Our Perfect Moment

By Perry Stanton

Susan and Thomas have long admired each other from a distance, and when they finally meet at the beginning of the 1978 school year, the sparks of intense mutual attraction quickly ignite a passionate romance. While they enjoy their senior year at Brainerd High, planning for homecoming and weighing their college options, Kent, a violent and disturbed bully from Susan’s secret past, stalks them, bent on revenge for what he sees as his destroyed life.

When an unexpected pregnancy threatens to derail their plans and the expectations of their families, Susan and Thomas face their difficult choice together in the face of ultimatums from family and their own ideals, while recognizing the harsh reality of recession, massive layoffs, and high unemployment in their dying small town. Harsher still are Kent’s increasingly violent and irrational attacks against them as an inner voice leads him on a path of destruction.

Inspired by his uncle’s entrepreneurial success and determined to be together, Susan follows Thomas’s lead as he plans their future. Together they embark on a daring venture, realizing they have to create their own perfect moment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781633389137

Book preview

Chapter 1

Susan smiled as she checked her makeup and cheerleading uniform in the locker room mirror and then pulled her long blond hair back into a ponytail to be consistent with the team uniform. Everyone told her she was beautiful, and she knew it was true. She didn’t feel conceited about it; she simply felt fortunate to look like her mother and grandmother in their younger days. Susan wasn’t sure if being elected homecoming queen was just a beauty or popularity contest, but if it were, she’d win next week. If she had her detractors, they remained silent, at least to her face.

Allison stood beside her at the mirror, primping. So, do you think you’ll win next week? she asked.

Susan smiled and replied drolly, It would be an honor to serve.

Who do you think the king will be? Allison queried.

Hopefully anyone but that jerk Kent Schmidt! Susan replied.

Surprised, Allison exclaimed, But Kent is so cute! I wouldn’t mind taking the first dance with him. He’s the captain of the football team, and he has a great car. A girl could do a lot worse!

Susan retorted, I prefer a boy who isn’t as dumb as a fencepost and who isn’t so full of himself. I can do a lot better!

Mrs. Walton called to the girls in the locker room and said it was time to take to the field and shine. She had been a cheerleader in her younger days and tried to retain her status as the cheerleading coach. She even wore matching makeup and a plus-sized cheerleading uniform to complete the illusion. It was a tough sell.

Time to follow Old Thunder Thighs to our appointed duties, Allison quipped, following Mrs. Walton out the door. She put her hands far out to the sides of her hips and waddled behind her, mocking her. Turning to Susan, she asked, Do my huge ass and flabby, puckered thighs make this uniform look sexy?

Just give her a break, Susan replied, shaking her head. And Sue wondered just what Allison said about her behind her back. Mrs. Walton was a positive and cheerful lady, and she didn’t deserve to be mocked. She and Allison were friends on the team, but she had heard Allison say such awful things about nearly everyone else at one time or another.

The loudspeakers blared as the starting lineup was announced. Starting at quarterback for the Warriors, Team Captain Kent Schmidt!

Kent jogged into place, somehow managing to swagger while doing so as he waved to the crowd. As other starting players were announced, Kent greeted them as though they were subjects coming to pay homage to royalty. After all, he expected to be homecoming king.

And at running back, Thomas O’Regan!

Thomas ran to his team as the crowd cheered. He slapped hands as he went down the line, and approaching Kent at the end, he stopped and shook his hand, saying, Good luck tonight! The scouts are here, and we’ve all got to stand out.

I don’t need luck, Kent said with false confidence.

Susan turned to Allison and said she wouldn’t mind the first dance with Thomas.

Allison replied, Neither would I!

Thomas needed a scholarship to attend college, and this could be the night he secured one. He didn’t care particularly where, as long as it made it possible. Of course Kent didn’t need luck; his father owned the General Motors car dealership and could pay for any college his dimwit son could get into. Thomas was not so fortunate. His Marine Corps father had died in Vietnam, leaving him and his housewife mother with nothing. Thomas wanted out of a dead-end life in a dead-end town, and he would do whatever it took to get out of Brainerd and out into the world to make it.

The home team announcements continued with the defensive lineup. Thomas and the team cheered them all as their names and numbers were called, and then James Anderson was announced as starting linebacker. Thomas jumped up and down as his good friend charged toward his team and was greeted by all the players. He threw his arms around Jim as he approached him and lifted him off the ground. This is our night! they chanted together. They both knew the scouts were watching, and they both needed scholarships badly.

And now the starting lineup for the Crosby Ironton Rangers! The crowd began to jeer. Tom and Jim raised their fingers to their lips to silence the crowd and then applauded their opponents. Susan saw Tom and led the cheerleaders as they turned their silence into polite applause. The crowd followed suit, and the Rangers took to the field.

