Beth: Legacy of Love

By Jeffery Young

A black widow spider kills beauty every time it eats. But in itself, it’s beautiful. People who say that high school is the best time to live are too wrapped up in themselves to realize they are not the center of the world and too stupid to admit that they will not live forever! Being a teenager is tough. Having to live in a world as a seventeen-year-old girl is even harder. Beth Davis and Marjorie Williams were best friends who began high school as teenagers, but only one would survive to be a woman. Beth was a Christian; Marjorie was not. When Beth succumbed to spinal meningitis, leaving behind a full and promising life. Marjorie began to learn that being popular and physically beautiful were all illusions that pass in time and end in death.

Growing up in the late 1970s was a life of polyester dresses, bell bottoms, and fake IDs. Kids experimented with marijuana, sex, and cocaine, which seemed to wait outside like the door prize on their eighteenth birthday. Disco was not a myth, and Barry Manilow’s “Copacabana” was a hit. Seeing young women at clubs in nice dresses and clean-cut boys with styled hair was a pleasant change from the hippie generation. As Neil Sedaka would later write, “They had groove, they had feeling!” The perfect cloister inside the high school bubble shielded an aspiring generation from most of the heartaches of reality. Then death struck down Beth without warning, and youth was shattered, leaving an empty shell. Just like the spider devours the butterfly leaving behind only beautiful wings, so does spinal meningitis leave a fallen little girl. As life goes on in nature, so do goodness and love survive the human heart. Marjorie learned she needed Jesus.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 17, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649527202

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Beth

Legacy of Love

Jeffery Young

Copyright © 2021 Jeffery Young

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books, Inc.

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2021

ISBN 978-1-64952-719-6 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64952-720-2 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

To Jackie Kay Young,

my late wife

To Tracy Ross,

the real Beth

PREFACE

I thank you for taking this opportunity to read my novel, Beth. I think that you will find this to be unlike any book that you’ve ever read. There are a series of plots within plots and at the heart of it is a group of high school girls who are trying to compete and live in the culture of popularity, sex, and hedonism. Then at the center of all that is a deep spiritual experience that is manifested in wondrous pseudo-paranormal happenings in the Christian faith. It takes place in 1976 at the end of the Ford administration. The country is healing from the deep wound that was Watergate. At our nation’s helm is a kindly, upright, and respected leader who was appointed to serve after the resignation of his predecessor. Here, no names are mentioned because these are fringe characters, but their identities are implied. The whole story is set in Trenton, Florida, which is a beautiful, wealthy, and artistic center of the state. One of the power brokers for the picturesque city is William E. Paris, a wealthy businessman who made his fortune on strip mining phosphates in central Florida and selling a bulk of these chemicals to the Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War. As a side effect of his operations, thousands of pristine natural wetlands have been destroyed, and that threatens the whole ecology of Florida. Vowing to stop him is a reporter named Jim Navelle, who has blown the whistle on Paris Industries, and Navelle has become a real thorn in the side of the Paris Machine. To stop the wave of articles against him, William Paris begins a spin campaign to whitewash his criminal activities. To do this, Paris tries to become community active and pump millions of dollars of blood money into charitable community events. He even goes so far as creating a social event where he virtually pimps the local high school’s cheerleaders to a group of visiting Australian baseball players. Paris has White House contacts working for him and civic operatives on his pay roll. If he’s successful, his efforts will silence the opposition to his strip-mining operations and allow him to continue destroying prime Florida property.

At the center of Trenton is its high school. Just as William E. Paris is the symbol of power and wealth in the state, Paris’s son Billy is the symbol of wealth, coolness, and popularity. He is a user who makes big promises but delivers little, if anything at all, after he’s gotten what he wants from the people around him. He has a group of followers who provide muscle and intimidation. However, as in many schools across the country, the popular people are usually the football players and the cheerleaders. Hillview High is no different. There are two protagonists who set the tone in the conflict between them. Marjorie Williams is a very attractive and talented cheerleader who wants prestige and flashy people around her. Beth Davis is equally as attractive with pudgy dimpled cheeks and an outgoing personality that makes her a born leader. But a few years ago, Beth became a Christian, and to some of her peers, this is difficult to understand. She isn’t preachy about it, but Beth abstains from many of the dangerous behaviors like teenage drinking and sex, which are virtually rites of passage to being popular for some social groups.

