Angel of Life

By Jay J. Stemmer

JOHN ROBERTS is born in China, a water birth. American Ambassador father and American mother. Competition swimming begins at age 4 followed by martial arts. His mother dies when he is seven and the father is killed when he is 12. He and his younger sister SUSAN and brother WAYNE join their stepfather in New Jersey. Private schooling in China puts them far above grades assigned by age. Bullies that start a fight end up in the hospital. The principal finds a way to send them to high school. Two hoodlums follow John after school. He leads them into the woods and leaves their dead bodies behind. John is accepted to take classes at USC so this is a good time to leave for Hollywood.
John drops Akido, switches to boxing and trains for the Olympics. He sings and plays the piano with a local band, finishes school and the family goes to Korea. John gets talked into giving a charity rock and roll concert right at the Olympic games by his younger brother. He shuns the spotlight even though his multi-event gold medals thrust him there. NBC is hungry since the 1988 Seoul summer games is a ratings disaster. John returns to medical school at USC. The concert special kills during the November sweeps and a rock star is born. A dispute with NBC leads John to ABC where he does a comedy/variety special, four times a year for sweeps. He stays in school and juggles the lucrative show business pursuits. Wayne organizes JPR Enterprises with CHARLES LEE (stepfather), while working on his computer model that picks winning stocks.
The band plays Las Vegas and John befriends Vince, a local Mafia boss.
John has 24 hour protection from an in house, security force. A crack legal team is assembled, called the Sharks. Being rich makes the family a target. Because of gang drive-by shootings the blocks around Johns house are declared crime free. Some ignore the warning and end up in quicksand. Never seen again. There are back stabbing network executives, , a violent striking union, and dirty cops to keep the family on their toes. Most things are going to plan.
They never saw it coming.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524618773

Jay J. Stemmer

He served in the army as an enlisted man and, after ROTC and a BS in civil engineering from New Jersey Institute of Technology, took a commission in the air force. He served as a medical officer in the Bio-Environmental Engineering Corps in the 812th Medical Group, Walker AFB, Roswell, New Mexico. After graduate school, he worked as a professional engineer in safety, inspecting some of the largest construction projects in California. He has been a proud member of the Screen Actors Guild for thirty years, having small parts in movies and on television and never quit the day job. Angel of Life is the first book in the Angel trilogy. The second is Angel of Death and will be followed by Angel of Rescue. The author’s previous books include Medical Manual of Industrial Toxicology (USAF), with John R. Sebald, MD; A History of Air Transport in Latin America and Forecasts for the Decade Ahead” (Lockheed); and Around the World in 80 Years. He lives in Glendale, California.

Book preview

1

J ohn knew there was going to be trouble when he saw the three of them come towards him. The cocky look. The strut.

He had seen it before. He was at the edge of the outdoor basketball court at school. Standing on asphalt, with grass behind him. His built-in radar confirmed there was no one approaching from the rear. His face was without expression as he smiled inwardly.

They were taller and larger and he would be easy prey.

Or so they thought. John remembered the words of his mentor, Chan Ti. There will come a time when an example must be set to prevent future challenges. A dramatic example leaves the longest impression. John was gauging the spacing as the three stopped in front of him forming a small semi-circle.

The scene was calm, the week before. Charles Lee had just entered the principal’s office. William Crowden, PhD in Education, was reading the files on the children. Please be seated Mr. Lee. You realize this is a very unusual case.

He looked up from the desk to see an attractive, well dressed, average sized Chinese-American man in his early thirties.

I do, Charles replied calmly and made himself as comfortable as possible in the straight back wood chair.

It says here that you work for the State Department in New York City. Charles nodded. In what capacity Mr. Lee? I’m an attorney, Charles responded. Dr. Crowden waited for a further explanation but Charles remained silent.

There are many types of attorneys, Mr. Lee.

Mostly foreign contracts, that’s all I can really discuss, sir. Charles smiled. He wanted a favor from this imposing man clearly impressed with himself. At 6 feet, 210 pounds, Dr. Crowden looked like a linebacker with spectacles. Possibly turned scholar after a knee injury.

I see. Secret negotiations, I understand. How did you become their guardian, Mr. Lee?

Mr. Roberts, their father, taught at Stanford when I was in law school and he helped me get into the State Department. We remained friends. After the accident, the instructions in the will…

"Yes, of course, tragic. Tragic crash. I’ve been looking through the records of Wayne and Susan at Saint Andrews for this last year and they seem to be very advanced children. Very bright. But they seem to have been in some trouble.

Was that your reason for transferring them to public school this year?"

Actually, it was financial. Charles had anticipated the question and was prepared. "The Government paid for the first year, for transitional purposes. But with John joining them now, three tuition’s would be too much for my salary.

And I do want to keep them together."

