10:45 AM

   Rhonda showed up at Stacy's house promptly. Mrs. Kessler headed out to the family restaurant, and the two girls immediately commenced talking about the usual stuff that girls talk about when they get together. Boys, clothing, make-up, music. After about twenty minutes or so, the girls sat down in the main room.
   "Man, this thing sure doesn't match the decor of the rest of this house," observed Rhonda as she eyed the big grandfather clock.
   "I know, acknowledged Stacy. A distant cousin died a couple of weeks ago, and left it to us in his will. If you ask me, all it does is get in the way. One of the main advantages of living in the modern era is that everything has been downsized, which in turn, gives everyone a little more breathing room. As soon as my dad gets home from his business trip, we're going to get an appraiser to look at it, and see if we might be able to sell it to an antiques dealer."
   The two girls switched on the t.v, and channel surfed for a few minutes, before settling on what appeared to be a made-for-television light comedy, which was perfect for the occasion. Neither of them really felt like getting lost in anything too intellectual at the moment, and besides, Rhonda would probably wind up having to leave before it ended.

11:45 AM

   After about forty minutes, the mindless eye-candy emitting from the screen was now starting to try both girl's patience. Stacy was about to suggest that they change the channel, when Rhonda decided that now would be a good time to bring up a subject she had wanted to discuss yesterday, but just couldn't find the right moment.
   "Stace, can I ask you something personal?"
   Stacy immediately sensed the seriousness in her voice. "Sure, put the television on mute." She turned, and gave her friend her undevided attention. "What's up?"
   "I noticed that you were laughing pretty hard during Carl and Joey's class assignment last Friday."
   The thought of this, instantly brought a smile to her face. "Even if you think those two are a couple of geeks, you've got to admit that that presentation just plain rocked."
   "Well, I will admit it certainly wasn't boring."
   Stacy was now intrigued by Rhonda's somewhat pensive facial expression. It just might've been the first time she had ever seen the usually jovial girl not smiling. "So what is this personal question you wanted to ask?"
   Rhonda paused for about five seconds, and then just blurted it out. "Do you believe in God?"
   Stacy made it a point to look her friend right in the eye. "No." This induced about ten more seconds of akward silence.
   Finally, Rhonda broke the quiet, "I suppose you don't have to elaborate on that if you don't want to." Rhonda picked up the remote control, un-muted the t.v., and resumed watching. After about ten seconds, the blonde sitting next to her decided that she owed her friend a little more of an explanation.
   "Rhon, shut that off," instructed Stacy. She did so. "You know, usually when people who aren't particularly religious are asked that question, they have this tendency to reply with something along the lines of 'well, I don't follow any organized religion, but I do consider myself to be a spiritual being', or 'I don't believe in a monolithic God, I believe in the God that is present in all of us'. She paused for dramatic effect. "I just made a conscious decision not to indulge you with that sort of pretentious bullshit. The fact is, I do not believe there is any kind of superior being watching over us, and if there is, nobody owes him, her, or it, anything." She looked off in a different direction, and muttered half to herself and half out loud. "You reach a certain age in life, and it's time to stop having imaginary friends."
   "Well I do," Rhonda didn't feel like letting the conversation die, just yet. "And I'm thankful for my health, my family and my friends...including you."
   "And what about the people in this world who don't have health, family or friends?
   "Well, I can understand why they wouldn't believe in God. I'm just a little puzzled as to why somebody as blessed as you wouldn't want to believe in him."
   "I'm sure you've heard that famous expression, 'I was sad because I had no shoes, until I saw a man with no feet'?"
   "Of course I've heard that."
   "Well, you really stop and think about it, that just might be the most vile thing anybody has ever said."
   "Why?"
   "I don't know about you, but if I were sad because I had no shoes, and then I saw some guy with no feet, I'd be even sadder. Not only do I have no shoes, but that poor guy has no feet. If I were to feel better after seeing the guy with no feet, it would be the same thing as saying 'thank God he's the one with no feet and not me'. I'm not so selfish to think that for some reason, I'm more worthy of having feet than someone else is. This applies to virtually anything you wish to thank your God for. There are currently millions of people in sub-Saharan Africa who are starving right now, because your God arbitrarily decided to impose a five year drought on them. When you sit around the dinner table and say grace with your family, thanking the Lord for this 'magnificent bounty,' whether you like it or not, what you are essentially saying is, 'Thank God they are the ones who are starving, and not us'."
   "Aren't you at least thankful that you have people who are willing to help you, while you're stuck in that cast?"
   "I don't owe any thanks to God for that, I owe thanks to you. Think about all the people who are incapacitated who don't have anyone to look after them while they're convalescing."
   Rhonda didn't know what to say. She just switched the t.v. back on. She was only giving it half of her attention, however. She knew that she would probably be leaving before the program ended and wasn't really into the story, anyhow. She casually glanced out the window that was near her end of the couch. A lone figure was approaching on a bicycle in the distance. Even from all the way at the end of the block, the loudly colored striped shirt with the white collar made it fairly easy to surmise who it was. In an instant, Rhonda decided that this was too good a coincidence to pass up. She suddenly jumped off of the sofa, and bolted towards the door.
   "Hey, where are you going?" asked Stacy.
   "I'll be right back. I just saw something outside the window that might prove to you that there's a reason for everything."

