Buzz.
“Kevin,” Louie said.
“Shit.” Joe snapped his fingers.
Every Slagel son, moaned out, ‘Dad’
“What? I tried. Don’t worry. He won’t get the number one answer.”
Kevin sneered then arrogantly glanced at Louie to answer. “Play on the computer.”
Louie faced the board. “Show me play on the computer.”
Ding.
“Number two.”
The Slagels cheered.
“Joe?” Louie asked. “One answer better.”
“How about clean up the work area?”
“Show me clean up the work area.”
Ding.
“Yeah!” The Slagels cheered.
“Number one answer,” Louie said. “Play or pass.”
“We’ll play.”
Amidst the cheers, Louie made his way to Frank.
Frank was nudging Joe. “God job, Dad. Good job.”
“Frank?” Louie leaned against the podium table.
“Yes.”
“Name something people do at work to pass the time when they are bored.”
Confidently Frank answered, “Bite their nails, Lou.”
Jimmy covered his face.
“What? It’s good,” Frank said. “Isn’t it, Lou?”
Louie faced the board. “Bite their nails.”
Buzz.
“Fuck.”
‘Frank.”
“Sorry.”
Louie moved to Jimmy. “Jim?”
“How about read.”
Frank snickered. “Figures.”
“Show us, read.”
Ding.
“God job.” Frank swatted Jimmy.
“Hal?” Louie approached Hal who was till clapping.
“Make a telephone call.”
Just as Louise was about to speak, Frank’s loud groan rang out.
“Call?” Frank laughed. “That sucks.”
“Well, it’s better than biting your nails, you moron,” Hal barked.
Louie shook his head. “I thought officers were supposed to be gentleman.”
Hal corrected, “I’m the only officer here, Lou.”
“I stand corrected,” Louie faced the board “Show us make a phone call.”
Ding.
“Fuck.”
Louie quickly looked at Frank.
“Sorry.” Frank hunched. “I can’t stand my brother.’
“You’re feuding with the Wesleys.”
“Got it.” Frank gave a thumb’s up.
Louie moved to Robbie. “Robbie? Your answer.”
“How about talk to a co-worker.”
Biding the ‘good answer, good answer’ cheers, Louie looked up. “Talk to a co-worker?”
Buzz.
“That’s Okay, Robbie,” Frank encouraged. “Dad’s and me are next. Don’t worry.”
Louie moved to Joe. “Joe, fine family you have.’
“Thank you, Louie.”
“All Military. I see.”
Joe looked down his line of sons, all in uniform. “They’re hard to miss.”
“Still four answers on the board. You have two strikes. Give me an answer.”
“Leave to smoke.”
Frank’s hand slammed down. “We’re done. We’re out. Three strikes. Buzz.”
Louie called out. “Smoke.”
Ding.
“Fuck.”
Joe reached over and nudged Frank, hard. “Will you quit?”
“Sorry.”
Louie walked to Frank. “How about a good answer, Frank?”
Hal snickered. “You stand a better chance of asking him for a good lottery number.”
“Shut the fuck up, Hal.” Frank snapped. “I have one.” He looked at Louie.
Louie waited. “Frank?”
“Can you repeat the question?”
Over the moan, Louie did. “Name something people do to pass the time at work when they’re bored.”
Frank thought.
“Three seconds.”
Trying to look inconspicuous, Frank clenched his jaws, leaned to Jimmy, and whispered. “Give me an answer.”
“No cheating,” Louie said.
“Sorry.” Brightly, Frank snapped his fingers. “Got it. Sing.”
The sighs from the brothers were barely done. Louie didn’t even get the answer out and the wrong answer buzzed sounded off.
“Wesleys get a chance to steal.” Louie scurried across the stage to where the Wesley’s came from their huddle. “Kevin. Three answers still up there”
“We got it,” Kevin said, cocky. “Sleep.”
“For the steal. show me . . . Sleep.”
Ding.
