Something's Afoot

By Kipp McKenzie

Something's Afoot is a hilarious tale that will keep you guessing!It is a sequel to The Fall of Two Moons. Steve McConnell is back with his entertaining antics! He must navigate his first job, his first car, varsity football, earth science, and his lead role in the school's musical, Somethings' Afoot. Steve must deal with his behavioral shortcomings, his relationship with his peers, and his eccentric family. Steve finds himself in a conundrum as two girls set their eyes on him romantically. He must balance those increasingly complex relationships while he tries to decide which girl is the one for him.Andy McConnell has Down syndrome. He must find his place in the McConnell family, survive a family vacation, and navigate his relationship with his adoptive father, Will. Andy finds himself promoted to team manager for the Portside High School football squad as he becomes good luck for the superstitious team. His sudden rise in popularity gets him voted onto the homecoming court. Andy must play his role in helping the team win the football league title and homecoming game while he manages his rising expectations to be named homecoming king.Will McConnell plans an epic family vacation that will go down in infamy. Will also balances his role as the Portside Education Association's lead negotiator and his relationship with his superintendent and boss. When the teachers go on strike, Will must settle negotiations, save the homecoming game, homecoming dance, and his son's musical, and pass a school facilities bond. With the weight of the world on Will's shoulders, he must also save his relationship with Andy, handle his daughter's dating entanglements, and keep a close eye on Steve's growing impulsive behaviors.Something's Afoot and the center stage is set for a wild ending. Steve's worlds collide once again in a zany comedy that will make you laugh out loud.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662421181

Book preview

Chapter 1

Billy’s Teeth

Andy sat on a barstool on the dining room side of the orange kitchen counter. On the floor next to him was a blue-and-gold Portside High School duffel bag. He was making self-soothing noises and was having a feverish discussion with his two sea lion puppets that his favorite teacher, Mr. Gullman, gave him. One was brown and the other was gray. Andy was having a conversation only he and the sea lions could understand. Andy was nervous about being forgotten as the McConnell family prepared to embark on a three-week family trip in which we would travel from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean in our family Toyota minivan or what our family liked to call The Venture Van.

Andy had come to live at the McConnell house in the winter of 1982 when my father, Will McConnell, had created an affectionate bond with him at Franklin Elementary School as Andy’s teacher. Andy, who had Down syndrome, became quick friends with my father, playing basketball at recess. They would play horse, and somehow, Andy would always win on the last shot. Due to Andy’s personal circumstances, he had become homeless, temporarily living with his ninety-year-old grandparents. My father tracked him down after an extended absence from school. His father’s death and his mom’s schizophrenia were the catalyst for his displacement. After a heated weeklong family argument, my mother conceded to my father after she had a revelation from the Lord. There was no arguing with that, and my family took Andy in as a foster child. Two years later, with Andy’s blessing, he was adopted into the McConnell family. The sea lions were named after Bob and Pete, two Portside police officers. Bob Randall was best friends with my father, and he belonged to the Portside Assembly of God Church, where he and Will met. Pete was Bob’s friend and partner, and the pair had become particularly fond of Andy over the past five years. Because of this friendship, they were named accordingly. It also helped that my behavioral shortcomings had caught the attention of Bob and Pete.

It was the last day of school before summer break, and we had just concluded our freshman year. I had decided to cut out on my last-period class with several other boys and with the blessing of our football coach, Lou Latera. We had started a pickup game of three on three in the gym. Our team was comprised of my good friends Mike and Brian. Mike was six feet two and all muscle. Brian was short, muscular, and deceptively fast. The opposing team consisted of Denny Calhoun, who had a history of bad blood with Mike dating back to middle school, Billy Wilson, and Roy Barbion.

Let’s just say that Billy was not my number one fan. Earlier in the year, Billy’s senior girlfriend, Amy, broke off their courtship right before homecoming. That same day, a surprise to me, she asked me to the dance. After a passionate kiss in the front seat of her car at homecoming, our relationship blossomed. We dated for a few months, mostly because she had a car and I felt cool having a senior girlfriend. We broke it off around Christmastime. That, however, did not stop Billy from hating my guts the remainder of the year. Billy and I did not mix well. He had an attitude, and he always wanted to blame others for his abhorrent behavior.

Roy Barbion had returned after a short stint in juvenile detention and a brief relocation to California. He was full of himself. His rugged good looks and his larger-than-life personality made him popular with the female species and annoying to his friends.

