The Zombies and The Fisher Kings

The Zombies and the Fisher Kings

By Jeff Van Dell

Thursday Afternoon

 “Come on Dad, put the pedal to the metal!”

“Have faith Zack. We’ll make it in time. It will be close, but we’ll be there.” said Mr. Margolis.

Zack was pushed back into his seat as the car accelerated.

“We should have left earlier.”

“Look I’m sorry. I had a late appointment with a client and I couldn’t just leave him. He might lose his license.” Zack’s dad took a sip of diet soda.

“Was he driving while intoxicated?” asked Zack.

“No, he was driving while stupid. He was talking on his cell phone and didn’t notice that a state trooper was trying to pull him over. He drove six miles while the trooper had the lights and sirens going.” His dad raised an eyebrow and smirked into the rearview mirror.

John Margolis was a lawyer’s assistant and was always dealing with people who were in trouble with the law.

“If I’m not there by the time it closes we forfeit our place in the tournament dad.” Zach sighed and fidgeted in the seat.

“Only two more exits to go buddy. Well get there with time to spare.”

Zach heard an ominous grinding sound coming from the front of the car. He fingered the trigger of his paintball marker. Because his father was so late picking him up he didn’t bother putting it in the bag. He loaded the hopper with paintballs, put his facemask on top of his head, grabbed his gear bag, and ran out the door. Only the carbon dioxide tank was unconnected from the marker. Zach knew that as soon as the car was stopped he could have the tank attached in less than four seconds. His paintball team, the Zombies, had practiced that maneuver over and over again.

“Uh oh, Um Zack…”

“What is it Dad?” he asked apprehensively.

The grinding sound was now louder than the stereo, which had been blaring a CD Mr. Margolis’ favorite bible teacher. Mr. Margolis quickly pulled the car across two lanes of highway and into the breakdown lane as all the lights on the dashboard lit up at once and the car coasted to a stop.

“I don’t know what’s wrong. Zach, toss me the cell phone and I’ll call mom. She’s working in the store today and it’s only another exit up the road. She can zip down here and take you.” He said, reaching his hand behind him, palm up.

“I thought you had it dad?” said Zach.

“I told you to get it off the table. It’s not in your bag? I thought I saw you put it in there.”

“Nuts!” said Zach. He began pulling every item out of his gear bag and putting it on the seat next to him. “I’ve got my barrel cleaner rod, spare baggies of paint, spare pods, sun glasses, an extra face place for the mask, two energy drinks, and a hand full of tootsie rolls I swiped from your desk last week. No cell phone dad.”

“Well…I…um.” Mr. Margolis wiped his brow with his hand.

“Darn it dad! If you weren’t late we wouldn’t have been in such a rush and I would have remembered it.” Zach was almost shouting at his father.

“Oh no, wait! It was in my pocket the whole time.” Zach fished the silver cell phone out of his camouflage pant’s deep pockets. As he dialed the number he gave his dad a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I understand that you’re upset.” Mr. Margolis tried starting the car but the engine wouldn’t turn over. Silver ribbons of steam wafted up from under the hood.

Zach heard the phone ring four times then the answering machine came on.

“This is Anita Margolis of Anita’s Kayak and Camping. I’m not in the store right now. Please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. God bless you, and have a great day.”

Zach explained the situation into the answering machine and then handed the phone to his father who called the auto service.

“The tow truck will be here in a half hour.” said Mr. Margolis.

Zach slammed his fist against the seat in frustration. He’d been waiting a long time to sign up for this paintball tournament with his team and now it looked as though he waited too long. Procrastination got the better of him, again.

“Can’t you call any of your friends? Maybe one of their dads can come get you. We’re only a few miles away.” Mr. Margolis handed the phone back to Zach.

Zack dialed Mike’s number because he was the only kid on the team with his own cell phone, checking account, cell phone, and a pierced ear. Mike picked up after the first ring.

“Where are you dude? We’re all waiting for you. If we don’t register in fifteen minutes you can’t play with us as a team.” Mike said something to the other members of the Zombies.

Zach explained the situation. Mike was sympathetic but not helpful.

“Look Z, if you can’t get here for registration we have to register without you.” He said.

Frustration burned in Zach’s gut. He wondered if his father would let him hitchhike.

“Mike, can’t you explain the situation to them. I’m broken down!”

“No, I asked. The rules say that if we want to play as a team then we all have to be here to register.” Mike said something to one of the others that Zach couldn’t understand.

“But Mike, you only have four guys. You need five for a team.”

There was static on the phone for a few seconds. Zach thought they’d lost the connection, then Chris, another Zombie, came on the phone.

“Hey Zach, listen, James came to play today. If you can’t make it by five then we’re going to ask him to be our fifth guy. I’m sorry. I know it stinks but he’s here and you’re not. I’ve got to go.”

“But we’re a team! We trained for months for this tournament! I’m the one who got the team together in the first place!” Zach said. “Dad, can’t you do anything?”

“I’m sorry son.” Zach’s dad looked frustrated an upset. He put his head in his hands. Zach knew he was probably praying, which was what he did whenever he was faced with an impossible situation.

“Z, you still there?” asked Mike.

“Mike, I can make it there. I’m going to hitchhike!” Zack reached for the door handle and started pulling it open.

“No, you are most certainly not hitchhiking.” Said Mr. Margolis as he reached over the back seat and pulled the door shut. “That is not an option.”

“Don’t bother Z. We’re signing the forms now and paying the entrance fee. You can always play as a free agent with another group of guys.” Mike said hopefully.

“But you are my team!”  Zack yelled in frustration into the phone.

“Sorry Z. We’ll see you at school tomorrow.” Mike hung up.

Zach looked at the dead phone for a second then threw it against the back seat in frustration. It bounced once and fell to the floor. Zack buried his head in his hands and cried silently at the unfairness of it all.

The Zombies were my team. I started it and now I’m going to sit on the sidelines as they play in the tournament without me.

Zack stopped crying by the time his mother called to say she would come and pick them up. But by then it was too late.

Friday

At school the next day Zack avoided Mike, Chris, and his other Zombie teammates until after lunch when they all had science class together.

Mike tried to smooth things over by telling him some dirty jokes, but Zack wasn’t in the mood and didn’t respond.

“Hey, we’re still your teammates.” said Mike as they got seated in the science lab.

Ex-teammates. Zack thought, bitterly.

Mr. Humphries was a very round, very jolly man who taught science and coached boy’s baseball.

“All right young minds, all your materials have been laid out and you have your workbooks. I’ll come around and check up on you but it’s up to you to perform this simple experiment properly. Follow the directions and you’ll do fine. Don’t forget to record your observations in your journals.”  Mr. Humphries walked around the room and noticed that Zach was working alone.

“Mr. Margolis, you look lonely! Where is your lab partner? It’s Miss Kavanaugh isn’t it?” He looked at his grade book and frowned. “We can’t have you doing this alone because one student stirs while the other observes and records the time.”

“Judy has chicken pox Mr. Humphries. She got it from her baby sister.” said Kelsey, Judy’s best friend.

“Oh how wonderful! She can take pictures and record the progress of her virus she’ll earn extra credit and we can all learn something. I hope she doesn’t scratch, it leaves scars. Have you all had your vaccinations?” said Mr. Humphries.

Several of the students rolled their eyes at their eccentric teacher’s behavior, which they had grown used to over the years. Mr. Humphries looked around the room and noticed that James Lassonde was also working alone. Zach saw Mr. Humphries looking between he and James and knew what was coming.

“Mr. Margolis and Mr. Lassonde, please work together. We can save the school a little money by having you collaborate. That’s right Mr. Lassonde, get your things and move to Zachary’s table.” Mr. Humphries smiled and moved around the room in quick little steps, like a beetle, checking the student’s progress and making suggestions and comments.

Zach moved his stool over to accommodate James.

“Hi Zack.” said James with a nod.

“Hey. Do you want to stir or record?” Zack wanted to hate James for taking his place on the team but couldn’t. James’s mother had died at the beginning of the year and Zack’s family had gone to the wake and the funeral. James had been easygoing and quiet before his mother died. Now he was quiet and moody.

“I don’t care. My handwriting is lousy, why don’t I stir in the chemicals?” said James.

“Sure.”

Working at a useful task helped Zack forget about his woes for a while and he allowed himself a smile. Zack and James finished the lesson and received a compliment from Mr. Humphries for the thoroughness of their observations. Unfortunately, James brought up the previous day’s events while they were cleaning up.

“Your team is really good. I mean, they all play together like they know what each of them is going to do. I didn’t try to steal your spot or anything.” said James.

Zach was feeling envious and proud, bitter and sad. He felt caught between wanting to smack James on the head with the glass stirring-rod and giving him advice on how to play paintball. He was about to ask James if he wanted his Zombie team shirt when he looked over and saw Mike and Chris pointing at him and whispering. He thought he saw Mike making a rude gesture towards him.

Zach said, “Mike is sneaky, watch your back James. I know I should have.”

“Whatever.” said James. “It wasn’t like I was begging to be on the team. I just want one of those cool new markers they’re giving away as a prize.”

James walked out of the lab with Mike and Chris who gave him smiles and high fives.

Saturday

Saturdays were busy at the Margolis’ house. Zack worked half the day at his mother’s store, helping customers, hauling rental kayaks and canoes in and out of the water, and doing any one of the thousands of things it took to keep a business going.

At noon Zack split a steak and cheese sub with his mother during a lull between the waves of customers that washed into the store.

“So what are you going to do now?” Mrs. Margolis asked Zack.

“What do you mean?” Said Zack, although it sounded like,”Hmwt oo oo hmnn?” because he had a mouthful of steak.

Zack held up a finger while he chewed and swallowed.

“I don’t know. I’m not on the team, there’s no practice for me today.” He said dejectedly.

“Do you want to stay and work here, sock away some money for the summer?” asked his mom.

“Yea sure, I guess. Can we go for a ride on the lake later?” Zack enjoyed going out on the lake with his mother in her two-person kayak.

“I’d be delighted!” She bubbled.

The remainder of the day passed quickly. After the last customer left his mom locked the door and they put the kayak in the water and paddled out to the middle of the lake where Zack liked to fish. The setting sun was magnificent and Zack cast his line out as twilight approached. His mother read from a miniature bible she always had with her.

Insert fishing story here. Miraculous catch of fish.

The setting sun reminded Zack of a nuclear bomb he saw in a DVD about World War II at school.

“Mom, do you think Jesus will come back before we die?”

“I kind of hope he does and I kind of hope he doesn’t.” Mrs. Margolis paddled the kayak to hold it in place.

Zack felt a tug on his line and quickly reeled in an undersized trout. He unhooked it and let it go back into the water.

“Why do you hope he doesn’t?” He asked.

“Well, the world is a pretty horrible place, isn’t it? Look at what happened to those people in Africa. They were all blown up. I want Jesus to come back and be the King of the World because we haven’t done all that well running things.” She said.

Zack felt another tug on the line and reeled in the same small trout. Again, he let it go.

“Why do you hope he won’t come back?”

Mrs. Margolis turned to look at Zack and smile. “I’d like to see you and your sister grown up, enjoying kids of your own someday. I’d love it if Nana and Grampa and my brother came to know God. I’d like to go to China and teach English as a missionary for a few years.”

“China? It’s so far away. Don’t you have to know Chinese first?” The idea of Zack’s mother in teaching English in China was alien to him. He’d never heard her express that desire before.

Zack felt another tug on his line and pulled the same little trout in for the third time. He released it again.

“Well, he’s tenacious.” He said.

“You can learn a lot about a fish.”

“Like don’t take the same bait three times in a row?”

“No, like don’t give up until you get what you want.”

 “I wanted to play in the tournament.”

“What’s stopping you Zack?”

“My team stopped me.” Zack noticed a ripple in the water and jerked his lure with a flick of the wrist.

“So find another team.”

“It’s not that easy mom.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is honey. Look at how long it took me to get my business going.”

“But they were my team.” Zack knew he sounded like whiner as soon as he said it and he hated himself for it.

“Are you going to let that keep you from doing what you want? You can still play in the tournament but you’ll just have to find other people to play with. I bet if you asked around you could find a lot of people who would want to play with you.”

“It wouldn’t be the same. I played with the Zombies for months. We had a good thing going.”

“And you could have it again if you’re willing to work for it. Anyway, as I recall you were the one organizing all the times you practiced together. You were the one who bought videos made everyone practice the drills you learned and not just shoot like maniacs in the woods. You even designed your team logo and hand made the t-shirts. I think you need to give yourself a little more credit.”

Zack thought about what his mother said. When he heard her say it he realized that he made the team. Mike and the others talked up the Zombies and had great gear, but Zack was the one who took care of all the details. He wondered who was taking care of the details now that he wasn’t there to do it. The tournament was one month away.

“There isn’t enough time to work up a new team mom. Maybe I’ll find a team to play with for the winter tournament or play alone in the singles contest.”

“You hate playing alone!” shouted his mother.

“Shhh! You’re going to scare the fish.”

Zack’s fishing reel whirred and the red and white bobber zoomed off across the surface of the placid lake. After five minutes of carefully reeling in the line Zack bagged a large trout that he wouldn’t be throwing back.

“Can I have it for dinner?” He asked his mom.

“Sure, as long as you clean it, and I get a bite or two.” Mrs. Margolis loved trout.

“It’s huge mom, I’ll split it with you.”

“We have a deal.”

On the ride home Zack’s mother asked him why he didn’t give up fishing after catching the same undersized trout three times.

“I don’t know, hunger?” He quipped.

“Faith, Zack. You should have faith in yourself and in God.”

“You think God wants me to fish mom?”

“I think he wants you to succeed and give him honor and glory when you do.”

“Mom, I only threw the line in the water with some bait.”

“Faith is faith Zack, starting a paintball team or throwing your line in the water. You’ve proven that you can do both, right?”

“You think it’s that easy mom?”

“No, but as an act of faith maybe you should just bait your hook and throw it in the water. God will provide.”

“Fish?”

“Everything.”

That night while Zack’s sister, Zoe, and her father ate leftover pasta Zack’s mother fried the trout in an iron skillet after dredging it in flour and seasoning it with salt and pepper. It was the best meal he’d had all week. Lying in bed before he fell asleep Zack made a mental list of people he knew who played paintball and wondered how quickly he could put a team together.

Sunday

For as long as they could remember Zachary and Zoe Margolis had spent every Sunday morning in church. The inviolate rule in the Margolis household was that unless you were going to infect someone with an infectious virus or bacteria you had to be at church. For the most part Zack and Zoe didn’t mind being there.

The Lord’s Chapel had modern rock songs with bible verses for lyrics and a cool Sunday school program that included movies, games, and occasional service trips where they visited elderly people who couldn’t get out to church.

For as long as he could remember Zack’s sister Zoe could never make the forty-five minute drive to church without needing to stop to use a bathroom. Instead of torturing Zoe to make her hold it the Margolis’ decided to make a stop halfway to church at a fast food restaurant. Mrs. Margolis appreciated not having to make breakfast on Sunday morning and as long as they weren’t late for church the ever-frugal Mr. Margolis didn’t mind the small expense.

Zack ordered a breakfast sandwich and hot chocolate and sat down on the uncomfortable plastic seat. They were the only family in the restaurant at that hour. They held hands and Mr. Margolis prayed then they ate.

“Pancakes are kind of dry this morning.” said Mr. Margolis.

“That’s why God made Maple trees darling.” said his wife, who gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Please no P.D.A.’s parental units.” said Zoe, who was looking around self-consciously.

Mr. Margolis pulled his daughter to him and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Dad!” Whined Zoe, but she didn’t pull away from him.

“Don’t worry, honey, none of your friends are around.” Mr. Margolis dumped another container of syrup on his pancakes and frowned.

“Hey, there’s Terry Jones and his dad. He’s wearing gross clothes!” said Zoe.

Sure enough a very tall, thin, black young man and his taller father entered the restaurant. Zack stared at him, not because he was tall and black but because of what he was wearing.

“He plays paintball? I thought he was a basketball star?” Said Zach.

Terry Jones wore a one-piece camouflage suit that had paintball stains, old ones by the look of them.

“He’s getting a basketball scholarship to Central Catholic next year. His father told me when he came in to check out canoes last week.” Said Mrs. Margolis. “Come on guys, let’s not be late.”

Zack cleaned off the table while his father pulled the car around and the women used the bathroom.

Zack’s mother came out of the bathroom and walked over to Terry Jones’s table. Mr. Jones stood up to shake her hand.

“That canoe is fantastic Mrs. Margolis.” He said in a deep, booming voice. “We’re going on a canoeing and camping trip the week school lets out back at my Pa’s house in Alabama. I sure do miss it there. It’s too cold for these bones.”

“I’m glad you like it. Are you two playing paintball today? My son Zachary plays, have you two met?” His mother put her hand on Zack’s shoulder and pulled him closer to her.

Zack took his mother’s cue, stuck his hand out to Mr. Jones and said, “Pleased to meet you sir.”

“Likewise. You know Terry’s quite the athlete. I assume you’ve seen him play?” He asked.

Zack didn’t know if Mr. Jones meant play basketball or paintball so he split the difference by saying, “He’s really good.”

Mr. Jones smiled but Terry Jones looked embarrassed said, “Dad…” then rolled his eyes and took a huge bite of his sandwich.

Zack was about to ask Terry about paintball when Zoe came out of the bathroom and his father honked the horn out front.

Mrs. Margolis smiled at the Jones men and said, “Well I hope you have fun today. Let me know if there’s anything else you need for your camping trip.”

Zack’s opportunity passed and he sighed to himself.

In the car Zack said, “I’d love to have him on my team. He’s fast and really tall!”

“Not a chance Zack. Terry wouldn’t be caught dead with a sixth grader. He mostly hangs out with guys from Central.”

After church Zack helped his dad clean up the back yard then did a little homework until dinner. The Margolis family didn’t watch television or use their computer on Sundays so the family was forced to read books, go on outings, or play games together. Whenever one of them complained about it Mrs. Margolis would simply say, “We’re being subversive!”

Zack didn’t quite understand how it was subversive but he enjoyed spending time with his family without staring at the television. He also enjoyed receiving pay from his mother’s store. His parents made him give ten percent to the church and put ten percent in a savings account he wasn’t allowed to touch. He usually saved the rest to spend on paintball and comic books, which he’d been collecting since second grade.

Over a game of Monopoly Zack said, “I have enough to play paintball this week but no one to play with.”

