Chapter 22: The contest

Monday morning came and the result of the meeting with Mr. Gardner, Mr. Dean, Cookie, Corey, John Shanahan and Rick Loman was that Corey was suspended from school (and all school-related activities) for a period two weeks. The consequence of that edict was that Corey was off of the football team for the remaining two, most important games of the season, games against arch-rival Threshton and last year's champion Belding.

Cookie's father was beside himself with rage when he heard that his son was no longer the captain of the football team – or even on it - but he seemed to hold his anger inside himself and he paid a visit to the school to try and smooth things out.

Not only was he unsuccessful, he also returned home with the news that John Shanahan had been named the new captain of the team.

Cookie, who had been blamed by every student in the school for her brother's suspension, felt awful about it as she made all of his favorite foods for that evening's dinner.

Nothing seemed to raise Corey's spirits though. Not even the slice of fresh-baked apple pie that she set before him with a large scoop of ice cream.

"This is really disappointing, son," Cookie heard her father say as she collected the dinner plates to take to the kitchen with her.

"I know, Dad. I'm sorry if I disappointed you."

"Nothing you could do can ever disappoint me, son. You're my boy and I love you."

"Thanks, Dad." Corey said, cheered some by his father's statement.

Back in her kitchen, Cookie, tying an apron behind her grey and violet-plaid, combed-cotton housedress, started on the dishes, wishing that there were more that she could do for her sad, inconsolable brother.

After she had put the last of the dishes into their places in the cupboard, Cookie heard the telephone ring and then her father called out to Corey and her brother talked to someone for a few minutes and then, as Cookie came in to wipe off the dining room table, he was just hanging the phone's receiver back on its cradle with an even sadder expression on his weary face.

"That was Virginia," Corey stated to his dad who was sitting in his easy chair now with the evening paper. "She's broken up with me because I'm not on the team anymore. She says that she doesn't want to be seen with just a regular guy."

"That hurts, son," his father said in commiseration, setting down his paper, "and all because of the fact that you're off the team. But always keep in mind that what happened was not really your fault."

"Not my fault, Dad? Shit! I shouldn't have lost my temper the way I did."

"Ah," his dad said to him, "it's the Mullins' Irish temper, son. Nothing you can do about that, Corey. It's born in all of us. Every real Mullins has a temper that just can't be controlled."

Cookie felt really low now as she walked slowly back to the kitchen and took off her apron. Hanging it on its hook by the door, she wondered just how such a sad chain of events could have been set in motion and have snowballed so out of control. Pushing through the kitchen's swinging door, she headed for her room to do some homework before bed.

"Wait," her father said, waving her to stop as she passed.

"What is it, Poppa?" Cookie asked, standing by his chair.

Getting up, he walked to the center of the living room and said, "Come here," as he motioned to her and then he looked over at Corey and said, "You too, son."

Both of them came and stood to either side of their father as he put his hands on their shoulders and said, "You know what, kids?"

"What?" they both responded at the same time.

"We never have a game-night together, like other families do."

"What?" they repeated, not believing what they'd just heard him say.

"Yeah. I think that we should have a little family fun-time to ease the gloom of all that has happened to us and make us feel better."

"Fun-time?" Corey inquired. "What fun?"

"A game. A contest, if you will."

"A contest?"

"Yes. A competition between the two of you with some rules that I'll set for you right now and explain."

"What contest? What rules?" Corey asked.

"Well, first I want you to stand facing each other." And, as he said it, he took their upper arms and arranged Cookie and Corey so that they were standing before him but face to face and a couple of feet apart, Corey almost a head taller than his sister. "There, that's how I want you for this."

He looked to them both now and smiled. "Now, Corey, we both know that this... 'sister' of yours got you tossed off the football team and suspended from school so I want you to think about that, to give you motivation, as we play this game."

"Game?" Corey shook his head in confusion. "Play what game?"

"Okay," his father said. "Here's how we do this ... you two will play and I'll just keep score for you. Now ... Corey ... thinking about what she did to you, I want you to slap her across her face just as hard as you can for me."

"What?" Corey shook his head as if to clear it of nonsense. "Dad, don't be ridiculous. I'd never do a thing like that to her."

"You wouldn't? Well, let me tell you something, son of mine," he said, with a seething anger now apparent in the reserved calmness of his voice, "if you don't slap her, I'll punch her in the face as hard as I can and, believe me, her face will look like goulash once I've done it."

"But Dad," he protested. "I can't..."

"Well, you'd better, son, or I'm going to hit her right now." And, as he said it, he pulled up his shirtsleeve and balled his right hand into a huge fist and reared back...

"Alright. Alright, don't hit her," Corey said, holding his hand up to stop his father, "I'll do it." And, looking at the apprehension in his sister's pretty face, he raised his open hand further and then patted a mild slap across her left cheek, causing her to blink her pale-blue eyes, at him, in surprise at what he'd just done to her.

"Shit, Son," his father said, disappointedly beside him. "Do you call that a slap? That hardly counts. I want you to try that again and, this time, I had better hear the sound of your hand hitting her face and see her head snap or, so help me, I'm gonna' knock her on her wide, little ass right here in front of you."