The Gym & the Office
You have got to be kidding me! Nathan simply had to smile to himself. Shane Phelps sat with Todd McElroy about eleven bleachers up from the court floor – about seven or so rows behind to Nathan’s right. Coach Joshua Henderson tapped his P.A.D.D. as he read off the roster. Nathan turned back to Jon, dropping his head down. “Yup, perfect.”
Jon laughed. “Relax. This wouldn’t be a good story to tell without such drama.”
Coach Henderson started in with the Gym policies as well as his version of the now ever so familiar progressive discipline policies speech. Practically everyone in Hendersonville knew of THE Joshua Henderson, one of the dozen or so coaches at CS Hawkins Senior High, who was also one of the direct line descendants of Henry Harold Henderson (triple H or H3 as many now called him), the founder and first Mayor of Hendersonville.
The family settled in Tennessee centuries ago (of course) and never left the hobble that became a village that became a town, which grew into a city, which changed into a metropolis. Henry Henderson arrived first in Nashville, with his brother Jeremiah, and then moved to this area. They had come from Texas, having recently assisted the famed rancher Jacob McCandles in the “Fain Affair.” And these brothers were not unknowns themselves. They had made names for themselves some years earlier working various stints as capable deputies for the likes of John Langston of Turley, Wyatt Earp of Dodge City as well as City Marshal Paden of Silverado.
When the brothers, Hendersonville (obviously) did not exist, and what did was nothing more than a collection of shacks. He quickly took charge, calling on the three or so prominent businessmen: “Come!” He barked. “We’re forming a fuck’n government.” He and his brother first started as the local town marshals – if Hendersonville could really be called a town at that time. Shortly thereafter, they became local heroes with the Silver Mine Hostages, when a pair of escaped convicts had taken a group of school kids and trapped them, along with a few laborers, in a local mine shaft. Every grade school kid here now knows the legend. Henry credited the confrontation’s resolution that led to their release with what he learned from Mr. McCandles.
Jeremiah stood just outside the mine entrance, as Henry entered through a side tunnel. Jeremiah lured one escaped convict out with an offer of water, some food, and, of course, a chest with what was supposed to be the demanded ransom. The convict emerged, carrying the dynamite plunger, threatening to explode the entire mine if he saw any tricks. When the convict knelt down to open the chest, Jeremiah quietly pulled out from under his coat a sawed-off eight gauge shotgun, practically a hand held cannon. Jeremiah began to whisper to the convict as Henry subdued his accomplice and hurried to disconnect the dynamite.
“And now you understand. Anything goes wrong, anything at all, your fault, my fault, nobody’s fault, it won’t matter; I’m gonna blow your head off. No matter what else happens, no matter who gets killed, I’m gonna blow your head off.” Given that the chest was full of nothing but newspaper clippings, he knew immediately that the Hendersons meant what they said.
No one fired a shot, and Henry led the hostages out of the shaft safely.
The event caught the attention of someone in Washington. Shortly thereafter, a small three car train called Wanderer 1 arrived in Nashville, and Henry resigned as Mayor. He left to work a stint with a retiring special agent named James T. West and his young apprentice Thomas Sawyer of a relatively young agency called the United States Secret Service. At that time, it focused on unique and unusual criminal activities throughout this growing and forming country. Many have written books on their lives. The citizens established the town’s name by an overwhelming popular vote.
The Hendersons have resided in their city for the gods knew exactly how long, innumerous generations, centuries in fact: fifty seven Presidents, sixteen hundred ninety-two Nobel Prize winners, four global wars, two civil conflicts, twelve national conflicts, one hundred eighty-three SuperBowls – and all that took place after Henry returned to Hendersonville and resumed his duties as Mayor.
When originally conceived, many thought an elaborate high school gymnasium, let alone three, stood simply as an indulgence, an extravagance ill afforded and a waste of scarce resources not to mention finances. Nevertheless, the city continued to grow, its population spread, and, through the virtually unstoppable determination of Mr. McCay, Hawkins boasted one of, if not the, finest physical education programs in the State. Nathan glanced around, trying to take his mind off the two yahoos behind him. This facility held four complete basketball courts, bleachers on all sides (sixteen to be precise), a third level multilane track with various weight rooms, as well as racquetball, squash, and handball courts on the second tier. Mr. McCay insured that this school district took physical education quite seriously.
