Chapter 24: Hope They Wore Clean Underwear

Hope They Wore Clean Underwear

“Dammit,” Tim mumbled to himself as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pushed a little too hard. At the same time, he was trying to figure out why he was waking so obviously early in the morning.

His cell phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand next to his bed again and was in danger of buzzing itself off the edge. The Caller ID read “YEAAHBOYEE.”

“Where the hell you been, dickhead?! I’ve been calling you for like an hour!” Johnnie was apoplectic over the phone and breathing like he’d just finished running a marathon.

“What the fuck do you mean, dude? I was asleep until I heard my phone. What the fuck, man? It’s like five on a Sunday morning. This the only day I can sleep in. What’s up?”

“Dude, have you seen the news, yet?”

“No, man, I’ve been asleep! What happened? Another terrorist attack or somethin’?”

“No, man, turn on the local news. I’ll wait.”

Tim was up and now sitting on the edge of the bed. “Fine. Hang on a sec.” He grabbed the TV remote and turned on the local channel, hoping for the news. “Okay, man. Well, it’s a fine food dehydrator, but I don’t think my mom is in the market for one.”

“Channel 14, smart ass. It’s been on almost all night.”

“Okay.”

“Yes, Bonnie, the police sent as many as five different buses to remove the arrested party goers. Allegedly, all were under age and under the influence. I was able to personally make out six different young men, all wearing Roosevelt varsity jackets. As you may remember, Bonnie, just a couple of days ago, we reported on another controversy involving the Roosevelt varsity football team. Not only were they fighting on the field, they were also being verbally abused by their opponents.

“The amazing thing was these Roosevelt players could obviously hear these threats, yet they took the moral high ground and resisted the urge to answer back. They simply kept playing.

“If these, indeed, were some of the same Roosevelt football players now implicated in this out-of-control party featuring drugs, under-aged drinking and acts of debauchery. The police initially had a count of well over a hundred party goers overflowing from the original party house into several nearby homes. Problem was, these other homes did not have anyone attending the partiies. The kids just commandeered pools and a few fire pits.

“Bonnie, let me tell you from what I have seen since I’ve been out here, it looks like the makings of a bad Hollywood film. One home caught fire, several cars were overturned, and three different fire hydrants had been broken open, and fire fighters needed to use a hydrant from the next street over to stop that initial house fire. I can also see a pickup truck upside down in this pool, and what appear to be several bras tying a young man, upside down and nude to a flag pole. Bonnie, this would be funny if it wasn’t for the rampant destruction of private property. This is Ted Davidson reporting.”

Tim, now disgusted, hit the mute button and returned to his conversation with Johnnie. “Dude. Do you think that was the party that Frank and the others had invited us to?”

“Don’t really know, but a better question man is: who were the dudes in the letterman jackets who got caught?”

“Honestly, man, I have no idea. I could text Frank and find out, but I don’t think I’ll do that right now.”

“Naw, wouldn’t want to wake him up.”

“But yo’ punk ass has no problem waking me up, huh?”

After a few seconds of Johnnie humming on the phone, he paused and said, “Nah. Not really.”

Both friends started laughing. After a few seconds of continued abuse between friends, Johnnie continued, “Thanks for reminding me I had that paper to write. I would have probably been at the party. But then again, the way that guy was describing it, it sure sounded like one hell of a muthafuckin’ party.”

“No doubt about it. No doubt about it. You know, it kinda sounds like the stories you hear about -- this great party that grew out of control and eventually the cops got called. Don’t get me wrong now, I’m glad my ass was home with my nose in these books working but, then again, it sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and, if we would have a made a couple of different turns, we would have either gotten away or got caught with our hands in the cookie jar.”

“You sure are right,” Johnnie answered. “Hey, I am sorry I woke you but, shit, I heard you after the game. You was on the fence about going. Just like me.”

“No problem, man. You can call me anytime, man. Well, shit! Now I’m hungry and I’m gonna watch some TV. Talk at you laters, man.”

“Peace.” And the line went dead.

Tim decided he wanted a little more information about the party, so he fired up his laptop and started with the local channel’s news website. They were all reporting about the party, but Frank never told Tim where it was, just that he was driving.

The TV news channels were reporting the party happening and the official responses from the police department. That meant the police already had some people in the system and were probably calling parents and maybe even coaches to pick them up.

On the computer was where Tim spent a lot of his time when not working out or playing football. He used information from his nanites to discreetly surf the internet and look into places he probably should not go. He had cracked the passwords and codes of scores of people in his neighborhood and had access to virtually everyone in his neighborhood.

