Prankster

By David Connor and E.F. Mulder

Poplar Plains Town Councilman Sam Smart isn’t focused on his secret Santa, but rather a secret prankster, as his constituents seek vengeance against a jokester pulling off pranks all over town. The prime suspect? Sam’s high school crush Kirby Dumas, who just returned to town.

One nice, one naughty, Sam and Kirby were known as Smarty and Dumbass. When Kirby abruptly fled after confessing his love for Sam and also to a whopper of a prank pulled on a teacher, Sam is left to wonder what could have been.

Why did Kirby leave? Was it the joke or something else? Why has he returned? To pick up where he left off with his pranks, or to pick up where he left off with Sam?

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Dec 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781646569984

Book preview

Chapter 1

At most Poplar Plains town council meetings, the five elected board members outnumbered the audience. The December 22nd gathering saw the community rec center filled almost to capacity, though, and the chattering throng had Councilperson Sam Smart VII expecting anything but a silent night.

Good evening, Samuel.

Merry Christmas, Mrs. Penny.

Warm air from the ductwork made Sam’s red curls crackle when he pulled off his green and white snowflake hat by its puffy blue pom-pom. The boiler wasn’t the only thing heating up the room. One specific item on the agenda had already stoked the crowd. Number two under new business—The Town Prankster.

Town Supervisor Betty Penny was the prankster’s first victim back before anyone knew there’d be several, back before anyone knew there’d be a prankster to be sought. The onetime school librarian was still a stereotype for her former occupation in horn-rimmed blue glasses and graying hair twisted into a bun.

Please be seated.

Sam sat immediately. Though he’d been out of high school over a decade, he had a feeling he would always do what Mrs. Penny said.

Poplar Plains: Get Smart. Be Nice. Seeing the words beside his ginger mug on signs all over the community gave Sam a good feeling, and though his opponent called the campaign slogan and platform juvenile, Sam, two years into his first term, was elected by an overwhelming majority.

The Smarts had roots in Poplar Plains as deep as the trees for which the town was named. The previous six Sams had been born there, too, and number seven didn’t see himself leaving anytime soon. Sam wanted to do good for the community he loved, the community that mostly loved him back. He put his Be nice initiative into practice almost immediately, inviting locals to the Poplar Plains webpage to share something nice someone had done for them or something nice they’d done for another. When the board found money for a scrolling marquee sign now placed across from the local non-denominational church, Sam asked if he could, from time to time, upload names, essay snippets, even photos, and soon, between meeting notifications, holiday greetings, and the occasional memoriam, the scrolling Poplar Plains Nice List was born.

Looks like quite the turnout, Sam noted.

People were still filing in, Yes, and Betty Penny was not happy, either about that or upon noticing her ex-husband among the stragglers.

Betty. Henry Penny nodded on his way past the dais.

Henry.

The former Mr. and Mrs. Penny wouldn’t make the marquee’s Nice List that night, not with a greeting chillier than the first upstate New York frost. Opposites in most ways, it seemed, one was tall enough to look six-foot-one Sam eye to eye—at least eye to brow—while the other only rose to Sam’s chin.

What Poplar Plains High’s Trigonometry teacher turned principal lacked in height, he more than made up for with an enviable physique showed off during downtime in what looked like tailored to fit track suits in a rainbow of colors. That evening, Henry had chosen red, the same shade as the bow on the Christmas wreath behind the dais, and it was obvious from the sweat on his brow and his deep breaths he’d jogged to the meeting. Sam wondered, as he thought back to a recent invitation he’d extended, if Henry had taken up exercise as a substitute for a passion now denied.

* * * *

Sing at the tree lighting? Even Henry’s speaking voice was melodic, crisp, and resonant. You can’t be serious, Sam.

Of course, I’m serious. You have a beautiful voice, Mr. Penny.

Henry.

"You have a beautiful voice, Henry, perfect for hymns and carols."

"I think this town—and you—have heard enough of