What I did over the summer

[bretf]

I recently completed another round of editing in the Smoke Saga – Ashen Horse series. To try to clear my mind of it and have a fresh perspective when I pick it up again, I started something new. Here is the first chapter.

I’ve had a tough time fitting writing into my schedule but I’ll try hard to do regular posts.



WHAT I DID OVER THE SUMMER


Chapter 1



Brian Anderson stepped slowly down the school bus steps, pausing on the final step. He was nervous and excited at the same time. The first day in middle school! He wasn’t a little grade school kid anymore. He’d made it to the semi-big league and hoped to make the most of it. But looking at all the other kids standing around gave him an uneasy feeling. It was a sea of strangers.



Four elementary schools fed his middle school so he wouldn’t know three out of four kids. Did they already have opinions, good or bad, of kids from his school? Also, he was back at the bottom, the lowest of the low.



The past year, he’d been at the pinnacle, The Kings of the Mountain. Some of the boys had claimed they ruled the school but he knew different. The teachers still ruled, even though they let a few get away with more than they should have. But it was in the past and he was at the bottom looking up.



He was nudged from behind and stumbled out of the bus right into Jennifer Dotson. Several kids laughed and his face turned red. It wasn’t exactly the grand entrance he’d wanted to make on his first day. Mumbling an apology to Jennifer, he stepped several feet away as fast as he could.



The school bus behind the one he’d ridden was spewing out its load of kids and he heard a familiar voice in the throng. “Hey Bri-man, making a move on Jennifer, huh? You need to work on your technique, dude. That wasn’t very subtle.”



More kids turned to look at Brian and his face got redder if it was possible. The first day, and he was already getting looked and laughed at for the wrong reasons. So much for his aspirations as a middle schooler.



Jackson White sauntered over, a huge smile plastered on his face. He was a perpetual goof and made a lot out of his name. “Jack White, you know, the albino Jack Black.” He was also one of Brian’s best friends.



“Bri-man, geez, you’re here,” Jack said. “I wasn’t sure if you would be since you haven’t answered a phone or text all summer. I didn’t know if you’d died or were pissed at me, or what. Your parents wouldn’t tell me anything, only that you were unavailable.”



“Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” Brian said quietly, looking all around. “I was, uh, out of town and just got back last night.”



“Yeah, where were you? Somewhere cool?” Jackson asked.



“No, man, in neither definition of the word. It was totally uncool, hot, and humid,” Brian said. “But anyway, I can’t talk about it.”



“Can’t or won’t?” Jackson asked. “It sounds like you’re embarrassed or something. Geez, dude, it wasn’t that camp for math nerds was it?”



“No, and just because I’m good at math doesn’t mean I’m a nerd. But really, I CAN’T talk about it,” Brian said, again looking around nervously.



“Wow, dude. And I thought we were buds. I’ll tell you anything,” Jackson said



“We are buds, but really, I can’t say a word,” Brian whined.



Jackson stared at him and was opening his mouth to speak when two more boys joined them. “Jackson Brown,” Tommy Murphy said, slugging Jackson on the upper arm.



“Brian, the Lost,” the other, Mike Larson said, popping Brian in his arm.



“It’s White, not Brown, you imbecile, you know, the albino J—”



“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Tommy said interrupting. “But you just aren’t that funny. If you’re going to copy someone, you’re more like Jackson Brown.”



“Dude, his music is so lame and tame,” Jackson said.



“Yeah, but your dad loves it.”



“See, you just made my point.”



“So,” Mike said, changing the subject, “do you think the eighth graders will shake us down for our lunch money?”



“Yeah,” Tommy said. “we went over to your house, Brian, when you’d never respond on the phone and Billy told us all about it.”



Brian grimaced and said, “My brother was probably the worst of the bunch. I don’t doubt for a minute he took money from the younger kids. He always seems to have money for the latest Xbox games.”



“Maybe it’ll happen to him now that he’s in high school,” Jackson said.



“I don’t know,” Brian said. “But if it does happen, he’ll just try to get all of my money to make up for it.”



Tommy grinned and said, “Ya know, with a brother like Billy, I’m glad I only have sisters.”



Mike said, “So anyway, Billy wouldn’t tell us where you were or what you were up to. Where were you all summer, man?”



“Uh, well, I’m not allowed to say,” Brian said.



“Oh, come on, man, we’re your friends. You can tell us. If it’s such a secret, we won’t tell anybody else,” Tommy said.