In the end, Marjorie’s pursuit of wealth and status wins her the Jamboree Queen’s crown, living in with the uber-popular Billy Paris, and the admiration of her classmates. But Billy Paris is a drug dealer, and he soon gets arrested for trafficking narcotics. The catalyst that sends her down this path is the breakup of her parents’ marriage. Soon, Marjorie finds herself living as a sex slave to a drug dealer and being abused daily. Marjorie’s best friend, Beth, tries to help her by warning her about this reckless path she’s taken. Beth tells Marjorie that Billy Paris has a secret reputation as an abuser and that only his dad’s money has kept him out of jail. Marjorie refuses to accept her friend’s advice and goes ahead and does what she wants. Soon, Marjorie realizes that she has gotten too far over her head, but instead of seeking out her friend for help, Marjorie pushes Beth even further away. This causes Marjorie to sink even deeper into her own private hell.

There are three events that are key to the development of these two characters. The first is the arrival of the Australian baseball players who are being toured nationally by the Paris Corporation; the second is the Spring Jamboree, and both Beth and Marjorie are members of the Jamboree Court; and the third is the finale that is topped off by a visit from the president of the United States. In each of these events, the reader is given an opportunity to see the inner characters of the two young women and what finally leads them to take the path that they eventually take.

Beth was written for teenagers, and it talks about the stresses and pressures that confront young people. Though it is written at a time when most of the people who lived that era are in their fifties today, the subject matter is still relevant. Because the main characters are female, Beth has been called a girl’s book. But it has attributes that make it a boy’s book as well. One of the main lures is the presence of women.

Finally, Beth is a Christian novel with many instances of Christian symbolism. The character of Jester B. Christopher is the Christlike figure that comes to earth to give good advice to young people in trouble who wouldn’t seek the normal channels of counsel. The other constant symbolism is the allegory of the spider and the butterfly. These symbols appear as warnings, foreshadowing, and eventually symbols of triumph. The final symbol in Beth is Beth herself. When she dies of spinal meningitis to the shock of the whole community, her life becomes a symbol of hope, and a legacy of love is born.

But the ultimate event that stresses the human soul is death. It affects every facet of human life. How we deal with death when it happens, especially to someone close by, shows the strength and depth of our character. Whether it’s the death of a child, a parent, or a friend, death stresses the limits of our minds and forces us to accept hardship and pain. Beth shows that in the end, even the children can teach us something about living and how to get more out of who we are. Beth doesn’t claim to have all the answers, but it does offer an alternative to living. By learning how to fall in love, Beth fixes marriages, mends friendships, and offers inner understanding through a novel. Beth is based on a true story, and the novelization was only done to magnify ideas and put context to otherwise complicated ideologies.

I believe anyone who reads this book will be changed forever.

CHAPTER ONE

The class of ’76 was just a temporary guest to the land of the sharks. Each year, Hillview High School contributed five hundred new citizens to the Florida community. Each year, there were more families, more marriages, more deaths, and more births, and Hillview High School always held its own. The big five hundred! It wasn’t a very special school, by any means, just a school where teenagers from ages fifteen to eighteen spent six hours each day, learning, playing, or both. But the key difference, if there was one, was the fact that these people had pride in their local high school. They were proud to go to a football game, thrilled to be called Rah, Rah, School Spiriters and just as thrilled when someone asked if they were from the land of the sharks.

The heart of Hillview High didn’t lie within the confines of the stuffy little office building, which was more of a makeshift barracks than a house of administration. Instead, it lay in the mammoth gym room where many a spirited pep rally was held. During school hours, the coaches held various classes in physical education there. However, after school, Hillview’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were awakened from their sleep as the school spirit was conjured by the sound of dancing feet. It was in that room where Mrs. Briner’s dancing cheerleaders gathered to practice some of their special routines.

