Senior Prank (9781620957295) (15 page)

He read, “The Pentagon announced today the formation of a new 500 man elite fightin' force called the Redneck Special Forces. These special soldiers from the south will be dropped off in Afghanistan and given only these five facts about terrorists. One the season opened today. Two there is no limit. Three they taste like chicken. Four they don't like beer, pick up trucks, country music or Jesus. Fifth they are responsible for the death of Dale Earnhardt, Sr. The Pentagon expects the war to be over in a week.”

The place busted out with a huge laugh, but Winston and Aaron's parents weren't amused. Winston said in a low voice directed towards Aaron, ‘That's enough Aaron, move on. That's not what we expect out of you.”

Then Aaron spoke again. “I can't bleeve we are about to grad-u-ma-tate. Wow, over four hunred and fiddy of us. Now we are at the senior banquet honorin' some good ol' cowboys and cowgirls. We tarred of studying; we got our ed-u-ma-ca-shun.”

Winston had enough. He jumped up, pulled Aaron aside and said, “That's enough. Aaron you need to act as though you are the class president.” The last sentence made it over the speakers so everyone heard it.

“Ya, you need to quit makin' fun of rednecks or I'll come up der right now and whup your butt,” yelled Billy Bob Nelson, one of the seniors in attendance. “That young man ain't half the study thinks he is. Your daddy didn't teach ya any manners, ditty?”

“Look, your engines running but there ain't nobody drivin'?” Aaron shot back.

“You're so dumb you took a fishin' pole to Sea World,” Aaron added.

Billy Bob got up and headed towards Aaron. “I ain't takin' this no more. Let's settle this now.” He was stopped by a few teachers, who suddenly realized this was no act. It was a serious argument, a potentially explosive one. Worse yet, they knew Billy Bob would beat the boy like a rented mule, something nobody wanted to witness.

Aaron's mother ran to him and pulled him away from the microphone and said, “Mr. Winston, I'll take care of Aaron; go on without him.” Winston got to the microphone and said, “Now let's welcome Melody Ryden, senior class vice president who will take over.” She came to the microphone. Aaron's mother took him to the food preparation area behind the stage.

“Aaron what's wrong with you?” she asked. “I've never seen you act like that.”

“I want go kick that redneck's butt,” he answered. “He's an ignerent boy. I'll teach him.” Just then Elvis wandered over and said, “What's wrong? Is he sick?” to Aaron's mother. Inside he was getting a charge from the reaction of the potion.

“You watch him, don't let him go anywhere while I get him a Coke,” she directed to Elvis. “Maybe that will settle him down.”

Aaron tried to get up, but Elvis pushed him down, saying, “You heard your mom, stay here. Don't leave.” His mother returned shortly and gave him the drink. Every 30 seconds Aaron would get up and Elvis would push him back down. Finally, after 10 minutes had passed Aaron looked up and said, “Mom, what am I doing here? I am supposed to be out there running the senior banquet.”

“But you are in no condition to do such,” his mom answered. “You're acting like a fool. You embarrassed yourself, your family and even your classmates.”

“How did I do that?” he shot back. “I don't remember anything about speaking. I only remember getting here and now sitting here. When can I go out there and do what I am supposed to do?”

“I don't think it's a good idea,” his mother said. “Let's just wait here.”

“Ms. Ryan, I think he's okay now,” Elvis told her. “He's the class president so he should be out there. I don't think he will be any further trouble.”

The show went on without him. Melody had done a number of awards, most athletic, best couple, best dressed, smartest and most school spirit. Then, Aaron walked back out to the podium and looked at the crowd, who seemed shocked at the image he had presented. Winston stood up, greeted him and asked him to sit down, not wanting to add any further damage to the night.

“Melody is doing a fine job,” Winston said. “Let her continue. You just relax.”

Melody then awarded the best personality award. When the name of Aaron Ryan was called, the place gasped in state of shock. Winston put his head in his hands. Aaron walked to the podium, took his plaque and said, “Thank you. This means a lot coming from my fellow graduates. Somebody told me I had spoken earlier. I wish I could remember what I said.” He then sat down. Everyone was wondering what was going on.