12:00 Noon

   As Jeff pedaled towards the fairground, he pondered what adventures or misadventures awaited him there. A worst case scenario would be running into Clifford and Gordy and getting double-teamed once again, this time in front of a massive crowd. Then again, perhaps he would run into Greil, Gretchen, Andy and the rest of the Bikers, and at least have a pleasant afternoon, if not a successful one on the romantic end of things. He knew for sure that Carl would be there, and wondered if he managed to find himself some female companionship, other than Linda.
   As he rounded a corner and proceeded down one of the many surrounding residential streets, suddenly, a familiar figure came bolting out of a gray house, waving her hand in the air, attempting to flag him down.
   "Hey Joey! Stop!"
   It was Rhonda. Jeff's immediate assumption was that she must live there. Now what on earth could she possibly want? Although being called "Joey" was always a bit humiliating, the urgency in her voice rendered it even more irritating than usual. As his bike ground to a halt, she scurried up to him.
   "Could you do me a favor?"
   For a moment, he just stared at her inquisatively. Sighing, he finally spoke. "I'm probably going to regret asking this, but what?"
   "My friend has both of her arms in a giant cast, and can't be left alone. I was wondering if you could look after her. It'll only be for another hour or so."
   Jeff was understandably suspicious. "If it's just for an hour, then why can't you stay with this person yourself?"
   "To be honest with you, I think this person'll have alot more fun with you," Rhonda winked.
   Her somewhat cryptic answer did not inspire confidence. His first instinct was to just flip her off and continue peddaling towards the fair. However, the altruistic part of his nature completely overpowered that instict and he agreed to go back in the house with her, and see what she was talking about. He wanted to at least make sure that she wasn't leaving a completely helpless individual alone. He locked his bike to a water pipe that was protruding from the house, and they went inside.

   As soon as they entered the living room, for one brief incredibly akward moment, he and Stacy locked eyes. At least it was akward for her. As Jeff took in the unexpected sight before him, he instantly pieced together what had happened. Common sense would tell anyone that the balance beam is a potentially dangerous aparatus, and he always felt a bit nervous watching any of the girls maneuver on it.
   "So this is what that ambulance was doing at the school last Friday," he observed.
   Stacy was completely befuddled. "Rhonda, what are you doing?" She reached over, managed to grab the remote control off of the couch, and shut the television off.
   Rhonda now had a sly grin on her face. "Since Joey here proved to be so entertaining last Friday, I figured you might have more fun spending the next hour with him instead of me."
   "Jeff." he repeated, although he knew it would be to no avail.
   Stacy was perturbed. "You are kidding, aren't you?"
   "I most certainly am not. I told you, I believe there's a God...And thus, I believe that it's no coincidence that I happened to notice this guy pedaling by while looking out the window just now. Excuse us for a moment." She grabbed Jeff by the arm, and led him outside, just out of Stacy's earshot, and whispered real fast, "Alright kiddo, I saw you comin' and seized the moment. Now it's your turn. Cindy is supposed to be taking over at 1:00, but if you and Stacy decide that that won't be necessary, call my cell. I'm meeting Cin at the carnival, and I'll just let her know that her services will not be required." Rhonda winked again.
   Jeff couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Rhonda, why are you doing this for me?"
   She just smiled, and put her hand on his arm. "Don't get me wrong, Cindy and I still think you're a pretty weird dude, but we don't hate you like Dana does. I've got a sneaking suspicion that the only reason Stacy ignores you, is because she doesn't want to lose Dana as a friend. Now I'm off to the carnival. Remember...Seize the moment!" With that, she ran off towards the fair.
   Needless to say, one cannot even describe all the thoughts that were racing through Jeff's head. For once, fate had dealt him a royal flush. For the next hour, he was literally going to have a captive audience with the girl of his (and everyone else's) dreams, and was desperately trying to think of what would be the best way to make a good impression on her. He re-entered the house to find Stacy still sitting on the couch, just staring off into space, with a beaten expression on her face.
   He decided to open with a wise-crack, "Stace, I'm really sorry that Rhonda has put you in the akward position of having to acknowledge my existence for the next hour." He sat down in a heavily upholstered chair directly facing her. "But I'll do my best to make it a pleasant experience."
   Strangely enough, Stacy still seemed to be avoiding looking directly at him. She just shook her head, leaned back, and seemed to be speaking to the ceiling. "I hate not being the master of my own destiny. All of my short life, I've been a very independant person. By the time I was in the third grade, I was packing my own lunch for school. I am now thirteen, and for the last two days, my mother has had to feed me, clothe me, and wipe me. Add to that alot of sexual frustration and..." Realizing what she had just accidentally blurted out, she suddenly turned her face directly towards Jeff. "Oh shit, I can't believe I just said all that...I'm so embarassed!"
