowing my company to film in your town.” Cue the ‘but.’ “
would be highly unethical if we had personal interactions outside the
production.”
“Is that what they call
it now, ‘personal interactions’?” Charlotte’s hope sank like Jimmy Hoffa in his
concrete suit. Mike was undeterred. Rapping at the door saved her, it was Greg.
“Hey Mikey, they’re
gettin’ kinda restless outside.”
“Two minutes.” Mike
promised, but in the narrowing entryway Charlotte caught Monique’s glower once
again before Greg shut the door with a muted tap.
“And it wouldn’t be
right for social reasons either.” Charlotte prayed that he wasn’t completely
oblivious to Monique’s obvious possessiveness over him.
“I can’t imagine what
would be so socially incorrect about two people going out on a date.”
“I can’t either, Mr.
Mayor.” Charlotte begrudgingly acquiesced.
“Because
we’ve got our work lives and our private lives. And I’ve never felt that
I’ve lived under the microscope the entire time I’ve served in public office.
the sheets? Charlotte was about to go on the defensive when Mike got up
from behind his desk and crossed the room. “Hold that thought I’ll be right
back.” He went out into the corridor to deal with the council, Charlotte was
exasperated. The door opened again and this time Eddie Yanakis stuck his curly
black-haired head in.
“Is it safe?” He
sounded like a Clerks cast reject.
“Where
have you been?!” Charlotte exploded.
“Told
you she’d be pissed.” Callie’s voice floated in behind Eddie. Leticia,
Greta and Chris shuffled in with their heads down after Eddie and Callie. They
all had the common decency to at least look contrite.
“Where in hell were you
when I needed you?!”
from her chair and confronted her supposed friends.
“At
the water cooler around the corner- OW!” Greta smacked Chris on the arm.
“We’re really sorry
Charlotte.” Greta apologized. Charlotte gave them a stony stare in response.
“Now don’t be like
that, hon.” Leticia attempted to placate her friend. “You said it yourself,
this is small town-America and we have to cover our asses from time to time.”
“Tish, I don’t find any
of this funny.”
“Of course you don’t.
Wet T-shirt contests normally aren’t!”
“Will you cut it
Mike’s desk and folded her arms huffily. Leticia opened her mouth and let loose
a belly laugh, she ran over to Charlotte and rubbed her shoulders.
“You know I don’t mean
any of that!” Leticia said.
“Will you ever grow
up?” Charlotte snapped.
“Life’s not about
growing up, girl! It’s about having fun!”
“No it isn’t!”
“Well if I grew up with
your parents, I’d consider hara kiri.”
“Tish,
please!” Charlotte beseeched. “Can’t we just get out of here? The
mayor’s suffocating me!”
“So you were doing it!”
Callie said from the couch.
“How would you like to
find yourself on the unemployment line?” Charlotte threatened. Callie shrunk
back.
“We couldn’t leave even
if we wanted to.” Leticia informed Charlotte.
“Yeah.
Violet’s invited us to this party she’s throwing and Stan’s bringing the car so
we could take a mini tour on our way to the supermarket.” Greta filled in.
“Who is Stan?”
Charlotte asked.
“Mike’s
dad.” Eddie said meekly. Charlotte threw up her hands. It was a family
event!
“And where is this
party?” Charlotte’s teeth were set.
“At
Stan and Violet’s house.” Greta said.
“We offered our back
yard,” Callie jumped in, “but theirs is bigger.”
“I take it we’re
shopping for tonight’s vittles?”
“Hon, it’s a barbecue,
everybody’s bringing their share.” Leticia said airily.
Sunshine every day
dee dee
dee dee
dee dee
Surfer music blasted
from Stan and Violet’s Sony stereo,
though only the kids were dancing. Stan Novak, a retired structural engineer
designated himself master chef and manned his brick propane gas grill. Violet
sprinted back and forth from the kitchen and the yard like a jack rabbit toting
chicken, hamburger patties and hot dogs. The back yard and the ground floor of
the Novak’s house was jam packed with partiers. The town council brought their
families, Greg and Julianne brought their families, the La Belettes and the
U.F.O. team. Since it was an informal get-together
bothered to change from her navy blue flared wrap around skirt and white cap
sleeved blouse, Leticia was a whole other story shedding her
with a paisley wrap. Charlotte wondered why until Sheriff Deputy Drew Potter
showed up. He looked about Mike’s age, an inch or so taller than him with a
professional hockey player’s physique and longish sable brown hair.