The janitor was sweeping the gym floor as some of the cheerleaders trickled through the door. His work was silent and thorough as he broomed his way over every speck of dust blown in by the wind or carried in by a forgetful student who didn’t wipe their feet. Nevertheless, a dirty floor was to be cleaned, and he was the only one to do it. The girls walked over to some of the indoor stands and sat down. Each had her uniform on, a brightly colored skirt, which was accented by a blouse with many folds in the material, revealing the school hues. It was the official uniform of the Hillview Dancing Cheerleaders. The janitor, however, paid little attention to the highly spirited and colorfully dressed cheerleaders as they carelessly walked through his neatly stacked piles of dirt.

I wonder when Mrs. Briner will be here? asked Jill Sauls as she sat with the other girls in the stands. You’d think she’d be here by now!

Oh, answered Patty Brown as she finished her Geometry homework. She’s probably talking to Miss Perfect, Beth Davis. How she ever became the captain of the cheerleaders, I’ll never know! Then she turned to the girl next to her. What do you think, Marge?

Marjorie Williams was casually primping herself in a small compact mirror, not really paying any attention to the other girls until Patty nudged her shoulder.

Well, Marge? repeated Patty.

Well what? asked Marjorie innocently.

What do you think of Beth Davis as captain of the cheerleaders?

Marjorie sat quietly for a moment as she contemplated the question. Then she got the answer she was looking for. Well, I guess she’s better than the captain we had last year.

Do you mean Diana Peters? asked Terri Thurnsgood. She carefully wiped off her sword, which was one of many props used in the girls’ dance.

I thought she was okay, interjected Wendy Bows, the eavesdropping dishwater blond.

But look at it like this, began Marjorie. Whose idea was it to sell candy instead of greeting cards? Then she accented her point by making flamboyant hand gestures. We made more money this year alone compared to the last three years put together, and it isn’t even jamboree time. I don’t know what you think, but I like the way she’s been running things.

That’s only because you’re the assistant captain! accused Patty. She stood and walked to the door looking for Mrs. Briner. Then Patty reseated herself. It’s that smiley face Beth always has! It’s just creepy to have someone smiling all the time like that…and the way she carries that Bible with her is weird man—really WEIRD!

Oh, come off it, Patty! commanded Marjorie. You know that everybody here likes Beth, so why don’t you fly up a tree?

You’re just jealous, Patty, interrupted Jill. You can’t stand the fact that Beth was elected to the student council, and you weren’t!

Patty flashed her Spanky-like glare and put her fist on her hip. Pam, another cheerleader, walked in. When she saw Patty, she immediately burst into laughter. Patty turned toward Pam and hissed!

Pam laughed all the harder.

Uh-oh, said Terri. Looks like the fat’s gonna hit the fan!

Just what do you think you’re laughing at? snarled Patty. I don’t think anything’s funny!

Oh, Patty, Pam replied. It’s just the way you look when you’re mad. Then Pam leaned close to her and put an arm around Patty’s shoulder. Your eyes bulge like a bullfrog, and your neck stretches like a turtle.

Patty was aghast. Well, thanks a lot, Pam! You’re a real heap, you know that?

When Patty said that, Pam’s humor soured. She stopped her laughing and sat quietly, folding her arms. There were other cheerleaders who sat at the top of the stands and carried on their own little conversations. Patty decided to join them. Marjorie, however, remained seated and talked to Jill, Terri, Pam, and Wendy.

At the top of the stands, Gloria, Sharyn, Debbie, and Nancy were quietly discussing some of the dates they had. Debbie was making some rather interesting illustrations with her fingers, when Patty joined them.

And there I was, Debbie continued, holding on to the back seat as he—

Hey, everybody, Patty interrupted. What do you think of Beth as captain?

Why did you interrupt me? demanded Debbie. She was peeved because she was just about to get to the good part of her story. I don’t go around interrupting you.