Four separate sections used the facilities during Nathan’s gym period: one group, two sections, were the varsity football team; Nathan’s real football team made-up the third, while unaffiliated students made-up the fourth. Actual team practice for real football did not start until closer to winter break, as their season did not begin till after Homecoming. For now, they kept sharp with Saturday afternoon practices. The Athletic Department thus used Gym as a way to form cohesion amongst the various teams members.
Shane Anthony Phelps sat stoically, looking down at the ever-so-familiar Detroit Tigers baseball cap as its owner chatted with the boy next to him. Robert Gibson had known this newcomer on sight, and thus Shane came to know his name as they walked away from the library this morning: Nathaniel Bathelamew Baird. Nathan had been close friends with a Dosser named David Davis. In fact, the two of them had practically been brothers since grade school until a “falling-out” occurred early this past summer. David had since become pretty good friends of Robert Gibson. David’s father, moreover, had served in the military with Nathan’s father (it’s how the two actually met), and he (David’s father) now served in Governor Gibson’s administration.
It didn’t take long for Shane to connect the dots. Last year, Nathan “interjected” himself into an incident involving a pledge for The Gang and an eighth grader named Karen Goos. The news reported it as a simple attempted rape, shocking considering the ages of those involved. But, Shane knew better: things are seldom “simple.” Derrick became infuriated as it had nothing to do with The Gang. The boy was simply trying to prove himself a man as only an immature boy would.
It started under the bleachers at a Knox Doss basketball game. According to the Pledge, Nathan heard the muffled scream of Karen and the resulting scuffle led him, and David, right to the seven of them. Nathan had run-up and stopped, quickly surveyed the scene. He saw her red cheek as the Pledge removed his hand from her mouth, the torn t-shirt, the exposed shoulder, the already forming bruise on her arm. The Pledge pushed Karen to a companion, telling Nathan simply to walk away. Nathan clearly saw the red vest, and even grade school boys know that if you mess with one red vest you mess with all red vests. Besides, he had six. They had two.
Before David’s shout of “NO NATHAN! WAIT!” ended the first boy had fallen, wrist broken. With no recourse,David joined Nathan. According to the Pledge, they moved in perfect unison – as if they were twins. The whole thing ended in less than a minute. Four went to the hospital, one in rather serious condition (an almost crushed wind pipe), a fifth treated and released, while the Pledge ran.
Nathan and David had been hailed as heroes. Interestingly, Derrick promptly ordered no retaliations. Anonymity, Derrick confided in Shane, was always a good thing. No one had sanctioned the Pledge’s actions – in fact, no one would have – and he showed himself a coward for not standing ground to accept responsibility for his actions or his utter stupidity. Besides, Derrick added, since he actually wore his vest, if anything happened to either Nathan or David, it would complicate things.
Shane glanced over his shoulder as Robert Gibson took a seat behind him. “Late, as usual.” Shane smiled. He motioned over to Nathan and Jon. “Still nothing really impresses me Bob.”
“Gwen’s been asking about him.” Robert whispered.
“So? She’s a fine piece of ass and smart enough to keep me interested but, seriously? Never use a woman as an excuse or reason for anything.” He turned back to look at him. “Don’t get me wrong, a woman like Gwendy could put steam in a man’s stride, but women confuse things. They’ll spin you all around in circles and tie you up in knots, if you let them, but what really makes them dangerous Bob is that they cloud judgment, they distract, and they siphon.” He turned back to look at Jon and Nathan. “Not a one exists that’s worth your soul.” He grinned. “Though Gwendy sure comes close.”
“Peter.” Todd grunted.
Shane rubbed his jaw and leaned forward. Fortune had smiled on Mr. Baird. He simply proved to be at the right place at the right time. True, he hadn’t seemed particularly intimidated by Shane, but that could prove useful. Hell, he could make an adequate asset.
Robert leaned forward. “So then what do you think of his lunch meeting with the Tai-Pan?”
