Pinochle
Chapter 66 - President Benson?
By E Walk
Born September 4, 1938, Died July 10, 2011
[his email address is monitored by his friends]
Copyrighted by the author
Edited by Will B/Radio Rancher
This is John.
When I woke up on Wednesday morning, Brian and Timmy were lying on the sofa. Timmy was lying so his head was on Brian's shoulder. I listened and it seemed as if Brian was quietly reading a story to Timmy.
I heard Brian say, "The End."
Timmy looked up at Brian, "Daddy Angel, that was so neat. No one has ever held me and read me a story before. Can we do this again sometime?"
Brian hugged Timmy, "Yep, but now you need to get your Uncle John up so he won't be late for school. Go give him a kiss to get him moving."
Timmy crawled on the bed and kissed me, "Uncle John, Daddy Angel said you need to get up."
I started to grab Timmy but changed my mind remembering that my ribs were still a little tender, "Timmy, tell your bossy Dad that I'm playing hooky today. I'm too tired to go to school."
Poor Timmy didn't know how to react but Brian did, "Look you invalid, if I have to fill in for you at the quarterback position, then you will go to school. Now get out of bed. Come on Timmy, let's go get breakfast started so the slow poke can get his engines refilled or emptied as the case might be."
I yelled as Brian and Timmy were leaving, "Benson, that's no way to talk around a seven year old."
I took a quick shower and went to join the other two guys in the kitchen. I was the last person to arrive. Brian handed me a fried egg on an English muffin with some fresh fruit. I watched as Timmy tentatively started to eat and it was as if his sandwich disappeared.
"Daddy Angel, that was good. Will we have things like this every morning? At my old house, we never ate anything for breakfast except cereal, and most of the time that was what I had for lunch and dinner too."
That was a wake up lesson for Morgan and Lauren. They didn't question Timmy's presence anymore.
Brian was so calm as he hugged Timmy and made him promise not to get into any trouble. "John and I need to leave for school now. I'll see you after football practice tonight. Make sure you help Grandpa and Grandma when you get home from school."
As we were driving to pick up Lindsey and Robin, Brian asked, "Johnny, what have I gotten myself into. It's as if everyone expects me to do more than I can. Look at me, I'm a fifteen year old nothing."
I pulled into an empty parking lot and stopped the car, "Brian, you may be fifteen years old, but you sure aren't a nothing. Do you realize that almost every student at Fremont High looks at you as something special. We both need to think positive because we are both going to have some challenging times ahead. Brian, I would like to kiss you. You are a very special person and I love you as an older brother would."
I thought Brian was going to start to cry, "John, let's go get Lindsey and Robbi so we're not late for first hour."
This is Brian.
As the four of us were walking from the parking lot to the school, there was no one giving us a hard time. People waved as we walked by and I started to wonder, "What's happening?"
I went to my first period class and was working on my Timmy's Angel story when Mr. Peters came and sat down beside me. "Brian, I don't know what's happening, but there have been twenty people who have requested to be able to take the fifth hour art class that you are facilitating. What do you want me to tell the administration?"
I was dumbfounded. "Sir, that's up to you and the administration. We can take as many students as we have space and materials for, especially at first. If the people are serious about art, we can have the students provide some of their own supplies later on if they want to continue."
The bell rang and I thought to myself, 'I'll never get my story about Timmy written.'
John was waiting for me when I got to my fourth period class. "Hey Brian, I didn't know you were running for the Freshmen Class Presidency?"
I looked at John, "What have you been smoking? What are you talking about?"
John looked confused, "Can't you read. There are signs plastered all over the walls saying 'Vote For Brian Benson for the Freshman Class President."
Class started and we were busy working on a project so we didn't have time to talk. As we walked out of the classroom after the bell rang we were met by Lindsey and Robin. Lindsey started on me, "Brian, why didn't you tell us that you wanted to be the president of the freshman class, we could have helped you make all of the signs."
I looked at the three of them, "I don't know what you've been drinking because I'm not running for anything."
John pointed to a sign that read, 'Brian Benson for President of the Class of 2012.'
I was stunned. I looked at the sign and turned to the other three people, "People, this has got to be a joke. I had nothing to do with it. Let's get something to eat, I'm starved. We were sitting at the table eating and some of the other football players joined us.
As I finished eating, I looked around the table, "I hope you will excuse me, but I need to go get ready for my next class. I have no idea what to expect. The administration is threatening me with a number of new students."
