Fat Boy vs. the Cheerleaders by Geoff Herbach Page A

“You’re doing something.”
    I need something to drink, Mr. Rodriguez. I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a pain in the ass.
    Unsweetened iced tea or a glass of water. Nothing with sugar, okay?

CHAPTER 14
    Thanks. That tea hit the spot.
    Okay. When he said, “Oh, no, you’re doing something,” I had to tell Dad something because I didn’t want him to know I was exercising, which I know doesn’t make any sense, except I was worried he’d want to join in. He’d stink up the joint. He’d start and do it for a couple days. Then he’d quit exercising. Then I’d quit and then we’d eat a thousand tacos. And I’d feel hopeless again, which for some reason I didn’t, even though some bad stuff was going on.
    Instead of telling Dad about Project Kill Chunk, I told him about the lack of band camp, about the pop machine. He was almost interested! Like, for twenty seconds, he listened! Dad’s opinion? “You need to write a letter to the editor,” he said. “People in town will be upset if they know what’s happening. Might get some support.”
    Then he ate a couple sandwiches. (Grandpa didn’t cook because our workout got in the way of his cooking schedule.) Then Dad watched Pawn Stars.
    I sat at the table after Dad left. Grandpa cleaned up around me. He asked, “What are you stewing on?”
    â€œDad’s right, right? I should write a letter to the paper.”
    â€œSeems reasonable,” Grandpa said.
    â€œIt does.”
    Generally, I think of Dad as being such a loser. I’d never pay attention to his advice. (Look what he’s done for us so far—chased Mom away, gotten us fat as hell, gotten us an old man to live in our house.) I could complain about bad government and notify the community about the upcoming concert too!
    So instead of watching TV, I went downstairs and sent a message to Ms. Feagan asking her for an example of a good letter to the editor. She sent me a few and wrote I believe I know what you’re upset about and I’m completely on your side, Gabe. Let me know if I can be of further assistance. That made me feel great! So I grabbed my laptop, stretched out on my bed, and wrote a letter, copying the kind of language that was in Ms. Feagan’s examples. I worked so hard on it. I tried to channel my inner Justin Cornell. I tried to sound so balanced and smart and true.
    Yeah, it’s in my email. So is Friesen’s response. Let me pull it up.
    June 11
    Dear Good People of Minnekota:
    Democracy does not function behind closed doors. Democracy only works in the full light of the day when all interested parties are deemed worthy of notification and participation. In the case of the school district’s recent repricing of vending machine items and the subsequent redistribution of vending machine profits, democracy failed.
    Without warning or discussion, the Minnekota Lake Area High School band lost its vending money, the money that funds summer programs. At the same time, Minnekota Lake Area High School cheerleading received said monies for the purposes of creating a new dance team. While I do not argue against the introduction of new programming at the school and would never say that cheerleading is anything but a wonderful and vital aspect of the student extracurricular community, I do argue with the behind-closed-doors process that resulted in this action and the subsequent alcohol-fueled arrest of Mr. Shaver, the band teacher.
    Changes affect real people (Mr. Shaver and the children).
    If changes are to be made, if resources are to be redistributed, as is often necessary, let the changes be brought before the stakeholders and let the community determine what is and what isn’t of value.
    For now, the band is fending for itself (hopefully) by doing a live concert during Spunk River Days, date and time TBA. Be there to support your hometown band like we support the football and