Chapter 14: The One That Got Away

October 16, 1981

Everyone met at school at 9am. Late enough that everyone else was already in class, early enough to make the drive to Dallas, with stops, in plenty of time to compete today. We’d get there by 3pm even with stops and lunch. That’d be plenty early. The deadline was more like 4:30pm. Barring some complete mistake, we’d be able to check into the motel first.

As before, we loaded all of our stuff in the front of the bus and sat in the back. Almost everyone was going. Brad, May, and Ryan couldn’t go and, of course, no Bree or Cindy. That left us with 18 people on the bus — 6 boys, 12 girls. Even with luggage, evidence, and so forth filling up several rows, we had plenty of room.

Rooming-wise, we’d split two rooms of 3 for boys, three rooms of 4 for girls. None of the girls seemed to mind. Of course, one bed would be twin sisters, and one bed would be a couple. That might have helped. I’d be rooming with Adam, who I’d roomed with before, and Amit. Both liked the idea of randomizing things each night. Unlike State, we only had two nights, so someone wouldn’t get a bed to themselves. Angie was rooming with Sue, Anne, and Megan. Cammie was rooming with Janice, Lizzie, and Janet, as before. That left Kenzie, Callie, Zoe, and Emmy sharing the third room.

We were on the road by 9:20am. Several of us had brought cards, so we played cards for an hour and a half. We got to Madisonville around 11:30 and stopped for lunch at a mom-and-pop diner. The food was good; the bathroom line for the girls was bad. As before, I helped them split the line once the boys had finished.

The stretch van with the Drama kids pulled in as I was managing the line. Drama had brought ten kids — 4 boys, 6 girls — plus Ms. Smith. The stretch van suited them fine since they didn’t have all the mountains of material.

Jasmine zipped over to me and gave me a hug as they came in. “Hi!”

I laughed and hugged her back. “Fancy meeting you here!” She giggled at that. “Are y’all having a good drive?”

“Eh. I probably shouldn’t say this, but, hey, I know you guys are cool, and you in particular. Charles is having boyfriend trouble, and we were commiserating the whole way, pretty much.”

“Well, that sucks. I mean, for him. It’s good that you’re all there to help.”

“Yeah. I think it’s helped. And I think we’ll change subjects after the stop. I like just getting to go, you know?”

“I think this’ll be a fun trip.”

“Me too! We have to hang out at least some.”

“Definitely!”

We split to our respective tables.

We were back on the road by 12:30pm and made it to our motel just before 3pm. Meg got us checked in and we dragged the luggage to our rooms. Then we headed over to The Hockaday School. Or, just Hockaday; that’s what everyone called it. I’d been here the first time around and remembered it, partly because — as one might expect — boys’ rooms are few and far between. They repurposed one girls’ room, but it was a hike to find a restroom.

I had a strong reason to go mingle with the Drama kids for the first time, so I did. Jasmine introduced me around. I knew most of the sophomores, of course, but not many of the others. Some I knew a bit; for instance, Anne Brennerman’s brother, Danny, was a freshman, and so was Martha Kohl’s brother, Sam, as well as Emmy Green’s sister, Beth.

As a group, they met my stereotype for Drama kids. Relaxed, fun, not as focused as the Debaters. And full of, well, drama. Charles was having boyfriend trouble. Emmy was having girlfriend trouble. Carole was having boyfriend and girlfriend trouble at the same time; her love triangle had turned into a square and it had her fairly upset. Sam was having an existential crisis. Two of the sophomores, Sara and John, were in the midst of a messy breakup and weren’t talking. Or looking at each other. According to Jasmine, this was their third such breakup. People were already betting on how long it’d be before they were back together.

I wasn’t sure if I could handle it on a continuous basis, but it sounded fun and entertaining in small doses. Their fall production was a play, ‘The Glass Menagerie’. Jasmine was bummed because it had a small cast and that left most everyone — including her — doing technical roles only. Two of the seniors had been lobbying for it since their freshman year, and Ms. Smith had given in to the constant pressure.

Spring, Jasmine enthused, would be much better. They were doing ‘Brigadoon’, which has plenty of room for primary cast plus understudies — enough that they might well need to audition outside Theater Arts circles to get a large enough chorus. I’m a fan of ‘Brigadoon’; our family name is Marshall, but go back a couple generations on Dad’s side and you hit Johnstones. Lots of Johnstones. My middle name was a nod to that. The first recorded member of Clan Johnstone was John Johnstone. Many members of the family, especially men, had a Johnstone family name, even after Great-Grandmother Abigail (Angie’s middle name) married a Marshall.

Sure, I have no biological connection to the Johnstones. Angie doesn’t either. Well, unless we do; who knows? Home DNA tests don’t exist yet, and the one I’d done decades in the future didn’t break things down by clan. 10% Scottish, though! In any case, family is what you make it, as much or more than whose blood you share.

