I REMAIN UNCONQUERED! Invictus Maneo!

Invictus Maneo:

I REMAIN UNCONQUERED

Friday this week was St. Baldrick’s at where I work.  Our fundraising goal was set at $3000 for the event.  We’ve done more in the past, but this year I figured we’d start low and if we went over, even the better.  One of my ‘deals’ that I made with the students was that the top three students would get to shave my head, trim my goatee or dye my hair.  I also promised not to trim or cut my hair from Thanksgiving on. 

My female relations and friends protested this agreement, but as I explained to them.  Children who have cancer endure so much; we can all endure this obstacle.  So my hair grew.  It grew long and out of control.  It got to the point that I would comb my hair before I left for work only to have a completely disorganized mess by the time I got there.  My goatee made me look like a distant cousin of ZZ TOP or the Roberts Family.  But I endured these obstacles and would remind my friends, family and coworkers – Kids who have cancer suffer so much more….

One fateful day I was having a conversation with my good friend and fellow administrator Barbara Z.  I mentioned to her that I desperately wanted to wear a kilt for St. Baldrick’s.  We’ve bandied about the idea for some time, me talking about it wistfully, her and others with that hint of a knowing smile of – oh yeah, that WOULD be crazy!  Looking on-line one day I found a website that would make my size and it would look awesome!  However, the cost was easily in the $300 range – immediately it was out of range for me.  And then Barbara made her mistake.  She offered to make one for me.  She was hooked!  There was no going back now. 

I mentioned my plans to those who know me and immediately they cringed with fear.  “No, please tell me you’re not.”  But we were committed. 

A trip to Wally World with Barbara and her daughter Amanda and we had selected the fabric and the assorted odds and ends for the sash and kilt.  We were on our way.  Barbara said it took her seven hours to do it – I’m willing to believe that it was longer than that – closer to 10 at least.  So Thursday before the event rolled around and I brought the finished kilt home.  Before I went to bed I put everything on, the socks, shoes, kilt, shirt, sporran and pins.  I saw what I looked like.  Yep, that was a kilt! 

The fabric for the kilt wasn’t some traditional tartan.  Yes, my family can trace a legacy back to the homeland; but no – This was not my family tartan.  The fabric was a pattern based on IRON MAN!  It had a pair of Iron Man suits flying in a blue field of comic.  It wrapped around my waist and fit perfectly.  The Velcro held it tight against me, the belt loops painstakingly stitched on and the pleats fitted to the right spots on the kilt all worked to make me look like – well an IRON MAN Highlander! 

The next morning I was determined to go to school like this.  I put everything on, got dressed and there I was.  And suddenly I had cold feet. 

Me wearing my Iron Man
Kilt and hair teased out!

People would laugh at me.  I was sure of that.  I hadn’t even bothered to comb my hair, Kim G. who was going to tease my hair out said it would be better if I didn’t wash it – so it was a disorganized bed head mess  (I did wet it a bit because it didn’t feel right not to.)  I would look like an idiot and the laughing would make me feel embarrassed.  I thought of all the silly things I had done – this was right up there.  I usually don’t care about my self-image.  I’m overweight and not Mr. Handsome – but I am me and usually I just don’t care as long as I’m suited nicely – well this was different than having a nice suit on. 

I tried to remind myself that refrain from before – Children who have cancer go through so much more.  It wasn’t enough to dispel all the butterflies, but it was enough to get me out the door or at least headed towards it. 

I was driving to school that morning, and the butterflies returned in full force.  Sitting in the truck as we drove down my dirt road and then out onto the connecting roads I wanted to turn around.  Every morning I stop to get my breakfast.  I order the same thing every day from the same place and yes I am a creature of habit – but so was Einstein and my rocket scientist father – so it’s a sign of genius – thank you!  

But today I WAS NERVOUS.  They would laugh at me; people there would laugh at me.  I would be a laughingstock. 