Among this group were five wrestlers and me. Mike played the role of forward, Brian the point guard, and me center. Unfortunately, neither of my teammates could hit the broadside of Portside with a basketball.

Given the divide between the two teams, one could say the pickup game had gotten a little rough. Both sides had taken to calling their own fouls and jockeying for position. From there, we had several heated arguments and trash talking from both sides. The end of our freshman year was ten minutes from conclusion, and that was when Billy stole the ball from Brian and was headed for a sure layup. I was a step quicker than Billy and used my long stride to chase him down. Both sides agreed that the next basket would determine the winner, and I was not about to lose to Roy and his crew. As Billy picked up his dribble to lay it in, I plowed straight into him like a freight train and wrapped him up with both arms in an embrace that could have been considered a football move. The foul was admittedly a little harder than I anticipated, and I threw Billy into the unpadded wall behind the basket. The ball bounced off the rim and repelled back past half-court, where Brian picked it up and scored on an easy layup.

Billy let out a howl, and then to my surprise, he jumped up and shoved me to the ground, and I fell flat on my back. I gathered my wits, trying to get air to my lungs as I stood up. I was not expecting Billy to continue his assault, and his fist buzzed the tip of my nose. I mustered a full roundhouse swing, aiming wildly. My fist landed straight into Billy’s open mouth, which any good fighter would consider a mistake. Billy’s blood and three of his front teeth spewed out on to the gym floor. Billy fell straight back and hit his head on the way down. Billy was out like a light! I looked down at my throbbing hand, and my middle knuckle was cut deeply open, and there was a fourth tooth jammed into the joint. Coach Lou, who had witnessed the event while coming out of the locker room, yelled, Damnit, Steve, look at what you have done! Coach Lou was an intimidating figure, and when he threw a towel at me, I immediately started mopping up the blood. Coach and the rest of the gang tended to Billy.

Vice Principal Wells was one of the good old boys. He was raised in Portside, and an ample amount of the trophies in the trophy case were tied to him and his older brother. He was tall and thin, and his resting face was stern. He stared at me with his glasses low on his nose as he read my file like an MD. He muttered to himself as he perused my discipline history, which was, admittedly, thicker than I expected. I sat at attention awaiting my fate. He then spoke, I see you have impulse control issues. It also says here you have been kicked out of our talented and gifted program for not taking it seriously. You have a lot of potential as a leader. Please take the summer to decide what kind of leader you want to be. I will let your father take care of your discipline as he sees fit. My heart sank into my stomach. That will be all, Steve.

Yes, sir, I said respectfully, as I left his office into the foyer to await my fate.

My father arrived over an hour later. He was a man of few words when he was angered or, worse, embarrassed by his son. He proceeded to manhandle me into the family minivan, and a silent ride home ensued.

Back at the house, my mother was nursing my right hand while my father paced the house, muttering under his breath. That’s when the doorbell rang. My father went to the door and gazed out to see officers Bob Randall and Pete Lemmings standing on the front porch of our modest ranch-style home. As my father opened the door, I promptly hid behind the half wall separating our dining room from our living room, giving me a clear vantage point of the front door. My anonymity did not last long as the three of them headed for a seat in the living room. My father called out for me as I emerged from behind the wall like a Pop-Tart. My sister, Shannon, now officially a senior at PHS, emerged at the end of the hall with Andy in tow to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Pete sat upright with a serious intonation. This does not look good, Will. You know we have to ask Steve some questions about the fight at the high school today. Bob was a tall, lanky, middle-aged man, and Pete was a large and intimidating presence with bulges in all the wrong places. Both men were friends from high school and grew up together on the force.

I figured so. Steve will tell you the truth, if he wants to live to be a sophomore. He said it in my direction. My father smiled at Bob and Pete and shook their hands as they sat down on our worn leather couches. Bob was not his usual jovial self. My behavior had placed him in an awkward position with his good friend, and for that, the wrath of my father would be way worse than anything the law could ever do. Over the next several minutes, I told the story to the best of my recollection, downplaying the foul, of course. When I concluded, Pete lectured me about the seriousness of the assault, which, I found out later, caused Billy’s family to pay four thousand dollars in dental repair. Pete and Bob, however, concluded that since Billy both pushed me to the ground and took a swing at me prior to the rearrangement of his face, I had acted in self-defense. My story was corroboratedby the testimony of Mike and Brian. Roy and Denny’s account would turn out to be much different. With Roy’s prior juvenile record and Denny’s reputation of being a hothead, they were deemed not credible witnesses. I wondered whether my father’s friendship with Bob played a role in my fate. Unknown to me, Andy was filming the entire event with our family VHS recorder that had turned into his personal toy. He pepped up when my father asked if he had caught the whole ordeal on tape. Andy replied with his usual phrase, Uh, yup. I headed for my room, anticipating my consequence.