I just wanted to know what you thought about Beth as Captain of the cheerleaders.

I think she’s okay, replied Debbie.

She was real good in that play, said Sharyn, another drama student. I’m just surprised she didn’t try out for any plays this year.

What does being in a play have to do with it? asked Nancy.

I think way down in the translation, began Gloria Bothby, that Sharyn sees Beth as I do when I play tennis with her after practice. Beth is the highly competitive, hardworking leadership type, who belongs in the capacity of captain, and furthermore—

Yeah, yeah, Gloria, said Sharyn, enough already! Patty, what we’re trying to say is that we think Beth is a pretty good captain, don’t you?

Patty was outnumbered. Oh sure, I was just wondering!

Patty left the girls at the top of the stands and rejoined Marjorie and the others. Marjorie stood on one side of Patty, and Pam stood on the other. They sensed a point had been made, and they wanted to cash in on it.

Well? Marjorie folded her arms. What did they say?

Is she? continued Pam. Or isn’t she?

What do you think? returned Patty. Then she got up and walked out just as Mrs. Briner and Beth came in.

I wonder what’s wrong with her? Mrs. Briner asked.

She had to go to the bathroom! Marjorie laughed.

Don’t fall in! called Pam.

Beth and Mrs. Briner just stood there looking puzzled.

Then Beth walked over to the stands and sat down next to her best friend Marjorie. The two were alike in many different ways. Both had blond hair, although Beth’s was a shade darker, and each of them sported rich suntans. They were about the same size—somewhere between 5'6 and 5'8. Yet the only real difference between them, however, had nothing to do with their physical or mental configuration. Both were good students as well as good athletes. It laid in a reality far deeper than things someone could see with their eyes. Beth was a Christian, and Marjorie was not.

Mrs. Briner clapped her hands, calling for their attention. Okay, girls, she began. I have a meeting. I must leave in a few minutes, so we’re not going to have practice today. There was a sporadic round of applause. Since you girls know the routine you’ll be doing at the Spring Jamboree, I’ve asked Beth to meet with you to tell you exactly what I want.

Why don’t we meet at my house? suggested Marjorie. We’ll have more room at my house and its closer to the school.

Well, Mrs. Briner asked. Is that all right?

Sure, replied Beth.

Okay, girls, Mrs. Briner said. Meeting adjourned.

Beth scurried around her room to get things organized before she was due at Marjorie’s. She straightened the wrinkles in the bed. Then she walked over to the mirror and brushed her hair until it lay softly upon her shoulders. With a little bit of makeup, her eyes glowed brown amid a deep blue sea. Just a spot of lipstick, she thought. She didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. After she was satisfied with her appearance, she quickly rushed into the kitchen where her mother, Ann, was busily making supper.

Hi, Beth, Ann said with a smile. Are you going somewhere tonight?

Beth walked over to her and gently kissed her mother on the cheek. Yeah, the cheerleaders are practicing our routine for the Spring Jamboree. I have to be at Marjorie’s at four thirty. Is there anything ready to eat?

There is some lunch meat in the refrigerator, and the dressing is in the cabinet over the sink.

Beth opened the refrigerator and took out the lunchmeat and some bread. Then she walked over to the drawer by the stove and pulled out a bread knife. Going to the cabinet, Beth grabbed the mayonnaise and mustard and went about her work of making a sandwich.

Is Dad home yet? asked Beth as she went for some lettuce in the refrigerator.

Not yet, dear, replied her mother. Could you get some onions from the pantry?

Beth walked to the pantry and got the onions and gave them to her mother. I was wondering if he was still mad after our argument last night.

Ann stopped her preparation and looked at her daughter. He didn’t say anything about it this morning. Your father has never been able to stay mad for very long. He always seems to cool off in a hurry.

I just wonder what makes us fight like that. Beth spread some mustard on her sandwich and added cheese.