Ah yes, I understand. I couldn’t afford three tuitions myself. As one government employee to another, he smiled. Dr. Crowden turned a few pages in the file before him. He was about to breach the topic Charles had been waiting for. The banter up to now had been foreplay and they both knew it. About this trouble at Saint Andrew’s. A fine school, by the way. I understand children getting into fights but it seems that several of the other students had to be taken to the hospital! That’s a little dramatic for just horseplay, don’t you think?

As the report should indicate Doctor, neither Wayne nor Susan instigated the fights. They merely acted in self defense. The police report…

Yes, Mr. Lee, I have a copy of the police report. And the hospital report as well. One of the girls had to have plastic surgery from a fight with Susan. He flipped a page, Wayne broke one boys arm and another boys jaw, knocking out six teeth. That’s quite vicious.

Charles sat quietly for a moment. They both, and John too, are serious students that like to be left to their studies. I assume you have a copy of the grades?

Oh, there is no question they are bright, exceptionally bright students, but we don’t want any trouble here. I hope we don’t have a repeat of those incidents.

I hope so too, Doctor Crowden. I expect that John’s arrival will help to keep things calm. They have never been apart before. That’s one of the reasons I want them to get into and out of the eighth grade as soon as possible.

Dr. Crowden proceeded to explain that New Jersey didn’t allow children to skip grades even if they were advanced students. John was twelve and belonged in sixth grade. Susan a year younger, in fifth and Wayne in fourth. It made little difference that they had private tutoring from embassy teachers in China, where they were born. It was felt that skipping grades would be detrimental to the children emotionally. Charles had heard the same story on the phone. He had done some research and pointed out that the above rules applied to children already in the school system and the Principal could make an exception for transfer students. Dr. Crowden agreed to test the children and make his decision based on the results. Since he was going to test them anyway, he wasn’t actually agreeing to anything. All the students were periodically tested. He asked why John hadn’t come to America with the other children. Charles merely said John had independent study in Japan. But why were there no records? They were burned in a fire.

Dr. Crowden didn’t like this at all. The records showed that these kids were geniuses. Studies showed many geniuses were unbalanced. He did not want three young homicidal maniacs in his school, one of whom was probably an arsonist.

The following day, Charles picked up John at Newark Airport on his way home from New York City. John was in good spirits but quiet. Charles thought to himself on the hours drive south to Westwood how he was going to handle all this. A Chinese American, who spoke no Chinese, raising three headstrong kids who looked like they were born in Iowa. They had been born on Chinese soil because their father was stationed at the American Liaison in Beijing, and were fluent in Mandarin as well as French and Spanish. The father was sent to Beijing in 1970 to lay the groundwork for Henry Kissinger’s secret visits to establish relationships and smooth the way for President Nixon’s visit in 1972. The Liaison office became a formal Embassy in March of 1979. Charles was 31, never married, and now had an instant family. Not that the children were strangers. He visited Andrew Roberts several times over the years, on business, and had seen the three of them grow from the cradle to pre-teen. He was John’s godfather and knew they were raised to be honest and moral in a world he knew wasn’t. He knew all too well. Andrew and Marion married late in life and he was happy for them. Andrew had been given a desk job at State and was restless. On the verge of resigning when he met Marion at a Russian Embassy reception. Love at first sight and he became a new man. Thoughts of resigning faded when his bride became pregnant with John. She was concerned with having children in her thirties but when John’s birth was without complication, she had Susan a year later and finally Wayne. Her full time work, teaching the children from various English speaking Embassies, became part time as she spent more time with her own. She was determined to teach them what ever she could at the earliest age possible. She believed that even average children could be given superior minds if proper training was given early enough. She never knew what both Charles and her husband really did and left them to attend to their secret business without question. Her expressed attitude was that they were grown men playing children’s games that weren’t important in the overall scheme of things. At times, Charles thought she was right. Most of all, the two of them were happy. Until her death, when John was eight. Andrew went into a funk, he was lost without her. Then he put himself into his work, frequently bringing John with him. He knew John missed her as he did. John was a reminder for him. I look at the boy and I see Marion. He looks like her, you know, he had said to Charles. Three years later Andrew was killed in a plane crash in Manchuria, returning from a diplomatic mission in Russia. One of the few trips when he left John at home.

Charles knew John started martial arts training when he was four. Andrew felt self defense training was necessary for the children and he studied with Chan Ti years earlier and asked for a favor. The youngest student Chan Ti took was seven and they were all Chinese. Andrew knew the strong code of morals and feeling of self reliance learned at the hand of this master would serve the children for the rest of their lives. Susan and Wayne also became students when they were four but John was the best pupil. Although Wayne was the most gifted physically, John was the most determined. John worked harder than the other pupils even though Chan Ti’s compliments were few and often no more than a nod of the head. Chan Ti had chosen the school in Japan for John based on his demonstrated ability and expressed interest. Marion would have never approved but she was gone when this decision was made. This was another favor since occidentals were never accepted at this school. Chan Ti was the Grand Master of China. He was held in such esteem, that usually reserved for religious leaders, that it transcended national borders. Favors were seldom asked but always granted. The year in Japan was scheduled just before the plane crash and since all three of the children had to leave China, John elected to take the year in Japan and join the family the following year. There was no tuition involved since the school didn’t officially exist. The cover story of visiting family friends was accepted by the State Department without question.