He used his time early on, before he started going to the library at school, to visit a local gym more into town and on the border of Alamo Heights. Austin Highway served as the border between Alamo Heights and San Antonio proper. Cross the street and you are still on Austin Highway but now you are in Alamo Heights. The gym was on that border between San Antonio and Alamo Heights and was only a couple of miles from his house. Tim used the jog from his house to the gym as a warm up for his morning workouts and brought a change of clothes and his laptop computer in his backpack.

The McDonald’s, a couple of businesses over from the gym, had free WiFi for customers only. Tim would purchase a large drink, refilling it often while surreptitiously using the free WiFi to gain access throughout Alamo Heights. The restaurant didn’t care about the behemoth sitting quietly in the corner using the computer and drinking soda. Leading to his next project, he remembered one of his hacks featured the computer of a San Antonio Police Department Deputy Chief, currently the Tactical Support Division Commander. The computer had access to information related to the Special Operations Unit -- S.W.A.T and Bomb Squad -- as well as Traffic, Helicopter, and DWI units.

From his home, Tim broke into the WiFi of a neighbor down the street who, according to their browser history, used their internet primarily for social media contact with friends. He remembered their password and, using several programs he had already written with the assistance of the nanites, entered the SAPD database. Using the deputy chief’s account, he worked his way around until he found the initial reports being entered into the SAPD servers by officers typing in their reports. The read-out of what the police found was frightening from an everyday normal citizen’s viewpoint but, from the eyes of a high school kids just looking to party, it was downright awesome and hilarious.

According to the initial reports, the problems began when several of the underage and inebriated youngsters decided it was time to go streaking though the neighborhood. Of course, they needed to have music while they ran but, since they were naked, that meant no phones to listen to their music. Several cars were in front and behind the runners as they made their way though the neighborhood -- eight different cars blaring eight different songs all at the same time. The runners did not seem to mind.

The first patrol cars arrived after the first block, and half of the drivers decided it was time to leave the parade. They left in a hurry and, unfortunately, one of the drivers that was following the runners decided to bolt. He hit the gas and the car horn at the same time. Several streakers jumped off the road and into the yards.

The loud music and raucous teens brought out housefuls of eyewitnesses. When the streakers realized parents and younger children could now see them, they spread out like ants from a disturbed ant pile, and scattered in all directions. Some made for the original party house where their clothes were strewn about on the lawn. Hopefully, they remembered where they were when they started their streaking adventure.

Not wanting to get into further trouble, two of the drivers stopped right where they were, and the first officer was able to get the keys from the drivers and could go about arresting when necessary. Before he started with the initial arrest, that officer requested help -- a lot of help. The lights and sirens of a dozen police cars approaching quickly set off the next wave of scattering young adults. The laughing non-streakers were still at the original house, but they decided running was better than arrest.

It took a while before Tim was able to piece together what happened, but the end would not be pleasant for those who got caught. Tim was happy to see that this was probably not the party Frank had described.

He decided to go ahead and text Frank, since it was just after seven, Sunday morning. “Did U hear about crazy party? Did U get caught?”

He sent the text and placed his phone back on the desk. Tim rubbed his face in another attempt to get the sleep out of his system. Just as he stood up to use the restroom, the phone buzzed, announcing an incoming text. Presumably, the answer from Frank.

“Yeah I heard about party, That wasn’t us. Still trying to find out who. Were U there? Do U know people there?”

Tim texted back. “Nope. Not me. Don’t know who got got. Happy not u or me.”

“Me 2 I’m happy U not caught. I’ll find out who though. C U Monday @ practice. Peace.”

Tim thought to himself, “Well, at least that wasn’t the party I was gonna go to.”

He went ahead with his plan to go to the bathroom and, before reaching the door, he heard his mother’s house shoes clapping on the floor of the kitchen. She was probably prepping Sunday breakfast. She liked having a sit-down meal Sunday mornings since the family did not go to church.

Juanita was the religious person in the family. She watched the morning services on TV every day while the others in the house ran their own lives, but she did not push her religious views on anyone, not even her own family.

“Tim, is that you?” she announced in a raised voice from the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am. Just going to the bathroom.”

“Come here when you are done, okay.”

“Sure.” Tim answered as he closed the bathroom door. He finished his morning ablutions and returned to the kitchen to see what she wanted. She was using some kitchen slicer she had seen on TV to slice up potatoes for hash browns and had something cooking on every burner atop the stove.

“Did you hear about some party last night?”

“Yeah. Johnnie called me this morning all freaked about it because some of the kids arrested were wearing Roosevelt letterman jackets.”

“Do you know who any of them were?”

“No, but I didn’t see any faces on the news. I did get a text from Frank, the captain for the varsity defense. He said he didn’t know who it was who got arrested, either.”

