Week 1 of obstacle course.

Sunday.

Sunday was a day of rest, and there were no activities planned. Other than the A+ team doing the flag ceremony, and the constant barrage of swordfights going on around the camp, the only other thing to do consisted of church for those who wanted to go, food and eating, and of course the meeting that Allen was trying to get better organized. Cindy fought in no less than 20 duels by noon. She won only 2 but she was improving. Her curves were firming up, and she had tan angles on her face and arms. Allen had never noticed anybody to get such good muscle tone so quickly. Allen had 10 combat opportunities, and he won 8. He was doing much better now that his muscles were stronger, and his reflexes seemed to quicken. When they weren’t dueling someone else, they were practicing with each other. Cindy was getting better with the dual wield method as well, and her only limitations seemed to be her strength and stamina, and those were increasing by leaps and bounds. She was constantly working on them both. Rachael showed Allen the proper way to massage arms and shoulders so that he could help her improve at an exponential rate. Allen would be the first to admit that he liked giving massaging her arms. He would take every opportunity given to be close to her, to touch her. And when she closed her eyes as he caressed her arms with his rugged hands he was in heaven. He was more aware of the cameras now than ever before. He spent a great deal of time shooting them with his fingers and saying “Bang.” And giving his over exaggerated winks. He’d fallen hard for Cindy, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet. The longer he waited to kiss her the more apprehensive he was to the idea. He needed to find some private time away from the cameras so he could let himself go. Or maybe he needed to distance himself from her altogether. He didn’t want to of course, but he needed to make the next cut so that he was set for the rest of the show. He should be able to make enough money to pay for a semester or two if he made the cut. He was at a loss for what to do. He wished he could call his grandpa and talk with him for a while, but that was out of the question. He had a feeling he was going to fall into an old groove and mess everything up like he usually did.

Todd and Allen got into a duel with each other. Allen knew that no one would try to take on Todd, so he wanted to practice with the best of them. Todd toyed with him for a while, but then he noticed that when Allen brought his A game from the beginning, he was a different kind of foe. Once again, the crowds and the cameras came in on them. This contest took place in the middle of the day, so the camera wasn’t as friendly. The harsh shadows cast by the sun made for crappy video. Not to mention the fact that it was hot, and the sun was pounding down on both of them relentlessly. The dirt and dust in the air clung to the perspiration on their skin and clothing like it was attracted there by some magical force and blurred their vision. Within a minute they were both completely wet with perspiration. Allen’s paracord handles gave him a great grip on his weapons, and Todd’s slippery lacquered handle did little to aid him. Todd was about to give in and throw in the towel when Allen started to quickly fade. Once again Allen’s stamina, or lack thereof, was the reason for his defeat. This time Todd saw it coming earlier, and he had less to prove so when Allen was unable to block one of his shots, he poked him in the soft belly just beneath his ribs. It caused Allen to say “OOOF.” But that and his pride were the extent of his injuries. This time when Allen was defeated, he left on his own power after a handshake. They were both breathing heavily, but Allen had a cough again to go along with it.

“One of these times, I’m gonna beat you.” Allen professed.

“You would have won this time if you didn’t crap out all of the sudden.” Todd admitted.

Allen considered that for a minute. “Really?” he asked at last in between his labored breaths. Neither of them took off the arm bands, so they were both ready to duel again.

“Yeah. I was just about to give up.” Todd added.

Allen hadn’t even considered that. He began thinking of what he could do to conserve energy during a battle. He thought that breathing was the key. His Dad used to tell him that to be a good athlete you needed to be a good breather. He remembered at the time, thinking that his dad was some kind of senile old man, until he explained. He usually used an example of cars to show his point. This time was no different.

“So, you have a car with a 426. And you let the air filter get all plugged with dust and bugs and spider webs and stuff. Well, your powerful engine can’t breathe. Now you run your car for 5 minutes twice a day for a year or so. Your exhaust can’t escape your car too well cause your catalytic converter starts to get plugged. Now your powerful engine might as well be a Chevy engine.” Dad was always a Mopar freak. “Then you sell your car to somebody who likes horsepower. He takes off the 2 barrel carburetor and puts on a pair of 4 barrel carbs. He takes off the crappy air filter and puts on a couple K&N filters. He cuts the stupid catalytic converter off and sells it to a buddy. He puts on a big intake manifold and a big exhaust manifold and a pair of 3-inch pipes. He throws that crappy factory muffler in the trash and puts on a couple Flowmasters. And just because he wants it to breath as best as it can without forcing air in, he ports the intake and exhaust. Now, that car that you used to have, can breathe. Now it has the horsepower that God intended it to have. It becomes a tire smoking, ground poundin, hot rod. All it needs now is some better tires and wheels and a splash of paint.”

Allen missed his dad. But he thought of his advice more frequently than before. What he needed was some endurance. He decided to do endurance training whenever possible. He was no athlete, but he wanted his lungs to think he was. He decided to drop and do fifty pushups. When he got to 30, he decided to do 35 instead. He was in worse shape than he thought. Sheer determination drove him past his limits of 35 to 40 though, and then he pushed himself further to 45. Then he thought that he might as well get the full 50 in, but he could only get 48. He tried for several seconds without moving before he threw in the towel. Then he lay in the dirt for a couple of minutes panting, and then did the other 2. His arms were going to hurt tonight and tomorrow he knew, but he did it. When he stood up, he saw Danny giving him the thumbs up. He gave him both barrels and said “bang” as he looked at the lens of the camera. Then he threw in a characteristic wink to go with it for good measure.

When he arrived at the chow hall there was a gathering of the pirates there. Allen sat on one of the benches out front, and out of the sun, and watched as some of the other combatants had a few battles. The muffled clackety clack of the swords put goose bumps down his sweaty spine. He reminisced about having these glorious battles with his brothers that seemed to last for hours, but they were usually over in 20 minutes or less. The only thing missing was that his battles with his brothers were a free for all. Todd must have been thinking along the same lines. When there was a lull in the action Todd took the opportunity to say something to the group.

“When we get out on the sea it will be us vs them. We will go into each fight with a level playing field and come out of each battle victorious.” Todd started. There were cheers of approval from the crowd when he announced his prediction. Allen watched his new friend from the heat of the shade. “Until we get to the ocean we need to practice and hone our skills like we would hone a blade. It takes hard work to get to the top of the heap. Anybody who has ever tried to climb a sand hill knows that by the time you reach the top you’ve climbed it 3 times. The sand keeps slipping under your feet and inhibiting your progress.” There were voices of agreement when he mentioned this. Allen thought about a time when he was at The Little Sahara Desert in Utah. (Jericho sand dunes.) And doing just that. “In order for us to give our peak performance it’s essential to push ourselves beyond limits that we aren’t even aware of yet.” Allen’s muscles hurt so bad that he cringed at the thought of working out beyond his limits. “We must compete against our friends to be better equipped to compete against our foes. We have been divided in to 2 teams. You can think of football practice if it helps you. You are on the same team, but you are competing against your own team to get better against your foes. When you think you can’t go any further you need to ask yourself if you’ve given all you’ve got. If the answer is no… then you need to keep going. Dig deep down and find whatever it is that drives you. You won’t be happy with second best if you didn’t give it your best.” Allen thought this was very reminiscent of his talk with his friends the other day during the 5-mile run.”

