A Comedy of AR's (Book 2)

Chapter 6
CHAPTER 206 .......... Head On

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Chapter Description: 2 new pictures added 4/3/24 Images for this story can be found at the following web...... https://sites.google.com/view/comedy-ars-characters/home

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CHAPTER  206

We were already thinking about lunch in first period Math.  Mr. Victum had us drooling half way through his lesson.

 

“Okay, kids.  If you want to feed an average of three pieces of chicken to each student in the seventh grade, how many ten-piece buckets of chicken will the cafeteria need to buy?”

 

That was easy.   Since there were 120 students in our grade, we would need 360 pieces … and  divided by 10 equals 36 buckets of chicken … And sure enough, those 36 buckets were waiting for us when we ran to the cafeteria for lunch.

 

Their estimate may have been a little off since a lot of the girls ate only two pieces, while the guys at our football table had four or five pieces each … and Goro and Big-O each had six.

 

Because of the chicken menus, some of the teasing from Gentle Puberty Day carried over into Friday.  Randy and Showkat glided by Maddie and Hoshi’s table with the crude remark, “Hello, ladies … We just stopped by to admire your breasts.  They appear quite succulent today.”

 

Maddie sassed back, “Yeah, and us girls can’t stop staring at your boys’ chicken legs.  It’s a wonder how you can be football players.”

 

Near the end of lunch I was stuffed, although I have to admit, I hogged the drumsticks, my favorite.  Then the crew of cafeteria ladies all came out to make a big announcement.

 

“By special request from the president of your class, Derrek Adams, we proudly present for the first time … a special treat which will be free of charge today only … This is a great moment in school lunch history … Can we hear a drum roll please?

 

A great rumble dominated the room as every student pounded on his table.

 

“You asked for it.  You got it.  Come up and get your TOFFEE BARS!”

 

Chills went up and down my spine.  I never expected this to be such a dramatic moment watching my classmates in a stampede to grab toffee bars. 

 

Some patted me on my back.  “Great job, Derrek!”

 

I almost felt guilty for being so popular.  And the cafeteria ladies nailed it.  They got the hard chocolate layer on the top.  And of course, the only real way to eat a toffee bar was to turn it upside down and let the chocolate flavor settle on your tongue.

 

My teammates, especially, were effusive in their praise of me, as if it was my own money that brought them all this KFC chicken  and toffee bars.

 

“You da’ man, Derrek!” Goro said with a fist bump.

 

It was almost embarrassing to be ‘loved’ this much by so many people.  All I did was write down the word ‘Penis’ … and then honors and riches came pouring our way.

 

Captain X warned us, “You guys better digest this meal quickly.   Genghis Kahn will be waiting for us at four o’clock.”

 

 

 

My teammates and I were all stuffed, but it didn’t mean we weren’t going to charge onto the field and give the Genghis Kahn boys a taste of what it’s like facing an undefeated juggernaut. 

 

Putz and I continued to run the ‘hook and ladder’ play to perfection.  We both knew that it would be harder to run this play in the future when teams caught on, but as long as nobody cared to scout us, it was a surprise to our opponents every week.

 

I also ran my special defensive play where I bait the quarterback by stooping down low and waiting for him to throw to a receiver coming across the middle of field.  Then, at the last second, I dive for the ball and try to grab it with my left hand as if I were a baseball player with a glove.

 

I tried it again late in the third quarter after we had already built up a sizeable lead on Genghis Kahn Middle School.  The opposing receiver on the right side cut around behind me and was running toward the center of the field.  I took off in pursuit and could see that the quarterback was setting up to throw the ball in his direction.

 

I made my dive toward the ball, but didn’t notice that we had company.  The other receiver on the left side also thought the ball was meant for him.  We both dove at the same time and crashed head-on into each other’s helmets, leaving both of us stopped dead in our tracks on the ground.

 

Putz came by and offered me a hand to bring me back to a standing position.  “You okay, Derrek?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, fine,” I replied.  (But that was not true.)

 

In a way, time was almost standing still for me.  Our heads came together so violently, that I felt like one of the cartoon characters who get conked on the noggin and then has little birdies flying in a circle around his head.

 

I knew that head-on collisions could injure a person’s neck, so I check myself out by twisting my neck forward, backward, and around … Good, no pain, my neck felt fine.

 

When I got back to our defensive alignment, I continued walking … among and past the Genghis Kahn players who were puzzled by what I was doing.  Mentally, I was sort of there, and sort of not there.  I was never unconscious, but I did have a headache. 

 

Then a black man trotted up near me and said, “Adams, are you alright?”

 

For a second, I wondered ‘Who’s Adams?’, but I kept walking.  Then the black man told me, “Take a seat on the bench.  You probably got your bell rung.”

