Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2016 09:33:06 -0500 From: Eric Trager Subject: It Is What It Is: Chapter 30 Please don't forget to donate to Nifty if you enjoy reading the stories! Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager. Yahoo group: https://groups.yahoo.com/IIWII CHAPTER THIRTY "I think I'm losing Sean..." "Yeah, you said that. And you said to Tim?" "Yeah... Haven't you noticed?" "Noticed what?" "The way they've been sneaking around, whispering shit to each other, texting all the time, running off together after lunch..." "Andy, let's be logical here." "I am being..." "No, you're not. I'm your friend and I'm telling you you're being stupid. Well, maybe stupid's not the right word. You're being ridiculous." "Oh, now I'm ridiculous am I..." Andy started crying again. "Andy, listen to me. If I had a dollar bill for every time Sean's told me how much he loves you and adores you I could retire." "Really?" "Of course. And Tim isn't fooling around with anyone. Tim and I already had that conversation... Besides, I have him pussy whipped." "I wanna hear about the conversation you had with Tim about that shit." "Well, it had to do with Eric Trager..." "Yeah, I remember that now that you mention it... So, you really sure Sean's not fooling around, you know, like with Tim?" "Andy, he's not. There's no way. Are they up to something? Of course they are. I can read Tim like a book. I don't know what it is they're up to, but I know what it isn't..." "Look me in the eye and tell me you're sure." Brett looked Andy in the eye. "Andy, you're my friend. Don't forget if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have Tim. I'd be a lonely nerd with no friends. And Tim would still be in the closet going mental. I have you to thank for every good thing that's happened to me this year, and so does Tim. So, yeah, I'm sure..." "Well, OK, if you say so..." "And you shouldn't forget what Sean's been through. I think in some sense there's only so much his brain can handle right now. He's lucky he bounced back as much as he has. He's strong, Andy. Sean and I talk you know...he's told me that if he didn't have you he might not have made it through that. He loves you so much. If he may seem sometimes to be preoccupied, or whatever, I think you gotta cut him a little slack." "Well, what do you think they're up to then, Sean and Tim..." "Like I said, I don't know. It's not a big deal, Andy. I wouldn't tell you this stuff if I didn't think it wasn't the truth. Like I said, you're my friend and I love you." "I love you, too, Brett," and with that, Andy pulled Brett into a hug that lasted a long time. "Thank you for being my friend..." "I'll always be your friend, Andy. Remember that." "I know. Let's get back now. I had my moment. Sorry..." "Don't be sorry. It shows how much you love Sean." "Yeah, I guess... I'm done being a douche bag for the night," Andy laughed a little bit. "It's just that if you think about it, we've been here maybe two months and look at all the shit that's happened. I mean, it's just been a lot. Like, Sean and me, we didn't even know we were in love until right before we moved here, then there was the whole thing with me getting beaten, then moving, then the house, then, just...everything!" "I know it's been a lot, Andy, but ask yourself this: would you trade it all to go back in time?" "No. No, I wouldn't... I guess I never looked at it that way. You know, I loved Sean for years before this. I never could tell him about it because I was too scared. I never dreamed we'd really be together. I thought it was all some stupid fantasy, a dream. But it's real. You see now how maybe I thought what it was I was thinking?" "Yeah, I do. For a little bit I thought the same thing about Tim and Eric Trager. You knew who told me I was being an idiot? It was Sean." "Yeah, I think I remember that part of it, too..." "OK, so I think we're done here, bud." "Yup." Andy and Brett returned to the gym. Finding Tim and Sean quickly in the crowd, Tim was, as usual, the first to open his mouth. "We couldn't find you guys! Where'd you run off to?" "Girl talk, Dix..." Andy said. "Well, alrighty then!" Sean smirked. Andy thought about what he and Brett had just talked about, but something in the back of his mind remained unconvinced. He decided for the evening he'd just have to go with the flow. The gym was filling up and it was almost time for the DJ to get started as the equipment was done being set up. All through Homecoming week, Andy had played along with the gags. There was School Spirit Day that he actually got into because as Manager of the Football Team he'd become a popular figure in his own right around school. On Rent-A-Senior Day, Andy rented Trent Westfahl to carry his books as a favor only because Trent hadn't wanted anyone renting him out and thought those things childish. "I'm here to play football..." he remarked in his characteristically terse way. Tim's name had been placed into nomination for Homecoming King, but he withdrew it saying he did not wish to play a part in the formal activities. He just wanted to have a fun evening. Another part of the reason Tim withdrew was that Colleen Kennedy's name had been placed into nomination for Queen, a prospect in which Tim, to put it mildly, did not wish to chance the outcome. Andy knew that his name and Sean's name had been put forward to be on the Homecoming Court. John nominated Sean and Kathleen nominated Andy so they couldn't pull out. The long-standing custom was King and Queen went to Seniors, so they knew they'd not be it. If he ended up on the Court, Andy knew he would be expected to dance with a girl which he didn't want to do and could easily beg off because of his leg. He was reasonably sure Sean would make the Court, although he wasn't sure of his own chances and didn't really care that much. "Good evening, Craig High!" the DJ jarred Andy out of his train of thought. "Welcome to the 2014 Homecoming Dance! We've got a great show lined up for you tonight!" The DJ then ran through where to get refreshments, how to identify the emergency exit doors, bathroom locations, who the chaperones were and the like. The lights dimmed, the music began and the dance floor filled. Sean, Andy, Tim and Brett stood as a group, watching the dance floor. Presently a snappy song came on and Tim guided Brett out on to the dance floor. Sean looked at Andy and arched his eyebrows, "Can I have this dance?" Sean offered his hand. "Why, yes. Yes, you can..." Andy beamed. "We need to take it slow though `cause of my leg, OK, Blondie?" "I know, but I just wanted at least one dance with my guy," Sean said as he nodded and cocked his head in that way that Andy adored. Sean thought Andy actually danced quite well, considering. He realized he and Andy had never danced up until that point. As he escorted Andy off the