   Think fast Feingold. "Aw, there's no need to be." He now attempted to inject a lighthearted tone into his voice hoping that he would come across as reassuring. "I'm the same age as you, and a guy to boot. To tell you the truth, that was kind of the first thing I thought of when I saw your arms all stretched out like that."
   Stacy sighed. "You're not gonna mention this to any of your friends, are you?"
   Jeff answered with a tinge of melancholy. "Now that's a pretty redundant question. You, of all people, must be at least somewhat aware of the fact that I don't have any friends."
   Once again, the room was filled with an akward silence. After pondering his options for a moment, Jeff took off his cap, placed it on a nearby hatrack, and decided to try his luck with the sensitive guy route.
   "Listen Stace, I'm gonna tell you about something that I had to deal with about a week ago. My mom and dad bought a bunch of tickets to see a production of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake downtown. Now I've gotta be honest with you, I've always hated that sort of stuff. Opera, ballet, classical music in general. Call me uncultured, but that stuff just really does not excite me in any way shape or form. I also hate getting all dressed up in general. You saw me in temple last Thursday, and know that I don't look good in a suit and tie. So my sisters and I get in the car, they haul us down to the Dorothy Chandler Pavillion and we all get seated..."
   Throughout Jeff's story Stacy just continued to stare at him with the same puzzled look on her face. She kept thinking to herself, Where is he going with this? Is he going to attempt to make some sort of allegorical reference to the entrapped swan, and me being stuck in this cast? What's his angle?
   Jeff Continued. "So I'm sitting there watching this thing, and much to my amazement and horror, I somehow wound up getting caught up in it. The music, the way the dancers were telling the story. Before I knew it, I swear I actually started to well up a little, and I really had to fight back tears."
   "And why were you fighting back your tears?"
   "Why?" Jeff retorted, somewhat surprised that she hadn't figured it out. "Because I'm a guy. A guy can't cry over a dying swan ballerina in front of his family. Especially when they aren't crying. My sisters call me enough insulting names as it is, and I don't need to add 'homo' to that list. I get sick enough of the guys in p.e. always calling me that. Anyhow, I managed to excuse myself and go to the restroom to wash my face and compose myself before returning to my seat...twice."
   Stacy took a deep breath. "O.K...So why exactly did you feel the need to share this little episode in your life with me?"
   "Well," Jeff answered, "A couple of minutes ago you just revealed some personal stuff about yourself. You know, about your mother having to wipe you, and about how your having trouble...you know, taking care of your sexual needs...and then you suddenly got all panicky about having said that out loud. To make it even, I thought I'd let you in on a little story about me that could potentially be even more embarassing, should you ever mention it to anybody. I just want to make it very clear that you can feel free to talk about whatever you like with me. Whatever is said in this room, stays in this room."
   Stacy rolled her eyes and shook her head. "That's not really what's gnawing at me. What's bothering me is that everything was going so darn well in my life, and now this has to happen. I was in the school play...I'm not sure if I still am or not. There's an important gymnastics competition comming up...and an important softball game. I was going to have a good time with all my friends at the carnival today." She paused and looked downward. "Instead, I'm stuck here in this house with you."
   These words inspired Jeff to try a different strategy. He stood up, reached for his hat and started towards the door.
   "Wait, where are you going?" Stacy suddenly realized her mistake.
   "Listen," Jeff answered. "I just want to do whatever it is that's going to make you feel better. There's really not alot I can do about you being stuck in that cast, but I can at least remedy the part about being stuck here with me." With that, he exited the room.
   Stacy quickly bolted up from the couch. "Wait a minute Joey...!" In her haste, she briefly forgot that her arms were in a permanently outstretched position, forgetting to turn sideways as she approached the narrow door. her arms hit the walls on either side of it, knocking her flat on her back. This was the beginning of a rapid succession of events that would drastically reshape both of their destinies. For a brief moment she laid there, looking up at the ceiling mentally processing what had just happened.
   As she was about to regain her composure, she felt a slight movement all around her. As a native Californian, she immediately knew what was happening. An earthquake was starting to build. All of a sudden the slight movement amplified into a violent shaking that caused the whole house to rock back and forth. Both books and dishes began falling from shelves. Glancing over to her right, she saw a potential catastrophe about to unfold. That massive grandfather clock was now beginning to tip in her direction. With only a split second to react, she managed to use her legs to scoot her body right up next to the massive timepiece just as it began to topple. It hit the ground with a massive thud, but because she was right next to it, she wasn't injured...just trapped underneath it. Finally the violent shaking, which must have went on for a good fifteen seconds, began to subside.