And I thought about kilts in general.   They have a strong tradition.  They were used by those of the Scottish Highlands to represent their families and clans.  To wear them was to honor them.  In many circumstances the kilts were worn to battle to defend their families and traditions.   At one point in the history of the kilt, they were banned from use because the British government tried to suppress the highland culture.  The kilt was associated with fighting to protect the clan and the culture of their people.

Strangely, it filled me with purpose.  That’s what I was doing now.  Fighting cancer in the way that I could, revving up my students and co-workers to help fight cancer.  And YES WE DID!  Early counting shows that we nearly doubled our original effort.    My trepidation from the morning was gone.  I did not give in to my fear and got my breakfast wearing my kilt – and YES I was asked and then I told them why I was wearing it.  I showed up at the school and every student stopped and stared as I passed their classroom throughout the morning.  But I wasn’t worried anymore – I was energized

Later, while I was walking around the gym, my hair half shaved off- the rest teased up and painted pink, yellow and green.  I was a walking advertisement to enlist others.  Three students volunteered and got permission from their parents.  The school cheered on everyone who did it.  I had to convince my principal to not shave her head because one of us had to appear to be sane – and from my hairdo before and after I was clearly the crazy one!   

I REMAIN UNCONQUERED

!  Invictus Maneo!

The FALL - The Final Part

The FALL

Final Part

And then that last image replayed itself again.  Clarice hadn’t moved to catch me nor had she acted surprised as I crashed into the water.  And then I remembered.  Randall’s other hand had been cupping my wife’s fanny.  My best friend, the man who I entrusted with so many pieces of my life, was holding firmly and decidedly onto my wife’s rear end.

Clarice, my loving wife, held something in her hand.  What was that in my wife’s hand?  The image within my head focused on something white which her hand wrapped around, like a ball, its whiteness marred by a fresh mark of redness which marked its round image. It was the cue ball from the pool table on one of the lower decks of my yacht.  We had spent hours playing pool as my yacht wandered the world, Randall would often play pool till late at night with Clarice while I slept.  Or if I was getting ready for a webcast from my office on the yacht I would often here the two of them banging away at the balls on the deck below mine. But looking at the image now I knew instantly what the red substance was, it was my blood. 

The whiteness of the ball intensified, hiding the blood.  The whiteness turned into a bright light, I could feel myself fading.  My arms and legs moved automatically, trying to get to that light, my instincts the only thing giving power to my limbs.  I knew what that light represented; the freedom from the betrayal that I felt in my heart.  It would be a warm embrace, welcoming and refreshing for the betrayal that I felt in my heart. 

She had hit me on the head.  How could she have done that?   She had tried to kill me, and now she would succeed. My wife and best friend had betrayed me and now I was doomed and free.   Doomed because I was a dead man, but free of her and Randall’s treacherous behavior.  Free to live in Heaven, away from the evil that had penetrated my house.  My poor mother, she was right.  It was true, mothers were always right.

My hand reached out for the light.  With my last bit of strength I reached out towards the light, embracing the freedom and doom.  I felt the Angel of Death grab my hand and pull me towards the light.  I was finally going to be released from this prison.

My head crested above the surface of the water. I took in a breath of fresh air, and began to cough.

“I got him, Detective,” a voice said as I felt strong male hands grab me from under my arms. “He’ll live.”  With a sudden pull I was yanked from the water, coughing and hacking up my insides.  I was on my knees and palms, water cascading down from my body as I began to feel the hot summer sun shine down on me.  And life. 

But what life would it be without Clarice, and knowing that the two people I trusted the most had betrayed me and almost gotten away for it.  Looking around I could see the nearby piers stretching back towards the land.  My yacht had docked the night before, snugged in behind some of the large cruisers along Miami Harbor.    The Passport Office sat higher than the rest of the piers, surround by the palm trees decorating the dock areas.   Behind me West Island Park blocked the horizon, giving me a view of the park.  My yacht sat on the edge of the pier, the perfect spot for me to be dumped into the water.  The bulk of the yacht hid their plotted murder scene from the shore and the lack of traffic during this early in the day prevented any possible witnesses.

“How?” I struggled to get out as I continued to cough and hack at the water still within me.  “How did you know?”  More coughing caused me to spit.