dance floor, he did so with his arm around Andy's waist. "Thank you, Brown Eyes," Sean said. "You know, we never danced before..." "I was just thinking the same thing," Andy said. "Hey..." Sean whispered. "What?" With that, Sean kissed Andy tenderly on the lips right there and right in front of everyone. How many people might have noticed did not interest him, although it was probably only a handful, if that. What mattered was that they were both there and able to do it. Sean recalled the two times when he thought that might not be the case. Tim and Brett came off the dance floor as well. Sean and Tim went back to talking busily to each other in cahoots again. Andy was anxious to know just what it was they were up to, but he chose not to ask. He had no real choice but to trust what Brett had told him although he still wasn't one-hundred percent convinced. "Hey, guys..." Tim said, "we gotta go for a few and take care of some stuff we said we'd do. We'll be right back..." "Alright, you guys," Brett chuckled, "you guys have been thick as thieves the past couple of weeks. Go do whatcha hafta do..." Andy simply nodded. Tim and Sean then hustled off, talking and laughing a little bit too much for Andy's liking. One song went by and another began with Tim and Sean still gone. Brett, ever observant and disarmingly self-assured at times saw that Andy was pensive. He smiled at Andy, and bade him escort him to the dance floor. Andy complied, knowing as he did that Brett was his friend. The two actually danced well together, Andy complimenting Brett on his smooth moves. "It's the figure skating..." Brett said. "You dance well, too, you know... Wanna dance another?" "Sure, I guess so. It was fun, really!" Andy and Brett remained on the dance floor, but the next song didn't come. Instead, the DJ rapped on his microphone to get the crowd's attention. "Ladies and gentlemen!" the DJ crooned into the mic. "We said we had something special for you tonight!" At that instant, fog began to envelope the stage set up behind the DJ. "This should be a special treat. Please give your attention to the stage up front!" At that moment, five of the Craig Varsity Cheerleading squad cartwheeled through the fog toward the front of the stage, the lights lowered and a spotlight focused on center stage. "For a special treat tonight, and you've never seen it before... Tonight and tonight only for one two- dance set! Please give it up for... "...YOUR STAR QUARTERBACKS, TIM DICKSON AND SEAN WYYYYYYMAAAAAANNNNN!!!!!!" Brett started laughing. Andy gasped, "What the fuck?" Through the fog, as the music came up, Tim and Sean attired in nothing but loincloths twirled out giving a lively performance, the dance set as an energetic Swing Dance, with Tim leading, to the unlikely choice of the Baltimora song Tarzan Boy. https://youtu.be/ljk0Or9ZlEs The crowd, stunned into silence at first, went crazy. They loudly cheered on their two winning Quarterbacks. Neither Tim, nor Sean showed the least hint at stage nerves. Tim was an athletic lead, sure of his moves and graceful. Sean was, as Tim always said, ever the showman and every bit as graceful and athletic as Tim. The two young men were skilled dancers and made a stunning pair, never putting a foot, or a move wrong. As the song began to come to an end, the pair faded back into the fog just far enough to be invisible to the crowd. The Theatre Club crew went to work, and in less than thirty seconds had the two dressed for their second number. As the music came back up, they stomped onstage, dressed in Matador outfits and brought the house down, this time with Sean in the lead, to Madonna's La Isla Bonita. https://youtu.be/qqIIW7nxBgc The dance they selected for this one was more difficult, it was the Paso Doble. Again, they were pulling it off flawlessly. Not being an extremely fast dance, Andy turned to Brett and snickered, "this isn't their last dance. I know them. They've got something else up their sleeves. I betcha a hundred bucks..." "I think so, too... Especially Sean. He knows how to please a crowd and he knows they're gonna demand an encore. I ain't takin' that bet, bro..." By now, the entire crowd was on their feet, clapping in unison and two-finger whistling. In the background, Brett and Andy noticed Coach Slater with a wry smile on his face and a lump in his throat. They made their way over to Coach and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, Coach!" Andy said, feeling much better now, and somewhat guilty, "you enjoying the show?" "I gotta tell ya, Mr. Churchill, I never expected THIS!" Coach laughed. "I mean, what am I gonna do with all you gay guys, come up with FABULOUS game plans? Jesus Christ, those two..." Coach continued to laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I know," Brett said. "They sure had us fooled! We didn't know they had this planned, did we, Andy..." "Fuck no! I was worried all week what the hell was going on between those two!" "You're a worrywart, Mr. Churchill," Coach laughed. "I see everything. I watched you this last week and I knew what you were thinking. You didn't fool me..." "You did?" Andy asked. "How come you didn't say anything?" "Son, that's not an area where a guy in my job interferes." "I guess so..." By this point, La Isla Bonita was winding down. Sean and Tim disappeared back into the fog. The crowd, still going nuts, was demanding an encore. One minute went by, then two minutes went by. The house lights came back up, and the crowd still was noisily on their feet, clapping and shouting for more. The DJ grabbed his mic, "You guys want more?" he bellowed. "YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" The crowd roared. "I CAN'T HEAR YOOOOOUUUUUUU!!!!!!" "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!" came the deafening roar. The DJ put on a music piece designed to create an anticipatory mood, and the crowd was not letting up. Minute after minute went by. Finally, Sean parted the fog, in his street clothes and with a microphone in his hand. "Everyone enjoy the show?" He asked, smirking to beat the band. The crowd again roared their approval. Tim came up dressed the same way with a microphone in his hand, too. "You guys think you deserve another one?" Tim asked, motioning the crowd for a loud response. Tim's question brought the house down. Tim grabbed his mic, looked at Sean and said, "Well, whadya say, bro?" "I guess we gotta please the masses here, or they might string us up! OK, everyone! You got it!" Both boys disappeared back into the fog and were quickly attended to and redressed by the Theatre Club crew. "Jesus Christ, Dix, I never thought it'd go over like this...I thought we'd be good for a few laughs and that would be it!" "Well, you should thank me for insisting that we add an encore number to the program, dumbass..." "Yeah, yeah... Look, we killed it so far. Let's