Reading the Fine Print
A Collection of Short Stories and Poems
By
A. M. Reed
M. L. Reed
C. L. Reed
L. M. Reed
Copyright
A. M. Reed
M. L. Reed
C. L. Reed
L. M. Reed
2012
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Titles
Chain of Wisdom (A Teenage Story) By L. M. Reed
Love (A Special Kind of Love Poem) By A. M. Reed
Spinning (A Short Story) By C. L. Reed
Lady and Buckshot: The Wright Ruff (A children’s story) By M. R. Reed & L. M. Reed
Fit or Fitty? (A Rhyme of Old-ish Proportions) By L. M. Reed
Potted Plants and Wedding Bells (An Unusual Love Story) By L. M. Reed
Who the Heck Decided? (Tongue-in-cheek Poem) By A. M. Reed
Time and Space (A Paranormal Short Story) By C. L. Reed
Death of a Dream (A Creepy Conversation) By L. M. Reed
The Decision (A Paranormal Short Story) By A. M. Reed
The History Lesson (A Political Short Story) By L. M. Reed
Wake up Little Lucy (A Teenage Story) By L. M. Reed
Chain of Wisdom
By L. M. Reed
“I can’t believe I blew that test,” Jesse wailed as we exited the classroom.
“Well, if you hadn’t left it at home…” I suggested mischievously.
“Yeah, right,” he replied, “if I’d had my all-powerful ‘Chain of Wisdom’ with me I would have aced that sucker.”
“I had mine and I did just fine,” I pointed out.
“And it had nothing to do with the fact that you’re smart and I’m not,” Jesse said shortly.
“Don’t underestimate the power of the ‘Chain of Wisdom’,” I intoned, shaking my head at him in mock warning.
“I refuse to carry around some girly knitted thingy on the off-chance that it’s good luck,” he whispered furiously in my ear as we arrived at our lockers.
It’s crocheted,” I reprimanded him, “besides the fact that I made it with black yarn and I put stones on yours instead of beads so I resent your implication that it’s a girly thingy.”
“I didn’t imply anything,” he corrected me. “I stated it uncategorically.”
“The word is categorically,” I wrinkled my nose at him. “No wonder you didn’t do well on our English test. You really do need the ‘Chain of Wisdom.”
Jesse stuck his tongue out at me as he slammed his locker shut and headed off for football practice. I smiled after him.
He’s such a child sometimes, I admitted ruefully, but I knew I wouldn’t have changed him in any way, even if it were possible. He was perfect.
We had been best friends ever since kindergarten when some huge first grade boy had pushed me off the swings and Jesse had gallantly come to my rescue. Helping me off the ground, he calmly dusted me off then proceeded to push the first grader off the swing and then held it still while I climbed back into it.
Jesse had always been large for his age so the first grade bully had taken one look at him and run for the hills. Actually he had run for a teacher whose name was Mrs. Hill and, even though I had stood up for Jesse, she had kept both of them in at recess for the next few days. Once he had regained his freedom, Jesse and I had become practically inseparable.
The funny thing was that you couldn’t have found two more different people.
Jesse was the All-American boy: a clean cut good-looking hunk with blonde hair and blue eyes. By the time we hit junior high, he was already almost six foot tall and Mr. Athlete. Every coach at the school fought over him, wanting exclusive rights to his talent. He had different ideas. Because he enjoyed every sport, he refused to pick just one and because the coaches wanted him desperately, they agreed to share him.
Even when we started high school, Jesse still refused to make a decision. He did, however, agree to cut out baseball, tennis, and soccer, only playing those sports in the summer leagues, and begin concentrating on football, track, and basketball. There wasn’t much overlap in the three he chose to stick with and, as in junior high, the coaches were more than willing to give him plenty of lee-way as long as he continued playing for them.
I attended every one of his events, he liked to call me his own private cheering section, unless it was during school hours and I couldn’t get away. High school was much easier since he was down to three school-sponsored sports. I was relieved. His stuff had taken up so much of my time over the past ten years that I’d learn how to combine my favorite pastimes with my perfect attendance at his athletic contests.
Over the years, I would have thought he would get tired of asking me before every one of his events if I was coming, but apparently it never got old for him. I didn’t understand why it was so important to him that I be there, but I knew it was, so I went.
I, on the other hand, was a nerd of epic proportions.
My loves were reading, writing, scrap-booking, and crocheting and Jesse had helped me out by giving me a camera for my birthday our seventh grade year saying jokingly that it was to take pictures of him for a special scrapbook he expected to get from me our senior year. I took him very seriously, and meticulously took pictures during every one of his events and just as meticulously put artistic pages together in his scrapbook. I had to admit, he always looked good in the pictures.
Ironically, my memory was photographic and Jesse’s face was photogenic, and we would have willingly swapped places if it had been at all possible.
I had zero athletic ability, walking a semi-straight line was a challenge for me, and my understanding of sports was directly inline with my ability, or lack thereof, but that wasn’t the part of him I would have swapped for. I wanted his good looks and popularity…well, the female equivalent of his good looks.