Shane shook his head. “I don’t frak’n know yet. It’s certainly got Mike all bothered.” He sat-up straight. “Okay, let’s say I’m curious, not frak’n impressed, but curious.”
“He’ll be problem. Mark my words. He doesn’t back down, and he’s smart.”
“Is he now?” Shane grinned. “Let’s test that, shall we?” He turned. “Don’t send him to the Quack Shack, Todd, but let’s pick a fight today.”
Matt entered the Administration offices, passing through the sensors briskly. He smiled at the head receptionist, the Queen Bee, as Matt called her, handing her something as he walked to her desk.
“Enjoy,” he whispered, having positioned his back between her and the overhead camera. “Is Ed about?”
She motioned behind her as she turned back to her desk and its heads-up display. Matt moved through the maze of occupied desks, whistling low to himself.
All new students, regardless of class, marveled at the utter complexity that was CS Hawkins, whether they took time to notice the actual details or not. Rarely, however, would a freshman volunteer for Admin duty. The time reeks of mind numbing boredom. Veteran students, upper classmen, rationalize the elective as an easy credit. Plus, if they had any inclination to pursue anything in office administration or the administrative fields, few corporations today could boast an organization as complex as Hawkins Senior High. In most states, it would rival large universities.
Charles “Chuck” Olson had become just such a rarity. This freshman relished minutia, he thrived with the mundane. He tackled every office task, no matter how small or how encompassing, with vigor: paperwork, databases, flow charts, processes, files … it all fascinated him. Such a person possessed unparalleled potentials and presented irresistible opportunities. Someone in Chuck’s position, for example, could locate all the cracks, weak spots, false paths, and dead-ends. His access to information, moreover, was blatantly obvious. Ah, Matt had advised the Tai-Pan, finding them, even recognizing them, proved one thing. Using them? That was a different beast altogether. Matt approached Chuck’s assigned desk and sat down.
“Chucky-“
“You know I hate that Matt.”
“Charles,” Matt corrected as he leaned forward. “The Tai-Pan concurs with my choice for Special Assistant. He seems ideal.”
Chuck frowned. “If ideal, why come here?”
“Because, even Mother can’t gain access to certain things without drawing attention. We need more information on the Karen Goos rape thing. You know. Knox Doss. Last year. Basketball game.”
“I remember. I was there. I went to school with Karen”
“Specifically: why the police records are sealed.”
“Figures,” Chuck sighed as he brought up his console holographic display.
Richard handpicked Charles as his personal assistant after only one interview, an unusual position for someone so young. Nevertheless, his “go to” attitude, and aptitude for administration, impressed the Tai-Pan. Chuck’s appointment marked the O’s first senior staff announcement following Matt and Jon. Matt also interviewed Chuck and, shortly thereafter, demanded direct access. Only Jon raised a questioning observation. “You have a real conundrum here Richard. Most reps won’t like it when they want to speak to the Tai-Pan, then are referred to this freshman.” Matt laughed. “This Olson will chew them up. He doesn’t take guff, even from Seniors, and, besides, he has a year’s experience in junior high administration offices. He can handle it.”
Jon, on the other hand, had come to see Chuck as a boy whose intelligence advanced his years beyond his maturity and thus his better judgment. He showed himself a pragmatist, eager-to-please, clever if not borderline ingenious. During the transition period, two weeks before classes began, Jon noted that Chuck didn’t filter well, that he also had a flare for the dramatic, and thus he tended to flame the Tai-Pan’s darker impulses Chuck, in short, enabled Richard’s tendency to make snap decisions and thus his ability to “go for the jugular.”
A week ago, in fact, the ‘O’ had become aware of a problem in the school’s delivery area. A new member of the staff, moved in from out of town, had become rather uncooperative. Jon and Matt knew these kind of things happened all the time. Richard made an off-the-cuff comment about sending a “clear message.” Normally, the Special Assistant would have taken care of such a maneuver, but given the vacuum resulting from Peter’s death, Chuck, within a day, had flagged the poor bastard’s finances with the State Revenue Offices. And now? The unions had become involved. Even Matt conceded that the response proved a bit “heavy handed.” Nevertheless, he now plays ball, and Richard had this thorn removed – all before classes started.
