Chapter 23: It's beginning to look a lot like...

Bob wasn't about to give up that easily, and he said to Mike, "We'll talk about this later, Mike. I wish my employees were as loyal."

"See you at the game?" I asked Einstein.

"Wouldn't dream of missing it," he said, and then drove off with Mike.

Mr. Denure was going to drive the bus himself tonight. We had waited till the panel was put back into place on the fancy coach and after a quick check of the sound system, he thanked Mike with a vigorous handshake, expressing his gratitude that the bus could leave on schedule next Monday.

We were going to be cutting it close time wise, but Annette's father had years of experience driving a bus through London, taking streets that I didn't realize existed in either lifetime, and to him, the speed limit seemed to be only a suggestion.

We had gotten about a dozen blocks from the bus depot when a London City Police cruiser lit up behind us. At the next stoplight, Bob opened his window and waved for it to pull alongside. "I got half the Saints team on this bus," he hollered out the window, "and I have to get the other half or we forfeit the game!"

The cop gave him a thumbs up and turning on his siren, pulled ahead of us with a squeal of tires and led us all the way to St. Ursula's where the rest of the team stood waiting. Bob wheeled the big coach around on the gravel and with a hiss of brakes stopped in front of the waiting group, the doors open even before the big vehicle settled on its air springs. "Good evening Sisters, Father," he greeted them as they climbed aboard. "Ladies, please take your seats, we have to hustle!"

He turned to his still open window, looking down at the cop car beside the coach, lights still flashing. "Wheable!" he shouted in answer to an unheard question, and I saw the cop raise his thumb again. No sooner were the girls in their seats than we were off again for the run across town, arriving in time for the four of us to change into the uniforms our teammates had brought with them.

The game itself was uneventful. No bad feelings or animosity. I remembered they had a great football team, mainly because I didn't make the cut. Wheable was the high school that Einstein would have attended but for his insistence on being allowed to take the placement tests. I remembered it as a very average school. No great intellectuals graduated from Wheable, but no losers either. Just a very business oriented school.

Although it was corny, I was starting to enjoy the brass band. In my first life, brass had never really appealed to me, but I was starting to see why it had thrived and survived all these years and why it was being used in more and more popular tunes. Hell, Disco was coming so I might as well enjoy it this time.

As Bob made the turn onto Adelaide, heading north, I looked out over the Thames. It was dark and I could sense the chill of the water. There was snow in the air.

On our first day back in school, it did snow.

We actually arrived on Sunday night after a tearful goodbye with Mike and Anne. I reassured them that they weren't losing us - we'd be home again in four weeks for Christmas, and they'd still see us on weekends and game nights.

I guess Mike and Ann had become used to having the two of us around. It still didn't really make sense to me though because while we were on our two-week semester break, Mike and Ann had still worked. I think we saw them more when we were in school!

We spent that Sunday at home and I had a sneaking suspicion we did that because Mike and Ann wanted us to themselves, although Ann invited Linda and Julie over for lunch. I still hadn't learned why Mike and Ann were so sympathetic toward them and understanding of their relationship, but figured that they'd tell us when they were ready, so I didn't ask questions.

Mike was really thrilled that Bob Denure had contracted his shop for all the radio and sound system repairs for the entire London Bus Company fleet, telling us that he'd come to the shop on Friday to discuss it.

"Actually, I think he really came over to get me to help him persuade Patrick to do those vinyl repairs for him, but first he asked for my bill." Mike smiled. "He looked at it, then said 'How would you like to do the lot?' I said, 'The lot of what?' and he said 'The whole fleet'. That sat me back on my heels, I can tell you!"

"And so," he went on, "we had a talk about it, and now I'm his preferred supplier for electronic repairs." He grinned. "And all I have to do now is persuade Patrick to do vinyl repairs for him one evening a week!" His voice took on a slightly awed tone. "You would not believe what he spends on seat repairs each year!"

Mike drove us back to school mid-afternoon after we had washed up the dishes, taking with us a special 'back to school' cake that Linda had baked to share with the rest of the team. We unpacked and settled in, then hooked up with everyone in the big seniors' common room, where we talked excitedly about what we all did on our semester break. Annette and Mandy were already there and we greeted them with the special affection we would share for the rest of our lives.