“I won’t be happy with second place no matter what.” London repeated. When Allen thought about it, he noticed marked improvement with his friend London. He seemed to be taking the ideal and making it part of his life. He would probably also define his life as things that happened before Pirate, and after.

“Well then, let’s get to work.” Todd concluded.

Allen found Sara and gave her another list of supplies.

“What’s it for?” She asked.

“A team building exercise. We will be triumphant. Do you think we can have it tomorrow?” Allen asked.

“No, but I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

Just then Debby came through camp. She was talking to most of the guys and being all chummy. Allen thought about his relationship with Cindy and decided to steer clear of her when possible. They weren’t really going together or anything, and he was just friends with Debby, but he didn’t want to spoil his relationship with her. He would be the first to admit that he really knew very little about women.

Debbie was talking about the commercials, and the sampling characteristics and dynamics of advertising for your audience. He had no idea what any of that meant, but it sounded like a good idea for some reason, so he nodded his head as she explained it.

“And there’s the shining star.” Debby said as she noticed Allen. He actually looked behind him expecting to see Todd or at least see who the shining star was. When he saw there was no one behind him he felt like a fool, but he decided to make like he was joking or something. He turned back with a grin, and winked at one of the cameras that was directed at him.

“What up yo?” Allen asked Debby. She wasn’t expecting that from him, so she started to giggle. It was the kind of girlie giggle that seemed fake. Allen didn’t know if she was teasing him or not. She came over to him and gave him an awkward hug. She stood on one leg and bent the other at the knee. Allen had his eyebrows crunched together as she did it, and he was suddenly painfully aware that the cameras were going to show all this. He felt awkward but he went along with it like you would if your little sister was trying to impress her friends. He had an instant smile as she pulled away and she could see his face.

“Just the man I came to see.” Debby announced which caused his face to flush.

This felt like a trap for sure. He tried to keep his distance from her as she spoke to him, but she kept moving in close. The next thing he knew he was up against the bench that he was sitting at earlier. He decided to sit down. She spun and sat next to him, and Cindy came to sit on the other side of him and slid her arm around him and caressed his shoulder. He blushed further and grabbed Cindy’s knee, and then blushed more. He was going to catch fire soon if he kept going at this rate. His face felt like it was glowing.

“So, we set up cameras in the bars, clubs, and college hang outs that have televisions in them, and we recorded the reactions of the audience as they witnessed the commercials. We wanted to maximize the qualities that make the show great, and minimize the things that people don’t react well to.” She explained. That’s when he realized that he hadn’t been paying attention earlier.

“What’s that got to do with me?” Allen asked naively.

“You, Allen Bennett, are what they want to see.” She exclaimed.

“I wasn’t even in the commercial.” Allen declared. “I know, because I looked.”

Debby just laughed, and Cindy just sat and fumed at how fake Debby was.

“Oh, well we show more clips from stuff that’s just from your school in these places, and it’s more up to date.”

“How up to date?” Cindy asked, but there was a crowd forming around them. People were pushing their way in to earshot of the conversation.

“We showed Allen get beat by Todd. That’s going to be in every commercial from now on I think.” Debby continued. “The entire state of Utah wants to be your friend Allen. And they don’t even know your name.”

Allen just sat there and absorbed the information with a blank look. It was like a dream state. There’s nothing real in reality TV he thought. But that was real. The fight was real. The pain was real. Maybe that’s why the people loved it. It sure hurt to make though.

“I brought footage of the crowd reactions and a split screen of what they were watching. It will help you to be what they want you to be.” Debby said.

“What about just being ourselves, and if they like us, then they watch. The problem with being fake is that people see right through it.” Cindy added. Debby was oblivious to her meaning though, and she plodded onward.

“We also have some footage of interviews with class mates from people who have been in the same class as most of you, and from some of the teachers as well. You’ll find it all quite interesting I think. Or at least entertaining.” Debby said. “And Allen, your theater teacher told us about your report.”

Allen blushed again. He was sure he knew which report it was if it was from theater. How many teachers really remember their students? Allen knew he wasn’t anything special, he was just a guy mucking his way through school. Working at Pizza Hut. Studying hard and eating ramen. He remembered what his Dad once told him. “If you want to see what kind of impression you are gonna leave, put your hand in a bucket of water. When you pull it out, take a look at the impression that you left.” Somehow, Allen thought that he might be an exception to that rule if people wanted to be his friend. He had already left an impression.

“Allen turned in a report to his theater class… Oh my God you just have to see the interview.” Debby said, and she took most of the crowd in to the back of the building where there were several big screen televisions set up. She cued the footage of Christine (The attractive thirty something judge with 2 brown dots in her eye) interviewing Mr. Flanders.

“Tell me about Allen Bennett.” She asked. Mr. Flanders started to laugh.

“Well, he will do anything for extra credit. He doesn’t need extra credit, but he likes to have it for some reason.” Flanders began. Allen noted that he liked to get extra credit early on so that if he needed to spend more time on something from another class then he could. “And I was giving extra credit if the students tried out for the pirate production. Well he was about the only one that did. And as luck would have it, he got the part. Which gave him more extra credit.”

“What’s so special about Allen?” Christine asked.

“Well,” Mr. Flanders began to laugh before he could even start the explanation.

Allen was sure he knew the report he was referring to now. Come to think of it, he got extra credit for it.

“Well, the class was instructed to do a report on a theatrical performance.” Flanders began, “They were supposed to go watch a play or whatever and support the arts. Whether it was here, or wherever. Well,” he laughed.

“Well, Allen asked if he could give a report on something he had already seen in the past, because he was on a tight budget.” Mr. Flanders laughed again. “So, I said it would be alright. I was under the impression that he had some culture. You know. Since he already saw a theatrical performance.”

“Go on.” Christine prodded. The frustration noticeably welled up inside her.

“Well, when I read the report I got such a kick out of it that I made him read it in front of the class.” Flanders continued, albeit slowly.

“What was it about Dr. Flanders?” Christine prompted. The tension in the air thickened. Even for Allen. And he knew what the report was about. Mr. Flanders didn’t correct her about the doctor mistake, and instead he laughed some more before telling her.

“He wrote the report on a WWE match that he saw.” Flanders finished. Allen was still mortified. “It was a good report too. I gave him extra credit for creativity.”

Allen got a couple of pats on the back, and handshakes and all. He wasn’t as mortified since it turned out to be funny. His blushing didn’t end though.

She showed a few more interviews and crowd reactions with different fans. Then she had several tailors come in and start measuring everybody for some pirate gear while the videos showed in the background. Apparently, they needed to have the pirate costumes custom made so that they would have markers and things on them for sword fights, and CGI. Debby didn’t explain much about it though. It didn’t matter anyway. Everybody was photographed, and measured. Shupe made some comments about them measuring him for a tux, or a coffin. He always seemed very at ease. Allen discovered that he was very popular at the school with the other students. At least it seemed that way from the interviews and crowd reactions. He had friends that he didn’t even know.