We ought to win this one for sure. Crosby is such a small town, Jim opined.

Tom replied, Yeah, but they’re poor, tough kids with nothing to lose. Our record against them isn’t all that good, and they know scouts are here too.

Kent and the Rangers captain went to center field for the coin toss. The Rangers won and elected to receive. C’mon, Jim! Show ’em what you’ve got! Tom yelled at Jim, shaking him vigorously.

Hell yeah! Whoooooo! Jim replied with a spirited Warriors war whoop.

Pound them! Drive them back! Tom encouraged.

Yeah, just like I drive you back in scrimmage! Jim joked. They played hard against each other in practice, tough and physical. They were both aggressive in competition but always in good sportsmanship.

Crosby had no passing game, but they were very tough on the ground. Jim spied on the running back and hammered him at the line of scrimmage, forcing a three and out, followed by a punt. Tom cheered Jim with all his enthusiasm and prepared to take to the field. He hoped the scouts had noticed Jim’s aggressive, heads-up play. Brainerd didn’t have much of a passing game either, but Kent liked to try. A quarterback wants to do more than hand off the ball, and Kent wanted to be a hero. But he wasn’t that good, and the receivers had a tough time getting a handle on his off-target, wobbly throws. He was starting quarterback because his dad owned the dealership and funded the booster club almost singlehandedly. At least that was the talk around the team.

Tom blocked as Kent attempted pass after pass unsuccessfully. Tom said, We’ve got to keep them honest, Kent. We’ve got to run the ball!

Kent protested, I’m captain, I’m quarterback, and I’ll make the calls! And the coach will back me, not you!

We’ve had three possessions, and gone three and out each time. We haven’t moved the chains at all! Tom replied as they took to the sidelines while the punting team took to the field. The coach listened to them arguing. He needed Kent’s father’s approval, but he also needed wins to keep his job.

Susan and her squad did their best to keep up spirits, but Crosby was moving the ball and scoring. She had no idea how they scored; she didn’t even watch the game as she led the cheers. She just knew the Warriors were losing. Jim was doing very well, and his number was called on most plays for making the tackle. At least we look good out here! Allison chimed sarcastically. And Kent sure looks cute! she added.

Susan looked up at the scoreboard and said, Zero–fourteen, bad guys winning. I’m sure Kent looks great doing nothing.

The half-time locker room was dismal. Getting shut out by Crosby was humiliating. Coach Nelson gave a trite pep talk and said all the platitudes.

Sticking his neck out, Jim said, Coach, with all due respect, can I say something?

Coach Nelson looked awkwardly surprised and then agreed. We’re mostly holding Crosby off because we know almost every play is going to be a running play, and they’re still pounding it up the gut. We’re getting nowhere! We’re passing, and they’re shutting us down. We’ve got to mix it up. Their defense is always ready for pass coverage, leaving the line weak. We should take advantage of what they give us. I think we should run the ball. We’re getting nowhere!

Thank you, Coach! Kent retorted mockingly to Jim. Pointing at coach Nelson, he continued, He’s the coach, I’m the captain, and you’re just another nothing player!

Okay, hold on! Coach Nelson interjected. This is no democracy. I call the plays. If I call pass, we pass. If I call run, we run. We’re going to go out there and mix it up! We’re going to show them a team out there, not a collection of egos! Anyone with a problem can take the bench and think about it! There is no ‘I’ in ‘TEAM’!

Kent rolled his eyes and muttered, Oh god, what’s next? You gotta play sixty minutes of football? You gotta take care of both sides of the ball? You gotta give it 110–115 percent?

Coach Nelson shot daggers at Kent with his eyes. He shook his head as he decided what to do. Drawing a deep breath, he said, Kent, you’re going to give it 110–115 percent sitting on the bench. Eckhardt! For the second half you’ll take the snap and hand it off! Our first play in the second half will be the old Statue of Liberty play!

Kent howled with laughter. Is this peewee league? Are we playing an elementary school! Jeez!

Just keep it up, mister, Coach warned flatly. Mr. Nelson was an English teacher who supplemented his income by coaching football. He needed the support of the boosters and others to keep his second job. He wondered how effective Kent’s complaints to his father would be.

Chapter 2

Shivering, Susan got out from under her blanket as the teams emerged from their locker rooms. She had to get the girls to keep the faith and cheer their team no matter what. If nothing else, Susan needed to be seen doing her job, and the team would just have to do theirs. Image is everything, her mom told her. The cheerleaders remained plucky and upbeat. The game was only half over.