John was quiet throughout the trip and that wasn’t like John. It must be the jet lag, Charles concluded.

Susan and Wayne were glad to see their brother but Wayne was more demonstrative. He showed John the exercise room they had made in the basement of the house. It was complete with free weights, a heavy bag for kicks and mat for he and Susan to work on throws. Since the boys were to share a bedroom, Wayne delighted in showing John the computer Charles had bought for him. It was a used one and scheduled for replacement at State so Charles got it for a fraction of its cost. It only took a small portion of the bedroom yet Wayne offered to move it out if John wanted more room. John said things were fine as they were. Wayne briefly mentioned the computer program he was writing, Dragons and Damsels but he saw that his brother was tired. He would have plenty of time to go into details later.

John went to sleep at nine. Wayne watched him for some time before he too fell asleep. His brother had changed. They all knew where he had been the last year but John only gave one word answers to their questions and this wasn’t the brother they knew. Since he wouldn’t volunteer anything about his year in Japan, they dropped the issue.

Everyone was sound asleep when John awoke at 3AM. He got up and walked around the house. Into each room, silently, except for Charles’ room, of course. No need to alarm his new step father should he awake and find John in his room. The floors were wood and he quickly memorized each spot that made a sound when he stepped. He went outside, still in pajamas and bare feet and walked the perimeter of the property. It was forty degrees but he felt no chill. He had learned to regulate his body temperature. Returning to bed, he fell quickly to sleep.

It was three long blocks to school with woods on both sides for the last block. The one story brick grammar school was across the street from the high school but a block closer to the house. The city planners wanted the schools close.

Susan and Wayne noticed John walked differently. Without sound. They exchanged looks but neither commented.

Four hours later, Mrs. Carver was in the principal’s office. I can’t believe this, Bill. All three of them. Look at these scores. She handed him the tests. Those are one hour each and nobody is suppose to finish any one of them.

So they finished the tests. I told you they were bright kids. He was looking at the results. Each of the three tests was standardized. A grade of 55 was average for sixth grade and 85 average for a high school graduate. John had 95 in verbal, 91 in math and the highest combined score. Wayne had the highest score of the three in math, 98, with a 85 in verbal but the lowest total. Susan had a 97 in verbal and 87 in math. There must be a mistake here, Dr. Crowden said.

There is no mistake. I graded each test twice. Mrs. Carver challenged. And what’s interesting is, they finished each test early. They seemed to be racing with each other to see who could finish first. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.

They must have cheated.

How? Mrs. Carver replied, They were the only one’s in the room and I was there the whole time.

In fact, neither John nor Susan considered themselves to be geniuses. Bright, yes. But that was the extent of it. They realized that their mother, a school teacher before she married, had spent a great deal of time with them when they were small. They could read before they were old enough for the first grade. The school for embassy children in Beijing was too small for formal grades. Children were taught at the level of their aptitude and abilities. Independent study was encouraged and all three were well into high school courses before their father was killed in a plane crash. Wayne and Susan used the library at St. Andrews to further their education since normal classwork was routine and boring. Wayne’s uncanny ability in mathematics was easy to recognize. The math instructor at St. Andrews spent many hours with him marveling at Wayne’s quick grasp of difficult concepts. He taught Wayne chess and by years end was resigned to losing every game. He was sorry when Wayne left. He had not only grown fond of the boy but would miss the challenge.

On Monday, the first day of school, the children reported to find they were all assigned to the sixth grade. At least they were together. The morning was routine. Picking up the assigned books at each of the three morning classes and the formality of seat assignment. Homework assignments were given and, finally, lunch at eleven thirty. Wayne and Susan knew what books they would get but John was shocked.

In the cafeteria John commented, What are we supposed to do with these? pointing to the small stack of books. Wayne smiled. Susan giggled. See spot run. Oh, look at spot run. What are they going to give us this afternoon, crayons?

We get to learn how to add two and two, Wayne said and laughed.

This is the same nonsense they started us with at St. Andrews. This afternoon, we’ll get a chance to spell three letter words, Susan added. Bear with it. As soon as the test grades hit the front office, we’ll get switched to eighth grade.

Wayne went to the bathroom after they ate. Susan was talking to one of the girls from home room and John went outside to the basketball court.

* * *

The one in the middle was in charge and did the talking. He commented that John was new here and the three of them were going to do him a favor. Since it was a rough school, they would protect him from the bad element for only five dollars a week. John declined. He explained that John could be in big trouble if he didn’t take their offer. John said he could take care of himself. The two cohorts were looking at their leader. He was becoming embarrassed.