“Don’t look at me. I don’t want bruises all over my body. The lake will be warm enough to swim in and I’m getting a bikini.” Said Zoe.

“You are not getting a bikini.” said Mr. Margolis.

“It’s blue and it enhances my eyes.” said Zoe, rolling the dice.

“That’s not all it enhances.” Zack muttered with a smirk.

“You’re not getting a bikini!” said both her parents simultaneously.

“And I have a dress all picked out for the 8th grade formal.” Zoe gushed. “It has Spaghetti  Straps and a really low cut back.”

Mr. Margolis yawned and said, “You’re not wearing a low cut dress with spaghetti straps.”

“It’s green and it makes my hair look lustrous.” Zoe moved her ship onto Zack’s property and had to pay him three-hundred dollars. “I’m out, bankrupt again!”

“Ok, everyone’s tired. How about we have dessert, then bedtime?” Mrs. Margolis began putting away the game. “Zack, why don’t you dish up some ice-cream for your father?”

In the kitchen Zack filled a little bowl with mint chocolate chip ice-cream for his father and noticed a flyer from a church brochure on the table.

“$5000.00 is needed by the missions team to build a simple cinderblock medical clinic for our sister church in poverty stricken Nicaragua. Please give what you can by May 29th for God’s work there.”

Zack read the flyer again. Five thousand dollars was the amount of prize money in the paintball tournament. In a flash of inspiration Zack bowed his head, closed his eyes, and prayed, “God, if you help me put together a team and I win I’ll give you my share of the money.”

“You’ll give what money?” asked Zoe, who could sneak up on anyone, like a cat.

“No one, do you want some ice cream too?” He asked.

“No way, I need to lose ten pounds to fit into my bikini.” She looked at the bowl and frowned. “Maybe I’ll take just one scoop.” She said, pulling a bowl down from the cabinet and setting it down in front of Zack.

Zack put a small scoop into the large bowl and Zoe looked at it forlornly.

“Maybe you should put in just one more.” She said.

 Laundry and Balloons

After school on Monday Zack was surprised to see his father pull the car up to pick up he and Zoe instead of their mother.

“Hi guys, I took some time off for a little surprise for Zack.” Said Mr. Margolis.

“Why does Zack get a surprise?” Asked Zoe, who had an uncanny sense of fairness, at least when it came to surprises.

“Oh don’t worry honey, your mother has a surprise for you too and it involves clothes.” Mr. Margolis said with a smirk.

“I love shopping!” squealed Zoe.

“What’s the surprise dad?” Asked Zack

“You’ll see.” sang his father.

They dropped Zoe off at home. Before she got out of the car she gave her father a big hug. “Thanks for the bikini daddy. You’re the best!”

After Zoe shut the door Mr. Margolis said, “Her surprise involves clothes but not the way she thinks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mom’s going to teach Zoe to do her own laundry from now on. She’ll be in high school next year and your mother thinks it’s high time she start washing her own under ware.” Mr. Margolis chuckled to himself.

“What’s my surprise?” asked Zack apprehensively.

“It’s something better than doing laundry.”

Zack knew where they were going as soon as his father took the exit for Canobee Paintball.

“We’re playing paintball?” asked Zack.

“I put your stuff in the trunk. I’ll have to rent but there’s usually no one there on Monday’s. We’ll probably have the place to ourselves.

After getting their gear and a referee to monitor their game, they went out to the field to play a game of capture the flag. Zack had played with his dad many times, but never one on one. He took up a position in front of his flag behind a two-foot high brick wall. Testing his marker, he let loose three rounds at a tree forty yards away and hit the spot he was aiming at dead center on the third shot. He adjusted his mask and peeked above the wall to see if he could spot where his father was.

Scanning the area where the “enemy” flag was he noticed a boot move that was poking out from behind a log.

“Gotcha!” He whispered.

In his tree stand above the field the referee shouted, “At the sound of the horn you may begin your game!”

Zack’s heart was racing with the familiar adrenaline rush he experienced before every paintball match. Despite the cool weather, a bead a sweat moved slowly down his face and into his left eye. It stung. Zack focused his breathing and tensed his legs in anticipation of the…

At the sound of the horn Zack shot out from behind the short wall firing directly where he’d seen his father’s boot unloading a ceaseless barrage of splattering rounds into the motionless boot. The second he stepped over the wall he realized his mistake. His father shot him on the front of the faceplate from his concealed position ten yards away from the boot.
“Splat!” went the round against his mask. Purple paint dripped down his faceplate, obscuring his vision. Zack held up his marker in surrender and the referee blew the air horn to signal the end of the ridiculously short match.

“That’s some kind of record Mr. Margolis.” shouted the referee. “I counted ten seconds.”

“Sorry Zack! I knew I couldn’t beat your accuracy so I went for a sneaky game play.” yelled Mr. Margolis.

“Your butt is mine dad. Feel my wrath!” Zack screamed a war cry.

The referee rang a hand bell and signaled that it was safe for players to remove their masks. Zack felt weird taking off his mask inside a play area because the rules almost never allowed for it unless a player was injured or his equipment malfunctioned. He used a quick wipe to clear off his faceplate then put his mask back on.

“Hey Zack, check it out, I’m shaking my booty!” Mr. Margolis swung his boot around his head on a long piece of fishing line.

Once again, the referee called for them to take their places and gave the ten second warning. Zack hid behind a sand-filled trash can and listened as the referee counted down.

“Ten, Nine, Eight…”

In a burst of inspiration and adrenaline Zack shot up and out from behind the trash can burst across an open section of the field as quickly and quietly as he could.

“Three, Two, One,” Shouted the referee.

Zack threw him self down on the ground next to a pile of rocks just as the referee sounded the air horn. He hoped the noise of the horn had drowned out his crash to the ground.

Zack willed himself to be invisible. He shut his eyes, held his breath and listened for any tell-tale sign of his father. Birds, crickets, leaves rustling, a dog barking, car noise from the highway to his left all competed in his brain’s audio processing center. Zack waited, and waited. Mr. Margolis’ patience was legendary.

Zack tensed and relaxed his muscles so that he wouldn’t be stiff if he had to quickly jump up and shoot. He counted slowly to three hundred and five when he heard a footstep and the rattling sound paintballs made in a half empty hopper. It came from directly in front of him.

Zack slowly moved his head up with his gun at the ready in front of him, safety off, finger on the trigger. Popping up in a move he’d practiced thousands of times Zack saw his father ten yards in front of him. Mr. Margolis was facing away from him.

Zack couldn’t believe his luck! In his spring across the field he must have eluded his father’s gaze and wound up nearly behind his father’s position.

Although Zack could have taken his father out he decided to have a little fun with him first. It would be payback for the trick with the shoe. Zack aimed his marker at his father’s back and slowly moved to his knees. With one hand he picked up a rock and lobbed it over his father’s head from behind.

It landed with a crash behind a rock wall and his father blasted at it wildly with his marker as he ran forward.

Zack waited a second then lobbed another stone in a ballistic arc over his dad’s head ten yards to the left of where the first one landed. Mr. Margolis let loose with a burst of fire where it landed. Zack almost exploded with laughter at his father’s confusion. Mr. Margolis opened his hopper and crouched down as quickly as he could and began to load it with paint from a pod attached to his belt.

“You need a lesson in preparedness dad.”

Zack lobbed another rock and it landed almost in front of his father next to a pile of logs. In a panic, Mr. Margolis jumped up and began firing in front of him but his hopper was still open and paintballs from it flew into the air and onto the ground all around him. The half filled pod flew out of his hand and those paintballs were added to the growing collection at his father’s feet. Mr. Margolis must have been very unnerved because he had unloaded all his paint and swore as he tried to pick up paint from the ground around him. Zack decided his father had had enough fun and snuck up on his father.

Zack cut loose a blood curdling scream at the same time he shot three rounds directly into his father’s butt.

“Feel my wrath dad.” Said Zack nonchalantly as his father turned and lifted his marker in surrender.

The referee blew the horn and signaled the end of the round.

“I don’t believe it! How in the world did you get behind me?” Mr. Margolis rubbed his butt with his hand.

Zack explained how he’d sprinted out just before the horn had sounded.
“Wrath hurts.” said his dad. “It was both brave and clever Zack. Good job!”

Canobee Paintball had a “pro shop” that featured new and used equipment, accessories, and several snack machines. Zack and his dad split a bag of chips and drank soda. Every few minutes Zack giggled at the picture in his mind of his dad jumping up and his paint spilling everywhere.

“Do you want to play one more round?” asked Zack.

“Sure bud, let’s go.”

They walked out to the larger range and saw the referee speaking with two girls Zack knew from school. One of them was James’s sister, Jennifer. The other was a new girl to the school that year and Zack couldn’t remember her name.

“Hey guys, these two ladies were hoping for a game of two on two. Their friends called and bailed on them, interested?” asked the ref.

Zack and his dad looked at each other and shrugged.

“Sure, it’s cool with me.” said Zack.

Introductions were made all around and Zack was paired with Jennifer while his father and Elizabeth, the new girl worked together.

“Have you played before?” asked Zack.

“I used to play with my brother all the time at Paint Zone. This is my first time here.” said Jennifer.

“Do you play a lot? You’ve got a lot of stains on your fatigues.” She asked, looking at him. Zack suddenly felt self-conscious.

“Yes, I used to play on a team…” Zack trailed off, remembering who he was talking to.

“Oh, my brother just got on a team. He’s so psyched. It’s like the best thing that’s happened to him since…in a while.” Jennifer said.

They moved to opposite ends of the field and crouched down. Zack wondered how good the girls were going to be at this and realized that he rarely played with or against a girl before.

“Hey, are there any all girl teams? I’d like to play on an all girls team.”

Zack didn’t have time to answer because the horn sounded and he was pinned behind a wooden pallet. He heard someone running towards them and popped out to shoot in the direction of the footsteps. Elizabeth shot him in the shoulder just in the same instance he shot her on the hand. They were both out of the match. They raised their markers in the air and walked behind the “penalty box” to watch their partners shoot it out.

Jennifer had Mr. Margolis pinned down behind an inflatable hide and was moving around to try and coax him out.

“Come on dad, take her out!”

“I think your dad’s afraid to shoot a girl.” said Elizabeth. “Does he ever play with your sister?”

“My sister doesn’t play. She doesn’t want to get bruised.” Zack laughed at the thought of Zoe crawling on the ground through the mud.

“Look! She’s going to get him.” Said Elizabeth, pointing to where Jennifer was about to nail his dad from behind.

Mr. Margolis rolled on the ground into another inflatable hide as Jennifer ran towards him firing as fast as her trigger finger could go. The match ended when he was shot in the chest.

After they regrouped they decided to switch partners. Zack and Elizabeth hid behind separate wooden barriers as the horn sounded. This time Zack covered Elizabeth as she sprinted to a wooden wall that Jennifer was pinned behind. Zack’s father fired at him but tripped over a root and was shot out of the match by Elizabeth with a quick shot to the butt.

Jennifer was pinned behind the wooden wall by Zack’s covering fire. Elizabeth walked backwards to get a better angle from which to pick off her friend but in a surprise move Jennifer ran out in front of the wooden wall and shot Elizabeth out before Zack could get decent aim.

“Drat!” screamed Elizabeth.

Zack saw Jennifer spin around to shoot him and he ducked behind a trashcan as a volley of rounds went “Ping! Ping! Ping” into it. He pushed the can over and used it as a rolling shield as he crawled forward towards her position. The shooting stopped and Zack popped out from behind the can and saw Jennifer standing up trying to un-jam her marker.

Zack pointed at her and said, “Surrender?”

Jennifer put a hand up in front of her and said, “No, don’t shoot me, I’m just a girl.”

In the split second of Zack’s indecision Jennifer managed to un-jam her marker and shoot him in the mask.

“He who hesitates is lost!” shouted Jennifer. “You shouldn’t be afraid to shoot me just because I’m a girl.”

Mr. Margolis came out to congratulate his teammate and Elizabeth had a few consoling words for Zack.

“Don’t feel bad. She’s really sneaky when she plays this game. She always beats me at poker.” Elizabeth pulled her blonde ponytail and rolled up the sleeves of her sweatshirt. There were several large bruises there from today’s match.

“You don’t mind bruises?” asked Mr. Margolis. “That’s refreshing.”

“It’s a good way to blow of steam.” Elizabeth said. “But it hurts the next day.”

Mr. Margolis looked at his watch. “I’ve got another twenty minutes before we really have to leave. You guys want another game before we have to call it quits?” He asked.

“We definitely do!” said Jennifer. “Can we play balloon tag?”

They all agreed on balloon tag. The goal was to shoot the opposing player’s balloon. If you shot the opposing player on their body you were out. Zack and his father tied helium balloons to the back of each other’s masks and the girls did the same. Their balloons were all different colors but Zack got pink, which bothered him. It bobbed about a foot over his head.

“Ok guys…and Lady’s, this game is every man for himself. Any shot to another player’s body automatically removes you from the game. You will start play at the four opposite corners of the field facing away from each other and begin play at the sound of the horn. If your balloon is shot out go to the penalty box.”

Zack heard the air horn sound and spun around, took aim and immediately shot out his father’s green balloon. Jennifer, Zack, and Elizabeth ran around and around each other taking shots whenever one of them slowed down. Moving from side to side seemed to be the best strategy to avoid having your balloon shot but Elizabeth thought moving up and down might work as well.

“Pop!” Went Elizabeth’s balloon

“Gottcha Liz!” Shouted Zack.

Zack and Jennifer were locked into a weird kind of ballet where each of them bobbed and rolled around trying to conserve their strength and ammo. Zack was getting tired and thought about hiding behind an inflatable barrier when Jennifer crossed her legs and almost tripped on her own foot. Her arm shot out and she went down on the grass. This time Zack didn’t hesitate and shot out Jennifer’s balloon with only one round from a distance of almost thirty yards. Even the referee was impressed.

After the match Mr. Margolis bought sodas for everyone.

“Thanks for playing with us. It was much better than playing with Trisha, Briana, and Heather. All they want to do is hold the markers and look cool.” said Jennifer. “They’re afraid to get shot.”

“Thanks dad, it was a great day.”

Zack noticed how close Liz was standing to him and saw Jennifer smirking at them between sips of soda. Zack edged closer towards his father.

“Maybe we can play again sometime?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sure, that would be cool.” Zack wanted to tell them about putting a new team together but his father looked at his watch and they had to leave.

“Thanks Dad. Today was great. How’s your butt?” Zack noticed his father shifting uncomfortably in his seat.”
“Not bad, not bad.” His father said as he squirmed again.

Zack’s dad pulled into the driveway and stopped the car. “Hey can you take that garment bag into the house?”

“Do you need your suit for this meeting?”

“It’s not my suit. It’s a dress for your sister’s formal dance. It has a high front, high back, and huge shoulder straps.” Mr. Margolis laughed.

Later that night, Zoe modeled her new dress for everyone, spinning around and singing a song that was popular the radio at that moment.

“I’ve got you in my heart baaaaby!” She crooned.

“You don’t mind the lack of spaghetti straps?” asked her mother.

“No way! This dress is so retro it’s cool. All the other girls will look like skanks compared to me. I'll be a princess! I’ve got you in my heart baaaaby! I even like the color! It makes my eyes stand out.”

Zack thought that for a Monday, it had been exceptionally good.

Invitations to Danger

After a winter of below normal temperatures and above normal snowfall, warm spring days were a welcome relief to the students at St. Patrick’s school. Heavy winter coats were exchanged for hooded sweatshirts. Both teachers and students caught themselves staring out the windows at the buds and flowers, which seemed to appear overnight. The change in season also brought other changes to Zack’s life. He no longer spent all of his recess and lunchtime with the Zombies. Instead he found himself playing chess under a shady tree with Gary Donager.

As a third grader Zack had been afraid of Gary when Gary “Danger”, as he had been known by his fifth grade classmates, when he demanded his lunch money for a period of about a month. Gary terrorized the younger kids with his bullying and threats. Mr. Margolis wisely advised his son to stand up to him and one day Zack said “No” to Gary’s demands. Gary folded. Unfortunately Gary had missed most of his fifth grade year and repeated sixth grade because he had gotten leukemia and spent a lot of time in the hospital. During his recuperation the former bully and extortionist had softened and spent hours playing chess and poker with the other patience in the cancer ward. Now he was captain of the school’s chess team and joked about being a bully.

After a chess tournament in the fall Zack overheard his father say to his mother, “Cancer was bad for his body but good for his soul.”

“Check.” said Gary. “You’re going to be in check mate in two moves.”

Sure enough, Zack lost again.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming.” Zack knocked over his king with his finger.
“Don’t feel bad. It took me longer to beat you than usual, and I’m really in the eighth grade you know. If I go to summer school I can graduate at the end of seventh grade. I’ll still be a year behind my original class but at least I won’t be graduating high school when I’m twenty.” laughed Gary.

“That stinks that you have to spend all summer in class.” Zack packed up the pieces of the game.

“I’m going to a chess camp for a week with a grand master from Russia though, that’s gonna be cool. I get to go to the rifle range whenever I want to because my dad’s a member of the gun club now too.”

“You shoot a rifle?” Zack asked in awe. His mother would never let him have a real rifle until he was eighteen although his dad had gone hunting several times.

“Yeah, my dad and I go a lot. Because of the leukemia I won’t ever be able to join the Marines but I can still shoot like one.”

“Why don’t you play paintball? It’s awesome.”

“I tried it once. I liked shooting from a distance but I’m still kind of weak from the cancer treatment and I can’t run that fast. That’s why I don’t take gym. I’m a good shot though. If I could be on a team where I didn’t have to run around… maybe I could be a marksman or something?”

“That’s an idea. I’m not sure it’s ever been done.”

“By the way what happened to your team?”

Zack explained to Gary how his team had to register without him but left out the animosity he felt towards the others.

“That’s a tough break. But hey, if you manage to get a team together and you need a sniper let me know.”

“Are you really a good shot?” asked Zack.

“Why don’t you come to the range after school and see me shoot?”

“I have to work at my mom’s shop. Can you come to my house Friday after school? I can let you use my marker and see how good you shoot with it.”

Although Zack’s body was in school his mind was elsewhere. For the rest of the day during music and spelling class he formulated a plan for practicing with his new “team.”

The fact that he hadn’t asked anyone yet or that he didn’t know if they would even want to be on a team mattered not one whit. Zack was a man with a mission and when he put his mind to something he was intensely single-minded about it.