When everybody met at the barracks after flag, Allen spoke briefly about having test anxiety. He had it bad for his first year at the U. He remembered failing frequently until the class that taught him how to learn. It was a good class that Allen thought should’ve been taught in grade school so he could have used the information for his whole school life. He thought he was just dumb or something, which made it even more difficult to learn.

“Anyway,” Allen said. “So in this class we had to take like 2 or 3 tests every day. They had a couple of tough questions on them, but for the most part the questions were easy to answer. And, you took so many tests that you got over your test anxiety.” Allen knew he would have to get better at making speeches. He never wanted to be a leader. He didn’t know how. He would have to think of what his Dad would say.

His group understood what he was saying, but he nearly forgot to say why he told the story in the first place. “So, if you’re afraid of failing when you go in to a sword duel, just do your very best. Look at what your opponent is doing. See what each person does while you watch them from the sidelines as they fight someone else. And then imagine what you could do to counter his attack. Imagine what you can do to dodge, parry, jump, or evade his attack. And imagine how you can break his defenses. Practice feinting, parrying, blocking, fighting. And try to always keep your eyes open. You can’t fight an enemy you can’t see.”

There were nods of approval, and murmurings of approval.

Some of the group laughed when he said this so Brandon chimed in. “He’s right. I took fencing when I was a kid. I never got any good at it because we had a full array of video games that I‘d rather play. But I remember my teacher telling me that I could be great if I could keep my eyes open instead of flinching so early, and so often.”

During the speeches Cindy sat and wound Para cord around her sword handles. When she got finished the handles were a bit too big for her liking so she patiently took off the cord and sanded the handles down to make them smaller, and have finger indentations like Allen had. By the time the meeting was over she was nearly done. Allen went over to help her when he saw what she was doing.

“That was a pretty good meeting.” Allen stated. “You probably should have paid more attention.”

Cindy got, a stern look on her face, but she didn’t look up from her work. “I was paying attention. I can multitask better than you.” When she said the last part, she looked up at him and her face brightened with a slight smile on it. She looked great when she smiled. Allen was probably more distracted by her appearance than she was by working on her swords. But her comment caught him off guard and he was somewhat upset by it.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked finally after he composed himself. He couldn’t stay mad at her.

She went back to modifying her handles as she spoke. “Well, you have ADHD, and OCD. Not a great combo by the way. And you have to focus intensely on everything, or you won’t get it.”

Allen knew he had ADHD, but he didn’t even know what OCD was. It must be bad. He would find out later. He didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Cindy. He decided to test the waters a bit. “What makes you think I have OCD?” he asked. Todd started to laugh at something, so Allen turned to see if he was mocking him. He turned out to be laughing at something Shupe had done. They were all laughing now, and Shupe was doing his Karate Kid impressions. Standing on one foot with his hands up to his sides, and his leg in front of him with his knee bent.

“Well, mostly because you do everything exactly the same way every time. But also because you do little things like say what your thoughts are without even noticing it. And you put your hands on the pommels of your swords all the time. Probly more than a thousand times a day.” When she said the last part he took his hands off of the pommels of his swords. They gently swayed back to a neutral point when he took his hands off them. It seemed to verify what she was saying, although he still didn’t know what OCD was, he was sure that he had it now, and he hoped it wasn’t fatal.

“Probably.” He corrected her absently, and she began to laugh.

“You count stairs as you ascend and descend them, and you have to have everything laid out just so.” She concluded at last.

“How do.” Allen began, but then he changed what he was going to say. “What makes you think I count stairs?” he asked.

“Because you do.” She stated flatly as she set down the sword she was working on. She knew him better than he thought she did. He did count stairs. He had been counting stairs so long that he didn’t even think about it anymore.

He was glad she set down the sword she was working on though. He was having a hard time staying focused while she worked on it. Besides, he liked to look in to her eyes. He couldn’t do that while they were downcast. They were even more beautiful in the dim light. Her pupils were large, and they seemed to sparkle when she looked from one of his eyes to the other and back while she talked. He decided that he didn’t want to die from OCD so he bent down close to her ear and asked her what it was in a low whisper since he didn’t want anyone else to hear. He was surprised and gratified when she didn’t laugh at his question. She put her lips close to his ear and whispered back. Her warm breath sent a shiver down his body. “Obsessive compulsive disorder. It’s neither fatal nor contagious. My brother has it. That’s how I spotted it in you.” After she said it she leaned back in her chair and looked at him. His eyes scanned hers again, and then he looked around for cameras that were going to spread his embarrassment to the world. There were at least 2 watching them speak, but one of them was a mounted surveillance camera. He knew he was busted. He should have been paying more attention. He did his finger pistol shooting the camera routine that had become one of his signature moves, and said “Bang.” At each of them. He was sure he was going to spend some time worrying about this instead of sleeping tonight.

Allen found himself walking near the perimeter fence looking at the ocean. He could see the waves crashing on to the beach, and he wondered why there weren’t people there on the beach enjoying it. “They won’t be on the beach 24 hours a day.” He told himself. And then he shook his head for talking to himself again. How come he hadn’t heard of this OCD thing forever ago? Everybody would know he had it now, and he just found out himself.

His mind wandered off and he was thinking about being a pirate. It must be scary to live on the ocean. The sea could open up and swallow you and your boat, or you might get killed in an attack, or worse, injured and die of some horrible infection. Not to mention the possibility of sailing off the edge. He took in a big sigh and noticed that the ocean had a coral reef kind of smell to it. He would like to get his hands on a map and see where he was. Maybe he would ask Sara for one. Just then he took in a deep sniff of the ocean air and enjoyed it. There was suddenly a flowery perfume smell in the air and he turned to see Debby walking toward him. She was sneaking up on him but her perfume gave her up. She was shocked that he noticed her since the ocean noise was drowning out all of the sound from her movements.

“What brings you out here tonight?” Allen asked as he looked for the cameras that were constantly watching. He spied one and he winked at it instead of firing a finger pistol at it.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Debby announced. “Want to go for a dip?”

Allen looked at her backlit silhouette as she approached. She was fully clothed, and he knew he wasn’t dressed for it. Besides there was a fence in between them and the beach. She must have been joking. He took his hands off the pommels of his swords as she approached. Man, the whole pommel thing was going to really bother him now that he knew about it. He kind of wished he didn’t know, but it was too late for that now.

“Naw. My Mom told me I couldn’t get wet.” Allen joked. Debby laughed her fake little laugh as she continued to approach. Her steps were quickened now that she had been discovered. Allen turned back to look at the sea through the chain link.

“I’ve been watching all the video of the Utes, and the Cougars. You are my shining star.” She continued.

Allen was still unconvinced concerning the shining star thing, but he didn’t turn back toward her. His perception of himself still made him out to be ordinary. He was just another cog in the machine. She came to stand next to him. She definitely smelled good. He resisted the urge to look in to her eyes. He liked her but he didn’t want to complicate things with Cindy so he would stay loyal to her. He focused on the scent of the sea until the scent of her perfume distracted him away from that. Then he concentrated on the crashing waves. He wondered how long it took for waves to make sand out of coral. The ocean waves were very powerful. Probably not very long. He could feel her looking at the side of his head but he remained focused.