Jasmine and I chatted about favorite musicals and plays. Angie had done a good job of selling me, but she’d neglected — or omitted on purpose — that I loved the theater. That gave me a chance to sell myself all over again, as long as I remembered not to mention things that hadn’t been written yet.

For my part, she was cute, fun, apparently drama-free, and smart. A winning combination, so far. Her family was interesting. They weren’t, as I had guessed, part of the ‘boat people’. They’d gotten to the US via France, since her grandfather had been posted at the French Consulate. Jasmine was a second-generation Houstonian, putting her ahead of probably three-quarters of the school in terms of being a native. For me, of course, who knows? I might have roots back to the city’s founding or might have arrived here in 1966. All I know is that I was born here. And ‘born’ a second time here, of course, as well.

By the end of the conversation, I was sure there was more spark here than with Sue, even now. Enough to date seriously? Who knows? But points to Angie for, so far, being a reasonably successful matchmaker.

First round started at 4pm. Not bad at all. I guess when you control the school, and it’s partly a boarding school as well, you can get away with a lot in terms of scheduling. That, or the Debate program had some pull. Hockaday competed around the area and occasionally elsewhere, and the tournament pulled in teams from six states according to the tournament director. Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Louisiana were obvious — they’re not that far, with population centers that had travel distances no worse than ours. Beyond that, anyone must have traveled a fairly significant distance.

That’s unusual, but not unheard-of. In my senior year, we’d taken a trip to the University of Pennsylvania; I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we did that again. Anything beyond that — out of state — would be a change. And maybe a ripple.

My first Extemp round felt good. Our first CX round went very well, I thought. Our opponents were from out of state — the Arkansas part of Texarkana — and solid, well-organized, polished. The problem was, their case had holes in it we knew about and they didn’t. Not until after the round. They thanked us — not uncommon; we do that, too — but then hung out and talked to us for ten minutes about the evidence we had, copying down a few references. I’d have second thoughts about going that far for an in-state team, maybe. For an out-of-state team? Hell, if they steamrolled us at Nationals because we helped them, I’ll high-five them myself for both of us getting that far.

Not only that, but we really didn’t want to get a reputation as one of those teams who are assholes. People know who those teams are and step up against them. I’d much rather the good people win. But then, I counted myself as one of them, and wanted to keep doing that.

6:30pm found us back in the cafeteria for a decent meal of catered-in barbeque. I’m not sure what they spent, but it was worth it. Being aware of our outfits, they’d put the sauce on the side, where we could control how dangerous the dinner was to our attire. I lived on the wild side and did just fine.

Our second rounds felt good, too. I got some time in Extemp to chat a bit with the other competitors. One guy had traveled all the way from southern Illinois along with seven other kids. One girl was here from a girls’ school in St. Louis. That answered a couple more states. They were pretty nice; well, for five minutes anyway.

Our CX round was one of those bad rounds that leaves you nervous but optimistic. Our opponents, from somewhere in Fort Worth, were disorganized and sloppy. We opted to stay in a logical order, hoping the judge would follow. Our impression of her was that she was some sort of professional who would keep up just fine.

The Hockaday kids (and coach, of course) knew what they were doing. By 10:15 we were on our way to the motel, only 15 minutes off schedule. This was, by far, the most efficiently run tournament I’d attended this time around. In fact, it was so well run that I talked to Meg about it when we got back.

“They’re doing a great job.”

“They are.”

“We’re hosting in January, right?”

“Yup. We run a tournament every other year or so.”

“Mind if I ask them for any tips?”

She laughed. “I’m going to be doing that. Why not? Some of their kids might know things that the coach doesn’t, or wouldn’t share. Good thinking, Steve.”

“Hey, they ran 15 minutes late. We have room for improvement.”

She laughed more. “If we manage that, we’re going to annoy all the coaches whose bus drivers think they can be hours late.”

I shrugged. “Oh well. You can’t please everyone.”

“No. No, you can’t. I like the way you’re thinking about it now instead of waiting.”

“No time like the present.”

“Indeed.”

Amit and Adam had wanted to chat for a bit, so I checked in with Angie and Sue. Both were doing well. Anne and Megan were hanging out when I checked in; they both seemed to be happy, too. I didn’t get to bed until 11:30pm.

October 17, 1981

By 7:30am we were up and moving. Breakfast was at a Denny’s, and pretty good. By 9am we were competing. My first Extemp round felt a little shaky, but by the CX round whatever butterflies I had were gone. In between rounds, I got about 15 minutes to talk to a few of the Hockaday girls running the tournament. Once they figured out that I just wanted to talk tournament hosting, and not hit on them, it was a pretty good conversation. After that, I headed off for my last rounds of prelims. Both felt good.

