Chapter 7

"... brings recognition on our community. The recent article in a national magazine shows the nation, shows the world, that our youth are on the right track."

If the right track was about to barf on the mayor in front of a couple of hundred people, then yeah. 'And why is it that the closer to the election, the more they talk?' I thought. If it was the middle of November and he'd just been elected, it would have been, 'The kid did good.' A year ago we could have gotten by with a half page speech. But now, in the middle of August, with the election two-and-a-half months away, we were on page three and going strong.

"... athlete of extraordinary caliber but still able to get the grades in school he'll need to succeed as an adult."

He hadn't even gotten to the damn fire yet. I tuned him out and looked around the crowd. Besides Tami, Robbie, and my sister, there were only half-a-dozen kids. It was mostly adults. I recognized several of my teachers from the middle school, and a couple I knew taught at the high school. Mr. Boyd, the cop who lived in the front row of the trailer park, was there in uniform. My parents of course, looking ready to bust with pride, that made me feel good.

Tami looked proud, too. Traci looked bored, and Robbie? Robbie, I couldn't read.

"... risking his own life to rush into a building engulfed in flames. I present, the key to the city."

I stood, smiled at the crowd and took the foot long gold plated key. "Thanks," I said quickly, waved the key over my head and beat a hasty retreat.

"And modest too," the mayor said, having the final word.

As the ceremony broke up, I got hugged a lot. The only one that meant anything was Mrs. Miller, and she hugged Robbie and Tami too.

"Nice key," Robbie said as we made our escape.

"Robbie, I..."

"What?" she snapped.

"Nothing. It's just a gold painted key."

"Yeah, just a key."

I stepped inside the door and threw my gym bag.

"That doesn't go there," Mom said from the arm of Dad's chair as the bag bounced off the wall and landed on the floor.

"I know," I snapped.

"How was try-outs?" Dad asked quickly before Mom could react.

"Robbie made the team. I didn't" As soon as I'd said it, I knew my tone was harsher than it should be."

"Tony..." Mom started.

"Woman! Go make your son some dinner."

Mom stood, turned, and looked down at Dad. "My son?" I couldn't see the look on her face and was thankful for small favors.

"With that attitude, you're damn right he's your son," Dad said, grinning.

With her back turned I couldn't tell for sure, but I think my mom stuck her tongue out at my dad.

As Mom walked into the kitchen he said, "You, sit!"

"Yes, sir."