“Right,” Chuck said out loud, as he glanced through the holographic display. “The police investigation released the basics of the incident to the press.” He tapped a series of items, kept reading, pushed aside some pages, brought up others. “There were follow-up interviews at HDP, it seems. David Davis, the perps, and, holy cow, Derrick Phelps?”
“Red vest,” Matt pointed-out.
“Right.” Chuck frowned. “Yup, it looks like the NPD Gang Task Force arrived. Records are sealed. They’re attached to NPD. It doesn’t appear that Nathan was part of the follow-up stuff, though. He’s not part of this file, and-” Chuck furiously tapped and motioned. The screens flipped faster than Matt could follow. “Huh. Well, it’s been removed from the Doss database.”
“Really? Think Ed might know?”
“McNally?” Chuck almost blurted-out. “Are you nuts?”
“Tai-Pan really wants it all. Check that, will you? We already know David and Nathan don’t speak anymore and that David has since joined the Gang and that the Gang never retaliated. In fact, the Gang drummed-out the poor little bastard that evening. We need Nathan’s complete file.”
Chuck grinned as he made notes. “Anything else? Maybe I should crack into First Tennessee Bank? Access the local FBI database?”
“No. Really-“ Matt started.
“The Gibson Tax Records perhaps?”
Matt frowned, creasing his brow.
Chuck leaned back in his chair. “Look Matt. Jon’s already been here. I know too that Robert Gibson’s all worked up about this Baird kid. Mike’s practically had kittens. And, meeting Nathan for lunch so soon certainly didn’t help matters.”
“We need to move fast.”
“And Gwen only adds a complication the Tai-Pan does not need. It’ll be Peter all over again.” Chuck placed his hands behind his head. “I suppose you know Robert’s with Shane and Todd in Nathan’s gym class.”
“Which is why I think I need to talk to McNally.”
“Ed only guesses at his cousin’s actions numbnuts.” He sat up. “But suit yourself.”
“I will.” Matt stood-up. “Anything you can get. ASAP.”
“Right after I book all of us on the next Eagle to Alpha, I’ll get right on it.”
Matt shook his head as he turned and left.
Nathan took his position on the court assigned to him. Odd how he did not see either Todd or Shane, not to mention Robert, in the Locker Room as everyone changed into their gym attire. Yet, here we all are – just perfect.
Coach Henderson had split the four sections, treating them all as one large group. Most of the varsity football team elected to use the weight rooms, though some, along with a good portion of the real football team, decided to use the track. The rest, Coach Henderson proposed, should start off with spirited volleyball matches.
John muffled his growing laugh, adjusting his baseball cap as he came alongside Nathan. “This should prove interesting.” He said nodding at Nathan to look over at Robert and Shane.
Nathan then glanced to his right. Todd assumed a position on his team as Shane and Robert positioned themselves on the opposing side of the net. Two boys whom Nathan did not recognize talked briefly with Shane and then started clapping in unison. “Neanderthals,” a short boy with dark, large rimmed glasses muttered as he walked passed Nathan. Six teams, three courts and Shane, Todd, and Robert ended-up on Nathan’s? This will end well.
Coach Henderson tossed out the volleyballs to each of the three courts as many of the boys shook hands, some laughed and talked as everyone took the appropriate positions. Coach Henderson blew his whistle. “BEHAVE!” He shouted as he started back toward the faculty offices. How quaint, Nathan thought, hardly anyone used the vintage one’s any longer.
“So,” Jon said as he flipped his Tigers baseball cap around. “I must ask about this whole Karen Goos-Gang thing.”
“What about it?” Nathan replied as he started clapping with the rest of the team.
“The Tai-Pan just kind of blew through it, but, seriously, the idiot wore a red vest, and you just dove-in, without thinking.”
“Wrong. I thought about it … for about two seconds.”
“Ha! Either you’re blessed or lucky. Maybe you’re suicidal.”
“Why’s that?”
“You knew they would retaliate.”
“Did I?” Nathan smiled. “Let’s just say I thought about that later that night.”
Jon laughed. “I bet. So why did the police follow-up with David and not you?”
Nathan shook his head. “Oh, no. They interviewed me downtown as well. It was the first time I had seen Derrick Phelps.”
