Chapter 11: Thursday at School

Period 1 - Honors Seminar

"Good morning, students and staff," Holloway began. "First, I want to remind everyone again that tomorrow is spirit day at Bald Mountain High. That means game uniform code for all of you in sports teams, cheerleading, pompom, band, and other organizations who've chosen to comply. In addition, everyone should wear the puce and chartreuse to the maximum extent possible.

"Second, I encourage everyone, when urinating, to use the toilets and other fixtures that the school board has provided. However, if that's not possible, at least try to use a sewer grating or some other drain fixture. Otherwise, the smell builds up. I'm sure some of you are starting to notice, especially in the bushes outside my office. To make the sewer gratings easier to find, custodians will be marking them today. Look for the orange flags with blue restroom icons on the pole.

"If anyone else would like to share experiences or discuss problems related to The Program, don't forget the daily support group after school. It's in the drama shop.

"Please keep in mind that The Program continues as usual next week. If this would be a good time for you or your group to satisfy your Program requirements, fill out a request and get it to the office before first period tomorrow.

"Finally, we all know that tomorrow is Friday the Thirteenth. There's no rule against having some fun with that, but all normal school rules will remain in effect. Triple fun or triple trouble: the choice is yours.

"That's all for this morning," Holloway concluded. "Have an enjoyable and productive day."

Pietre seemed close to cumming but when the lights came on, he gently pushed my hand away. Then, for the day's presentation, Lance Lorusso and Liza Lanahan explained the use of differential equations for analyzing stochastic processes.

Lance and Liza were both incrementally acclimatizing for an upcoming Mathletics competition. In other words, they'd chucked their pants and were trying to feel OK about it. It seemed neither of them could figure out how to stand.

Personally, I could empathize. I was trying to figure out a few things myself. Why had I roped myself into all the stuff I'd planned for the coming weekend?

I guess I was trying to do a favor for Adam, in return for all the things he'd done for me the previous week. But was it too much? Could it all possibly work? Why was I doing so many things I'd sworn never again to do? Was I doing it for him or for me?

Why couldn't things with Adam be simple, as they were with Pietre? Because Pietre and I had much lower expectations, I suspected. We were just casual friends who'd never promised to trust each other.

When class ended I took charge of Pietre again and kept at it for thirty seconds while most of the students left. Then I knelt in front of Pietre and brought him off, just as Liza Lanahan was doing for Lance Lorusso. Maharishi didn't care as long as we swallowed or at least cleaned up before the next class. I swallowed.

"Sorry to eat and run, but I gotta eat and run," I told Pietre.

"OK, if that's what you want," he replied. "See you in English."

"Yeah, English," I agreed, and then I stepped into the hall and called Marjorie at the hospital. For once, she answered.

"You doin' OK?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm better than I was," Marjorie replied weakly.

"I wanted to come and visit, but the hospital's keeps telling me you're not accepting visitors. Are you sure you're OK?"

"Sorry about that, but you shouldn't worry about it," Marjorie explained. "I just felt so bad, and I was sure I looked even worse, and I just wasn't up to facing anyone. But now I'm past the worst and feeling much better about myself."

"Can I see you today, then?"

"There's no need. I'm sure you're busy with school and your job and everything. Anyway, they say I'm getting out tomorrow, so don' worry about today. You gettin' by OK without me these few days?"

"Yeah, pretty well," I had to admit. After all, I took more care of Marjorie than she took of me.

"OK, then. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon when they say I'm ready to go. You take care of yourself now."

"OK Marge, I will," I assured her, then she disconnected.

A split second later my PDA announced a call from Bushman. I was on my way to Communications by then but told my PDA to accept the call anyway.

"Vivian, are you aware of anyone going back to the shop after it was closed last night?" Bushman asked nervously.

"No, I don't think anyone did. After we left the shop last night, Nadia and I met Dan and Lucy Lastic at Edgar Robinsong's to go over some legal matters. After that I went to Adam's house and stayed overnight. Dan and Nadia left together and I don't think they were headed back to the shop. Why?"

"Well, someone broke in and removed all but one lug nut from the Dunemaster's front right tire. It was lucky that whoever did this didn't fully seat the wheel cover, and that Ollie noticed it. Somebody could've been seriously hurt," Bushman explained.

"No kidding. Somebody could've been killed," I said.

"Well, I've called the police," Bushman stated. "When they get here I'll file a report and request extra surveillance. But you kids need to watch yourselves. It seems someone out there doesn't like our arrangement."

