Chapter 20

I considered not telling Robbie till show time, but I figured she already knew. It's hard to keep a secret when you're advertising all over the county. Besides, there are worse things than death, and I didn't want Robbie putting her mind to what they were.

It was first period and we were on the stage, trying to get everything organized.

"What are you three doing up here?" Parker thundered. "Just because you think you're special doesn't mean you can skip classes anytime you want to."

I put my hand in the air.

"Just yesterday you were complaining about missing classes, and now I find you sitting around gabbing with your friends when you should be in class."

I started waving my arm around.

"There are rules for a reason and they're not just for everybody but you."

I'd stood and kept waving my arm.

"What?"

I pulled my arm down and smiled. "Did you ever consider asking a question, then waiting for the answer instead of starting the lecture?"

"That's it. I've had all I'm going to take out of any of you. You're..."

"Mr. Parker?" Tami said, clamping her hand over my mouth.

"What?"

"We have permission." That seemed to slow him down. "From Mr. Reed. For the whole day."

"The whole day?"

"In fact, we need a few other students, too. Could you possibly get Toby Reyes for us? I think he's in geometry right now."

Parker left, muttering.

Tami kept her hand over my mouth and turned to face me. "Do you have to bait him? He's having a very bad week."

"Speaking of which, did he ever say anything about the zip disk?" Robbie asked, as Tami took her hand away.

"Not a word. Hasn't offered to return it either."

"That's not like him," Robbie mused.

I shrugged. "What's he going to say. If I have the disk and it's not on school property, he can't touch it. And I hope that contributes to his bad week."

"And it's not going to get any better," Tami added.

"It isn't?"

"Friday," she said as if that explained everything, and I guess it did. Friday was a home game, and Robbie was probably not going to make his life any easier.

"You sure you don't want to do this?"

"You wanted to be an impresario," I said with a smile.

Tami stuck her tongue out, then walked around the curtain and out onto the apron of the stage. She walked to the middle, looked out at the audience, turned red, and walked quickly back.

I grinned and handed her a microphone without saying a word. She snatched it out of my hand and retraced her steps.

"It works so much better with one of these," she said, and the audience laughed. "I want to thank all of you for coming tonight and showing your support for our community and the Bradleys." She waited for the applause to die down.

"Most of you probably know that the Bradleys lost their home and all their belongings in a fire last week. You may also know that the Red Cross or other aid organizations weren't able to help because they were stretched to the limit with aid for Katrina victims.

"Speaking of which," she continued, "some of you may know my friend, Tony Sims." There was scattered applause and cheering. "And you may know he's just a little bit opinionated." That got a bigger laugh than her mistake with the microphone. She continued while I was still deciding if I was offended. "He's written a petition that he asks you to sign. It's in the lobby and would require the Red Cross to keep at least half of their resources for the local community.

"As for our local community, eight hundred and ten of you bought tickets tonight to help out. Half of that will go to our Red Cross and the other half toward helping the Bradleys find a new home. Thank you."

I could see the Bradley girls in the front row all hugging their mom as she wiped tears from her eyes.

"Tonight, fresh from their Western tour, Unrehearsed. This summer, they performed in Oregon, California, Arizona, Colorado and Wyoming, including two radio concerts."

Okay, that might be stretching things a little bit.

"And their first CD, Live From Otter Park, has sold out three pressings."

And that might be stretching things a lot.

"Ladies and gentlemen, to get your blood pumping, from the middle school, and who knew anyone could sing over there," she paused and the curtains opened. "TRACI SIMS AND A CLASSIC, JAILHOUSE ROCK!" she yelled and ran off.

Traci looked a little embarrassed as the lights died and the spot hit her, but then the music started and she jumped in. By the time she time she got to "Let's Rock," she'd forgotten about the audience and was just into the music.

Ninety minutes later and I was almost exhausted. I'd done five songs, including a duet with Robbie. Robbie and the others had done fourteen more. So far, the hit of the night was a new song that Toby and Sally had written together called Dumped in the Bleachers. As Traci sang about her boyfriend who dumped her for a cheerleader at a football game, I wanted to punch somebody. But the high point was when Traci picked up her sax and let loose with a long sad solo. Her applause lasted longer than the song.

"She can't really play that thing," I said as I walked out when the applause died down. "We have a tape player in the back." Traci ran out and stomped her foot down next to mine. I lifted my foot and started hopping around as she stomped off. "Anybody want to buy a little sister? All proceeds to charity."

Peter stood up in the fifth row. "Five cents!" he shouted.

Luke was in the third row. "A dime!"