give `em what they came for on this last one, bro!" "Let's go!" Tim cued the DJ, the music came up and out came the two Quarterbacks in 1950's Greaser outfits. Tight jeans rolled up revealing white socks with black penny-loafers, and for tops simple, white t-shirts with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the left sleeves. They swaggered on stage, acting like 50's thugs, then in an instant beginning a jumpy, skilled, and by far their best dance yet version of the Jitterbug to Gloria Gaynor's I Am What I am. https://youtu.be/QHcDnqIz0jg At this, not only was the entire gym clapping, they were dancing along with their Quarterbacks, fists in the air, each one celebrating. Brett and Andy danced again, this time both smiling. Even Coach Slater took the dance floor. It was a moment that happens seldom in a lifetime. It was a moment the old gym that had witnessed so much in its sixty years had never seen before. Oh, there had been sports championship celebrations, and graduations of probably twenty-five-, or thirty-thousand students over the years, but never in all the long history had there been a moment when everyone present truly felt they were part of the same group. Sean had anticipated something like this might happen and motioned for he DJ to back-cue the song at an opportune moment thereby almost doubling the length of it. Tim yelled in his ear as they danced that Sean was an asshole, that he was sweating his ass off, then laughed, said "Who the fuck cares..." and kept dancing. As the song finally came to an end, the cheers from the dance floor were deafening. Instead of disappearing backstage, Tim and Sean bounded down off the stage onto the dance floor hugging and high-fiving their schoolmates indiscriminately. Both boys were savvy enough to know when to work a crowd and they did it, dripping sweat notwithstanding, with abandon. Making their way back to their beaming boyfriends took almost ten minutes. When in range, Andy ran as fast as he could which still wasn't all that fast up to Sean, wrapped him in a bear hug whispering, "I love you so much!" into his ear. "I love you, too, Brown Eyes. I need a rest! God! That was A LOT harder than we thought it would be!" "ATTENTION PLEASE!" The DJ called out through the PA system. "We're going to announce this year's Homecoming Court! Will the President and Vice-President of the Student Council come to the stage! President and Vice-President!" The announcements of the Homecoming Court went pretty much as expected except for two things. Among the Junior class, Andy polled more votes than Sean. It didn't surprise Sean as he had actively campaigned for votes or Andy and in doing so found out that his plucky, friendly, straightforward boyfriend had his own following among their classmates. He found out as well that Andy's new friend, Scott had been drumming up votes for Andy, too. He was proud of Andy, and more than that he was proud to be Andy's boyfriend. As for himself, Sean didn't care one way, or the other if he was on the Court, or not. John and Kathleen were counted first place in the Sophomore polling. Kathleen was everyone's sweetheart and there was no way she wasn't going to win. John, while a bit of a surprise on the Court as a new kid, wanted to be there with Kathleen and although like Andy he was popular among his classmates, he didn't shy away from using the fact that he was Sean's brother to advance his case when it suited him. Tom Cunningham was unsurprisingly named King. The real surprise came when Colleen Kennedy was crowned Queen. While most of the student body remained respectful, there were a few audible gasps. She was not popular among her classmates. She was seen as being pretty much as Tim described her. Although many felt the vote had to have been manipulated, at this late date no one could prove it. She had an awful record of telling others things she had been told in confidence. Once when another girl decided she'd had enough and stood up to Colleen, that girl's reputation was ruined with fabricated stories mainly reflecting Coleen's slutty nature only substituting names. The Homecoming King and Queen mounted the stage flanked by their Court. Cunns looked positively as if he were searching for a way he could simply disappear. Even Tim, normally one for kidding a friend who was in a pickle before offering to help out was speechless. He felt sorry for his friend being forced to place the crown on someone he regarded as a witch. The Court being in place on the stage, the DJ took the mic. "Will the King please crown his Queen!" For his part, Cunns looked like he was going to throw up. With an undisguised look of disgust on his face, he picked up the crown and placed it squarely and not all that tenderly on Colleen's head. "Alright!" the DJ continued, "Will the King and Queen take the dance floor for the first dance!" Again, Cunns looked as if he would be ill. The music started up and the King and Queen took the floor. Less than a minute into the dance there was a universal gasp from the crowd as Colleen collapsed to the floor, pale and hands trembling. Cunns, smart-ass though he could be, was a gentleman and knelt down repeating Colleen's name, patting her on the cheek trying to revive her. Unsuccessful, and realizing she appeared to be in some kind of distress he yelled out, "CALL 911!" The music stopped and in a minute, or so, the paramedics who had been on scene for the gathering attended to Colleen. They motioned to Principle McVay. "Her blood pressure is low and she appears to be dehydrated and possibly hypoglycemic. We'll need to take her to the Emergency Room. Please sign this form if you will..." Once signed, Colleen was placed on a stretcher and taken out. Principal McVay took the microphone. "Ladies and Gentlemen! I'm sure we're all sympathetic at what just transpired! We've still got the rest of the evening to enjoy. I have the crown here in my hands. Will the King please return to the stage! According to the rules governing the Homecoming Court, if for whatever reason a member of the Court is unable to discharge their duties, the duties will be fulfilled by the runner-up. Will the runner-up for Homecoming Queen take the stage to be crowned!" Cunns gladly took the stage again, and gladly crowned the runner-up who was not only the same girl that Colleen Kennedy tried to destroy during their Sophomore year, but a girl that Cunns had his eye on for the last year, or so. He was pretty sure she would give it up after the dance, too. The thought of being coerced into bed by Colleen Kennedy would likely have prevented him from obtaining an erection in the first place. As the rest of the student body stood by the dance floor watching the King and Queen out for the first dance of the Court, Tim turned to Sean and said, "Jesus, I mean I hate to be an asshole and everything, but