   Outside the house, Jeff was in the process of unlocking his bike when the earthquake hit. His first instinct was to step away from the structure, to avoid a potential collapse of the front porch awning. He eyed the house carefully as the ground shook, now feeling extremely guilty about leaving Stacy in such a vulnerable position. There was a slightly open window from which he could hear the sound of books falling and dishes breaking, and finally a large thump, just before the shaking stopped. When everything had finally settled, he could hear Stacy's shreak loud and clear.
   "Joey!!! Help, I can't move!!!"
   First Jeff zoomed towards the door, which unfortunately had locked itself when he slammed it shut. As Stacy continued to scream, he headed for the open window, and pulled himself up just enough to see what was going on inside. Although he was never a strong athlete, upon seeing the girl trapped underneath the fallen clock, his adrenaline gland instantly shifted into overdrive. He somehow managed to shove the window all the way open and heave his clumsy body through it. Now trembling, he grabbed the bottom of the enormous clock, and with all the strength he could gather, began to lift it. It must've weighed at least three hundred pounds. Once it was about two inches above her, he gritted his teeth and began to push as hard as he could on the massive object, it's head making a scraping noise on the floor as he did. Once he was sure that she was cleared of it, he just dropped it, not caring whether or not it left a giant dent in the wooden floor.
   "Should I call a doctor?"
   Still reeling from her ordeal, she shook her head. "No, it didn't injure me at all, it just pinned me to the floor."
   As he helped her back on to the sofa, the phone rang. Jeff quickly grabbed it, and held it up to Stacy's ear and mouth.
   "Hello."
   "Stacy, are you alright?"
   "Yeah, mom. I'm fine, but unfortunately I can't say the same for the house."
   "What does it look like?"
   "Exactly what you'd expect it to look like under the circumstances. I don't think there was any structural damage, but there are books, vases and dishes all over the floor, and that big grandfather clock fell over."
   "I'll deal with all that when I get home. We're insured. The main thing is that you and Rhonda aren't hurt."
   "No, we're fine. I take it the restaurant must look like a complete mess."
   "You can imagine. Besides all the broken dishes in the kitchen, a couple of those large framed pictures fell off of the wall. Thank goodness none of them injured any of the customers."
   "Alright, then I'll see you at around five o'clock."
   "Yes dear. You two keep safe and be careful not to step on any broken glass."
   "We will. Bye."
   With that, Jeff hung up the phone, and plopped back down in the chair directly facing Stacy, propping his feet up on the fallen clock. For about thirty seconds the two of them just stared at each other in silence as their eyes began to water, each for a different reason. Finally, he leaned forward in the chair and began to speak firmly through tear filled eyes, as he peered directly into hers.
   "My name is Jeff!" he declaed in an almost defiant tone. "It's not Joey...or Johnny or Jimmy or Jerry, it's Jeff!..Why you and the rest of the human race can't seem to remember that will always bewilder me." He repeated himself once again, this time, in a slightly softer tone. "My name is Jeff...And I know where I stand."
   Realizing that this was about to turn into a lengthy monologue, he settled back into the chair. "I know my station in life. There are some people who are real smart, some who are very athletic, and some who are good looking. You, are all of the above, and I am none of the above." Jeff continued in a slow and slightly sarcastic manner. "I know that girls like hanging out with big strong guys who they feel can protect them from harm. And I know that that certainly isn't me. I've seen you play softball, and I've seen you on the uneven parralel bars. Hell, if you weren't in that cast right now, you could probably beat the crap out of me."
   "Jeff, I..." Stacy started to interrupt.
   "Just let me finish." He continued. "I'm a very empathetic person. I'm looking at you right now, and seriously thinking about what it must be like when you have to scratch an itch. Or blow your nose. Or roll over in your sleep. But compare your situation to mine for a moment. How long are you going to have to wear that thing?"
   "A week" was her soft reply.
   "O.K. In a week from now, you're going to be back in school, resuming your life as a very popular individual. I, on the other hand, will also be returning to school in a week and resuming my life as a punching bag. Now I don't blame you for looking down your nose at me. I realize that I'm not the same quality of human specimen that you are. As a matter of fact, just about the only thing I've got going for me is an extremely keen sense of self awareness regarding the fact that I have nothing going for me. I may not have brains, braun, or looks, but I do still have my dignity, and believe me, at this point even that is pretty darn precarious. I'll make you a deal. For the next hour we will show each other some mutual respect. Then, in a week from now, when we're back in school, you can resume your usual regiment of ignoring me, and we'll just pretend that today never happened." He gestured towards the front door. "Walking out of that door and leaving you here to fend for yourself with your arms like that, would violate every thing I stand for morally...But I swear, if you call me 'Joey' once more, you're gonna leave me no choice."
   Once again, there was a brief, akward silence. Finally Stacy began speaking softly.
   "Are you through? Can I respond?"
   Jeff nodded.
   Taking a deep breath, she began her long mea culpa. "First of all, I genuinely wish to thank you for finally straightening out this whole issue of your first name. After a week of listening to Cindy calling you 'Jackie,' Dana calling you 'Jimmy,' Rhonda calling you 'Joey,' and Mrs. Pickering never calling you anything but 'Mr. Feingold,' I swear, I didn't have a clue..."
   Jeff interrupted, "Well all you had to do was..."
   "Please!!" Stacy screamed at the top of her lungs. Her tears were now flowing like rain. "I have so much I want to say to you...Please just let me get all of my thoughts out!"
   Spotting a nearby box of tissues, he took one out, proceeded to dab her cheeks, and then his own. She resumed her speech, stopping to sniff every now and then.