Either you hand over the money, or we take it, he said. The boys at each side rushed foward and grabbed John’s upper arms and the leader stepped forward. John pulled back slightly to get the distance right and kicked with his right foot, snapping his ankle at the last moment for added impact. The toe hit directly in the leader’s groin. He stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open without a sound. John quickly swung his right arm in a circle breaking that grip and turned to face the boy on the left. The short kick connected with the inside knee of the boys weight bearing left leg. The pain was instant. The boy screamed and let go of John’s left arm. John turned slightly, stepped back and threw a straight right leg at the remaining opponent. Heel connected with jaw and the boy was propelled backwards. The leader was now on his knees with both hands in his crotch as though the hands could stop the pain. John took a half step forward, reminding himself to stop favoring the right foot. He started a counter clockwise spin and landed a powerful sweeping left kick to the side of leaders face. Teeth flew from the mouth as the force of the kick threw him to the pavement. John stepped towards the interior of the basketball court and turned to face his foes. He was waiting to finish anyone who got up, when a voice behind him said, What the hell is going on there?

A hand grabbed John’s shoulder and spun him around. The voice was angry and the hand powerful. John was accustomed to fighting stronger opponents, he was always the smallest in class. Go with the strength, and use your opponents own power against him. The force of the turn gave added strength to the kick which came as an automatic reflex. John’s left toe connected with the outside of the man’s right knee. John was unprepared for what he saw. A large beefy man well over six feet who yelled after the kick landed and angrily reached both hands for John’s face. John quickly dropped to the ground and laid on his back as the hands reached to the space he had just occupied. Momentum carried the man forward and John bent his right knee to his chest, cocked it, and shot the foot upwards into the mans groin. John was almost crushed when 200 pounds collapsed on top of him but quickly wrestled himself from beneath. The man was holding himself between the legs and was curled in the fetal position when John walked around him and saw Coach on the back of his sweatshirt. He turned and saw Wayne at the edge of the court, watching. John walked to him.

Not bad, but I thought you were going to be smothered.

Wayne stoically commented.

Thanks for the help, John said sarcastically.

You didn’t seem to need any, Wayne answered. I think we ought to give Charles a call. Better to get our side in before it really hits the fan. They went towards the school for a phone while a crowd of students formed on the edge of the basketball court. They met Susan on the way in, she was following the crowd out.

What’s all the commotion? she asked.

You better come with us, Wayne answered. John had to take out some of the local wise guys.

Oh, not again. she said with resignation.

Charles was away from his desk and John left a voice mail message.

John was called to Dr. Crowden’s office from his first afternoon class. He had gone to the principal’s office earlier but Dr. Crowden was out to lunch. Now John was waved into the office by the secretary and the principal ordered him to leave. Dr. Crowden was waiting for an oriental trouble maker, not an innocent looking, blond haired, blue eyed boy with good manners. He never met the Roberts trio and the files lacked pictures. In two minutes, he stormed out of the office and barked at his secretary. She merely pointed at John calmly sitting there. He was shocked but quickly composed himself and asked John in.

John briefly explained he was attacked after refusing the request for money and defended himself.

Did that include the coach? Dr. Crowden responded bitterly.

No sir. I was grabbed from behind and I didn’t know it was the coach. I’ve never seen him before, so I didn’t recognize him.

They’ve all been taken to the hospital, you know? the principal added. John was silent. I should have known you were going to be trouble. The police will be here later, so you can tell your story to them.

The classrooms were buzzing all afternoon. But none of the students approached John, his brother or sister. They were glad the three bullies got what was coming to them but it was too early to take sides.

At three thirty, John was directed to the principal’s office where he was greeted by the police. Susan and Wayne waited in the hall. John repeated his brief story to Sergeant Halon and Patrolman Sanderic. The Sergeant was coach Halon’s brother and called John a liar. He had heard a different story and wanted to know who the others were who helped John jump the three innocent kids and tried to rob them. John sat quietly. When told he was going to the police station, John asked if he was under arrest.

No, You are just going in for questioning, The Sergeant responded.

John didn’t move. I’m not going anywhere, unless you threaten to use force.

We’ll drag you out of here, if we have to, the Sergeant said. That’s what John wanted to hear and silently got up and walked towards the open door with them.

Wayne and Susan had heard the entire conversation and quickly ran around the corner as John left with the policemen. They called Charles when they got home.

At five thirty-six, Charles arrived at the Police Station and asked Sergeant Halon for copies of the paperwork. There was none. He asked to see John and was directed to a small room. Maybe you can talk some sense into him, the Sergeant added.

After a brief discussion with John, Charles went to the Sergeants desk and asked to use the phone. He already had the home phone number of the Chief of Police and called him directly. Charles agreed to have a statement from John delivered by the next day and was to receive the same from the Chief from the others in the case. He handed the phone to the Sergeant who, after listening to the Chief, told Charles to take John home.

The following day, John was sent home from school. Suspended. He called Charles and Charles called the principal. Charles explained that charges had not been filed against John and even if they had been, the matter was unresolved. If John was not reinstated, immediately, he would file charges with the U.S. Attorney for depravation of civil rights and Dr. Crowden could answer the charges in Federal Court. John went back to school.