Cunns just lucked out..." "I guess so... I mean he looked like he was gonna fuckin' puke when they said she was Queen!" Sean said. "Why do you think I withdrew my name? I knew she'd rig it. I hate to be vindicated like this, but it is what it is..." "What do you think happened to her?" Andy asked. "Hell if I know," Tim replied. "Maybe she didn't eat. Maybe she's on drugs. She didn't look right when she came in tonight." "Well, at least J.R. and Kathleen look like a happy couple," Sean said. And they did. "Ya know, Wymo," Tim answered. "They both got the other one wrapped around their little finger. Are they doing it yet?" "Can't answer, Dix," Sean winked. "OK, I gotcha..." Tim winked back. "You guys wanna go out back of the gym and smoke a bone?" Andy asked. "You guys do your obligatory first dance and then we'll go," Tim said. "I'll make sure Brett comes, too. He was a fucking riot last time he was stoned." "God I wished I'd made a video of that! He was like unreal..." Andy laughed. "Yeah, he was. And that's why he's my boyfriend." Tim said, motioning for Brett who was in a conversation with another team member to come over. "What's up?" Brett asked. "You having a good time?" Tim asked, planting a kiss on Brett's cheek. "Yeah. Yeah, I am... Never came to one of these before. It's nice to see everyone and talk and shit... And you guys were a hit. The crowd was nuts." "Well, those guys are gonna dance then we're gonna go smoke a bone with Cass. You comin'?" "Sure. I guess I can be the entertainment!" Brett laughed. "As long as you entertain my asshole later..." Tim said. "I'll entertain it until you cry." "You better!" "Yeah, and I got poppers and I bought a vibrator, too, so you're in for a long night, Timothy..." "Oh, crap... I just felt some precum..." "Save it, bud. I want a snack later on." "Yes, boss..." Tim laughed. Out on the dance floor, the Homecoming King, Queen and their Court were finishing up the dance in order that the dance floor be opened to everyone. Retiring from the floor, the boys and girls went their separate ways, Sean and Andy's dance partners knowing that they were a couple and that a dance was about all they were going to get, although Sean and Andy did invite their partners to partake in the outside joint. Both girls agreed and it was all good, friendly company. The girls were chattering about Colleen Kennedy's embarrassing showing on the dance floor and conjecturing what on Earth could have been going on. One said she'd seen Colleen on her way into the dance and that she didn't look right. The other said Colleen had tried talking to her, but didn't make sense. She'd thought nothing of it at the time indicating that she hadn't really wanted to talk to "that bitch" anyway. Tim merely offered that it was weird, but what about Colleen wasn't weird. "The hell of it is, what I don't get is how can she be almost a Straight-A student when she's a fucking train wreck in every other way?" "I dunno..." Sean said. "She's in my Math class and she's OK most of the time in there...." "That's because she can't talk then," one of the girls said. Brett, feeling the effects was true to form. "Why don't you guys just tell it like it is. She's a cucking funt!" The entire group roared with laughter. Even Brett who realized his error. At that point, they decided to leave the dance and go get a bite to eat. Sean texted John so he wouldn't look for them to no avail, and the group proceeded to the little Italian restaurant near the school which stayed open past its normal hours for the occasion. Two hours were spent with food, drinks and comradery. Tim and Brett were the first to leave wishing to get back to Tim's house and their aforementioned tryst. The others split up, with Sean and Andy walking the girls back to the school, and then heading back to the Alamo. "Brown Eyes?" Sean said, looking at Andy who was driving. "Yeah?" "When we get home will you make love to me? I don't mean just fuck my ass, but will you make sweet love to me?" "I thought you'd never ask. As long as I live, Sean-o, I'll make love to you any time anywhere. I thought some weird things this week, and I'm sorry. It was just my own insecurity getting the best of me and I'll never let it happen again, OK?" "I know that, hun. And you have nothing to apologize for, or to be insecure about. You can depend on that, so let's just get home and take out clothes off..." "OK!" Andy said with a huge grin, stepping on the gas. For the remainder of the evening and well into the wee hours of the morning, two sets of young lovers pleasured themselves multiple times in rooms heavy with the chlorine and sweet odor of male love. Both couples slept soundly in each other's arms knowing that all was well with the world. Saturday morning came bright and early. The boys made ready for the weekly team meeting with Coach Slater at the school. Almost exactly the time Tim and Brett left for the school, George Dickson received a call on his private home office line. Since very few people other than law enforcement, and a handful of clients and other Attorneys knew that number, George took the call. "George Dickson!" he said into the phone. "Ed Steele here, George. Sorry to bother you this morning on a Saturday. Look, I had a call from a client of mine earlier this morning and it may be something of interest to someone I believe to be one of your clients. This is just a courtesy call..." "I see..." George replied to his long-time professional colleague. "Well, don't keep it a secret, Ed!" George chuckled. George listened while the other Attorney filled him in on the nature of his earlier conversation. "I see..." George repeated once Attorney Steele finished. "Well, what if anything do you propose? I'm rather at a loss for words here..." "I'm wondering if you think it might be a good idea to arrange a meeting with yourself, me and our clients to figure this out. I have no idea if this is something, or nothing. I'm just as puzzled as you are, but if it's something I think it's fair to say that all parties would wish nothing to become public." "That may very well be..." George replied. "Tell you what, let me contact my client and get back to you. I'll try to do it today." "Sounds good, George. Say hello to Peggy for me." "Will do, Ed. I'll be in touch later." "You bet. Bye." As brief as the conversation had been, George made notes during the call. He could scarcely believe what he'd been told. Not because it didn't make sense, but because it did. It made sense in such a way that George knew if what he was thinking was correct there could be a major upheaval within the power structure in town. And upheavals had always been something to be avoided at all costs. What went on in public was one thing, but for those with real power, real power was exercised only with the utmost discretion, only behind closed doors, and only among