That night, we sat on our bed and cuddled in what had become our favorite position, nude with my darling sitting in my lap by the light of a single candle.

Wendy and I still had the same homeroom and religion class with Sister Mary Francis. Monday morning we were deep in discussion on the Trinity versus the One God, when Helen Lompata injected "Hey, it's snowing!"

St. Ursula's had a continuous intake program, with new students arriving each semester, and Helen was one such, having been introduced to the class that morning. I thought I had had an attitude at her age, but Helen had attitude with a capital 'A'. 'If this was the year 2000, ' I thought, 'you'd have a nose ring and black mascara just to get a rise out of your parents.'

While Sister Mary Francis didn't particularly appreciate having the discussion interrupted, she skillfully led the remark into a comparison of the uniqueness of individuals.

"Yeah, just like sheep," Helen interjected again, "As unique as white wool."

"Some of us appreciate just how unique each of us are," I said evenly. "And the miracle of life."

"Oh, so you think you're something special?" she sneered. "You think God knows you're alive?"

"Damn right!" I snapped.

"Miss Johnson, I will not tolerate profanity!" warned Sister Mary Francis.

"Oh, please!" Helen laughed. "She can swear! God knows who she is!"

I was out of my chair and standing over her before she finished her sentence. "Listen, you little dipshit, you have no idea just how precious life is!"

"Fuck you!" she said defiantly. "This isn't living!"

I leaned in close, my hands clenched and saw her expression get a little fearful. "Listen, Puta," I hissed into her ear, "if you don't think life is worth living, you might want to consider the alternative!" She shrank away from me as if she thought I was about to rip her throat out. I was straightening up when sudden pain burst from my earlobe!

My eyes tearing, I heard Sister Mary Francis say, "Miss Johnson, you come with me."

"Patti," said Sister Elizabeth. "I'm disappointed in you. Of all the girls in the school, you were the last one I thought would be a discipline problem."

"I'm sorry, Sister," I said, and I meant it too! I had let my temper take over when I should have just let it go.

"I'm sorry too, Patti, but I can't just let you off without some kind of disciplinary action. It would show favoritism. Just because you are on the volleyball team doesn't give you the right to use profanity in the classroom or to physically threaten another student."

"But, Sister... I wasn't going to hit her or anything. I wouldn't do that! I was just so frustrated with her saying life wasn't worth living!"

Sister Elizabeth thought on that for a few minutes. Damn! I liked the nuns, and got along with all of them. I wasn't sure why I reacted the way I had. Finally, Sister Elizabeth told me to come back at lunchtime and she would decide what my punishment would be.

As I turned to leave, I said, "I really am sorry, Sister. It's just that life is worth living, and people who take it for granted or don't care if they live or die, they need to take a serious look at the alternative."

Sister Elizabeth nodded solemnly and said she would see me at lunch.

"Are you in deep shit?" asked Wendy when I caught up with her.

"Not as deep as that new girl, Helen. At least I didn't say 'fuck' in class!"

Wendy giggled. "You'll be okay, Pete," she said. "God, what a way to start off a new semester eh!"

I laughed too, gave her butt a squeeze, and told her that I had to go back at lunchtime, but I would catch up with her afterwards.

There were butterflies in my stomach as I approached Sister Elizabeth's office, not knowing what to expect. The secretary greeted me with a "Hello, Patti, go on in, you're expected." The look she gave me was strange, and I knocked on the door, thinking 'Was that pity on her face?'

"Enter," came Sister Elizabeth's voice, and I opened the door to see Father Ed, Sister Mary Francis along with Mike and Ann! I froze, feeling the blood drain from my face, knowing Sister had taken this very seriously indeed!

"Come in, Patti, and close the door." I complied, and then stood stiffly under their combined gaze. "Sit down, Patti," Sister Elizabeth directed me, and I saw Mike wink at me as I made my way to sit nervously on the edge of the only unoccupied chair. On her desk was the good tea set and plates of sandwiches - it seemed they'd been here a while!

"We have been trying to decide what to do with you, Patti," Sister Elizabeth Ann said as she poured. "Sandwich?" she asked, passing me the tea.

"No, thank you, Sister," I replied, carefully taking the cup and saucer.