That night John and Charles met with Chief Conivy and Sergeant Halon in the Chief’s office. John was charged with assault and battery and fingerprinted, with some pleasure, by the Sergeant. Charles got copies of the statements and noticed there wasn’t one from the coach. Where is the coach’s statement? he asked.

He has decided not to press charges, so we didn’t get a statement, the Chief said.

The medical reports?

We don’t have them yet.

Since I’m John’s legal guardian and his attorney, I request you authorize the hospital to release copies to me. I further request you obtain a statement from the coach, since he is an eye witness.

I realize you’re an attorney, Mr. Lee, but this is a misdemeanor. Not a full blown criminal case and John’s a minor. He’ll probably just get probation, The Chief responded with a look of concern.

Never-the-less, if you could call the hospital now, I would appreciate it.

The next meeting with the Chief was two nights later. Just Charles and the Chief. Charles put copies of the statements on the desk with some sections underlined in red. Please notice, all three boys’ stories are the same. As if agreed upon. He raised his hand to stop the Chief from interrupting. Please let me finish. All three said they were attacked from the back and didn’t recognize any of the attackers. They say it happened too fast. Yet the Doctor’s reports show, and Charles placed them on the desk, that all the blows were to the front. The Chief was looking from page to page. They were obviously facing whoever hit them. The Chief now had a concerned look. I understand that the three boys have been through all eight grades in this town. Does this mean that there are children in this town, roughly their own age, that they don’t know?

The Chief was reading the statements. Son-of-a-bitch! Don’t you think it’s odd, that the coach is William Halon Sr. and the ring leader is William Halon Jr. Not to mention that the arresting officer, Peter Halon, is the coach’s brother.

The Chief was angry and his blood red face showed it.

I’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t you worry, Mr. Lee. Charles suggested the Chief might want to get to the truth of this matter on his own, before it went to court. Thankful, the Chief watched Charles go before reaching for the phone.

Under personal questioning, by the Chief, the three boys told the truth. The charges were dropped. The coach was embarrassed and William Jr. showed up at school with a black eye following the week end. The boys were given probation by the Chief with the promise that formal charges would be brought if they got in trouble again. The tough part was Sergeant Halon. He refused to go to the school and apologize in front of the principal and his secretary for calling John a liar. John was insistent. Charles couldn’t argue with him considering the strong Chinese influence on saving face. After all, John was raised in China. The Sergeant would never be a friend since this involved not only pride but members of his family. Charles wanted the whole incident forgotten but was obliged to back John.

Then we will have to sue for false arrest, Charles said. We never arrested him, Sergeant defiantly responded.

Charles was waiting for that answer. You said you would take him to the police station, if you had to drag him. If he wasn’t under arrest, that is assault on a minor and that is a felony.

The Chief interrupted, Enough, you either go to the school and apologize or take two months off, without pay. The Sergeant was furious. He could not afford two months off without pay. He had no choice and he knew it. John had an enemy for life.

John was the hero of the school. Four kids offered to pay him for protection. John found the adulation amusing at first but then uncomfortable and he had no intention of taking any money. He wanted respect for his learning abilities and hard work not because he bested three bullies in the school yard. It was as though he had taken their place in the food chain. Friendship was fine but all this sucking up was for the wrong reason.

Wayne and Susan had discovered the library across the street at the high school during the summer and quickly introduced John. They borrowed books and brought them to class to read.

The English teacher, Miss Brinks, interrupted John’s quiet reading in class, to ask him a question. He looked up in response to his name. She waited. He looked.

Well, what is the answer? she finally asked.

What is the question? he calmly replied. The class broke out in laughter.

I assume you are not paying attention. She was embarrassed. He was supposed to be a bright student and she thought he had been following her in the book. I assume that you are reading something other than the text for this course. John remained silent. He looked directly at her waiting for her to continue. Well?

Well what, Mam? The class laughed again.

Answer me, when I ask a question.

Yes, Mam, I will, he said with a puzzled look. He was waiting for a question, she had made a statement. She stared.

Susan leaned over, She wants to know if you’re reading something else.

Yes, I am reading something else.

Well, satisfied that she finally got an answer, don’t you think you can learn more if you pay attention to what’s going on in class?

Absolutely not, Mam. The class broke up in laughter and cheers. John saw that this was going badly. He had to do something. I had punctuation years ago.

She walked down the aisle and put out her hand. John gave her the book. Her eyes widened as she looked at Hamlet in the original old English. You’re reading Shakespeare?

She was dumbfounded. She expected to find a comic book. John nodded. What do you think of Hamlet? she asked.

It’s an interesting story. Please don’t tell me the ending, he said without humor. This time the class laughed and she laughed with them. I won’t, she said. Turning to her side she noticed Wayne and Susan were reading something else too. The three musketeers, she thought. These three would stick together.