Next Melody read the name for the class clown. She said, “Elvis McGraw.”

Elvis, who was in the back putting the finishing touches on desserts, quickly dashed toward the stage, in the process grabbing a chef's hat that was sitting on the counter. He put it on to go with his apron. He went to the stage and said, “Thank you, thank you very much. Now I am zee chef. I am goin' to cooks you up a beautiful dessert.” He blew kisses to the crowd and returned to his preparation.

The awards continued until the final one, the most likely to succeed. “Mohammed Albani,” Melody said to the shock of most. G may have felt disrespected at times, but at this moment he was overwhelmed. He was respected for his efforts.

He went to the podium, said “Thank you, I am honored,” and sat down, crying.

The banquet ended with no further disruptions. As people left the talk was still of the behavior of Aaron Ryan. Winston ducked any controversy, simply saying, “Boys will be boys. No big deal. Let's move on.”

Elvis was having fun decorating cupcakes. He gave one to Jose with the outline a penis on top, saying, “I did this one specially for you.” His cupcake for Lamont had an outline for a pair of testicles. “You got the other half,” Elvis told Lamont.

With two weeks left in the school year attention among the seniors turned to final exams, future plans, and the excitement of the last days of their high school careers.

Lamont was the team's track star with G not far behind. Lamont won the district and regional track meets in the 200 meter run, placed third in the 100, and was the anchor of the winning 4 x 100 meter relay team. Lamont even won points for the team as a long jumper. Along with G, a few standout distance runners and a high placing shot put and discus thrower, the team won the two meets, and was a favorite to win the state title. That meet would be next Saturday, six days before graduation.

Jose turned in his term paper to Ms. Blossom. She was impressed, saying, “Jose you outdid yourself.” Even so, he knew he needed at least a C on the final exam for a C grade for the year. Missy and Elvis helped him complete the final exam study guide. Elvis told him, “Look these guides are just like the tests. If you know the answers, you'll do fine on the test. Study this until you know it in your sleep. You ain't got to learn everything in the book…just what's on those six pages of the study guide.”

Missy and Elvis grilled him constantly for the answers. He complained they were being too tough on him. “Let me tell you about high school,” Elvis told him. “Most of the time the teachers tell you what you need to know for the tests. If you listen and learn that stuff you'll do fine in school. That's how I learned to get by. Eighty per-cent of the stuff I forget two days after the test, but I remember it for the one time and move on.”

Jose took the test and scored an 84, a B. He now could graduate. He was so proud he asked Ms. Blossom if he could have the test.

“I can't,” she told him. “It's school property, but I can make a copy of the answer sheet and sign it.” She did, writing, “Congratulations, Jose, you did it. Good luck.”

He showed everyone, including his and Missy's parents. To him it was like the Vince Lombardi trophy. The score also made his term paper points irrelevant, although it helped bring his final grade to a solid C+.

Exams ended one week before their Friday graduation. All that remained was the senior field day, yearbook signing party, the senior send off, graduation day practice and the graduation ceremony, and the senior class would be done for the school year.

Saturday was just another work day for Jose. Helping his father with the bricklaying job had provided money to keep his car running and for gifts and events with Missy. The Mexican kid had worked his way up her personal preference order.

Elvis's band was playing another weekend set, bringing in more money. Elvis thought now about a new car, as his Jeep was nearing its end. The vehicle was becoming a money pit.

But for Lamont it was the last race of his high school career and chance to go out a champion. It might also be his last chance to earn that scholarship. For Potts, the state meet meant more than usual. It was his chance to go out a champion. He was retiring, win or lose.

For Winston, it was a chance to put an end to another exciting school year. It had started with the school's nomination for an All American School, and had its ups and downs through the year. With one week to go, retirement had now moved to the front of his mind, although he said nothing, refusing to call attention to himself. He went home that night, took his wife out to dinner and came home and watched
Law and Order
. This time he didn't fall asleep and successfully figured out who committed the murder on the show. This time he ate his ice cream cone, caramel core and all, then went to bed. He slept like a contented baby.