John stood with me, "I'll go with you in case you need help. I'm already enrolled in the class so surely they can't and won't kick me out."
When we got to the room, there was a big note on the chalk board, 'The fifth hour art class will be meeting in room 417 for the time being.'
I looked at John, "Where is room 417?"
John led me to the adjacent corridor and when I walked in I almost fainted. The room was huge and there were thirty work stations for the students to work at. I thought to myself, 'I've got to be dreaming, there is no way that anyone will pay attention to a fifteen year old. This is probably going to turn into a fiasco.'
When the tardy bell rang, every work station was filled. I looked at Mr. Peters and he indicated that this was my dilemma. I looked at the assembled people. "We're going to continue to work with pastels or chalks today. I have arranged a display and the lights are such that you are all going to see the display differently. For those of you who were not here yesterday we, the class, made a likenesses of Mr. Peters. Today we are going to do a still life. I'll come by and make suggestions as to how you might make you pictures more interesting."
This is John.
Brian was so calm. He walked around and spent time with every student. I'm sure he purposely ignored me until just before the bell rang, "Johnny, you're doing great. Why don't we call and see if your brothers can come over after dinner to spend some time with you and Timmy. I am going to be busy getting ready for the trip to England."
When we finally got to football practice, the coach looked at Brian, "Well if it ain't the artist and President Brian Benson. We're so glad that you could honor us with your presence."
The entire team was watching to see what Brian might say.
Brian looked at Coach Mitchell, "Look Coach, we can't help it if some of us have talents other than playing with a pigskin with strings. At least ten of your players are in the art class that I'm taking and they all have some talent. Maybe you could learn something if you joined us. As far as the president thing, I had nothing to do with it. Now can we get on with practice or will that tax your mind too much?"
The team followed Brian onto the field and he and the Captain, Todd Messing, led the guys in the warm up exercises. Brian didn't stop there. He had the guys running the agility course after he ran it. Brian was leading by example again.
The guys lined up to start to the scrimmage and Brian was hitting as hard as anyone else. In fact, the coach yelled at him to back off on a couple of occasions.
Brian yelled back, "Coach, the Columbus people aren't going to back off. I'm fine."
Talk about a whirlwind. I was beginning to think that I was living in the center of a tornado. After dinner, I was sent to pick up my two brothers. Brian even fed the guys a snack before I took them home.
When I returned from taking my two brothers home, Brian and Timmy were lying on the bed. Timmy had his head propped on Brian's shoulder. Brian was reading to Timmy again. When he finished, he looked at Timmy, "Go to the bathroom and brush your teeth. Uncle John and I need to do some things for school tomorrow."
Brian hugged Timmy and tucked him in. "If we're too noisy tell us to be quiet."
Brian had already taken his shower with Timmy so he sent me to take my shower. When I came out Brian was sitting on the bed making a picture of the sleeping Timmy with his pastels. He looked up at me as I was putting on my shorts. I sat down beside him and watched as he finished the work. He labeled the work Brian's Angel.
I put my arm around Brian and whispered, "Brian, you have fallen in love with Timmy, haven't you?"
Brian laid back against me, "Johnny, I have fallen in love with both of you. I know you're going to be leaving soon as I am sure Timmy will, also. I am going to be left with no one to love or who loves me."
I pulled Brian close, "Brian, I don't think you will ever be alone. Remember you already have Chase and now you have Timmy and who knows how many other adoring fans. It will be interesting to see who organized your campaign for the presidency of the Class of 2012."
Brian relaxed against my shoulder. "John, I am totally confused by the effort that the person or persons have put into that campaign without me even knowing about it. I'm almost afraid to find out who organized the effort."
Thursday was a repeat of Wednesday and everyone was present for the art class. Brian showed them how to use charcoals and even Mr. Peters was trying his hand at making a charcoal print.
When we got to football practice, Coach Mitchell announced, "Today is a no contact day, so we can make sure that we don't have any more injuries. Anyone caught making contact will run ten laps."
The no contact practice was stopped when Brian went to the center and taped him on the inside of the thigh to get him to center the ball to Brian. Coach Mitchell went roaring onto the field, "Benson, I said no contact."
Brian turned to the Coach, "Up yours too, coach. If I have to run ten laps, so do you or I'm going to be a no-show for the game tomorrow night. Now let's get going. We don't have all day."