Pete and Bob maneuvered into their Ford patrol car backing out of Will’s driveway. What do you think, Pete? I don’t think this is the last time we will be talking to Will’s kid.

Agreed. He seems to be problematic dating all the way back to middle school. Let’s hope Steve can pull himself together long enough to get out of this miserable town. Pete liked to complain about Portside at every turn, which made him intolerable to his partner. I don’t even want to fathom what this kid could do behind the wheel of a car.

Let’s just pray we never have to find out, said Bob as he shook his head.

An hour later, I found myself in Brian’s dad’s private practice for the second time in four years with my mother and Andy. This was the first time I had seen Brian’s dad since his recent divorce, and I was feeling awkward. Andy, however, seemed particularly jovial as he giggled enthusiastically, staring at his sea lions. I found myself being checked out by Dr. Hall’s hot nurse, Angie, for the second time as well. The first time was the summer before my seventh-grade year. I had been taken to the doctor following the consumption of a self-made contaminated batch of Apple Jack that I had consumed with both Mike and Brian. It turned out that it contained far less alcohol than yeast, causing an infection in my southern region. On that trip, Angie had examined my privates with a gloved hand. I spent several months following and dreaming about her, and the end to that visit, that was nothing short of magical. This time, however, was not so eventful. She just acted irritated and lectured me about my stupidity. Dr. Hall did the same thing while removing Billy’s tooth from my knuckle, ending in three stitches. On the bright side, I caught a glimpse of Nurse Angie’s perfectly curved backside as she left the room. Memories.

While I was busy at Dr. Hall’s office, my father was busy buying the last of our trip supplies at the local Bi-Mart. On the way home, he had a hunkering for a fish fillet sandwich. He was a large man, and he was not known to ignore his hunger. He swerved the family van recklessly into our local McDonald’s to satisfy his urge. He decided to eat inside instead of trying to eat and drive, which always left a stain on his shirt or pants. A curly-haired, pimple-faced young man had taken his order, and that was when something caught Will’s eye. On the wall to the right of him was a display of a giant Monopoly board game. As he peered closer, he noticed that each Monopoly block had a grand prize. For example, if you collected the powder blue block, you would win a free fish fillet. Will took notice of that, and he peered closer at the board. Then he saw it: Boardwalk and Park Place. The grand prize for pairing the two was one million dollars. Will turned to the lad who had taken his order and inquired about the game. He was handed a fold-up shiny paper Monopoly board. You get three tickets for that sandwich you just bought, sir.

Will took the tickets as he dismissed the young man with a wave of his hand as he liked to do when he did not want to bother with someone. Will took the tickets to his table and peeled one back. Inside was a sticker to place on his Monopoly board. He glanced quickly and sat down. He then read the sticker, Mediterranean Avenue. This property was the absolute lowest property on the board, and if you were lucky enough to get Baltic Avenue to go along its side, you would win a free small fry. This did not satisfy my father in the least bit, but he still picked up his second ticket while inhaling his fish sandwich. The second ticket was not a property at all. He had received a Chance card. Apparently, this card entitled him to three additional tickets upon his next purchase. Will, again, was not overjoyed, but he placed the Chance card carefully in his wallet as to not damage it. The last ticket was in his fingers. Will began to sweat as he tried to peel back the paper, and in the process, the ticket ripped slightly but, for the most part, stayed intact. My father peeked at the sticker and read Park Place. Will swung around in his seat and scanned the room to see if anyone was watching, like he had just committed a crime. When the coast was clear, he attached his Park Place sticker to his board. He pleated it neatly and slid it into his windbreaker. He walked out at a fast pace, leaving his wrapper behind. Will was one ticket shy of being a millionaire!