“What?” Jon started but was cut short as the first serve came over the net.
Shane had watched Jon and Nathan converse. Depending on how he handles himself, perhaps this new kid would make a good addition to The Gang. David Davis sure as hell has. Shane also couldn’t ignore the Tai-Pan’s interest in him. The library incident showed Nathan acted quickly. And, Gwendy’s reaction? A minor irritation.
Shane tapped the ball to Robert who hammered it over the net. Nathan started for it but checked himself as the ball bounced out-of-bounds, indicated clearly by the red border that lit-up as the chime sounded. Nathan jogged after the ball.
Shane tolerated Robert’s flare for the dramatic. Still, you’d think Nathan had just made parole from Shawshank State Penitentiary or something. Shane’s grandfather, Anderson Phelps, strove to cement the bonds between the Phelps and the Gibsons – and the Gibson legacy. “It’s who stands behind the name,” he would say often. “It’s not who one is but what he does that defines a person’s worth.” Nevertheless, Robert did seem to possess a kind of “sixth sense” at times. Though Todd often poked fun at it, teasing Robert about his “crazy cousins,” Shane would be foolish to dismiss it out-of-hand. Robert’s theatrics aside, this new kid might prove a problem if not handled correctly – if, for no other reason, because Richard seems to consider him Peter’s replacement.
The ball went-up again: a perfect serve. Shane shook his head to clear his musings. Whatever happens, he’d deal with it: forcefully.
Nathan hit the floor and rolled, tapping the ball to another kid. That kid passed it to Jon who slammed it for the point.
“Tell me,” Nathan said to Jon as he jumped-up. “Is Ed, um, Ed, clarinet player. McNally? I think that was is name. Anyway, is this Ed part of the Gang?”
John nodded. “Crazy Ed, eh?”
“I guess.”
“As Richard said, the McNallys, Gibsons, and Phelps are all related – cousins. One big fucked-up clan.”
“Ah,” Nathan replied. “He was real nosey during band camp. Something about all his questions just felt, I don’t know, weird.”
“Robert ,” and Jon motioned toward him with his hand, “looks upon Ed as a little brother.”
“Why ‘crazy’ Ed?”
“Sees a psychiatrist, he and his sister, Colleen, have been in and out of wards since childhood. Too bad too, she’s quite the dish. Some say they have a second sister, Colleen’s twin, but no one has ever seen her-“
The serve flew over the net.
“-don’t know her naaammmeeee,” John hissed as he lunged, returning the ball forcefully.
It came back quickly; Nathan darted forward -
WUMP! THUD!
About a year ago Nathan had maneuvered himself toward the goal during a Doss football match. He had become so focused on the ball, working his way around the fullbacks that he lost track of his actual position on the field. He made a gross misstep and slammed into the goal post itself. Not only had it knocked the wind out of him, it dropped him like a sack of potatoes and left an elongated bruise from his left shoulder down through his ribcage. He thought at first he had actually broken a couple of his ribs. Rather embarrassing.
Had he hit yet another pole? A wall perhaps? He fell to the floor and slid for a few feet. No, Todd McElroy had planted himself like a large boulder, hips locked, right in Nathan’s path.
Jon and another student rushed to Nathan, who lied on his side.
“You alright?” Jon asked as he knelt.
“On the floor again?” Nathan groaned as he rolled onto his back. “Yea.” He exhaled slowly. “Did anyone get the plate of that truck?”
“Watch where you go there hero!” Todd barked.
“Why?” Nathan responded as he sat-up. “Next time I will simply move you.”
Todd smiled and turned to face Nathan as he stood. Todd practically towered over Nathan and probably carried twice his weight. Todd took two steps toward Nathan. “Care to try now, hero?”
A crowd started to circle, and Nathan heard a patch of gasps.
“Relax cupcake,” Nathan retorted, slapping Todd lightly on the cheek, though he did have to reach up a bit. “It was a joke.”
“Funny man.”
“I try.”
Todd and Nathan stared at each other, the seconds passed …
“Okay!” John said as he moved between them. “No harm, no foul, their ball,” he spat-out as he took Nathan by the shoulders, turned him away, and started to push him back to the middle of the court.
