The Saucer Club Page 2

  Harold rolled up a piece of paper and bounced it off Randy's head. “Bullseye!”

  Johnny thought that the reason Harold picked on Randy so much was because it bothered all of the club members. “Knock it off.”

  “I should put a rock in a piece of crumpled up paper and ricochet it off his head.” Sam turned his attention to Randy. “What are you gonna do this summer Randy?”

  “I don't know yet.”

  Harold thought that one day he just might be a comedian making millions, and then he would get the last laugh. “He's gonna roll around in a wheelchair. What do you think he's gonna do?”

  Just then their teacher walked in with a big smile. “Class dismissed. Have a good summer and play safe. By the way class, the buzzer is broken, and we've all been here five minutes longer than we needed to be. The clock needs a new battery.”

  There was a simultaneous moan from the class. Five minutes of summer wasted, and they'd never get it back, but it was best not to think about it. They stampeded for the door as Miss Pennington told them not to run but it would have taken a whip to stop them. Summer was waiting, and they were late.

  Outside, Sam, Johnny, Jake and Michael met near the slides to discuss business. They were all on their identical black BMX Fly Bikes, and Sam noticed that Randy was alone near the parking lot waiting for his mother to pick him in their white van. Randy didn't look very happy on the happiest day of the year. He did feel sorry for him at times, but unfortunately, Randy was stuck in that chair. He was probably used to it but still.

  “I'm so happy I could explode,” said Michael.

  “Hey guys, you know what would really piss Harold off is if we did let Randy in the club.” Sam raised his eyebrows and showed them his cute smile. He wasn't sure if it was possible but he was willing to give it a try.

  Johnny had red hair and freckles and shook his head as he thought that it was an impossible idea. “How are we supposed to get him in the clubhouse? And how the hell would we get him out to the you-know-what? It is miles and miles into the woods. I wouldn't mind, but it's impossible.”

  They could see the look on Sam's face; they could almost hear the gears in his brain turning. He was, of course, trying to figure out a solution. “That's just it. Getting Randy out there would be half the fun. I bet we can do it. We'll make a stretcher and carry him into the forest, what's so hard about that?”

  “Carry him more than ten miles?” said Jake.

  Michael didn't look convinced. “What if he gets hurt? And how the hell are we supposed to get him across the river? Sam, are you forgetting about the river?”

  Sam considered it. “The river is not too deep in the summer. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but it'll be fun.”

  “How you gonna get him up in the clubhouse. He can't be a member if he can't get in the clubhouse. I like Randy, but I don't know how we can do it?” Jake popped a wheelie. “I like the idea of the challenge, though; that would probably be fun. Just to see the look on Randy's face when he sees the you-know-what would be worth it.”

  Michael was a little worried about Randy giving up their secret. No ordinary secret, it was classified information that some might kill them for it. “What if he tells? Then we're screwed. Maybe people wouldn't believe him, but it would only take one.”

  “I gave him a test in May, and as far as I know he told no one.” Randy turned his bike to face Michael. “I said that we had naked photos of Miss Pennington, told him to keep it a secret, and never heard anything else about it. That's how you know if someone can keep a secret, say something so juicy that they have to tell someone else.”

  Michael nodded. “All right, I'll vote him in. We can give it a try and if it doesn't work it doesn't work. It could be even more dangerous carrying a stretcher. How we gonna run away from a bear?”

  Johnny shrugged. “I don't know guys. I abstain. Is that the right word?”

  “Well, that's two votes for yes, so you guys don't even need my vote because he's in.” Jake stared at Randy. “Call him over. We're gonna need extra food for energy.”

  Sam shouted a little louder than he had to. “Hey, Randy come here!”

  Harold took off for home, almost hitting Sam with his bike, accidentally on purpose. He was such a jerk that Sam would like to put him in a catapult and fling him. He could imagine him as a speck flying through the blue sky and hitting with a cartoon splat!