“Well, good. I’m happy none of your new friends were at that party. I really don’t wanna get a phone call in the middle of the night with you asking to be bailed out of jail. I’ll tell you something, I’d have half a mind to let you sit in jail until I felt better in the afternoon.” Her threat came with several pokes from the spatula being used to stir the bacon and eggs.

“Yes, ma’am. I understand but, hey, I wasn’t there, Mom. Don’t get mad.” Tim was backing up out of her reach. “Besides, I don’t wanna have to go to jail to bail you out if you get in trouble after one of your book clubs meetings runs out of wine.” He was completely out of her reach when he said that, or so he thought until she slapped him on his shoulder as she smiled.

“Do you want me to set the table?”

“Yes. Please.” She was still smiling and giggling a little under her breath. “Smart ass. You get that from your father.”

Tim pulled out the plates and different utensils to set out on the dining room table. He made his way to the table and, in his mind, musing he didn’t think it came from his dad. That was definitely a ‘Mom trait’!

“Are you kidding me? Good God, Greg. Are you sure about this?” Big John was awakened earlier than normal on the day of the week he took to sleeping in until his wife forced him up to get ready to go to church.

“Christ almighty.” Big John thought for a second and joked to his son, “Are you sure you want to be the head coach and have to deal with junk like this?”

“I’m starting to have second thoughts,” the head coach’s son and fellow varsity football coach joked with his father. “All I’ve seen are the TV reports. I don’t know which or how many of our boys are mixed up in this.”

“Oh, alright, I’ll watch it and see you at church in a couple of hours. Bye.”

“Bye, Dad.”

“Well, good grief, Johnny, you startled me. You’re never up at this hour on Sunday.” His wife, Francine, was standing at the door with the morning newspaper still in it’s plastic sleeve. She sat at her small reading desk with the paper and a cup of coffee. “You want a cup of coffee? I’ll grab you one right quick.”

“No, Franny, you sit down and read the paper. I’ll take a shower and get a cup, myself, after I get out.”

“What are you doing up this early, anyhow?”

“Your son was callin’ to tell me about a problem with the team.”

“Oh, good Lord. What in the world have them boys gotten into now?” She was visibly sulking while asking the question.

“Oh nothin’ too bad, I don’t think but, apparently, a party got out of control, and the morons scattered when the cops showed. A couple of the people arrested were wearing Roosevelt letterman jackets, so the press is already jumping to conclusions. It’s early, yet. I’ll bet it ain’t even in the paper.”

Franny was pulling the paper out of its protective plastic sleeve. She pulled the coupon section clean out, and put those pull outs on her desk and the rest of the paper in a separate pile. She spread out the front page section and made a sound like a chicken clucking. “I’ll take that bet, darling, and I’ll also bet it was a slow evening for news.”

Front page, above the fold, and in full color. Four kids wearing Roosevelt varsity letterman jackets with their hands in plastic draw strings behind their backs, all stepping into a police bus. It was noticeable two of these teens were not wearing anything underneath the jackets. They were all facing the opposite direction from the TV and news photographers.

Big John looked over his wife’s shoulder to see the front page of the paper she was holding open for him. “Oh, good grief.”

At that moment, Big John felt more tired than when he went to sleep last night, even though he knew he’d had a full night’s sleep. “Honey, could we skip church, this morning, and maybe stay home until maybe next summer?”

Franny smiled as she sipped from her coffee cup and Big John kissed her on the forehead. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll be ready soon. How about we eat out for breakfast either before or after church. You decide.”

As Sunday progressed, the story slowly came out that no football team members were at that party. It was actually members of the marching band who were caught streaking and rounded up by the police. The most serious charges were the many cases of underage drinking and many more cases of vandalism.

The really funny part of the story was that many neighbors decided the best way to ensure their insurance companies would help take care of expenses was to make videos of the crimes as they happened. When the different hand-held camera accounts of what actually happened began filtering into the police department as evidence, Tim spent a lot of time watching the videos and laughing his head off at what he was watching.

Eventually, several members of the marching band were kicked off the marching squad and not allowed to rejoin the squad until the following school year. All the seniors caught up in the mess had marched their last time for Roosevelt High School.

Monday signaled the start of a few changes to the football program at Roosevelt. It all began with a large note written on the dry-erase board at the head of the locker room. It was easy to see and easier to read.

“No morning practice. Report to gym ready for second period.”

Tim was not the first but also not the last player to report in for morning practice. Questions abounded throughout the locker room as to what the cryptic message actually meant. A majority of the players, Tim and his friends included, took the time to shower and dress for the day of school. This was normally a rushed process after morning class/practice but now there was an extra five minutes to spare – a lifetime for a high school boy.