Todd’s gaze followed Nathan. “Maybe I tell funny joke when I pin Gwen’s feet behind her ears.” He turned away.
“What did he say?” Nathan whispered as he abruptly whirled back around Jon, who simply dropped his head and started to shake it back and forth.
“HEY!” Nathan snapped. Todd stopped and turned back to face Nathan as he walked-up.
Nathan tapped Todd in the chest with his finger. “What did you say?”
This time the gasps and groans were far more pronounced.
“I said,” Todd retorted in exaggeratedly punched diction, tapping Nathan’s chest with each word. “I tell funny joke to Gwen when I pin her feet behind her ears.”
This time Nathan stared intently into Todd’s eyes. Seconds passed again. Then, slowly, Nathan began to grin, which grew to a large smile. He took a small step back. “Tell me Todd, can you even fathom the intricacies of the female anatomy?” Nathan dropped the smile. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, that means the woman’s body. Anyway, the greatest pleasure you can get from sex will come from her response to you, everything from the subtle, a caress or well-placed hot breath, then, when she’s ready, a marathon of focused thrusts. Brute Neanderthalic attacks, by themselves, designed only to get your rocks off do nothing. And, trust me, women talk.” Nathan shifted his weight, he moved his left arm across his stomach to hold his right elbow, bringing his right hand to his chin. He looked up at the ceiling. “Did you know that when a woman’s into you, and I mean really into you, that she can have orgasm after orgasm?” He glanced at Todd. “Of course you did, who am I kidding? But did you also know they can have varying orgasms, and you might want to write this down, clitoral, vaginal, blended, full-body, and psycholagnic?” He dropped his arms. “I’m sorry, should I spell that last one for you?”
John laughed out loud, though he had tried hard not to do so. Laughter then spread throughout the crowd.
SMACK!
Nathan could not remember a harder hit. Ever. He in fact saw Todd launch the left hook; Nathan even started to roll away, but he had made a rookie mistake and simply stood too close to Todd. The impact spun Nathan completely around, and he even kept spinning as he fell hard face down to the gym floor.
Ow! That’s going to leave a mark, Nathan thought. That is, if it hadn’t broken his jaw outright. Eyes closed, he didn’t move. Maybe if I just lie here … NOPE!
Todd didn’t just lift Nathan back to his feet, he vaulted him – having grabbed Nathan by both shoulders. Todd spun him around. Nathan launched a front kick directly at Todd’s crotch. It landed square in the groin, and … Todd … did … not … even … flinch. “Frak me,” Nathan sighed.
This time Nathan ducked the left hook. He swore actually heard it pass over him, and its wind moved his hair. Nathan lunged forward, striking Todd’s throat firmly with his outstretched right hand (between the thumb and pointer). This time Todd winced. Nathan switched to a bear claw and struck the throat harder again. He followed immediately with a left round house kick to the side of Todd’s knee. Todd had instinctually grabbed his throat after the second strike, as he now found it difficult to breathe, but the kick only made him step slightly.
Nathan switched his stance and struck the side of Todd’s knee with his right foot, using a side-blade kick. That made Todd move, barely, but he finally dropped to that knee. Okay, Nathan thought. This is not good. It’s like fighting a punching bag.
Nathan started to move around Todd’s right, as he had turned away from Nathan, hands still on his throat.
WHAM!
Nathan did not even see the backhand. How did I guy so large move so fast? Nathan also thought he had stepped around well out of reach. The side of Todd’s right fist struck Nathan just below the sternum. Nathan fell flat on his back, even sliding for a foot or two. Dammit! On the floor three times in one day. He also thought the punch actually lifted his feet off the ground.
Nathan took a deep breath. Ribs seemed okay.
“You talk much for little man,” Todd said as he arose, his back still to Nathan. “But you say nothing.”
Robert started to move toward them, but Shane halted him with an outstretched arm.
Nathan rolled over and pushed himself up. Todd turned to face him. Good gods, Nathan thought. He was just plain huge. Nathan braced himself, taking a small step back.
“Alright hero! Time for main event.” Todd smiled as he started toward Nathan briskly.
Whistles blew.
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT HERE!” Coach Henderson shouted.