She stopped them from leaving after class for a chat. She liked the word chat. Fifteen minutes later they were late for the next class but had a late slip and a promise of a recommended reading list. Miss Brinks had found three students she had been waiting years for. She would introduce them to great literature.

Dr. Crowden was getting complaints at the faculty meetings. Why are those Roberts kids still in this school? They don’t belong here. The science teacher said, That little one is asking questions about material we don’t cover.

What little one? One of the others quipped, They’re all little.

Hey, if those questions are over your head, Ralph.

Ralph continued, ignoring the jeers, if I answer his questions, nobody else in class would understand the answers anyway.

Except the brother and sister, another teacher added. Anyone else having trouble, the principal asked.

Well, now that you asked, Mrs. Spens said, they purposely misspelled words in the spelling bee the other day. They said they didn’t want to be sixth grade spelling champ when they didn’t belong in sixth grade.

How about the rest of you, do they show contempt for the other students in your classes too? A few nodded yes. How are the others taking it?

The other students are pretty good about it, I think.

Mr. Jeffry volunteered. Everybody knows they had private tutors and finished sixth grade long ago. The three of them keep pretty much to themselves and don’t bother anyone.

That’s because there are no tough questions to ask in geography, Jeffry, the science teacher quipped. It was his turn to give a dig.

If there were, Ralph, at least I could answer them, he replied.

Dr. Crowden interjected, All right, let’s settle down. He waited for the murmuring to stop. I’m investigating a way to promote all three of them to eight grade in January.

Why not promote them directly to high school?

They have to graduate eight grade first, he answered.

Then graduate them in January. The history teacher would be congratulated later for his brilliant idea. Adrian Hightower is a lodge brother of mine. Let me run it by him and see if he will take them in ninth grade in January.

Adrian was the high school principal. He was told of three brilliant young students who would immediately be on the honor role in his school. Three merit scholars. The fight he had heard about was dismissed as simple rough housing. He wasn’t convinced until he was shown their test scores. That clinched it.

None of the students picked a fight with Wayne. He was usually with John and even if he wasn’t, they didn’t want John coming after them. The story of the fight, upon retelling, had become more fancy than fact. In comparison, Bruce Lee was a wimp. John was a legend even though he didn’t know it. Susan wasn’t as fortunate. One of the girls, Bea, mistakenly went after her in the girls locker room. The other girls told Bea that Susan said she was a tramp and Bea was the toughest girl in the school. They expected a hair pulling contest. However, Susan decked her with a straight right to the face in less than 2 seconds. A bloody nose and the end of the fight. The women’s coach got to the truth quickly and the matter was resolved. Susan had no more trouble.

In October, Rosebud returned home. A six month old, female German shepherd they bought as a three month old pup. She was already sixty pounds and had spent the last two months at obedience school. Attack trained and meant to guard the house. Charles often took confidential documents home from work and, besides, the kids wanted a dog. At their insistence, the training was at a Chinese obedience school. That meant Charles had to learn a few words of Chinese. The dog couldn’t understand English.

The bond between John and Rosebud came quickly and easily. John was always comfortable around animals. He trusted them and displayed affection he did not demonstrate on people. Although Rosebud (the name was Wayne’s idea) liked and responded to both Susan and Wayne, John was her favorite. She accepted Charles. She avoided the housekeeper, Rosita and would only eat food given to her by Charles or the children. Susan and Wayne could not understand why Rosebud preferred John. He was in Japan when they bought her and a stranger to him when they got her back from the school. She was their dog, not his. This wasn’t right. John explained it was the smell. The dog knew the smell of Wayne and Susan and they were all blood related, hence, they smelled alike.

But she likes me more because, I’m better looking, John added. Wayne looked up at the ceiling and Susan pretended to throw up with fingers in her mouth.

In January, they were graduated in a private ceremony in the Principals office. Dr. Crowden looked up the regulations and concluded that he could put transfers from out-of-country in any grade he chose. St. Andrews didn’t count, it is a private school. No one would object and by the time the State found out, it would be too late. He didn’t need anyone from the Justice Department, or worse yet - the IRS, looking into his personal affairs. And both Departments were only a phone call away from our State Department’s Mr. Lee. Next week they would to start high school and be out of his hair. Adrian Hightower was looking forward to his three new students. Future Rhodes scholars. Possibly Nobel prize winners. Little did he know, the next few month were going to be a living hell.

2

A drian Hightower greeted the three of them in his office. It was the first day after winter break and he wanted to meet them personally. He had done a study on gifted students in Graduate school and had a different opinion than that of Dr. Crowden. At five six inches, he did not live up to his last name but he was bright, dynamic and looking to make a name for himself in education. He was only 33 and the principal for a year and a half. He expected to be Superintendent of Schools in another two years, if all went well. Although premature balding gave him some personal discomfort, he knew it made him look older. Old enough to be Superintendent. And perhaps a State position in Education. But then, one thing at a time.