The next day, my father had taken to loading the van for our trip across the good old US of A. My father would turn increasingly agitated as he packed the van, which looked like a giant white egg on wheels. He groaned like a wildebeest about how much my sister had packed and the growing lack of space. Both my sister, my mother, and I knew the signs, and we stayed well away from my father, trying to avoid his madness. Andy, however, was still talking to Bob and Pete, the puppets. I assumed the conversation was about my near arrest. Andy had taken to leaving notes around the house in public display that read, Steve ur going to Jail. Luv Andy.

This was a change of pace to the random notes he had been leaving about Shannon and her short-lived boyfriend, which read, Shannon kiss Kenny. Luv Andy

Finally, my father announced in a jovial voice that he was ready to leave and that we had approximately one minute to load into the Venture Van. Shannon and I got the middle seats. Andy, Bob, and Pete squeezed into the back seat between suitcases. In his hands he held our VCR camera. As my father backed out of the driveway, Andy began to film Will while Bob and Pete sat in his lap. Andy giggled in delight as he took his first recording of our family’s notorious trip. We drove about ten miles north on the highway, and the van decelerated due to traffic caused by tourists stopping to see the sea lions at the world’s largest sea cave. Much to my father’s consternation, that was when Andy uttered a phrase that I will never forget, Are we there yet?

Chapter 2

Marine Biology

Two weeks prior to the departure of our family vacation, I had decided to apply for a job at Sea Lion Caves. I had grown tired of my father’s expanding frugal nature. He would lecture me about turning the light off when I would leave a room and decree how much toilet paper was acceptable in one sitting, and the topic of new clothes would make him pucker up as tight as my year-old jeans. My mother, on the other hand, had taken on a new hobby of sewing and knitting to solve the squabble between my father and me over needed clothes. Last winter, she knitted me two sweaters that looked girly in nature; one was beige and the other was yellow. They were too big in the torso and too short in the arms. I would put them on when I left for school and then stuff them in my backpack while riding my bike to class. They looked like a cross between something you would find in Mr. Roger’s neighborhood and something my grandma Baron would wear to church. I had spent the better part of winter freezing to death until I finally gave in and stole a blue Nike sweatshirt from the lost and found.

More recently, I had been eyeing a couple of Ocean Pacific, Hawaiian board shorts for the summer. My father had taken to cutting my old jeans above the knee as his alternative to the problem, giving me a hippie-type vibe. The final straw was when my mother decided to hand sew me some Hawaiian shorts. They were made of a flimsy material which featured loud neon-colored flowers; the stitching looked cheap, and they were held up by a thick white rope. I had to tie them tight in order to keep them from falling, and they left a red ring around my waist while cutting off my circulation. My mother would say God had provide for my needs, and I assumed God must have a sick sense of humor. In addition, I had found myself coveting after the upperclassmen and their shiny vehicles. My goal was to make enough money to replace my wardrobe, buy a car, and have enough money to drive to the 7-Eleven during my lunch periods with Mike and Brian.

I was interviewed by Todd Walker, who was the manager of the Caves and just happened to be the dad of Kenny Walker, my sister’s short-lived boyfriend. Also in the interview was Mr. Gullman, my middle-school shop teacher and my assistant high school football coach. He served as the assistant manager at the Caves in the summer months. Both shook my hand with a smile, and both were wearing golf polos with the Caves’ insignia prominent on their chest. Mr. Gullman, like most of my teachers, preferred my brother Andy. Andy and he had started the Armpit Club in middle school. To join, you had to have armpit hair. Girls shaved and were naturally not allowed in the club, which he would hold over Shannon’s head. They had a salute that involved raising their arm to reveal their tuft or hair as they passed one another in the hall. The club soon grew in number.

At the end of my interview, Todd, who looked like he could have been a nerd in high school, stopped me and said, Steve, can you start immediately following your family vacation?

Yes, sir, that sounds great. I shook their hands, and then I went to the parking lot to tell my father, who was slumbering in the Venture Van. Todd had given me a book that told about the history of the Caves, the sea lions, local seabirds, and some noteworthy facts about the history of their business, which was privately owned. My assignment was to read the book cover to cover and memorize as much as possible during our vacation prior to starting the job.

It was the day after we returned from our family vacation, and my sister drove me to Sea Lion Caves on my first day of work. On the second day of driving cross-country, I realized I had left my book that Todd had given me to memorize at our house. In addition, I had forgotten to read it when I arrived back home. I figured that it would be no big deal. How many people would stop and ask me questions anyway? When I arrived, Mr. Gullman greeted me with