  Randy turned and wheeled over, noticing that the guys all had weird looking smiles, what were they up to now? His parents were a little late as usual. “Hey, guys what's up?”

  “Randy, how would you like to join our club?” Sam nudged Jonny.

  “I'm not in the mood for jokes guys. I think my parents are getting a divorce. All they do is fight. There's more fighting at my house than in a boxing ring.”

  The silence was awkward. With something that serious, there were no easy solutions. That was adult business. If they did get divorced Randy knew that a lot of things would change because some had already changed. His father was spending too much time in the bar after work, probably spending too much money too. They would make promises they wouldn't keep. Life had thrown a curveball that was impossible to hit, and unlike a real one, there was nothing to be appreciated where belligerent parents were concerned. Johnny had gone through it with his parents, and he felt sorry for Randy.

  Sam popped a wheelie with his bike. “That's a shame, but we're not joking. It might take us a week to figure out how to get you up to the clubhouse for the oath but if you want in we'll do it. But you have to be able to keep a big secret.”

  Randy thought about it and what they were saying sounded impossible to him, but anything would be better than listening to his mother and father scream all summer. “Sure, I'm in. But if you guys drop me and I end up in two wheelchairs like Harold said I'm not gonna be happy.”

  “Yeah,” said Jake. “You could have your head in one and your body in the other.”

  “You really have to be able to keep a secret. Even if you got drunk, you still couldn't spill it. And even if they pull your fingernails out, one by one, with blood oozing everywhere and the burning and the pain.” Johnny wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

  “Oh sure I'm gonna get drunk. If they pull my nails out, I'll tell them that the president is white. Holy crap I can keep a secret already. Have you guys captured a Russian spy and you're keeping him in a box in the woods or what?”

  Sam held his hand out for Randy to slap it. “Meet us at the clubhouse at around six tonight and we'll talk about it.”

  “There's your van,” said Michael.

  Chapter Two

  The town of Blue-sky Colorado had a population of just over seven thousand people. It was a quaint place to live; everyone was proud to be an American and, for the most part, got along with others. The kids loved to play baseball, and the adults liked to watch and encourage their children to play hard, and occasionally a parent became angry at the umpire's call and got overly excited, but it wasn't often. The mountains in the background made it a picture perfect place to raise a family. God had done a wonderful job at painting this part of the country and many artists came to paint the scenery.

  Randy rolled up his ramp and stopped before he entered; the sound of his parents fighting made him flinch. They were consistent if nothing else. The argument was about his father drinking too much and spending too much money. It seemed to him that they got along a lot better before his accident; they seemed happy then. He couldn't remember the last time they had laughed together. He remembered the time his father had fallen downstairs, right from the top to the bottom, with his arms and legs flying everywhere, and when he got to the bottom he simply went to sleep; Randy had been so scared. His mother had said that if he hadn't been drunk he would have probably broken his neck. Randy shook his head at the thought of his father in a wheelchair too.

  “I didn't have anything to drink today!”

  “You're a liar! I can smell it off you!”

  “I only h
ad one glass of beer!”

  As soon as Randy entered everything got quiet, an awkward silence that was even more disturbing than all the shouting. The disappointed look on his mother's face told the story, she was in emotional pain. His father John immediately left the house and slammed the screen door so hard that Randy was sure he broke it. An old woman across the street was watching and shaking her head as she disapproved of all the fighting, but she was always happy to watch the goings-on. “There's nothing to see here, move along!” Randy sometimes shouted.

  Stella forced a smile for Randy's sake. “Another school year gone. Before you know it you'll be going off to college.”

  “Rolling off to college,” said Randy. “I'm thinking about playing pro football. Who's gonna hit a guy in a wheelchair?” He was trying to be funny to lighten the mood but she didn't take it that way.

  She cursed. “Don't you start! I've put up with enough crap today!” Stella ran upstairs and slammed her bedroom door almost as hard as he father had slammed the screen door.