In six days, his school would graduate 450 into the real world. He could see the light at the end of the tunnel, no longer an approaching train, but rather the end of this year's journey. The finish line seemed to be on lots of minds that weekend.

After the second heat of the 100 yard dash ended Potts checked the times. His two runners in the race had qualified for the eight man final thanks to their times in the qualifying heats. G finished third, Lamont sixth. Potts then checked the team scores. His team trailed Kennedale High School of Arlington by one point. All that remained in the state meet were the pole vault, triple jump and the grand finale, the 100 meter dash. After the 100, he would know if the team won or finished second.

Potts knew that no other team could catch Kennedale or Thomas Jefferson. The state champ was going to be one or the other. Potts gathered his eight team members who had qualified for the state meet and told them, “Gentlemen, it comes down to one race. We've got to have our two runners finish ahead of their last runner if we want to be state champs. We've got about forty five minutes for the race. Just stay loose and be ready to run. You can do this.”

Lamont was still on cloud nine. He had won the 200 meter race and anchored the winning 4 X 100 meter relay team. Other team members had placed high enough to earn the team least a second place finish, but they were hopeful of getting Mr. Potts his championship. Lamont watched as G lay on the ground, relaxing, hat over his face, as though it was time for an afternoon siesta. Lamont was using the bathroom every five minutes, pacing back and forth, his nervousness overtaking him.

Approaching G he asked, “How can you be so calm at a time like this? I'm a nervous wreck. What do you do to prepare for a race like this?”

“First thing I do is think of a Whopper,” he answered. “A big delicious Burger King Whopper.”

“A Whopper.”

“When I get into the starting blocks I think of a Whopper waiting at the finish line.”

“Why a Whopper?”

“Because it is my favorite meal,” Muhammed stated. “I also think of the hungry dog story my father told me.”

“Hungry dogs and Whoppers, a strange combination,” Lamont said.

“Here's the whole story,” G started. “When my father was young in Saudi Arabia, his family was poor. He used to race neighborhood kids for food. He was fast so he won a lot. He told me the hungry dog hunts best. He said it's why he won so much. When he got a chance to get an education in America, he took it. He realized education was his ticket out of poverty. Today, we're not poor thanks to that education. I've been blessed with some of his speed. Each race I envision the hungry dog and running to get that Whopper.”

“Wow, that makes sense now,” Lamont said, shaking his head for emphasis.

“What's your favorite meal?” G asked. “Run for it.”

“I like lots of food, but the Subway meatball sub is probably my favorite,” answered Lamont. “I'll try that approach today.”

Finally, the runners for the final race were called to the starting blocks. G was in the third lane, Lamont in the sixth with the two Kennedale runners between them. The gun sounded and the runners took off. After 50 meters, the midpoint, G was second and Lamont sixth the two other runners of interest still between the pair. At 75 meters G was holding second, Lamont had moved to fifth, again the two Kennedale runners between them. Potts had an uneasy feeling as he watched the race progress. He needed Lamont to pass a Kennedale runner, which he thought wasn't possible at that moment.

Lamont was pushing, thinking of the hungry dog, but all he was coming up with is the fat dog. Maybe his dog had been fed and didn't have the desire to hunt. At 15 meters the places of order hadn't changed. Potts was starting to accept it would be second place. Then came the miracle of all miracles. One of the Kennedale runners suddenly grabbed the back of his thigh in agony and crashed to the track, the victim of a severely pulled hamstring muscle. Lamont passed the injured runner, enabling TJHS to win the state championship. Lamont would joke the runner slipped on a meatball.

G finished second and Lamont fourth, but it was good enough to give Thomas Jefferson the state championship. Potts first thought he didn't want to win like that, but then he realized it didn't matter. A win is a win. He had realized his dream…the state track and field championship.

He ran onto the track and embraced G and Lamont in a bear hug. They jumped up and down, this American combination of a black youth and a Muslim youngster and an old white man, celebrating success. Many coaches, who were lifelong friends, came over to congratulate the long time coach. Potts was on cloud nine.