Her mother paused and thought for a moment. I think that it’s because you both are so much alike. I’ve lived with your father for twenty years, and believe me, you’re both as stubborn as a mule! But your big problem is the fact that you have had bad timing for a lot of things. Take last night as an example. You shouldn’t have asked your father for that dress just after he had come home from work.

Well, I had to have it for the Spring Jamboree. I might be in the Jamboree Court!

Still, you should have waited until he was rested. After all, $300 is a lot of money.

They both giggled a bit. Beth finally finished making her sandwich and poured a glass of milk.

Yes, I suppose you’re right, Beth said as she carried her sandwich to the breakfast bar and sat down. I just hope that dad still isn’t mad. Beth looked at the clock and saw that it was 4 o’clock. She rushed by taking three bites of her sandwich.

No, Ann Davis replied. I don’t think he’s still mad. He called me this afternoon at the office and asked me what size dress you wear. If anything, he probably loves it when you spar with him.

Beth’s eyes opened wide. With her mouth still full, she choked a loud and happy. He did? She quickly swallowed and repeated more clearly, He did?

That’s right, Beth, Ann said. He did! He said that he’d give it to you after the tailor was finished as a surprise.

Beth took another bite of her sandwich, swallowed half of it, and said, All right! Then she washed it down with her milk. Did he say when he’d bring it home? Is it the one I wanted?

Yes, your father said he’d bring it home when it was ready, and I told him that it was the one that had the gold flowers and wide collar.

Did you tell him where to get it? Beth asked, washing her hands.

Of course, dear, at Christy’s Boutique, Ann replied.

That’s it! She went to the sink, washed out her glass, and left it there. She glanced over to the clock on the wall. It was 4:25 p.m. I gotta go!

Beth kissed her mother and rushed out to the garage. Mrs. Davis scurried after her and stopped in the doorway in time to see Beth opening the door to her 68 Maroon Fury III.

What time are you going to be home? asked Mrs. Davis.

Beth paused at the car door. "I shouldn’t be any later than about five or five thirty. Maybe six, if the girls decide to stick around and talk.

Gossip again? giggled the teenager’s mother.

Mother! snapped Beth. Then she smiled and purred, Yeah.

*****

There were several cars filling the small driveway in front of the Williamses’ home when Beth arrived. Bold and colorful bumper stickers on each car proclaimed staunch support for Hillview High School with daring slogans like Hillview Sharks Eat Sailors or Don’t Jaw around with Hillview Sharks! Beth parked her car on the curb and got out. The sounds of girlish laughter echoed from within the house. Beth locked her car door and weaved her way through the many cars, which had filled the driveway, to the front door. The big Spring Jamboree game was just a few weeks away, and all the cheerleaders were meeting every day after school to practice the welcoming dance for the Jamboree King and Queen.

Hi, Beth! Marjorie and the other girls called out as they opened the front door and welcomed their late team captain.

Sorry I’m late, Beth replied, I needed a bite.

That’s okay, Beth, said Marjorie.

Yeah, agreed Pam. Let’s just hurry up and get started.

Beth trudged up the stepping stone walkway, which was lined with bright red roses. An elegant butterfly fluttered about majestically from flower to flower with the poise and grace of a ballerina. It caught Beth’s eye as it flew by and right into a spider’s web. The butterfly was quickly entangled in the spider’s web. Suddenly, the butterfly became engulfed by a strange light, which appeared to be a cross.

Come on, Beth, called Marjorie.

Yeah, sure, Beth said softly.

Beth glanced once more at the ugly spider as it quietly ripped the colorful wings from the insect and allowed them to fall to the ground. She knelt down and picked one of them up. The colors shimmered like rhinestones. There was a speck of red at the tip of the wing. Blood? It isn’t possible. The red spot disappeared.

What are you doing, Beth? asked Marjorie. Come on! Hurry up!

Beth dropped the butterfly wing and joined the other girls inside. She walked over to a chair and sat down. Then she glanced down at her hand. Suddenly, the red spot appeared once more, except this time it was on her.

Blood, she whispered. Then Marjorie’s telephone rang. Beth turned away for a second, but when she looked back, the blood had disappeared.

