Chapter 1

I was fourteen when my stepdad died. By all accounts, he was a good man and there were a lot of people at his funeral on a sunny day in June 1980. But his eulogy rang hollow, as though the speaker didn’t really know him. I don’t think he did, but then not many people did. They knew about him but he was so focused on work that he didn’t form a lot of meaningful relationships. He certainly didn’t form one with me and I didn’t cry at his funeral and neither did my brother. I don’t remember if Mom did. I don’t think so. I definitely want people to cry at mine.

From Mom, I know my biological father, Victor Strzok, was good looking, intelligent, athletic, and a jerk. Mom divorced him when I was little and Mom and my older brother, Franklin, never talked much about him. If you can’t say something nice about a person, don’t say anything at all. So, they didn’t. But I knew he was a jerk even though neither of them came out and said it. I always wondered how he snagged Mom because I always thought she was intelligent and pretty, too. At any rate, I got his genes but fortunately not his temperament. A few years after divorcing him, Mom thought she hit a home run when she started dating Ronnie. He was a good man, smart and successful, and all, but later, Mom said he was married to his work. He was only fifty when he died. They said it was his heart but I thought it was probably from stress. Maybe it’s the same thing.

Ronnie had a special kind of mind for business. If a company was failing, they would hire Ronnie to turn things around. He did. Every time. And part of his contract always included stock in the company. They gave him stock that wasn’t worth much, then he turned the company around and his stock was worth a lot. By the time he died, he was wealthy, but he was still dead.

After he rescued a third company, my parents bought a huge house in a great, upscale neighborhood West of the Ashley River in Charleston. It had eight bedrooms, a game room, library and more, as well as a pool, a twice a week gardener and a regular cleaning service. Mom didn’t want a maid but we could have easily afforded one. Like I said, Ronnie did well financially. Money was his specialty.

So, there we were. Mom was forty-four, Franklin, was twenty-four and I was fourteen. I found out that Ronnie had set up trusts for both Franklin and me; but I was too young to have access. Franklin got an initial distribution of a million bucks and something like five thousand dollars a month. Mom got enough that she would never have to worry about money again, especially since the house was paid off. Except that she did. She worried that if she ever dated again, the guy would know how well off she was and she was afraid he’d fall in love with her money. I won’t say she was paranoid, but she’d already lost out in the love department twice. So, it seemed understandable that she would be slow to get back into it. That was too bad because she would have made someone happy and I thought she deserved the same. Plus, I kind of wanted a dad. You know. A real dad.

My life didn’t actually change that much after Ronnie died. As I think back on it, it’s really remarkable that it didn’t. I guess that’s a testimony to how little time I spent with him. Ronnie’s specialty was money but my specialty was learning. I couldn’t get enough. My favorite quote was by Einstein who said, “Once you stop learning, you start dying.” I read constantly and kept a journal of the things I learned. I also kept a wish list of the things I wanted to learn. One of the most important things I learned was what it took to be a good student. Humility. A good student has to have the humility to realize he doesn’t know everything. The more I learned, the more I realized how little I knew, and so, I wanted to learn more. It was pretty much at the core of who I was. I enjoyed learning and I was good at it. I never wrote it down, but I think the main thing I wanted to learn was who I needed to become so people would cry at my funeral. It sounds weird and that’s probably why I never wrote it down.

Ronnie’s funeral was at the beginning of summer and since then, I’d had a lot of free time. I’d be starting high school in a couple of weeks. That wouldn’t be a big change either. I had gone to Porter-Gaud, outside Charleston, my entire life and moving to high school was just a change in grade. Like our house, it was west of the Ashley River and I would have no problem walking to it if I needed to. I’d done it before and it was the same campus. I had no reason to think the next year of my life would be much different from the previous years. But it was. It was the year that everything changed. It was the year I grew up.

Franklin had come for dinner and afterwards, he and Mom were having a long private conversation. I was in my bedroom reading Catcher in the Rye because I was fourteen and that’s when you’re supposed to read it. It was entertaining but I couldn’t really understand what all the fuss was about. Holden Caufield was supposed to be two years older than me but I thought I would handle his situations much better. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t understand all the fuss. He’d just met another character when there was a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I hollered and looked to my left to see if it was Mom or Franklin. Franklin.

