Fat Boy vs. the Cheerleaders Page 18

  Dad didn’t respond. Grandpa said, “You gotta see this through, buddy.”

  And so I did.

  There were five thousand people at Wilson Beach. That’s bigger than the whole town of Minnekota, man. Wall of Sound is a big deal. Security guys at the event just kept nodding and waving us through the sea of people. Dad drove me right up behind the band shell.

  I got out of the car and there they all were—Austin in his sagging shorts (like my stretchies), Tess in her bikini top, Schae and Omar and Caitlyn and everybody.

  Yeah. Everybody. Justin and Camille too. Those guys had their instruments in one hand and were holding hands with the other. I sort of cried when I saw them. We all hugged pretty hard. Justin has to pay off all these repairs to his dad’s car interior. Sheep hooves cut right through the fabric, I guess.

  Everybody cheered when I got there too, which is also maybe what made me cry.

  It’s all sort of a blur. Ms. Feagan was back there. She pulled me aside and said I was on tap to give a short speech. I shrugged. The concert started. There were so many people, I could barely move. But everyone danced, which I liked. Wall of Sound played for forty-five minutes or so. Then Randall Andersson stopped singing and started talking about how important music programs were to him growing up. How he always had a hard time talking, always felt awkward, out of place, like a total outsider in his own hometown until Barry Shaver stuck a trombone in his hand. When he said the name Barry Shaver, everyone in the crowd cheered like crazy. Mr. Shaver has a lot of support in Minnekota, even if he acted like an idiot. Then Randall said, “In the past few weeks, there’s been a concerted effort to remove music from the high school here in the Lake Area.” People booed for about a minute straight. The booing was so loud, I could feel it vibrating in my chest. “But your kids wouldn’t take it. They wouldn’t accept their fate. Your kids stood up!” The boos turned to cheers. All the Geekers slapped me on the back. “Allow me to introduce you to Gabriel Johnson, leader of the resistance, and the rest of the Minnekota Lake Area High School Band!” All five thousand people screamed.

  I stood back there behind the band shell, totally stunned, sir. I couldn’t process, you know? Then Justin put his hand on my shoulder and shouted in my ear, “Get moving, man! Go!”

  I climbed up the steps. The Geekers climbed up behind me. The audience cheered like crazy. Randall handed me a mic. The sun set over the lake, so everything turned orange. I scanned the crowd in front of me. Ms. Feagan stood next to Dad right up front. And Gore and her dad stood next to Grandpa. Gore was just spilling tears too. I gave her a big smile and swallowed and looked out across the whole town of faces and just said, “We love you guys! The MLAHS band loves you. Everybody. It’s been such a crazy few days. We didn’t mean to do any harm at all. We don’t want to stop anyone from doing what they love, okay? We want the cheerleaders to dance and…and we want RC III out there throwing touchdowns for the football team. We don’t want to take anything away from anyone because we all need our thing. Geekers have to geek out, right?”

  The crowd whooped.

  But seriously. “We really need our thing. So much. We’re a band. We play music. We need to keep being a band! Thank you!”

  I know. Not the greatest speech. But I didn’t want to go on and on, you know?

  “How about a little rendition of ‘Tequila,’ Gabe?” Randall Andersson asked.

  “Yeah. Yeah,” I nodded. “Let’s do it!”

  Then Austin and Omar started pounding their drums and Jake from Wall of Sound started pounding along. Then Randall began directing. He gestured like Mr. Shaver and everybody on stage laughed. Then everybody in my band and his band (except me because I didn’t have my ’bone) raised their instruments and then bam. My band and Wall of Sound played the greatest version of “Tequila” ever played. Everybody danced. Everybody whooped and spun around. Everybody shouted “Tequila” at the right moment. All five thousand, including Gore, my dad, and my grandpa.

  Pretty amazing.

  Wall of Sound played another few songs. We slid back down the back steps. I had reporters from a few papers grab me right away. They’d already talked to Ms. Feagan. They’d talked to Chief Bartell. They knew all about the Spunk River War. They knew that I’d sent apology notes to the cheerleaders about the dirty pics. I told the story about the pop machine, how it nearly killed me. I told them about robbing it but how it wasn’t a robbery because Kailey Kaus was protesting with us and I said that she and J. D. Carlson were returning all the money. (I made that part up. Turns out J. D. couldn’t return all the money because he’d already spent some of it by the time he was arrested Sunday.) I said that I was tired of being called names and that I’d learned how crappy it is to call people names in general. Even if you think those people don’t care, they care and it hurts and robs people of their dignity. I sure hated being called a lard ass. I’m sure the cheerleaders didn’t enjoy getting called cheer bitches. I think that’s where the “Fat Boy vs. the Cheerleaders” headline came from. I told that story. But didn’t the Fargo reporter understand me? I don’t like getting called names!

  Ha-ha. Right. Better laugh than cry. In this case.

  Yeah, I talked to RC III Monday. He said, “Pops heard you on the radio. Says you should be proud.”

