Joebie

By Mary Ann Donovan

A senior at Hamilton High and sometimes the class clown, Joebie and his best friend DT are a popular duo among their group of friends. Joebie also has a special relationship with Eileen, who helps him with his homework and covers for his careless ways.

Spending the better part of two years restoring a vintage convertible, Joebie puts the finishing touches on his Star Car as his senior year begins. As he drives the car out of the garage, he has no idea of the events that will lie ahead.

Joebie soon becomes the focus of Angela Magdons attention. As one of the prettiest girls in Hamilton High, Angela is surrounded by a small group of cool friends and dates only the most popular guys in school. Having had a crush on Angela ever since he saw her, Joebie was quick to fall for her charms despite the warnings of his best friend, DT, and Eileen.

Joebie is the story of a first love and a first heartbreak. It is the story of the life lessons learned about true love and true friendship.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546234418

Mary Ann Donovan

no ATA

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Copyright © 2018 Mary Ann Donovan. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/29/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5462-3442-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-3441-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

For my

husband and my children,

with great love

1

Joebie took a look into the small, rectangular glass window in the door and adjusted his hat. When the fire doors were pulled back, the clear pane became opaque and offered a mirror check to a passerby. Joebie liked to wear his baseball hat backwards with the peak pointing down. His curly brown hair formed a ring around his face setting off his clear blue eyes. He was slight of stature, standing only about 5'10" tall. He was too light for football, too short for basketball. A better than average tennis player, he hadn’t made it past second cuts for Varsity last spring. He peeked past the door, a quick, furtive glance, trying to search out D.T.

The low rumble of voices in the cafeteria was occasionally punctuated by the screech of a chair being pulled away. From the smell of things, it was Mexican day. The odor of tacos reached Joebie. By the time you reach senior year, he thought, you don’t need to see the lunchroom menu. You know every meal by its smell!

Students of Hamilton High School congregated in the cafeteria every day during their free periods as well as during their lunch. They sat in close groups divided by grade or special clique. Some people bought their snacks there or had a doughnut for breakfast. But, by the time they were seniors, no one ate the prepared food.

Joebie spotted D.T. across the room. He was always easy to find in a crowd. D.T.’s carrot-colored hair stood out from every other head around him. Shorter than Joebie, D.T. had given sports a whirl his freshman year when he went out for wrestling. But he found the regimen of eating or not eating to maintain his weight just too difficult for him to handle, so he quickly gave it up. Things weren’t easy for D.T. at home, either. He found he needed time after school for a job.

Joebie and D.T. had been close friends from the first day they met in kindergarten and shared a love for Matchbox cars and chocolate chip cookies at snack time. To Joebie, D.T. was as faithful as an ol’ hound dog and as playful as a pup. Joebie would think that of D.T. and say it in his mind with a soft southern drawl, but he would never say it out loud to D.T. It would embarrass him. D.T.’s only problem was that he was always in trouble. The teachers hated his jokes and silly antics. Joebie, though, knew D.T.’s serious side and how sensitive he really was. D.T. was the best friend a guy could have.

Moving his shoulders inside his jean jacket to get it to fall carelessly almost off his shoulders, and taking one last quick look, Joebie started toward the table where D.T. was sitting. He slipped his hands into his pockets, his notebook rolled up between his elbow and his body, and walked into the cafeteria. He lifted his heels up as he walked, giving Joebie’s movement a jaunty sort of stride.

D.T. was, as usual, in the middle of a group talking to Ralph, Ed, Mike, Lisa, Jen, Kara, and Jessica. Joebie looked quickly around at the various groups and tried to act cool. D.T. spotted him and shouted out, Hey, Joebie! Over here.

Joebie was thankful for D.T.’s recognition. He hated walking into the cafeteria alone. He slid into an empty chair next to D.T. and threw his notebook on the table.

Hey, D. What’s up?

Not much.

Eileen Cummings sat at a nearby table. She could be pretty, Joebie thought as he smiled over to her. Her light brown hair was always pulled back away from her face with two neat barrettes. Her eyes were hazel brown and she never wore makeup. She was plain but soft. That’s what Joebie liked best about Eileen. She was soft. That, and the fact that she was a pal, and he could always count on her for homework.

Hey, Eileen, do you have the Physics homework?

Eileen looked up from her books, over the edge of her wire-rimmed glasses.

Yes, I do. She looked down.

C’mon, Eileen, don’t be such a prude.

Eileen opened her looseleaf notebook carefully and unsnapped the rings. She lifted out the page and placed it in front of her. Joebie got up and pulled out the seat across from her.

Thanks a bunch, he said softly. By the way, got any looseleaf paper I can borrow?

Eileen looked up at him, a half smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

God, Joebie, you are hopeless.

And…

And a pen. She cut him off mid-sentence. Here. She folded her hands together, elbows on the table and rested her head on her hands as she watched him scribble the work down, his head buried in the paper.

You know you will never learn the material this way, Eileen said.

I know. I know. Eileen, you worry too much. Did I ever tell you that? He spoke and wrote simultaneously. She shook her head and resumed reading. And, he continued, you read too much, too! He looked up at her and smiled, revealing a chipped tooth.

Eileen looked at him warmly and said, Yes, I know. It’s a good thing one of us does some reading, Joebie.

Joebie handed her homework paper and the pen back to Eileen. Thanks, he said.

She waved her hand to indicate, Forget it. She carefully placed the page back into her binder and the pen back into her case.

He pulled his chair back away from her table but turned slightly toward D.T. This included Eileen in the table conversation.

So, Joebie, how’s the car coming? Eileen asked.