He looked all around nervously. “Well, I was—”



Brian had never been so relieved to hear the first school bell ring, signaling the students to proceed to their homerooms. “Sorry, guys. Gotta go to class.” He hurried towards the school’s entrance, leaving his friends looking at him, confused.

[freebirde]

Boy, Oh Boy!!! Start out with a cliff. Looks like a wild ride and I am looking forward to it.

[sniper69]

A new story! Sweet! Looking forward to reading more of your great work!

[NCWEBNUT]

Sounds like he was going to tell something he really shouldn't, saved by the bell, and dang cliff hanger.

[9idrr]

Thanks for the good start. I think I'm likin' this one already. Always glad to see more from you, sir.

[texican]

Bret,

A new story....

Boy secrets are always stunning....

Now just what is Brian refusing to talk about.... Must be something to make a 8th grader keep his mouth shut....

Now will another chapter reveal....

Texican....

[solo]

It is always great to read your work!  

It is never to young to teach and reinforce OPSEC!

Can't wait for more.  Well, I guess I kinda have to and all but you get my jist...  I hope.  

- SOLO

[arkansascob]

So looking forward to this story. Always enjoy your writings bretf.

Thanks for starting another one.


COB

[bretf]

Thank you all for the warm reception. I appreciate it very much!



Chapter 2



Brian got inside the crowded foyer and looked all around. He had no idea which way to go. The class schedule he’d been emailed didn’t help. It told him the room number and the class title, ‘Room 116 – Homeroom - English’ but had no indication of where it was. Do I have to go past one hundred-fifteen rooms to find my class? This building doesn’t look that big, he thought as he studied the foyer and halls leading away from it. He saw a man in a dress shirt and tie and threaded his way through the throng to him.



“Can you help me find this classroom?” Brian asked, thrusting the paper out to him.



“That’s why I’m here, young man,” Tie-Man said. He looked at the paper and said, “Okay, take the hall on the right,” and pointed to make sure Brian knew which one. All too often, kids didn’t know right from left. Or right from wrong for that matter. “The offices and restrooms are the first rooms. The classrooms are beyond them. Room 116 is the third classroom on the left.”



“Thank you, sir,” Brian said and worked through the throng to reach the right hall. Whew, they must’ve started numbering at one hundred. That’s goofy. I hope I don’t get the teacher who dreamed that up.



An ancient woman was standing at the appropriate door. Brian was sure his grandmother was younger. It was a good thing she wasn’t the history teacher. She would probably go on and on just covering her life span. She had to be at least sixty.



“Find your name on the seating chart,” she said pointing at the paper taped on the door, “and take your seat.”



Brian did as instructed and looked around. Strangers. He was surrounded by strangers. A few kids he knew were in the room and more came in, including Jennifer Dotson. He looked down at his class schedule as if it was the most interesting paper in the world. There was no way he could look Jennifer in the face, not after the incident at the bus.



The tardy bell rang and the teacher pulled the door closed. She walked to the front of the class and said, “Good morning children. Please check your schedules and confirm you are in the right class. This is room 116, Homeroom and English. My name is Mrs. Bird.” She turned and wrote the same information on the whiteboard.



Cursive? The old Bird uses cursive? Brian thought silently as he did as he was instructed, even though he was already sure he was in the right place. My name is on the seating chart, DUH. He looked up as the door opened and a kid entered, located the teacher and said, “Sorry I’m late. I went to the wrong room. You know, they should change the font they use on these things.” He waved his class schedule. “The six looks like a nine on mine.”



“I see,” Mrs. Bird said. “Well, find your name on the seating chart on the door. Thankfully, there are neither sixes nor nines.”



The comment would’ve had Brian cringing or turning red. Late-Kid just smiled.



As Late-Kid settled into his seat, right beside Brian’s, static burst from a speaker mounted in the wall. “Good morning, and welcome to the first day at Roosevelt Middle School. We will begin by reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. Please stand and face the flag. I pledge allegiance . . .”



Late-Kid glanced at Brian and said, “My name’s Sam. And you are?”



Brian didn’t answer. The Pledge was more important than ever. He would do all he could to show he was a good citizen.



“Psst,” Late-Kid-Sam said much too loud, gaining the attention of Mrs. Bird.



Brian was aghast when she included him in the look she shot Late-Kid-Sam. He faltered on the pledge before Mrs. Bird’s gaze returned to the flag.



When the pledge ended, he shot his own cross look. “Brian,” he snapped.



“Good to meet you,” Late-Kid-Sam said as the morning announcements began spewing from the speaker.