After revealing the remaining answers of ‘do other work’ and ‘leave’, Louie called forth Frank and Karen. He watched as their hands hardly touched in the handshake. “That wasn’t a very nice handshake.”
Frank shrugged with an exhale. “Sorry, Lou, but she tried to run me over once with the car.”
“That wasn’t me. That was my husband,” Karen corrected. “I was the crossing guard who used to make you cross while the cars were still coming down the street,”
“That’s it. Thanks.” Frank nodded. “I knew you did something. Go on, Lou. You can start.”
Louie blinked in shock then sighed “Well. Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Hand above the buzzer? Top six answers are on the board. Name . . .”
Buzz.
Hal’s disgusted, ‘Oh my God’ was the loudest.
“Frank!” Jimmy snapped. “What the hell?”
“Can you start again?” Joe questioned. “He’s just slow.”
Louie gave an apologetic look. “Sorry. Your answer, Frank.”
“Um . . .” Frank glanced at the board as if he could come up with an answer.
“Three seconds.”
“Um . . .” His eyes shifted to the Wesley’s, especially Kevin who crossed his arms with a smug look. “Shut up!” he blasted. “Not you, Lou.”
“Your answer, Frank.”
“God.” He grumbled out.
Louie half-turned. “Show me . . . God.”
Ding!
“Number one answer.”
“Yes!” Frank jumped with his arms in the air.
“What!” Kevin screamed. “That’s cheating. No, Lou, no.”
“For crying out loud,” Joe griped. “You got seventy-eight goddamn points and we have Frank. How can we cheat?”
Louie faced a jumping Frank. “Frank? Frank. Play or pass.”
“Oh, we’ll play, Lou. We’ll play.” Clenching his fist inward, Frank released another ‘yes’ as he walked to his dad. “I’m probably psychic.”
“Yeah-yeah. Stand in your spot.”
Louie walked up to Jimmy. “Jimmy? What do you say?”
Like a school boy, Hal raised his hand and leaned over toward Louie. He gave a smile that raised more on one side of his face. “Louie, for as much as we would like to claim psychic ability like my brother, we can’t.” The smile dropped. “What is the question?”
Frank huffed out. “Uh, Hal. Name. Name is the question. Where were you?”
“Good God. Can we give him to the Wesleys?” Hal stated.
Frank gave a slight nudge to Jimmy. “Name. Name. Just say a big name like God. Think of someone big.”
Louie looked at Jimmy. “Name . . .”
Jimmy held up his hand.
“What?” Louie asked.
“If he can do it, so can I.”
“Dear Lord.” Hal tossed his head back then gave a small slap to Robbie. “Quit laughing.”
Jimmy answered, “Your father.”
Frank clapped loud. “Good answer. Good answer.”
Louie shrugged, “Show me . . . Father.”
Ding! Number three slot rolled over and it showed ‘parent’.
“What?” Hal spewed out shocked.
Louie moved to Hal. “Hal?”
“Can I hear the question, Lou
ie?”
Frank spoke up. “No, Hal. Don’t cheat.”
“Cheat?” Hal quizzed. “How is it cheating, you idiot?”
“I did it,” Frank argued. “Jimmy did it. Come on try.”
Hal sighed out heavily. “Fine.”
Questionably, Louie looked at him. “Fine? You really don’t want to hear the question?”
“No.” Hal shook his head. “If I’m wrong, it’s the first strike. Um . . .” He looked at the board. “Therapist.”
Frank laughed. “Therapist. You think out of a hundred people, someone has a therapist?”
Ding.
Frank shrugged “I guess four people do.”
Hal smiled.
Louie moved to the next brother. “Robbie, three answers left. Would you like to hear the question?”
“Nah.” Robbie shook his head. “I’ll wing it. How about a brother or a sister?
Frank and Jimmy clapped calling out ‘good answer. Good answer.’
Louie requested, “Show us sibling.”
Buzz.
Robbie winced.
Hal chuckled. “I can see it’s a repeat of baseball. Another strike.”