“Seems your mama must have heard them talking about it,”  The one officer said as he put the handcuffs onto Clarice.  “Seems this one has some type of liking to talking dirty on the phone and left a rather detailed message on your mama’s answering machine when she butt called her yesterday.” 

“Yeah,” said a third officer as he handcuffed Randall.  “They were doing A LOT of talking,”  the officer winked.  “If you know what I mean?” 

“Can it rockie.” The first officer said. “Seems it was a turn on to off ya,” the first officer said as he patted me on my back. “Sorry buddy, but at least your mama reached out to us and somebody down at the station finally believed her.”

“More like they got tired of her screaming and threatening them over the phone,”  the officer who had handcuffed Clarice said. 

“Nothing worse than an irate mom,” The first officer said as he helped me to sit along the lounge chair on the forward deck.  “She said she would do things to the Desk Sargent that I haven’t heard a longshoreman say to his worst enemy.”  

Coming Soon!

Hey Everyone,
Sorry I have been the absent blogger this week.  Some stuff dealing with on this side of the computer.  I got a little over focused on some other things.  Didn't forget you - just got side tracked.  I apologize and promise to come back this Thursday with the last piece of the FALL!  It's a good one.  I hope you can't wait as much as ME!!

Till then - in the words of the Great STAN LEE!!

EXCELSIOR!

And fear not true believer - Sunday Scribble will RETURN!!!

The FALL (part 2)

THE FALL (PART 2)

Click to read the first part of THE FALL

She loved me so much that when my mother told me that Clarice was nothing but a cold blooded gold-digger who only wanted my money.  I stopped talking to my mother for a month.  And when I finally did start talking to her again, I told her that if she ever said anything bad about Clarice that my mother would never – ever hear or see me again and that she would not get a dime of my money.

That was the end of it because my mother told me that she could never stomach seeing a gold-digger like Clarice rob me, ruin me and destroy me.  She told me that it just wasn’t in her to witness such a tragedy.  That was the last time I told to my mother.  Which was a shame because I knew that my mother and Clarice had talked over the phone and that Clarice had always come out of her room after talking to my mother with the largest smile on her face.  So, maybe there was room for forgiveness in my mother, maybe there was hope. 

I knew my mother was talking to her because in secret I was checking my wife’s phone records.  I knew it was wrong of me.  After all didn’t I trust my wife?  But my mother’s comments had sparked something inside me, after all, she was my mother and still held a powerful sway over my thinking. 

Boy, was I glad when I saw that the only people that my wife was talking to me was Randall and me.  And didn’t you know it, I found that just yesterday my mother had gotten a call from Clarice, that was when she had come from her private cabin, with that big smile on her face.  It must have been because she was trying to cook up a surprise reunion for my mother and me. 

Poor Randall.  It was Randall who had not been having any luck with the woman.  True, he would bring them around, but they seemed more like showpieces to help assuage his ego, allow the fiction of thinking he was still “getting the girl”. We never chided him, nor made him feel inadequate. In fact we praised him for it.  Clarice had just told him the other day that she was glad that he had not just any woman.  That all the girls he had brought home were nothing more than trollops and skanks, not worthy of dating such a “fine man” as he. 

Here I am in the water, slipping further into unconsciousness, my life flashing before me.  Thinking of all the mistakes I had made, the regrets, the hopelessly lost moments I would want to retrieve and redo.  All of this, while darkness began to overcome my vision.  My mind drifting back to those last few moments before I feel back.  Poor Randall, I thought again.

And then that last image replayed itself again.  Clarice hadn’t moved to catch me nor had she acted surprised as I crashed into the water.  And then I remembered.  Randall’s other hand ...

Part 4: The Final Installment of A FELLOW OTHELLO

PART 4:  The Final Installment of 

A FELLOW OTHELLO

Sitting in Mr. Fuddle’s office was not a good way to end any day.  Mr. Fuddle held up his mirror and looked at himself once more.  The room was packed with Rachel, Gale, Cassie, Tommy and Jimmy.  Mr. Braker had just left the office, after explaining what he had witnessed. 