He didn’t seem to know how to talk in a soft voice. His comment drew the stink-eye from Mrs. Bird. Wow, I stumble into Jennifer and now I’m branded as trouble by Mrs. Bird. Maybe I’d of been better off not showing up. If this keeps up, they might ship me back, he thought and shuddered. He didn’t want to go back there ever again.



The day had hardly begun and it was all bad; not at all how he wanted to begin the sixth grade. And to think he’d anticipated getting back to school after the lost summer.



The announcements finished and Brian couldn’t have told what any of them were. He cringed when Mrs. Bird stood up and looked at the class, pausing on him and Late-Kid-Sam. “All right, children. As I said prior to announcements, this is Sixth Grade English and I am Mrs. Bird. We are going to start the term with each of you writing a paper titled “What I Did Over the Summer.”



There were groans around the classroom and Late-Kid-Sam said, “Wait, the term ‘children’ and that assignment is so grade school.”



Geez, this kid doesn’t have volume control or a filter for his mouth, Brian thought, even though he’d had the same thoughts. I wonder if I can get another seat.



Mrs. Bird shot Unfiltered-Late-Kid-Sam the stink-eye, giving a shot of it at Brian as well. What, can she read minds? he wondered.



Mrs. Bird looked at the seating chart and addressed U-L-K-S. “I am not asking for your approval, Samuel,” she said.



“Just Sam, Ma’am,” he said. “Samuel is too formal.”



“You have to earn privileges in my classroom, Samuel,” she said stressing his name. “And you are not off to a good start. What about you, Brian Anderson?” she asked, stressing his last name. “Do you have something to add?”



“Uh, uhm, no Ma’am,” he stammered.



“Good,” she stated. “Now, as I was saying, you are each to write a paper, and to address Samuel’s concern,” again the stress on his name, “I will be looking for something different than your elementary teachers did. I will use the paper to ascertain how well each of you grasps the use of the English language in writing. You will have the rest of the period today to work on your paper. I expect silence while you are writing.” Again, the stink-eye landed on U-L-K-S and Brian. “However, I am open to questions and assistance if you have the need. I will not write your paper for you, but I will advise you if you have difficulty. If so, please raise your hand, and when I point to you, you may approach my desk. We can talk there with less disruption to your neighbors.” Again, the stink-eye to U-L-K-S and Brian.



Brian shrank lower in his seat. This is a disaster! He thought.

“We will begin oral presentations of your paper next Monday. That will give you time to finish your paper and edit it before turning it in. Does anyone have questions?” she asked.



Brian didn’t hear any of the questions or Mrs. Bird’s answers. His mind was spinning like Mom’s wash machine drum. What am I gonna do, what can I do? ran through his mind on spin cycle.

[brucearmstrong65]

Great story so far!

The only problem is you've got me flashing back to 7th grade (1976). I'll be hiding under the football bleachers until you post moar.

[freebirde]

Reminds me of something from a SF story, "So secret I can't even tell myself".

[NCWEBNUT]

Now I'm really curious as what he done over the summer

[udwe]

I'm curious also!

[9idrr]

This has the potential to be a really loooong story. I hope, I hope, I hope.

[texican]

"What Did I Do Over the Summer."

Slept late, ate a lot, played video games, watched TV, staid up late and then did it all over again the next day....

Thanks Bret for the chapter....

Is this a self portrait story....

Texican....

[bretf]

Freebirde, thanks for taking the ride with Brian. Roll down the windows and kick back. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it. The secret – I think he can tell himself but prefers not to.


Sniper69 & 9idrr, thank you. I’ll try not to disappoint.


NCWEBNUT: “saved by the bell” Don’t you hate that, just when he was set to spill the beans. Now there’s no telling how long before he’ll be ready to fess up.



Texican, Are you sure boy’s secrets can be stunning? I hope you’re right since I can’t remember what I might’ve kept secret back then.


Solo, thanks. Good point about OPSEC. Hang on, more coming as soon as I can.



Arkansascob, thanks, always appreciated. “Thanks for starting another one.” Actually, this one was started in a different form while I was working on the first draft of Chad’s story. I spent a couple of days on the idea to make sure I had my thoughts stored (they get away if I don’t keep a backup nowadays.) Then it was back to Chad for several years.







Bruce, now you’ve got me thinking about Jr. High School. I knew a guy back then who liked to hang out under the bleachers too. His name was Seymour Butts.


NCWEBNUT, udwe: be careful. Curiosity killed the cat. But if you really want to know, I’ll tell you . . . eventually.