“Hey, sport. How’s it going?”

“Pretty much the same as always. What did you and Mom talk about? That was the longest conversation I think you guys have ever had. It might be the longest anyone has ever had.”

“Yeah. I guess it would seem that way. Mostly, we talked about you. Catcher, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ve been putting it off for a couple of years because I wasn’t sure if I’d like it. I’m half way through and I’m still not sure. How could you have possibly talked about me for hours? I couldn’t talk about me for hours and I am me.”

“You’ve never really had a dad,” he said, simply.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we had the same two dads so if I haven’t had one, neither have you.”

“True enough. But I’ve had an extra ten years of making mistakes without having a dad to stop me from doing something stupid,” he said, throwing his leg over a chair and sitting across from me.

“That’s not really encouraging, you know?”

“So, what Mom and I were talking about is that I want to step up and save you some of that pain.”

“Yeah? How do you plan to do that?” I asked, really surprised and suddenly much more interested. I dog eared the page and closed the book so he’d know I was interested. I can’t remember who told me to do stuff like that but it seemed like it was the right thing to do. Being ten years older than me, Franklin hadn’t been involved in my life much more than Ronnie had. We had a good relationship. He was just a lot older and busy with his own stuff. I figured that he was sort of like a grown up me. He was taller and stronger and had a job and a girlfriend.

“Yeah. So, let me tell you what’s on my mind and what I talked with Mom about and you can tell me what you think,” he said and leaned forward. I set the book down. “I once bought a book that was full of stuff every guy is supposed to know. You know, how to tie a tie or change the oil. All that kind of stuff. Sort of like a Boy Scout merit badge book only more practical. I just about wore it out. But a lot of it was pretty superficial, nice to know stuff but not really anything about the mysteries of life.”

“You think I should get the book?”

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing but that’s not really the point. I was thinking that it’s really tough, when you’re fourteen, to figure out what’s important and what’s bullshit. You’ll never need to change the oil in your car in your life for example. Unless you want to.”

“Nice to know but I won’t have a car for two years and even then, I’ll have to save up for some clunker because my trust doesn’t even start until I’m eighteen.”

“That’s part of what Mom and I talked about.” He handed me a thick envelope.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Open it.”

I did. It was a stack of bills. “What’s this for? How much is this?” I asked.

“Mom knows you don’t get any of your trust until you’re eighteen. But you never really have to worry about it. She pays all the bills and all. But that’s from me. Dad didn’t know you well enough to realize you’re not an idiot and wouldn’t blow it on stupid stuff. I know you better.” I looked at him dumbfounded. It looked like a lot of money. Even though my family was well off, I’d never had much of my own. He smiled at me, “That’s ten grand.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. No joke. No fooling around. That from me. That’s a starter. Don’t blow it but don’t worry about it either. I’m giving you money for two reasons. The first is so you can enjoy life a little. You’ll be dating before long and you’ll want a car and all that. You need to learn how to manage money before you turn eighteen or even before you get a car, so this is sort of a starter fund to help you learn.”

“Thanks, Franklin. Really. Thanks! I don’t even know what I would do with all this.”

“I don’t think you’ll have a problem figuring it out. You can go crazy at the used book store and not put much of a dent in it. Anyway, the other reason is so that you realize I’m serious. I want to mentor you. I want to teach you all the stuff I learned through trial and error in the last ten years since dad didn’t teach me. I figure this might be a pretty good way to show you that I’m serious.”

“No kidding. You didn’t have to do this, though. I’d pay attention.”

“But now you really will.”

“I guess that’s true enough.”

“Good. Are you up for this?”

“How could I refuse?”

“Good. What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Asks the big brother handing out money. Whatever you want to do.”

“Good. Tomorrow, we’re going fishing. The weather is supposed to be perfect.”

“Okay, but I don’t know how to fish.” I thought about it for a second. “Ah. I get it. Fishing is lesson number one? Fishing?”