   "Five minutes ago, when I said that I was angry that I was stuck here with you, what I really meant is that I'm angry that I'm stuck here...period. You just happened to be sitting in that chair, so I tagged 'with you' on to the end of it. If Rhonda had still been sitting there, I swear I would've said the same thing. The moment those words left my big mouth, I realized how awful they sounded and I was running after you to apologize when I was...rudely interrupted by the San Andreas fault."
   "But that doesn't explain..."
   "Please!" Stacy continued. "This is my first year at this school. Last year I went to Harrison middle school. We just moved into this house over the summer, so now I'm in this district. When I first got here, the only two people I really knew were Dana and Sol, because we all went to the same hebrew school. Now believe me, I'm usually not the type of person who only hangs out with a single small clique of friends, but Cindy and Rhonda are really the only two people Dana has formally introduced me to...so far."
   As more tears rolled down her cheeks, Jeff responded with more tissues. She continued.
   "Let me tell you, as people, the three of them have their pros and cons. What I like most about them is that with the possible exception of Dana, they come from good homes and aren't dangerous. I mean, none of them are into drugs, shoplifting, vandalism or anything like that. That's important to me. I knew alot of people at my old school who were."
   "There isn't a whole lot of that kind of stuff going on at this school in general," Jeff interjected softly.
   Stacy looked down. "Even though I've only known them for about a month, I'm finding that I have alot more in common with Cindy and Rhonda than I do with Dana. Her cattiness really gets on my nerves sometimes. Always yacking about 'who's cool and who isn't'."
   Jeff sighed, "Needless to say, you're telling me nothing new."
   She looked back up at him. "Jeff, you've got to tell me...have you ever done anything really awful?...Or at least extremely embarassing?"
   Jeff thought for a moment, "I suppose that depends on one's definition of the words 'awful' and 'embarassing'."
   She continued, "I mean, did you ever kill somebody's pet...or pee in your pants in class or something?"
   "That would be a double negative," He answered somewhat puzzled. "Why would you ask that?"
   Stacy took another deep breath. "Because the kind of hostility that everyone seems to feel for you, is usually reserved for serial axe murderers. I mean, this goes beyond mere unpopularity. For the life of me, I can't figure out what it is about you that would inspire this sort of animosity."
   "I already told you," he sank back further in the chair and counted on his fingers. "A: I'm stupid, B: I'm clumsy and C: I'm ugly. It's one thing to be cursed with one or two of those traits, but the whole trifecta adds up to a major case of cooties."
   "Now here this," Stacy commanded. A: If what you did in class last Friday is any indication, you are a fuckin' genius. B: You just lifted a three hundred and fifty pound grandfather clock off of me, and shoved it half-way across the room." She paused for a moment. "And C: I think you're pretty darn cute." A hint of a smile finally started to show itself through her tears. "You'll just have to take my word for that last one."
   Jeff struggled veinly to supress a half smile. "That would be quite a leap of faith. You're definitely a minority of one." Slightly embarassed, he glanced out the window.
   She gritted her teeth. "Alright, you look at me, Jeff Feingold."
   He immediately turned towards her, and they're eyes locked, once again.
   Stacy continued, "I've got some very important things to say right now, and I want to look you right in the eye when I say them."
   Jeff was transfixed.
   "For the last month, you have been saying hello to me every day. And for the last month I have been saying absolutely nothing to you in return. I am now going to give you an explanation, and believe me it's a pretty damn lame one. Because I didn't know you, I wasn't sure whether or not what Dana and half the 8th grade was saying about you really held any water...At the same time, I also never saw or heard you do anything that would inspire that sort of hatred. Not being sure whether to believe them, or what I was seeing and hearing, I decided to take the coward's way out. So instead of either saying 'Hello' back to you, or 'Buzz off' like Dana, I decided to just not say anything." She took another deep breath. "I now realize that what I was doing was even worse than saying 'Buzz off'. To not acknowledge someone's humanity at all, is about as low as it gets." Once again, her tears started to fall. "Jeff Feingold, I hope you will believe me when I say that at this moment, I am very ashamed of myself. If our positions were reversed, and you were in a cast, and someone had tried to pull me in off of the street to care for you..." She sniffed, "I'm sure I would've just told them to 'buzz off.' You not only came in here, but you tried to cheer me up with that story about Swan Lake...and in return, I insulted you. You're a much better person than I could ever hope to be."
   By this time, Jeff had started crying again as well.
   "In short, I'm very sorry for the way I've behaved, and I hope you'll give me a chance to redeem myself. One thing is for certain. A week from now, when this cast is off and I'm back in school, I want you to sit right next to me during lunch...And I don't give a rat's ass what anyone else has to say about it. From this moment on, anyone who isn't a friend of Jeff Feingold's, isn't a friend of mine."
   Jeff smiled broadly through his tears, and tried to speak in his usual droll manner. "Well, now that we've got all that straightened out, is there anything I can do for you?"
   "Yeah. You can give me a hug."
   Jeff got out of the chair and walked around to the back of the sofa, and put his arms around her from behind.    "Uh, Jeff..." Obviously this wasn't satisfactory.
   "Yeah?"
   "I can't really feel anything. You're just hugging the cast. Sit next to me on the couch."
   Jeff obeyed.
   "Now put your arms around my waist, and lay your head on my heart."
   Once again, he complied.
   "I really want to talk for awhile and get to know you better, but first, I think we both need to take a few minutes to just sit here and finish crying."
   Jeff didn't say anything. He just held her a little tighter.
   She finished, "You have no idea how frustrating it is, not to be able to hug you back right now." Stacy laid her head on his, and they both sat in silence for a spell.

