Chapter 39

The rest of the week went by quickly without much new happening as April moved on to May. Sarah’s mood seemed to improve after her dinner with us on Tuesday. Her love for poetry surfaced in the way she taught it and I could tell that she was back to being the teacher we all knew and loved. That didn’t mean the gossip had stopped, but every time she overheard people talking about her, she took my dad’s advice and ‘memorialized’ what she heard in a collection of memos she was keeping. She took great relish in doing that.

Despite her personal troubles, Mrs. Douglas continued to give me extra reading assignments so I could advance to Sophomore English next year. She had explained my circumstances to the head of the English department at the High School and he agreed that after reading some of my essays and seeing my test scores, that I was worthy of advancement on the condition that I put in the work. My other classes were going well too. Likewise, I continued to get extra projects from Mr. Crane and Mr. Harris that could advance me a year in both History and Math respectively. As with English, my two other teachers spoke with their counterparts at the High School. Apparently they were just as impressed as the English teacher.

On Thursday, baseball practice went well. We were playing our second matchup against my buddy Lionel’s team, the Rotary Club Flyers. It had been a month since we had played them. Since then, they had gone 6-1, only losing to the ‘Zombie’ Wolves (which started the Wolves four-game win streak that we ended on Tuesday). The Flyers were the real deal.

The bad news was Coach needed to bench two of our starters over the next two weeks. So far, Paul Clinton had played center field and led off every game for us. Also, Jason Manning hadn’t had a day off at third base. That mean Coach had to make a choice how he wanted to handle it. I think that he knew that if we beat the Flyers on Saturday, we would clinch the division and the number one seed for the playoffs.

Since there were only eight teams in our league (four per division), we only played thirteen games, with ten games in the regular season and three in the play-offs. To make sure every team gets to play thirteen games, the play-off tournament is structured that seed #1 in each division plays seed #4 in their division. The two middle seeds of each division also play to see who advances. Then the two winning teams meet to see who will advances to the finals, while the losers play a consolation match. The teams that win their division advance to the finals to crown a champion. The remaining teams play a consolation match against the corresponding seed from the other division. This allows each team to play thirteen games while still crowning a league champion.

As far as the dilemma of how to cope with the mandatory game off for Paul and Jason, Coach decided to bench both players for our rematch against the Wolves, next Tuesday (which would be the last game of the regular season. We all saw Saturday’s rematch against the Flyers as the more important game.

After a relatively boring couple of days, I was greeted by some mayhem on the bus Friday morning. As usual, the annoying Jacob Turner was the focal point.

“I heard it’s true ... really,” I heard him saying, as the bus doors opened.

When I got aboard the bus, everything got really quiet.

I couldn’t help asking. “Okay, what’s true, Jake?”

“Your dad...” started Jake.

“Shut your fucking trap, Turner!” growled Tim.

“Walton?” came the voice from the driver’s seat.

“What?” asked Tim.

“Back of the bus for swearing,” stated Mr. Smithers.

“Ah...” groused Tim, as he stood up and did as he was told.

I thought about bailing out Tim since we had been buddies now for a couple of weeks, but thought Mr. Smithers should have some fun and I was more interested in getting to the bottom of Jake’s latest foolishness, especially since it concerned my father.

“What was that you were saying, Jake?” I asked as my eyes narrowed.

Jake gulped. I could tell that he was doing everything he could to keep his mouth shut. It was obvious that his survival instincts were warring with his almost pathological need to spew whatever rumor he perceived to be the absolute truth that had entered his pea brain. He was bursting at the seams and ready to pee his pants at the same time. I was curious to see what would happen next.

David Lincoln saved him the trouble and probably guaranteed that I would either kick the crap out of Jake or put the fear of God in him. Though as it turned out, that was neither the first thing I thought of when David uttered the following words:

“Jake is saying that your father is having an affair with Mrs. Douglas.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I laughed so hard at the ridiculous notion. “Okay, Jake. How did you come this conclusion?”

Jake looked a little relieved at my reaction. I had the reputation of being a fighter and Jake wouldn’t want any part of an angry Tommy Matthews.

“My old man said he saw your father and Mrs. Douglas eating dinner at The Bell and Whistle last night.”

“So?” I asked.

“Well, they were eating together.”

“Lots of people eat together,” I sagely observed.

“Why else would they be eating at a restaurant?”

“Maybe they were hungry?” I speculated.

“Why would they be eating TOGETHER?” emphasized Jake.

I had to be careful here because Jake was among the worst gossipers out there and I knew the reason they were meeting was about her case. I also knew that Mr. Crenshaw had met them at the restaurant too, concerning the divorce petition she was considering, but obviously Mr. Turner had not seen Mr. Crenshaw there.

“Maybe they were talking about me. After all she’s my teacher. Maybe she was telling him how smart I am,” I said with the straightest face I could keep. Pity David couldn’t help but laugh.

“Then why wasn’t your mother there?” Jake pointedly asked.

“My mom already knows that I am really smart. She didn’t need to be told what she already knew,” I theorized.

Jake was confused but that is an easy state of mind for him to get into. David, bless his soul, just kept laughing. “Aren’t you worried that something was going on?” Jake asked.

“Nah. My mom planted a listening device on him a long time ago. She would know if something was going on,” I grinned.

“No way!” complained Jake.

“Scout’s honor,” I vowed.