“So who wants to start,” Mr.Fuddle asked. “I have the rest of the day since I already suspended Jenny for what she did.”

“It’s all my fault,” Rachel said.  “I trusted a boy who I thought was good.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Mr. Fuddle said.  “Would you care to elaborate?”

“That jerk,” Rachel said pointing towards Tommy. “He gave me his mother’s necklace, or something that he claimed was his mother’s necklace.”  Her anger was sharp, if it was a movie flames would have be coming from her eyes.  “Then the jerk stole it back and gave it to her.”  Rachel pointed at Cassie.

Understanding dawned on Jimmy’s face.

“That’s not the way I think it happened,” Jimmy said after a moment.  It wasn’t long before Jimmy explained what he had seen Gale do on the bus, unraveling her sordid plan of deception. 

“Well young lady,” Mr. Fuddle said.  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I want to call my mom,” was all Gale would say, her face was drawn and pointed down at her feet.  She had been caught and there was no way out.  She had screwed up, and it was all that jerk Jimmy’s fault.  If he had just gotten off the bus and not stayed looking at her.  Then my plan would have worked. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, that middle school brain began to spin as she thought that Jimmy had stayed on the bus waiting for her.  Did he like her?  Did she like him?  Did he want to dump Jenny and date me now?  All those thoughts hovered.  And then she remembered where she was sitting.  

“I bet you do,” Mr. Fuddle said as he dismissed the rest of the students, promising to give out their punishments after he had finished with Gale.

Sunday Scribble

Sunday Scribble:  

What's in a word?

or

A History of the Flush Toilet!

The word 'crap' has many different connotations and meanings.  To some it's a good word to describe something not in the best of shape.  According to Mike Rowe (of Dirty Jobs and multiple voice overs including my ringtone of him singing Dr. Seuss's Mr. Grinch)  C.R.A.P.  means Collectibles, Rare And Precious.  While still others use the word CRAP as a term of endearment as in - "It maybe Crap, but it's all mine."  And let's not forget that it is the root of the name of the most famous plumber of all time; a person who has been mistakenly credited for creating the one invention that delineates Civilized Society from Barbaric Society -  Of course I am talking of no other than THOMAS CRAPPER.  Crapper has been correctly credited with inventing the .......BALLCOCK... which helps the flow and flushing of the ah.... crapper. Of course in old English and in parts of Great Britain today the word Crap refers to weeds, or rubbish or even chaff.  

Within the last hundred years or so the word has come to mean something as in dealing with human waste.  In the event that those of you who read this don't realize this I'm a man of history.   I soak up historical facts like a piece of bread sops up soup.  Yes, like that and then some.  I try not to be picky and discriminate about history - after all there is so much of it and it would be very easy to be selective.  Not me, however.  I enjoy hearing about the Ancient Greeks, Early Romans, Middle Age, Dark Age, Sun-Tzu, Mao, Stanley and Livingston, the Pharaohs, Olmecs, Mayans, Easter Island, Stonehenge, King Alfred the Great, Rollo, Xenophon and yes even CRAPper -  the list goes on.  

Long ago, before I had finished college but after I knew everything like a teenager, my now late mother told me of the one defining invention that separates us from the barbaric ages.  She explained how this single invention makes the world of difference in humanity's growth.  It's invention and subsequent improvements helped to prevent disease, improve lifestyles of people and changed the way that the word 'wealth' was used to define people.  

Of course the obvious avoidance of pestilence, she explained, was but the way to prevent disease.  Filth could now travele down the pipe and out of the home. No longer was the average person forced to dump their - ah crap - (i.e. rubbish, weeds and other leavings) out the window to the small gutter that ran down the street.  The gutter which would be filled up and only emptied by the next rain storm, all of which would end up in the river that ran through or by the town.  

When the diseased filth gets flushed down the crapper it flows through the pipes,down to the sewage system of the city and eventually ends up in that river.  The waste then flows down river getting mixed in with the sediment, water, river banks or simply flows to the next town.  Of course this system is only truly beneficial for those closer to the head waters of the river or those rich folks furthest from the water - so just don't go swimming.  