That afternoon Zack worked on homework in the office of his mother’s store and helped with customers when things got busy. Just before closing Jennifer, Elizabeth, and Elizabeth’s mother, Mrs. Perry, came into the store.

“We’re picking up something for father’s day. My dad wants a kayak but we’re getting him one of those little inflatable fishing boats to start with.” said Elizabeth.

“My dad’s getting three bags of hickory smoked cashews and fudge from that fancy store by the mall.” Jennifer was running her hands over the hulls of the most expensive kayaks. “Maybe I should get him one of these?” She said, running her hand over the glossy black hull of the streamlined vessel.

“That’s about three-thousand dollars. It’s made of Kevlar and comes with its own G.P.S. system. If he wants a racing boat we’d have to special order one. We could give you a break on the price but there are less expensive ones available. We even have some used ones. Does you dad like to kayak?” asked Mrs. Margolis.

“Who knows? He’s so stressed all the time. All I’m sure of is that he needs a hobby. All he does is work and drive us around. Anyway I’ve got a lot saved up from babysitting. Hey Zack, are you putting a paintball team together? Can Liz and I be on it?"

“Uh…” He said.

 Zack had been wondering whether to ask Jennifer and Elizabeth if they would be interested in joining his team but her beating him to the punch left him speechless. He stood with his mouth open.

“Is it because we’re girls? I’m a good player. Liz is fast and smart and we’re not afraid of getting shot. Look at this.” She pulled up the sleeve of her school uniform to reveal three silver dollar sized bruises that were turning yellow and green.

“I’d love to have you on my team. I was just getting up the nerve to ask you.”

“I just want to see the look on Jimmy’s face when I kick his ass.”

“Jen!” hissed Elizabeth.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Elizabeth doesn’t like it when I swear. She thinks I’m going to hell.”

“I do not! I only invited you to youth group because you said…” She protested.

“So who else is on the team besides me and Liz? When do we practice? Do we have to wear uniforms? I can use one of Jim’s old markers but what’s Liz going to use?”

“Uh…” Elizabeth’s mother rescued Zack from having to answer questions.

“Elizabeth, Jennifer, come and look at these shirts. I want to get a couple for your father.”

“Duty calls…” Jennifer dragged Elizabeth away by her elbow leaving Zack to realize that he had three fifths of his team.

As Zack was helping Elizabeth load the inflatable raft and other gear in her mother’s car Gary arrived with his mother.

“Hey Zack, where’s the gun?” He asked.

“Hey Gary, you know Elizabeth and Jennifer?” Zack asked.

“Hi Gary, do you know we’re on Zack’s paintball team?” Elizabeth grinned from ear to ear which made her braces sparkle.

“That’s cool. He wants to see how well I shoot. Hi Jennifer, how are you?” Asked Gary

Jennifer crossed her arms and looked at the ground, kicking pebbles. “Hey.” She mumbled.

Mrs. Perry thanked Zack for his help and herded the girls into her car. Elizabeth gave Zack one last smile before she got into the car that made his stomach do a flip.

Gary and Zack walked behind the store to a place where he had several targets set up.

“I can hit a target from much further away than this.” Gary walked another thirty yards away from the plastic soda bottles Zack had set up on cardboard boxes as targets.

“Ok, let’s get our masks on.” said Zack.

“Why? We’re not being shot at and it’s not like I’m going to shoot you.” Gary said.

“The rules are that we always wear masks whenever we shoot, no matter what the circumstances. If you can’t play by that rule I can’t play with you.” Zack was surprised at what came out of his mouth but he knew that if he were going to lead a team they would have to play by his rules. “It’s basic paintball gun safety.” He said as an afterthought.

“Oh, I understand.” Gary pulled his mask on.

Gary lay on the ground in a prone position and after taking a few practice shots was able to knock down seven bottles in a row with only one shot each.

“Wow, you’re a great shot!” Zack was always strategizing about where Gary could be placed on the field, and then another thought came to him.

“Can you hit a moving target?”

“Do you have a moving target?”

“Yeah, shoot at me!” Zack put his mask on and headed down to the target area.

Zack raced across the target area, crouching behind the boxes and doing his best not to get shot. Gary managed to hit Zack twenty seven times. Ten of those hits were when Zack tried peeping up from behind a box.

“You are awesome! How did you learn to shoot like that?”

“I go a lot with my dad. I’m not used to shooting moving targets though. You want me on your team? I could use the money to buy a new computer, or help my parent’s with the medical bills. I used to joke around with my parent’s that if I died they’d get a refund from the hospital. They never laughed at that joke. Jennifer did though.” Gary took a big sip of his soda.

“You’re definitely on the team. I’ll let you know when practice is.”

“The only time I can’t is on Tuesday afternoons.”

Zack and Gary walked back to the parking lot where their mother’s were talking.

“How’d it go?” asked Mrs. Donager.

“I’m on the team!” Gary beamed.

“Fantastic! I’ve been trying to get him to do more group activities but regular sports are out. Oh, look at the time. I’ve got to pick up my husband at work. Nice seeing you again Anita. “

Zack spend the last hour of the afternoon doing his homework and studying for a quiz. At five o’clock Mrs. Margolis closed the store and they drove home.

“Well Zack it looks like your team is coming together nicely.” said his mom.

“Yeah, I’ve hardly had to do anything. They all came to me.” Zack said with awe.

“You do your part and God will do his part, right?”

“I guess so. I don’t understand how God works. Why doesn’t he answer all our prayers?”

“Don’t forget that ‘No’ and ‘Wait’ are answers too. Dad and I say that to you and your sister a lot. It doesn’t mean we don’t love you or didn’t hear your question.” said his mom.

“I don’t like waiting and I don’t like it when you say ‘No’ to something I want.”

“I don’t either, but God can see over horizons we can’t see past.”

“You mean like God has a G.P.S. for everyone in the world?”

“That’s an interesting way of looking at it. You should write it down and show it to your dad. He’d like that.”

“I still need one more player for the team. Terry Jones would be awesome. He’s so cool though, he’d never want to be on a team with us.”

“Zack, wake up! God just sent you three great players! Where’s your faith? He’s gotten you four fifths of the way there, can you trust him for the last fifth? Good Lord you’re worse than the Israelites when Moses went away to get the rule book.”

 “Sorry mom, you’re right. If this team comes together it will be a miracle.”

“You do your part and God will do his part.”

“Mom, can we get take out Chinese food for dinner?”

“Now that’s asking for a miracle.”

School Rules

All children learn that at school there are many rules. Some are written down in the student handbook, which is misnamed because only parents ever read it. Rules like no chewing gum, raise your hand if you want to speak, don’t be late, and no running in the halls, are outlined along with their consequences. Other rules hang in the air like a haze and have been passed on from generation to generation of children. Don’t use the third floor water fountain because someone puked in it last year. Never use the back stairwell after lunch, because the creepy janitor smokes smelly, hand rolled cigarettes while he’s cleaning the boy’s bathroom. If you volunteer an answer for Sister Mary make sure it’s right or else you’ll spend recess memorizing Irish poetry.

One rule that Zack had learned during his first week as a first grader at St. Patrick’s was that no one ever sat at the eighth grader’s tables unless they invited you. Although no teacher ever enforced this rule the eighth graders, God-like in their upper class status, could wither the bravest seventh-grader with only a glance. The eight-grader’s tables were set up on a small platform at the end of the cafeteria where they had an unimpeded view of the city from their fourth floor aerie. Eight graders were granted their own  microwave ovens, padded chairs with armrests, and a water cooler for their exclusive use. Everyone else had to make do with brown bag lunches, hard chairs with no armrests, and a communal water fountain.

On occasion a seventh grader was allowed access to this most sacred of spaces, but for the most part no one, not even the teachers, approached it.

“If you even try to talk to me during lunch I’ll make your life miserable. Stay on the floor with the babies.” Zoe warned him on the first day of school that year.

“What if I need to talk to you about something?”

“You’ll have to wait until after school.”

“What if it’s important?”

“Nothing is as important as me making the right friends this year. I’m going to high school next year and image is everything. If I go in acting like a dorky freshman I’ll never get asked to the prom.”

“Freshmen don’t have a prom!”

“D’uh! I’m shooting for a senior to ask me.”

Zack had planned on having a practice with the team tomorrow and he desperately wanted Terry Jones on the team. He thought lunch would be the perfect opportunity to ask him but every time he wandered near his table Zoe glared at him.
“Maybe I should just see if I can catch him before he leaves school.” said Zack.

Elizabeth and Jennifer were both bugging him to get Terry on their team but neither felt comfortable asking him.

“He’s huge! We can all hide behind him.” said Liz.

“Have you seen him run? He could probably dodge the rounds as they came at him.”

Zack’s opportunity came when Terry was walking towards the trashcan with a tray of cups and wrappers from his lunch, Zoe was right behind him.

“Hi Terry, I don’t know if you remember me but…”

“Oh Hi Zack, you were just leaving right?” Zoe pushed between them and glared at Zack with eyes so hostile they could have set his head on fire.

“Zoe, are you always so rude to your brother? Hey little man what’s up?” asked Terry as he threw away his trash into the can.

“I was wondering if you’d be interested playing on my paintball…”

“Of course he wouldn’t! He’s a basketball star and he doesn’t need to play in some stupid tournament.” said Zoe.

“Not unless there’s some money in it. I’m saving up for a car.” Terry laughed.

“Well there you go. I think you’ve wasted enough of our…” Zoe began pulling Terry away from him.

“The prize is five thousand dollars, split five ways that’s a thousand dollars each.” said Zack.

“Hey now! That’s what I’m talking about. Where do I sign up?”

Zoe’s nostrils flared out as if she was going to breathe fire and her glare alone could have melted a glacier but Zack didn’t care.

He had a team again.

Ingredients

The next afternoon Zack, Gary, Elizabeth, Terry, and Jennifer all met at the cheap indoor paintball range housed in an old brick mill building.

“Why the heck are we here. It’s a perfect day! The competition’s at Canobee, not here. Shouldn’t we practice on the field the tournament’s going to be on?” Asked Jennifer.

Zack was ready for her questions. “First of all, It is a perfect day and everyone and their brother will be there. All the fields will be crowded and we’d have a hard time finding a place for us to practice our drills without being distracted or interrupted. At least here we can use one room for as long as we like. Secondly, we only have a few weeks and because this is the only time we can all practice together I wanted to make sure we could go as long as possible. If we went to Canobee we’d have to quit by sundown. Here we get at least three extra hours in. Finally, I don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing or what moves we have planned. Is that ok with everyone?”

Nods of agreement followed Zack’s speech. They suited up and moved into the room with a tired, grumpy, tattooed referee in tow.

“Ok, the first move I want to work on is…”

“I’m not playing until we pray.” said Liz.

This caught them all up short. Jennifer rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Um, what did you say?” asked Zack.

“Oh please don’t get all Jesusy on us Lizzy.” Jennifer whined.

“I don’t remember praying being part of the bargain. Don’t we pray enough at school?” said Gary.

“Hey it can’t hurt! We prayed before every game this season and we won.” Terry said.

“Why don’t you say a prayer Liz, but the clock is ticking, don’t pray like my dad does.” said Zack.

“I love the way your dad prays…oh all right.” Liz bowed her head and said, “Dear heavenly father, I just pray Lord, that you’d be glorified, Lord, in our practice, Lord, and Lord, keep us all safe, Lord, and may Jesus be lifted up on high by our playing, Lord and may you get all the Glory, in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

“Amen, now let’s kick some ass!” said Jennifer.

“It’s just us Jen we’re not going to kick each other’s asses, are we?” Gary said.

“Actually we’re going to have a combination of three on two later. So technically we will kick each other’s asses.” Zack said.

“Could you all please not say ‘Ass’?”

“But everyone has one Liz, even the Pope!” Jennifer said with a smirk.

“Ok people, let’s go.”

Zack fell to the ground and showed them how to crawl and carry their markers so they could shoot from a prone position.

“Ok, now I’m going to go to the other end of the room and I want you to crawl from left to right and try and hit me as I run between the inflatable barriers. Gary, I want you to set up on the far side of the field and see if you can pop me.”

Zack darted from between the hides. At first no one hit him. Rounds and rounds of paintballs exploded all around him. Then, slowly but surely, they found their mark.

“No slowing down as you crawl along the ground!” He shouted at them.

After fifteen minutes he could no long cross between the barriers without being hit at least three times.

“Ok, stand down!” He noticed that the referee was signaling for a break so they all went out to reload and get a drink.

“Oh my gosh, look at you! You’ve gotten hit like ten times in the head!” said Elizabeth.

“That was me. I finally got a bead on him in the last few minutes. It took me a while to figure out the range on this gun.” said Gary. “I think I can do it in less time next time we play.”

“It was awesome man. At first I couldn’t get my gun up fast enough, but then I found this little move with my elbow and as soon as I saw you I could hit you.” Terry took a deep gulp from his St. Patrick’s sports bottle.

“I got you in the chest twice and once in the leg, I think.” Liz looked over Zack’s camouflage uniform for her color of paint. “Yes! I got you here, here and here.”

“My elbows are killing me. I should have stolen some of James’s knee and elbow pads.” said Jennifer.

“I’ll make a list of things we need to get. How are we doing on paint?” He asked.

Everyone had plenty of ammo.

“Ok, this time I want to try a move I learned at a camp last summer.”

Zack lead the back on the field and they rehearsed a move where they took turns covering the person behind them who moved up to the front. In this way the entire team could move forward with each member being covered by the other four. Gary was the weak link in this exercise because he was slower moving up.

“Let’s adjust it so that Gary’s always in the back giving covering fire. He’s great at that, and he can just move forward as the line moves up.” said Terry.

“Great idea.” Zack agreed.

They performed the maneuver again and the line flowed forward like a snake. Zack had them do it again and asked one of the referees to fire at them as they surged forward. Despite the fact that the referee was firing blindly over the barrier, which would have been illegal in a real match, they managed to perform the move flawlessly. Gary hit the referee six times.

“Ok, you’ve had your fun. Are you training to be Navy Seals? I wouldn’t want to play against you guys.” said the referee. “Come on, I’ve got to kick you out for an hour while a birthday party plays through.”

No one complained because everyone, except Gary, had been hit multiple times. In the lounge area they ate the snacks that Elizabeth and Zack’s mothers had packed.

“How many ingredients are actually in Doritos? Is there any actual corn left in these things?” Zack asked.

“I know. None of these colors are found in nature.” Gary said as he held one up to the light.

“Who cares? They taste great. I’m wicked thirsty though. What did your mom pack for drinks?” Jennifer dug through a bag and pulled out a box of Soy milk. “Oh Liz, this is yours. You’d better pray before you drink it.”

“Very funny.” She said snatching it from her friend. “I’m lactose intolerant.” She explained to the others.

“Tell them about the goat.” said Jennifer.

“You have a goat?” Asked Terry?

“Yea, I got it for my birthday a few years ago. It’s for the milk really. I get sick of soy milk and I can tolerate goat milk for some reason.”

“So you can’t have ice cream?” asked Gary.

“No, only goat milk cheese products for me.” She said.

“Do you live on a farm?” asked Zack.

“No, it’s a house with a big back yard. We have chickens and rabbits too. The eggs are always fresh.”

“Rabbits lay eggs?” said Zack.

“Liz is lucky. We always get take out or whatever our dad buys for frozen food.” said Jennifer, stuffing an entire ring ding into her mouth.

“My mama can cook the best chicken fried steak in the world. Her cornbread and pecan pie is to die for. I used to eat a whole pan by myself when I was in sixth grade.” said Terry.

They sat on the overstuffed chairs, cleaned and reloaded their markers until the birthday party was over.

“Time for more fun guys.” said Zack, who was used to leading a team but not used to a team that obeyed him. He found it very gratifying to not be fighting everyone every time he gave an instruction.

“Ok, like I said we’re going to play as many sets of three on two as we can. Once you’re hit, you’re out. We’ll have a constant rotation of us four and Gary will switch after every three rounds of play so we don’t become too comfortable.”

Terry, Jennifer, and Gary clobbered Elizabeth and Zack. It took them only two minutes to finish them off. This happened three times in a row.

“Don’t get discouraged. It will take us time to find our rhythm.” He said to Liz.

They switched sides and Gary, Liz, and Jennifer played against Zack and Terry. This time Zack got off a well aimed shot and took out Gary. Then Elizabeth hit Terry in the middle of the forehead. As Jennifer and Elizabeth blasted away at Zack he ducked, rolled, and crawled until the girls got him in a crossfire move and he surrendered.

Switching sides again, Zack, Gary, and Jennifer tried to take out Liz and Terry. Liz and Terry had their own plans. Zack waited ten anxious minutes, peeping out of his hiding place never seeing Liz or Terry peep out, even once.

“Where are they?” whispered Jennifer.

“Is this fair?” asked Gary.

Instead of playing aggressively the pair crouched behind one of the barriers, back to back, and waited for the enemy to come towards them. Zack motioned for Jennifer to match his movements on the opposite side of the room as they moved in a crouch position toward the hidden pair. Because Liz and Terry were hidden from Gary’s sniping, he was of no use to them. Zack gave a hand signal to Jennifer and shouted, “Now!”

Zack went high and Liz went low. They fired continuously as they rounded the edge of the barrier. It was over in seconds, Zack shot out Terry but Elizabeth shot Zack then spun around on and nailed Jennifer on the knee.

“Ha! Gotcha! Whooo Hoooo!” Elizabeth actually skipped around the room until she crashed into a pole and fell on her butt. She laughed even harder and broke up the rest of them.

“Great job everyone. I think we should play one more round then take a break for dinner. I saw another few people come in, maybe we can get a team to play against us?”

“Hey, would you guys mind all coming at me at once, four against one? I think I need some practice fighting against overwhelming odds. I mean, what if I’m the only one left and you all are shot out?” asked Gary.

“He’s got a point. Let’s see how good he is four against one.” Terry said.

They took up positions and Terry hastily sketched out a plan. “I’ll run out and draw his fire and the four of you sink him. I can take one for the team, Boo Ya!” He shouted.

In theory this plan was good, in theory.

Terry ran out into the middle of the room firing where he thought Gary was hiding. Gary stuck his head out and yelled, “Here I am!” and Liz, Zack, and Jennifer let out a barrage of fire in his direction. Unfortunately, Terry was standing between them and took several rounds to the back.

“Darn it! Hey watch that friendly fire!” He said as he walked to the safe area.

“Ok, that wasn’t such a good idea. He can’t shoot all of us at once. Let’s all run out firing at the same time. One of us is bound to hit him.”