“You are going to make us a lot of money.” She said with more enthusiasm. He could tell she was trying to trigger him into a response. He thought about his contract. She was right. He wondered if she was talking about him and her, or her and the company, or her and her dad, or an all-inclusive Us. He closed his eyes before turning his head toward her and then opened them to find her staring right at him.

“Us?” he asked as he looked into her eyes at last. The light from the camp was being refracted on the lenses of her eyes which gave them a sort of luminescence that was breath taking. He blinked, and then took his hands off the pommels of his swords again. He didn’t even realize they were there until he was putting them at his sides.

“You know.” She responded. “Us… The show.”

Allen just nodded his head slightly, and looked back at the ocean. It looked like a storm was moving in, but it was dark, and he was unsure. Usually, the scent of the ocean would change as the force from the waves intensified. It probably wasn’t a storm on the horizon.

“Everybody we interviewed who knows you had good things to say about you. And after the footage of the sword fight scene was shown, everybody we talked to seems to think they know you.” Debby said as she broke the silence.

“There is no reality in reality television.” Allen said as he turned to look at her. Man, she looked great. He blinked a couple of times to stay focused, and then turned to see a silhouette of a camera man and gave him both barrels as he walked away from her, and toward the camera. It was a shame too. He liked Debby okay, but she didn’t want to be friends, and he didn’t want to be locked in with the main producer’s daughter. That could only go badly for him. Putting her off might be equally bad, but he would have to find that out the hard way. To his dismay she hurried up to walk beside him as he headed back toward camp.

“Don’t you like me anymore?” she asked in a pouty voice that was characteristically Walt Disneyesque.

“Oh, I like you fine. But I don’t want to get caught up in any distractions until after shooting the show.” He explained.

“Distractions? Is that all I am to you?”

Allen shot her a disapproving look in response.

“Well, I’ll just have to wait then.” She said. Allen hoped she was being serious, but he doubted it. He looked at her again and noticed that she had angelic movements. That combined with her perfume and eyes compelled him to do something stupid, but he resisted.

“Good.” He said with finality in his voice. “I’ll get better acquainted with you after the show then.”

That’s when he spied Brandon. He challenged him to a duel so he could escape Debbie. They fought as they made their way to the barracks. Brandon was good, but Allen beat him left-handed. He noted that he wouldn’t be able to do that for very much longer. Brandon was getting better at an exponential rate. They all were.

Monday week 1 of the obstacle course.

Allen’s body was finally starting to feel comfortable in its soreness. It felt like he was doing good, instead of killing himself. He woke up before revelry as usual and got his morning cup of Joe. It was too hot as usual, but this time the bagels were in real good shape, and there were even some fairly fresh doughnuts there. Allen took an apple fritter and thought about his friend Mr. Hoops as he took the first bite. It was a bit doughy for his liking, but it was way better than the bagels he‘d been eating. He added more creamer to his coffee and sipped it after taking another bite from the fritter. It wasn’t so bad having Debby here after all he thought. Not if she was going to have fresh baked goods every morning. He sat at one of the tables and peered through the doorway into the kitchen where he saw Sandoval and the cook talking about something. Sandoval took a bite from one of the bagels, and was smiling. The bagels were fresh this morning. He would make a point of getting one before starting the obstacle course. He wondered how it was going to go. Someone had to tell them what they expected. Gomer was gone so he wondered where the direction was going to come from.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Just then the bugle went off and startled him. He spilled hot coffee on his hand when it jerked. He cleaned it off with a paper towel but his skin was red where it touched him. Then he cleaned up the mess from the table and went to the doorway. Sandoval came up behind him and asked how he was doing.

“Alright, but that bugle needs to be turned down, or shut off. Who uses that thing to wake up with anyway?” Allen asked. He sounded angrier than he was. He probably just wanted to complain. He looked over toward the east and saw that the sun would be up in about 25 minutes by his reckoning. And then he saw the girls come out of their Connex and toward the mess hall. Cindy was working some of the springy thingies to exercise her forearms. Her muscles rippled for her efforts. She looked great. They got to the doorway just ahead of some of the others. Allen held the door open for them.

“Ladies.” He said as they entered the mess.

“I want you to teach me how to be better with the swords.” Cindy requested. “I want to be better than you by the time we get to the ocean.”

Allen looked over toward the ocean before coming in behind the 2 women.

“Then you should have Todd or Brandon teach you. They are better than I am.” Allen responded.

“Brandon?” Rachael asked. “Brandon is better than you?”

“Yeah. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Brandon. I saw you beat him left-handed. That Brandon?” Cindy said as she pumped the squeezy thingy.

Allen laughed. “Yes, that Brandon. He’s going to be one of the best ones on the show. You’ll see.”

Both of the women had their doubts. They got some breakfast and sat down together. Just as they began eating Brandon came in. Cindy and Rachael saw him sheathe his wooden sword as he reached the doorway. It was as if he heard them talking earlier or something. Rachael started to laugh. “How do you know that about Brandon?” She asked.

Allen took a sip of his still too hot coffee before answering. “He had classes when he was young. And although he hasn’t worked with his talent since then he has great potential.” Allen took a small bite of fritter. “What he learned is going to come back to him, and he’s more dedicated now. He might even surpass Todd by the end.”

“Brandon?” Rachael asked again in disbelief.

Allen laughed as he answered. “You’ll see.”

Just before the A+ team did the flag ceremony Allen asked Todd to mentor him. Todd was willing, but he wasn’t going to let Allen win. If he was going to win, he’d have to defeat him. Allen agreed.

After the flag ceremony the interns distributed 2 pair of gloves to everybody. Sara was Allen’s intern so she told him and Todd what the plan was for the obstacle course. Then they relayed the information to their teams. It basically consisted of running and rolling in the mud, followed by trying to make your way up a rat line, the rope mesh that you see in all of the galleon movies, then swinging to another boat looking structure, and shooting a cannon from a gimbal at a target, then getting back in line to do it again. Since the 2 teams were against each other they started on opposite ends and crossed in the middle when they traded which boat they were on. Allen emphasized taking an extra second or 2 to aim the cannon. The small amount of time that would be lost would be justified if they could hit their target. Although they weren’t getting scored on the activity, he was certain that it would be helpful later on.

Both teams were scored separately, and the A+ team lost, again. It was most likely attributed to them taking the extra time to aim. They would have done better if the shot counted, but it didn’t. Allen didn’t mind losing, but many of the students on his team did. They blamed him for the loss. Rightfully so, but he was certain that accuracy had to play a part. Otherwise they wouldn’t have trained on it.

“We’ll just have to do better.” He would say. He did feel bad for the loss though. Everything was a competition it seemed. Maybe that’s why he got better with the swords when he was a kid. His brothers would beat him, and he hated to lose so he’d buckle down and do better. He would do whatever it took to win. It seemed simple when it was just him. It was different having a bunch of engineers working on your team. Although he was taking construction management classes, he didn’t know much about being a leader. Besides, they didn’t grow up the same as he did. He decided to do better as a coach, and mentor his team to greatness. It may not be so different after all.