According to those who know, history's definition of wealth has changed repeatedly over the eons.  Early on, it was the amount of sheep or other animals which you had in your tribe as you roamed the lands. As societies settled into more structured civilizations, pasture and farm land size mattered.  This changed to include the amount of gold or precious metals you could use to shape into things to sell or use to defend yourself with - i.e. weapons of war such as the sword or pike.  Some cultures looked at the number of camels while others looked at the size and shape of your ships because it meant you could send more materials to sell on the backs of the camel or keel of a ship.  This all changed again with Crapper and his popularity among the English gentry.  

My mother explained that when Edward VII ordered Crapper to outfit one of his homes he gained national prestige and made everyone want his work, the then contemporary version of what we know more popularly in our vernacular as the flush toilet, water closet or as some know it - their reading seat - and if living the movie THIS IS FORTY (33 seconds in) - your chance to play Words With Friends.  This single act of Edward VII redefined wealth and what made you wealthy.  The flush toilet had reached it's ascendancy.  

Whatever your point of view on the word, keep in mind some simple facts.  Be thankful for Thomas Crapper, and that the word crap means more then crap.    

Until next time - make sure you check back Thursday for the conclusion of A FELLOW OTHELLO.

A Fellow Othello: Part 3

Thursday Tales Presents:

A Fellow Othello: 

(Part 3) 

To read Part 2 of A Fellow Othello Click HERE!

To read Part 1 of a Fellow Othello Click HERE!

Quickly ducking down, Gale found Rachel’s binder that she had left on the bus.  She reached into it and took out the necklace that she had watched Rachel tuck away in the front pocket of the binder.  She pocketed it and stood up.  It was then that she saw Jimmy looking back.  She wasn't sure that if he had seen her but tried to play it off.

“What,” Gale asked.

“What are you doing with Rachel’s binder,” Jimmy asked. 

“What do you mean,” Gale asked, acting dumb.  “Oh, that’s hers.  I just noticed that it was open and figured that the nice thing to do would be to close it so nothing would fall out when the bus moved.”

Jimmy looked at her skeptically, but he figured that with all the garbage she usually gave him for stupid stuff that calling her a liar would only make his day worse. 

“Sure,” Jimmy finally said and headed off the bus.  Gale followed quickly.

***

The touch tunnel was dark, which was the point of the enclosed space.  You had to crawl along the carpeted area in complete blackness, feeling your way.  Gale had positioned herself in front of Cassie, knowing she would have an opportunity to get close.  The plan that Gale had come up with was to drop the necklace into Cassie’s pocket. 

About half way she had her opportunity.  Stopping Gale asked Cassie if she would take the lead for her.  As Cassie passed Gale, she stuck the necklace into the other girl’s pocket.  Getting out of the tunnel, the sweaty group of middle schoolers met up with Mr. Breaker at the hallway.

Gale met up with Jenny who had been at the back of the line. 

“I thought you were going to wait up for me,” Jenny asked.

“I couldn’t,” Gale said.  “The people here wouldn’t let me.” She lied  “Besides I had a great idea.”

“What’s that,” Jenny asked.

“I think you should pick a fight with Cassie,”

“Why would I do that,” Jenny asked. 

“Well, because she’s going to be the next vice-president of student council,” Gale said.

“WHAT!” Jenny exclaimed, drawing the attention of those closest to her. 

“I heard Cassie bragging about it yesterday in Science, but I didn’t want to upset you.” Gale said.  “And I thought you knew already.”

Jenny angrily stormed off towards where Cassie stood, Jenny looked hard at Cassie.  Gale had positioned herself next to a group of other kids and acted as if she was engaged in talking to them.  This enabled her to be able to hear the confrontation while not seeming to notice it. 

“So, you like to brag,” Jenny said to her.  “You are such a b**ch.”

Jenny pulled her arm back and swung at Cassie.  Cassie tried to step back, but not fast enough.  The top third of Jenny’s fingers made contact with the front of Cassie’s face, turning the unprepared girl’s head sideways and staggering her. 