Beth? Marjorie’s mother called, entering the living room. It’s your mother. She says that Mrs. Briner called, and she wants you to call her back. I think your mother said something about you girls performing for some Australian baseball players.

Australia? asked one of the girls.

Beth’s surprise showed on her face. I’ll call Mrs. Briner tonight and ask her what this is all about, okay?

Beth took a deep breath and brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes. Australians.

Suddenly the blood on her hand reappeared.

*****

The smell of cigar smoke was so thick that the aides of William E. Paris, president of Paris Phosphates International, dreaded to even open the door, much less stay in there and listen to him rave. However, that’s exactly what his special aide-de-camp, Jones, had to do. The Capone-looking executive, Paris, stood at a huge picture window, stroking his dark mustache and puffing on his cigar. He looked like a kingly lord studying his empire from a mountaintop. The man shook when he raised his hands. His face became red, and his cigar burned like a blazing torch as he orated and puffed on it profusely!

I don’t care what you have to do to quietly get rid of that guy Navelle, Paris fumed, but I want him off the paper!

"I’m sure, sir, that the Trenton City Herald had nothing to do with today’s editorial, Jones explained, but they have deadlines, and it must have slipped under the rug."

Paris extinguished his present cigar and lit up a fresh one. Oh, they knew what they were doing all right! They’ve been trying to get at me since that land deal in Ocala. I raked in a bundle selling that phosphate to the Russians!

Thanks to your friend, who just so happens to be the White House counsel! Jones interjected.

Gary Burgoyne, Paris laughed. If it weren’t for him, I’d have lost it all! Then he puffed his cigar and blew smoke rings. Do you know that he’s arranged for the president to visit Trenton on the first of May?

No, sir…I—Jones made a note on his clipboard—didn’t know that.

That’s what makes me the president and you the aide. Then he paced the floor in front of his huge oak desk. I don’t care how you do it, shut Navelle up. I got a bundle in trying to get us some good press by touring them Aussies throughout the United States, but if Navelle ruins it, Jones… Paris sat on his desktop and shook an accusing finger. I’ll have a new head on my mantle at home, right next to the hyena!

Jones swallowed hard and changed a page on his clipboard. Mr. Halden, the Australians’ coach, says that they need more money if you intend them to reach Trenton on time.

Paris’s eyes swelled amid his now red cheeks. What is he doing with the money we’ve been sending him, lighting cigars? It’s that guy Orwell, his business manager. He looked like an idiot when I first met him. He probably has everybody in diamonds now, the jerk! Tell Halden, he will get his money, but I want our people to see that it’s spent right! Paris jabbed his cigar in the air to make that point clear.

Jones looked down at his clipboard and made another note. Your personal detective has said that your son Billy has been hanging around the high school again.

Oh no, Paris groaned as he stood and walked behind his desk to be seated. I want him to stay away from there! I don’t want any more trouble like we had in Atlanta. That’s what I get for letting him stay with his mother! Then he slapped his hand on his desk. Have you heard the way he talks? Billy was born in Chicago, but he talks like he’s from Memphis! He got that from his mother—a true belle of the South who enjoys her weekly alimony check!

The detectives say that he’s already encountered a few of the female students.

Jones held his clipboard in the small of his back. If something should develop, the man shifted in his stance, what shall I do?

Paris stood and walked over to Jones and poked his finger in Jones’s chest. But if something goes wrong, you’re going to pay everybody off, just like we did in Atlanta! I don’t want any bad press!

*****

Beth sat quietly on her bed and peered out her window. The sun was slowly going down, and it gave the sky a rich and fluent blend of colors. The cheerleaders finished their practice earlier than usual, and Beth was home before six that evening. After calling Mrs. Briner, Beth decided she’d go up to her room and do some homework. She looked beyond the horizon and found the sun burning like a red disk above the bay. Her eyes filled with tears. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. A tear dripped down her cheek, and she looked again to the horizon. The seagulls squawked loudly in their separate groups. They seemed to cry out with joy as they dove for fish. The sound of the breaking waves filled the silence as the tide washed into the bay. Beth sat quietly at peace with herself and at peace for the time being, with all her worries.