“Sort of. First, you might like fishing and it’s not that hard. Second, fish don’t say much. We’ll have lots of time to talk. Sound good?”

“Actually, it sounds really good. Where we going?” Living in the LowCountry, we could have gone to countless rivers, lakes or the ocean.

“I have a friend who lives on Lake Moultrie. They have a pontoon boat and all the gear. All we need to do is go. I’ll pick you up at eight. We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he said and stood up to leave.

“Hey, Franklin, thanks. Really,” I said and stood. He hugged me, in a manly sort of way and was ready to leave. “There’s something beside that book that made you think to do this, though, isn’t there?”

“Karen, my girlfriend, was telling me what an impact her older sister had on her. I guess I kind of got jealous of the relationship she had with her.”

“I’ve heard about those family relationship things,” I said smiling.

He slapped my arm. “See you in the morning.”

I was pleased and puzzled and a bunch of other emotions all at once. I wasn’t sure what to do with them so I went looking for Mom. I heard the front door close and found Mom in the kitchen, baking cookies or brownies or something. She was standing at the center island with a big metal bowl and a whisk.

“Hey. Did you know what Franklin was going to talk to me about?”

“Not until tonight. Did you have a good talk? What do you think?”

“I think I just won the lottery, sort of. He’s serious.”

“He is. I think he realized how little you got from Ronnie and decided to step up. I’m proud of him. For growing up with an absentee dad, I think he turned out pretty good. You too ... so far,” she said, smiling.

I could see something troubling her and I couldn’t figure it out. She turned away from me but she dabbed her eyes and then I got it.

“Ronnie was a good guy, Mom.” I wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if I should. I thought it needed to be said and went for it. “There was no way you could know that he would spend that much time at work.” That’s what she’d been thinking about. I knew it.

“I should have. He was a good man. Jack, I don’t think he knew how to be a family man. Give him a hundred-million-dollar company to fix and he knew just what to do. Raise a couple of young men and he was out of his area of expertise and his comfort zone.”

“Or take care of his wife,” I added, and sort of winced, thinking I’d gone too far. If you can’t say something nice...

“We’ve never wanted for anything. That’s how he showed that he loved me.”

“That’s true enough. Not the same, though.”

“No. Not the same. But it’s what he knew how to do. It’s how he showed me that he loved me. I never doubted that.” She got quiet for a moment and I didn’t have anything to add. Putting down the whisk, she asked “When are you and Franklin getting together?”, changing from an uncomfortable subject.

I told her. She agreed that it sounded like fun. Then she told me that good intentions aren’t the same as following a plan. I wasn’t to be disappointed if Franklin didn’t spend as much time with me as I might hope for. Don’t get my expectations too high and let him surprise me. I agreed, hugged her and went to my room.

Mom might have been forty-four but I didn’t think she looked like it. Some of my friends thought she was ten years younger. I’ve been taller than her for a year so I figured she was about five-eight or so. She had silky blonde hair and a pretty face. She’d always been fit and had a nice figure. Plus, she had a great smile that made her eyes crinkle at the edges. She was the prettiest Mom I knew. Definitely too pretty to be single.

Saturday morning I was up early and sitting on the front step waiting. Franklin had a dark blue BMW sedan that didn’t look very old. It was nice. I was pretty sure it cost more than ten grand but the truth was, I didn’t know what anything cost. If we wanted it, mom or dad bought it. He pulled up, I got in and we were off. I knew we’d have a good solid hour or more before we got to the lake. We crossed over the Legare Bridge onto the peninsula and then left on the parkway toward I26.

“What would you do if you were me and you just got more money than you knew what to do with?” I asked.

“Pretty good question. Let me ask you some questions and I might have some ideas. How are your grades, Jack? They’re good, aren’t they? Still reading the encyclopedia?”

“They’re good. The last time I got anything other than an ‘A’ was third grade spelling. Yeah. I’m on T.” I’d seen the movie Dr. No when I was a kid and beautiful Honey Ryder said she’d read the encyclopedia when she was a kid. For some reason, the idea intrigued me. I thought if I read the encyclopedia, I’d know everything. I also introduced myself as ‘Pierce, Jack Pierce’ for about a year because that’s how James Bond did it and there was no one cooler than James Bond. Anyway, reading the encyclopedia turned out to be a pretty good investment of my time. I didn’t introduce myself as Pierce, Jack Pierce anymore, though.