Again, Jake looked confused, but just shut up. My guess he was trying to manipulate this new piece of knowledge into some other warped conspiracy. He’d probably start a rumor that my mom secretly worked for the CIA or something. I was awoken from my thoughts by my other bus mate.

David leaned over and whispered, “You were never a scout.”

“I know, but does Jake know that?”

“Probably not. He wasn’t one either. He did drop out of 4H a couple years ago when he fell off a horse.”

I laughed. “Well, that explains it.”

“What?” asked Dave.

“He must have landed on his head.”

Soon we were both laughing our butts off.

“What’s so funny?” asked Jacob.

“Just horsing around,” said David, as he laughed even harder.

For the rest of the school day, I didn’t hear any rumors about my dad and Sarah, but I still heard more rumors about my favorite teacher and former Vice-Principal Thomas. I was gratified to see Mrs. Hicks walk away from a conversation with some other teachers when they started talking about Sarah. I just smiled and waved at her and she scowled at me. So much for playing nice.

In between third and fourth period, I saw Lionel. So far I had managed to avoid my funny but kind of annoying friend. “Looks like we’re gonna get revenge, Tommy.”

“Don’t count your apples before they’re baked, rook,” I grinned back.

“I don’t cook my apples, Tommy. I eat them raw, just like we’re going to eat you up and spit you out!”

I laughed. “We’ll see, Lionel. Is your dad going to the game?”

“He said he’d try to come back from Wilkes-Barre early if he could.” Lionel frowned.

“Hey, sorry, man. Hopefully, he’ll make it. I like him a lot.”

“He said he might use scouting you as an excuse,” Lionel’s frown deepened and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s ridiculous. He might have well have said he was scouting you.”

“That’s what I told him. At least that is somewhat believable.”

I just grinned and shook my head. My pal, Lionel, was something else.

I was then off to Intro to Physical Science (IPS). It was kind of like an elementary Chemistry course with a little Geology tossed into the mix. Like all my classes I was acing it. Mr. Duffy, the teacher, was not among my favorites, but I could tell he liked and respected me. He approached me after class.

“I understand that you’re taking advanced Math, English and History next year.”

“That’s true,” I replied.

“Well, as excellent as your marks are, I’m not sure that there will be an opportunity to do that in the sciences. Still, you have a disciplined mind and I really think that you could achieve greatness as a scientist if you put your mind to it, especially since you are a great mathematician. There are some great classes being taught at the high school, including Chemistry, Biology, Physics, Computers and Astronomy. If any of these classes interest you and you would like any help or guidance on how any of these classes can benefit your investigations of the scientific world, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll be happy to help.”

“Thank you, Mr. Duffy. I know I need to take at least Chemistry or Biology in High School, but I will need a few electives and I have been considering a science course or two.” I replied.

Mr. Duffy smiled. “Well, again please keep my offer in mind if you would like some assistance.”

“I will, Sir. Thanks again.”

I smiled as I walked out of his classroom. He had rarely talked to me in depth about anything, usually just praising my work. Perhaps my accelerated course schedule interested him. Well, either way, my opinion went up about the man (unlike my Spanish teacher, Miss Perez).

Friday lunch was excellent as always. My future mother-in-law, Natalie always packed extra food for Jen and Janie to feed me (growing boy!) and Natalie’s hoagies were always a delicious mix of meats, cheeses and raw vegetables.

“We’ve decided that we want to go to the Parts Store with you after school,” announced Jennifer.

Janie nodded. “We miss seeing Monique,”

“And Phyllis,” added Jen.

I sighed. This was supposed to be a working afternoon, not a girls night out. Monique and Phyllis were going to show their progress on the inventory database and the queries that Monique was writing. Still, I couldn’t disappoint my ladies.

“Okay,” I grinned, “but you can’t be too disruptive.”

“Why would that matter? You’re the boss,” stated Jennifer.

“And don’t you forget that,” I laughed, as I wrapped my arm around her shoulder.

“Oh, Tommy. When are you going to get it into your pretty, little head that you’ll never be the boss when it comes to us?” stated Janie.

I smiled at Jen and then back at Janie. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

They smiled back at me and I felt like I was the luckiest guy in the world!

As always, I was greeted fondly at reception by Cheryl, but I couldn’t help but notice the little smirk on her face when she saw me with J Squared. I felt I had to say something to keep her on her toes.

“Good afternoon, Cheryl. Looking lovely as always.”

“Thank you, Mr. Matthews,” she blushed prettily, as her smirk momentarily vanished.

“Tommy, you embarrassed the nice lady!” exclaimed Jen.

“I think she liked it,” replied Janie.

“You two, behave yourselves,” I shot. “I was just paying her a compliment.” I then turned to the company receptionist. “Sorry Cheryl, they mean well.”

“It’s no problem at all, Sir.” she replied, blush still intact.

As we said our goodbyes, I saw Janie smirk at me. “Well, there is another girl we have to worry about, Jenny.”

“She’s too old for me,” I complained.

“But not for me,” grinned Jen.

Both Janie and I just rolled our eyes, before I added. “See, Janie? You don’t need to worry about me, but maybe we should both be worried about Jennifer.”

“Can I help it if I’m adorable?” laughed our girlfriend.

“Who’s adorable?” asked Monique, as she turned the corner to head to the former conference room turned ‘computer room’.