CHAPTER TWO

It was 9:45 a.m., and the halls of Hillview High were crowded with students trying to rush to their first-period class. At Hillview, the teachers lowered grading averages for tardiness. Beth could not afford to lose her position as captain of the cheerleaders by getting a D on her report card simply because she was late. So she arduously worked her way through the crowd. There was, however, one obstacle that stood in her way and occasionally made her late. Everybody wanted to say hello! Beth was just that type of person. None of her friends would let her pass without saying hello, and she always replied with a spirited hi and a happy smile!

The other students in Beth’s morning English class had already arrived. Beth took her seat behind Marjorie. Though her other classmates were talking to their friends about the things they were going to do after school, none of their conversations aroused Marjorie’s interest. She paid little attention to what the lower-class people talked about. Marjorie instead turned around and motioned for Beth to look at the class instructor Mr. Melville.

How about that! exclaimed Beth. She took her books and placed them under her seat. Sound asleep as usual. We could be partying, and he wouldn’t even stir. But when the bell rings, he’s wide-awake and ready to go. It’s almost like pushing a button and turning him on and off.

I wonder what he smokes before he comes here every morning. Marjorie laughed. Hey, Beth, did you call Mrs. Briner last night about the Australians?

Yeah, Beth replied, she says that it’s all set with the Chamber of Commerce. They asked the school if we could perform.

All right! purred Marjorie. There ought to be some honies among them!

Beth’s eyes lit up, and then she frowned. Is that all you can think about is sex and boys?

Marjorie smiled broadly. Yeah, how about you?

Of course! giggled Beth.

Marjorie then put her hand on Beth’s shoulder and whispered in her ear. Say, Beth, speaking about some real hot-looking guys, did you see that new guy Billy Paris?

No, why? asked Beth, somewhat puzzled.

Why? Why? replied Marjorie in disbelief. He’s got to be the hottest-looking guy in the history of Hillview High! Haven’t you heard anything about him?

Well, I heard a little. Beth squirmed in her seat.

Marjorie’s eye lit up. And you want to hear something really wild?

He’s really a Nigerian prince?

He’s only been here for about two weeks, and already he’s made it with about ten girls! Then Marjorie giggled. That’s almost one girl a day!

He only takes time off for Saturday and Sunday, right? Beth reached under her seat and pulled out her textbook. Well, I heard that some of those girls didn’t want to do it!

Oh! That can’t be true! I doubt if he’s like that! Marjorie turned back around in her seat as the class bell rang. Then she sighed. He’s even rich!

Well, I don’t know how rich he is, added Beth, but if I were you, I’d look out for him until I got to know a little bit more about him!

You’re just jealous! snapped Marjorie.

About what? Beth laughed.

Billy Paris! Marjorie snapped.

Beth opened her book. Oh, come off it! You know that I wouldn’t say anything about the guy if I didn’t wonder.

Marjorie thought for a moment. Well then, you are wrong. Billy is far too handsome and rich to take advantage of a girl! Then Marjorie turned around and grabbed Beth’s arm. You believe that?

I don’t really know enough about him to say, honest.

*****

The end of the day came quickly, and Mrs. Briner’s seventh-period modern dance class had gathered in the gym. This was a special class because it consisted only of the cheerleaders. Beth and the other girls slowly emerged from the locker room, dressed in their multicolored tights. They were laughing and exchanging girlish gossip when Mrs. Briner finally walked in with her grade book. Suddenly, the girls grew quiet, so quiet that you could hear the safety pin on Pam’s tights pop open, forcing her to refasten it.

Mrs. Briner was a woman of precision and accuracy, and she demanded that from her students, as well. However, she was not an overbearing person, and she was willing to go that extra mile if it meant that her girls could get it right. Her being forty didn’t change anything, either. She still could outrun all the girls and then do a dance with the perfect precision of Catherine Graham. When she was younger, she was a professional dancer until she tore a ligament, which forced her to devote her talents to education instead of the professional theater. Now, at forty, with a lovely figure still intact, she worked arduously to teach young girls the art of dancing.