The Warriors will receive to start the second half, the announcer said with optimism. Let’s see what they’ve got up their sleeves to breathe some life into this offense! The crowd roared their support. It was a small town, and the bleachers were full. What else was there to do on a Friday night in Brainerd?

Tom asked Kurt Eckhardt if he knew the Statue of Liberty play. Yeah, I played peewee league! he snorted.

Then let’s do it! Tom replied, filled with energy. Finally, he would have a chance to make a play, that is if the scouts were still in the stands to see it.

After the kickoff, Kurt led the team to the field. In as quarterback, Kurt Eckhardt! the announcer reported. The crowd politely applauded and murmured. Kurt had not taken a snap in a game yet this year. Everyone knew that was Kent’s job, but no one but Kent’s parents seemed disappointed with the substitution. Seated front row at midfield behind the bench, Kent’s father screamed, What the hell is this! Is my son hurt?

No, he’s not injured. Only his pride is hurt. We all just need to make an adjustment, Coach Nelson replied calmly over his shoulder.

Wally Schmidt fumed and took to his seat with his arms crossed on his chest as he tried to figure out exactly what revenge to take. I’ll get him! he said to his silent wife, Marta.

The play was classic. Kurt sent four receivers wide, with Tom as lone setback. Will they never learn? the Rangers linebacker laughed. Let’s sack him! Drive him back to the goal line! He pointed at Kurt threateningly and said, Your ass is mine!

Kurt took the snap and appeared to look downfield as the defense faded into coverage. Tom was in motion, and as Kurt drew back to throw, he snatched the ball from Kurt’s grasp and ran nearly unopposed downfield as the receivers became blockers for him. The Rangers defense was caught off guard by the play, and Tom made it to the four-yard line before being tripped up from behind. The crowd roared their approval.

The oldest trick in the book! The old Statue of Liberty play! the announcer exclaimed. Eckhardt to O’Regan! O’Regan brought down on the Rangers’ four-yard line by Roberts! This ought to breathe new life into the Warriors’ offense!

And it did. Tom took the handoff and ran it in for a touchdown. The crowd cheered, and Susan cheered the most. I really wouldn’t mind having that first homecoming dance with him, she said to Allison, smiling. Then she realized she was repeating herself, but she wanted it to be clear since Allison was also interested. Then again, Allison was interested in just about any boy, even that jerk Kent. If only she knew about him, Susan thought to herself.

The game continued with Tom running the ball for the Warriors and Jim holding off the Rangers offense, forcing punts with some excellent heads-up play. Tom toted the rock for his team and scored another touchdown. Coming off the field to the cheers of his teammates, Coach Nelson asked him how he felt. Good! I can taste the blood. Tom meant it literally. He had taken quite a pounding from the Rangers defense, and he tasted the blood in his mouth. He looked over at Susan and tasted blood differently. He wanted her, but could she possibly want him, he wondered? She was the most beautiful and most popular girl in school. Then he got back to the game that could decide his scholarship destiny. Focus, he thought. But it wasn’t easy to focus seeing Susan cheering and smiling at him. Focus. He wanted the scouts to notice him, but he also wanted Susan to notice.

The Rangers drove most of the length of the field on their next possession and were in scoring range. Jim had to stand out. He needed a scholarship, and he would do anything to be noticed. He stayed back and watched the plays develop and pounded their runners at the line.

The announcer said, Fourth and six for the Rangers. James Anderson with the stop. This young man is having an excellent night! The Rangers were held to a field goal, but they were up by three.

Tom continued to take most of the handoffs for running plays and caught a few screen passes from Kurt. The Warriors were now nearly as one dimensional as the Rangers, but it was working. They had virtually no passing game with Kent, and it was the same with their backup quarterback. Running the ball was the only way they could win. They had to score on their next possession with less than four minutes on the clock and virtually nothing but running plays from either team.

The Rangers coach told their team they had to stop O’Regan. Tom was piling up yardage against them. Stop him! He’s making you look weak! The defensive players began chanting, Take him out! Take him out!

On the final possession, Tom ran the ball inside the Rangers ten-yard line. They were poised to score and win the game. Tom tasted blood in his mouth more and more; he had taken the Rangers’ best shots as they took him down. He didn’t care; it was what a running back does. First and goal for the Warriors! the announcer cheered. The Rangers defense huddled, with their captain leading a stage whisper chant of Take him out! Take him out!

Tom took the handoff and charged the line, looking for a hole or to create one by brute force. He had four attempts to pick up eight yards to score, and he would not be denied. At least they could attempt a field goal to put it into overtime if he didn’t make it. He was confident of victory, until he was gang tackled at the line of scrimmage. He was hit high and low, then the big guys of the defensive line piled on, crushing him. Tom couldn’t breathe. Just about everybody on the stop, the announcer said. Flag on the play. Unnecessary roughness. Half the distance to the goal. After a long pause, he continued, O’Regan slow to get up. Injury time out on the field.