“Yoo-hoo! Deputy Drew!”
Leticia strutted over to the noticeably shy man.
“Yeah Trish, work it!”
Chris egged Leticia on. Greta and Charlotte burst out laughing on either side
of him. Charlotte avoided Mike like the plague so she glued herself to the
cameraman and makeup artist. Charlotte sipped from a long-stem wine goblet
filled with mixed berry Arbor Mist as
Greta and Chris took pulls from Heineken
longnecks. The three of them wandered through the Novak home, an even bigger
townhouse with a front porch and a clear view of the beach. Charlotte could see
where Mike got his photo motif from; there were pictures on the mantle, the
walls and every table on the ground floor. Greta, Chris and Charlotte stopped
before the empty fireplace and looked at an 8”-by-10” of a lakeside family
vacation, Mike looked about seventeen.
“That’s Lake Tahoe.”
Chris told them.
“How can you tell?”
Greta asked.
“I take my bike up
there for a week every summer. They have a lot of resorts there.”
“Is it nice?” Charlotte
asked. Mike was doing a crazy stance with his left leg kicked up as Greg was
trying to pull him down. Julianne was in a pink and white gingham bikini with a
silk flower in her hair sexily posing. Violet wore a long peach halter sundress
and Stan held a fishing pole with zinc oxide smeared on his nose like clown
makeup.
“Very
nice.” Chris assured her.
“Look at them,” Greta
said. “That is a phenomenon that is National
Geographic worthy.”
“How
so?” Chris asked.
Greta pointed out to
the yard where the Novaks gathered around the grill bantering over the cooking food.
“A family that actually likes being together.”
Laurel Heller, the
13-year-old daughter of Julianne and pediatrician Tom Heller collapsed on her
knees to switch the CD now that the song was over. Her bright blonde hair was
held back by a lime green bandanna matching her lime and black bootstrap tank
top. Her bellbottom jeans were frayed at the cuffs and she wore sparkly green
chucks on her feet.
“Any more
“Check the mini bar
outside.” Greta advised. Charlotte slapped Chris on the back and muddled her
way through the multitudes hoping not to bump into anyone hateful. Charlotte
drained the rest of her glass. Was it getting hot in here?
Looking for you, impatiently
The new song was nice
and sounded familiar to Charlotte but all she cared about at the moment was
getting more wine cooler. She walked over to the mini bar set up on a card
table with a red and white checkered plastic table cloth and saw plenty of iced
brewskeys, assorted whiskey and wine, but when she finally came upon the
out of the Rubbermaid garbage can
conveniently blocking the gate to her rented house.
“Dammit!” She swore a
little too loudly though no one seemed to pay any mind.
“Here, try some of
this.” Charlotte saw her glass being filled with white Zinfandel by Mike.
“Thank you.” She
replied bashfully. She took a short but deep draught, her hazel eyes darting
from the obstructed gate to Mike’s cattily grinning face. Charlotte struggled
to formulate an escape plan.
“Couldn’t help but
notice that you were running on empty.” Mike made small talk to break her
concentration.
“Yeah, well, my choice
of poison’s all but dried up.” Charlotte gestured to the trash.
“Maybe you should try
out a different kind of poison.” Mike suggested.
“Change is good,”
Charlotte lamented, “but it’s not easy.” Mike’s smile somewhat
shrunk getting her message loud and clear.
“No it’s not.” He
leaned against the fence, his blue eyes finding a point in the middle distance.
“But a little nudge now and then could put you on the right track.”
Please answer me
in mind?”
It put things on the fast track, but it was a start. His old room was out since
the window faced the yard, but the beach was only a few steps away. Just before
he could propose a little stroll on the sand, a voice like a pot on his head
being struck by a spoon shot out.
“Michael Novak, have
you no shame!” Monique La Belette bounced over. She took his arm as if they
were prom king and queen and hugged it, she ignored Charlotte completely. “You
haven’t spoken to me once all night!” She mockingly reproached.
“Sorry Monique.” Mike
rolled his eyes. “But you’re the one who’s been glued to a cell phone all
night.” He pointed out.
“I know, I know.”
Monique walked her fingers up his arm flirtatiously, she garnered no reaction.