Joebie had bought an old hulk of a ’57 Ford. He had been working on the car every spare minute. All the money he did not have to save for college went into the repairs and body work on the car. The job he had at a local garage run by Mr. Travis was perfect. During slow times, he would fuss over the car which he had parked behind the station. George, the mechanic there, gave him tips on auto mechanics and showed Joebie how to fix things up. He was as involved as Joebie and seemed to be as excited about the progress of the car as Joebie was.

It’s almost there. She gets her second coat of paint tomorrow.

What color? Eileen asked.

Red, naturally. It’s the Star Car, the dream machine. I hope to have the car on the road this weekend. I’m going to take care of the insurance and stuff this afternoon. My mom’s driving me over to the insurance office.

That’s great, Joebie, Eileen said.

Ah! But will it run? D.T. chimed in.

Joebie laughed. You bet it will! George will have it running as smooth as silk. I’ll get insured, get the plates….."

Then, Joebie-One-Kanobe takes to the highway, D.T. finished the sentence for him.

You got that right!

Joebie-One-Kanobe? What’s that all about? asked Eileen. She looked from Joebie to D.T. for an explanation.

Well, you see my friend here, D.T. began, is a Star Wars freak. He’s got posters lining the ceiling, the walls, and everything else in his room. Somehow the name came about and it kind of stuck. The rest, as they say, is history.

I get it, Eileen nodded and then turned her head back into her book and continued her reading. Her glasses slid to the end of her nose. She pushed them back with her index finger.

Eileen, how can you study so much? It’s sick! D.T. said. The girls sitting across from D.T. exchanged glances and tried to stifle their laughter.

Joebie stood up. He reached across to the table at which Eileen sat and whipped off her glasses. He popped them on his face askew. In a flash he had his hat turned around and the brim flipped up. He put one hand on his chest over his heart and pointed with the other hand to an imaginary board.

Unt now claz, ve vill begin. David Thomas, vere iss your homeverk, jerk? Jobie grabbed his notebook, rolled it, and began beating D.T. over the head. Speek up! Speek up! Vere iss it?

D.T. got down on his knees. Please give me another chance.

No more chances, jerk! You have twenty years detention mit me after school. He hit D.T, again. D.T. pretended to howl.

Everyone around the table started laughing and jeering at Joebie. Eileen looked up at Joebie with a semi-smile on her face. Joebie thought she looked more sad than happy.

The bell rang. Students began pushing back chairs and moving towards the door.

C’mon, Joebie, D.T. said. We can’t be late for English again.

Go ahead, D.T., said Joebie. I’ll catch up with you later. He handed Eileen her glasses.

Why do you do it, Joebie? she said.

Do what?

Play the buffoon. You are everybody’s clown. You behave like a court jester holding court.

For a minute, Joebie was stunned. Then he said, Why do you care?

Not waiting for an answer, he turned and walked away, sliding chairs toward the tables as he went. Eileen put on her glasses, using her index finger to push them firmly against her face. She took a deep breath, picked up her books, and left for her class by a side door.

2

Damn! Joebie heard the bell ring while he was midway down the hall. Oh, great! Joebie thought. Now I’m in for it. He began running as fast as he could. He passed the door to Mrs. Wickam’s room and groped for the door jam to stop himself. His sneakers squeaked as he slipped past. From inside the room, the students could see a bluish blur as Joebie passed. They heard the squeaking noise and saw Joebie’s head at an angle to the doorway as he tried to right himself. The students broke out in peals of laughter.

Way to go, Joebie!

Joebie stood up straight in the doorway and tried to make a graceful entrance. He smoothed his pants, adjusted his cap, and moved his shoulders inside his shirt. Then, slightly lifting his heels as he walked, he swaggered into the room trying to find his seat. As he made his way to his seat, students began moving their desks forward or back to accommodate him. This caused an even greater disturbance. Joebie slithered into his seat.

So nice of you to join us, Joseph, Mrs. Wickam’s acid voice chilled everyone in the room.

My pleasure to be here, Ma’am, answered Joebie.

Humrph. She turned to her attendance book to mark him present. "This is your second lateness, Joseph. One more lateness this year and you will have the pleasure of my company after school for detention."

Yes, Ma’am.

Now class, you will continue taking notes from the board.

Joebie opened his notebook. He stared at the letters and diagrams trying to figure them out. Then realized what he had done. Oh, damn! I’ve got the wrong notebook. I never took my English notebook out of the locker. He flipped through trying to find an empty page. Then, he began feeling his shirt and pants’ pockets for a pen. He looked around helplessly. He tried to get the attention of the students around him in the hope that one of them would have an extra pen.

Joseph, what are you doing? I said to start taking notes. Mrs. Wickam stared at him relentlessly. Don’t tell me that you are unprepared.

Well, Ma’am, I was in a hurry and…

He heard the pen plunk down on his desk. He looked over to see where it had come from. Only then did he realize that Eileen was sitting across from him and one seat ahead.

Thanks, buddy, he whispered. She gave him a slight sideways glance over her glasses to indicate that she had heard but said nothing. She continued taking notes.

Joseph, you are a senior now. It’s time you began taking responsibility for yourself. People will not always be there to bail you out of your mischief. Now, get down to work!

Yes, Ma’am, thank you for your kind words of advice. The class began to snicker and exchange glances. Mrs. Wickam glanced coldly around the room and the noise stopped.

As Joebie looked up at the board to take notes, he became aware of the person sitting in front of him. It was Angela Magdon. He found himself staring at Angela’s back, studying every curl in her long, dark hair. He thought how beautiful the dark brown looked against the soft pink of her sweater. He looked at the slope of