A moment later Jenny was able to slap with the other hand at Cassie’s face, sending the girl to the ground. Jenny took her leg back as if to kick, but was stopped by the timely intervention of Rachel who pulled the smaller girl back from Cassie.

Mr. Braker came around to the front of the group, surprise covering his face.  There was one of his better students on the ground and another standing over her read to kick her senseless.

“That’s enough ladies,” Mr. Braker said.  “Neutral corners,” Mr. Braker soon regained control of the situation. “What happened her?”

“Cassie has been running around telling everyone that she was appointed to the student council, rubbing it in my face.”  Jenny said loud enough for everyone in the immediate vicinity to hear. 

“That’s not true,”  Cassie said.

“You told Gale in science class,” Jenny yelled back.

“Is that true Cassie?” Mr. Braker asked. 

Sheepishly Cassie looked up at Mr. Braker.  His face was a stern mask, filled with anger at his school trips interruption and the embarrassment this would bring him back at school and from the people at the Planetarium. 

“Well,”  Mr. Braker said testily.  “Yes or No?”

“Yes, I told Gale,” Cassie said finally. 

“Well, I’m going to talk to the Vice Principal about this and I doubt he will still want you to be part of Student Council.” 

Jenny leaped up and clapped her hands, yelling “Yay!”

“And as for you, young lady,” Mr. Braker turned on Jenny.  “I sincerely doubt that our esteemed Vice Principal will want you to participate in Student Council at all.  In fact I suspect that both of you will be spending some quality time suspended in or out of school.” 

Mr. Braker made the two girls walk around with him after that but not before Rachel had a chance to talk to Cassie.

“I have to say I’m disappointed,” Rachel said to Cassie.

“Me too, I never would have thought that Jenny would have flipped out like that,” Cassie said. 

“I didn’t mean I was disappointed in Jenny,” Rachel said.  “I meant you.”

“Why me?” A completely shocked Cassie asked.

“Because you were running around blabbing about your appointment,” Rachel said.  “Now I don’t know if I can trust you in this position.  Being my vice-president has to be someone I can trust to keep a secret.  It seems you can’t be.”  It was bad enough that Mr. Fuddles wouldn’t want Cassie as the vice president, but neither did Rachel now.

Without another word Rachel turned and left Cassie in stunned silence.

Rachel didn’t get far before Gale intercepted her. 

“What’s the matter Rachel, you look so upset,” Gale asked.

Rachel looked at Gale, again unsure if Gale was being sincere or trying to upset her.  Rachel still wasn’t sure what had been Gale’s intention on the bus. 

“Nothing,” Rachel said, figuring that it was better to be safe rather than sorry later.

“Good,” Gale said.  “I was afraid it was about the necklace thing.”

“No, I figured you were just trying to be helpful back on the bus,” Rachel said.

“Oh,” Gale said, her face innocent.  “I didn’t mean that necklace thing.”

“What do you mean,” Rachel asked.

“I meant the necklace thing with Cassie,” Gale said.  “I figured that’s what you were talking to her about.” Gale made it look like she was trying to hold something in.  “I couldn’t help but overhear what you just said to Cassie and I thought it was related to the necklace.”

“What are you getting at,” Rachel asked.

Gale hesitated, appearing unsure how to proceed, although she knew exactly what she was doing, creating drama and scoring some attention points while getting back at Rachel for her friend Jenny.  If Gale felt any remorse at her friends loss of the vice president job on the student council, Gale didn’t show it.  She knew that in any plan there needed to be sacrifice, and after all this plan was to get revenge on a girl who was trying to steal Jenny’s boyfriend, not Gales.  It was only fitting that Jenny have some difficulty come from the plan.

“Let it out,” Rachel said, her patience clearly growing thin.

“Well, you didn’t hear this from me,” Gale began.  “But I heard that Tommy had given your necklace to,” Gale held up her left hand blocking her right hand from Cassie’s view, who still looked dumbfounded.  Gale’s finger was pointing at Cassie.

“No way,” Rachel said firmly.  “I don’t believe it.”