With my photographic memory, I knew all of the fundamentals and rules but sports were still all confusing to me. That didn’t bother me a bit. Why should anyone care that much about putting a silly ball though a ring ten foot above the floor or kicking a weirdly shaped ball into the middle of a U-shaped pole or running home or having a touching down—I thought touch downs were for astronauts and pilots anyway—or any of the numerous strange rituals athletes go through? The objectives were what mystified me the most. They just seemed so…useless. What was so exciting about any of it? I had given up trying to figure it out a long time ago.
It wasn’t that I was against games—I loved a good game of chess or checkers, pitting my wits against someone else’s and coming out on top—I just couldn’t figure out how anyone could get so excited about things that were totally irrelevant in life. Especially things that would mean nothing to anyone in ten years like throwing or catching or kicking.
My parents had been pressured by the counselor at school to send me to a special school once my ‘brilliance’ was discovered, but not only could they not afford it, I didn’t want to go. Even after they were assured of at least a partial scholarship for me, none of us wanted me to have to move hours and hours away to live a solitary, lonely life in a dormitory.
We were a close family and besides I would have missed Jesse terribly. I never told him, figuring that was something he didn’t need to know, and I wasn’t sure how he would have reacted. If he had pushed me to go, I know I would have been crushed, thinking he was trying to get rid of me.
Of course, when we entered junior high
Jesse was instantly popular, one of the coolest guys in school. Girls were always making what he disgustedly called goo-goo eyes at him and hinting around for him to call them. One girl even wrote her phone number on the sleeve of his shirt before he realized what she was doing.
I laughed to myself as I remembered how angry he had been. She had defaced his favorite shirt. I recalled reading something about how hairspray, vinegar, and/or alcohol could remove ink stains and finally managed to get the stain out for him. My mother hadn’t been happy about my using all of her hairspray, but she got over it. Jesse had been pathetically thankful, offering me a lifetime of servitude in exchange.
I told him I’d think about it.
I, on the other hand, was practically invisible. My parents had discovered I was almost blind the summer before I began seventh grade so I had acquired thick glasses, and even though Jesse said I had pretty green eyes, no one could see them through the magnifying lenses I was forced to wear. My non-descript brown hair was singularly unspectacular, I always wore it in a ponytail to keep it out of my face, and I never felt at home in anything other than jeans, tennis shoes, and a t-shirt. Add all of that to the fact that I was extremely intelligent and my fate as the classic geek…dork…nerd—pretty much any and every word available meaning the total opposite of cool—was sealed
By the time we started high school, I decided to try to hide the fact that I was smarter than almost anyone else at school, even some of the teachers, and attempt to fit in. I refused to take any advanced classes, so Jesse and I were able to schedule all of our basics together, and made sure my grades were good but not too good. Although he was glad about that, Jesse said I was nuts and that if he had my brains he would be shouting it to the world saying I should be proud to be so special. I just wanted to be considered normal. In the teenage world, special is only good if it means beautiful, athletic, or rich.
I was none of those things. Jesse was all three. Well, handsome—he would object to being called beautiful saying it was another girly thing—but same difference.
The fact that we had made it to our freshman year in high school and were still best friends was amazing to me. Senior girls, gorgeous senior girls, were asking Jesse out on a regular basis and he was turning them down. I constantly told him he was nuts, but he would just shrug, say he wasn’t interested, and change the subject.
Odd how people seemed to admire and desire what they can’t have; I yearned for physical beauty and popularity while Jesse seemed to want my brains, which I would have gladly given to him no strings attached if I could have. It wasn’t that I wanted to be stupid; I just didn’t want to be a stinking genius. I would rather be a raving beauty. Although my new glasses were a definite improvement over my last pair, they still didn’t prevent me from being the nerdiest kid in school…and that was saying a lot.
~**~
“So, you comin’ to my game tonight?” Jesse ventured casually, the same question in the same tone as all the other times he had asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I responded, the same answer with the same smile I had used for the past three years.
“Great.”
“Great.”
We both laughed uproariously at ourselves as we always did.
“Hmm…”I pondered, “we may be in a rut.”
“Ya think?” he asked with faked thoughtfulness.
“Nah,” we said simultaneously and went back to eating, or in my case trying to eat what passed for lunch.
Jesse devoured food like it there was no tomorrow, but my taste buds were more delicate and I usually picked at the cafeteria food, any food really, which would account for my general boniness and lack of any hint of a feminine curve.
“You gonna finish that?” he asked eyeing my food hopefully.
Glancing at my plate in distaste, I pushed the whole tray towards him.
“Knock your self out,” I sniffed.
Watching Jesse devour the starchy contents, I shivered.
Ignorance was definitely bliss, I decided silently not for the first time cursing my brain that made it hard if not impossible for me to forget anything.
I could easily picture what those carbohydrates were doing to the inside of Jesse’s body. Even the pineapple he was merrily chomping down on was questionable. Just a few days before I had read an article online about how much mold was allowed by the FDA in canned pineapple and it had freaked me out. Digging a little deeper I discovered that all sorts of things were allowed in different foods, even peanut butter, my mainstay in life. I was going to have to try to avoid thinking about what was hiding in food or I would never eat again.