Upon Zack’s signal they came our firing. Jennifer was taken out with a shot to the chest. Liz fired wildly at Gary’s position but missed and was shot out with a shot to the facemask. Zack ran forward and had Gary dead in his sights when his marker made a familiar but unwelcome farting sound.

“Pffffft” Went his gun. It was out of carbon dioxide propellant.

Gary aimed his marker and asked, “Surrender?”

“Never surrender, never give up!” Zack yelled as he picked up a stray, intact paintball and threw it in his general direction.

“You asked for it pal.” Gary shot him on the padded part of his shoulder where it wouldn’t hurt.

“Ollie, Ollie in come free!” Elizabeth shouted and they all walked out of the room.

“Ouch, I’m really sore.” Jennifer pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt up to reveal several large welts.

“Me too, I’ve never been hit so many times.” Elizabeth crashed on the large couch and wiped blue paint off her mask’s faceplate.

“We should stretch out before we play, that would help.” said Terry.

“It doesn’t help with bruising.” said Jennifer.

Gary and Elizabeth’s mothers arrived with three pizzas, soda, and a surprise dessert.

“Chocolate chip, almond, walnut cookies!” Gary beamed.

“They were the only thing he wanted when he was going for his first round of chemo.” said Mrs. Donager.

“We should pray before we eat.” said Mrs. Parsons.

Zack felt a little discomfort but was relieved and surprised when Terry piped up and said, “We thank thee O Lord for thy bounty through Christ our Lord Amen.”

Zack sat on the sofa and wolfed down two slices of pizza then sat leaned back into the cushion and took stock of his body. His legs were a little sore and his left index finger was red and swollen from where he’d been hit with a round. He knew the bruises would show up on his legs but that was just part of the game. Elizabeth and Jennifer were showing Mrs. Parson their bruises, they both yawned and stretched. Zack wondered how tired they were.

“Hey, are you a team? Do you want to play a game?” A teenager wearing a red team uniform asked him and he looked them over.

“Sure, we have five guys. Are you playing in the tournament at Canobee?” asked Zack.

“Yea, we’ve been playing together since freshman year. We’re in the big room in the front. Come when you’re ready to play. My name’s Steve.”

“I’m Zack, this is Jen, Gary, Liz, and Terry.” Zack said as he introduced his team.

“Great, we get to play against another team. I’ve got to use the men’s room then we can beat them.” Terry put an entire cookie in his mouth and walked away.

“I’m ok mom, don’t worry so much. It’s not like I’m running all over the field.” Gary said with a touch of aggravation in his voice.

“Ok, Ok, just asking.” said Mrs. Donager holding up her open palms. “I don’t want you getting overly tired and end up in the emergency room again.”

“I’m fine mom. If I get too tired I’ll tell you. I don’t want to end up in the emergency room either you know. I need some more Co two. Zack, give me your marker and I’ll fill yours too.” Zack wondered if Mrs. Donager were simply being a doting mother or if Gary was sicker than he let on.

Jennifer let out a loud belch and laughed. “Oh, excuse me! I’m so ladylike, aren’t I?”

“Hey mom, is the gas in our guns the same as the stuff in the soda?” asked Elizabeth.

“Yes, it’s all carbon dioxide honey. It’s the same gas you get rid of every time you exhale.”

“Hey Zack, how do we know if we need to gas up?” asked Jennifer.

“It depends on how many rounds you shoot. I can go for fifteen hundred with this tank. Yours are smaller so you should load up now, before we play.”

“Thanks for the pizza.” said Zack.

“Yes, it was great Mrs. Parsons, Mrs. Donager.” Jennifer said as she took one last bite of pizza.

“No, problem kids, how much longer do you think you’ll play?” asked Mrs. Parsons.

“About an hour, I think we’re all getting tired.” said Zack.

Gary returned with their markers and they made their way to the large room in the front. Steve’s team, “UXB”, was coming off the field.

“Ok, we’re ready.” said Zack.

They put their masks on and went into the big room taking up a position at the end of the room. Zack’s heart was pounding. He called his team together and thought about what to say. “Ok, these guys have been playing together for a while and we’ve only been together for five hours. They’re probably going to win but…”

“Hey man, I don’t want to hear talk like that. My coach always told me that if you go in with anything less than a winning attitude, you’ve lost already. I don’t want to lose. We are going in there and we are going to kick some serious UFO butt, any questions?” said Terry.

Zack was humbled and a little angry, but Terry was right.

“You’re right Terry. Let’s win!”

“Let’s win!” The rest of them repeated.

They won one and lost three games. The UXB team was surprised to be beaten by a younger team that had not played together before. Before they left for the night Zack had them each write down three things they learned in the game and three things they needed to improve on.

“I need to learn to not get shot in the first three seconds of the game.” Said Elizabeth

“I need to learn to take off my safety when the game starts.” said Jennifer.

“My shots could use some improvement. I missed three easy kills because I was rushing.” Gary said.

“I did ok. I got way ahead of you a bunch of times, that left me open and you uncovered. Coach says we should always play as a team and I wasn’t always doing that.” Terry, thought Zack, was honest to a fault.

“And I should have taken time between games to come up with a better strategy. I’ll have some plays I used to use with the Zombies for us to try next time. Speaking of which, when can we practice next?”

Between Gary and Zack’s chess team, piano lessons for Elizabeth, Terry’s after school job at the supermarket, and Jennifer’s babysitting jobs, there was no time they could all practice together.

“So we’re only going to have one, maybe two more practices before the tournament. We’d better make it a good one. We’ll play again next Saturday…”

“Wait, I can’t do it Saturday! Mom we have that thing at church. We’re supposed to volunteer once a month at the ‘King’s Kitchen’ and it’s our week to help make meals.” said Elizabeth.

“It’s only in the morning honey. We’ll be done by noon.” said Mrs. Parsons.

“That sounds cool. Could I help too or do you have to belong to your church? Lots of people made meals for us when mom was sick.” Jennifer said.

“Of course we’d love to have you help! We can pick you up in the morning and I’ll bring both of you to practice, if it’s ok with your father.”

When he arrived home, Zack was so tired that all he wanted to do was take off his suit and crawl into bed.

“Mom, do we have to go to church tomorrow? Can’t we just sleep in?”

Both of his parents looked at him with blank expressions.

“Never mind.” He said, rolling his eyes

“Don’t forget your science project honey. You have to take a measurement before you go to sleep. Zoe took one for you at noon.” His dad said.

“She did?” Zack wondered why his sister was being so altruistic.

“Greater love hath no sister, than that she should take a potato voltage reading for her brother.” said his father in a voice that sounded like a hell and brimstone preacher.

Zack’s science project was to string together potatoes in a circle with copper wire and a voltage meter to determine how much electrical energy there was in a five pound bag of spuds. Zack took a reading on the voltage meter and recorded it in his science journal. He noticed that in the previous reading Zoe had written the numbers down in pink ink and dotted her “I” with little hearts and flowers.

“Girls.” He said to himself.

Sabbath

Zack awoke twelve minutes before his alarm was set to go off. The red numbers seemed to mock him.

Should I try and sleep for ten minutes or get up and put the dogs out?

His bed was warm and cozy. The two Labrador Retrievers were pacing in the front hallway, waiting to go out.

Maybe Zoe will get them?

He heard the whines of Moxie, the black lab, in hall and decided to exercise his unselfish muscles. Bounding out of bed he threw on his warm, red robe and ran down the stairs as quietly as possible so as not to awaken his parents. They always stayed up late on Saturday night to pray for church the next day, which Zack thought was strange but never said so.

He let the dogs out and went into the basement to put his paintball clothes in the utility sink full of warm water. Washing his paint-smeared clothes in the machine was a no-no. Picking off as much detritus from his suit as he could Zack then swished it around the sink creating rainbow swirls of colors that eventually merged into black.

“Cool.”

Instead of the kids, “Youth” as their pastor called them, going to Sunday school after the singing and announcements, all the children were called to the front of the sanctuary where a boy of Zack’s age stood with one of their Sunday school teachers.

“Good morning children. Today we have a special visitor from Nicaragua. Can you say ‘Nicaragua’?”

Some of the younger children couldn’t wrap their tongues around the word and there were chuckles from the adults.

“Nathan is here for a few weeks to receive medical treatment that he couldn’t get in his own country. The money you and your parents give every week when the offering bag comes around allowed him to fly here and have a surgery that will help him grow up to be big and strong. Nathan’s going to tell us some things about life in his country and about how our giving has helped him and the other kids in his town. Nathan doesn’t speak English so Mr. McGee will interpret what he says, but the words will all be his. You have to be very quiet and pay attention, ok?” Pastor Dan nodded to Mr. McGee who interpreted a statement that Nathan had written down and was reading from.

Hello, my name is Nathan Matos. I am twelve years old and I live in the town of Motos with my sister in the Lord’s Chapel orphanage. We have lived there for five years and go to the school run by Papa Steve and his wife. Every day we get food because of the money you send to us. Thank you for everything. Without your help my sister and I would have been living on the streets and bad people would have hurt us. Thank you for bringing me here to have my foot fixed. I hurt it and there are no hospitals that would take us in so I haven’t been able to walk well for a long time. My mother got very sick and died. Because there was no hospital to help her and because we had no money for medicine she was in a lot of pain before she died…”

Whatever composure Nathan had when he began his speech was leaving him and he choked out the last few words before the tears rolled down his cheeks. Mr. McGee put an arm on his shoulder. After an uncomfortable minute, he resumed.

“She died and we were alone. Now I understand that your church is sending us money to build a hospital so that we can supply medicine to our orphanage and maybe our town. If we had the hospital she would not have died. Thank you, and thank God, for your love and gifts.”

Pastor Dan walked next to Nathan and whispered a few words in Spanish to him, which made Nathan smile.

“Indeed children, Nathan does thank you and hopes that you, and your parents, will continue to show the love of God to the ‘least of these’. And remember, what Nathan calls a hospital, and we call a ‘clinic’, is really just a concrete building with an aluminum roof to keep the rain out. We’ll stock it with supplies that any ordinary first-aid kit would have and arrange for a doctor from the Capitol city to visit once a month and give emergency care when needed. Do you know what Nathan’s mother died of? She died of pneumonia that started out as a cough, which started as a cold. A simple prescription for an anti-biotic would have cured her in a few days, but they didn’t even have aspirin because they couldn’t afford it. It only would have cost six dollars to save Mrs. Matos.  I hope that you will all consider giving sacrificially to our sister church in Nicaragua so that the name of Christ may be lifted in praise there too.”

Later that day Zack rinsed out his paintball uniform and hung it up to dry.

“Dad, how much did my paintball suit cost?”

“About seventy dollars, you saved and paid for it, you should know. Why do you ask?”

Zack did a mental calculation in his head.

“So my paintball uniform could have bought enough medicine to save that woman’s life um…eleven times?”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“Why don’t they have enough to buy medicine? Don’t they have insurance?”

“No, most people in the world have very few possessions pal. Compared to any other country we’re filthy rich. We have more food than we could ever eat, clean water, more possessions than most people in the world could ever imagine. We have a duty to give as much as we can. Are you feeling guilty because of how much we have?”

“A little, it just seems so unfair. That kid’s mother died for like, no reason!”

“It is unfair. Listen, God wants us to be generous with what we have. Do you think you’re being generous?”

Zack thought about the money he earned at his mother’s shop and how much his parents told him he needed to give.

“I guess I could give more. I mean, I spend at least five dollars a week on the soda machine at school. I could just bring soda from home and give that money to the orphanage.” Zack said.

“Tell you what. If you give up your five dollars in soda money to the orphanage I’ll stop getting a double mocha latte with whipped cream and caramel three times a week. That will make it about fifteen more dollars a week we give to the church specifically for the orphanage and school, deal?”

“Deal.”

Give and Take

“Jen was pretty bruised on Sunday. How’d she play?” James asked.

“Keep stirring, it’s getting thicker.” Zack watched their mixture slowly turn from gray to white.

“She asked if she could borrow my old pod belt, an extra barrel, and a padded shirt that’s too small for me. Is she a good shot? Are you practicing tomorrow?” James looked at their mixture and stopped stirring.

“We’re almost done. Look it’s almost clear now. Let’s pour it in the mold before it gets too thick.” Zack held out the tray with the mold inside of it.

James poured the gooey liquid into the plaster mold and they watched it settle.

“It looks good. No air bubbles. Mr. Humphries, can you come and check ours?” James smiled nervously as their science teacher examined their polymer dinosaur cast. Mr. Humphries grinned as he examined their lab project.

“Hmmmm…perfectly clear mixture, no air bubbles, it’s hardening quickly now, the plaster hasn’t cracked. Good job to both of you. Miss Kavanaugh should get chicken pox more often. I’m joking of course, but you two boys make a good team. Don’t forget to record your times and observations in your lab book.”

Zack and James cleaned up quickly and sat down to complete the questions in their lab book.

“Do you have plastic for number six?” asked Zack.

“Yeah, or ‘polymer’ is ok too. Does fossil have one s or two?”

“Two.”

Zack closed his lab book and drew pictures of imaginary creatures on the back cover.

“Your sister is a good player. She shoots well and isn’t afraid of taking a risk.” Zack said, without interrupting his drawing.

“Our practices are a little disorganized. It’s fun to play, but I thought it would be different.” whispered James. Mike was still involved in his lab two rows back.

“You’ll do fine. I have my old Zombie shirt in my locker. Do you want it? My mom washed it and I don’t need it.”

“Really? That would be great. Do you want anything for it?

Zack was about to say no but he thought for a moment and said, “Jennifer could use that pod belt, extra barrel, and padded shirt she asked you for.”

“I’ll give her that stuff. At least with the shirt I won’t have to listen to her complain about how sore she is.”

Zack gave James the shirt at the end of the day. He felt more than a little sad parting with it. Even though he had his own new team now he missed being part of what he once had.

“Hey, does your new team have a name? Jen said she wants to name it the ‘She Devils’, ‘Pink Pain’, or the ‘Daughters of Disaster’. Is that true?”

Zack cringed. “No, we don’t have a name yet and it certainly isn’t going to be one of those!”

James smirked, rolled his eyes, and said, “Yeah, girls.”

Snapping, Wheezing, and Freezing

Saturday brought a canopy of gray clouds which caused both a drop in temperatures and a steady drizzle of misery over the field where they were practicing. Last year’s dead grass wilted under the weight of the water. Zack shivered a little.

“It’s only been an hour and I’m already soaked through.” said Elizabeth. “What do we do if it pours out next week?”

“We get wet. You should wear a cheap raincoat if you have one.” said Zack.

“It’s much harder out here than in the warm, dry room we were in last week.” Jennifer wiped her facemask with her arm for the hundredth time that morning.

“One more time guys, then we can play two against three.” Zack led them up an incline in a crouch, on their bellies, and at a dead run while firing at balloons he’d set up as targets.

Terry, who Zack thought would be best at this exercise, tripped over his own feet several times.

“I’m used to running on a nice flat, dry surface. This is insane, what if I twist my ankle, I can’t be losing my scholarship because I got hurt doing this.”

“We just have to be careful. Training accidents happen but you have to pray hard and hope for the best.” Zack led them up the incline.

“Did you say ‘pray hard’ or ‘play hard’?” asked Liz.

“Play hard…I think.”

“We should pray. Can we stop at the top and pray?” She asked.

Although Zack’s parents were always stopping to pray about every little thing he thought the suggestion sounded strange coming from someone his own age. He also felt his authority being usurped.

“No, we don’t have time. You can pray to yourself but we need to train and train hard.” It felt good to assert him self but a lingering doubt called to him from the back of his mind.

At the top of the hill Elizabeth started taking off her facemask.

“Hey, you can’t do that we’ll get kicked out!” Zack pulled her hands away from her mask before she could expose her face. “What’s wrong?”

“I…need…my…inhaler.” She wheezed.

“You have asthma?” Terry asked.

Jennifer found Elizabeth’s inhaler in a pocket in her combat vest. “Sit down Liz!”

Zack motioned to the referee to come over to them. “Liz, take your mask off and use your inhaler.” He said anxiously. Liz’s wheezing was much louder with her mask off and it sounded like she was dying. After two long pulls from the inhaler she breathed almost normally.

The referee came over and Zack explained the situation.

“Get her off the field for now. Put these on.” He handed her a pair of wrap around goggles that would protect her eyes from any stray round. “Are you feeling ok now?”

Liz took another pull from her inhaler and nodded.

“Better.” She said and put on the goggles.

They walked off the field and Elizabeth sat down on the wet grass and took one more pull off of her inhaler. “I’m ok but I think I should call my mom. She wants to know whenever I have an attack.” She pulled a cell phone from her vest and informed her mother of what happened. After a short conversation she ended the call and said, “Well, my mom told me that I can play after I rest for an hour. But if I have another attack or get short of breath I have to call her and come home. Sorry.”

“This is going to wreck our schedule.” said Zack testily.

“It’s not like it’s my fault!” said Elizabeth.

“She’s sick for Chri…crying out loud!” said Jennifer.

“Ok, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to lose one minute.” said Zack as he walked away a little.

“Why don’t we wait until this afternoon? I mean, we’re here all day anyway. It’s supposed to get sunny out later and we can give Liz a rest and it will be less slippery when the sun comes out.” Terry unscrewed his carbon dioxide canister and sat down with Liz and Jen.

“I can only stay until two. My parents are going to visit my aunt and I have to go with them.” Gary said sheepishly.

“This is the last time we have to practice. Come on guys, let’s pull together and get as much in as we can. Liz you can rest until you feel ready to play, but don’t wait too long.”

Zack put his mask back on and walked back onto the field. The others followed him.

“Ok, since we can’t do three against two we can at least do two against two. Let’s keep rotating partners.”

During the first round Jennifer and Zack lost when Gary picked them both off. Terry was mad that he didn’t get a chance to take one of them out and told Gary to let him have a shot at them.

“I’m just doing my job. That’s why you picked me right?” said Gary.

“I didn’t pick you.” retorted Terry.

Gary stalked away mad, and took up his position behind a rock but didn’t bother aiming his marker. “Suit yourself.”

Jennifer slipped on wet grass as she ran forward and Terry picked her off as she lay on the ground.

“Hey, you’re supposed to give me a chance to surrender right?” She yelled.

Zack and Terry stalked each other from opposite sides of the field, neither getting in position for a killing shot. A paintball exploded against a boulder next to Terry’s hand. It came from behind him.