Brian took off running and the Coach knew he had been had so he started to run, too. Todd, the Team Captain, motioned for the other players to start running also. I sat back and started to laugh as Brian started to lap the other runners. Most of the other team members just sat down when the reached their limit. When Brian finished his ten laps, he didn't even appear to be winded. He came over to me and started to talk. "That should teach the Coach to not mess with me."
The Coach came to where we were standing after he finished eight laps of the track. The other players gathered around to see what was going to happen.
Brian looked at Coach Mitchell, "What's the matter, Coach? Did you run out of steam. Don't you know the old adage, 'If you can't do it, then you shouldn't expect someone else to do it either.'"
Coach Mitchell wasn't amused, "Benson, I want to see you in my office immediately."
Brian stood his ground, "Coach, if you have something to say to me then say here in front of the team. If you're going to make this a personal vendetta then I won't be here for the game tomorrow night. I tapped Roland on the thigh because we were going on a silent count. I'm serious Coach, either you get out of the Neanderthal age or you aren't going to have a team and you will be looking for a new job next year. These guys have busted their butts and you don't even acknowledge the effort they have put out."
Brian turned and walked away. The coaches were dumbfounded when the rest of the team followed Brian into the locker room. I went to see what was happening and Todd was holding Brian who was shaking. "Guys, I'm sorry. I just don't take unjustified criticism very well."
We hadn't realized that Coach Mitchell was standing there listening. Brian continued, "It's almost as if Coach Mitchell is trying to make me look bad. I'm going to need to check to see what his connection with the ex-Pastor Waite might have been."
The conversation was interrupted by Superintendent Black, "Brian, what did you mean by that last remark? Are you saying that Mr. Mitchell might be getting back at you for exposing that fraud McCoy?"
Brian looked at Dr. Black, "Sir, I don't know what is happening for sure. I'm sure that if John wasn't hurt, Mr. Mitchell would be all over my butt like gravy. He knows that I have him between a rock and a hard place if I don't play. It almost seems like he isn't really trying to make sure the team gets better."
Doctor Black looked concerned, "Brian, those are some very serious accusations."
Brian stood tall, "Doctor Black, I didn't make any charges at all, Sir. I just stated my personal opinion."
One of the players, who I knew went to my old church, spoke up, "Doctor Black, I know for a fact that Mr. McCoy, alias Pastor Waite, and Mr. Mitchell were friends. Mr. McCoy called my parents one night and asked if I could help him with a project at his house. When I got the Pastor's house, Mr. McCoy and Mr. Mitchell were naked and they tried to get me to undress and do things with them. They were both drunk and I heard Mr. Mitchell say as I was leaving, 'Don't worry Ralphie, I'll make sure the team doesn't win many games this year and I'll blame it on them being heathens.'"
Doctor Black looked at Mr. Mitchell, "You're suspended without pay. We will have an investigation into the matter to determine what should happen to you."
Brain started to undress, so the rest of the team did likewise and the showers were overflowing with bodies. Brian came out almost immediately and dressed, "John, I want to go home. I don't feel very well."
Brian didn't say anything on the way to the Benson house. When we walked in, Lauren met us, "Chris, just called to thank you two guys for leaving him without a ride."
Brian plopped down in the nearest chair and started to sob, "I can't seem to do anything right. I think I'll go to bed without dinner,"
Timmy came bouncing in, "Daddy Angel, guess what. Jeremy asked me to come over after dinner. Can I go, please"
Brian's mood seemed to improve by just having Timmy around. "Timmy, I hope you were good for everyone today."
Timmy held Brian's face, "Daddy Angel, I tried to be good. No one had to yell at me"
Brain hugged Timmy, "Good, we'll take you to Jeremy and Jason's house after we do the dinner dishes. Now let's go see if we can help get dinner ready."
I breathed a sigh of relief. At least Brian is going to be okay for the time being.
Comments:
Half-way through this chapter, I was wondering what the Coach was up to, but now all has been made clear by our author who tells a great story. What else can I say? I just want to keep reading this chapter and the next, and the next. Thank you, Ed, for this story. Will B.
Darryl's Notes: I had a feeling there was something up with that nasty coach. I can't understand how someone that is supposed to be religious can act so totally hateful. I can hardly wait to see what happens next.
Darryl AKA The Radio Rancher
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