"OK. I'll be careful, and I'll pass the word around. And if I hear or see anything, I'll let you know," I promised.

"All right. Oh, the police are here. Let's keep in touch, OK?" said Bushman.

"OK," I agreed, then we disconnected. The old crap was starting up again.

Period 2 - Communications

Outside Communications class I managed to catch a moment with Tess Palmer, the drama princess. For once she seemed to be avoiding her Master Thespian act.

"Tess, do you have a minute?" I asked.

"Only," she replied. "What's up?"

"Well, I'm organizing an event and it really needs a media coordinator. Would you like to do something like that?"

"Like what? Pop CD's in a boom box?"

"No, were getting a live band, or maybe two or three. Crystal Cleary's working on that. I was hoping you'd help us with the television coverage."

"Television!?" Tess repeated, suddenly much more interested.

"Yes, exactly," I confirmed. "The event is a major exposition at Bushie's Off-Road on Saturday. We're hoping for some spot coverage, some man-on-the street interviews, some news spots, that sort of thing."

"Do you have any contacts I can work with?" Tess asked.

"Yes. First I'd suggest Wendy Ahern, of NewsChannel 17 in Wheatfield Beach. She's the one who found Adam and me on the beach and turned us into the story of the day. You can also call Hilda Clipperd, who produces all the commercials and other spots for Bushie's Off-Road. I'm sure she knows all the industry people here in town."

"I dunno. Two days isn't much time," Tess hesitated.

"Well, look. If you want to finagle some air time for yourself, go for it. Maybe you could do some interviews or voice-overs. Or more. All we want is air time."

That was all Tess needed. It was a good thing, too, because at that instant the bell started ringing. Tess and I both rushed into the classroom and sat on either side of Adam, who'd reserved a sofa by taking the middle seat.

The class material was mostly lecture; Magnusson talked about the history, characteristics, structure, and operational style of various mass media, including books, newspapers, magazines, movies, radio, television, recording industry, computing, and on-line access. Yada, yada, yada. I started drifting off.

Unfortunately, so did Tess, and her attention drifted toward Adam. First she caught his eye, and then she caught his thigh. Pretty soon she noticed me watching, gave me a direct look, and raised an eyebrow. I shrugged. After all, no one had mentioned the word exclusive. Then there was the matter of Pietre. I guess Tess was acting no differently than anyone else. Than me.

Magnusson droned on about the early development of wireless networking and I put my hand on Adam's other leg. Adam quickly seemed, if possible, even harder than usual. Tess moved her hand again, first to his balls, then to the base of his shaft. I suppose she didn't know what to expect. You'd think word would get around.

Adam tried to push her away but it was too late. One spurt hit the next aisle, then Tess caught him with her hand, then she bent forward and caught him by mouth. Or at least, she tried. Some of it got in her hair, some dribbled down her chin, and some oozed onto her left tit.

Eventually, of course, Adam stopped and Tess sat up. Adam had quite a mess in his lap, but Tess had one on her face. Without much success, she tried using her clean hand to wipe her face. What little she got she rubbed on her leg, and then she had two sticky hands.

Magnusson was still droning on but I'm sure he'd noticed something by then. He seemed to enter some notes in his grading files, but he didn't throw out a box of tissues or a roll of paper towels like he usually did.

When the bell rang all three of us raced for the restroom. The place was already crowded but somehow we jammed into one shower and got clean. After that we got mostly dry, then Tess and Adam ran off together for English class. Wonderful.

Crystal waved and caught my eye just as I was leaving the restroom. I didn't really care to watch her wipe, stand, and flush, so I just pointed to the door and waited in the hallway.

"Vivian, I found an embroiderer for the hats," Crystal began. "I hope he's OK."

"Why, who is it?"

Well, remember what you said. You wanted someone who never does business on this side of town."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, it's a crazy old white-haired guy who works out of a trailer. It's parked in a barnyard on the east side, just beyond the city limits. I guess he's only been in town for a few weeks. My seamstress met him at a supply shop."

"Is something wrong with him?" I asked.

"Well, first he took your hat and wouldn't give it back to me. Then he wanted to know how I'd gotten it. So I told him you'd given it to me, and the second I mentioned your name he was all over me with questions. He wanted to know where you were and what you were doing. Of course, I didn't tell him exactly."

"Then what?"

"Well then he dug into this huge box, took out a hat of his own, and gave me yours back! He going to make up two dozen more, but he refuses to charge us and he'll only deliver them to you. He made me take his PDA address. Does any of that make sense?"