the few. George assessed what he had to do and then he went ahead and did it. A meeting was arranged for Sunday at 1:00 p.m. at the Country Club in the Founders' Room located deep in the bowls of the Clubhouse basement. It hadn't been used in over a year, and on a matter of this import certainly not for several years since the untimely and accidental death of a local billionaire at the behest of his widow to give reassurance that her late husband's political interests would live on. George diagrammed various contingencies on his trademark 3x5 cards. He then scanned and emailed the cards to his client asking for feedback. About an hour later, George received a call from the client letting him know that while the matter seemed absurd on the face of it, it was certainly clarifying, and that there was no need to pussy-foot. It was pretty much the answer George thought he would get. At the school, the team meeting was short and to-the-point. Sean had come alone today and Andy and John begged off complaining of high homework loads. The NFL players went over the fact that this team had improved tremendously even over the high level of play they exhibited before these meetings began. Well into the second half of the season now, they impressed upon the team that this is the time in any season no matter on what level the game is played that championship teams bear down and push it through to the end. Realizing, as did Coach Slater and the team, that if the playoffs were to be in the cards, the Cougars would have to get past Madison West in the last game. They offered up the strategy of psyching West out, meaning that in the games remaining until West, the Cougars should aim to beat their remaining opponents by the widest possible point margin and by varying their play as much as possible. That way, there would not be one, or two things West could key on to win the game. The old Lineman among the NFL players summed it up, "You can do this guys. You're just going to have to tire your opponents out. Every game. At the level you're playing, if anything's gonna get you, it's gonna be mental errors. So, stay sharp. And never show all your cards. Save some plays back for West and some for the playoffs. Like I said, you guys can do this." The old pros bid the team farewell until next week. Coach Slater then went over the plans for the week's practice and game plan. "Alright men, once again thank you for your time and attention this morning. I'll see you at Monday's practice. You are dismissed." "Well, there's another one in the books, Wymo!" Tim said. "Yup...hold on..." Sean's phone indicated that he had a text. "Hey, I got a text from my dad here. Says I'm supposed to meet him at the warehouse where the Scotch is. He's there now, so I gotta get going." "OK, see ya Monday then!" "Yup, laters, Dix. You, too, Brett." Sean piled into the Equinox making his way to the beer warehouse on the outskirts of town. Arriving, he spotted Joe's XTS in the parking lot and texted him he was there. Joe came out the front door and motioned Sean inside. "Thanks for running out here, son. Let's go to the warehouse." Sean followed Joe through the warehouse and then out the back door. "I thought we were going to inventory the Scotch, dad...." "I already did that, son. There's something else..." "OK, what?" Twenty minutes later, Joe and Sean walked back to their cars. Back at the Alamo, Sean texted Tim that he and Brett should come over right away. He then found Andy and John. Telling them that the other two were on their way over, he said once they got there they'd all meet in the Library. An hour later, the five boys were finishing up their conversation. "Jesus Christ, Wymo," Tim said. "I never would have figured, but it all makes sense now..." "Yeah, well it looks that way, doesn't it, but I won't really know anything until tomorrow." "Sean, you're my big brother and my hero," John said. "I'll be with you tomorrow." "I'll always be with you," Andy said. "You can count on me," Brett added. "Well, we'll all go then," Sean said. "This is my battle and I gotta be the one to fight it. But I know I can win it and I'll need you guys." One by one, they all slapped Sean on the back and hugged him. They all knew he'd win this battle. Everything about him said he would. His coolness. His ability to be aloof. His analytical mind. And the fact that he was in the right. They also strongly felt that the one wishing to bring him low could very well in the end pay a terrible price. Sean was his usual calm self, but his bearing left no doubt that he'd been filled with a terrible resolve. "OK, then guys, be here tomorrow morning then," Sean said. "Oh, we'll be here," Brett said. "You can count on we'll be here." "Thanks, guys." "Wymo, we stick together. Always and forever," Tim said. "And that's a promise for as long as I live." The rest of the day was spent somewhat uneasily, although Sean was resolute that tomorrow he would control events. He discussed the situation further with Joe, Andy and John. While horrified, in some sense it would represent closure, and possibly even more. At 11:00 on Sunday morning, the four headed out to the Country Club, Joe and John in the XTS and Andy and Sean in the Cruze. "Sean-o, penny for your thoughts..." "Well, I guess we'll see. I mean it might open up all kinds of issues. And if it does, then we're gonna have some things to decide you and me." "I know, and that's OK. I'll do whatever it is I need to do. I love you so and you don't even have to ask." Sean patted Andy's thigh, not saying a word, in that sort of unspoken communication only two hearts that beat as one can have. Arriving at the Country Club, the group was joined by George Dickson, Tim and Brett in one of the private rooms. "OK, guys," George sad, "That door over there leads to the basement and then to a hallway to the Founders Room. We're going to have a quick breakfast, then Joe and I will go down. Now, that telephone over there is a private, inside line. It has a ring tone of two quick rings like a European telephone. When it rings, Sean you pick it up. It will be your dad calling you down." "OK, George," Sean replied. "Son," George said, "I know you're gonna nail it. Don't worry." "Trust me, I'm not worried...." Sean said. Joe patted Sean on the shoulder, saying, "Sean, just tell it like it is." "I intend to." Although he'd had only the shortest time to prepare Joe and Sean, George know he was working with good material and they both knew what to do. The meal finished, the two older men descended the secret staircase into the bowels of the Clubhouse. Arriving at a pair of medieval-looking doors, George inserted a large skeleton key into one of them, swung it open and they walked in. The room was modeled on an old, German Rathskeller with vaulted ceilings, half-timbered walls, sturdy, rustic tables and chairs and a