By the end of morning everybody’s arms and hands were so sore that few of them could swing from one fake boat to the next. Most of them fell in the water as their forearms gave out. Then the ropes were wet which didn’t help any. Having wet gloves seemed to work good but you still had to grasp the rope real hard to hang on. If you didn’t have callouses at the first of the day, then you surely had blisters now. Cindy wouldn’t be pumping those springy thingies tonight.

The mood of the camp was way better than while doing the 5 miler every day. It was harder work, but it was so much more gratifying.

For lunch they were able to choose whatever they wanted. Well, whatever they wanted if they wanted salad. But there was chef salad, green salad, Greek salad, and potato salad. Allen wished there was some macaroni salad because he liked it better than potato salad, but there wasn’t any. He got some Greek and potato salad. He put a bunch of mustard on the potato salad, and a lot of black pepper on everything. He got teased for having so much pepper and mustard on everything, but he wasn’t a big fan of salad, so he blew them off.

At class he got his first opportunity to see the new blunderbuss paintball gun he would be using for the show. He wanted to take it out and try it but there wasn’t enough time.

“That was quicker than I thought it would be.” Allen exclaimed.

“It was easier than I thought with the 3D printer my brother has. Only a few of the parts had to be machined.” Mr. Remington said. He was all smiles today. As a matter of fact Allen was too now.

The gun was made of aluminum and it had a plastic stock that was molded to look like wood grain. The ramrod was brass, and the little screw off cap on the pommel held the CO2 cartridge in place, and would pierce it at the top when it was screwed in to position. It looked neat. It was real light though. Both of his guns were made of brass, and the shotgun one had steel sleeves and hinges for the break action. But even though this one was much lighter he had difficulty holding it right with his sore and blistered hands from doing the obstacle course.

It had a safety on it by the trigger guard that caught his attention.

“What’s this for?” Allen asked. He wasn’t mad, he just didn’t think about it until he noticed it.

“Well, the hammer pushes the button that releases the air when it hits the striker. So if you have the hammer in position, and something bumps it, it will go off. So, we put that in place for safety.” Remington explained as some of the other students gathered to see the new toy.

Allen considered it for a while. He thought of a better way to do it while Remington explained it, but it wouldn’t matter now. Not on the first generation stuff anyway. “I love it.” He exclaimed, and he handed it to London who was there with him. “Me too.” London confirmed. “How many does our team get before they come available at shanty town?” London asked.

“Four.” Sandoval said as he entered out of nowhere.

“What?” Allen and London said simultaneously.

“Just four.” Remington reaffirmed. “It would have been 2. One for you and one for London. But you carry both of them so you each get 2.” It was obvious that they should have been clearer about the contract. Allen vowed to learn from this mistake, and never make that mistake again.

“It turns out that the producers don’t want the actors taking over the show.” Sandoval said.

“Engineering students.” London pointed out. Once again, forgetting that Allen came in with his theater credit.

“Whatever. The point is that we get to use 4 blunderbusses before the rest of them get to use them. 2 weeks before they get to use them.” Sandoval said. He was obviously disappointed as well.

“14 days.” Allen corrected.

“2 weeks.” Sandoval corrected. “They will be available on the second weekend after you use them in battle.” Sandoval announced amid the tumultuous crowd.

“That’s not what my contract says.” Allen pointed out.

“If we go by that contract we only get 1 gun for 14 days. Does that sound more appealing?” Sandoval countered. Allen pursed his lips and shook his head in disappointment. He would have to considered this for a while before committing to an answer. He looked over to London and then whispered something into his ear. London nodded his ascent.

“Okay, but I want this in writing as well. I’ll turn over my original contract when I approve of the new one.” Allen said. “When WE approve of the new one.” He corrected himself. Indicating that London had some say in it as well. London just nodded again. Allen looked in to the camera that Danny was pointing at him. “Did you get that?” Allen asked. Danny nodded. Allen gave him both barrels again. And a wink. He was tired of getting walked all over.

“I guarantee that you don’t want to gyp me with these agreements. I’m not a law student, by I can read and understand contracts. Be careful when you want to stick to the letter of the law with me. I have a unique talent for that.” Allen warned, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

London gave him a look and whispered in his ear. “Don’t get them all pissed off. They are in charge of this show, and our future. We need to just take our licks and move on.

Allen nodded his head in agreement, but he vowed to reread his contracts.

Allen turned to Remington and asked about patent possibilities. “Don’t you like your contract? It seemed fair at the time we made it. Now you think you want to change it?” Remington asked.

“No, the contract is good. We want to get a patent on it though. We can all 4 be on it. That way no one else can cut in on our idea. We can market it and advertise it on the show. I know a bunch of people who would love to get their hands on one. We just don’t want anyone else stealing our idea.” Allen said. London just nodded again. He was beginning to resemble a bobble head doll. The thought of this made Allen giggle.

“Okay, I will get a patent on it. In the morning.” Remington added.

“Or you can get your bro in law to get working on it now.” London chimed in. This time it was Allen who nodded his head like a bobble head.

Remmington nodded in agreement.

At class they had a gimbal cannon like the ones on the obstacle course. They worked on aiming it and shooting the target. Allen noticed right off that it worked on a sort of orbital sway. He thought it might be similar to the way it would behave on the boat. It was an ingenious method of practice. It would give them real life experience shooting a real life cannon at real life targets. “That safety waiver is going to be hell to enforce when people start dying on the show.” Allen said absently before he realized he was talking out loud. Some of his peers thought that was funny and they began to laugh. Allen just shrugged off their mirth.

When Allen’s turn came up to fire the thing, he put on his dual hearing protection and loaded the cannon while the gimbal rocked. He put the charge in and the black powder fast fuse. He sighted the target up for when the gimbal was heading down just after its apogee. Then he touched it off. Not only was he the first to hit the target, but he got a bullseye. Everybody cheered, and rushed to pat him on the back, and congratulate him when he leapt from the gimbal. He was all smiles when he pulled off the earmuffs. He saw Debby in the back rubbing her finger and thumb together to signify that they were going to make a lot of money. When he saw her gesture he held his left hand up like he had an enormous stack of bills in it, and he was indicating that the money stack would be thicker by flipping through it with his other hand. Like you might do with a deck of cards, or 2 decks of cards the way he held his fingers. They shared a private joke kind of laugh, and he mingled with his friends.

Once everybody had the opportunity to fire the cannon they went back in and continued making black powder. They all had the recipe memorized by now. Allen wondered if anybody was a chemical engineer. They were probably few and far between. There was no way the world could support all of the engineers that were coming out of all the schools these days. He was glad he was in construction management. He thought they would be more sought after which meant he could get to work right out of school.

There weren’t so many sword duels after class. Everybody was pretty sore from the rope training. Allen could barely make a fist after trying to stay on that rope while swinging to the other boat today. It was no wonder they were lackadaisical. Allen got ahead of the group before anybody got inside the mess hall.