9idrr: This one won’t be too long. But since it won’t be, how about I go longer between posts. That’ll make it seem longer, won’t it?


Texican, was that your summer? If so, I feel sorry for you. I couldn’t do much while healing from back surgery and it was the LONGEST summer of my life. I’ll take early morning and outside activities most days over the games and TV. No self-portrait, however, it was inspired by an actual event. When we reach that point of the story, I’ll tell a bit about it.

[9idrr]

"9idrr: This one won’t be too long. But since it won’t be, how about I go longer between posts. That’ll make it seem longer, won’t it?"

One of those guys, huh?

[papaof2]

Oct 31, 2019 18:03:09 GMT -6 9idrr said:

"9idrr: This one won’t be too long. But since it won’t be, how about I go longer between posts. That’ll make it seem longer, won’t it?"

One of those guys, huh?

What you get if you complain to the dentist that he's getting a lot of $$ by the minute when he pulls a tooth.
His answer would be "If you prefer, I can pull it v-e-r-y slowly."

[texican]

Bret,

now you’ve got me thinking about Jr. High School. I knew a guy back then who liked to hang out under the bleachers too. His name was Seymour Butts.

Is your young teenage life is leaking over into adulthood....  Appears so....

Now you could put all of this to bed by posting the next chapter letting us read about what Brian really did on vacation....

Now, for my summers, worked most of them for family and did a little fooling around....  Had an aunt that blamed me for all of the trouble that my cousin got in even when I wasn't there, but we never go caught when I drove....

Which brings up an old axiom....

The difference between a good boy and a bad boy....

The good boy never got caught....

Texican....

A good boy....

[papaof2]

Oct 31, 2019 20:41:53 GMT -6 texican said:

Bret,

now you’ve got me thinking about Jr. High School. I knew a guy back then who liked to hang out under the bleachers too. His name was Seymour Butts.

Is your young teenage life is leaking over into adulthood....  Appears so....

Now you could put all of this to bed by posting the next chapter letting us read about what Brian really did on vacation....

Now, for my summers, worked most of them for family and did a little fooling around....  Had an aunt that blamed me for all of the trouble that my cousin got in even when I wasn't there, but we never go caught when I drove....

Which brings up an old axiom....

The difference between a good boy and a bad boy....

The good boy never got caught....

Texican....

A good boy....

There was a series of books like that.

"Life Under the Grandstand" - Seymour Butts

"30 Yards to the Outhouse" - Willie Makit

How many of the others do you remember?

[bretf]

Oct 31, 2019 21:00:08 GMT -6 papaof2 said:

Oct 31, 2019 20:41:53 GMT -6 texican said:

Bret,

now you’ve got me thinking about Jr. High School. I knew a guy back then who liked to hang out under the bleachers too. His name was Seymour Butts.

Is your young teenage life is leaking over into adulthood....  Appears so....

Now you could put all of this to bed by posting the next chapter letting us read about what Brian really did on vacation....

Now, for my summers, worked most of them for family and did a little fooling around....  Had an aunt that blamed me for all of the trouble that my cousin got in even when I wasn't there, but we never go caught when I drove....

Which brings up an old axiom....

The difference between a good boy and a bad boy....

The good boy never got caught....

Texican....

A good boy....

There was a series of books like that.

"Life Under the Grandstand" - Seymour Butts

"30 Yards to the Outhouse" - Willie Makit

How many of the others do you remember?



I can remember two more of them:



30 Yard Dash to the Outhouse, co-writer Betty Wont



Yellow Snow, by I.P. Freelie

[bretf]

Oct 31, 2019 20:41:53 GMT -6 texican said:

Bret,

now you’ve got me thinking about Jr. High School. I knew a guy back then who liked to hang out under the bleachers too. His name was Seymour Butts.

Is your young teenage life is leaking over into adulthood....  Appears so....

Now you could put all of this to bed by posting the next chapter letting us read about what Brian really did on vacation....

Now, for my summers, worked most of them for family and did a little fooling around....  Had an aunt that blamed me for all of the trouble that my cousin got in even when I wasn't there, but we never go caught when I drove....

Which brings up an old axiom....

The difference between a good boy and a bad boy....

The good boy never got caught....

Texican....

A good boy....

No, not my youth.

During that stage of life, each morning I got to weed a row in the garden.

Dad was doing custom haying then. Most afternoons, I was on the 8N Ford pulling the side delivery rake through fields. He also had quite a bunch of cows. He would do a lot of the hay on shares, receiving half for our labor. Lots of afternoons and evenings were spent bucking bales. Many nights we drug in at ten o: clock for supper and a shower.