“Gary! Watch your fire!” Terry shouted over his shoulder.

“Sorry! I thought that since I couldn’t shoot Zack I should shoot you.” He yelled.

“Gary you can’t shoot your own teammates!” Zack yelled at him.

Terry crawled on his belly towards Zack then waited until he saw him turn looking in the other direction. He got up on his knees then bolted forward for a kill shot. Unfortunately he slipped on a patch of gravelly mud and went down hard on his arm. Terry’s hopper detached from his marker and its supply of paintballs spilled out over the grass. Zack turned and shot Terry out.

“Gotcha!” He said, exuberantly

A round from Gary’s marker hit Zack squarely in the center of his mask.

“Hey! I thought I told you that he was mine?” Terry yelled to Gary.

“You won Terry. Isn’t that enough?” asked Zack.

“I was the first shot out, again!” Jennifer Complained.

Gary approached them and said, “Don’t thank me for saving your butt.”

“I don’t need anyone to save my butt.” Terry put his hopper back on his marker and began filling it with dropped paintballs.

“You shouldn’t do that. They might jam your gun.” said Zack.

Terry ignored what he said. Jennifer and Gary stooped to help him. Zack felt frustrated and humiliated, a feeling he often had, along with the good ones, when he led the Zombies.

They walked off the field together. Terry said, “Your shot was a good one Gary. I didn’t mean anything by what I said. Here I am, a team player, not playing like one.”

“S’Ok.” Gary said, and in typical male fashion their quarrel was forgotten.

They were all wet, tired and aggravated. Zack thought about calling the practice over but was taught to never end a practice on a sour note.

“How do you feel Liz?” asked Zack.

“Better, almost normal, I think I can play as long as I don’t run up that hill again.” She smiled at Zack and offered him a soda.

“Thanks. Hey Terry you’re bleeding a little.” Zack pointed to a scrape on his wrist.

“Oooh! I have first aid training let me handle this.” Jennifer jumped up and pulled a miniature first aid kit out of her backpack. She cleaned and dressed Terry’s small wound in less than three minutes. “I did a lot of this when mom was sick.” She explained.

“Thanks.” Terry flexed his wrist experimentally. “You should be a nurse.”

“I want to be a doctor.” Jennifer said.

“My mother wanted to be a doctor. Now she sells kayaks.” Zack drank the rest of his soda and burped loudly. “Ooops, sorry.”

“You sound like my brother.” Jennifer laughed. “Hey, isn’t it cool, check this out, he gave me some of his stuff to use!” She spun around and showed off the new accessories.

“I like the shirt. I should get one in red, red’s a good color for me. Black folk look good in red.” Terry held his hand up against a red patch on his jacket.

“Are we going to get team shirts? All the other teams we’ve seen have them.” asked Gary.

“Gee…I didn’t think we’d have time. You have to order them. They’re about fifty bucks each.” Zack said.

“No way am I spending that much. Let’s just get white t-shirts with permanent marker or something.” Terry said.

“I can sew. Why don’t I ask my mom to help me make some? I’ve made shirts before. You just have to tell me the name.” said Elizabeth.

“She Devil’s, Daughters of Disaster, Pink Pain!” Shouted Jennifer.”

“Um, Jen, some of us are guys.” Gary said.

“I ain’t wearing no pink shirt I can tell you that right now.” Terry laughed.

“You know, I never picked the name for the Zombies. It was mostly Mike’s idea. I wanted us to be ‘Archangels’, but he said it was too religious.” Zack said.

“Well, let’s throw some other ideas around and pick one we can all agree on.” Elizabeth said. “Hey look, the Sun’s out!”

In an instant all the clouds moved and the warm May sun beat down on the drenched grass. Zack was reminded of several religious television shows he’d watched with his parents, Noah, Jesus, and ‘The Perfect Storm’ came into his mind at the same time, crowding each other for attention.

“What?” He’d been day dreaming.

“Let’s play again. Gary has to leave in an hour and a half.” said Jennifer.

Zack looked up at the clouds again. “Ok, but we have to pray hard this time.”

“Did you say ‘play hard’, or ‘pray hard’?” Terry asked.

“Pray hard. I know it sounds weird but my parents do it a lot and it seems to work, sort of.” Zack looked around for a second then bowed his head. The others followed his lead.

The remainder of the practice was spent playing against a team of four college students in a natural wooded field with no artificial hides.

“Listen, I want Terry to move out quick, we’ll cover you, and get behind that big tree. You can cover us as we move across the front."

“Ok, I can get there.”

“Liz and Jen, I want you to fire and keep firing and reloading when you run out. Fire two rounds per second until you see one of them peep out, then fire as fast as you can.”

“Isn’t that a waste of ammo?” asked Jen.

“Not if we win!” Zack laughed.

“Gary will snipe then if they try and run. I’m going to move behind Terry and if they’re still in the game we should be able to get behind them and finish them off.”

At the referee’s signal they covered Terry as he rushed forward. Liz hit one of the others and it was three against five.

“Keep firing!” Zack yelled.

Zack watched Terry weave and bob from behind his tree and ran behind him then knelt next to him. His knees pushed into the soft mud and he sank three inches.

“Ground’s soft.” He said.

“The girls got two of them pinned. I can get around that tree to the left if you cover me, we on?” Terry stood up behind the tree and flexed his legs.

“Ready on my mark, three…two…one…go!”

Terry ran from behind their cover. Zack fired towards where he thought one of the other team members was hiding. His rounds were only a foot away from Terry’s head and he held his line of fire steady. Terry was almost behind the enemy line when he saw a head pop up directly in his line of sight. Terry dove right and Zack took out the enemy with a shot to the head. Zack felt a round hit his mask around his mouth and tasted the bitter, but non-toxic, paint mix.

“I’m out!” He shouted, and moved off the field. A referee pointed for him to sit down on the grass.

Now it was two against four with Terry behind enemy lines. Zack saw Terry move in for a kill but the two remaining players must have seen him because he went down in a hail of paintballs. Terry walked off the field towards Zack.

“Three against two now.” Terry wiped several rounds from his facemask.

Liz and Jennifer said something to each other, then to Gary. The girls let out an unrelenting shower of fire on the stand of trees where the other team was hiding. Gary hobbled up between them to a forward position and stood up, firing a round every two seconds. Elizabeth and Jennifer stopped firing.

“I need more ammo!” Elizabeth shouted.

“I’m almost out!” Jennifer shrieked.

Gary remained standing and firing for five seconds. Both of the other players jumped up and began firing. Gary didn’t have a chance, but Elizabeth and Jennifer began firing again. Jennifer was shot out but shot her opponent out at the same time. Elizabeth ran forward as fast as she could while firing and yelling at the top of her lungs. She took out her man.

“Game over, the kids won!” shouted the referee.

Terry, Zack, Jennifer, and Gary all surrounded Elizabeth and exchanged high fives and lots of back slaps. The other team came over to shake their hands.

“Great match. You guys play well together. Maybe we can play against you again some time?”

“That would be great.”

“So what did we learn today guys?” Zack asked as they packed to go home.

“Duck more.” said Terry.

“It hurts getting hit a thousand times.” Gary laughed.

“Liz is a better shot than me.” Jennifer punched Liz in the arm.

“Ouch! I am not. You’re taller. Sneakiness is fair and don’t be afraid to run into the line of fire.” Elizabeth kicked Jennifer in the butt with her toe. “Brat.”

“What did you learn Zack?” Liz

“Yes, fearless leader, give us a pearl of wisdom.” Terry said.

“The war plan is the first casualty of war, and, um…play hard and pray hard.”

Detour

Zack awoke with a yell, drenched in sweat and confused. He dreamt of being shot continually by the Zombies as Zoe twirled around in her new blue dress singing I’ve got you in my heart baaaaby!” In his dream James had a first aid kit and was wrapping a bandage around Jennifer’s head. Jennifer was holding an old fashioned musket, wearing a tricorn hat that made her look like a character from Johnny Tremain. Zack was still emerging from the fog of his weird dream when Zoe pushed open his door so hard that it crashed into the wall behind it. Zack jumped up, startled.

“Happy Sunday!” shouted Zoe with a smile. “Come on slowpoke, you’re going to miss the bus.”

She slammed the door on her way out.

With breakfast in him and church ahead of him Zack’s strange dream faded to the recesses of his mind.

“Drat!” said his father from the front.

The car shook a little as their father pulled into the breakdown lane of the stretch of road leading to their church.

“Flat?” asked his mom.

“Yes, I’ll get the spare out of the back. Why don’t you all hop out and go there on the grass. Zack you can help.”

“Dad why don’t we just use that can of flat fixer?” asked Zack.

“Because we’d have to replace the tire instead of just getting it patched. The goo you spray inside messes up a patch job. A penny saved…”

“…is a penny earned, I know.” Zack smirked.

Zack and his father got the jack and spare tire out of the back and soon had the sedan’s flat tire off and the spare on.

“Here give that bolt one more spin.” Mr. Margolis let Zack give all the bolts one last turn of the tire iron. Zack strained with the heavy tool but was gratified to feel the bolts tighten a little more with his efforts.

They stowed the tools and the tire back in the trunk then called the women to get back in the car. Zoe jumped in the front seat and cried “Shotgun!”

“Dad, I should get shotgun I helped with the tire.” He complained.

“Zoe, let your brother sit up front.” said his dad.

“No way, he always gets what he wants when he asks you.” Zoe tried pulling the door shut as Zack held it open with his hand.

Zoe to pulled the door shut with all her strength but Zack wouldn’t let go.

“Zack and Zoe stop right now or I’ll…” began their mother.

Zack’s hand slipped and his three small fingers were caught between the door and body of the car as Zoe pulled the door closed. For her part Zoe managed to pull the heavy door shut with all her strength, right into her nose. Zoe and Zack’s screams weren’t heard by the motorists passing by on the road.

In the emergency room a tired looking resident doctor put twelve stitches in three of Zack’s fingers.

“You are lucky they are not broken.” He said.

Another doctor applied tape and bandages to Zoe’s broken nose.

“There won’t be any scarring honey, although it looks bad right now. In a few weeks no one will know anything was wrong.

“But I have to go to the senior formal like this! I’ll look like a freak!” She cried.

Zack experimentally attempted to wiggle his trigger fingers.

“Ouch!” He exclaimed.

“You don’t want to anything strenuous, sports and that sort of thing, for a week. Give the cuts and bruises a change to heal.” said the doctor.

“But I’ve got a paintball tournament to play next weekend. How can I play if I can’t fire my marker?” Zack held his fingers as still as possible.

For their part Mr. and Mrs. Margolis were restrained in their comments. On the ride home they didn’t say anything to their children but listened to the Park Street Church service from Boston. At home Zoe hid in her room and Zack completed some homework then read a spy novel until dinnertime.

“Get your coats on we’re going out to eat then to a Sunday night service.” Their father said.

“What? I can’t go out like this. I look like the bride of Frankenstein.” Zoe crossed her arms and sat down hard on the floor like a petulant six-year old.

“I don’t feel like going out much either dad. Can’t we just stay home?” Zack said.

“We missed church this morning because of your…accidents. However, it’s still the Sabbath and I for one could use a good worship service and a sermon.” said their mother.

“Well I’m not going!” Zoe started crying again.

For the first time that day, Zack felt badly for her, despite his own anger at her nearly breaking his fingers. She did look awful.

“If you don’t go to dinner and church with us tonight you won’t be going to your formal dance. And believe me when I say it Zoe.” Their father spoke with a tone that left no room for argument.

Zoe stood up, stamped her foot and put her coat on in a huff that was audible.

At the Chinese restaurant Zoe and Zack received loving attention from a grandmotherly hostess who hovered over them like a mother hen. Apparently, their father’s law firm took clients there on a regular basis and they knew him well.

“I have just thing for broken bone. Special drink for young flower.” said Mrs. Ling, whom everyone called “Nana”.

Zoe’s spirits perked up when a waitress brought her a non-alcoholic concoction of fruit juices and syrups in a large margarita glass frosted with sugar and decorated with a paper parasol and cherries.

“It’s soooo good!” said Zoe, with more joy than she’d expressed all day. “Thank you Nana.”

Zack couldn’t hold his fork normally so he made a fist and held it like a club.

“Zack you look like a hillbilly, a caveman hillbilly.” Zoe said.

Zack didn’t know whether he should make a joke about her looking like the lead roll in a horror movie or take the high road and apologize. He split the difference.

“I’m sorry about your nose. Do you want me to tell everyone that we got into a fight?”

“No, I’d have to break your nose to make it look like it was an even fight. I’ll tell the truth if you will.” Zoe pushed her drink towards Zack. “I can’t drink any more.”

He drank the rest.

Because there was no Sunday school or child care at the evening service Zoe and Zack sat with their parents and about forty other people. Instead of a band there was a pianist playing hymns and Zack recognized some of them as ones his mother sang around her store. Pastor Dan’s sermon was short and to the point. Zack remembered it as something about a prodigal son, but what he really remembered from the service was the pastor and several others, including their parents, praying for he and Zoe’s injuries to be healed quickly.

That night Zack sat up reading a comic book and listening to music. His dad came in as he usually did to kiss him good night.

“How are your fingers?”

“It only hurts if I try and wiggle them. I haven’t tried firing my marker yet, that is if I’m even still allowed to play.” Zack looked at his father pointedly.

“Zack, Zack, Zack…” His father shook his head from side to side. “What happened to you and your sister was an unfortunate accident caused by your mutual greed and lust for the privilege of sitting in the front seat.” He sat on the side of Zack’s bed and put a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder.  “So, what did we learn today?”

“Zoe’s a lot stronger than she looks and a lot better looking with bandages on her face?” Zack laughed and Mr. Margolis chuckled despite himself.

“Really Zack, what did you learn today?”

Zack hated his father’s nightly questions because he could hardly ever think of anything interesting. Zack thought back over the day’s events at something that would appease his father’s request.

“Greater love hath no one than he that lay down his life for his friends?” Zack said, relying on an old standby.

“Close enough Pal. You’re not grounded or anything. Just be more careful ok?” His dad kissed him on the forehead and turned out his light.

“Good night beloved son.”

“Good Night Dad.”

 

 

Theology and Dirty Socks

On Wednesday Zack couldn’t wait any longer and had to see if he could fire his paintball marker. He enlisted his mother’s help.

“Ok now take the tape and tape those three fingers together.”

Zack’s mother looked at him, then down at his fingers, then at him again. “Are you sure you want me to do this? It’s going to hurt like the dickens if you move one and not the others.”

“I am willing to take that risk.” Zack held the scissors and medical tape out to her.

Mrs. Margolis cut three long strips of tape and carefully wound them around and between Zack’s three injured fingers.

“The pinky’s still a little swollen. Does it hurt?”

“No, I think it’s less swollen than yesterday. Can you cut off that little piece that’s dangling?”

With two snips of the scissors Zack’s three right hand fingers were taped together and immobile.

“Do you really think this will help you play better?”

“I can hardly play at all right now. Whenever I go to shoot I keep hitting my fingers against the trigger guard. At least this way they won’t even be in the way.”

Zack picked up his marker and flexed his index finger experimentally. He held the gun to his shoulder and fired two rounds.

“Well, I can shoot again, not very fast, but I can shoot.” Zack felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“I don’t want you pulling those stitches out young man. At the first sign of bleeding I’m forbidding you from using that thing, understand? No overdoing it.” Mrs. Margolis held Zack’s cheeks between her palms as if she were talking to a naughty four-year-old.

“I understand Mom.” came out as “Mmy, mnersnd Mmmm.”

She let go of his face and messed up his hair. “And we need to get you a haircut before the tournament. I want you looking nice if you win and they put your picture in the paper.”

“They never put pictures of this in the paper mom. They only do normal sports like basketball and hockey.”

Zack fired his marker a few more times. His injured fingers ached after only six rounds. He took a break and flopped down on his bed while his mother rummaged through a pile of his dirty clothes.

“Mom, why do bad things happen?”

“It’s usually because you use too much bleach in with colored clothes. Is that what you mean?”

Zack laughed. His mother had a quick wit.

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, do you want the long answer or the short answer?” She threw five dirty white socks in a pile and searched for the sixth.

“I want the medium answer.”

“Ok, well as far as I can tell…no wait. Why do you thing bad things happen?”

Zack hated when his parents answered a question with another question.

“Because we’re bad people…God doesn’t care sometimes?” Zack tried to remember what he learned in Sunday school but all he could think of was Jesus on a cross, Noah in the Ark, and Moses with those stone tablets.

“I think that you can safely rule out that God doesn’t care sometimes as a choice. He always cares. That still doesn’t answer your question though does it?” Mrs. Margolis found the sixth dirty white sock and threw it in the pile with the others then sat down beside Zack.

“There are three reasons why bad things happen, the World, the Flesh, and the Devil.”

“That sounds like a T.V show!”

“Yeah, it does a little, doesn’t it? But the world we live in is kind of a hostile environment to us, isn’t it? We don’t ‘fit in’ to the natural world the way most animals do. Our bodies aren’t equipped with fur or blubber to keep us warm. We don’t have any specially created organs that allow us to get our food easily, do we?”

“No, but we have brains!”

“True, but the natural world isn’t really our home in the way it is for animals and we have to force the ground to give us what we need to eat and rip up the environment to build shelters for ourselves. Not only that but natural disasters like floods, earthquakes, and tornadoes kill lots of people. Eventually we all die which is both a blessing and a curse.”

“Other people kill people too though.”

“Yes, our flesh, meaning not our physical bodies but our will, our desires. Are all your desires good?”

“Mostly...”

“What about times you’ve been angry with Zoe? Didn’t you ever feel like hurting her, killing her even?”

“Yeah, sometimes I have.” Zack admitted.

“But you don’t act on it do you? You understand that it’s evil to do evil things you think about right?”

“Are we talking about Zoe or people in general?” Zack smirked.

“Zackary…”

“Ok, Yes, I understand it’s wrong but who doesn’t?”

“Lots of people who are in jail or dead, they had evil in their heart and they took their thoughts and intentions and acted on them, hurting others in the process."

“And that’s the flesh? What about the devil?”

“Well, not everything bad that happens is a result of our world or our flesh. I think that Satan, who’s just a fallen angel, can whisper ideas into people’s minds and tempt them to do evil. Sometimes I think that the devil just mixes truth with lies to get people away from knowing and loving God. He’ll even use good things to destroy people just as long as they’re destroyed.”