“Who hasn’t lost a duel yet today?” Allen asked of the crowd. Only a few hands went up. “Who hasn’t given their very best today?” A lot more hands went up.

“Anybody who hasn’t given their very best today needs to pull their weapon, and get ready for a brawl.” Allen continued. “A team vs A+ team. And when that ends we go to last man standing. Agreed?” Allen asked. He wasn’t winning any friends today. He knew that for certain. This was the type of fighting that he used to do with his brothers. All for one, and one for one.

Everybody agreed.

“Don’t pull your arm band until you have given your very best.” Todd added. “Agreed?” Todd wasn’t making any either.

“Begin!” Debby shouted, and the dust began to rise. The whole contest seemed to last about an hour or so, but it was only about 20 minutes until Allen, Fish, and Cindy were the last ones fighting from team A+. Fish had been hit many times, but he had the tenacity of a badger. Cindy had been killed about 40 times or so, and Allen seemed to be impervious to their attacks, even though he had rubber for arms. He could barely hold his blades but his accuracy was incredible. It seemed like he could put them wherever he wanted them to go.

“Okay, team A wins. Free for all?” Allen conceded and asked. Then the melee took new force. Allen was caught off guard when Cindy got him in the ribs with a thrust at the announcement. He didn’t expect it, but he fought on. He seemed to do better the more people he was fighting. Debby just stood on a table and clapped her hands in front of her neck. It took nearly 20 more minutes of bruit combat for anybody to cave in. Cindy gave in first, and then most of the A team, until it was Todd, Fish, Brandon, and Allen. Allen refused to give in this time. He had only taken about 4 hits since the free for all began. Todd had been hit at least 5 times that amount. Fish would have bled to death about 50 times, but the badger wouldn’t die during this practice. When Brandon quit it was right after hitting Todd. When Todd quit it was just before getting walloped by Fish. And then there were 2. Neither would surrender. Neither would admit they were beaten. Fish still had power where Allen had stealth. It went for another 12 minutes before Todd noticed that Allen just refused to quit. Even after Fish hacked Allen to the ground with a continuous barrage of downswing blows, he still wouldn’t give in. Fish refused to keep hacking at his friend who was prone and unable to lift his weapons.

“Parlay.” Todd shouted at last, giving a reprieve to his friend. Allen began to get up and was trying to swing at the bigger man while seated in the dirt. “Parlay.” He repeated with more emphasis in order to shush his friend. Fish sheathed his wooden blade by sticking it between his belt and jeans and helped Allen up.

“In a contest of last man standing, second place is dead last.” Allen slurred. He didn’t even have strength to talk clearly.

Debby’s enthusiasm for the show was diminished when she saw the brutality that her golden goose was willing to endure to be the best that he could be.

“I almost had you too.” Allen joked as Cindy came over once again and she and Fish helped him into the mess hall. The blood from his broken blisters was visible through the leather gloves he wore. Fish would have thought that winning the contest would make him happier, but the cost was high. Too high for his liking anyway.

“You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep this up Mr. Bennett.” Cindy scolded as she swished the sweaty hair off of his forehead. She didn’t seem as mad as he thought she would be. “You need to save some for the next day. Or use some common sense.”

“I don’t have any.” He laughed, and many of the combatants laughed with him.

The cook came and put a cold wet towel across Allen’s shoulders and down his back to help him cool off. The excess cool water drizzled down his aching muscles and dampened his jeans in the small of his back. And like the first time he went all out on the show, Cindy got his food, and fed him like a little baby. This time he didn’t feel as uncomfortable about it even though there were a lot of people watching them. They had chicken, corn on the cob, and mashed potatoes and gravy with big chunks of chicken in it. Cindy cut his corn off the cob for him. He couldn’t make a fist anymore. He wondered how he would swing from a rope in the morning. He made a few attempts at balling up some fists and relaxing them as he absently ate the food. He mechanically ate dreading what the morning would bring. Muscle memory seemed to be the driving force. His mind wandered toward a possible future, and what he hoped he could make of it.

Allen could neither hold floss, nor a toothbrush. Neither of his hands had any grip. He was suddenly glad that he didn’t need to take a crap because he knew that wasn’t all he couldn’t do. When he got to his bed he struggled to remove the lid off of the balm before someone else came to help him out, and had to apply the blister treatment on his hands. Then he took some Advil and tried to sleep. This was going to be more difficult than he thought it would. This competition might be the end of him. “Good thing they have that waiver.” He said as he lay down to sleep. People chuckled in the room. One thing was for certain. Being a good example sure did hurt.

Tuesday week 1 of obstacle course.

Allen got up, ate some Advil, and took a shower. His muscles hurt much worse than his blisters until he got some soap on them. He seemed to be exploring new avenues of pain. “No pain, no gain.” He said to himself as he winced from the sting of the soapy water. His grip was so weak that he could hardly hold his soap with either hand. Then he started to chuckle. Mostly because he was so miserable it struck him as funny. He thought about the brave young men and women in the military again. He wouldn’t stand by if anybody disrespected them ever again. Not that he wasn’t always at least a little of a patriot, but he had a better affinity with them now for some reason. “Know pain, know gain.” He amended as he looked at his hands. That obstacle course would be the death of him. This time, however, everybody was in a similar boat. Everybody would be suffering from yesterday’s activities. That should bring them all together. He thought to himself. He knew that a shared adversity would breed comradery. “Misery loves company.” He spoke as he shut the water down and fumbled with the towel and tried to dry himself. The portions of the blisters that were a mass of skin that hadn’t been completely torn off were hard. Like a callous that didn’t take hold completely. When he looked, he noticed that was exactly what it was.

As he walked out of the shower some of the other students were walking in. He was either late, or they were early. “I love company.” Fish said as he walked past Allen. Allen gave him a curious look as he walked by. What a weird thing to say to a guy in a towel in the shower area. He must have given him a curios look because Fish made a clarification. “You said misery loves company.”

Everybody that had heard the encounter thought that was funny. Yup, this is going to build camaraderie. Allen affirmed.

After dressing his wounds Allen walked over to the chow hall and had some bacon and eggs. The big bulky bandages were bad enough, but he had to hold his fork like a child for lack of strength. This wasn’t going to end any time soon, he feared. He looked around and noticed some of his classmates and went to go talk with them.

“How y’all doin?” he asked as he approached. Normally there wasn’t this sort of activity when he was in the hall. He was certain that he must have overslept, but it turned out that everybody else had gotten up early.

“I’m good.” Was the common response.

“Can y’all do me a favor?” Allen asked. “Can you help out with the rest of the crew if they look like they’re struggling? Just work with the others like a mentor if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” Was the common response again.