  I guess RC III’s pops doesn’t think RC III should be proud. He flew to Atlanta on Tuesday.

  I haven’t heard at all from Kailey. Do you know what’s happening with her?

  Justin told me last night that the dance school has a “For Sale” sign in front of it.

  What about Gore?

  Am I blushing?

  Since I’m grounded, she’s coming over for dinner tonight. She came over last night too. And Monday night. Me, her, and Grandpa hung out in the backyard. We had some lemonade. Grandpa was a little freaked out by her black clothes and fingernails and stuff. He definitely likes her though. “You don’t raise your voice and squawk like a chicken much, do you?” he asked her last night.

  “No,” she said.

  “I appreciate that.”

  Speaking of Grandpa. He’s flapping the banana hammock at us. See that?

  Waving it. We ran two miles yesterday. We’re swimming today, doing the Spunk River Challenge.

  Oh, man. Oh, man. Why didn’t I get a new suit? I’m going to strangle my boys again? I’m going to go all beached whale on it again?

  Yeah. Ha-ha. It’s worth it. Of course, Mr. Rodriguez. Who cares?

  I’m in control of my dignity. I have my dignity, for sure.

  Thanks, sir. Thanks again for your help.

  Time to swim. Take care, Mr. R.

  AFTERWORD

  The preceding document was submitted to Minnesota’s Seventh District Court as part of a successful lawsuit against the Minnekota Lake Area School Board, which led to the reinstatement of the high school’s band program and a pending review of the release of its director, Barry Shaver.

  Regarding the vending machine break-in, no charges were ever filed against Robert Carter, Chandra Wettlinger, Kailey Kaus, or Gabriel Johnson. Rick Kaus, the CEO of the Kaus Company, submitted that Kailey was simply doing her job by collecting the money. Because Robert Carter had a key to the school and no district policy exists against athletes using the school after hours, no charges of trespassing were leveled.

  Regarding other items related to the so-called Spunk River War, Seth Sellers and Janessa Rogers received fines for disorderly conduct. Mike Timlin and Raj Weigel pled guilty to a variety of misdemeanor charges, including petty theft and possession of illegal fireworks. Sentencing is pending. Camille Gardener and Justin Cornell received fines for trespassing and vandalism. They drove two sheep to the MLA High School in the backseat of Justin’s car. Justin is paying for repairs to said car in a private settlement with his parents.

  Katherine Kaus, who chaired the school board during its ruling on vending procee
ds, its decision to fire band director Barry Shaver, and its ruling that suspended the MLAHS band program, resigned from her post in the week following the upheaval. Although the Kaus Company continues operations in Minnekota, Katherine Kaus, her husband, Rick, and her daughter, Kailey, have since relocated to another state in order to refocus on the marriage and the family.

  Brian Deevers wrote a letter of apology to the community and remains the principal of MLA High School.

  Because of Gabriel Johnson’s activism, the offending pop machine has been removed from the high school cafeteria. A tenth of a percent increase in county property taxes will be on the ballot in the fall. The increase is intended to fund summer marching camp, a dance team, and, most importantly, a healthy breakfast program for all school-aged members of the district. According to a poll published in MLJournal.com, the increase has support from 77 percent of likely voters.

  Note:

  When Gabriel said during his follow-up interview that he was experiencing fifteen minutes of fame, he was correct. The Fat Boy vs. the Cheerleaders story faded quickly. I doubt very much that he’s bothered by this fact.

  The last time I saw Gabriel, walking the Lakeshore Path during Minnekota’s July Water Sports Festival, he looked healthy and content. He wore shorts. He held hands with a very tall girl in all black. He smiled at me, nodded, and then strolled away into the fading light.

  I thought, We did good work.

  —Henry P. Rodriguez, Attorney at Law

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks so much to my fantastic agent, Jim McCarthy. He’s guided me through so many projects now. One day, we’ll be old, Jim. This book couldn’t have happened without the guidance of Leah Hultenschmidt (I miss you!) and Todd Stocke. I’m so thankful to all the support and encouragement I receive from so many great people at Sourcebooks. On the home front, Stephanie Wilbur Ash is the best to hang with. I’m so lucky. She fires my imagination and makes me cry laughing. Leo, Mira, Christian, and Charlie, you are smart and hilarious and a source of unending inspiration. Speaking of inspiration, thank you to the kids of the Hillsboro School District, Hillsboro, Wisconsin, for the great messages of support you sent during the writing of this book. (Hillsboro is excellent and hilly.) Finally, thank you to the students and faculty of Minnesota State University, Mankato. I so appreciate your curiosity, energy, and kindness.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Growing up, Geoff Herbach was both dork and jock. Sports calmed him. People caused him anxiety. Offseason, Geoff was prone to kummerspeck, which is a German word meaning weight gain due to nervous eating. Its literal translation is grief bacon. Geoff teaches writing at Minnesota State, Mankato. Visit him at geoffherbach.com.