Zack said in a fake T.V. announcer voice, “The world, the flesh, and the devil, brought to you by Lucky Aid, for all your toilet paper and greeting card needs!”

“Does that answer your question honey?” Zack’s mother picked up an armful of laundry and yawned.

“I guess. So what was it that made Zoe and I hurt each other?”

“What do you think made you want to hurt each other?”

After carefully considering all the possibilities Zack didn’t like the answer.

Birth of the Fisher Kings

The fishing derby was Mr. Margolis’ idea, not Zack’s, but in the end he appreciated it.

“Get your team together Zack. We can have them out at the lake for an afternoon of fishing and feed them all with what we catch. And if we don’t catch anything we can cook burgers and dogs on the grill.”

Mrs. Margolis was less enthused about taking precious hours away from her store on a busy Saturday, but all her husband had to do was point to baby pictures of Zack and Zoe.

“Look how fast they grow up. What’s a few hours on a Saturday measured against all the time you’ll have in the store when they’re grown and gone?”

Jennifer arrived first and helped Mrs. Margolis load the canoes from the storage shed to the dock. Zack’s mother had a way of putting people to work without resorting to guilt or sympathy. Zack helped two customers and got out the fishing gear from the shed.

“Jen, can you help me bring these down to the dock? The others should be here soon.”

“I wish I had what you have.”

“Well, it’s a lot of work. I mean, my mom puts in lots of hours during the summer.”

“No, I mean having a mom at all.”

“Oh.”

“Your mom’s easy to talk to. She doesn’t try to put everyone in a box. Like because James kept getting into trouble in fifth grade my mom kept expecting him to be bad and eventually James expected it of himself, stupid right? Dad was too busy with work and didn’t fight for him when he wasn’t doing something bad.”

“Don’t tangle the lines of those rods. Carry one in each hand.”

“Sure. Anyway it’s like your mom has this power, a good power, or something.”

“Let’s get two life preservers in each boat and everyone gets one bait container.” Zack handed Jennifer a stack of plastic containers filled with night crawlers.

“Ick. I’ll let someone else bait my hook.”

“Don’t you get to dissect worms in seventh grade?”

“Yea but they’re not alive when you dissect them.”

“How’d your mom die?” Zack instantly regretted asking the question but curiosity got the best of him.

“She had diabetes and kept eating foods that were bad for her. She went into a coma and never woke up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s weird not having her there. Dad was mad that she didn’t take better care of herself.”

“Is you brother mad that you’re on our team?”

“No way, he doesn’t care! He’s psyched to be on the Zombies. He needs more friends anyway. After mom died he locked himself in his room and drew that comic book of his.”

“He draws comic books?”

“Yes, he’s a good artist but he never shows anyone.”

“My mom’s waving for you. She’s probably making sandwiches.”

“Your mom expects everyone to be good and she makes you want to be good. She talks about God a lot but like he’s just another friend of hers. I’d better go.”

Zack looked at his mother and tried to imagine life without her.

He couldn’t.

Zack put a shiny gold lure on Elizabeth’s line as the little canoe floated on the becalmed water.

“Ok, cast it out.”

She let the rod swing behind her head and whipped it forward without pushing the release on the reel. The barbed hook caught on hood of Zack’s sweatshirt and pulled it up.

“Stop, Stop, that’s my head!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Zack! I thought the string came out by itself.”

Liz lowered her rod and Zack pulled off his sweatshirt to disentangle the lure. From another boat Jennifer saw what happened and shouted “A.P. Liz, A.P.!”

“I am not. It could have happened to anyone!” Liz yelled back.

“What’s A.P.?” Zack asked as he took the hook out of his hood.

“Accident prone, she thinks I’m accident-prone because the first week I was here I fell off the riser in chorus and sprained my ankle.”

“I thought I saw you on crutches.”

“Then I dislocated my thumb in gym during dodge ball right after I got off the crutches.”

“It could happen to anyone. Ok Liz, cast your line again and this time push the release as you cast.”

Liz swung her rod behind her again and released the reel so that she cast directly behind her and caught the tip of Zoe’s canoe.

“Hey! You could have put my eye out you know!” Zoe shouted.

Mr. Margolis released her line.

“Sorry Zoe!”

“A.P.” Shouted Jennifer again.

“Am not, I’m just gifted!”

Liz’s pale cheeks turned red and Zack bit his lip to keep from laughing. Suddenly her reel began whirring.

“You got something Liz! Reel it in slowly.”

Elizabeth reeled in a large trout and Zack used the net to bring it into the boat.

“Oh, Its skin is so beautiful. Look at those colors!” She stroked the fish delicately with her finger. The fish’s rainbow hued skin glistened in the sunlight.

“Do you want to keep it or throw it back? It’s regulation size so we can keep it if you want to.”

“I don’t like fish much but I’ve never had trout. Would you eat it?”

“Oh yeah, I love trout.”

“Then let’s keep it.”

“I’ll skin it and my mom can fry it up for us.”

Zack put another hook on her line and Elizabeth cast again. This time she cast correctly but with such gusto that the rod crashed over Zack’s head and fell apart where the top and bottom halves fit together.

“Ouch.” Zack winced. “Ok, now you’re dangerous.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I was trying to cast away from the others.”

Immediately the reel began whirring and Liz pulled the line in by hand. Liz had caught another large trout.

“We can feed everyone tonight. Is fishing always this easy? Daddy took me hunting once. I got a deer and six squirrels.”

“You got a deer?” Zack didn’t know if she were kidding or not.

“Fishing isn’t usually this easy.. Hold this.” Zack gave Liz his rod to hold as he unhooked the trout and reassembled her rod.

“Can you believe this is the first time I’ve been fishing?”

“You’re getting lots of fish, that’s for sure.”

“I’m going to cast perfectly this time, watch.”

Elizabeth cast as Zack ducked a little. Unfortunately Liz let go of the rod and it, along with the line, went sailing forward. Liz put her hands to her mouth in horror.

“Your dad lets you handle a gun?”

“I’m so sorry, what do we do?”

“Its ok, let’s just row to where it is. The rods float for a few minutes. I’ve dropped them before.” Zack paddled toward the rod which was bobbing in the water.

“Zack, why is the rod moving away from us?”

It was moving forward in the water as if something was pulling it. Zack paddled faster and Liz grabbed it just before it was pulled under. Her arm was soaked to the shoulders but she’d caught another large trout.

“We should leave some for the others.” Zack said.

“That’s three, we need two more.”

“I don’t think we’ll survive two more.”

“The rod’s soaked. Should we let it dry out?”

“No, as long as there’s nothing caught in the gears we can keep fishing.”

Zack affixed another lure to the line and for the rest of the afternoon Elizabeth made perfect casts. She did not catch any more fish that day.

“She caught another fish?” asked Terry.

“What’s she using as bait?” Gary looked over his shoulder towards them.

“I don’t know but we should get some.”

Gary tugged on his line and said, “Here fishy fishy…they’re not biting.”

“My dad and I came here one weekend last year and caught eight in one hour then nothing else for the rest of the day.”

“When it rains it pours.” Gary pulled his line in and affixed a different lure then cast out again.

“Hey Gary, are you graduating with us, our class? I heard that you’re going to Central next year.”

“Well, I have to go to summer school and do a lot of extra work, but yeah, I’m graduating with you, if I live that long.”

Terry’s eyes popped out. “Hey man, don’t be talking like that. I thought you said were cured?”

“Hey, I got one!” Gary reeled his line in slowly and pulled a trout beside the boat. “Get the net.”

Terry used the big green net to get he fish into the boat. “It’s a good size.”

Gary used a pair of pliers to remove the lure and gave it to Terry.

“Hey, try this. I think it’s got the shiny quality they like.”

Terry put the hook on his line and cast out again. They sat in companionable silence for a while.

“The cancer might be back. They found something at my last check-up but they couldn’t tell what it was because it was so small. Don’t tell anyone, ok? People get uncomfortable and I don’t want that anymore.” Gary tugged on his line experimentally.

“Damn, it’s not fair.” Terry said, frowning and looking down at his shoes.

“I know.” Gary said with a sigh. “I mean, this is Liz’s first time fishing and she’s caught three already and we’ve got one.” Gary smirked and Terry laughed.

“You’re funny. My momma says that laughter is the best medicine.”

“It beats the heck out of chemotherapy.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to high school next year. Where does the time go?” Mr. Margolis shook his head from side to side.

“Don’t get all weepy dad, it’s not like I’m going away to college yet.”

“No, but it’s just around the corner. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“I should take this tape off. It’s going to leave a weird tan line if we’re out here much longer.” Zoe felt her face and pulled her large brimmed hat lower on her face.

“You’ll look like some kind of super hero from those movies your brother likes.”

“I’ll look like one of the X-men.” Zoe let her arm rest in the water over the side of the boat.

“Who are they? Are they women who used to be men, ex men? What kind of super power is that?”

Zoe laughed at her father’s lack of pop cultural knowledge. “Can we go to the mall tonight?”

“I hadn’t planned on going anywhere. What do you need?”

“I don’t need anything I just want to buy something.”

“Well, we’re staying here tonight so I’m not planning on going to the mall. Do you have to buy something?” Mr. Margolis’ tone revealed his aggravation.

“No, I don’t have to, but I want to. Why are you always so uptight about us spending money? Aren’t we rich?”

“Compared to the rest of the world we are incredibly wealthy beyond most people’s wildest dreams. Compared to most people in the United States we’re well off, upper middle class. That’s not the point though.”

“What is the point daddy? What’s wrong with spending money for fun stuff?”

“Aren’t you having fun now? It’s a beautiful day and you’re with your family and friends.”

“Zack’s friends.”

“In answer to your question there’s nothing wrong with spending money on fun stuff but you have to ask whose money is it?”

“It’s my money. I earned it babysitting didn’t I?”

“Well, God wants you to be a good steward of what he gives you Zoe.”

“Daddy, I don’t even know if I really believe in God. Look at all the terrible things that happen in the world. How about that girl who was abducted and murdered by that guy she met on-line? Where was God when she was being molested and killed?” Zoe’s mood shifted from becalmed to stormy in a micro-second.

“People make choices Zoe and…”

“Don’t lecture me daddy. If God wanted to he could have stopped that, and lots of other bad things, from happening, but he didn’t and he doesn’t.”

Mr. Margolis took a deep breath and wondered when, or if, the storm would pass.

“Is it much farther Mrs. Margolis?” Jennifer was surprised that could only paddle one stroke for every two of hers. She thought she was stronger than that.

“It’s just ahead by that stand of willows. Zack thinks it’s too shallow, but I’ve caught some of the biggest fish here. Plus if we get too hot we can slip under the shade of the trees for a while.”

They went another fifty yards then stopped. Mrs. Margolis dropped a small anchor over the side and stowed her paddle. Jennifer got the poles out and handed one to her.

“Can you bait a hook?”

“Show me and I can do it myself.”

Jennifer’s mouth twitched once when Mrs. Margolis hooked a worm but she didn’t hesitate when she put her own on.

“So what are your plans for the summer?”

“We’re going to stay with my Aunt Kelly in New Hampshire. She runs this kennel and we’re going to work there.”

“I’m not hearing that you’re thrilled about this. Do you like your aunt?”

“Oh no, she’s great. She was really there for us after mom died, and still is. But I don’t want to be away from home all summer. All my friends are here, and dad too.”

“Oh, I getcha. Did you tell your father how you feel?”

“No, I don’t want him to feel guilty for sending us away. Hey I got one!”

“Atta girl! See, I told you his was a good spot.”

Jennifer reeled the fish in and put it in the bucket.

“We went fishing when we were on vacation two summers ago. That was the last time.”

“I remember when you all came into the store to rent a boat. You’re a lot taller now.”

Jennifer cast out again and played the rod on the sparkling water.

“My mom used to make cod with Ritz crackers crumbled over the top and butter mixed in. It was amazing. I had trout with some kind of nuts on it at this restaurant we went to for daddy’s birthday. I can still remember the waitress’s name. Isn’t that weird?”

“I tend to associate people and places with smells and tastes. I have vivid memories of the way my grandmother looked and sounded whenever we have lasagna for dinner. Any time my husband lights his pipe I think of my Uncle Joe.”

Jennifer looked down at her fish and smiled.

“It was probably trout with almonds that you had. I can make it for you that way if you’d like. Zack likes his fish plain and Zoe only eats swordfish.”

“Can I help? I love to cook.”

“I’ll just coach you along through the recipe. Do you do a lot of cooking at home?”

“A little, I can make pasta and hot dogs.”

Jennifer giggled a little then laughed out loud.

“I sense a funny story coming on.” Mrs. Margolis smiled.

“Daddy’s secretary did the shopping for us a month after mom died. She thought she was doing us a favor.”

Jennifer threw her head back and laughed some more.

“But instead of buying regular groceries she bought us about twenty vegetarian organic frozen dinners, soy milk, and organic energy bars. I remember the look on dad’s face when he got home, opened the freezer and saw all this food he’d never buy for himself. He was so mad at her. It was hilarious to me and James because we knew his secretary was a nut.”

“Did you end up eating the food?”

“No, we donated all of it to a shelter that night and we went out for tacos. Dad does the shopping every Monday after work and Aunt Kelly comes every few weeks to check on us.”

“It’s nice that you have family close to you to help you.”

“Your church made us some meals too. Someone made us baked ziti that James and I scarfed down before dad could get any. Did you make it?”

“No, I think I made chicken wings with honey mustard sauce.”

“I don’t remember those.”

“Maybe your dad ate them down before you could get any.” Mrs. Margolis chuckled. “My husband and Zack are wild about boiled chicken livers. I buy a pint of them every so often and they actually count them to make sure neither gets too many.”

“That sounds gross.”

“I’m with you. I wouldn’t even cook them for my own husband.”

“The people in your church were so nice to us. Mom hardly even went there.”

“That’s what the bible tells us to do. Love each other, right?”

 “That’s it?”

“We don’t need much more than that, do we?”

“I went to Elizabeth’s church a bunch of times. They have a rockin band and they dance around a lot.”

“You like going there?”

“Sometimes when the preacher talks, he makes me feel like God knows exactly what’s going on inside of me, like he can read my mind.”

“You know, not to get too religious on you, but there’s a poem in the bible that talks about that very thing. It goes like this: (psalm 149)

“…then Zack held the scissors up in one hand and Zoe’s pigtail in the other and said ‘Now they’re even!’”

Laughter erupted around the campfire and Zoe blushed.

“Daddy, it’s not funny, I flushed Zack’s little army guys down the toilet for that.”

More laughter erupted.

“I need more chocolate. It’s not a smores if there’s no chocolate.” Gary put a marshmallow between two graham crackers took a piece offered by Zoe.

“I’m so stuffed. Thanks for cooking Mrs. Margolis.” said Elizabeth.

“My pleasure honey, we had enough fish to go around thanks to you.” Mrs. Margolis licked chocolate off of her fingers.

“So do you all feel ready for the tournament?” Mr. Margolis asked.

General agreement was voiced and Zack felt a wave of pleasure wash over him. The team had come together in an amazingly short amount of time.

“I think we’re going to kick some serious butt Mr. M.” said Terry.

“We don’t have a name though.” said Gary around a mouthful of smores.

“We don’t need to have one since we’re not registered as an official team. There are lots of people who just go and play together.” Zack said.

“But we are a team and we deserve a name.” Jennifer said. “How about ‘The Paint Queens’?”

“I was thinking about ‘David’.” Elizabeth said.

“Who’s David?” asked Jen.

“No, I mean naming us after King David. You know, the one who smote Goliath?” Elizabeth asked.

“Do you mean that old puppet, stop-motion program they play on Sunday mornings? ‘Gee Davy, I thought you brought the ammo.’” Gary’s impression of the beloved children’s show was dead on.

“My vote is for ‘Terry J. and His All Star Posse.’” Terry stood up and performed a little hip-hop dance.

“Dad, what’s the name of that guy in the story you used to read to me. You know, the one where he’s from Atlantis and the father of Merlin the Magician?”

“I remember now, ‘The Fisher King’. Maybe you could be the Fisher Kings?”

“That’s perfect.”

“I like it!”

“Better than what I could have come up with.”

“Excellent.”

“Zack make a toast.” His father prompted.

“Why are you still hungry? I don’t think we have any more bread…” Zack looked around for the bread bag.

“No dopey, he means like at a wedding.” Zoe chided.

“Ohhhh! I get it. Ok everyone get their glasses. To the Fisher Kings, the best team I’ve ever played on and um…Merry Christmas!”

Showdown

Hundreds of people arrived at Canobee Paintball very early on the morning of the tournament. Some had even camped out the night before, enjoying campfires, games, and friends. Toddlers wearing camouflage and carrying toy paintball markers walked with their fathers. Parents and grandparents carrying camcorders captured scenes of their loved ones lives. Zack and the Fisher Kings arrived in separate cars and found a table among the dozens that were set up under a tent. No one made small talk. Even Jennifer and Elizabeth were quiet. Each was left with their own thoughts.

Gary

Pods are full. Tank is full. Scope is clean. Shoot! I forgot my kneepads. Maybe I can just kneel on one knee? God, I hope my cancer isn’t coming back. I can’t take another round of chemo and radiation. Please God, let it just be a mistake. Extra belt with my tool kit in case something gets jammed. I wonder if I’ll get to take out any of the Zombies. That jerk Mike will be the first to go down. I hope my parents get some good pictures of us. Some of those teams look really professional.

Terry

You are going to run fast and play hard and you are going to win. All your shots are going to count and every target will go down. I am the man! Zoe’s so hot looking. What did I ever do to deserve her? Oh yea, I’m the man!

Jennifer

I hope I do ok. What if I screw up? I’ll never live it down if Jim shoots me out. I wish these stupid masks had better straps; it’s going to wreck my hair again. Maybe I should join the Marines like that soldier who came to visit. She looked great in her uniform. Oh God! Daddy has the camcorder out. Zack’s cute, so serious though. Long lashes shouldn’t be wasted on boys. Ok, tank is full, pods are full, chest protector is on, like I have anything down there to protect, extra thingee for the barrel. I’m all set! I love you Mom, if you’re up there I love you and I hope you help me do good today. I’m stocked and loaded! Or is it locked and loaded?