bar where occupants of the room were expected to help themselves. No staff was ever admitted into the Founders Room when members were present. In fact, no Club staff were ever in the room as the members having access, which were few in number, provided privately employed and paid staff to clean and stock the room. Not finding anyone else there, Joe and George took a table. As George had suggested, both men took out their iPads and nonchalantly read the news as if doing nothing more than sitting on a Park bench. Presently a key clunked in the door, the door swung open and in walked two other men. "Ed..." George said. "Bill..." "Good afternoon, George," the man George addressed as Ed said. "Ed, this is Joe Wyman. Joe this is Ed Steele and Bill Kennedy. Let's have a seat." "Dickson, I didn't come here to fucking socialize," the man introduced as Bill Kennedy said. "Let's get this show on the road." "I'd like to know what this is all about," Joe stated even though he already knew what it was about. "Joe," Ed Steele began, "I represent Bill here. This is a serious matter..." "OK, so what is it?" Joe asked again. Bill Kennedy lost it. "Wyman, your fucking kid raped my daughter and she's pregnant! That's what the fuck this is all about! I'm gonna ruin that punk and you right along with him!" "Bill!" George cautioned, "Ed, is your client sure he's in possession of all the facts?" "Fuck you, Dickson!" Bill Kennedy bellowed. "She had to be taken to the Hospital! She's fucking pregnant! She says that so-called faggot son of Wyman raped her!" "I'd be careful if I were you, Kennedy," Joe said. "I'm going to bring Sean into this meeting. After all, it concerns him directly." "I don't think so, Wyman," Bill Kennedy said. "We're here to talk about what we're gonna do about this, and how he's gonna pay for what he did to my daughter." "Look, Kennedy, I really don't give a shit what you think. You're accusing my son of a crime. He has the right to face his accuser. And he will." With that, Joe picked up the telephone and instructed Sean to come down. Not having a key, Sean had to knock at the door. Once inside, Attorney Steele bade him have a seat. "I think I'll stand, thank you. Anyway, how can I help you guys?" Sean asked. "You piece of shit, you raped my daughter and now she's carrying your child!" Kennedy bellowed. "First of all, we haven't been introduced so I don't know who you are, and secondly I have no idea what you're talking about." Sean stated in his unruffled way, looking Bill Kennedy square in the eye. "Sean," George intervened, "This is Bill Kennedy. Colleen Kennedy is his daughter. It appears that Colleen is pregnant. She claims the child is yours and that you raped her. The other gentleman is Bill's Attorney, Ed Steele." Sean stood silent for a second. He squared his shoulders, looked Bill Kennedy dead in the eye again and in a calm, even voice but one that brooked no nonsense demanded, "Really... What proof does she have..." "My daughter wouldn't lie!" "Mr. Kennedy, I hardly know your daughter, but that's neither here nor there. With all due respect to you, from what little I do know of Colleen, she does whatever she wants. Including methamphetamines if what I've heard is correct. Did they test her for that, too? Look, I'm not here for a pissing contest so I'm going to say this once and once only. And I want you to hear me when I say this: I did not rape your daughter. In fact, as I said I hardly know her. Just so you know, I'm gay. I have a boyfriend who is the only person I've ever had sex with in my life. You have the right to waste your own time, sir, and you can certainly pay your Attorney over there to waste his time if he feels like it, but you have no right to waste my time with these accusations. I don't know who you think you are." Kennedy's Attorney was gobsmacked. "Bill, perhaps we should..." "Bullshit! I know what my daughter told me! She's been to the Doctor! They had to haul her off in a fucking ambulance! She's fucking pregnant! This piece of shit raped her! He's gonna fuckin' pay!" Joe and George looked on, deciding not to interject as they both saw the trap Sean was laying for Kennedy. "You say your daughter is pregnant, Mr. Kennedy? I believe you. I'll make you a deal. I will take a paternity test if Colleen first provides a DNA sample to the Janesville Police Department." "Why you... You little fucking prick! I oughta beat the shit out of you right here..." "Calm down, Bill. Anything that goes on here right now, there are witnesses," Kennedy's Attorney advised. "That is my deal, Mr. Kennedy," Sean said. "It's not negotiable. You can take it, or leave it. It's up to you. And as your Attorney just told you, there are witnesses to what I just said and also to you threatening me. If you don't want to take my deal, that's fine, but be careful what you wish for because trust I don't care if it's in the newspaper, or not. I've had just about enough of this nonsense, so go ahead and press charges against me if that's what you wanna do, but don't fuck with me. You don't scare me." Bill Kennedy was beside himself with rage. He was red-faced, sweating, shaking, lips covered in spittle, and looking like he was about to take leave of his senses. "Bill, as your Attorney I'd advise you to accept Sean's deal. It will prove that he either is, or is not the father. If he proves to be the father, we can revisit the other issues at that time. And we will still be keeping this whole thing out of the newspapers." "Fine! I fucking accept your `deal' you fucking little weasel. You lawyers draw up the agreement right now, and have Sean and his dad sign it. I'll sign it, too. I want it notarized. And I want an original copy. You're gonna fry, boy. You mark these words." "Kennedy, it was your idea for a written agreement. You will sign first and then Sean and I will sign, Joe said. "Our Attorneys will notarize. We've listened to your tirade long enough here. My son says he didn't rape your daughter. The bottom line is I will not be dictated to and as you just saw, neither will my son. Whatever the Attorneys agree, we will honor. And that's gonna be all she wrote," Joe said. Kennedy's Attorney nodded. Kennedy simply sat sullenly. "Fine!" he said, finally. "You little fucking piece of shit. God damn you!" Sean stood stock still, staring down Bill Kennedy and not saying a word. When the Attorneys finished drawing up the Agreement, Sean indicated that he would sign first. "I haven't got anything to hide," he said, "so let's just get this over with. You call your Doctor, Mr. Kennedy and arrange for us to do what we agreed. You're in for the surprise of your life." With those words, Bill Kennedy stared back at Sean with a look of remaining anger but tempered by a cold and steady fear. "Are we done here, gentlemen?" George asked. "I believe we are," Ed Steele replied. "Bill call me on Monday and let me know when the Doctor's appointments are. We will need to have a Police Detective present when your daughter is there to collect the DNA sample." "Make it Detective Somerville," George said. "It'll be Somerville," Steele answered. "I'll be in touch Monday then, Ed," George said. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend." With that, all the men filed out of the room. Back upstairs, George gave the others a run-down of the happenings, swearing all of them to secrecy. Tim echoed his father's admonition of secrecy. "It's how it goes in this town, guys. It's how it has to be. It's a little bit different of a world... We'll get through it. That's why we're all here. We got your back, Wymo." On the way home, Andy asked Sean what he thought. "And, there are a finite number of possibilities here. Either Colleen is pregnant, or she's not. If she isn't then we're done with it. If she is then I am either the father, or I am not. If I am the father, that's proof Colleen's the one who raped me. I'd be more concerned about the baby, though. She's so irresponsible. And I don't trust her asshole, idiot dad. If she's pregnant, then I'm going to be a father. And in that case, I would not leave the baby with Colleen for a nanosecond once it's born. No. In that case I will raise the baby...I mean we. Could you be a dad, too, Brown Eyes?" "Of course, Sean-o. It'd be our family. Or the start of our family. I wanted kids. Maybe not this fast, but I wanted kids. If we end up with a baby to care for, then we'll care for it. And raise our child properly. I could not let her have the kid, either. No way." "That's why I love you, Andrew." "I love you, too. Have you thought of a name? I mean, if we do end up with a baby?" "Yeah, yeah I have... If it's a girl, we'll call her Valerie Katherine Churchill Wyman and if it's a boy he will be Joseph Leonard Churchill Wyman." "Beautiful names, Sean-o. I'm almost hoping we do end up with a baby now..." "I guess I do, too, but first we have to see how this works out." "Well, if there is gonna be a baby, how are you gonna get it away from Colleen?" "I'll fucking blackmail her. She either gives up the baby without a fight, or I press rape charges against her and I end up with the baby at the end of the day just the same. They'll never give a baby to someone convicted of rape and drugging her victim. Her dad will be too scared for anything to become public. He won't challenge me. He'd probably want to settle out of Court. I win either way. I told that fucker he didn't scare me. I don't think he knows why he doesn't scare me, though. At least he doesn't know yet. He doesn't know that if there is a pregnancy and if I am the father, then his daughter was the rapist, not me. He doesn't have a fucking clue." Just then Sean's phone beeped with a text. Sean saw the text was from Tim and it said to call him. "Hey, Dix, what's up?" "You guys OK?" "Yeah, we're good..." "Look, I just got a call from Ginny. She said for you, Andy, me and Brett to meet her at her house tomorrow morning at 10:00." "Why?" "She didn't say. But she said it was, and I quote, imperative. She said she'd have breakfast brought in for us." "Um, OK, I guess..." "See ya then, bro. And don't forget, we all got your back." "Thanks, man. See ya tomorrow then." "What's that all about?" Andy asked. "We're having breakfast tomorrow at Ginny's. 10:00." "Why?" "Dunno, but Dix said it's imperative." "Just you and me?" "We're gonna take J.R., too. I mean, I have no idea what it's about but he's our brother and he's gonna be kept in the loop on whatever is going on here. I think that's the right thing to do." "Yeah, I agree about taking J.R. He's gotta be part of what we do going forward." In the morning, Ginny readied everything for her guests. They would meet in her conference room, and she had the caterer set up the food buffet style with pitchers of juice and a large urn of coffee. Once they were all there and seated with their food, Ginny began. "OK, guys, I'm gonna get right to it, and no jokes about how hot you are, either, this time because this is important business. Now, Tim you know the protocol. The rest of you listen up. What is said in this room stays in this room. I'm allowing you all to stay because from my intuition you are going to be part of the next generation. All of you. This concerns what's going on with you, Sean." "Um, Ginny, tell me what it is you know..." Sean said, somewhat surprised. "I'm not surprised you asked me that," Ginny said. "Let me put it this way. Nothing happens in this town that I don't know about if I want to know about it. How I know isn't important. What's important is that I know. I know about the deal between you and the Kennedys, Sean. I know you've been threatened, I know what you've been threatened about, and I know you didn't do anything wrong. So let's just get that part of it out of the way and move on here." "OK," Sean agreed. "Sean, it has come to my attention that it's possible you may become a father a little earlier in your life than you'd planned. Correct?" "That's possible, yes..." "OK, here's the deal. If that comes to be, I don't want that baby to be raised by the Kennedys. I want you to raise it, and I'm going to give you the ammunition you need to make that happen." "Alright..." "Sean, when Bill Kennedy inherited the family company there was something in the inheritance that wasn't quite right. You see, when Bill's dad died, the company was to be inherited only by legitimate, lineal descendants of the founder, Bill's great-great-grandfather. Now, Bill was raised as a Kennedy, and that part is true. But the skeleton in the closet, and Bill Kennedy knows it, is that he is not a legitimate descendant of the founder. He should not have inherited the company. It should have gone to his younger brother." "I'm not totally following," Brett said. "Alright, long story short, when I was a young girl I had an affair with Bill's dad. He was already married at the time. I got pregnant. Bill Kennedy is my son. At the time I was young, unmarried and had no power. I was paid $50,000 to shut up and disappear." "How will knowing that make any difference?" Sean asked. "Sean, a while back I gave Tim's dad a folder for safe keeping. In that folder is Bill Kennedy's original birth certificate. It names me as his mother, and his dad as his father and Bill knows it's true because his father told him just before he died. I kept that birth certificate all these years because something just told me not to trust Bill. So, that's how the knowledge will be useful. If you end up as a father, and Bill tries to keep the baby, or threaten you in any way at all, you tell him you've got his birth certificate. He'll know exactly what that means. I made a copy before I sent the original with George. Here it is just in case it comes to that