Even though I was too young, Dad often had me drive the pickup to different places to drop him off or pick him up. I was pretty small for my age and my parents were always worried I was going to get pulled over. I drove the backroads as much as possible, but still. As soon as I was 14, Mom got me into summer school drivers’ ed.

If I wasn’t on the tractor, I still had to take care of the chickens. Depending on which of us was around, my brother or I got evening cow milking duty.

If we weren’t in the fields, by brother and I spent as much time as possible fishing.

I did get goof –off time, hanging out with the neighbor kids. We’d swim in the canals (forbidden now by the irrigation company) or the river. We’d bicycle and liberate overbearing apple trees of their excess weight. But as you say, we were “good kids”.

[bretf]

Chapter 3



The only sounds around Brian were pens and pencils scratching over paper. He stared at the blank page in front of him, unable to touch his pen to it. In elementary school, he’d often thought going to school each day was like going to prison. Boy was I a dumb kid, he thought. School is nothing like prison.



Feeling a presence beside him, he looked up. Mrs. Bird was perched over his shoulder looking at his blank page. She motioned him to follow to her desk.



Sighing, Brian stood up. With his head down and slumped shoulders, he shuffled after her.



“I haven’t seen you writing anything. Is there a problem?” Mrs. Bird asked. “Are you embarrassed; afraid your experiences won’t match up with your classmates?”



“Uh, no, Ma’am. It’s uh, nothing like that,” Brian stammered.



“So, what is it, Mr. Anderson?”



Again, the stress on his last name. He didn’t respond.



“I recall another student I had with the last name of Anderson. You bear a striking resemblance to him.”



Brian blanched. No, not Billy! So that’s why she doesn’t like me. I’m not like him, I swear!



“What happened over the summer is a secret. I’m not supposed to tell a soul,” he said.



“I see,” Mrs. Bird said shaking her head.



Man, she really does look like a bird, Brian thought. And I’m the worm.



She continued speaking, “As I remember, Billy, and I’m making the assumption he is your brother, displayed an incredible lack of motivation. I believe the term ‘slacker’ is applied to people like him nowadays. So, tell me, Mr. Anderson, if you aren’t embarrassed about your summer, is there another reason you aren’t working on the assignment? I didn’t receive any notice that you need special assistance with writing and reading.” She stared over the horn-rimmed spectacles perched on her beak of a nose and spoke slowly. “Or are you just like your brother, a slacker?”



Brian shrank under the stare. For years, he’d been trying to prove he wasn’t anything like Billy. He turned away from Mrs. Bird’s predatory gaze. Jennifer had stopped writing and was watching the exchange. The finest looking girl in school, and nice too, and she was going to think he was a slacker or worse depending on what he did next. He could be ‘just like his loser brother’ or locked away for life. It was definitely not the way he’d wanted to start middle school.



“I’m not a slacker! I’m nothing like Billy,” Brian stated, his mind made up.



He turned and headed back to his desk, imagining the sound as the cell door closed behind him.



Agent Roberts’ parting words echoed in his head. “You may have pulled the wool over the eyes of those naïve fools in Washington but not mine. You’re bad and I know it. But they’re in charge and I have to follow orders. However, I will be watching you, waiting for you to step out of line.



“Since the entire event has been deemed ‘Classified’, I’ll be listening as well. If either of you breathe a word, one single word, I’ll have you thrown back in that God-forsaken hole so fast it’ll make you head spin. Take one step out of line, whisper a single word, and you’ll be a memory. You’ll vanish so fast people will wonder if you ever existed. Mark my words, I’ll know!”



He sighed heavily and shook the voice from his head. Picking up his pen, he poised it over the blank paper. A quick glance showed Jennifer was still watching. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, then opened them and started writing.



“What I Did Over the Summer, by Brian Anderson.”



He looked around the room, trying to imprint it in his mind. How many days did he have before he’d never see it again?

[9idrr]

I somehow get the feeling that Agent Roberts is gonna regret his interactions with young Mr. Anderson.
Then again, I could be wrong. I've had plenty of experience at that.

[texican]

He looked around the room, trying to imprint it in his mind. How many days did he have before he’d never see it again?

Seems like Brian got involved with the feds and will be looking over his shoulders forever....

Now just what did Brian do over his summer....

Will we ever learn....

Only Bret knows....

Thanks Bret for the chapter....