Susan heard this and turned to see Tom lying on the field. Jim ran out to him, helping him to his feet. You okay, man? Jim asked, concerned. They really lit you up then piled on!

Can’t breathe! Tom gasped. Jim and some others helped him to the sidelines.

Coach Nelson looked at Tom and asked if he was okay. Can’t breathe, Tom choked.

Peterson! Nelson yelled, startling the backup running back on the bench. You’re in for O’Regan!

Craig Peterson got up and reported to the coach, looking scared, stammering at first, I’ve never been in a game before. Shaking it off, he continued, I’m ready! He didn’t look ready.

You’ll do great, Tom gasped.

Craig took the handoff. He only had to pick up four yards for the touchdown to win, but the Rangers defense was tough. He lost a yard, tackled behind the line of scrimmage. On third down, he met with the same result. The Warriors needed the win. Coach Nelson took a timeout. If they tried to kick, they could tie it up. Or the kicker could choke. Can you breathe yet? Nelson asked. Tom wanted to say yes. He wanted it so bad he could taste it more than the blood in his mouth, but he said weakly, pointing to Jim, Maybe a little, but he can.

Jim Anderson was a good athlete and an extremely tough linebacker. Coach Nelson looked at him and said, You up for this? You want to go in as running back?

Jim looked at Tom, who nodded then replied, Hell yeah! Tom rose to his feet and embraced Jim, saying, Go do it!

Linebacker Anderson in on offense! the loudspeaker blared. The crowd sounded surprised.

Susan turned and asked Allison, What does that mean?

Beats me. Why wouldn’t he be? Allison answered.

Susan said, I wish I understood football. At least right now!

College scouts in the stands began to confer. Let’s see what this kid can do on offense. He’s a great defensive player.

Fourth and six, and the Warriors appear to be going for it! the color commentator cheered. Reaction from the crowd was mixed. This play would determine either victory or defeat, with only six seconds left on the play clock. The ball was snapped; Jim took the handoff and charged the line ferociously. He was stopped, and again the Rangers piled on. The game clock ran out. The crowd sounded disappointed at the loss.

Take that, loser! said the defensive lineman standing triumphantly on Jim’s chest.

Then the announcement: Flags on the play. Unnecessary roughness and unsportsmanlike conduct. Half the distance. The crowd cheered.

What does this mean? Susan asked. She looked out at the field as Jim slowly got up after the dog pile of players got off him. I guess the game’s not over? Allison replied, confused.

Jim jogged slowly off the field as the crowd applauded, relieved that he could leave the field under his own power. But he was shaken up on the play. A game can’t end on a defensive penalty, so they had one more play to attempt. The clock was stopped, and he approached Tom, a bit wobbly, and asked if he could play yet. This was his big chance.

Tom looked to Nelson. Coach, decide. Coach Nelson didn’t know what to do. He could put either one back into play or attempt a field goal to tie the game. But then he wouldn’t have a running game in overtime, and the Rangers still did. You two decide who goes in, Nelson said, punting on his decision.

The scouts leaned over the rail toward the home bench, and one said, Who is going to be the hero?

Tom looked at them, pointing at Jim, and said breathlessly, He’s your hero!

Patting Tom’s back, Jim said no, he was just letting Tom catch his breath after a vicious foul. He’s your hero!

Well, whoever it’s going to be, you’d better do it right now! The play clock was about to start running, and a decision had to be made. Jim looked Tom in the eye and asked, Can you play? Just one more down. C’mon, man, you got us here!

Tom rose from the bench and took to the field. He jogged out slowly to preserve his breath and took his position in I formation. Just one more play. Just pound it in, and then I can breathe all night, Tom thought to himself.

Both Tom and Jim were tough competitors, and they hated to see poor sportsmanship. The Rangers defense had committed vicious fouls against both of them, and Tom’s blood boiled. Before the snap, he looked at the defensive line, pointed, and yelled, You’re going down! The defense jumped offsides.

Flag on the play. Half the distance, Jim said in sync with the announcer. Eighteen inches left to win the game.

Tom took the handoff and plowed through the line, dragging defensive players all the way to the back of the end zone. The crowd went wild. Touchdown! Warriors win! exclaimed the announcer. Jim got to his feet and cheered as loudly as he could, That’s Tom O’Regan! That’s my friend! Turning to the scouts, Jim yelled, There’s your hero!

The scouts looked at one another, smiling. One said, Kid, you’re both heroes today.