“But I don’t have to tell you about the nature of business. It’s a 24/7 thing
after all!” Her riff of laughter was like fingernails on slate.
“Uh, Monique, have you
met Charlotte Stratemeyer?” Monique prissily puckered her lips and held a fist
to her chest. She looked at Charlotte like she was a fly in her chocolate
mousse.
“Ah, yes.” She took
Charlotte’s hand and squeezed it politely before disengaging from Mike’s arm. “Miss
Stratemeyer- can I call you Charlotte?”
“If
you like.” Charlotte shrugged happy to feel the lethargy roll through
her bloodstream or she would have decked the bitch.
“Charlotte, I’d like to
apologize about my…” Monique searched her mind for the appropriate term, “
was shamefully insincere; then again what were spokespeople for? “It’s just
that I’m so unused to seeing behavior like that- from everyone in that
chamber.” She turned to Mike including him. “But I totally understand that you
have to get the ball rolling for your film and not for nothing Mike, the last
thing you need is to give
impression to the world.” Monique took Charlotte’s hand warmly in both of hers
and gave her a syrupy smile. “Which is why I have spoken to Daddy and Mamma,
and as a show of good faith to the film crew we’re going to give you full
access to our vineyard!”
to stop Monique in her tracks. This wasn’t some goddamn commercial shoot! “And
next Sunday, you’re cordially invited to a luncheon at the Eden Oaks Country
Club as guests of the La Belette family. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yeah…” Her mouth and
brain were no longer synching. What else could
“Well I’ve got to go,”
Monique waved her pink Razr. “Duty
calls. Charlotte, I’ll call you this week to set up an appointment for the film
crew. And remember Michael, luncheons and dinners at Eden Oaks are
Sunday best, or I’ll never speak to you again. Ta!” Monique departed sashaying
through the crowd, the tension in the air dissipated and Charlotte exhaled a
shaky breath.
“It would take an act
of God for her to never speak again period.” Mike said.
“How long have you
known her?” Charlotte asked.
“Since
we were in Edison Elementary. My sister is principal of that school now,
my brother has his kids in there too.”
“How old are they?”
“The triplets- Holly,
Denis and Ross- are eight.”
“Triplets?”
Charlotte’s eyes were as big as platters.
“My sister-in-law Becca
was on fertility drugs. One go,” Mike clapped his
hands, “and they were done!” Charlotte laughed. Mike made childbirth sound like
the Indy 500.
“And
the kid playing DJ?”
“That’s Laurel, my
sister’s daughter.” The teen in question was making faces at the CDs in her
grandparents’ collection. “Eighth grade,
“She looks like your
sister.” Charlotte complemented. Laurel made a reluctant decision on a CD and
slid it into the tray. She pressed PLAY.
Life
alone
far from home
care
there
“Going for the heavy
tonight, is she?” Charlotte referred to Laurel’s musical choices.
“She’s intense for
thirteen.” Mike remarked.
“Wonder where she gets
it from.”
eyebrows and went to find Leticia.
By the time she rooted
out her best friend and her newest sexual obsession, Deputy Drew looked ready
to bolt.
hardly blame him.
“I’ll… leave you two
ladies alone. Need to refresh my drink anyway.” Drew’s O’Doul’s longneck looked full.
“Oh Drew honey, you
don’t have to run away. This is just work stuff.” Charlotte patted his beefy
arm.
“You could take off.”
He nodded politely at Leticia who stared daggers at
best to thank her with his eyes.
“Thanks a lot, bitch.”
Leticia smacked
arm.
“You were sorta scaring
the shit outta him, Tish. I was just doing the humane thing.”
“Look, just because you
want to retire to an Ursuline convent doesn’t mean the rest of us do!”
“You’re funny.”
Leticia by the crook of the arm and led her into the house. “So where are we
going to start tomorrow?”
“Well since Greta’s
also our storyboard artist the best place to start is The Cavern.”
“I thought you might
say that, I already began writing a treatment for
And you could work out some negotiations with Miss Reilly.”
“Already on it, but
you’ve gotta let me have Chris. He’s got to start shooting something.”
“Done.
But I’m sending Eddie and Callie back to the real estate place to find someone
to get us up to Buxton Hall.”
“What about Grant High?
How about the victims’ families?”
temples; there was so much to do and not enough staff to do it. “We’ll need a
smooth-talker to iron out those little details. Why don’t you make nookie with
Mayor Mike, it would make our lives easier.”