“I’d say that qualifies as good. You’ll find that high school is harder, especially at Porter-Gaud,” he said. “It’s a bigger change than from seventh to eighth or any other grade so far. And college will be harder still. You’ll probably do just fine but it can sneak up on you.”

“What do you mean, sneak up on me?”

“How much do you have to study for a test? Do you just take it all in during class and tests are easy or do you have to cram? What about note taking? Do you do much of that?”

“I don’t know how much other people study. I study some but I’m usually ahead and I definitely don’t take notes. Except language. I hated Spanish so much I’m taking Latin. It’s going to be just as bad and I can’t wait to get that requirement out of the way.”

“That’s about what I figured. You knew that there were at least two chances to skip a grade but Mom wouldn’t let them bump you up. She said she rather let you be a big fish in a small pond. Think about that for a minute. I think the average SAT score for kids from Porter is hundreds of points higher than the national average and you could have skipped at least one grade. While that doesn’t make you a genius, it does mean you’re a great student.

“Anyway, you’re going to find some classes in college that you will definitely have to take notes and study for. If you haven’t practiced in high school, you might be shocked when you realize you don’t even know how to study.”

“I didn’t even think of that. Did that happen to you? You got great grades, right?”

“Yeah. It happened to me. It took me a while to figure it out but I got some Bees and Cees before I did. Here’s what I would do if I were you. Pick the toughest class you’ll have this coming year and buy the text book. An extra one, besides what they issue you. Then, use it like you would in college. Mark in the margins, underline passages and highlight what you think the test questions will be on. Stuff like that. Use it up. You’re going to do that in college and there’s no reason you can’t practice all the way through high school.”

He reached into the back and grabbed a book. He handed it to me and I flipped it open. It was a book on macroeconomics and about half the pages were highlighted and there were notes penciled in all over the place. A lot of pages were dog-eared and even the table of contents had sections highlighted. It didn’t look like any textbook I’d ever seen. It looked used. Really used.

“I had a hunch we might be talking about this. That’s an example so you can see what I’m talking about. That was from my senior year, after I knew how. It’s going to seem strange, marking a book up. That’s why you have to practice. Tell the teacher or she’ll freak when she sees you writing in it. It’s yours so can do anything you want with it.”

“I get it and it sounds smart. Plus, I’d get to keep one in my locker and one at home. Did you do that with all your classes in college?” I asked and he nodded. “Then I’ll definitely do that. Can I keep this for a while? I want to figure out your system.”

“There’s a legend in the front. I kept notes in different ways for different classes. Let me know if it’s not obvious.”

“Okay. I’ll still have about nine thousand nine hundred and fifty dollars left.”

“Sounds like you might be able to afford two textbooks. If you needed it, you could hire a tutor but it would be more likely for you to be the tutor. Keep that in mind, though. There’s more academics to talk about but that’s probably not that important until you’re a sophomore. This is sufficient for right now. Are you going to play any sports? Going to go out for any team sports?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I have some friends that are going out for football and I’m big enough so I was thinking about that. You played. You’re like six foot four or something but I’m already almost six feet and I weight one sixty or seventy.”

“That’s pretty good sized for high school football, especially as a freshman. You’ll probably end up as big or bigger than me. I’m six-three and one-eighty-five, if you’re wondering. I’d guess you’re five-eleven and one-sixty or so. You know I played football and baseball and it was fun and the coaches were good. They definitely taught discipline. But why football? Just because of your friends? Is it your favorite sport?”

“It just seems like the thing to do, mostly. Do you have a better idea?”

“Maybe. But it depends on what you like. If you play football in high school, do you think you would want to play in college too? And then the pros?”

“I haven’t thought that far down the road but that seems pretty unlikely.”

“It is. Most guys that play high school football stop when they graduate. They have fun playing and they learn a little discipline and maybe a love for the game, and definitely make some friends, but then it’s over.”

