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A Future and a Hope

By David Mathews

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Here is the opening scene from Chapter One:

THE SHARP JANGLE OF THE bell pierced the library-like quietness
of Baxter High School’s main hallway. A moment later, as if choreo-
graphed, doors flung open and rivers of students and sound poured
from classrooms, flooding the corridor and displacing the echoes and
emptiness. Against the swirling sea of academia, students somehow
managed to navigate back to their lockers with the skill of a driver
facing the oncoming traffic of a one-way street.
A loud “Wahoo!” arose above the cacophony of noise. Dodging
bodies with the agility of an All-American running back, an exuber-
ant Caleb Sawyer zigged and zagged his way through the hordes of
humanity at high velocity.
From the safety of his classroom doorway, the biology teacher
bellowed his usual “Where’s the fire, Sawyer?” to which the speeding
senior responded with his usual “Sorry, Mr. Hartsock!” but with little
noticeable reduction in miles per hour.
He meant no disrespect. It’s just that, after sitting through class
after class from morning to afternoon, his pent-up energy simply
needed a safety valve.
“Hey, dude!” The sound of B.J. Martin’s voice accomplished what
Mr. Hartsock could not. Caleb eased off the throttle, executed a tight
U-turn in the middle of the hallway, and cruised back to his best
friend’s locker. He shot B.J. a wry look.
“Don’t you know it’s Friday, man? Freedom calls!”
B.J. scrambled to unload his books. “What time you gotta be back
here for the Jamboree?”
“Coach says six-thirty. Dressed and on the field by seven.” He gri-
maced. “Not a good idea to be late for the first game!”
“You got time to go to Edwards first?” B.J. asked.
“I’ve got some things to do at home, but I can be there around
five-thirty. But just long enough to grab something to eat. What time
you gonna be there?”
B.J. buried his face in the locker. “Five, maybe. Fills up pretty early
on game nights. Want me to save you a seat?”
Caleb didn’t reply. He stared down the hallway.
B.J. repeated his question without looking up. “Want me to save
you a seat?”
Still staring, Caleb answered absentmindedly, “Uh, yeah . . . fine.”
B.J. disengaged himself from his locker, and glanced up quizzically.
“Hey, Einstein! Did I lose you back there somewhere?” He spelled it
out slowly for his friend. “Do. You. Want. Me. To. Save. You. A. Seat?”
He followed Caleb’s gaze.
About fifty feet down the hall, Ellie Thompson stood in front of her
locker loading books into her backpack. With beautiful brown eyes, a
nice but somewhat shy smile, and long wavy auburn hair that bounced
when she walked, she was just the kind of girl that turned heads.
“Ellie Thompson?” B.J. shook his head incredulously and gave an
evil grin. “Out of your league, pal!”
Caleb snapped out of his trance. “What do you mean, ‘out of my
league’?” He squared his shoulders. “How do you know she’s out of
my league?”
“Well just look at her. She’s gorgeous! And a straight ‘A’ student.
Might even challenge Monica Stedwell for class valedictorian.”
Caleb snorted in disbelief. “How could you possibly know that?
Did she tell you her GPA or something? I heard she pretty much keeps
to herself and hardly talks to anybody.”
B.J. threw up his hands defensively, “Hey, all I know is that Jaimee
Starrett volunteers in the records office, and she just happened to see
her grade transcripts on Miss Johnson’s desk the first day of school.”
“And why don’t you think I’d stand a chance with a gorgeous,
straight ‘A’ student?” Caleb pressed.
B.J. smirked. “I’m just trying to keep you away from her so I have
a better chance myself!”
Caleb feigned offense. “Aha! The truth finally comes out! Some
friend you are!” He playfully punched his friend in the arm.
“Ow!” B.J. rubbed the spot gingerly. “Well, she definitely isn’t gonna
be easy to get to know. Chris Miller was hitting on her the first day
of school and got shot down big-time! So did Kenny Wilson. I mean,
I’ve heard she’s okay and all. Not stuck up or anything. But it’s almost
like she doesn’t want anyone to get close to her.”
“You gonna take somebody else’s word for that?” Caleb raised one
eyebrow. “How do you know that’s true unless you talk to her yourself?”
B.J. stared sheepishly at his shoes. “I tried. And got nowhere.” He
looked up and added, “Just like everybody else!” Staring down the hall
at her, he sighed wistfully, “She sure is a challenge.”
Caleb resolutely planted his feet. “Well, I happen to like a chal-
lenge! And I don’t give up so easily.” With all the false bravado he could
muster, he announced, “With her kind you gotta keep things light and
easy. Slow and steady. And have patience. Lots of patience! That’s how
it’s done, bro.” Patting B.J. on the back, he glanced down the hallway.
“Wish me luck!”
His friend shook his head. “Okay, pal. Your funeral!” Caleb turned
and headed in Ellie’s direction. B.J. called after him, “But don’t count
on me being there for it!”
Caleb glanced over his shoulder and shot his friend a confident grin.
“I’ll give you a progress report at Edwards!"

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