Good morning, Mrs. Briner, the girls sang out in unison. We-are-eleven-little-duckies-waiting-for-our-mother-duck.

Good afternoon, she corrected them. I hope that your dancing is as good as your spirits.

Gloria, who was standing behind Beth, raised her hand.

Yes, Gloria? Mrs. Briner asked.

Have you heard anything about the Australians yet?

I don’t know if Beth has told you, but yes, I have decided to let you girls dance for them.

The girls jumped up and down with excitement!

However, Mrs. Briner continued, you’re going to have to do better on your jamboree routine because I might have you do that one for them.

Where are they now, Mrs. Brinier? asked Debbie.

Well, since it’s the Chamber of Commerce that’s asked us to perform for them, you’d really have to get in contact with a member for that answer. But the last thing I heard from them was that they are touring Washington, DC, and are expected to visit with the president sometime this week.

Wow! The president! squealed Pam.

Mrs. Briner clapped her hands. Okay, girls, I took a look at your routine the other day, and well, to tell you the truth, I thought it looked pretty good!

The girls whistled and cheered!

But not good enough for Australian baseball players! Mrs. Briner shouted over the jovial cheerleaders.

Silence covered the room like a dark cloud.

What do you mean, Mrs. Briner? asked Marjorie.

Mrs. Briner put down her clipboard. Well, the only thing wrong with your routine is your timing. Every motion, every movement has to be one of unity to convey the illusion of one body working with one mind.

Each cheerleader looked at the other. Jill raised her hand.

I don’t know what it is, Jill shifted from one foot to the other. But I keep falling out of step and get lost during the routine.

Mrs. Briner walked over to Jill and put a hand on her shoulder. I’ve noticed that. For example, you’re always hesitating during the movements, and that makes you lag a few beats. She showed Jill and the others what she meant. I tell you what, Jill, maybe one of the girls would help you by showing you how to do the routine. Mrs. Briner turned to Beth. Would you like to take the class period to teach Jill how to do the routine, Beth?

Sure, replied Beth.

Beth took Jill aside, and the two girls began to go through the routine, as the other girls headed for the football field. Beth had demonstrated each movement with the same precision that Mrs. Briner used. Beth and Jill danced through it together. Then Beth had Jill go through it alone.

Mrs. Briner and the other girls came back into the huge gym room as Beth and Jill finished the final segment of the routine and slid to the floor and back to back, laughing.

U-humph! Mrs. Briner said as she stood over them with scrutinizing eyes. Well, I hope that you two have ironed out the problem.

Instant terror filled Beth and Jill’s faces as they saw their coach standing above them, and they bounded to their feet. Then Beth swallowed and replied, Sure have, just a simple matter—confidence. That’s all. Jill’s got it down now.

Mrs. Briner frowned in disbelief. Do you mean to stand there and tell me that you did it all in one class period, and the only thing wrong with Jill’s dancing was that she had no self-confidence?

Sure, replied Beth.

The two girls started to laugh again.

Mrs. Briner waved her hands in surrender and shook her head as she went to the locker room. Then she turned back toward the girls and said, We’ll see this afternoon.

Later the cheerleaders stood together in a line as they began their dance. When the music commenced, the girls clapped their hands and slapped their waist, sashayed into a body spin, and clapped their hands again. One step forward, one back, and then they marched in a circle, clapping their hands with each step. As they made the circle smaller, the rate of their clapping increased. The smaller the circle became, the more they appeared to be a spiraling mass.

Beth and Jill were next to each other, and Marjorie stood behind Jill, quietly counting the steps for her as they danced across the floor, breaking the circle. The spiraling mass became an exploding star as other girls followed, dancing in jazz steps. The girls jumped, landing on one leg, and spun around, holding the other leg tight to their bodies and moved in perfect