 

I was headed to sit down anyway.  My bell?  Does he mean the helmet?  I’ll take it off, but I don’t know why I was wearing it.  Then I looked around and wondered where my car was.  The whole setting seemed unfamiliar.  I was watching a football game but I didn’t know where or why.

 

Then, after a few more plays, the black man jogged back to me again.  “Adams, are you okay?”

 

I explained to him, “I’m not Adams.  My name is Derrek Hamlish and I’m supposed to be delivering food orders … and why is my voice so high?”

 

Then he put his hand in front of my face and asked, “How many fingers am I holding up?”

 

This was starting to get really annoying.  I knew he was holding up three fingers, but instead of answering, I held up my middle finger, flipping him the bird, and asked, “How many fingers am ‘I’ holding up? … and why is my voice so high?”

 

Then some woman jumped between us.  She put her hand on the man’s shoulder and told him, “Let me handle this, Coach.  Go back.  The team needs you.”

 

Then she got down on one knee and looked up at me.  “Sweety, I saw the collision.  Tell me what’s going on.  Where do you hurt?”

 

“Sweety?” I mused.  “Who are you?”

 

“Derrek, look at me.  I’m your mom, Sammantha Adams.”

 

I did look at her.  I looked at her twice and replied, “Oh, so you’re Adams.  But you’re not my mom.  That’s bullshit.  My mom is a drunken loser … and god dammit, why is my voice so high?  Did I injure my throat, too?”

 

“Derrek, right now, I’m helping your mom … just filling in.  So please tell me what is hurting?”

 

I decided to answer her.  “I’m a bit dizzy, like the ground is moving forward and back. And there’s a sharp pain at the back of my head … like a stinger on a nerve,  or someone is using a hammer to pound a pointed chisel on one spot over and over.”

 

“Sweety, what’s the last thing you can remember?”

 

“Again with the ‘sweety’?  I was in my car delivering food orders.  That’s what I do for a living, if you want to actually call it a living.  I deliver fast food and groceries … And why the hell would I need you as a mommy if I’m 28 years old?”

 

I put both of my hands against the sides of my head and grumbled, “I know what’s going on.  This is a dream.  It’s a nightmare.  Dreams always seem real. .  This has to be a nightmare, so maybe if I smack my face a few times, I’ll wake up.”

 

“Derrek no, you’re not dreaming.”

 

That’s exactly what a person in a dream would tell me…. Maybe I should try throwing some water on my face.  What I need now is to get a bottle of water and splash it on my face.”

 

“NO!!  You can’t do that, Derrek!”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because you’ll turn into a baby.  You have a water curse from the government Black-Ops that causes you to age-regress whenever ordinary water touches your skin.  I am not lying to you, Derrek.”

 

Whomever this woman was, she was getting annoying.  I asked, “Is there a difference between lying and bullshit?”

 

“Derrek, listen.  I’m a clinical psychologist.  I have experience with this.  You have amnesia caused by a concussion.  I can help you.”

 

I still wasn’t buying it.  “Oh yeah?  Well, maybe I had amnesia before the concussion and now I’m back to normal.  Maybe this is reality.  And where’s my car for Christ’s sakes?”

 

“Your car is at the apartment.  Maybe we should go back there now.”

 

“The apartment where I live?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What floor, and what did you say your name was?”

 

“Sammantha Adams.  You live on the fifth floor.”

 

I nodded.  “Okay, let’s go.”

 

When we both stood up, I was taken aback by the size of the woman.  I asked, “What are you, an Amazon?  What the heck?  Are you like seven feet tall?”

 

“No, I’m 5 foot 8.”

 

“Then how tall am I?”

 

“You’re 5 foot 2.”

 

”WHAT??!!!  That’s just insane!  You can’t tell me I’m no bigger than a child!  How could I lose nearly a foot in height?  Sammantha, I don’t like you.  What are you hiding?”

 

“I’ll tell you in the car, Derrek.  Let me inform the coach that we’re leaving.”

 

“The coach?  Is that the black guy that I gave the finger to?”

 

“I wish you hadn’t done that.”

 

 

The woman who called herself Sammantha led me back to the parking lot of a building that I figured was a school.  She opened the passenger door to a Porsche and I got in and shut the door.

 

“Nice wheels,” I complemented.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“You must be rich.”

 

“A clinical psychologist makes a decent buck.”

 

“Do you have a mirror on my side.”

 

“Just pull down the visor.”

 

I pulled it down and flipped up the little latch with a built in light.  I started to choke.  I nearly vomited.

 

“OH MY GOD! … OH MY GOD!   I AM a little kid.  That’s why my voice is so high!  How could this happen?  I’m a FREAK!  Who did this to me?!”

 

The woman in the driver’s seat cast a glance in my direction.  “I did,” she replied.

 

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