“Sounds about right. And the guys that play in college do it for the scholarship and then they’re done, right?”

“For the most part. Only a tiny percentage make the pros. And you won’t need the scholarship anyway.”

“So, don’t play football?”

“I’m not going to say that. But I will say that I had a couple of friends get injured playing football and one of them messed up his knee so bad he’ll never walk right again. He can walk but he can’t really run or anything. I think he plays golf now. Football is a tough sport.” I nodded. “If I had it to do over again, I’d pick a sport that I could play for the rest of my life.”

I thought about that one for a while, watching the scenery as we left I26 to take Highway 52 toward Moncks Corner. It was becoming much more rural. “I don’t see a lot of middle-aged guys playing football for fun.” I said and thought some more. “Tennis, maybe?”

“Tennis would be good. So would golf but I don’t think they have a team. But neither of those will get you in the weight room and neither of those are team sports. Doubles tennis is but it’s a pretty small team.”

“And there’s a benefit to playing a team sport, and a benefit to getting in the weight room?”

“I think so.”

“Don’t say soccer. I hate soccer. I’d rather be on the watch-paint-dry team. Maybe basketball. I’m probably tall enough now and if not, maybe by the time I’m a senior.”

“Basketball will definitely develop your teamwork skills and you’d get plenty of cardio workout. Probably not as much in the weight room though. How about baseball?” he asked.

“I like baseball okay. You know what I really like about baseball? You get to knock the crap out of something.”

“Sounds like golf. Next time we get together we could go to the driving range or maybe the batting cage.”

“I think I like the sound of the batting cage better. I’ve never been.”

“We’re covering a lot of territory, here. Academics and sports. You have a lot to think about with sports. You should check the Porter-Gaud athletic schedule and maybe talk with a coach or two.”

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t thinking long term. I should probably use the switch from middle school to high school to change my thinking toward a longer range in general. Golf doesn’t sound like fun but I know a lot of older guys play it so it would probably be good to know how.”

“I play a little. I don’t think you can play a little and be any good. I’m not. Some of the guys I play with think they can watch golf on TV and get better and that’s just crazy. It’s like any other sport. You have to practice.”

“That’s the part the sounds boring. Maybe the driving range would be okay.”

“We’ll try both. Like I said, take a look at the schedule for sports. I don’t even know when golf or tennis season is. You don’t have to learn either of those in school but you ought to do something so it may as well be something you’re going to enjoy.”

“Which would you have done if you could do it over again?”

“I don’t know. Girls seemed to like guys that played football and that was sort of a nice benefit. Probably the biggest one. But in my four years of high school, I never took a girl to a football game because I was playing, so that’s the downside. I enjoyed baseball and I was pretty good at it. But it really doesn’t matter what I would do. This is you we’re talking about.”

We rode in silence for a while. It was nothing but trees on either side but I knew the lake was somewhere to the left. I tried to remember when different seasons were. Baseball was in the Spring, just before school got out. Football was in the fall but it wasn’t sounding as attractive as it had before. Basketball was in the winter, I thought but I had no idea about tennis or golf.

“Kind of difficult to take a girl to a game when you don’t have a car, though,” I said. “As if a girl would go to a game with me anyway.”

Franklin laughed. “You’ll have your chance sport. No girlfriend yet, huh?”

“Not even close.”

“Anyone you like?”

“A couple, but they’re older and don’t even know I exist. I guess there’s a couple of girls my age but they still seem, I don’t know.”

“Girls change a lot at this age. I knew girls who were flat one year and after the summer, they had boobs.”

I laughed. “That’s it. It’s probably not supposed to be a big deal but there’s something more attractive about a girl who, you know?”

“Has boobs,” he said.

“Exactly. They don’t have to be giant or anything but just something.”

“Who do you like the best?”

“I don’t know. Tina Hampton, maybe. But she’s two years older than me.”

“She’s nice, huh?”

“Well, she’s more grown up, I guess.”

“She has boobs,” he said, smiling.

“She very definitely has boobs. I see you laughing but Karen has some pretty nice boobs. I mean, it seems like she does. She’s nice, too.”