Kent did not even cheer his own team’s victory. He should be the hero! He kicked over the Gatorade bucket and stomped away in disgust. The coach and scouts just shook their heads. Jim made his best speed onto the field and embraced Tom, jumping up and down with him. Score! they cheered.

Susan watched it all. She didn’t understand football; she didn’t know what to think. All she saw was a bunch of guys standing there or crouching one second and falling down the next. But she knew Tom O’Regan interested her and that Kent was a total jerk whom she had reason to hate. She knew both Tom and Jim were heroes, because that was what everyone was saying. She wondered why, but she didn’t really care. So she smiled and shook her pompoms with great enthusiasm. Tom seemed to be okay, and she was happy about that.

Chapter 3

The postgame locker room was celebratory, but not unusually so after a win. Tom and Jim congratulated each other, and Tom told Jim he ought to win a scholarship for his performance in the game. Coach Nelson screamed, pumping his fist, Victory! Victory! Victory!

Three strange men entered the locker room, the three scouts from small midwestern colleges. Big Ten scouts don’t bother with small towns like Brainerd unless they hear of some truly outstanding teams and players, and this was not an outstanding team. They approached the coach and asked to speak with Thomas O’Regan and James Anderson. Sure, in my office. O’Regan, Anderson! In my office, now! he yelled.

Boys, these men are scouts, and they’d like to talk with you. Then it occurred to Coach Nelson that was the extent of his knowledge on the topic. He didn’t even know their names or how this worked. The scouts took out their cards, handing one to each of the boys and their coach. You impressed us tonight. With your parents’ permission, we’ll be stopping by your homes to tell you what we have to offer.

One of them or both of them? Coach Nelson asked. There was an awkward moment of silence.

The tallest of the three scouts replied, Anderson almost singlehandedly stopped the Rangers rushing game, and O’Regan rushed for over 190 yards and three touchdowns in the second half alone. These guys are outstanding!

Tom nodded and grinned, then said, But remember, we both had ten other guys out there with us. We weren’t playing alone.

That’s right, Jim added.

The tall scout replied, Don’t sell yourselves short. The answer to your coach’s question is you will both get scholarship offers, and it’s up to you to decide which offer is the best fit for each of you. And I’ll bet you both have some girls who’d like to see you now, so we’ll be on our way. Suddenly the tall man looked even taller and much more pleasant.

I hope so! Tom said, smiling.

Jim looked to Tom. Dude!

Yes! Tom replied, smiling.

Your parents will be hearing from us soon. Don’t forget our cards, the tall man said as the scouts left.

Susan and the girls went back to their locker room. I guess it was a good game. A win over CI! Allison said.

Right, a win. I guess our job here is done. They get all the glory, Susan said wistfully.

Sue, you get your share of glory, and you know it!

I guess, Susan said with a smile. Okay, Allison, let’s go to the game party and get glorified!

Allison scoffed. You mean laid!

Susan retorted, Not so fast! They have to earn that, and no one has earned it yet.

Why be ‘celibate Sue,’ when you can be ‘run around Sue?’ You have to get it while the goods are good! Allison exclaimed.

As they entered the showers, Susan checked herself out in the mirror as they passed by it. Yep. These goods are very, very good! Too good to pass around. I’ll wait for my knight, Susan said playfully.

Right now your knight is out of his armor, naked in the showers with a bunch of naked studs! Charge!

Susan laughed at Allison’s comments, and she knew she meant them.

Later, people began to show up at Mrs. Walton’s lake home. Old Thunder Thighs had married a lawyer after high school and had two kids before letting herself go, and they loved to show off their beautiful home on Gull Lake. Ed Walton later became district attorney. Coach Nelson would co-chaperone the party, hoping to keep the kids out of trouble and not let them get too secretly drunk and drive home. The homecoming party would be the big event, first at school and later around the kegs in basements and cornfields. But tonight was just another game party.

Kent showed up a bit late, and he had obviously been drinking; this was not a victory celebration for him. He felt humiliated being taken out of the game by Coach Nelson. Kent approached the coach and drunkenly yelled, Who the fuck do you think you are? I’m the quarterback, and my dad is going to get you fired!

Everyone heard Kent, and the room went quiet as everyone turned to watch. Coach Nelson was rattled, fearing the loss of his coaching job. Nelson replied, Kent, you’re my starter, and you played the first half. But we needed to change things up. It’s not the end of the world.

It’s the end of your world, asshole! You’re through! Get the fuck out of here! No one wants you here, English Teacher! Just get the fuck out! Kent railed.

Everyone just watched this train wreck happen. Mary Walton looked to her husband, Ed, for help. Ed walked over to Kent and said, You need to watch your language and show some respect, young man! It’s time for you to leave. But you’ve obviously been drinking, so I’ll call your parents to come and pick you up. I’ll wait outside with you. Mary, please call Kent’s parents. The coach has all the phone numbers.