Nathan glanced to his right and saw him running around the bleachers with two other coaches onto the court.
The crowd started to disperse as Coach Henderson stepped between Todd and Nathan. “Well?!”
Nathan dropped his arms. “Nothing, sir. Nothing at all.”
“Misunderstanding,” Todd mumbled.
Henry looked back and forth between the two of them as the other two coaches motioned for the students to go back to their own courts.
“Knock that shit off in my gym,” Coach Henderson snapped. He looked at Todd. “The vests don’t impress me boy.” He turned back to Nathan. “Twice now, Mr. Baird. This is the second time I find you in the middle of their crap. Don’t let there be a third.” He started back for his office after a short blast on his whistle. “Resume play!”
Todd simply grunted something and turned away from Nathan, winking at Shane and Robert as he walked toward the nearest bleachers. Shane grinned and motioned Robert for them to join him.
Nathan checked his jaw as Jon came-up beside him.
Jon shook his head. “Suicidal it is. You have a serious death wish, my friend.” He glanced at Shane. “Yup. I’m talking to a dead man.”
Nathan touched his cheek gingerly. “Seems so.”
They watched Robert, Todd and Shane talk amongst themselves as they sat on the bleachers. Todd suddenly laughed out loud. Jon turned to Nathan. “Nice knowing you, pal.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I had forgotten about the locker room episode recounted below until Jon reminded me after he read through the manuscript. My lapse is odd, since it represented the first time I had actually spoken to Shane Phelps. You’ll notice how his diction changes when he talks to me. It was part of the “aura” he liked to project.
EPILOGUE:
Nathan’s locker closed and the status light switched to locked as he quickly knelt down to secure his knife under his pant leg.
“You know, if you get caught with that thing …” John began walking up beside Nathan.
Nathan shook his head, smiling as he reached-up for his small doc kit.
The school’s sonic showers made cleaning-up after gym classes much more efficient and considerably less time consuming since it removed sweat, dirt, and odor in mere moments without the need for drying. Thus, it also saved on water as well as towels. And, with the sonic sinks, students could maximize their activity for the period. Still, Nathan preferred to brush his teeth the old fashioned way, so he shoved the doc kit that carried his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, portable shaver and small brush into his backpack.
Jon placed his thumb on his locker’s pad and the door slid-up. “Fancy blade though,” he observed as he pulled out his shoes and back pack and tossed in his gym attire.
“Comes in handy, when needed,” Nathan said as he stood. “I would prefer to carry a Fairbain-Sykes Fighting Knife. Unfortunately, its pommel must balance the weight of the blade, and I can’t find a composite one that’s balanced just right. So, I couldn’t get it passed the sensors.”
Jon sat on the bench and began to tie his shoes. That’s when Shane, Todd and Robert rounded the corner talking. They stopped as Shane caught sight of Jon and Nathan. Nathan looked at Jon, mouthed “shit,” then turned to face Shane.
“You know, hero,” Shane finally said after looking at Nathan silently for a few seconds. “I think you and I have gotten off on the wrong frak’n foot.” He took a step toward Nathan. “Greetings and salutations are in frak’n order. Name’s Shane. Shane Phelps.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I must confess that I’m frak’n impressed with how you handled Todd here. He can lack tact at times, and certainly sophistication is not his strong suit. Frak’n awesome how you defended poor Gwendy’s honor as you did – even though you just met her.” He motioned to Todd. “I’ve explained to him that such talk toward such a frak’n classy dame is not, shall we agree, the type of conversing that should be bantered.”
He stepped even closer to Nathan.
“Psycholagnic, huh? I frak’n loved it. It shows … erudition.” Shane took hold of Nathan’s left arm just above the elbow. “I don’t have the frak’n privilege of meeting many, who don’t fall all intimidated and such by our vests.”
Nathan looked down at Shane’s hand on his arm. Slowly, he looked back at Shane. “Should we shake hands or something? Relieve this atmosphere we have created?”
Shane loosened his grip and offered his hand to Nathan. Slowly, Nathan took it. Shane added his other hand on top of their grip.
“How frak’n stupid do you think I am Mr. Baird?”
“I don’t know. I just met you.”