“Tish!”
warningly.
hands over her face and rubbed it, she felt a hundred eyes on her, paranoid
that someone was already underway working against U.F.O. She could always lie
and blame it on the alcohol. “I will talk
to the mayor. I’m sure that he’s maintained good relationships with his
teachers for his success on the campaign trail.”
departed from Leticia in search of Mike, but he was nowhere to be found. She
swallowed her pride and went to the kitchen where she knew Violet to be.
knocked on the swinging kitchen door.
“Um,
Violet?”
“Just
a sec, honey.” She was bent over two huge pizza trays preparing more
deviled eggs. She put her spoon to the side. “What can I do you for?”
“You wouldn’t happen to
know where Mike is?”
“Oh, he and Greg just
went to Andy’s. We ran out of buns.” She explained apologetically. “Is there
anything I could help you with?”
“Maybe.”
There might be a glimmer of hope of escaping any extracurricular activities
with the mayor. “Do you know if he could contact
School
mater, and it would be wonderful if we could talk to the faculty and perhaps
some of the students for our film.”
“That shouldn’t be a
problem.” Violet reassured her. “Everyone at Grant’s real accessible. Principal
Harris- Nathaniel was Mike’s history teacher when he was at Grant. Greg’s and
could.”
“Thank you so much,
Violet. That’s such a big help.”
“No problem.” The crowd
thinned as the purple twilight sky faded to black.
reclined on the chaise lounge while her triplet cousins were down for the count
grandmother’s tulip print white sofa watching The Prince & Me on one of the cable stations.
herself a Stolichnaya vodka and
cranberry, Drew, Julianne, Tom and Becca crowded off to one side chattering
holding plastic plates of chips, and partially-eaten hot dogs and burgers.
Seated around the simmering grill in lawn chairs were Stan, Jake, Betsy’s
husband Howard, Herbert and Tim. Making civil small talk over instant
cappuccinos were Veronica and Betsy. The La Belettes were long gone having left
with their daughter. Scattered around were the council’s grown children and
grandkids along with friends and neighbors of the Novaks.
downstairs bathroom before she joined the rest of the production team out on
the front porch. Greg’s elegant white
Volvo station wagon pulled up and he and Mike unloaded the groceries. They
exchanged hurried hellos with the U.F.O. team since one of the paper bags was
ready to burst due to the melting ice. A few minutes later
out with her vodka and cranberry, the tall glass filled with ice was half
empty.
“Talked to Violet,” she
reported to her co-workers. “Grant High’s a go.”
Greg delivered his
father more hot dog and burger buns as Mike helped his mother put away the ice
and assorted provisions.
“Thank
you sweetie. Oh, Michael?”
“Yeah,
mom?” Mike squatted under the sink storing the Pine Sol and Brillo pads.
“
help organizing some interviews at Grant. Now I promised her that you’d call
Principal Harris, I looked through our address book and I don’t have his
number. Do you have it at your place?” Mike sucked his teeth and combed his
fingers through his hair thoughtfully.
“I don’t think so. You
sure you don’t have his number on your cell phone?”
“I don’t.” Violet shook
her head.
“How
‘bout Dad?”
“Now you know your
father Michael. You’re lucky he knows how to answer the damn thing.” Violet
chagrined.
“I’ll check my room.”
Outside Chris whooped
and pumped both fists. “Co-ol! Class is back in
session!”
“What’re you so
ecstatic about?”
only a high school.”
“Yeah, and high school
was the best!” Greta high fived with Chris.
“I’d go back in a
heartbeat and stay.” Callie acquiesced.
“What I’d do to go back
and crash those pep rallies…” Eddie reminisced.
“ECR had the best
dances! Remember
prodded her.
“Speak for yourself!”
“You forget that this is a whole new generation and to those kids we’re the
corny old people.”
Meanwhile Mike was
upstairs in his old room delving through his desk looking for Principal Harris’
home number to no luck. “I know you’re here.” He growled to himself. Slamming
shut the belly drawer and sitting back in his maple chair his eyes trailed
aimlessly around the pinstripe wallpaper until they came upon his Kelly green
and white Grant High pennant above his bed. “Now I remember!”
Charlotte was in full
swing delivering a new speech not caring if she was prematurely inducing the
hangover headaches.