Get out of my fucking face, you fucking asshole! I’ll leave when I’m damn good and ready! Kent lashed back, shoving him.

How old are you, kid? Ed Walton asked.

I turned eighteen a couple of weeks ago! What the fuck is it to you?

Ed Walton was a big man, and he took Kent by the scruff of his neck and forced him out the door. What it is to me is that I don’t lay my hands on children. You’re supposed to be an adult now, and you show up drunk, obnoxious, and profane in our home, and you act like you own the place! It’s time to grow up, punk! Kent tripped crossing the doorway threshold and fell to the ground. Everyone came outside to watch, and Kent was more humiliated than ever as his teammates and the cheerleaders laughed at him lying on the ground. Ed Walton had laid down the law and put him in his place, and Kent didn’t look so tough lying on his back.

Fuck you! Kent screamed. Fuck you all! Kent got up and staggered as quickly as he could to his car, a new 1976 Trans Am he got for his sixteenth birthday from his father’s dealership. He peeled out in reverse, knocking down the Walton’s mailbox and sped away.

Mary, change of plans. Call the sheriff’s office instead. Kent’s parents can pick him up at the police station. He’s driving drunk, and he’s got to be stopped. Tell them he’s driving a late-model red Trans Am from our house here on Gull Lake heading to Highway 371 on his way back to Brainerd. Hopefully, they can stop him before it’s too late. Ed Walton stood outside, shaking his head as Kent sped away.

Do you have to do that, Mr. Walton? Allison asked. I don’t want Kent to get into trouble.

Ed replied, I’m an officer of the court, and I know of a drunken kid speeding away boiling with rage. I have to do what I can to see no one gets hurt. I have no choice. Kent will get what he’s got coming, if he doesn’t kill himself or someone else first. Now let’s get back inside. It’s cold out here.

Everyone went back inside, abuzz with what had transpired. Mary Walton was already on the phone with the sheriff’s office, and Ed took the phone from her to fill in the details. Well, we can just hope everything turns out okay. Coach Nelson sighed.

Allison turned to Susan and said, I guess Kent won’t be our homecoming king after that performance.

Thank God! What a jerk! Susan replied.

Allison looked at Jim and mused, Hmm. Who do you suppose will be your king, Sue? Allison decided at that moment to set her sights on Jim, since Kent no longer had the same status. Jim was handsome and popular, and she could do worse. She knew he had quite a reputation with the girls, and neither of them was a stranger to action. I’m not waiting for anything anymore. Allison finished with a giggle, and with that she approached Jim and went into full flirtation mode. As cover, she told Jim that Susan wanted Tom to be her first homecoming dance partner, if she were queen. Allison didn’t want competition from Susan if she had any interest in Jim; Susan could have anyone she wanted. And Susan had expressed interest in Tom, so she rationalized that she was killing two birds with one stone.

After a while Jim went to the punch bowl for a refill and met Tom there. How are you doing, Tom? Jim asked.

I just got the wind knocked out of me. I’m fine now, Tom replied, eating pizza. Then he added, I’m ready for action!

Jim looked at Susan and said to Tom, There’s your action right there. Allison told me she said she wants to dance with you at homecoming.

Tom was surprised and asked, No way! Really? You’re not just screwing with me? Sue Henderson is the most beautiful and popular girl in school. I don’t want to feel like a fool when I ask her out and she says no.

Jim answered, Way, Dude! Allison just told me. They were talking during the game, and that’s what she said a couple of times. Seize the moment, Tom!

Uncertain, Tom said, I don’t know, Jim. I’ve never really even talked with Sue. I guess I thought she’s out of my league.

Jim chastised, Don’t punt on first down, man! You ask a girl out three times before you know she doesn’t want you. I think it’s like a rule or something. You’ve got nothing to lose!

Tom took a deep breath and said, Then here goes nothing! He set his sights on Sue and headed across the room.

Sue was surrounded by numerous boys and girls, so Tom got close to pick up on the conversation. Of course, everyone was talking about Kent’s terrible behavior at the party. Sue looked at Tom, who had so far been silent, and asked him if he thought Kent would be kicked off the team.

I don’t know. That’s up to Coach Nelson, Tom replied.

Allison seemed to take great pleasure in saying, After all that, there’s no way he’ll be starting quarterback or homecoming king. I don’t know how he can show his face around school anymore. What a loser!

Others agreed, especially Susan, who had her own reasons for despising Kent.