"Yes, it makes perfect sense. In fact, you've done better than you can possibly imagine," I reassured Crystal. "The guy's name was Stitch, right?"

"Yes, but how could you possibly know that? Have you been messing with me? Was this some kind of scavenger hunt or test?"

"No, it was just a lucky day for both of us, that's all," I replied. "Hey, two more things. Do you think you could get the pompom girls to perform on Saturday?"

"Where?"

"At Bushie's Off-Road. There's gonna be sort of a major exhibition there."

"I dunno, but I can ask. What else?"

"You know a lot of guys. Do any of 'em play in bands?"

"Yeah, a few of them. Musicians have that aura, you know?"

"Yeah, so I hear. If the bands are any good, do you think they could play at Bushie's on Saturday?"

"At Bushie's? That's kind of odd. Is this a paying gig?"

"Maybe. It depends on how many people come. I think there's going to be a lot, but you never know. It might have to be a percentage, or just exposure."

"OK, I'll ask. Is there anything else? Because I don't want to be late for class..."

"No, if you could handle those two things, that'd be great," I reassured her, and then she was off. I swear, there were guys turning around and going the wrong direction just to watch her jiggle.

Time was short but I sent a text message to all the restaurants: Finer Diner, Guido's Quick Fill, Erubio's Super Mex, Lai King's Ping Pong Café and Truck Stop, and a few others from out of town. At the last second I added Griddle of Nowhere.

By then I was rushing through the hall, tying to make College English. Even so I managed to dial a fifty-digit unlisted phone number, wait for the sixth ring, dial twelve more digits, listen for the end of the non-working number message, and then begin recording:

"Memphis, this is Vivian. I know, I know; long time no see. We'll talk later. Have Manny or Ted call me back at this number, woudja? It's important. When you see Rosie, tell her Magic's doing fine. Gotta run. Bang! Over and out."

With only seconds left before the bell I called Ian Strommer. Yeah, that Ian Strommer. Of course I know his personal unlisted number: I'm the one who bought it for him when the Crimson Condors were still a garage band. I managed to record, "Ian, it's Vivian. Call me back..." and then the bell rang and the call went dead.

Period 3 - College English

Arriving for class at the last second has its advantages, but its drawbacks as well. That time I ended up sitting nowhere near Pietre, which might have been interesting. Instead I ended up between Brenda Geiss and Loretta Manlesse, who'd rushed in right behind me. They were both wearing wispy little bras and thigh high stockings so they could watch each other finger themselves. I considered giving them the address where Courtney Bomzer's estranged stepmother and her lesbian spouses staged daily orgies, but there was no guarantee Brenda and Loretta would wait until after school.

Atkins and his foot-long dick with the five piercings continued lecturing about Henry David Thoreau. The thing was, it turned out ol' Henry was a bit of a nudist. For example, in 1854 he wrote:

It is an interesting question how far men would retain their relative rank if they were divested of their clothes.

And in Walden he stated:

Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.

And in Journals:

What a singular fact for an angel visitant to this earth to carry back in his note-book, that men were forbidden to expose their bodies under the severest penalties!

Of course, most of the other stuff he wrote was pretty boring. Atkins was usually pretty boring as well, but listening to him was still better than watching Brenda and Loretta play with themselves. And listening to the lecture did make homework go faster.

As soon as the period was over my PDA signaled a message from Magic. Hurriedly I moved to a sheltered corner and called her back.

Seconds later there they were, Reb and Magic standing together outside a hamburger joint just like old times. Magic was holding her PDA at arms length. We used to do that a lot.

"Hi guys! It looks like you're at the edge of town. Did you just pull in?" I greeted them.

"Yeah, we got packed yesterday and drove all night," Magic explained. Then she panned over so I could see her motor home and two trailers. Did you ever see an all-terrain motor home? Imagine an old-time road grader with a survival pod slung beneath, top speed a hundred and fifty miles an hour. I suppose it was even faster on pavement but no one had ever bothered to check.

"Is that The Bullet?" I asked, obviously referring to the smaller trailer. The larger one was Magic's pit trailer.

"Yeah, what's left of it," admitted Reb.

"It wasn't your fault, Reb. It wasn't anybody's fault but Trans-Cal's."

"Bastards," we all said together.

"So what's the schedule?" Reb asked impatiently.

"You have a reservation at the Banana Tryst Motel on Nooner Street. Check in anytime after one."

"Under what name?" asked Reb.