“I’m going to say this
once, and only once. When we get to Grant, I don’t want anyone humiliating this
film company. And that means no attempts at following: cheerleading, sports, or
teaching a class. I will not have the brats make fun of us more than they
already will.”
“
have to be so sensitive about what a bunch of harebrained teenagers have to say
about what they don’t understand.” Leticia tried to
reason with her.
“Tish, these
so-called,” Charlotte made the quotes gesture, “‘harebrained teenagers’ are
smarter than you think. Furthermore, not everyone holds high school as the
halcyon days of youth. And you should know that.” Mike was coming downstairs
when he heard
from out on the porch. “Let me tell you about high school, also known as the
food chain: survival of the dumbest. First, you’ve got the activities people.
Now before you say anything Leticia, the only reason as to why I joined student
government was because that was an automatic gym credit. Back in the day P.E.
and home ec were electives, not requirements. Every day, your lunch period
would get disrupted by one of those pathetic idiots when they’d shove a sign-up
sheet under your nose for the stupidest club. Junior Audubon
Society? Marxist Youth? The activities people’s
high school careers revolved around the clubs because they had
uniform not only gave you an excuse to walk around half-naked, but it was also
the pretext for all the orgies under the bleachers and locker rooms. The more
you whored, the more popular you got. And no one ever crossed or dared pick up
a cheerleader which segues us to number three: the
varsity lettermen! Yes! Depending on the sport the guy was in, the stupider he
was. I can’t remember wasting more time in study hall than tutoring these guys.
But God, if they didn’t have athletic scholarships, it would be Skid Row for
those poor bastards. At the top of the heap you had the track team; they were
smartest in my opinion. Maybe the coordination they needed to run and jump over
hurdles or chase steeples required a higher number of brain cells, I don’t
know. Then you had the soccer team. Soccer isn’t even considered a sport in
this country, so it just may be some kind of recreational thing for the guys
who actually gave a damn about life outside the weight room. And then there was
the baseball team. When it came down to it, I think the coaches were paranoid
over the Cubans being an actual threat should there ever be a real ‘World
Series.’ So it helps if the team knew exactly where
Unbeknownst to
stiffened when she saw Mike appear in the open door behind
genuinely interested in her pity sermon.
“Then there was the
hockey team-”
“
interjected.
“Not now Callie. Where
was I? Oh! The hockey team. Now we were at an age
where retainers came out, braces needed to be changed, teeth got capped or
bleached for sweet sixteens and graduations… but this guy had partial dentures.
Partials!”
emphasis.
“
“A
minute, Callie! He took them out in front of me- I know not on purpose-
but it was so disgusting, Fixodent and
everything. And then he tries to make it better by saying, ‘Oh don’t worry.
It’s only four teeth, my parents are looking into dental implants, and I’m an
excellent candidate.’ My Swiss grandmother, who survived the Nazi occupation,
the food rationing and the war itself died at 92 with every tooth in tact. It’s
insulting.”
“
answer Callie just silenced her with a glare.
“The
basketball team. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Unfortunately they somehow manage to fall on their heads. The football team,
all I’ve got to say about them is that they were born that way.
eyebrows shot up on his forehead. Callie slapped her hands on either side of
her head then pulled her light brown pigtails at the nape of her neck. “Without
a doubt, bottom rung of the ladder. I spent the better part of a Saturday with
this one wrestler for one of our midterms on Mice and Men, while he tried to balance a pencil on his nose. And
then when I asked if he had any questions, he asked: ‘Is
States
attention to Callie who had her head buried in her knees. “Now Callie, what is
on your mind?” She was only able to point to Mike.
the balls of her feet and saw Mike holding his Kelly green and white varsity
jacket. The right sleeve’s white on green felt staggered ‘GHS’ monogram had a
narrow white scroll going across it reading ‘Daredevils.’
floor vanish beneath her.
“Well I managed to find
Principal Harris’ home number, in my old varsity jacket, and I’ll probably call
him tomorrow so we could arrange a campus visit. If you any questions, feel
free to ask.”
“I have a question.”
Leticia raised her hand. “Who are the Daredevils?”
“Grant High’s wrestling
team.” Mike kindly informed Leticia.
“Ya hear that
Charlotte!” Leticia slapped
mayor here was on the wrestling team! You know, the bottom rung?”