and he says he doesn't believe you." Ginny handed Sean an envelope which he accepted. "When are you gonna know, Sean?" "I'm not sure. I'm waiting to take a paternity test, so I guess after that..." "Alright, and something else, too. Trust me, I know how if this doesn't go his way Bill will at all costs want to keep it out of the news. Don't fall for that. You let them arrest Colleen. That girl is nothing but trouble. Your ace in the hole is having her locked up while you negotiate a deal with Bill. That way if he pulls any bullshit you just tell him that at the snap of your fingers George will tell the D.A. to go ahead with prosecution. His asshole will pucker faster than he can say his own name. Sean, if there is a baby that baby will be my great-grandchild. I will let nothing happen to that baby. And you can take that to the bank." "Wow! Ginny, you can sure play hardball!" Andy exclaimed. "I told you guys when you came to town that if you ever needed anything to ask old Ginny. I wasn't talking bullshit. And I don't play to lose. I won't see Sean hurt here, or his family. And that includes the baby if there is one." "Ginny," Sean said, "You are a good friend." "Yes I am. And you, my dear, are the future. Now, if Colleen turns out to be pregnant, what will be done with her is she will go to a Convent up near Stevens Point. There she will finish High School and deliver the baby. I've already set it up if it comes to that. She will receive proper medical care of course, and in an environment where she can't get in trouble. And I don't give a shit if Bill likes that, or not. That's just how it'll be. Unless he wants to lose everything he's got which he will never do. And he knows better than to fuck with me. I could bury him in more ways than one. And now so can you." "Ginny?" John asked. "Yes, sweety..." "This is unreal, and I'm really glad you're gonna help Sean, but I just don't understand what it's got to do with the rest of us..." "My dear, the five of you will end up running this town someday. You will have no secrets from each other. Someday I'm not gonna be around, and I want this to be a lesson in preparation for you. Somewhere along the line will come a situation, or two, where you guys are gonna hafta play hardball. You're gonna need to be ready, and you're gonna hafta know how it's done the right way. Only a precious few in this town really know how it's run. And that's fine. The rest of them don't need to know. You give real power to people like those dumbasses on the City Council and it goes to their head like strong drink. Let them think they have power. They don't. If it weren't for those of us behind the scenes, nothing would ever get done and everything would go to hell. It's been that way around here since probably the Civil War. I fell into the position I have and so did the rest of you except for Tim. There will be great rewards, but there will also be great demands. For example, you guys don't think General Motors decided all on their own because they're nice people to re-open the plant here, do you? And there were families needing those jobs. Politicians could never make that happen. Not in a million years. It takes behind-the-scenes clout. That's just one example. I need to hand on what I know so that you will be ready when the time comes. And there are others who will help you as well, including your dad, Tim." "Wow..." Brett said. "This is like something out of a movie..." "Movies aren't real, sweet Brett," Ginny replied, winking. "This is as real as a fucking heart attack. I see a lot in each of you. Tim is sincere and honest. And he provides continuity. Brett has brains. Sean has clarity of mind. Andy is industrious. John is driven. That's what I see... But the biggest thing you guys got is your love for each other. And you're all tough. You all know how to call a spade a spade. And you are all discreet. You will make a perfect team." "I'm thinking you're going to tell us that we must remain secret," Andy said. "That's right, Andy. You must." "We will be good," John said. "Yes, you will. I'm sure of that," Ginny smiled. "Now, I think we're done here. So, Sean, you concentrate on the matter at hand. And keep me in the loop." "I will, Ginny. And thanks. You mean the world to me." "So do you, so do all of you." The boys took their leave, each one giving Ginny a hug on the way out. "Sean-o, I can't believe what I just fucking heard," Andy said. "Me neither," John piped up. "I'm speechless," Brett said. "Let's just all do what Ginny said and get Sean through this," Tim concluded. "I had some idea of what Ginny told us, but not really the full extent of it." "I will be ready," John said. "You probably already are, Squirt," Sean smirked. "Why don't you guys come in for a minute," Tim said. Once through the door, George greeted the boys. "Let's go out on the patio," George said. The boys noticed the patio had been set up with lemonade, iced tea and some light snacks. "Boys, I know pretty much what Ginny went over with you. I can't overstate the importance of discretion. Loose lips sink ships, you know." "I see..." Brett teased. George cracked up laughing. "Brett, you're something else. I saw something in you the first time we met. And the rest of you, too. And I want you to know you are each other's strength. I don't run anything around here. Peggy does. There's always the one nobody knows about. Now, John, you keep it up with Kathleen. You two will make a powerful team. You're both very young, but for your age you're both old souls if you know what I mean. I will always be here for all of you guys until the day I start pushing up daisies. And so will Peggy. We are at your service." Sean sat shaking his head in semi disbelief. "And Sean, I heard from Attorney Steele today. Your appointment for the paternity test is Monday morning at 10:00 a.m. Your pass has already been cleared with Principal McVay. You will not be expected at school until afternoon classes. Colleen's appointment for the DNA sample is at 9:00 Monday. I insisted she go in first and that I've verified the Police are in possession of the sample before you are to be tested. I also insisted they draw enough DNA for three samples in case something happens. Once I know that either way, I will give you a call to go ahead with it. I will not text you, so if for some reason you should get a text saying it's me you are to ignore it." "Sounds like a plan," Sean said. "I have a complaint prepared that will be filed if it turns out Colleen's DNA matches the sample the State Crime Lab already has. If that is the case, she'll be apprehended within an hour, or two of notice to the Court. Sean, your dad knows of this of course. Kennedy and Steele don't know about it and they will not know about it. And no one else will know about it. No one. Capish?" The boys all nodded solemnly. END CHAPTER THIRTY