“She is nice and she does have a good figure. Fourteen is kind of the mystery age. Girls start to grow up and get a figure and they discover guys, usually before guys discover girls, I think. And everyone is goofy.”

“You got it.”

“Anyone else?”

“Kristi Sullivan is nice but she’s older than me too. So is Kim McTighe and she’s really hot. Like, really hot. But she’s older too. I think that’s kind of a kiss of death for a girl. They want to date older guys.”

“Ever been kissed?” he asked.

“No,” I said and then realized I was wrong. “Kind of,” I answered and I knew I was probably turning red.

“You can’t get kind-of kissed.”

I knew he was waiting for more. “I don’t know if you know her but Sally Hinkleman.”

“I know her. Mom is good friends with Mrs. Hinkleman. Janice, I think. Go on.”

“It was her birthday a month ago and there was a party but I couldn’t go for some reason. Anyway, I had a present for her and took it to her house a couple of days later. She opened it while we were standing on her front porch. She liked it a lot.”

“And she kissed you.”

“Yeah, she did. She was really happy about the gift. We just kind of smushed lips together. It was nice but it surprised me and it didn’t last very long. I think she was surprised too.”

“Got to start somewhere. Smushing lips is not a bad start. Does she like you or just the gift?”

That one got me. “I was thinking she just liked the gift.”

“But she wouldn’t have kissed you if she didn’t at least like you a little. Do you like her?”

It caught me off guard that Sally might like me. “I like her enough. I hadn’t really thought about her too much until she kissed me, but I’ve thought about her more since then. We’ve been in a bunch of classes together. She’s pretty cute and she’s starting to get boobs. She’d definitely be on my list of girls my age. She’s really tiny.”

“They come in all shapes and sizes. Any problem with that?”

“No. Not really, I guess. But how do you learn stuff? You know. How to kiss and stuff. I can learn football or tennis at school but I’m pretty sure there aren’t any kissing classes. How did you learn?”

“If we’re going to talk about girls, you should know that rule number one for me is don’t kiss and tell. The easiest way to blow it is to tell other guys that you got to second base with some girl. If a girl knows she can trust you, she’s more likely to let her guard down.”

“And let you get to second base,” I said. I wasn’t actually sure what second base was but it sounded better than striking out.

“Something like that. It’s honorable, and you build trust and there isn’t anything more important in a relationship than trust. You can tell me and I won’t blab but don’t tell your buddies. What happens between you and a girl should stay between you and the girl. But I think it’s okay if you tell me. I’m not going to ruin a girl’s reputation and I’m not in competition with you.”

“I guess that makes sense. I haven’t told anyone but you that Sally and I smushed lips. Lots of guys talk, though.”

“Yeah. And the guys that talk the most typically end up with girls you don’t want to be with anyway.” He saw that I didn’t understand. “They end up with girls that have a certain reputation. Loose. Easy. Anyway, I won’t tell anyone that you and Sally Hinkleman smushed lips.”

“Thanks. No one else knows.”

“Did you two talk about it afterwards?”

“No. Not really. She sort of stepped back and we just looked at each other for a minute. I think we were both pretty surprised.”

“But nice?”

“Yeah. It would be nice to do that again when I wasn’t surprised.”

“With Sally?”

“I like her. I mean, she’s nice and everything.”

“And she has kissable lips.”

“Well, they’re the most kissable lips I know of.”

“Tell her.”

“Tell her what? Hi, Sally, you have kissable lips, in case you didn’t know?”

“No. But tell her. Maybe like, ‘Sally, the other day, after your birthday, when we kissed. I really liked that. It was nice.’”

“Just like that.”

“Just like that. You might be the first guy she’s ever kissed. She might wonder if you think she’s a girl with that certain reputation.”

“Just because she kissed me?”

“Yeah. But if you talk to her don’t say, ‘when you kissed me’ say, ‘when we kissed’. That makes it sound like something you both did. Takes the pressure off her.”

I thought about that for a while. Sally was pretty nice and I sure didn’t expect her to kiss me. She smelled nice. I hadn’t even put my hands on her waist or shoulders or anything. I would kiss her again if I had the chance.