Elizabeth

Lord Father thank you so much for this opportunity to bring you glory this day Father God. Protects us and watch over us so that none of us are hurt and help us to do our best for you and Your Glory, Father God. Bless my marker and make me shoot straight and true like your word Father God. Bless Terry, Jen, Gary, and Zack and may they all come to a deeper understanding of your love for them, in Jesus’ name, Amen. And I’ve got my marker, tank, extra paint doohickeys, glass cleaner for my mask. Hey there’s Christian. “Hi Christian!”, maybe he didn’t hear me through his mask. God Bless Christian and may he come to know you in a deeper and fuller way. He’s cute. I wonder if I should bring a water bottle on the field, no, I can’t ever take the mask off or we’re disqualified. I’m so ready for this! Oh rats, I have to pee again.

Zack

Marker: cleaned, loaded with paint, hopper closed tight, barrel sock on, safety on, CO2 tank full, shoulder stock adjusted for correct length.

Mask: visor clean, straps adjusted, extra clear plastic faceplate taped on.

Gloves: itchy

Supplies: all pods filled and secure, extra barrel stowed, wrist rocket packed, visor cleaner.

What did dad say? “Play your game, not your opponent’s game.” I’ll say that before we go out. Ok, Zombies, we’re playing you first, then the Rippers. You’d better be ready because I’m in the mood for winning.

Zoe

What am I doing here? It’s way too early to be awake on a holiday weekend. My mouth feels like it’s full of ashes. I’m so tired of my hair, should I bite the bullet and get it cut short? I won’t be able to whip it around on the dance floor if I do it before he formal. Maybe it would take attention away from my stupid nose. Stupid Zack, I hope your fingers hurt today. I hope you lose and Mike nails you in the face and breaks your nose. Jerk. Hey there’s Kerry. “Hi Kerry”, maybe she didn’t hear me? No, she’s just being a jerk, as usual. How would she feel if her nose were broken? “Oh Hi Kerry, yes my brother’s playing today. Is that your new iPod?”

The referees walked out to the mid-sized field with the inflatable barriers and shook hands with the teams.

“Ok, this first match will be a simple “last man standing” contest. After you shake hands I’ll blow the horn and you’ll have fifteen seconds to get settled then the second horn will blow and you can begin firing. Now shake hands and have a great match.”

Zack shook his former teammate’s hands.

“Good shooting Zack.” James said charitably.

“We’re going to cream you Zack.” Mike wouldn’t let go of Zack’s hand and squeezed as hard as he could. Zack squeezed back. “We’re like wild men on the field.”

A few of the Zombies snickered.

Terry stood behind Zack and said, “Proof is in the pudding boy. Quit screwing around and we’ll settle this.”

Mike pulled Zack so that their facemasks were almost touching. “Your slave won’t save you, ‘Massa Zack.”

Zack thought Terry was going to take a swing at Mike and had to push his body into Terry to get him away before something terrible happened.

“Terry, Terry! He’s trying to get us all riled up and off our game so that we’re not as effective in the first minute of game play. Ignore him. It’s just trash talk. We can flush his head down the toilet at school tomorrow.”

There was a lot of noise coming from the other team’s side and Zack heard threats and insults. Observers outside the safety nets were laughing or telling the Zombies to shut up and play.

One by one the Fisher Kings took their positions and shouted out to Zack.

“Set one!”

“Set two!”

“Set three!”

“Set four!”

“Set five!”

A bead of sweat slowly rolled down Zack’s temple, but his entire mind was focused like a laser on getting to the first forwards barrier. Zack’s heart was racing but he didn’t try to calm down because he knew he would need that oxygen carrying blood to power his leg muscles for the first run.

The horn blared and both teams began firing. Zack waited for Terry’s signal then moved forward as his team covered him. Although it was only ten yards, the distance from his barrier to the one in the middle of the field seemed like a mile.

“Run, Run, Run!” shouted the girls as they provided cover for both Zack and Terry from the flanks. Zack dove behind the forward barrier, safe.

A bell rang announcing first blood. Theo walked off the field with his marker in the air.

“I wonder if Gary got him?” thought Zack.

The sounds the guns made were all alike so there was no way to tell which person was firing.

“Cover two!” shouted Zack.

A barrage of fire covered Terry’s move up the field and another Zombie was rung off the field.

“Terry, execute plan Z on my mark, mark!” Zack counted down from ten and then everyone fired as many rounds as they could for five seconds then stopped. Zack jumped out from behind the barrier in the lull and made for the middle of the field.

As he hoped, someone thought he was an easy target and moved out of hiding to shoot him. Fortunately, Gary picked him off. Unfortunately another Fisher King went down.

Jennifer made her way off the field muttering under her breath.

“Stupid brother.”

“Liz, execute plan X on my mark, mark!” Zack shouted.

Plan X never saw the light of day because Mike picked Elizabeth off as she peeked out to check the path forward.

“Hey, Zack, that’s what you get having a blonde play for you!” Mike taunted.

It took all of Zack’s self-control not to run towards Mike firing for all he was worth. Terry looked over and motioned with his hand. Zack and Terry crawled on their bellies with as much stealth as they could towards the outer edges of the field. Gary fired one round per second trying to pin down the three remaining Zombies who were firing wildly at Gary’s position.

Terry made it to the edge of the field and saw a Zombie’s arm as it came up to fire.

“Got you sucka!” thought Terry.

He took careful aim and nailed the Zombie with only one shot. Now it was two against three.

Zack made it to the edge of his side of the field and waited. The ground smelled like a mixture of clover, dirt, and paint. Holding his breath, he shut his eyes and slowly moved his head to detect any sign of the enemy.

Click, click, click…

Someone was close by and had just run out of ammo. Zack heard a pod being opened and paintballs being poured into a hopper.

Phwat!

A round hit James who was on the other side of Zack’s barrier. The bell rang again.

“Damn!” said James, standing up and almost tripping over Zack as he made his way off the field.

A flash of motion caught his eye and Zack saw a Zombie heading for Gary’s position behind the wooden barrier.

Phwat, phwat, phwat, phwat, phwat…

The bell rang and Gary was out. Terry and Zack turned around and began firing as many rounds as they could at the last Zombie.

“Cover me!” shouted Terry.

Zack fired into the little window and around the doorframe. He was almost out of paint!

With his finger firing he opened his hopper and dumped a pod of paint in his marker one handed! Terry ran behind the wooden barrier and was shot out by Mike at the same instant that Zack popped Mike in the back. The bell rang twice bringing the total to nine, Zack was the last player alive on the field and since he was a Fisher King, the Fisher Kings won that match.

Zack, Terry, and Gary walked off the field to applause from the observers and hugs from their teammates.

“You did a great job, way to go guys!”

“Way to go pal!”

“Good strategy Zack. Good shooting Terry!”

The referee came out and congratulated them. “Your next match is in half an hour in the sand field. You can’t see it before you play and neither will the other team. It’s a hellish surprise so be ready.”

They retired to their tent area where their parent’s and friends awaited them. More congratulations and questions awaited them.

“Ok, we’ve only got a half hour. Let’s check our gear, clean up and discuss what we did right and what we need to improve on.” Zack said.

“I have to pee.” Jennifer said. She grabbed Elizabeth by the arm and they ran off to a port-o-potty.

“Why do girls always do that man? I’m not holding your hand if you need to take a dump Gary.” said Terry.

“Zack, I have to go number two, hold my hand?” Gary replied.

Zack began laughing hysterically. The stress of the first game was giving him the stress relief giggles, which he got whenever he had been too serious for too long. He wiped off his gear, loaded a new CO2 tank into his marker and refilled his empty pod belt.

“Gary, if we play the Zombies again I think we should try something different with you.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Zack outlined his plan and Gary nodded with approval.

“It’s quiet a risk but if it works it will give us an edge.” said Gary.

“We’ll need one. They’re good. I was surprised at how close we came to getting beat.” Zack adjusted his belt and gave his faceplate one last wipe.

“So how are we supposed to play if we’ve never seen the field before?”

“We have to improvise, like in jazz.” Terry said.

“You play jazz?” Gary asked.

“Basketball, jazz, it’s all the same. You’ve got to trust your instincts. Where’s that water? I need to re-hydrate.”

Jennifer and Elizabeth returned and began cleaning their equipment. “God, those bathrooms are horrible smelling! I almost hurled when I was in there. I couldn’t hold my breath long enough.”

“Get a move on ladies, we’ve got a date with a mystery.” Terry said.

They completed loading up and made their way to the field for their second match. It was a circular field surrounded by blue plastic to hide what was inside.

A referee came out with a trail of players behind him. One of the players was soaked to the waist.

“Ok…Fisher Kings. You’re going against um…” He consulted a wadded up piece of paper. “…the Rippers. I wonder if that’s short for ‘Jack the Rippers?’ Anyway, is your team ready?”

“We’re ready.” Zack said.

“The game is Capture the Flag. The goal is to pull down your enemy’s flag from their pole and hoist it up yours without getting shot. Your flag is blue, their’s is red. They’re mounted next to each other. I’ll explain more as soon as we’re in there.”

They stood around moving rocks with the toes of their boots for a few uncomfortable minutes. The referee looked at his watch twice. From inside the circle an air horn sounded three times.

“Ok, let’s go in. You can hide anywhere in the field. Play starts at the sound of the double horn which will be in about three minutes.” The referee checked each person’s gear as they went inside.

“Wow, they really went all out this time.” said Zack, looking around in awe.

“Oh my God it’s Saudi Arabia!” Elizabeth laughed.

“I’m expecting some camels too.” Terry turned in a complete circle taking it all in.

“It’s Desert Storm Five.” said the referee. “Don’t tell the other teams or they’ll have an advantage. I hope you enjoy it, it took all week to build.”

Seventy yards in circumference, the field was desert complete with extremely realistic looking plastic tanks, helicopters, palm trees, three or four pits filled with water, and two forty-foot flagpoles with one red, one blue flag on the top. An American flag stood taller between them. Tons of sand had been hauled in and someone had spent a lot of time grooming the surface to resemble a real desert.

Jennifer giggled and pointed at some plastic pink flamingos someone had stuck near a tank. The two teams walked to the middle of the field with several referees.

“Ok, Rippers, you’re red. Put these red armbands on. Fisher Kings, you’re blue, take these.” The referees handed five bands to each team and helped secure them to their arms.

“One minute to game play!” announced a referee from a platform that went around the entire field. A few spectators were watching as well as parents and friends with camcorders.

“It’s like being a gladiator in ancient Rome!” Terry shouted, clearly elated at being the center of attention.

“Ok, listen! Gary, get in that tank and cover us. Terry and Jen, move as close as you can to that other tank and try not to shoot each other.” Zack said.

“Where are you going?” Terry asked.

“It’s a surprise!” Zack said. “Liz, give me your marker!”

“What, it’s a rental. Yours is much better why would you…”

“No time, just give it and follow me!” She and Zack exchanged markers. As they ran he showed her where the safety was on his marker and how to fire it. Zack explained his strategy to Liz who gaped, open mouthed at him.

“You’re insane!” Liz said, but was already following his directions.

“Let’s get down before we get shot!” Zack shouted and Liz obediently knelt down.

The horn sounded and for a long minute, nothing happened. Maybe it was the newness of the kind of field they were playing on but no one moved, shot, or peeked out of their hides.

Jennifer and Terry were crouching down, wondering if they should take a chance on moving out.

“Where are Zack and Liz? They just disappeared.” Jen whispered.

“I don’t know but I’m not waiting around to find out. I’m going to run out there and I want you to cover me.” Terry flipped off his safety and peeked out. He was about to surge out when Jen grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back inside.

“You’re nuts. I’m smaller, maybe not faster than you, but if anyone can outshoot me it’s you. We need you to stay alive until one of us can get our flag down and up the other pole.” Jen took a quick peep out of the tank and saw a flash of red from the inside of the enemy tank. “Cover me.”

Jen jumped out of the tank and shot across the ‘desert’ firing at the enemy tank.

Phwat, phwat, phwat!

She nailed someone in the center of the facemask but was shot out in the leg for her efforts. Two bells rang.
“Sorry!” She said as she ran off the field.

“Zack, execute plan X!” Terry shouted and counted to ten.

He bolted from the tank only to be shot sixteen times by someone with a fully automatic marker.

“Damn!” He joined Jennifer who was watching from above.

It was now three against four. Terry noticed that Gary’s position was preventing him from getting a clear shot at the center of the field where the flags were. “That’s going to bite us in that ass, that is.” He said under his breath to Jen.

Gary’s heart was pounding. From his position across from Terry and Jen’s tank he had no clear shot at the enemy position or the flagpoles.

“If I move around the perimeter of the field I can get in a better position to take out one of their guys. That’s what they’re paying me for.”

Crawling on the ground in the sand was a little easier than on the dirt trail but it was slow going. Someone took a few shots at his position but a sand dune protected him from being picked off.

Four Rippers came out of their hiding spots in the helicopter with their backs to each other firing wildly. A three hundred sixty degree arc of paintballs flew out like an artillery barrage. Gary raised his marker to fire but two of them saw his movement against the sand and he was instantly overwhelmed by a fusillade of paintballs.

The bell rang again and Gary limped off the field, dripping red paint.

“It’s up to you Zack and Liz. Do us proud.” he thought.

“Where are they?” A.J., the leader of the Rippers asked his teammates.

“I don’t know. Keep firing! They’ll show up eventually.”

“Ok, make your way toward the flags and don’t let up!” A.J. opened his marker’s hopper and dumped a pod of ammo into it.

“I’m almost out of paint! All my pods are gone!” said Trudy, the only female member of the team.

“Grab one off my belt.” A.J. swiveled his hips towards her so she could grab one of his pods.

“Brad, get that flag down! We’re almost out of ammo.” shouted Paul.

Brad pulled the rope down and got their flag unhooked. He held it in his hand and looked up at the blue flag. His teammates fired wildly with him in the middle.

“Get theirs down!” A.J. pulled the blue flag down to half-staff when Elizabeth exploded out from underneath a sand dune next to the flagpoles catching them by complete surprise.

She fired at almost point blank range and took out two of them out before they got her out with a paint barrage to the face.

The bell tolled for her and she walked off the field, sand was still flowing out from her mask, shirt, and pants. Her head hung down as if in shame as she left.

No one saw her smile beneath her mask.

“Get that other flag up Brad! I’ll cover you!”

A.J. spun around with one marker in each hand and tried to cover his teammate for the win.

“I’ve got it!” Brad began pulling on the rope to raise the red flag.

Zack erupted out of the pit of water ten yards away from the flagpoles. He caught A.J. with a shot to the chest then took aim at Brad who held on to the flagpole rope with white knuckles.

“Surrender?” he asked as he moved towards his opponent.

“Never surrender, never give in!” Brad pulled on the rope defiantly and Zack put him out of the game with three shots to his unpadded legs.

“If he’s going to be brave I may as well give him something to brag about.”

Zack pulled the red flag all the way down and tossed it on the ground then put up the blue flag.

Back at their tent Zack explained his strategy as he dripped water on the ground. “I read something in a book about using the environment as part of your strategy and I knew as soon as I saw how open the layout was that we would need something the other team didn’t have. My wrist rocket slingshot has these rubber tubes and I pulled them off and gave one to Liz so she wouldn’t suffocate after I covered her with sand. I used one to breathe with and hoped that no one saw me get in the water. I knew that my marker wouldn’t work underwater because of the electronic trigger. But Liz had one of the old Tippman’s and you can fire those almost anywhere. I wasn’t sure it would actually work so I fired twice under the water. I used my little telescoping mirror to look out of the water pit, like a periscope.” Zack was grinning from ear to ear and rainbow colored water pooled around his feet.

“I can’t believe you did that! It took nerve.” Gary smiled. “Sorry I wasn’t more help guys. I picked a spot that looked good but everyone moved a little after I got settled in and it put me off my game.”

“Hey, it’s a team effort buddy. Look at me! I didn’t make it past the first slaughter.” Terry smacked Gary in the arm playfully.

“I was the first slaughter!” Jen laughed.

“There was a tiny space in the sand where I could peep out of. Zack told me to wait until they were hoisting the flags to make my move. Your gun is so much lighter than mine is! I can feel sand everywhere on my body. Ouch, careful mom.” Elizabeth’s mother was combing out her daughter’s hair releasing sand with every stroke.

“Honey, I haven’t combed your hair since you were eight!” Mrs. Parson said.

“Could you comb out my uniform? I think I have sand down my pants and shirt. It’s itchy.” Elizabeth wiggled around like a hip-hop dancer to dislodge the sand.

“Woo Hoo! Dance party, go Liz!” sang Jennifer.

“We couldn’t have won without you Liz. You took out two of them before they got you.” Zack gave her two thumbs up. “We’ll have to dry out your marker. Maybe we can put it next to the car’s heater and turn the heater way up?”

“Zack what are you going to do?” Gary asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re soaking wet dude. Did you bring a change of clothes?” Terry asked as he reloaded his marker.

“Um…” Zack looked down and realized he was a little cold.

“Good thinking in the short term, bad thinking in the long term.” Jennifer opened a bag of carrot sticks and fed one to Elizabeth who was still shaking sand out of her clothes.

Zack’s mother solved the problem by agreeing to drive home and get a change of clothes for him.

“Thanks mom.” Zack gave her a hug, which made the front of her shirt wet.

“Oops, sorry Mom.”

“And I’ll need a change of clothes for myself.” She said as she left.

Because the Fisher Kings had won both of their initial matches they had earned a rest and would play the wild card team for the win.

“Hey, the Zombies beat a team in the next age group after losing again to one in their own category.” Terry pointed to the board as the scorekeeper updated the matches. “They’re the wildcard team. If the Blasters lose we have to play the Zombies in the final this afternoon.” Gary took a handful of carrots from Jennifer’s bag and munched them.

“Save some for the bunnies! When do we play next?” She asked.

“Two hours. Let’s get some food, my mom’s bringing burgers and Cole slaw.” Terry waved at his parent’s as they laid out some food at their table. Other parents made food magically appear and the Fisher Kings feasted on, cheeseburgers, tuna sandwiches, potato salad, Cole slaw, pizza, cheese noodles, soda, and cupcakes. James wandered over with his father and a container of chicken wings.

“Mind if we join you?” asked Mr. Lassonde

“Come on in, the water’s great. Just ask Zack.” Mr. Margolis stood up to shake his hand.

“Great job Zack, you guys.” James nodded towards the Fisher Kings.

“It was close. How did you beat the high school team?” Gary asked. “Here, have some carrots.” He said, handing him the bag.

“Actually it was easier than playing you guys. They had only played together once and their strategy was to hide until we shot them all.” He laughed. “Mike thought it was a fantastic win, but I didn’t think so. “Hey, how come you’re all wet?”