"You are an honor student," she went on, "and so far without a blemish on your record. Sister Mary Francis said you didn't physically threaten Helen as much as you just got too close, which we can probably all understand as coming from the intense way you girls play volleyball."

I took a sip of tea, my hand slightly trembling. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"And though we all slip once in a while with our language, Sister Mary Francis isn't even sure what the second remark you made was, she has explained she believes you were unintentionally aggravated by the other girl's comments."

I was keeping my mouth shut. Sister Elizabeth was doing a much better job of talking me out of my predicament than I could have done!

"And Patti is very outspoken and adamant in her beliefs about Our Lord," said Sister Mary Francis. "She has on a number of occasions expressed deep felt emotional statements that are truly inspiring."

Father Ed was trying not to smile.

"Well, Sister," said Mike. "I may be to blame for the language Patti used. I'm a church going Catholic, but I work in the real world, and sometimes it just clings to you and I forget to shake it off before I get home. I'm afraid that Patti might have overheard me on a few occasions using words that I wouldn't normally use in mixed company."

"Be that as it may, Mr. Johnson," said Sister Elizabeth, "it was still Patti who uttered them. Provoked or not."

Bless him. Mike was trying to take the blame for me cussing. I wondered how he would feel if he heard how I talked when it was just Wendy and me or when we were around Linda and Julie!

Mom spoke up as well. "It's possible that Patti responded the way she did because she had been so close to death."

"Actually, Mom," I said, having decided I better say something, "I did die. I know you decided it was best not to tell me, but I've known since the day I woke up in the hospital."

Ann's eyes started to mist.

"Don't cry, Mom, please?" I pleaded. "I'm okay now. That's why I get so excited about living. And probably why I get so upset when people say life isn't precious."

"Oh, Honey," said Ann. "I don't know how you found out, but you're right. You did die on the operating table. The doctors said it was a miracle that you came back."

"It was a miracle, Mom," I said. I didn't say just how big a miracle it was! "That's why I know there is a God and he does watch over us, each and every one of us."

I turned to Sister Mary Francis. "I'm sorry that I allowed my feelings to disrupt your class, Sister. I promise I'll try and be more careful in the future."

"How about never using such language again?" asked Sister Elizabeth.

"I'm sorry, Sister, but I can't promise you that. I can try, but I would never make a promise knowing that there's a chance I might break it."

"Besides, Sister," said Father Ed. "I get promises from a lot of girls and every week they come back confessing to the very same things they promised not to do the week before. All any of us can do is try. We are after all only human, and I seem to recall an incident not too long ago when a great many people spoke words that did not fit with their position." He gave Sister Elizabeth a knowing look.

"Very well," said Sister Elizabeth blushing slightly. "I do appreciate your honesty, Patti. But now I'm in an awkward position. I can't confine you to your room for the next week because then I would have Sister Gabriella to deal with. I also can't very well take away your TV privileges, because I know you don't watch it."

"I have an idea," said Sister Mary Francis. "Patti has been taking advanced classes in public speaking as one of her English electives." She had everybody's attention now. "How about a speech, to the student body, about the joys of being alive?"

And that's how I ended up at Centennial Hall facing 10 judges and an audience of 300 in April 1975.

Yes. I had taken public speaking as an English elective.

Yes, I did believe that the ability to speak well would serve me in the future, but I had not expected to start until later in life. When Sister Mary Francis had suggested as "punishment" that I address the school on the joys of being alive, I was a bit stunned.

Father Ed thought it was a great idea, and Dad, after verifying that my record would remain untarnished, quickly added his vote of support. Mom was nodding as well. Damn but I was outflanked and outgunned!

I tried to smile, and in retrospect, it was a fit reprimand for speaking out of turn in class, but... Was I ready to talk to a crowd?

It turns out that I was more than ready. Wendy sat by my side that night as I attempted to draft my ten-minute speech. I had no clue as to where to start.

Wendy grabbed a pad and a pen. "Okay, Pete. How about just telling me what's so great about being a teen? This is your second time at it. Tell me why you enjoy life so much."

I could have kissed her. I guess that's one of the things that I enjoyed so much in this life!

We worked until nearly midnight, Wendy taking notes as I talked.

