Chapter 20: Advancement

Wednesday, July 27, 1983

Morning assembly was short and to the point: tournament rounds were posted, so go look and get to your rooms.

Cammie and I were up against two people I didn’t know. Cammie knew the girl was from Denver, and that the guy wasn’t her regular partner.

They turned out to be pretty nice people. We got to talk for a while before the judge arrived. He came in about fifteen minutes late, puffing, and apologizing. Apparently, he’d gotten stuck behind a traffic accident.

The round itself was ... well ... easy. We ran our version of the Eyewitness Testimony case, and either our supporting evidence was better than most or their negative evidence wasn’t so good. They seemed skilled enough, but it still wasn’t a tough round.

The judge didn’t give us all that much feedback. Most of it was aimed at them, and it was more about putting stuff out there even if it was comparatively weak. Better something than nothing, after all.

Our afternoon rounds were a little tougher, but only a little. The second round was against a team from North Carolina (Janet and Nancy, two names that felt out of my past), while the third was against two guys from Virginia (Owen and Vincent). They seemed really good, and it was easily the toughest round we’d had to this point. They were obviously ready for our case, but they didn’t seem ready for us to stand up to them as well as we did.

This one went back and forth the entire time. I felt like Cammie really sold it in 2AR (Second Affirmative Rebuttal, the last speech of a CX debate), but it was a juggling act.

The judge had very little constructive criticism. He seemed thrilled with the quality of the round. We were, too.

After he’d left, we shook hands with them again.

“Damn good round!” Owen said.

“Thanks!” Cammie said.

“Yes, thanks!” I said.

Vincent said, “We hadn’t really been tested until now.”

Cammie smiled. “We hadn’t either.”

“You’re regular partners, right?” Owen said.

“Yeah. You too, right?” I said.

Vincent nodded. “We barely missed ToC last year. That’s one of the goals this year.”

Cammie grinned. “We’re already going.”

“Seriously?” Owen said.

She nodded. “We lost in semis. If you make it that far, you get an invitation. I think we’re the only team in that situation this year. As far as I can recall, the others were all seniors.”

“I wasn’t sure,” I said, “but you were reading the postings more than I was.”

“Uh-huh,” she said.

“We have this thing where Cammie reports all of the Debate-side breaks, and our friend Paige reports all of the Drama-side breaks.”

“That’s cool!” Owen said, looking at Vincent. “We should do that, Vinnie. I mean, someone should. Doesn’t have to be us.”

Cammie smiled. “I think it makes us feel like more of a team instead of a bunch of people just out for themselves looking at the posting sheets.”

“That’s how it sounded to me,” Owen said, nodding. “I take it your school is really good?”

“We’ve moved up a lot,” I said. “We took twelve people to ToC: six Debate-side, and six Drama-side. Quite a few of us did well in elims. Our one senior CX team was second at Nationals, and our best Extemper won ToC and was runner-up at Nationals.”

“Holy cow!” Vincent said. “Damn! That sounds like where we want to be.”

Cammie said, “Think team, really. I mean, Bronx Sci is good all the time, and I feel like they don’t — though that may be a mistake on my part — but we all work hard together and cheer each other on. I think that really matters. So does talent, but if we were squandering it fighting with each other...”

“Yeah,” Owen said. “I like our program, and we’re pretty friendly, but ... sometimes that feels like we’re wasting time with, you know, frivolous stuff.”

“The big secret is that most of us won’t debate in college,” I said, “and most people won’t win the big tournaments, even if someone at your school does. That ‘frivolous stuff’ is important. The most important things you get out of Debate don’t have much to do with wins and losses.”

They looked at each other.

“Easy for you to say, with semis at ToC,” Owen said, chuckling, “but I get it. I mean ... well. Especially watching you, I guess. If anyone here could justify a big ego...”

I chuckled, too. “Nah. I lucked into the publicity, really...”

“He didn’t,” Cammie said. “He was in the right place at the right time by design. It’s just that that goal wasn’t selfish.”

“Okay, fine, that,” I said, still chuckling. “But this summer’s publicity really is luck.”

Cammie grinned. “Anyway ... suppose Steve and I somehow win both Nationals and ToC...”

I gave her a look, with a raised eyebrow.

She continued, “That means five other teams at our school, or more, don’t. They’re still important and they’re still winners, and we couldn’t have done it without them.”

“Sold,” Owen said, with Vincent nodding. “We need to exchange contact information. Our coach would probably enjoy talking to your coach, and we should keep up.”

I pulled out one of my cards and gave it to them, then got a second one for them to write their info on.

We parted with yet another round of handshakes.

“I could see meeting them at ToC or Nationals,” Cammie said.

“Me, too,” I said, then raised an eyebrow. “Both?”

“And why not?” she said. “Gotta aim for something!”

“Why not, indeed?” I said, chuckling. “Why not?”

At dinner, I mentioned that Cammie said we were going to win both ToC and Nationals.

“Both?” Jas said.

“Seriously?” Angie said.

“I didn’t say we would! Just that we could!”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Jas said. “I suppose I should be making room for two Duo trophies.”

“And I’ll take two Humorous trophies,” Angie said.

“Dramatic for me,” Paige said.