Gale looked over at Cassie, noticed a piece of the necklace hanging out of Cassie’s pants.  Rachel followed Gale’s look and saw the same chain.  By that time Cassie noticed the two girls staring and also followed to where they were looking and saw the same chain.  Cassie reached down and pulled the necklace from the pocket, unsure how or what she was looking at.

Rachel’s face instantly contorted into rage.  With an anger she didn’t know she had in her, she yelled and headed towards the crowd of her fellow students.  Rachel saw Tommy standing next to his friend Jimmy, she headed straight for them.  When she got there she didn’t even hesitate, she through first one punch and then a second. 

Tommy blocked the first and then the second.  Jimmy tried to intervene and was shoved back by the enraged girl.  Jimmy banged his head against the ground and yelled out.  Rachel finally connected with Tommy’s forehead, sending him back a step. 

It was then that the surprisingly strong Mr. Braker was able to hold the struggling girl back from any further punching.  Mr. Braker idly thought that it was the last time he would be coming to the Planetarium with anyone.  It was moments like this that made him hate not taking an early retirement.

A Fellow Othello (PART 2)

Want to catch up on what happened prior to Part 2?  Click HERE!

THURSDAY TALES PRESENTS:

A FELLOW OTHELLO 

(Part 2)

Tommy was trying not to make it look obvious that he was now dating Rachel.  They didn’t want anyone talking about their business.  They sat at different tables, but they were sitting so that they could look at each other, thinking the whole time that no one noticed.  Of course that was wrong.

“Did you notice,” Gale said as she leaned into Barbara so that the bigger girl could hear her.

“Notice what,” Barbara asked.

“The way the two stare at each other,” Gale said a bit of mischievousness in her voice.

“What are you talking about,” Barbara asked.

“Can’t you see how Tommy and Rachel are staring at each other,” Jenny said from the other side of Barbara.  “Like they think they’re in some vampire story.”

Barbara looked at the two; she was sitting on the other side of the table from Rachel, but far enough away so that Rachel couldn’t hear the conversation.  Turning her head she looked over at Tommy and then back at Rachel. 

“Well, I’ll be,” Barbara said as she began to stand up.  “She said that she wasn’t going to date him.”

“Yeah?” Gale said in question.  “You must be kidding.”

“We’ll just see about that,” Barbara said as she lifted up her pants, pulling them over her belly. 

Barbara was a larger girl who had a big attitude to match.  She walked with a purpose in everything she did, and this time was no different.  She stopped right in front of Rachel, blocking her view of Tommy.  Rachel looked up at the large girl standing in front of her, taking all of Rachel’s attention.

“Hi Barbara,” Rachel said.  “What’s up?”

“Don’t give me that missy,” Barbara said shaking her finger and raising her voice.  “You said you weren’t interested.”

“What are you talking about,” Rachel asked.

“You said the last time I talked to you that you weren’t interested in Tommy,” Barbara said, turning slightly to point towards where Tommy was sitting.  “Did he trick you or something,” Barbara asked.  “Or are you just some hootsie tootsie girl that goes around stealing boys.”

“No way,” Rachel said, realizing that everyone at the table was beginning to stare. “He didn’t trick me,”  she almost giggled as she continued.  “And I don’t steal boys.”

“Then why are you dating him,” Gale yelled out from down at her side of the table.

Rachel pointed eyes of poison at the girl, but looked back at Barbara.

“Listen Barb,” Rachel said.  “I value my friendship with you, but I am my own person.”  Rachel explained.  “You know my history, how people have hurt me over and over again.  That I don’t trust easily.  There’s no way that I would allow anyone to ever trick me again.”   She paused as she looked up at the towering, larger girl.  “And this is America, I can date who I want.”

Barbara put her hands on her hips, a thoughtful look crossing her face. 

“But you said you weren’t interested,” Barbara asked, her voice filled with a hint of anguish at losing a potential boyfriend.  “How can you tell me that you changed your mind?”

“Well, because I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.  I said that I wasn’t sure if I was interested,” Rachel explained. “That it would take something to convince me that he was a nice guy and not some jerk.”