Sister Elizabeth had given me the week to prepare, and that Friday, I was to do my first public speech at an open assembly.

Helen, the girl who had started this ruckus, had refused to apologize to Sister Mary Francis or to the class and spent the next month confined to the school. She didn't come back after the Christmas break.

By the time I had written out my ten-minute speech based on the notes that Wendy had taken, I felt more alive than ever. It was like I was seeing for the first time all the reasons I was so happy all the time. Aside from a few minor run-ins with jerks and religious fanatics, I had a good life. I couldn't understand why kids were so unhappy in high school.

I'm still not sure if it was my speech that got all the applause Friday morning at the general assembly or the fact that the night before we had hosted Tecumseh High on our court and righteously whipped their ass! It was the only game we would play in our own school for the entire season.

Either way, the speech was well received and I got a standing ovation for it. It was not until after Christmas that I found out that my name had been submitted to the London Public Speaking Contest. When I asked Sister Elizabeth about it, she just smiled at me and said my English teachers were so impressed they felt I should represent St. Ursula's at the contest.

Christmas came first though, and what a Christmas it was. Wendy's first real Christmas.

School ended on Friday the 20th. We had 12 days off. Kind of fitting when you think of the twelve days of Christmas. There was no game during the week we had off.

Mike slipped Wendy and me some money so we could buy gifts for each other and for our friends. We protested, but he said that we had earned it. Then Ann slipped us more money. All we could do was thank her.

After confession on Saturday, Wendy and I met up with Annette and Mandy, and we took off for the mall. Mandy was staying in London again with Annette. The weather was beautiful. Snow on the ground and just a light chill in the air with the sun causing everything to shine.

Annette and I took off so we could shop in private for our lovers. Wendy and Mandy did the same. We arranged to stay to one side of the mall for one hour and then we would swap sides. It was hard since what I wanted to buy Wendy, I simply couldn't afford. Other things that I had in mind, I couldn't give to her in mixed company. Annette was in a similar quandary. Money wasn't her problem, but appearances were.

"Damn!" said Annette. "This is harder than anything else."

"Too true!" I said, and then I spotted the Coles bookstore. Thank God, I had a memory from the future! Annette couldn't figure out why I was buying a book about Aviatophobia, but I quickly explained to her that the author was not really talking about a fear of flying but of taking chances. What I couldn't tell Annette was that the book was also about our alternate lifestyles.

After the book, I picked Wendy up a few small trinkets. A little engraved heart box for her to keep her earrings in, and other such things that she wouldn't buy for herself.

We swapped sides of the mall at the appointed time, and then after another hour we had lunch. Annette paid for all of us.

Over the years that followed, Annette was a large contributor to many worthy causes, but I'm proud to say that I first saw her generous nature when she was still in high school.

We shopped as a foursome to pick up gifts for our teachers and Sister Gabe, pooling our money to buy Sister Elizabeth a desk set. A rich burgundy pen set with a beautifully carved oak holder with a matching desk pad with real leather edges. We had it wrapped at the store, and we all signed our names on the card.

For Sister Gabriella, we bought a gleaming silver plated whistle from a sports store and a towel that said, "Winners, no Whiners." For our regular teachers, we found a series of nice calendars for 1975. Then with regrets, Wendy and I said we had to split. Mike and Tom were planning on taking all of the toys they had made for the kids stuck in the local hospitals up tonight, and we still had to pick up and wrap the dolls and the clothes that Ann and Rita had made for them as well as the clothes the nuns had made.

"How are you guys going to pack that all in one car?" asked Annette.

"We'll probably make a few trips," I said. Mike and Tom and Einstein had managed to make a lot of really neat wooden cars and trains and trucks.

Annette asked us to wait a minute while she called her dad.

Since that day Mike fixed the bus's sound system, he and Robert Denure had become pretty friendly. Mike convinced Einstein to do the repairs on the bus seats, and the two of them went every week to do ten seats together. They were still repairing them.

Well, Robert called Mike who called Tom and then Robert called the school and the next thing we knew, arrangements had been made to load everything into the Saints bus, along with six of the nuns who sang in the church choir. That part was especially cool because one of the nuns played guitar just like the Singing Nun had in the movie.