Zack explained about the water pits in Desert Storm Four before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to give an advantage to the other teams.

“Ooops.”

“I’m not sure we’re even playing there. I promise on my honor that I will not divulge the information I’ve received from you.” James raised his hand and stood at attention as he recited his pledge.

After eating Zack helped Elizabeth dry her marker off using a portable blow dryer his mother had thoughtfully packed. Terry, Gary, and Jennifer helped each other restock their pods and made sure all the markers were full of CO2 and paint. They rested together until their last match.

The referee’s shirt and pants were covered with paint. “I got in between two fifteen-man teams at the start of their match. I’m one giant bruise.” He moaned.

Zack smiled at him sympathetically.

“The team, Kontact 6, have won all of their matches and if you beat the Zombies now you’ll go on to face them in the final round for the five-thousand dollars in prize money. By the way, Kontact 6 has won the final round the past two years and they won with all five of their guys alive at the end of the match.”

Zack knew their reputation and wondered how long they would survive against such a formidable team.

“Your match is on the main field with the usual bunkers, hides, tree stands, and bridges. The start of the game is a bit unusual. We built a maze with two entrances. One person from each team will work their way to the center of the maze and light off their team’s flare, yours is blue. As soon as you see your flare go off game play begins for that team. You’re not allowed to shoot until your man, or woman, makes it to the center of the maze and lights off their flare.”

“That sounds hard.” said Liz.

“It’s a real challenge and an advantage if your person gets there first. Neither person in the maze is allowed to shoot the other one out until they’re both out of the maze. My advice is to pick the fastest person and send them to the maze. The rest of you should hide as well as you can until you see your flare go off. You’re not allowed to fire until you see your flare. We’re giving the same advice to the Zombies, any questions?” asked the referee.

“Do we have to hide? It seems kind of cowardly.” Terry asked.

“Listen, if you’re caught out in the open, or looking around the woods and don’t see your enemy and their flare goes off, you’re toast.”

“Good point.”

“Oh yea, you can all use the maze after both flares have gone off. It’s a good place to hide and make the enemy come to you. Any other questions Fisher Kings? No? Then you have ten minutes from the time the horn sounds to get into your positions and have someone report to the entrance of the maze marked ‘blue’.”

“So, who do we send? I’m not that good at puzzles.” Terry said.

“This definitely isn’t my strength. I can do a maze, I just can’t run that fast. My leg is aching as it is.” Gary patted his leg and frowned.

“We want the best shooters on the field when that flare goes off right?” Asked Liz. “I’m not the best shooter but I can run pretty fast, I can do a maze. I did three hedge mazes last summer when we went to England. I have a good strategy one of the guides taught me. Jen’s a little faster though.”

“I beat you once in gym class. I think we’re about equal. I’m no good at mazes, trust me.” Jennifer replied.

“Zack you’re the boss.” They all looked to him.

“Ok, I’m no good at mazes, Terry and Gary are great shooters. Liz, you’re our maze girl. Just be careful after you come out because if I were a Zombie I’d have someone cover the entrance to the maze for a quick kill.”

“I won’t let you down guys. Zack can I have that little notebook and pencil you always have? Jen, I need those hair bands.” Elizabeth adjusted her marker’s strap and slung it over her back then had Zack seal her hopper shut with the hair bands. “I don’t want this thing to open while I’m running. What are you going to do, hide or wait in the open?”

“We’re going to hide. We’ll try and cover you when you come out of the maze, ok?” Said Zack.

“Just be ready when the blue flare goes off. Come on, lucky high five!”

They exchanged high fives all around then Liz went to the maze.

“Ok, let’s spread out and hide the best we can. I haven’t seen any Zombies but that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there watching us now.” Zack pulled out his binoculars and scanned the area.

The warning horn sounded.

“I saw a tree stand pretty high up and well hidden. I’m going to get up there.” Gary walked away.

“Come on Jen, I saw a stand of trees we can cover each other from that will still give us a line of sight to the Zombie’s maze entrance. Maybe we can take their guy out when he exits?” Terry and Jennifer moved into their positions.

Zack moved around and tried to find a suitable hiding place and found one next to a pile of logs.

We’re not going to win by playing a hiding game. Time to stir up the hornet’s nest.

Zack ran to where the front line was, paused, then crossed it.

I must be crazy.

The horn sounded.

“Mike, you’re a kaka head! You couldn’t formulate a decent battle plan if I wrote it for you. Oh, guess what? I did write all your battle plans. That’s why your weakest team member is trying to find his way through the maze! My best team member is going to beat yours to the flare and when I find you I’m going to shoot you in the face you kaka head!”

Zack ran through the woods, pumped on adrenaline. He saw Nick hiding behind a log and yelled at him.

“Traitor! Loser! I know where you are Nick!”

Deep in the enemy’s territory Zack ran around the rear of the Zombie’s area. Chris was in a tree stand, Josh was on the ground near him.

“I see you Chris! I see you Josh. That means that James is in the maze. Bad choice Mike! James is dyslexic and couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag!” Zack yelled. He didn’t know if James was dyslexic and hoped he wasn’t. His goal was to simply to rattle his former teammates.

I wonder how Liz is doing in the maze? Come on Liz, we need an advantage.

Elizabeth ran to the end of the hall and put a mark on her notepad.

Two lefts, one right. Lord help me find my way!

The walls of the maze were only two feet wide and she found herself running sideways down the many twists and turns of the maze.

I’m a little short of breath. My inhaler’s in my bag but if I use it I have to remove my mask. A definite no no.

Elizabeth could hear a Zombie running on the other side of her wall, shooting as he went.

Why are they shooting? Two lefts, one right, one sharp left, one long right. Can’t go left again there.

A diagram of the maze took shape in her hand. Her mind worked overtime to eliminate wrong choices.

Oh! They’re marking where they’ve been so they don’t keep going over the same area. Smart! Why didn’t I think of that? Left here, I’m close to the middle now. Jesus, help me figure it out!

Elizabeth looked at her pad as she ran sideways and in a flash of insight took a right turn. The maze opened into a large space with a button marked “Blue Flare” on a table with a cable going to it. She pushed it and a group of six blue flares shot out of a launcher from somewhere outside the maze.

“Woo Hoo! Thank you Jesus!”

Elizabeth looked at her note pad and began retracing her steps to the way out.

Zack looked up and watched the blue flares burn out. He spun on his heel and ran towards the tree stand where Chris was scrambling down to safety.

“Got you pal!” Zack took him out with a shot to his butt.

Zack moved forward to where Nick was and caught him running toward the maze. With two rounds Zack took out two of the Zombies. Red flares blossomed overhead and began falling and fading to earth. A round exploded against the tree next to his head and he dove left into the ground face first. He turned over on his back and fired a burst from where the shots came from in time to see Josh hide behind a tree.

Zack fired more rounds into the edge of the tree to keep Josh pinned down while he pushed himself backwards with his legs.

My fingers are killing me. I can’t keep this up much longer.

Zack’s head hit something solid. He’d backed into a tree. Josh poked his head out and fired at him, nearly hitting his foot. Firing back, Zack pushed his body up backwards against the three until he was standing then spun around the tree to hide.

Where was Mike hiding?

Zack checked to see that no visible threat was behind him, there was. Mike shouted from behind a tree.

“Your team’s going down Zack! I’m a better leader than you’ll ever be.” Mike yelled.

“Is that why you lost to us and two of your guys are down?” Zack hated himself for responding but hoped that Mike would be flustered.

Two shots hit the backside of the three he leaned against.

I’m trapped in the worst possible position. Maybe I should run forward and hope to hit him before one of them takes me out?

“Damn! Mike their sniper got me.” Josh walked off the field. A referee hovered near Zack and Mike, watching.

Thank you Gary!

Zack bolted and ran back towards the maze hoping to regroup with the others and trusting that Gary would pick off Mike if he showed his head.

Terry, Jennifer, and Elizabeth stood near the red maze entrance. Elizabeth made a wheezing sound when she breathed. Zack didn’t like all of them bunched up like that and told them to spread out.

“One burst and we lose.” He said. “Liz, you ok? Great job with the flare. You bought me time to take out two of them.”

“I need to go.” She managed to get out. “I need my inhaler but if I…take off my mask we lose.”

“Ok, Go, Jen cover her.” Zack said.

Elizabeth and Jennifer made their way to the exit. Zack didn’t know if the rules covered asthma attacks.

Will she be out of the game if she leaves now? That will put us a man down. I hope she’s ok.

“Ok Terry, we’ve got one guy in the woods and one guy in the maze, any ideas?”

“I say we let Gary keep the entrance to this maze covered and go hunt the guy in the woods.” Terry crouched low with this weapon and eyes moving over the landscape.

“Sounds good to me. Gary! Cover the Maze!” Zack said. “I lost track of Mike. We’ll have to start from scratch.”

“Fine by me, you go left, I’ll go right.”

Terry and Zack crawled slowly and quietly through the wooded area behind the maze in a flanking position about thirty yards apart. Zack saw movement to his left and fired. It was only a squirrel.

Nervous?

Mike’s head popped up from behind the rock the squirrel jumped onto. Zack fired and hit the rock, Mike returned fire as Zack dodged left.

“Terry!” Zack shouted.

Zack and Terry chased Mike towards the maze. Jennifer was walking back from the entrance to the field and brought up her marker to take out Mike as he ran directly at her. Unfortunately she’d forgotten to remove her barrel sock and Mike shot her out. He ran into the maze.

“Well, he’s not going anywhere. I wonder if James is still in there?” Terry asked.

“Hey Gary, did you shoot out James?” Zack shouted.

At that moment the bell rang and Gary emerged from the woods with James behind him.

“It looks like they shot each other out. Well, we’ve got one cornered but you know what they say about cornered animals. They’re at their most dangerous.” Zack looked at the entrance to the red maze. He heard shooting from inside but didn’t know why Mike would be shooting.

Maybe he thinks one of us is inside, waiting for him.

“You’re taller Terry, come in after me and just know that I’ll always be low, ok?”

“Sounds good to me, you’ll always be low. I wish we had a map.” Terry and Zack made their way into the maze.

Zack was annoyed that the walls were so narrow. Here and there, fresh paint dribbled down the walls. Other paint had dried already.

James must have marked the walls as he figured the maze out. That’s what I would do.

Every footstep on the wooden floor sounded impossibly loud to Zack. He motioned for Terry to remove his shoes. Their footfalls were nearly silent.

My legs are killing me. We’re in the home stretch now. Just a little longer and one of us will take him out.

Suddenly, the sound of loud, running footsteps cut through his thoughts. He heard shots being fired from the other side of the wall and wondered towards which direction Mike was going.

He might be trying to double back on us, didn’t think of that.

Zack’s heart was pounding with adrenaline and fear. If Mike got behind them neither Zack nor Terry would be able to spin around quickly enough to return fire before they were shot out. Zack turned a corner and saw Mike standing up with his mask off and his marker raised, ready to fire.

What the…where’s the ref?

Zack heard Terry round the corner and knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Mike in the face, mask or no mask. Without hesitating Zack jumped up as Terry fired an automatic burst into Zack’s chest.

“Zack get down! Out of the way!” Terry yelled.

“Mask!” Zack shouted.

Terry stopped firing as he saw what Zack meant. Mike raised his marker and calmly shot Terry in the face several times. Then he pulled his mask back on and shoved them both out of the way to make his exit as victor.

“Losers!” He yelled behind him as he ran out.

Zack was furious. “He can’t get away with this. Where are the refs?”

“They ain’t in here! That little…” Terry let loose with a string of foul language that would have made Zack blush if he hadn’t been so infuriated.

“We’re both covered with his paint and he has none of ours on him. Why weren’t the refs inside with us? Even if we complained to them he has evidence on his side.” Zack felt the sting of Terry’s rounds. “I’m going to have a massive bruise there.”

“Sorry buddy, I thought you would be low.” He put an arm around Zack, who had tears in the corner of his eyes and was thankful for his mask. “Zack, winners never cheat and cheaters never win. Trust me. Come on, let’s go. If all else fails we can watch Kontrol 6 wipe the smile off his face.” Terry grabbed Zack by the shoulder and led them out. They got lost once and had to retrace their steps. Just as they found the exit a bell rang.

“There’s our bell.” Terry said with a sigh. “I hate losing.”

As they exited the maze Zack and Terry saw Jennifer and Gary lift Elizabeth on their shoulders. Elizabeth had both arms raised above her head and the spectators outside the mesh netting were clapping and cheering wildly for them.

“I don’t get it, we lost... Oh!” Zack saw Mike stomping, literally stomping off the field and cussing up a storm.

Gary and Jennifer were carrying Elizabeth on their shoulders. “Zack, I shot him as he came running out saying that he’d won! Hey, put me down, I don’t like heights.” Gary and Jennifer put her back down and they stood in a circle while the referees crowded around them, checking them for impacts.

“We won!?” Terry asked.

“I shot him in the…um…down there. I didn’t know where you were because the referee told me that it would be an unfair advantage if I came back into the game with any information. So I just listened as hard as I could and heard someone shooting from the red side of the maze. I waited behind a tree until I saw Mike come out. I didn’t even know Jen and Gary were out of it or how many of you were still in it.” She laughed.

“What’d I tell you man? Winners don’t cheat and cheaters don’t win.” Terry wiped paint off his facemask.

“Who says there is no justice in this world? Hey, we just won our division. I own a brand new marker! So do you.”

Jennifer put an arm around Elizabeth and said, “So Liz, tell us again where you shot Mike?”

Liz turned red.

Zack had been on an emotional roller coaster and was glad that they weren’t allowed to remove their masks. He didn’t want anyone to see he eyes welling up, from joy this time.

Thank you, Go, I won’t forget my promise.

The final round, against Kontact 6, lasted three hundred seconds.

“They were awsome!”

“They’re all marksman.”

“They practice every other day, all year long.”

“I want to be like them!”

“They spell their name wrong, it’s supposed to be C-O-N-T-A-C-T. Why do they spell it with a “K”?”

Jennifer was the only one to actually shoot one of them out and for that she was rightfully proud.

All their parents’ took photos and videos of the ceremony at the end of the day when the medals and trophies were handed out. Mr. Lassonde took lots of pictures of Jennifer and James. The last one he took was of James holding Jennifer on his shoulders with her holding her trophy above her head. Both of them were grinning ear to ear.

Gary’s parents each came over and gave Zack a hug while Gary was talking to someone else. “Thank you so much for letting him play with you Zack. You don’t know how much it means to him.” Zack thought Gary’s mother was going to cry but thankfully, she didn’t.

Terry picked up his prizes and said, “Next year I’m playing on a high school team and I’ll be playing against you. But I had great time and when you get to high school look me up and we can play together again. C’mon man, high-five me.”

Zack high-fived him and felt his hand sting. Zoe left with Terry and his parents to get ice cream. She gave Zack a kiss on the cheek. “You’re almost cool! Keep working on it.”

Of the Zombies, only James came over to congratulate the Fisher Kings.

“You guys played great, really awesome. Mike said you cheated but I know what he’s about. He’s a jerk and I’m not going to be playing with him, ever again.” He said and started to walk away.

“Hey James, Terry’s going to high school next year and I’m not sure about what Gary’s doing. We could use you on our team. That is, if you can stand playing with your sister?” said Zack.

“I might take you up on that. Being a Zombie isn’t what I thought it would be. Hey, do you want to come over to our house sometime? I’ve got this cool idea for a comic book I’ve been sketching out.”

Sabbath

“Zack, are you sure this is what you want to do? This is a significant portion of your savings. I’m not usually one to dissuade you from giving generously to the church, but this is a lot of money.” His father asked him.

“I’m sure Dad. I told God that if I won I’d give my portion of the winnings to the mission’s fund.”

“Really? You didn’t win though. You lost to Contact Lenses or someone didn’t you?”

“Dad, you sound like a lawyer.”

“There’s no need to be insulting Zack.”

“You told me that a promise is a promise and that a man should keep his word, no matter what it costs him.” Zack noticed more gray hairs on his father’s temples and thought about his grandfather. “We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry Dad.”

Mr. Margolis leaned back in his chair and wrote out a check to the church from Zack’s account. “You really are turning into a godly young man. Here, don’t lose it.”

At church, Zack put the check into the offering bag without a second thought.

That morning after the service, Zack and Elizabeth loaded some bibles and puppets into their van for an outreach his parents were involved with. Elizabeth was visiting their church with her family that day.

“Are we going to play more this summer or is this the end of the Fisher Kings?” She asked. “My bruises are turning green now.”

Zack pushed the box of books into the back of their van and slammed the door shut before they could fall out. He leaned against the door and rested his foot on the bumper. Elizabeth did the same.

“Do you want to keep playing as a team? I wasn’t sure if you and Jen were really into it.”

“Yes, of course I do. I like you…playing with you. Plus I’ve got a great marker now.” Elizabeth squinted and put her hand over her forehead. Puffy white clouds dotted the sky.

“You’re a good player.” Zack was uncomfortably aware of how close she was to him. “I like playing with you too.”

“You know I used to be mad at God because I have asthma. It’s the one time he used it a blessing. Do you like to play chess, aren’t you on the chess team?”

“Yes. I love it. Do you want to play on the chess team?” Zack asked.

“I don’t know how to play but I want to learn. Maybe you could teach me over the summer and I could play on the team in the fall?” Elizabeth moved slightly closer to Zack.

“Um…I can teach you how to play chess.” Zack’s heart thudded and his tie felt like a noose around his neck.

Elizabeth moved closer to Zack as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

“Elizabeth, I…”

Zack’s thought was interrupted when Jennifer bounded out from around the van.

 “Hey you two what’s going on? Did you kiss him yet Liz?”

“Jennifer! We’re at church.”

Jennifer laughed. “Oh come on, I’m just teasing. I know you’re saving your first kiss for your wedding night.”

“Jen!” Elizabeth turned red and Zack stifled a giggle.

“Oh don’t be such a prude. I’m starving, come on. Your mom’s ready to go Liz. I don’t want to go to school tomorrow, it’s too hot. Thank God there’s only two more weeks left. Liz, do you always wear dresses to church?  Zack you look like your father all dressed up like that. James wants to know when we’re practicing. Why didn’t you tell me he was on the team? He never tells me anything. Come on, Lizzy Borden let’s get some food.” The two girls left arm in arm.

Elizabeth looked back at Zack and gave him a wonderful smile. He thought he saw her eyes actually sparkle. In an instant Zack realized that his life was going to become much more complicated.

The End