12:30 PM

   Stacy's cellphone rang. Jeff immediately grabbed it, flipped it open, and held it up to her face.
   "Hello?"
   "Stace, it's me," came Rhonda's familiar voice over the receiver. She was calling from the carnival. "You're gonna laugh when I tell you what's going on over here."
   "What happened?"
   "Apparently that big double ferris wheel contains a mechanism that automatically shuts it off when there's a big earthquake. The carnys are having a bit of difficulty getting it to restart. Dana and Cindy have been stuck at the top of it for nearly twenty minutes now," Rhonda chuckled. "They are so pissed."
   A big grin began to spread across Stacy's face. "I hope they brought an adequate supply of sunscreen with them."
   "They do have their cellphones with them...which brings me to the $1,000 question. I need to know if I should tell Cindy whether or not she needs to keep her appointment with you in half an hour. Are you and Joey hitting it off?"
   "His name is Jeff!" Stacy declared loudly.
   There was a slight pause. "I believe that answers that question," Rhonda had a smile in her voice.
   "Hold on a second," Stacy turned to Jeff. "By any chance, would you mind staying here for another four and a half hours?"
   Jeff didn't have to think about this. "I'll stay here for the next four and a half years, if you'd like."
   Stacy spoke into the phone, "You can inform Cindy and Dana that their services will no longer be required today."
   "Alright," Rhonda answered. "Here's the other $1,000 question...should I tell them the reason they've been relieved of their duties, or make something up?"
   Stacy thought about this for a few seconds. "You know what? I'm going to leave that entirely to your discression."    "One last thing..." Rhonda had a parting shot.
   "What's that?" asked Stacy.
   "Take my advice and disregard whatever Dana and half the 8th grade thinks. I've got a really good feeling about this."
   "Yeah, me too. I owe you big time Rhon. Have fun at the Carnival."
   Jeff closed the cellphone and put it down. "So what was that all about?"
   "Jeff, you're gonna love this. That big ferris wheel at the fair comes equipped with a mechanism that automatically shuts it down in the event of an earthquake. It worked, but unfortunately they haven't been able to get the thing started again. Dana and Cindy have been stuck at the top for twenty minutes now."
   A broad smile now appeared on Jeff's face. "Thank goodness the thing didn't tip over. I'm sure there must be alot of other people on it who could've gotten hurt."
   "Oh, you're so silly."
   Jeff once again sat down in the armchair facing Stacy, with a leg draped over one of the chair's arms.
   "So," she began. "What exactly was it that inspired your rant?"
   "What rant are you talking about?"
   "I'm talking about that incredible stunt you pulled in sociology on Friday...which by the way, was brilliant."
   Jeff thought about it for a moment, then spoke in a serious manner. "That was largely inspired by you."
   "Me?"
   "I figured out that organized religion was a load of crap a long time ago. When I said hello to you in temple last Thursday, and you blew me off, it was really the last straw. It's one thing to do that in the halls at school, but in a synagogue, the effect was downright stupefying. I got the hell out of there, and I'm never going back. Ever."
   Stacy looked down. "Yeah, when I got back to my seat, I noticed that you were no longer in yours."
   "I'm amazed that you noticed I was there in the first place. Did you also notice Dana perpetually flipping me off during the service?"
   "I'm glad you brought that up. Jeff, do you and Dana have some sort of history that I'm not aware of?"
   He thought about this for a moment, then shook his head. "I've known her since the 4th grade. Back in elementary school, I don't really remember being particularly friendly or hostile with her. She was just another kid in the class. It wasn't until we hit the 7th grade that for some reason, she suddenly decided I was doofus incarnate."
   Stacy was puzzled. "Jeff, how on earth can someone who's known you for over four years, possibly not know your first name?"
   "Now that, I can easily explain. I'm not even sure why, but since the very first day I ever set foot in a public school, just about everybody has always called me Feingold. It's a bit like constantly being addressed by a marine drill sergeant. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if half of the people I've ever known actually think Feingold is my first name."
   "Jeff there's something else I'd like to ask you about, regarding your presentation in sociology." Stacy now had a slightly cautious tone to her voice.
   "What's that?"
   She paused. "What exactly do you really know about Dana's mother?"
   He thought about this for a moment. "Actually, not a whole lot. I vaguely remember meeting her at a school open house, once. Whenever she'd meet some other parent, the first thing she always asked was 'What line of work are you in?' and 'Does it pay well?'. The woman seemed to be obsessed with what everybody else's household income was."
   "Yeah," muttered Stacy. "That's her alright."
   Jeff's expression turned curious. "Do you know something about her that I don't?"
   Stacy didn't feel like getting into that at the moment. "You know what? Let's change the subject. What about Cindy and Rhonda? Have you known them since the fourth grade too?"
   "Naw, they went to a different grammar school. I've only known them since last year. So they never even knew me back when I was considered a regular kid. Only as the doofus of Faircrest middle school."
   "So, when was your bar mitzvah?"
   "Last June. Needless to say, I only went through with it because my dad said it 'wouldn't look good' if I didn't."
   "How 'bout that. You and I are exactly the same age." Stacy was now trying to get him to smile again. "I take it the two girls sitting next to you at Sol's bar mitzvah were your sisters."
   He nodded. "Marcie's three years older than me and Aggie's a couple of years younger."
   "I'm an only child," lamented Stacy. "I've often wondered what it's like to have sisters. Do you get along with yours o.k.?"
   Jeff looked down. "They're both honor students."
   "You say that as if it's a bad thing."
   He looked up again, this time with an even more pensive expression on his face. "When you're an underachiever, your parents never let you forget it. When you're an underachiever with siblings who are overachievers, they really never let you forget it." Now Jeff decided to change the subject to something a little more upbeat. "You know, for the last ten minutes, it's all been about me. Can we talk about you for awhile?"
   "Sure. What would you like to know?"
   "What's it like to be perfect?"
   "You know that's a ridiculous question..."
   "And you know it isn't." he cut her off. "Don't be so modest. I've seen you in class, in the gym and on the baseball diamond. Could there possibly be anything you're not good at?"
   "Well, I did try taking flute lessons once. Complete waste of time."
   "Alright, let me ask you this. How do you sit there and listen to Mrs. Pickering pontificate in that monotone of her's without falling asleep? I sure haven't figured out how to do that."
   Stacy grinned slyly. "Oh, you'd be able to stay focused on her if you weren't so distracted by the back of my head...at least Dana tells me you're distracted by the back of my head...and her's, and Cindy's and Rhonda's." She winked at him.
   This managed to coax a smile out of him.
   "I'm not even going to attempt to deny that, nor am I going to apologize for it."
   "Nor should you have to. There's no shame in being a heterosexual."
   Jeff paused. "Can I ask you a similar question?"
   "Yeah."
   "How the hell can you sit still and listen to Rabbi Gurvitz drone on like he does? To me, it's like listening to a Chinese water torture."
   "Him I don't listen to at all. I just zone out." Stacy sat up a little straighter. "This is where you and I are really on the same page. I completely faked my way through my bat mitzvah. I can't tell the difference between a cantor chanting kol nidre and a coyote bayin' at the moon. Furthermore, I stopped believing in a higher power at least five natural disasters ago."
   By now Jeff had really perked up. "Well, it's good to know that at least one person in Sociology wasn't offended by my oratorial barrage last Friday."
   "Offended? Hell, suddenly I'm not feeling so bad about treating you the way I have over the past few weeks. If it was mainly what inspired that kind of creativity, then at least my behavior served some sort of purpose." She paused. "You know, there's something else I've been wondering about."
   "What's that?"
   "When you were hollering in Dana's face, I was sitting right next to her. I thought for sure that at some point, you were going to move to your right and give it to me next. Why didn't you?"
   "Frankly, because your locker is right next to mine, and it was already difficult enough dealing with you giving me the silent treatment. I didn't want to add yet another person to the list of luminaries who greet me with a raised middle finger every morning."

1:00 PM

   My dad has a huge collection of DVDs. Wanna watch one?"
   "Are you thinking of one in particular?"
   "No, I think anything that the two of us haven't already seen will do. Even if it stinks, I'm sure you'll have some entertaining witicisms to shout at the screen. Would you please help me up."
   Jeff did so, and the two of them were off to Mr. Kessler's Video library to make a selection.