He thought back to when he was 8 or 9 and his Dad, the task master, made him take out the garbage for the next door neighbor. She was like a hundred years old or so, and she looked like she was going to die at any minute. Allen didn’t want her to die in front of him so he avoided her. That worked until his Dad made him take out and bring back her can to her house. She had it right next to the back porch at the end of her driveway so that she didn’t have to walk all the way out and down some stairs and back to put trash in it from the house. There was a gate that he had to open and roll the can out, and then do the same after the garbage man had come. Bringing it back in to the little area. He went over and did what he was asked. He didn’t even see the old woman in the morning, and he hoped that he wouldn’t see her again after school when returning the can, but there she was when he noisily rolled the can up the driveway. She looked sick or something. His adolescent fears led him to believe that she was waiting outside for him so that she could die as he walked up. It embarrassed him to be so frightened of the little old lady, but he was. He diligently brought the can up to the gate, rocked the can back in to its resting position, opened the gate, put the can by the porch, and looked up at the little old lady. He remembered thinking that she must not be used to the pollution or something because her eyes were watering. “Hi Sheela.” He said as he moved out the gate and closed it up. He was afraid of looking back at her to see her die on the porch and roll down the stairs so he hurried to his house and brought in his own garbage can.

The next week was nearly the same. Allen was amazed at how little garbage was put in her can compared to the ones at his own house with the 4 boys and the parents. It was easy enough work, except for the worrying. He did this menial job for weeks on end. Every week she stood outside lurking to die as he brought the can back up to the house, but every week she didn’t die. When the month ended, and it was finally his brothers turn to take over the job he was relieved. He went and did his own chores as the boys rotated through the chore list. When he walked to school the first morning after doing his own chores he walked by and saw that her can was already out. His brother had done the chore of taking the old lady’s garbage can out to the street as his chore for the month. He was relieved that he didn’t have to do it. But some time during the course of the day while he was at school he had forgotten. So, on the way home from school he automatically brought her can in from the street. She was waiting for him on the back porch as usual. She had tears in her eyes as usual. “Hi Sheela.” Allen said as he set the can back to rest by the porch, and started toward the gate to leave.

“I missed you this morning.” Sheela said.

“What?” Allen asked.

“I missed you this morning.” She repeated in her soft voice.

In that short amount of time he had already forgotten that his brother had taken the garbage out. He turned back to her and looked up into her watery eyes. The poor little old lady had tugged at his heart strings without even knowing it. He noticed that his eyes were watering too so he was instantly embarrassed. He didn’t want to just leave the place. Someone might see that he was crying, and he hated that. So instead of continuing to his own house he walked up to her and gave her a hug. Her skin seemed like it wasn’t hooked on good enough as he did his best to give her a tender hug. He wondered if she was aware that her skin was loose. “I missed you this morning too.” Allen said.

She asked if he would like to share a soda with her, and he thought that might be good. Besides it would give his eyes a chance to dry up. “Name brand?” he asked without worrying about what the response would be.

“Shasta.” She replied.

“Root beer?” He asked.

“If you like.” She replied.

“Yes please.” He said, and they each had a can of Shasta root beer in undersized glass mugs that she brought out of the freezer, so they were real cold. The root beer did that little thing it does when it gets poured in to a frozen mug, and fizzed a lot and made little brown ice crystals on the inside as the white frost enveloped the outside. The handle was cold and frosty as well, but it thawed as he grasped it with his warm hand. The dew on his palm bothered him, and he wiped it on his jeans. The root beer tasted sweet and delicious. And although he would have never admitted it at the time, he had a certain affinity for the lady that was even older than a grandma. He was always afraid that she would die while he was around which always made him uneasy. But he seemed to always have a sort of love for the old woman.

That was the turning point in his life when he wanted to do things for others. He found that through service of others comes the greatest compassion of all. If his friends were going to be a team they would have to have a certain compassion for each other. He made a mental note to serve each member of his team. And then after he thought about it he made another mental note to serve the other team as well. He might be able to get everybody to help each other like he and his family did when he was growing up. Everybody seemed to want to help out. Without even asking.

There were modifications to the morning ritual due to the blisters and pulled muscles from the previous day’s activities. The rope swing to the other boat structure was replaced by a couple of gang planks stretched between the 2 fake ships. Sword fighting the other team after crossing the gang plank was added before shooting the cannon from the gimbal. But other than that, it was pretty much the same. Contact with the other team seemed to be just a step in the order of operations, so it evolved into a couple of smacks with the sword, and then moved on. It seemed more Hollywood than the rest of the program. Most of the students were just going through the motions at this point since they all had tired and sore muscles.

Nearly everybody had great difficulty holding on to their swords. Fish was a freaking bruit that couldn’t be broken. He seemed like he could go forever. He would be a good one to send in after people were getting fatigued. Or maybe at the beginning to outlast any opposition if he didn’t die right out of the gate. With a small amount of training he would devastate the opposition.

It was difficult loading the cannon with sore forearms, but each of them struggled through it. Allen worried about a misfire that would cause them to extract the ball. That was a messy, and time consuming process that he didn’t want to be part of, so he warned his group against cutting corners when loading. And as if to put a punctuation mark on his warning, the Team A cannon had a misfire. Everything was halted while the situation was analyzed, and a plan was formulated on how to fix the problem. It turned out that the main charge failed to blow when the fuse was finished. They were preparing to extract the ball when Allen told about a time he had a similar experience with his blunderbuss, and he stopped them from pouring water down the fuse hole to make it so it wouldn’t go off unbidden. Most of the students were happy about the break.

“If we got some real fuse, like dynamite fuse or something, and put a blasting cap on it, and we poked it 2/3 of the way in to the charge, we can probably blow it out. Then a good cleaning and we’re running again.” Allen explained.

Mr. Remington thought about it for a while before agreeing. They wouldn’t be any further behind if they did it that way, and it just might work out. It seemed safe enough so he okayed the procedure.

Remington put on some padded asbestos gloves and began the work. It took longer to get the materials than it did to get them in place. And when the fire from the fuse entered the body of the cannon everybody was on pins and needles. When the cannon fired it startled Allen more than it should have, but no one seemed to notice. Except the cameras. And there they were. There was always one on him. He did his characteristic finger gun thing and said “Bang.” Followed by a wink.

At the end of the obstacle course training Allen tried to work on his holster but his hands and arms hurt too much. He worked his plan in his mind though, and thought of exactly how he wanted it to be. He even made sure that the weight from his blunderbuss wouldn’t pull down too far in the front. He was sure it would turn out great. When he had a chance to work on it anyway. That’s when Rachael, and Cindy came in.

“I can put that together for you.” Rachael volunteered as Allen described the procedure.

Allen looked over at Cindy who had a similar affliction with her arms. They looked like they were bruised from all the blood saturating the muscles and skin.

“That would be great.” Allen admitted. “What’s going on with your arms?” he asked Cindy almost in the same sentence.

“Oh, I had a cold pack on them.” She explained. And then when she saw his face she continued. “To help with the swelling.”

“Ahh… did it work?” He asked.

“Sort of. They still hurt, but they are toughening up.” She replied. Her hands weren’t bleeding like his had been. She actually had real live callouses that he finally noticed when looking at her hands. Allen thought her hands were beautiful despite the callouses. Maybe even more so than if they weren’t. Her fingers seemed long, and her hands seemed dainty. Nobody would guess how strong she was. Her delicate bone structure looked like it might fracture easily. Allen looked up to her face and realized that she had fine bone structure on her face as well. High cheek bones and slender jaw. She was quite well proportioned for a gymnast, but she was proving to be quite strong and was becoming an accomplished pirate as well. When she looked up into his eyes he quickly blinked, and when his eyes reopened, they were focused again on her hands. He thought she probably hadn’t noticed.