Well, I’m glad to meet you, he said and shook each hand in turn. I understand you are well acquainted with our library and frankly, I’m impressed. John, Susan and Wayne stood quietly. It’s unusual to find students so motivated to learn that they seek extra material for self study. I want to welcome you to Westwood High and if there is anything I can do to help your studies, please let me or Mrs. Lindsey know. He shook their hands again and escorted them to the door.

Mrs. Lindsey, the Assistant Principal, was waiting for them in the outer office. She was a pleasant woman of 40, happy to be Assistant Principal after suffering teacher burn out four years ago. She turned down the Principal’s job when it was offered. She wanted no more stress and could always turn to Adrian for difficult decisions. He didn’t mind. It was already agreed that the three kids would be in the same classes and the only elective they had to choose was a foreign language. John and Susan wanted French but Wayne picked German.

Why German? John asked.

The Germans are years ahead in computers and in mathematics, too. Wayne responded. You even hear of a French rocket scientist.

Are you interested in rockets? Mrs. Lindsey asked.

Susan answered for him, He’s just trying to be clever, Mrs. Lindsey.

Oh. She had no idea what they were talking about but proceeded to check the schedules so the French and German periods would match. You should check with the teachers to be sure you won’t be too far behind in French or German. She gave them the room numbers on separate small slips of paper. And then go to your home room.

As they were walking down the hall, Susan said, No French rocket scientists, really.

Wayne turned to John, Did you ever hear of Marcel Von Braun?

Yes, John said, he runs a Mexican restaurant. One plate of his refried beans, and you become a rocket.

Wayne laughed. Susan said, You two are as funny as a crutch. Ho, Ho.

Susan explained to Ms. Poe, the French teacher, what they were there for. Mrs. Poe smiled but appeared concerned. Do you speak any French?

Yes, Susan replied in perfect Parisian, our mother taught us. She thought it was an elegant language. One that all civilized people should speak.

Ms. Poe was surprised at the lack of accent. Your French is excellent, young lady. Noticing that John was silent, I assume your French is as good?

John was annoyed at his sister. She was sucking up as he saw it. Miss Goody two shoes. He walked to the desk and picked up the French lesson book. Opening it to a chapter in the back, he proceeded to read in the dialect of Marseille that he had learned from his father. The English equivalent of a Brooklyn dock worker. Paul was walking down the street. He was hungry and wanted to find a restaurant that was open. He didn’t have much money and only the expensive restaurants were open this early.

Ms. Poe was shocked. When John looked up, her eyes were as round as silver dollars and her jaw slack. She stared at him in disbelief.

Susan switched to Chinese to address John, Real funny. You’re just filled with jokes today. I’m trying to create a good impression and here you are, Mr. no class.

John responded in Chinese, "At least I’m not kissing up.

What did you plan next for us? Shining her shoes."

I’m just trying to show her we are serious, not just clods, she responded.

We? Civilized people? Come on, give me a break, John continued. You must have had a tough time at St. Andrews to start polishing apples the first day here. Don’t you remember, our abilities used to speak for us. The fact that we studied. We never had to shovel it on before. Why are you doing it now?

Ms. Poe was dumbstruck. Her head was going back and forth between these two as though she was watching a miniature tennis match. They were arguing, she knew that much by the tone, but she didn’t understand a word.

Maybe I just like her. Maybe I just want a friend.

This, John got. He softened up. There’s nothing wrong with that but you could be more subtle. It’s a little embarrassing seeing you come on so strong. It makes it look as though I’m supposed to do the same thing.

When did you ever do the same thing? Susan said. She had softened too.

OK, a truce. You ignore my little jokes, instead of jumping down my throat and I’ll ignore it when you suck up?

You mean being friendly, she said with a smile.

What ever you say, my dear, he replied with a smile.

They turned to look at Ms. Poe, still in shock. They noticed the room was empty of students, she obviously did not have a homeroom. We have to go now, Susan said in English. They both left for the homeroom and Ms. Poe stood staring at the door.

The morning was routine and they ate lunch together. The second afternoon class was gym and neither John nor Wayne was picked for any of the basketball teams. Wayne asked the coach if he and John could shoot some baskets by themselves. Both courts were filed, the coach said. Wayne said they would shoot at the outside court. The coach gave them a ball and told them to come back inside when they got cold. It was thirty degrees outside, he knew they wouldn’t last long. Actually, Wayne knew that John never learned how to play basketball and he could teach him better outside. Wayne learned at St. Andrews and was a good foul shooter but not a good player. He was too short. John was a quick learner. Years of martial arts training had developed uncanny eye and hand coordination. At the end of thirty minutes, he could sink ten of ten from the foul line but was less accurate from the side. Wayne showed him some of the offensive and defensive moves. He continued cautioning John against carrying the ball, that is, moving it horizontally with your hand instead of bouncing it directly downwards while walking.

If you ever get in a game, Wayne said, shoot the ball when you get it. Don’t even try to dribble.

The coach opened the door a half hour later and called them in. He was astounded. They were still in shorts and tee shirts and showed no signs of being cold. Very strange.