Cammie rolled her eyes, then giggled. “Fine! I said it was unlikely!”

“Nah. If anyone’s going to win both, it’s you two,” Paige said. “Of course, I’d have said that about Lizzie and Janet last year, but...”

“But we were all close,” I said. “A round or two going a different way, and anything’s possible.”

“Yeah,” Paige said. “Absolutely! Which is why we’re here instead of lazing around on the beach.”

“There’s a beach here,” Angie said.

“Not as nice of a beach,” Paige said.

“We’ll go to a nice beach when we get back,” Angie said.

“Yay!” Paige said.

Jas and I exchanged a look, pretty much agreeing that we’d let that be a single date. They deserved it, and we might want to do something on our own then, too.

We made an early night of work. Everyone was tired, and while many of the Debate kids were frantically working, Cammie and I decided that we were prepared and ready and would go with what we had. Better to be awake and alert and down a few pieces of evidence than exhausted and unable to remember where any of it was.

I had perspective on my side, where Cammie just had ... well, two years of watching me and others set a good example, I suppose.

Instead of working, Jas and I headed to Mikayla’s apartment. Still tiring, perhaps, but a good sort of tiring.

Snuggling, afterward, Jas shifted and looked up at me. “I’ve been thinking, and I have a few more questions. Not big ones, but ... questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Okay, first ... buying a house for us in college. Totally on board with that! You said something about it being hard to explain where the money came from. So ... where’d the money come from?”

I chuckled. “Illegal gambling, pretty much.”

“Explain!” she said. She was smiling, though.

Then, before I could say anything, she said, “Wait. I think I get it. You know things, so...”

“Exactly.”

“I was thinking of poker or something. That’d be way too specific.”

I nodded. “Football, baseball, and basketball. My first bet was on the Super Bowl a few years ago. I bet every dollar I could get my hands on, pretty much. The odds were fairly lopsided, so I went up a lot, and since then I’ve added to the pile. Um ... quite a bit.”

“How do you spend that and not get in trouble?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I may need to wait until I’m eighteen ... or until you’re eighteen ... before much spending happens. Some, maybe. I’m trying to get serious about how to make it legal, but ... well. I’ve looked into it...”

“Of course! Like you wouldn’t look into it!” she said, grinning.

“The upshot is that I have two problems. The one that seems like it’s sillier is the more serious problem.”

“Oh?”

“Sports betting is illegal in Texas, and illegal everywhere for anyone under twenty-one. That’s the first issue. The second is that I haven’t filed taxes on the winnings.”

“Really? Taxes is the big problem?”

I nodded. “The thing is, there’s a two-year statute of limitations on the gambling charge. Some of my bets are recent, but someone would have to find out about them, prove that I did something illegal, and do it all before the clock runs out. Taxes have a much longer time horizon. I’d have to wait five years just to get out of the audit window, and I’m not sure that gets rid of my liability. The IRS will know I have a lot of money and could ask where it came from. Dad didn’t give it to me, nor did I inherit it, and so forth. I can fudge some of it, but not all of it.”

“If you pay taxes, won’t that just get you in trouble for gambling?”

I shook my head. “I am pretty sure the IRS isn’t allowed to share returns with law enforcement unless law enforcement subpoenas someone’s taxes.”

“It sounds like you need a good accountant, or a tax attorney, or ... something.”

“Which puts us back to my being a minor. I can cancel any contract. Most professionals won’t do business with me, and lawyers may also be banned by their code of professional ethics.”

“Ugh!”

“I have a potential solution. When we get the money from the lawsuit, I fully expect Dad to put it in my hands. At that point, I can make a case with Dad for hiring an attorney to act as my agent, and I think he can arrange it so the lawyer and I have attorney-client confidentiality even with respect to Dad. Then we can go through things.”

“That works,” she said. “Next question. The money is for what we talked about yesterday? Doing a lot of good?”

“I’ve thought a lot about that. I don’t want to just be part of the idle rich, but I have a chance to be quite rich. At first, I just wanted enough to live a comfortable life, but ... now? I think ... maybe we can make things better. That means having enough money to influence politics, to donate significant sums to worthy causes, and so forth. I’ve got nothing against being comfortable, taking great vacations, and all of that, but ... well ... we’ve received no explanation as to why we’ve been given a second chance. Maybe it’s random. Maybe it’s luck. If there is a point, I don’t think it’s to lounge around in luxury. And, if there isn’t a point, I don’t want to be someone who would be satisfied doing that.”

“Good answer! I’m totally on board with that. I love the idea of having a nice place to live, and being able to travel and indulge ourselves, but ... yeah. We need to be doing something if we can, and that seems more meaningful than just working a regular job.”

“Definitely.”

“One more question. You said going back again scares the hell out of you. Why?”

“There’s a movie ... a really good movie ... that will come out in a few years. I don’t want to wreck it, but I have to, a little. The guy in the movie wakes up one day and goes about his day. It’s a fairly lousy day. He goes to bed, and the next day, he gets up and it’s ... that same day. He can’t believe it, but it is. He goes a little nuts, messes things up more, and then he goes to bed, gets up, and it’s the same day. Over, and over, and over again, until he figures out how that one day is supposed to go to make it all happen the right way, at which point he’s finally able to continue.”