It took just under an hour for Rachael to get the holster sewn together. When it was done he tried it on. It worked great. He could even pull his blunderbuss and shoot it quick if he needed to. He thanked her and asked if he could do anything for her. She just laughed.

He decided to make a wooden replica of his gun that he could carry in his new holster to get used to having it on all the time. As an added bonus it would look like he had a toy gun and the other teams might not realize its implications as quickly. But that would have to wait until he regained his strength.

Debby came up to him and ooo’ed and aaaw’ed and you poor thing’ed him until he could barely stand to be around her. She was so fake that it nauseated him now. He secretly wished she had a different shining star that she could bother. All the while Cindy gave her space as if she was giving Debby permission to claim him as some sort of prize. Allen began to question how committed Cindy would be to him, or if she wanted him to move on to Debby. She seemed to care, but she also seemed so… distant, at the same time. He was sure that he would ever figure women out.

While the pirates were at lunch the production crew had everybody assemble in the back as they all talked about the show. Mr. Remington was there, and it seemed like they were going to have class in the big room. Edward, Remington, London, and Allen talked about the paint ball guns while the group found their seats and gossiped.

“We’ve ordered enough paint ball guns for each person on the show to get one.” Edward said. Allen and London began to smile. They would be getting a good payday when they got their money for the paint ball markers.

“Do you think one per person will be enough?” London asked. The smile faded from Allen’s face as soon as he asked it. He probably should have made his plans clear before bringing London into this meeting. While Edward was telling how it was going to be costly to get that many guns, and he didn’t think they needed any extras, Allen whispered something to London that put a shocked look on his face. “So we don’t feel the need to pad your pockets just because you want us to.” Edward concluded.

“Sorry sir.” London apologized. “I just have a lot of student loans to pay off. You know what I mean?” It was more of a statement than a question. Allen and London were making their way to the seats when Remington chimed in.

“I thought there would be more guns ordered. It turns out that they decided to go cheap. We will still make good money on the ones we made, but the first set don’t have a lot of mark up. Getting the dies set up, and the program put in. That’s expensive. I hope we end up making money on this.” Remington stated.

“Oh, we will. I think London and I will be able to help with advertising. We can even have a signature addition with our autographs on them. That and a picture of the show or something… voilà.” Allen added. Then he gave both barrels to Danny who was recording their conversation. Allen didn’t want to give too much away.

“They won’t let you use the show for marketing.” Remington replied. “I already tried that.”

“How much capitol do you have? You and your bro in law I mean.” Allen asked. “Make as many as you can up to 100,000. I will take care of the rest.”

“How?” Remington asked, but London was curious as well.

“The show airs in September or something right?” Allen asked. No one was for sure, but Danny was nodding. Allen gave him a single left-handed finger shot and a wink. “Bang.” He said. “Well that’s just in time for Christmas. Be the first on your block to own one, and all that. We don’t need to exploit the show. We just need to be in the commercial. And have our likeness on the package or something.”

“That would bring down the individual production costs to make them in that kind of bulk. But we’re going way out on a limb, and I don’t have that kind of money. What skin do you have in the game?” Remington asked.

“How many guns did the show order?” Allen asked.

“200.” Remington answered. London did some quick math in his head and smiled.

“Triple the price when selling to the show.” Allen suggested.

“I can’t there’s a contract. You know how these movie types are.” Remington countered.

“On the next order.” Allen corrected. And when he said this Edward began to speak up front, oblivious to the conversation they were having.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, for tonight’s viewing pleasure we present the movie, Avatar. And as a special treat we are making it a double feature with the making of avatar.” There was cheering from the crowd. Probably because they would rather watch the double feature than go to class. Popcorn and candy was available for free, and even soda pop or a refreshing malt beverage if you were so inclined. It would have been better if they were popping the corn here Allen thought absently. He loved the smell and sound of popping corn. It always seemed to make the movie more… real. Allen took a seat next to Cindy. Debby came over and sat on his other side before he noticed that she was following him. He rolled his eyes while Cindy was watching and Debby wasn’t, but then he remembered the ever-present cameras. He found one that was pointed his way and gave it an exaggerated wink. Maybe when Debby watched she wouldn’t be too offended. He didn’t want to get on Edwards bad side.

Before the show they showed crowd reactions with actual footage on a split screen again. It was fun recognizing the different bars, restaurants, and hangouts from home, but it made Allen, and the rest of them homesick.

The first feature was intense. There was an intermission afterward, and most of the crowd rushed toward the restrooms. The adult beverages and a 3 hour movie were a bad combo it seemed. Allen meandered into the lobby where the lion’s share of the actors mingled and got more refreshments. Debby followed Allen around like a lost puppy. He reminisced, thinking of a time when there were a lot of dandelions in the yard. They had crocuses planted in the grass that would sprout in the springtime, and his dad was hesitant to poison the weeds. He decided to “Kill them with kindness.” This was a process of putting a handful of nitrogen fertilizer right on top of the dandelions. They were a weed that preferred soil that was more like a desert landscape with little in the way of fertilizer or good soil. The overdose of nitrogen killed off the dandelion, and there would be a greener spot of grass there while the fertilizer dissipated into the soil. It had little to no effect on the crocuses. He decided to treat Debby like the dandelion that she was and kill her with kindness. He decided to be real nice to her while she was there hanging on his arm, and every word. She would leave soon, and things could get back to normal. Whatever normal was with cameras watching your every move. She was real clingy though so he spent some time in the restroom combing his hair, washing his face with his stinging palms. And put his hands under the hot air dryer. The hot air felt real good. When he got back out to the lobby of the big room she was waiting for him. He smiled and went over to her where she was standing by the wall. She leaned toward him as he walked up, and he went to put his hand on the wall beside her head, and she moved in and kissed him on the mouth. He didn’t even have time to close his eyes or anything. He was stunned and shocked. He licked his lips and found that there was the residual of some sort of lip gloss that had transferred to his lips.

“What was” he began, but he was cut short when she did it again. She was cute and all, but he was freaked out by her sudden affections. He pulled his hand away, and looked around to see who was watching, but of course the whole world was. It was completely unbidden. Then she just giggled her fake little giggle and grabbed his arm and was leading him back to their seats. He thought about pulling away, but he followed. Taking those big steps you take when you are being pulled along. He wiped his mouth off with one of his big billowy sleeves as they approached Cindy and his seat. She had got new popcorn and another Michelob. She had a small cooler full of them with some ice. She noticed the color of his flushed skin as he approached her. She closed and rolled her eyes. She knew.

Allen thought about having one of the beers, but opted to stay more alert instead. He didn’t drink often so his tolerance was low. Cindy seemed to know what was going on, but she acted as normal as she could. Allen thought it might be the face he was pulling as he approached. Her eyebrows crunched together. Allen knew she was mad. He felt doubly betrayed because he knew he was innocent. Then she sat back and enjoyed her beverage and shared her popcorn. Allen wanted to sit someplace else.