That night John and Wayne watched the Celtics beat the Bulls on television with Wayne explaining the referees calls. John was ready for the next days game. A rather senseless sport, he thought, but new and worth trying for that reason alone. Next week he would locate the instructor referred to him in Japan. Combat, one to one, was far more interesting and certainly more challenging.

The next day, John was the last one picked on the last team. Wayne was the only one left on the sidelines. Wayne was glad. He didn’t want to play anyway and he did want to watch his brother. Several points had been scored and John hadn’t so much as touched the ball. His teammates weren’t passing it to him. Finally, he was given the ball because he was the only one open. John judged the distance and with both feet planted, tried an overhead one hand shot. One of the defenders crashed into him just as the ball left his right hand. Both of them fell to the floor and the ball fell short. John got up and went to the foul line.

What are you waiting for? said one of the defenders, dribbling by him.

That was a foul, John responded.

That’s right, said Wayne from the sideline, he gets one and one.

Wake up, kid. There’s no referee here, so there’s no fouls. The boy continued to dribble to half court and started back in towards the basket.

No fouls, John said and quickly moved in front of the dribbler. The boy stopped and leaped in the air for a jump shot. John waited until the boy was at the top of his jump and buried a powerful right fist into his stomach. The jumper collapsed on the floor doubled up. His teammates yelled. John’s team stood shocked as John went for the ball, retrieved in and dribbled towards the middle of the court.

One of the boys confronted John. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? John stopped, holding the ball in both hands. Gimme that ball! he said and came at John. The basketball flew at him, hit him square in the face and knocked him backwards.

The coach had been reading a book, sitting in the stands when he heard the commotion. Quick to his feet, he got to the court just as the ball bounced off the boys face. Enough. You, pointing to John, over here. He waited for John to walk off the court and sent Wayne in to take his place. Wayne was less than happy. Seeing the boy who had been punched in the stomach get up, the coach asked the closest player what happened. He punched him when he was going up for a jump shot.

All right, help him off the court. He motioned Wayne to the side. Play with four and I don’t want any more trouble or you’ll all do laps.

The coach sat with John in the bleachers, too far away for Wayne to hear. You’re a transfer student here, right?

John nodded. How old are you, anyway?

Almost thirteen.

You don’t belong here.

You’re right, John said, I belong in college.

Oh, you’re the ones. That your brother over there? he said nodding in Wayne’s direction. You want to tell me what happened? He listened as John explained. Well sometimes the guys get a little rough out there but punching is out. Understand?

How about tripping? John said.

No. No tripping.

How about banging into someone so hard that you knockthem over?

You ever played basketball before?

No.

Do you do much in the way of sports?

Swimming. I’m a good swimmer.

We don’t have a pool, the coach responded. How about gymnastics or track?

I’ve done some tumbling and trampoline. For balance. And some running for endurance.

Maybe team sports isn’t your thing. The coach paused, trying to figure the best way to say it. We have a good quarter mile outdoor track, if you’re interested. We do some wrestling and tumbling in here in about two months.

That sounds good, said John with a smile, can my brother run with me?

The coach couldn’t believe his ears. What was punishment to the others, John was volunteering for. There would be no more trouble. You bet, and I have some extra sweats for you both if you need them.

After lunch, John wanted to walk the grounds and see the arrangement of all the facilities. Wayne, of course, stayed close. The 2 story brick building is mostly rectangular with the gym attached in the rear. The football field is directly behind the school and the track and baseball fields to the right. A large campus that easily held the 600 students from Westwood and the adjacent town of Garfield. Westwood is a predominantly white middle class town with an equal mix of white and blue collar. Garfield is similar with an absence of blacks, Orientals and Hispanics but is mostly blue collar. Both towns are virtually all single family dwellings with little room for industrial use. A few commercial stores but that’s about it. Any real shopping has to be done in the county seat of Elizabeth, 8 miles away, or Newark, 20 miles north. Or any of the shopping malls that have recently spring up on Route 22.

Both boys hit the library at the days end. Susan checked out the Home Ec club, a good place to meet other girls.

Wayne checked out 2 books on differential calculus and John perused the selection of Chaucer and Dickens. The ones he wanted were out, so they left. And got no farther than 200 feet from the front door to find five guys waiting for them, blocking the sidewalk.

OK, smartass. You don’t have the coach here to protect you now. Sooo, and he looked to his cohorts on each side, I’m going to kick your ass. It was the boy John hit in the face with the basketball that was doing the talking. He wasn’t the biggest but still out weighted John by 50 pounds.

John said they should go to the edge of the school building to talk this over and he and Wayne walked across the grass. They had to follow. They could still be seen from the street but this was only part one of the plan. I see you brought a lot of help with you. And then John smiled. A mocking smile.

Hey, I don’t need no help to take you. They’re just here to watch. Maybe learn a couple of things. And he laughed.

John dropped his books, turned and walked towards the back of the building, there was a protected corner between the school building and the attached gym.