Chapter 110

“Grandmother,” I said. “Auntie Mom says we only have the word of the former United States.”

I paused, just a moment, then I said. “And you only need to ask a Native American to understand what that word is worth.”

“Auntie Mom?”

Ah yes ... the Question. Eventually, everyone gets around to it. I’ve explained so many times that I’ve been known to leave stuff out. Usually, just after the listener’s eyes glaze over, I quit.

“Daddy didn’t marry mom until I was two,” was a good enough start. “In Hong Kong,” was icing on the cake. Shifting into Australian English kept the story moving along ... when I got to the submarine and the Black Sea ... the absurdity hit ... Glaze over.

<You left a lot out> said Raul.

“Isn’t important,” I said. “She got the gist.”

Harper shook her head ... like she was clearing cobwebs out of an attic ... and said, “That was interesting.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Uh huh ... since you don’t go to high school ... do you have any interest in football?”

“Only if you mean footie,” Australian, remember. “If you mean Gridiron football ... as played in North American ... not a bit. Why?”

“I’m a fan ... I love the pageantry and excitement. I attend one of Austin’s 6A games every Friday ... would you care to go?”

“Sure,” I said.

I had no idea.

Pentwater is a small ... very small ... tiny ... school. Eleven hundred ... oops... 998 residents during ‘school season’ ... half of them female. The resultant children are also split. The football team takes what it can get. The punter / point after / kick off kicker is a 15 year old girl ... an extremely accurate soccer forward ... she’s never missed. Too bad the rest of the team isn’t as good.

Very little celebrating and pageantry. Not the best record ... but they play like sized schools.

I never bothered.

The sheer shock of the pre-amble of West Lake versus Bowie ... OMG!

“Are they all like this?” I asked Harper.

“We played Allen in the playoffs last year ... they have almost fifty-five hundred students ... they put on a show that rivals most universities. This is ‘small town hi-jinks’ compared to the state playoffs.”

“I never...”

“Hold on to your hat ... the game is...” she jumped to her feet and screamed as the kicker connected with the ball. She paid for that seat ... and never sat in it from then on. Even during the half ... she was on her feet.

I paid 10 dollars for mine and I used it.

Thirty-Five to zip ... final score.

It was the after game ... when I met ‘the girls’ that was interesting. The girls were all former cheerleaders or dance unit performers ... and sisters, cousins, and nieces who were either in or wannabes.

“Where do you go to school?” was the first thing asked...

The second was, ‘Can I pet your kitty?”