  Randy flung his report card on the sofa like tossing a Frisbee. “I'm going outside to get hit by another car.” He said it because he knew she couldn't hear him; he knew it was a stupid thing to say as soon as he said it. Maybe it was his fault that they were getting a divorce, that's if they were getting one. No one had actually said the word but they certainly didn't want to be together. He wouldn't be surprised to find his father with his mother in a headlock one of these days. Maybe he would give her a piledriver. “Summer is off to a good start.” He mumbled and then went back outside, he rolled into the driveway where he saw his father parked on the side of the road with his head on the steering wheel. His Dad sat up straight, flooring the Toyota and peeling away.

  “Don't run over any kids,” Randy whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and just listened to the sounds of the birds singing and when he opened them he could see Sam peddling his bike from way down the road with the mountains in the background. He was peddling as fast as he could and kept watching until he screeched his brakes in front of him. “We decided to have the meeting right now unless you're busy?”

  Randy cocked his head as he pretended to think. “Wait let me check my schedule. I have to pick my nose later but that's about it.”

  “Here, grab this and hold on.” He handed Randy a stick with a rope tied to it. Hold on tight.”

  “Don't go too fast my wheelchair will tip over.”

  “I won't.”

  Sam peddled his bike up the slight incline, looking back to see if Randy was okay and he was. They arrived at Randy's townhouse where Michael, Johnny and Jake were waiting in the backyard at the tree house, and they all appeared to be in good spirits.

  Jake was genuinely happy to see Randy. “Hey Randy, are you ready for the clubhouse?”

  Randy shrugged because he didn't think it was possible for them to get him up there; he stared way up at the entrance to the club. “How the hell am I supposed to get up there? A catapult? Splat!”

  They all laughed.

  “Here, take a look at this.” Michael showed Randy a diagram that he had drawn of a pulley system. The drawing was impressive, considering that he had finished it in less than two hours. “See, we're going to use a counter-weight and pull you up. At least two guys will be up there to pull you in. It should work.”

  Randy again looked up at the entrance to the clubhouse which was about a dozen feet off the ground. If he fell from that height it could definitely be a serious fall, maybe he would break an arm or a leg. “I don't know that looks dangerous. I'll probably fall on my head, and then I'll not only be in a wheelchair I'll be stupid too.”

  Sam went over to Randy. “It might be the only way.” He started thinking, and they knew not to interrupt Sam when he was deep in thought. “Hey, what if I took the mattress off my bed and put it right there, so if you fall, which you won't, but if you did it would be on the mattress?”

  Randy raised his eyebrows as he pictured himself bouncing off the mattress. “That could work. It would make me feel safer and it sounds a lot better than hitting the ground.”

  The next hour was a time of trial and error as they worked on securing Randy to the ropes and then using a fifty pound bag of potatoes as a counter weight along with some of his father's weights from the basement. When they were ready for the first attempt it was time to get the mattress.

  “Wait here Randy. Come on guys.”

  “Wait here? Where am I going to go like this?” Randy watched as they all marched into the house, wondering what the heck he was getting himself into.

  Upstairs in Sam's bedroom he quickly tore the blanket and sheets off his bed and then they started down the stairs. The four of them were stopped by Sam's mother on the way down with the mattress. “Sam, what on earth do you think you're doing? You put that back on your bed.”

  Sam's father spoke up from behind a Piers Anthony novel as he was relaxing on his La-Z-Boy recliner. “Leave him alone. I know what he's doing. Sam, you're gonna put it back when you're finished right?”

  “Of course I'd have no bed if I didn't.”

  “Carry on then.”

  Sam's mother gave his father a stern look because she didn't think it was proper for him to go over her head like that; they needed to be in sync as parents. She watched them carry the mattress outside and wondered how dirty it would be when they brought it back in.