Shane smiled as he let loose of Nathan’s hand. “Well, I know a little bit about you now. And I’ve learned other things since I took over the Cowboys, and much prefer that name, by the way, over the bland and nondescript ‘Gang’, Nathaniel.” He laughed and hit Nathan’s arm with a friendly smack. “In life, you see, you have to do a lot of things you don’t frak’n want to do. Many times that’s all frak’n life is: one frak’n vile task after another.”
“True,” Nathan responded. “Like now, maybe?” He glanced over Shane’s shoulder at Todd and Robert. “And, while I’m all appreciative and what-not with your attention today, I hazard something else is afoot here.”
“Frak’n astute, Mr. Baird.”
“Ok, so I take it you learned something other than how impressive I be?”
“Confident. Straight to the frak’n point, I like that too. Alright, you come to Hawkins, through no frak’n fault of your own, I grant that, but you show-up in one of our exercises this morning, converse with Gwendy, after saving her, well played by-the-way, and by lunch you have the ‘O’ all over you like a cheap whore with braded pussy. And now you’ve gone and picked a fight with Todd here.” He smiled. “I have to concede it’s a frak’n impressive path you’ve blazed.”
“Not by choice.” Nathan retorted, shaking his head. “For what it’s worth, I say this all was, especially with Gwendolyne and Todd being involved and all … that it was … umm … a turn of events.”
“A what?”
“It was a turn … of events.”
Shane smiled. “Ah, a ‘turn of events’? Well, that’s a frak-you very much. The gods might call it the Fates. Me? A coincidence? But I don’t believe in coincidence. You’re a smart fella Mr. Baird. So, I have to ask myself what, with this frak’n coincidence and turn of events staring me in the frak’n face, what should I do now? I’ve two dozen other frak’n things that need my attention, so you present a real conundrum here. I need either to frak’n end it,” he snapped his fingers, “or bring you into the fold.”
“Into the fold?”
“Yes, into the frak’n fold. Make you a frak’n offer.”
“That I couldn’t refuse, eh? Flattering. Still, I have to question the apparent magnanimity of this offer.”
“And that would be?”
“I’ve seen your kind before, Shane. You butt into other’s business. You make their business your own. You use that business to your advantage and try to control everything and everyone. I don’t think you find any of that vile at all. I think you find it … empowering.”
Shane nodded. “Among other things, but a smart guy like you should be asking ‘why’. Think about it. Think hard. Obviously I, we, get something out of it. I have to go now, so we part ways … for now … but, before I go, can you tell me, do you know the sound of thunder?
“Umm, sure?” Nathan said hesitantly. “Why?”
“Can you imagine that sound?”
Nathan nodded.
“Good. Listen to Jon here. Listen to Matt and the Tai-Pan. But you understand, they don’t just butt into everybody’s frak’n business, they create business. They frak’n craft business. They plan. They manipulate. They frak’n scheme. Me? I don’t plan, and I don’t like schemers. I frak’n hate schemers. If I see a scheme, I want to turn it sideways. I want to upset the established order. I invite Chaos. He’s a frak’n neglected god. Me? I’m a priest of Chaos, because Chaos is always fair.”
Shane motioned to Todd and Robert, and they walked past the three of them. Todd looked intently at Nathan, smiling while tapping his cheek.
“See, Nathaniel,” Shane added. “Todd didn’t speak with frak’n thunder.” He motioned to Todd and Robert, “WE have a family.” He motioned to Jon. “THEY have a bureaucracy. WE frak’n care for each other. THEY but need each other. WE embrace our roles proudly. THEY work in shadows.” He gripped Nathan’s arm once more. “And they think they need you. But, when they don’t, they’ll cast you out, like a leper. Their rules, their codes, their traditions, their plans, their schemes will crush you.” He slapped Nathan on the back. “Listen to the frak’n thunder, Nathan. I don’t need you, but I still want you. Once a Cowboy, always a Cowboy.”
Nathan forced a slight laugh. “Are you proposing or something? You could at least buy me flowers, or should I expect the same treatment y’all gave the idiot who attacked Karen?”
Shane returned the laugh as he walked away. “You’re many frak’n things, Mr. Baird, but idiot does not pop to my mind.”
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