Tom shook his head and said, I got piled on tonight by the opposing team. I’m not going to pile on my teammate. If the sheriff picks him up before he makes it home, he’ll have enough to deal with from the law, his dad, and the coach. Kent doesn’t need a lynch mob. He had a bad night, and nobody has to make it worse. It’s not up to me or any of us.

Allison laughed and started singing to the tune of Fun, Fun, Fun by the Beach Boys. And he’ll have fun, fun, fun till his daddy takes the Trans Am away! Everyone laughed. Allison lived for this kind of thing. Kicking others when they were down was great sport for her.

Tom started to walk away, and Sue joined him. It was nice of you not to pile on. I can’t stand Kent, but you’re right. He’s in enough trouble. I hope no one gets hurt. She didn’t mean it. She hated Kent and thought nothing bad enough could happen to him.

Tom probed Susan, saying, I thought you two had something going on between you. I had heard you were dating him.

No! Susan replied. We had one date, but he was pushy and he thought I was his to do with as he pleased. I’m not! What a creep! Just because he got a new Trans Am the day he got his license doesn’t make him hot stuff. I don’t date cars or stereos or anyone because his dad has money. I want a man for who he is on his own. For what he’s willing to work for and earn, not just take. Sue’s eyes twinkled as she looked into Tom’s.

Encouraged, Tom said, I feel the same way, but it sure would be nice to have a leg up on the world! I mean, all the boys want you because you’re beautiful and popular, not just because your dad is rich. I’ve got nothing. I drive a rusty old pickup truck, and my best chance to go to college is getting a scholarship.

Sue looked into Tom’s eyes, asking, I heard there were some college football scouts at the game tonight. You played great. I kept hearing your name called during the game, and you scored three times. And I would think a smart kid like you would get academic scholarships. It was all true, but Susan didn’t think it hurt to let Tom know she knew enough about him to know he was an excellent student as well as a good athlete.

Tom nodded modestly and said, After the game there were some college scouts in the locker room, and they asked the coach if they could talk to me and Jim. Apparently, we’ll both get offers. I don’t know any more than that. They said they would talk to our parents with us, and I just have to wait and see what happens. As far as academic scholarships go, I have applied for some, and my guidance counselor thinks I have a good chance.

Sue smiled at the news and said, See! You can’t keep a good man down. I knew you were smart, and everyone knows you can play football. Something good will happen.

I didn’t think you even knew I existed, Sue, Tom said with a mixture of shyness and embarrassment. Then he realized he was staring at his feet. Um. Would you like to go to the homecoming dance with me?

Yes! Sue replied with enthusiasm.

Really? I mean, okay! Let’s do it! Tom grinned from ear to ear. He was having a great day!

Kent sped down Highway 371 toward Brainerd, taking shots of vodka straight from the bottle at his side. Then he saw the flashing lights and heard the siren behind him. Oh, fuck! he exclaimed in exasperation. He’d already had a few tickets for speeding and unreasonable acceleration, and he knew he was drunk. He rolled down the passenger side window and tried to throw the bottle out the window, but in his panicked state, it missed and spilled all over the seat and floor of his car. The cops were still quite a ways behind him; maybe they were after someone else. Kent slammed on the brakes and turned down a side road and then saw a dirt road to his left. He pulled into the dirt road and turned off the lights, setting the parking brake to come to a stop so the brake lights wouldn’t light up. Kent took the keys, ducked down, and tried to hide. If they were after him, his car would just look parked and empty.

Trooper McFarley was not so easy to lose. He had the vehicle description, and he saw where Kent had turned off the road. There were no taillights ahead on the straight road, so he used his searchlight and looked down the dirt road. There was the red Trans Am. He radioed his position and called for backup as he pulled up behind the car, and Kent got out and ran into the dark woods. Over the loudspeaker, the trooper said, This is the state highway patrol. Stop and return to your vehicle!

Kent stumbled through the darkness and hid behind a tree. McFarley got out of his car and left the lights on. He approached the Trans Am and looked into the car. No one was inside, and the keys were missing. Using his flashlight, he looked in the brushy area Kent had run into. He searched for a while, but it was too hard to see anything through the brush. Kent could see a little with the lights from the patrol cruiser, and he slowly worked himself back toward his car. He got in, started the car, and tried to back up around the trooper’s cruiser, hitting it and sliding down into the muddy ditch. He gunned the engine, but he was stuck in the mud.

McFarley heard Kent’s attempts to escape and quickly ran back to the cars. Stop! Remain in your vehicle with your hands up! he commanded. Kent panicked and tried to open the driver’s door, but the car was tilted sharply down into the ditch, and the door opened only a crack before it hit the ground. He was trapped. Shit! God dammit! Kent exclaimed.

Hold it right there, Trooper McFarley ordered, pointing his gun at Kent.