   The film that the two of them had wound up viewing turned out to be an odd choice. It was the old Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers vehicle Follow The Fleet. Stacy was an admirer of their dancing, and this was the one Fred & Ginger movie she hadn't seen yet. Jeff was somewhat of a fan of nostalgic cable channels, and enjoyed watching many t.v. sitcoms of the 1950s. He was completely unfamiliar with anything that Lucille Ball and Harriet Nelson did prior to becomming popular television personalities, so when Stacy pointed out that they were both featured in the film, it piqued his curiosity.
   They watched for about a half hour, before Jeff felt compelled to comment. "Am I to understand that this big obnoxious boor is supposed to be a protagonist?," he asked, pointing at Randolph Scott.
   Stacy grinned. "You know, it's hard to believe that there was a time when women actually found that sort of look and behaviour attractive."
   "I don't understand what it is that Ozzy Nelson's wife sees in him."
   "This is what Dana and I were talking about in sociology. The dialogue from all these old films is completely unbearable. However, as a gymnast, I really admire Fred and Ginger's moves."
   Jeff picked up the remote control, and looked at the box the DVD came in. "You know, we could just skip over all this chatter and go right to the chapters that feature some dancing."
   "Sounds like a pretty good strategy to me."
   Jeff picked up the remote control, and accidentally hit the off button instead of the chapter changer, causing the screen to switch to what was on television...which just happened to be a women's gymnastics competition. "Oops. I'm sorry, I'll fix that."
   "No wait!" interrupted Stacy. "I forgot this was on today, and I really wanted to watch it. You don't mind, do you?"
   "Of course not," mused Jeff. "Why would any guy complain about watching a bunch of buff babes in leotards? You know, there's a certain amount of kismet in this. If you had been able to go to the carnival, you would've completely missed this."
   "If I had been able to go to the carnival, we'd both be there right now, and I'd still be ignoring you like an asshole. I'm a happy camper. Could I trouble you to pour me a glass of water?"
   "Coitainly." Jeff went into the kitchen. It took him a few seconds to locate a glass that hadn't gotten broken in the eqrthquake. He returned a half minute later with a glass of water and a straw. Stacy periodically sipped at it over the next half hour.
   One of the girls on the television had just finished a particularly spectacular floor routine, which inspired Jeff to speak up once again. "Can I ask you something?"
   "You don't have to ask if you can ask me something. Just ask."
   "What does it feel like to do that?"
   "To do what?"
   "What that girl just did" Jeff said, pointing at the television.
   "Actually, I can't do about two thirds of what she just did. I'm still what most people would consider to be a novice."
   "Well you sure don't look like a novice to me. I just can't help wondering what it must be like to be that coordinated. I can't even hit a baseball."
   "As soon as I get out of this thing, remind me to show you how. I'll have you whackin' 'em out of the ballpark in no time."
   Just then, a girl on the television screen fell off the balance beam. Jeff stiffened up at the sight of it, but astonishingly, Stacy seemed completely unphased.
   "Doesn't seeing something like that make you cringe, considering your situation?"
   "No. As a matter of fact, in a couple of weeks, I expect to be right back up on that beam. Next time I'll remember to put a little more chalk on my hands." Stacy's resolve was both inspiring and a bit scary. "I'm one of those people who likes a good physical challenge."
   "Well, living in that cast for a week certainly fits the bill."
   "Oh yeah. Not just physically, but psychologically." Stacy turned and looked at him. "Jeff, I've been dreading this inevitable moment all day, but there's something I need to tell you."
   "Uh oh, this doesn't sound good. What is it?"
   Stacy paused for a moment. "I've gotta pee...Real bad."
   Alright, Jeff thought to himself. Here's yet another chance to demonstrate what an easy-going all around good egg you are. Don't blow it. He stood up, and reached out his arms to help her up. "Whaddya say we be mature about this?"
   Stacy nodded, and the two of them made their way to the bathroom. Because the toilet was in the corner, and her arms were stuck in an outstretched manner, she had to sit on it diagonally. Jeff crouched down and did everything he could to unzip and unbutton her jeans in as unobtrusive a manner as possible. He wasn't sure whether or not it would be better etiquette to leave the room while she was peeing or just stand there and wait until she finished. As it turned out, he didn't have to make that decision. The instant he pulled down her jeans and underwear, she sat down and started to pee. She must've had to go really bad. Jeff decided that it might quell the strangeness of the moment if he were to joke about how strange it was.
   "Alright, I'll admit this is akward. Would it be more appropriate for me to continue discussing the pros and cons of the balance beam routine we just witnessed, or just stand here and keep my mouth shut?"
   Stacy was understandably chagrinned. "Hang on, I'm just about done." After about ten more seconds, Stacy stood up. "Alright."
   Jeff reached down to pull her pants back up.
   "Uh, Jeff..."
   "Yeah?"
   "There's something else you've gotta do."
   "What's that?"
   "Grab a wad of toilet paper."
   "Why? All you did was pee."
   Stacy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Jeff, girls wipe after they urinate."
   As he tore off a few sheets of toilet paper, he tried once again to lighten the moment. "I want you to know that I really appreciate you teaching me stuff about baseball and feminine hygiene." She chuckled a little. "Um, I'm sorry, does that tickle?"
   "No," she shook her head in amusement at the absurdity of the situation. "Do you realize that we've really only known each other for a few hours, and we're already doing something that most people who have been married for sixty years will probably never do?"
   "Well, I guess...That is, unless one of them developes alzheimer's or something..."
   "Will you pull up my pants and flush the toilet already?" Stacy was now grinning.
   "Gotcha."
   Jeff washed up, and the two of them made their way back to the couch. Now there was absolutely no doubt in Stacy's mind that everything Dana or anybody else had ever said about Jeff was absolute nonsense. Any guy who had the ability to make a girl feel at ease under these circumstances had to be a special person. From this moment on, she would consider him to be her most trusted friend.