Frank reached far behind Jimmy and hit Hal. “That’s not right. He tried.”
Louie moved to Joe. “Mr. Slagel. Your answer.”
“Suffice to say I’m not my moronic sons. Read the goddamn question, Lou.”
Louie smiled. “Finally.”
Frank shook his head. “That’s not it. It’s Name. Name.”
Louie contained his laugh. “Joe, name someone or something people turned to in time of need.”
Frank wisped out an ‘oh.” He nodded. “Now it’s making sense.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “Ya think.” He shook his head and looked at Louie. “How about the bottle, Lou?”
Louie turned to the board. “Show me bottle.”
A ‘ding’ brought alcohol on the board.
Louie walked onward with hesitation,. “Frank?’
Hal held up two fingers. “Buzz him now, Louie.”
Frank waved off Hal. “I got it. I got a good one. A gun, Lou.”
Hal made a buzzing sound.
Louie faced the board. “Is gun there?”
Buzz.
Hal tossed up his hands.
Louie walked to Jimmy. “What do you say? Two answers left. Two strikes.”
“Prayer.”
Frank groaned, “Try again, that’s the same as God.”
“No, it’s not,” Jimmy argued. “Not everyone believes in God.”
Louie called out. “Is prayer there?”
Ding.
He moved to Hal. “Hal, you’re under pressure. One answer left. Two strikes. The Wesleys get a chance to steal. What do you say?”
“How about spouse?”
“If spouse is there it’s a clean sweep. If not, the Wesleys get a chance to steal. Show us . . . spouse.”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
“Next two players,” Louie requested.
Frank formed a ‘T’ with his hands. “Time out. Time out. If it’s a clean sweep and there were a hundred people surveyed, how come we only got ninety-two points. Fuckin two people didn’t fill out their surveys. That’s what it was.” He nodded.
Jimmy chuckled as he passed Frank and went into a faceoff with Willoby. They shook hands cordially.
Louie looked impressed. “No feud here?”
Jimmy fluttered his lips. “Please, I hate him.”
“Just asking.” Louie shrugged. “Hands above the buzzer. Point value is doubled. Name something people carry in their pocket . . .”
Buzz.
“Jimmy?”
Joe lifted his hand and let it drop. “He’s as bad as goddamn Frank.”
“Jimmy, you answer.”
“Wallet,” Jimmy said.
Buzz.
“What?” Frank blasted. “Check that board. That’s wrong. I carry my wallet in my pocket.”
Louie held up the card and turned to Willoby. “I’ll finish the question since the psychic Slagels failed this time. Name something people carry in their pockets just in case.”
“A spare house key,” Willoby answered.
Ding.
“Number four,” Louie said. “Play or pass?”
“We’ll play.”
Louie walked over to the Wesleys, mumbling ‘thank God.’
They struck out, one two three. In fact, the Wesleys struck out so fast, that the Slagel’s didn’t see Louie return.
“Slagels?”He called out.
They raced to their podium table, screaming at Joe.
“Condom!” Frank yelled.
“Dad, condom. Condom,” Robbie added.
“Dad!” Jimmy screamed. “Prophylactic.”
Frank backhanded Jimmy. “No, Condom, ass. Condom’s the answer.”
“Condom,” Hal called out.
“Yeah.” Frank added loudly. “Even though Hal hasn’t a clue what one is for, it’s rubber. Just say . . . “
”Christ Almighty, I know.” Joe yelled and faced Louie. “We’re going with condom, Lou.”
“Is condom there?”
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Kevin Wesley threw his hands in the air. “Is it me or does it figure those testosterone filled apes would say condom?”
“Hey!” Frank pointed.
“Next two. Hal . . .” Louie smirked. “Cory.” He waited until the two faced off. “You two do know we positioned you to be against each other?”
Hal grinned arrogantly.
“Shake hands. Dollar value is tripled . . . you can stop shaking hands,” Louie commented on how Hal and Cory were locked in a firm, hard nonmoving handshake. “Release . . .” Louie broke it up. “The hands, guys.”