Kent slumped in his seat, leaning against the door. It was over.

Chapter 4

Wally Schmidt entered the police station and demanded to see his son. The night officer replied, He’s in holding, awaiting a bail hearing. The judge will set bail tomorrow.

I demand to see my son now! Wally yelled.

Nonplussed, the night officer replied, I’ll see what I can do. He’s been booked and charged with drunken driving, speeding, destruction of property, and flight to resist arrest.

What! Oh my god, what has he gotten himself into this time? Wally asked rhetorically.

Kent looked up from the cot in his cell to see his father glowering at him through the bars. What have you gotten yourself into this time? What are you doing? he asked.

I guess I screwed up, Dad, Kent said sadly. He was scared; he’d never been in any real trouble before, just a few minor scrapes as a juvenile.

You guess! Well, now you’ve gone and done it! You’re in trouble with me and with the law!

Sorry, Dad. It just happened.

It just happened? Wally Schmidt wanted to go off on his son, but it wouldn’t do any good. He had to get him out of jail, and then he’d deal with the repercussions of Kent’s stunts. You’re in for it, mister! You’re not a juvenile anymore! Sleep it off, and I’ll deal with you in the morning!

Kent tried to say something, but overwhelmed with nausea, he ran to the filthy cell toilet and threw up all over, in, and around it. My god! Clean yourself up! Wally said as he stormed out of the jail. I’ll post bail in the morning, he said to the night officer on his way out.

Yep, he replied, not caring.

Wally went home to Marta and told her the charges. What are you going to do with him? How are you going to get him off? she asked.

Maybe I shouldn’t get him off! He’s out of control, Wally replied. Then he continued, I don’t know. I’ll call John Peterson in the morning and see what he can do. John Peterson was the family attorney who handled setting up Wally’s business ventures, will, and various matters. He’s not a criminal attorney, but he can guide me to get Kent good counsel, Wally said as he poured a glass of scotch and slumped into a chair.

Almost as an afterthought, Marta asked if anyone was hurt. Wally replied, No. Thank God for that much. It certainly could have gone that way. He even took a poke at Ed Walton in his home before Ed threw him out! What a fool!

Marta replied in exasperation, He’s in trouble, and part of it is he took a shot at the DA? Oh my god, how dumb can he be? Then with worried concern, she asked, Do you think he’ll throw the book at him?

Wally sighed in exasperation, saying, Ed’s a good man. He’s fair. I know he’s not looking to destroy a kid’s life for being stupid. I’ll try to talk with him, Marta.

You’d better let a lawyer do that. You can’t appear to tamper or obstruct or whatever those things are called, Marta cautioned. I’ll talk to him with a lawyer present. I’ll let the lawyer do most of the talking and let Ed see that I take this seriously and hope he’ll let a father take charge of his son rather than sending him to jail.

Then you’d better let him know what punishment he’ll face from his father. He can’t go off scot-free. Maybe take away his car? Marta offered hesitantly.

That’s the easy part! There’s no way he doesn’t lose his license over this! Wally exclaimed. I’ve got to think. Wally poured himself another tall one.

The next morning Wally called John Peterson and told him what had happened with Kent. I don’t do criminal law, but I think Eric Johnson can help you out on this one. I’ll give him a call, or you can.

Wally thought for a moment and said, I always find it’s best to have an introduction, and in business, it never hurts to let your colleagues know you’re steering them business.

True enough. I’ll call Eric, John offered. You go to the jail and see what’s happening with bail, and I’ll call you and let you know when you can meet with Eric. Then you can bail Kent out, and we’ll see what sort of deal we can reach with the DA.

I sure hope so. Wally sighed in relief. But Ed Walton has to be pretty ticked off after what happened at his home.

Oh yeah! John agreed.

Wally went to the county jail, and the desk officer told him bail had not been set yet. The judge probably wouldn’t set bail until afternoon. Where is Kent’s car? Wally asked.

The officer replied, In impound. It was towed in last night.

Wally went to the impound lot and asked to see the car. Bob Kohl’s impound lot was a fenced-in area adjacent to his junkyard just outside town. Wally looked through the fence and saw the Dobermans roaming the lot. He approached the office and looked for Bob. They had done some business, with the junkyard providing replacement parts for repairing older cars at the dealership. He found Bob behind the counter and said, Hi, Bob. It seems you have one of mine in your impound lot.

Sure enough. It came in late last night. It’s a little beat up, but not too bad, Bob replied.

Bob led Wally through the back door and into the impound lot. He called the Dobermans to him and ordered them to sit and stay. The Trans Am was easy to spot, and so was the damage. The plastic rear bumper was dinged where Kent had run over the mailbox, and it had been nearly torn off when he hit