  They carried the mattress and placed it under the clubhouse in what they considered the perfect position and they all jumped on it once to test it out. Then they got to the business of getting Randy out of his chair and up into the clubhouse. The first attempt had Randy hanging dangerously upside down over the mattress with blood rushing to his head. The second attempt had him higher but in an awkward position, sideways. It was definitely hard on the arms. Then they had him hanging up near the entrance in the proper position but they still had to safely pull him in. It was easier said than accomplished, but finally they got him in the clubhouse though he did bang his head on the way in.

  “Ow that freaking hurt!”

  Sam smiled. “Good job guys! That really wasn't so bad.”

  “Didn't you hear the freaking hurt part?” Randy looked around and was impressed with what he saw. Photographs of Mars, two naked women against the far wall, baseball cards in a frame, a flying disk nailed to the wall. “You're not scared that your father is gonna come up here and see those two naked?”

  “Naw, he never comes up here. Nice boobs huh?”

  “Really nice.”

  Michael laughed. “Look at Randy's face! His eyes are going to pop out of his head like a cartoon.”

  “What?” said Sam.

  “I didn't say anything,” said Michael.

  Sam punched Michael on the shoulder. “You should have seen Michael when I first put her picture up there. He couldn't take her eyes off her for a whole month.”

  “So. I caught Sam kissing her boobs when I climbed up here Saturday morning.”

  “Did not! Anyway, we have more important business than her boobs.” Sam sat at the small table and banged his little wooden hammer. “I call this meeting to order.”

  “Sam here's your sandwiches!” Sam's mother threw them up with difficulty; taking three attempts for her to get it close enough to the door for Sam to grab the sealed plastic bag.”

  They would wait before chowing down on their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, but the smell of peanut butter was making Jake hungry.

  “Randy, before you join this club you have to take an oath. And you have to take it serious. This might be the most important thing you do in your whole life so you need to be as serious as a lion chasing his lunch.” Johnny nodded which started everyone nodding. “If you tell our secret you're gonna get it. Wheelchair or not we'll beat the shit out of you.”

  “Ok I get it.”

  “We'll roll you off a cliff!” said Johnny.

  Jake had a serious face. “We're serious Randy. No matter what we say you are not go
ing to believe it until you see it. It doesn't matter if you believe it you still can't tell anyone. Not your father, not your mother and not even your cat. Don't even talk in your sleep.”

  Michael nodded. “Keeping this secret might even be against the law.”

  Johnny was staring up at the naked babe. “And even after you see it you're still not going to believe it. It's the biggest secret on the planet and you're lucky that we're letting you in on it. You're gonna have to take a blood oath.”

  Now that got Randy's attention. Were they joking about the blood oath? His curiosity was peeked. He really couldn't imagine what the heck they were talking about and he didn't like the sound of that blood oath. Did they want to slice his hand open or what? This club might be a little too intense.

  Jake hit Johnny in the head with a rolled up piece of paper to make him stop staring at the naked photo. “Yeah, a blood oath. What? Not my fault her boobs are so nice.”

  Now Randy was a little worried. “What kind of blood oath? I don't want to be cut with a knife.”

  Sam shook his head. “We pick all our fingers with a needle until they bleed, and then we mix them together and you promise never to tell.”

  They became quiet as they all looked at Randy, which was making him uncomfortable. Jake bet Michael five dollars that he wouldn't do it. They all looked at one another with stern eyes until Randy had to laugh. “You should see your faces. Yeah alright I'll do it. I have to know what the secret is. Is it Bigfoot? You have Bigfoot tied up in the forest?”

  Sam smiled. “Nah, it's better than Bigfoot. Wait till you see it. I bet we could sell it for a million bucks. Ten million probably. Maybe even a billion.”

  Randy was ready to burst from curiosity. What could they possibly have that would be worth so much? Of course it was a lot more likely that it was sort of game they were playing, although they had always been kind to him, even protective. “What did you guys find? Pirate treasure? Hell I hope its pirate treasure.”