We started lunch just after noon — catered burgers — and chatted. I made a point of saying hi to a few of the out-of-towners, but there were too many kids and too little time to do much. Besides, I wanted to talk to my teammates even more, as well as the Drama kids.

The buzz hit about 1:30pm. Cammie did the honors, as always.

“OK, everyone! Here’s who’s still standing.

“Extemp: Amit, Steve, Angie, Megan, Anne, Emmy, Kenzie, Henry, Sue, Janice, and me.”

There were some hoots at that! Eleven! Better than Clear Lake!

“LD: Doug, Kenzie, Callie.”

Well, that’s everyone who we brought in LD except Janice. Kicking butt!

“CX: I’m sorry, Anne and Megan. You didn’t break.”

Meg blinked. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes — the rest of us are all still in.”

I ran through it in my head. “Holy cow! Every single one of us is still competing!”

Meg smiled. “I can’t even remember this happening before. I’m sure it has, but it’s been years and we didn’t have eighteen kids on the trip. I am so proud of you all I could just burst! Whatever happens from here out, we are one kick-ass team!”

There was mass cheering, and we all met in a big hug.

I laughed, after. “So, who’s got the best of times and the worst of times?”

Cammie blinked. “Huh?”

“We have five teams in CX, out of eight, which is outlandish. Who gets to fight it out?”

“Oh! Janice and Lizzie vs Zoe and Adam.”

I wasn’t surprised. It was likely going to be best versus worst, and right now Zoe and Adam were most likely going to have that bottom spot. They just hadn’t put in the hours over the summer that the rest of us had. Still, breaking is breaking. And, thank God, I didn’t have to go up against Janet and Lizzie yet. They were out for revenge. Friendly, but revenge.

I gave Angie a big hug. “Give ‘em hell, sis!”

“You too, big brother! This is awesome!”

“I can’t believe we did better than at Clear Lake. This is ridiculous. People are going to hate us.”

“Eh. Fuck ‘em.”

I grinned. “Better idea. Don’t.”

“You! That’s my line!”

“Good artists borrow. Great artists steal.”

She giggled and hugged me. “Love you, big brother.”

“Love you, little sister.”

Janet looked at us. “Gag me with a spoon!” She pretended to stick her finger down her throat.

“Love you, too, Janet.” “Yeah, love you, too!”

“The sweetness ... can’t cope ... dying ... save me, Lizzie!”

I felt really confident on my first Extemp round. Sue and Henry were in my round; they felt good, too. Other teams had, as expected, noticed that we were three-eighths of the round and griped. When we told them we were three of eight in three of the four rounds, they just groaned.

CX? Hell if I knew. We’d have to wait for the postings. Our opponents were a couple girls from that girls’ school in St. Louis. They were good. A few holes in their case, but everyone has that, and we didn’t have the best direct counter-evidence. It’d just come down to how the judge saw the round. Having the luxury of being already qualified for State — PQ’d — took some of the angst away.

Hockaday did something that most tournaments don’t. They posted Extemp breaks while the CX rounds were going. I didn’t mind; it was going to be news to me when I got the results, either way. I checked, and Amit, Cammie, Angie, Megan, Kenzie, Sue, and I were all in contention. Not bad at all.

LD got posted next; Kenzie and Callie were on to the next round.

Finally, CX. Lizzie and Janet, as expected, beat Zoe and Adam. There were hugs all around. Cammie and I won; so did Angie and Gene. Sue and Amit lost to a team from San Antonio.

The bad part about that was that Angie and Gene would face Janet and Lizzie. The good part was that, with two PQ’d teams in the top four, Angie and Gene qualified. That warranted many hugs. Callie was in the same boat, mostly — Kenzie and one of the others were qualified, so she was in. More hugs.

Extemp semis were good. Solid. I felt pretty good about my shot at finals. I went back to grab our cases and Cammie and I and Angie and Gene set out for our CX rounds, which were right next door to each other. I stepped into our room and stopped dead in my tracks.

Sitting at the table across from us were a guy and a girl. Tall. Not beautiful, but cute. Really cute. Wavy auburn hair, almost to a full red. Green eyes. A face I’d last seen ... maybe ... years from now. Or her twin. She glanced over at us, then looked to her partner.

“Steve!” she said. I jumped. Both the name, and ... that voice. A voice I hadn’t heard in over thirty years. “Steve, they’re here. We need to be ready now.”

“I’m ready, Laura! I’m ready, OK?”

She looked back and ... maybe she stared a little? I couldn’t tell, and I knew I was a bit jumpy. Not surprising, except that I couldn’t explain it to anyone.

Cammie nudged me. “Hey, get a move on!”

“Y ... yes.” I walked to our table in a daze.

Cammie whispered. “What’s gotten into you?”