“Hi Jesse,” a female voice said from somewhere behind me. I rolled my eyes at him and stifled a laugh.
“Hey, Mitzi,” Jesse replied amiably. “What can I do for you?”
“Could we talk?”
Since she was behind me, I couldn’t see her face but I could picture it perfectly from the pointed tone in her voice. She was obviously hoping to lose the eavesdropper…me.
“Sure,” Jesse leaned back in his chair, making him self more comfortable, deliberately misunderstanding her. “Shoot.”
“I meant…alone,” she emphasized the last word meaningfully.
“Oh,” he replied faking confusion, “You mean Janey? Don’t worry she won’t remember anything we say. Like a leaky faucet,” he used his index finger to tap his head a couple of times.
I kicked him under the table, coughing to cover up the noise as well as my amusement. Mitzi came around to sit beside him.
“Okay, well…” she began hesitantly “I’m having some trouble in history and…”
“You’re a junior,” he reminded her. “I can’t help you with that since I’m only a freshman.”
“No, I know that,” she said dismissively, “but I heard through the grapevine that you have something special that helps you make better grades and I was wondering if…”
“What do you mean I have something special?” Jesse’s eyes narrowed and he practically glared at poor Mitzi. “I don’t cheat.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Mitzi was quick to reassure him. “I mean your…” she lowered her voice and whispered “Chain of Wisdom.”
“My…” Jesse looked bewildered for a moment then I saw his face clear. “Oh…my Chain of Wisdom,” he nodded, the wheels in his head obviously turning. “That’s supposed to be a secret. How did you find out about it?”
“Well, I heard if from Stan who heard it from Chucky who heard if from Liz who heard it from Melissa whose sister Julie is in your English class,” she finished almost breathlessly. “She overheard you talking about it yesterday after the test.”
“I see,” Jesse nodded. “I have to tell you I’m not the one to ask. I have one, but I don’t know much about them, not sure I even believe in them. Janey here is the expert. She brought back the ritualistic secrets of the Chain of Wisdom from her trip to China last year.”
That was news to me.
True, my dad had been sent to China by his company the year before, and Mom and I had been allowed stay with him at the hotel as long as we paid for our own tickets to get there, but as much as it had been a trip worth remembering, I didn’t remember anything about bringing home secret ancient Chinese rituals. I’d totally made up the Chain of Wisdom thing.
“You mean…her?” Mitzi asked incredulously pointing at me.
I could well believe her incredulity. Jesse had just gotten through convincing her that my brain was a leaky faucet so selling me as the guru of wisdom was going to be rather difficult. I wondered idly what he was up to.
“Yes…her…” I could hear some irritation creeping into Jesse’s voice. “Since she has been using the Chain of Wisdom her grades have been steadily getting better. Just a few years ago she was practically failing everything.”
“Really,” Mitzi’s interest was piqued “that’s exactly what I need. If I flunk out of hist
ory, I’ll be kicked off the cheerleading squad. Becky would love that,” she muttered. “I can’t let that happen. You have to help me,” she turned to me in a pleading tone.
“I know you don’t like to give out your secrets, Janey,” Jesse began conspiratorially, noticing the look on my face that screamed liar at him “but I think you may want to reconsider. Mitzi really needs help.”
“You know good and well…” I tried to interject only to be interrupted by Jesse.
“I know…I know…the secret cannot be sold, but it can be traded,” he suggested winking at me. “What would you have to bargain with, Mitzi?”
“Well,” she eyed me thoughtfully “I’m great with makeup and hair, I could give you a makeover,” she finished excitedly.
“I’m not…” I began, but once again Jesse interrupted.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Jesse enthused. “She’ll do it.”
My eyes widened in horror as I took in Jesse’s eagerness. Was I so hard on the eyes that he felt like he had to find me a makeover in order to stay friends? I could feel the sadness settling inside of me. I always knew the time would come that Jesse would start being ashamed to be seen with me in public, but I hadn’t realized how devastated that would make me feel.
If that’s what he wants, I told myself fiercely, that’s what he’ll get.
Throwing myself into the spirit of the thing I turned to Mitzi “There are a few things I will need to know about you,” I began, thinking fast and furiously, making things up as I proceeded in order to outline what she would have to do.
I pulled out a sheet of paper from my notebook and started a list. “I will need you to answer all of these questions as honestly as you can. The Chain of Wisdom has to be customized for each individual or it will not work correctly,” I finished gravely. “I will also need a few drops of your favorite perfume, scents are soothing and help one to concentrate, as well as some small personal items like beads that can be strung onto the Chain of Wisdom to make it your own.”
Noticing Jesse’s puzzled frown I shrugged, I had read something about scents once and thought it made a nice addition. The beads, well, I didn’t want to be buying beads for someone else, I was too cheap. I would explain it to Jesse later.
“Okay, I will get all of this to you tomorrow,” Mitzi said looking over the short list of questions.