“So, I take it that he did something to prove himself to you,” Barbara asked, suggesting something lewd had been done.

“Yeah,” Rachel said.  “He turned out to be a really nice guy.”

“OOOOHHHHH,” Barbara giggled and the surrounding students at both Rachel’s and Tommy’s table copied; Gale and Jenny the loudest of the group.

“That’s not what I meant,” Rachel said, blushing.  Tommy’s friend’s elbowed him and slapped him on the back, Tommy ignored them.  “I just found out that he’s not some shallow jerk like the rest of the boys in this jerkwater of a school.”

“You all shut your mouths if you know what’s good for yah,” Barbara said, her eyes of poison looking between the two tables. She needed to think of what to say and couldn’t concentrate from all the noise. “I don’t want to have to beat any of you.”

And just as quickly the moment passed.  Those who had been disturbed by the noise and commotion had already gone back to eating.  By the time the lunch monitors had made it over to the table everything had quieted down.  

***

The bus was bumping along the road on its way to the observatory.  Looking out the side windows, on a small hill was the large building that had a dome in the center of it.  There was a large parking lot in front that was filled with busses, cars and people moving towards the entrances of the building.  It looked like a giant ant hill that was alternately getting filled and emptied at the same time by worker ants. 

Sitting towards the middle of the bus in a three-seater was Tommy and Rachel.  Sitting across from them was Gale and Jimmy who were also sharing a seat.  Gale was talking to Jenny who was sitting in front of Gale. Jenny had only sat next to Jimmy to keep Rachel from seeing him.  The story was that Tommy and Rachel were dating, but Jenny wasn’t convinced, she knew better.  Gale had told her that it was just some big cover to throw Jenny off the way that Rachel was going after Jimmy.  Of course Jenny was still upset with Jimmy because she thought he was cheating on her with Rachel and he had been on that phone call with her.  In Jenny’s fourteen year old brain, that’s all that could have been going on.  Rachel was bad news and Jenny didn’t like her.   

Gale and Jenny were sitting in the aisle seat talking back and forth as if they were talking about the most important things in the world, all the while Jenny ignored Jimmy who was forced to stare out the window as they drove along. 

Gale looked over at Rachel and tried to include her in the conversation, ignoring the dirty looks from Jenny.  Gale could handle that later, and Gale was certain Jenny would approve of the taunting she would be doing.

“So Rachel, you said that Tommy had proven himself.  How,” Gale asked.  “I’m not trying to say he did anything bad, but I figured whatever he did must have been pretty spectacular for you to trust him after your past.”

Rachel looked over at Gale, trying to gauge if Gale was trying to be rude or was sincere.  Rachel decided to give Gale the benefit of the doubt, even she suspected that Gale was trying to be a snake.

“He gave me this necklace,” Rachel said, pulling a silver chain from under her shirt.  “He said it was something his mother had worn before she had died, and that for as long as we went out I could wear it because he knew that I was special like his mom.”

“Wow,” Jenny said as Gale just looked on thoughtfully, considering that Gale might be wrong. Jenny quickly discarded that idea because she just couldn’t trust Rachel.

“That’s pretty incredible,” Gale said.  “Assuming…” But Gale didn’t finish the statement. 

“Assuming what,” Rachel asked. By this time in the trip Tommy had fallen asleep, his head leaning against the window, then leaning back as the bus bounced along, moving his head.  Gale gave an extra glance over towards him to make sure that he was asleep. 

“That it really was his mother’s and not something that he picked up from Walmart,”  Gale said and then saw the look on Rachel’s face.  “Which I’m sure he wasn’t lying about that.  You would never see something that nice there.” Gale backpedaled. 

A tear pierced Rachel’s eye, but she quickly wiped it away.   Pulling the necklace off her head, she stuffed it into her binder, thinking that she didn’t want it on her in case she lost it, but knowing that it was because she wasn’t sure it was real.  Which meant that if it wasn’t real then Tommy’s feelings for her were fake.

Gale watched from her seat, Jenny marveled at her friends ability to destroy.