5:00 PM

   As the afternoon wore on, the two of them came to know each other well enough to stop talking about themselves and start talking more about normal things like favorite movies, television programs and music. Jeff also decided it would be a good idea to clean up as much of the mess that the earthquake left as possible, even though Stacy said it wasn't necessary. He thought it would make a good impression on her mother, and he was right. At 5:15, the front door opened, and Mrs. Kessler walked in with a bag full of groceries, to find her daughter and her new friend sitting on the couch. The t.v. was on, and they were still using the fallen grandfather clock as a footrest, because it was simply too heavy to lift. Jeff immediately stood up like a gentleman.
   "Hello..?" While the woman was a bit surprised to see a boy she didn't know instead of Dana, she was even more surprised to see her daughter with a big smile on her face.
   "Hi mom. This is my friend Jeff Feingold. He stopped by to say hello, and decided to stay. I called the girls and told them they could all stay at the carnival if they wanted."
   "Hi" Jeff said. "Can I help you carry those?"
   "I was wondering who's bike that was outside." She handed the bag over to him. "By any chance would you be Sharon Feingold's son?"
   "Guilty as charged." Jeff carried the groceries into the kitchen and came back. "You know my folks?"
   "Not that well, but I do recall talking to them at the last P.T.A. meeting."
   "Alot of the dishes and glasses got broken," Stacy interjected. "Jeff cleaned up most of the mess."
   "I'd still be careful when walking in the kitchen," Jeff suggested. "I might've missed a shard or two."
   "Oh dear," Mrs. Kessler said, eyeing the fallen clock. "I guess we'll have to wait till your father gets home before we move this."
   "Meanwhile, it makes a good footrest." Stacy smiled.
   Her mother absolutely could not believe how Stacy's mood had changed since the morning. "Jeff, will you be staying for dinner?"
   "Thank you very much, but tonight is my mother's birthday, and my family wants me home to watch her blow out the candles."
   "Well thank you for cleaning up the house and taking care of my daughter. Perhaps you can have dinner with us some other time."
   "He definitely will be," insisted Stacy. "Jeff, let me walk you outside."
   "It was nice meeting you Mrs. Kessler."
   "The pleasure was mine, Jeff."
   The two of them walked outside and were greeted by a beautiful sunset. Jeff unlocked his bike. "Well, I'm glad that daylight savings time doesn't end until this evening. This way I don't have to peddle home in the dark."
   Stacy wasted no time. "Jeff, give me another hug." He put his arms around her waste and she kissed his cheek. "You have no idea how frustrating it is for me to not be able to hug you back."
   "You'll be able to in a week. Believe me, I'll still be around." He winked at her and peddled off into the sunset.

7:00 PM

   Stacy and her mother had a nice dinner in as normal a manner as possible under the circumstances. The conversation mostly revolved around the restaurant's earthquake damage, and her father's return from northern California in a few days. Afterwords, the two of them watched a little television, and Mrs. Kessler gave her a bath. After toweling her off and getting her into a nightgown, with specially cut armholes to accomodate the cast, she decided it was time for a discussion of a more personal nature.
   "Stacy, there's something I need to talk about with you."
   She could tell by the slightly more serious tone of her mother's voice, that it wasn't just going to be more idle banter about the earthquake. "Yes, mom?" The two of them sat down on Stacy's bed.
   "First of all, I'm so happy that you're obviously feeling alot better than you were this morning."
   "Yeah, well Jeff put me in a good mood. He's really a great guy."
   "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."
   "Mom, I hope you're not gonna give me a lecture about how it isn't a good idea to be alone in the house with a boy when I'm in a vulnerable position like this..."
   "No, not at all." She cut her off. "I have complete faith in your judgement of character. If you say that he's a great guy, then I'm sure he is. That was my first impression of him too. Unfortunately, not everybody shares that sentiment."
   Stacy now looked concerned. "What are you talking about?"
   "Listen Stacy, like I mentioned before, I kind of know Jeff's parents. Not real well. I've only met them a couple of times. Once at the temple and once at a P.T.A. meeting."
   "Is there something wrong with them?"
   "No, they seem like very nice people." She sighed. "But..."
   "But what?"
   "I hope it doesn't get you too upset..."
   "What is it already?"
   "Well, there's a good chance that Jeff might not be going to Faircrest middle school after this semester."
   "Why not!?" Stacy was now starting to get angry.
   "I hate having to tell you this, but his parents are seriously thinking about putting him in a private school for special needs kids. They seem to think he's..."
   "Slow?"
   Mrs. Kessler sighed. "I'm afraid they weren't quite as polite as you. I believe the word they used was 'dimwitted'."
   Stacy flew into a rage upon hearing this. "That's not true! He's just distracted by his own lonliness! I want to talk to them right now!"
   "Calm down," her mother saw this comming. "It's ten o'clock. You can't go phoning people up at this hour. It's not polite. If you'd like, at some point tomorrow, you can give them a call and let them know how you feel. If I might make a suggestion, you'd be alot better off just talking about what a good helpful person he is, as opposed to how 'wrong they are' about him. Parents don't like being mouthed off to by their kid's friends."
   "Alright." Stacy knew her mom was right. "I hope you let them know that at the next P.T.A. meeting as well."
   "I will. Can I ask you one more question?"
   "Sure."
   "If Jeff is such a great guy, how come you've never mentioned anything about him to me before?"
   "To tell you the truth, up until today, he was just some guy that's in a couple of my classes at school. It was only this afternoon that I got to know him real well."
   "I'm not too pleased with Rhonda for leaving you with 'just some guy that's in a couple of your classes', but I'm glad everything worked out. Now try to get some sleep." She pulled the covers over her daughter, kissed her forehead and shut out the light.