“I see you finally cut that hair,” Cory sarcastically said.
“Hmm. Yes,” Hal replied. “Well paid, highly regarded officers cannot run around looking like . . .”He raised his eyebrow. “You.”
“Hands above the buzzer,” Louie instructed.
Cory ignored him, “I hear you’re in recruiting. Still trying to get losers to join you?”
“I’m sure our fine men and women of the armed service will forever photograph your face right now so they can approach you over that loser comment.”
“Hands above the buzzer, guys,” Louie requested.
“Well at least you found an organization that likes you,” Cory remarked.
“Yes, perhaps with some luck, the folks at the welfare office will soon like you as well. I heard that you’re quite the reject there.” Hal smiled. “Of course that’s after they tossed you out of the unemployment line for being there too long.”
“Hands above the buzzer,” Louie tried again.
Hal continued, “Have you upgraded that trailer home yet, Cory? I hear the no nonsense two bedrooms are on sale.”
“Blow me, Hal.”
Hands above the buzzer, gentlemen.”
“Blow you? Hmm. Funny you would say that . . .” Hal dropped his voice to a whisper. “Your wife approached me with a very similar offer.”
“Was that before or after your father approached me with the same.”
It was fast, too fast; the camera’s barely caught it. Hal reached across the table, snatched Cory by the shirt, yanked him close, and nailed him square in the nose.
Cory flew back, fast and far, and the second he landed and rolled off the small stage portion, was the second every Wesley and every Slagel man, including Joe, charged for each other.
Louie tossed up the card and ran. Just as the full fledged battle commenced, the screen went fuzzy.
“What?” Jess stood up. “No.”
Jimmy shut off the set. “They never aired it.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Check this out. Because the producers said Hal started it, the Wesleys got to play another family. They went on to win ten thousand dollars.”
“That sucks.”
‘Tell me about it.” Jimmy
reached for the tape.
“Stop,” Jess halted him. “Can we just . . . can we watch your family again?”
“You know what?” Jimmy smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, we can watch my family again.” He hit the rewind button.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
February 5th
Would it had been incredibly forward of Mike had he just lifted Ellen from her coma slumber on the couch and carried her to bed? He debated on doing so the night before but opted against it. He only got a blanket and covered her. He felt uncomfortable about facing Ellen that morning. He hoped to be the first one to rise, but the smell of coffee told him it definitely wasn’t Tigger, and he heard Johnny snoring the second he stepped from the bathroom. Of course, the bathroom should have been a dead give-a-way to Mike that Ellen had used it first. A damp clean aroma filled the bathroom, the shower curtain was pulled closed, the towel folded, and the toilet seat down.
His tee-shirt caught the occasional trickle of water from his damp hair and Mike pulled at the fabric to keep it from sticking to him. He took a breath of courage and walked through the living room, all the way to the kitchen. He cleared his throat, “Morning,” he said, catching a glimpse of Ellen seated at the table as he made his way to the coffee pot. “Thanks for making coffee.”
“No, problem.” Ellen shuffled through photos on the table.
“How did you sleep? I wanted you to have the bed, not the couch.”
“I know. I was . . .” Ellen looked up. “Oh my God, I’m jealous.”
“Excuse me?” Mike asked as he turned around.
“Your hair is beautiful.”
“Excuse me?” Mike repeated only this time in retaliatory shock..
“Your hair.”
“My hair?” Mike reached up, realizing it wasn’t pulled back.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Christ.” He shook his head. “Ellen, word of advice, a man doesn’t want to hear his hair is beautiful.”
“Why?”
“Um, uh, . . . I don’t . . .” Mike walked to the table and stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Ellen noticed why Mike stopped. He looked at the photographs she sorted through. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry. Tigger said it would be all right. He brought me a box down last night when you . . .”
“No. No.” Mike shook his head and sat down. “That’s all right.”
“So you really think I look like Dylan?” Ellen held a picture up.
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 354
