Rooster by Don Trembath

For a moment there he had forgotten about his headache, but it was back in full force. He thought about the throb in his head and how black and calm everything went when his eyes were shut. He thought about Andy Gilmore’s bleeding nose and was glad he wasn’t bleeding at least. Andy had gone through almost an entire box of Kleenex after Elma had hit him with that ball. Poor old Andy.
    Rooster’s heart stopped. His eyes sprang open.
    â€œIt’s not Elma, is it?”
    Mrs. Helmsley smiled. “As a matter of fact, it is.”
    â€œAre you joking?”
    â€œI knew you’d be excited. And I wish I knew what was taking her so long. She probably got hung up at her newspaper committee meeting, or the teacher who runs the chess club wanted to see her for a moment. It’s not that she’s outside having a cigarette and failed to hear the announcement.”
    â€œWhy Elma?”
    â€œBecause she has tremendous leadership and organizational skills, that’s why. Those are the two attributes Mrs. Yuler was looking for most. She wants the Strikers ready to compete for a berth in the Special Olympics qualifying round at the end of the month, and she sees no chance of that happening if it’s just you in charge.”
    â€œSo why doesn’t Elma do it all then?”
    â€œBecause Elma does not need another opportunity to prove herself. She’s done enough already. She could start university tomorrow and she wouldn’t miss a beat.”
    â€œOkay, so why don’t you send her to university tomorrow and I’ll do this on my own?”
    Mrs. Helmsley took a deep breath. “University is out for the summer. And you can’t be trusted on your own, remember?”
    Rooster sighed quietly and rubbed his head. The door of Mrs. Helmsley’s office opened. In walked Elma, wearing a black T-shirt and dark blue jeans. She looked first at him and grimaced.
    â€œClose the door, please,” said Mrs. Helmsley.
    â€œSorry I’m late,” said Elma. “I was at first-aid training.”
    â€œI forgot all about that,” said her mom. “Don’t worry, we won’t be long here. I want you two to set up a time and a place to get together and lay out a strategy. We can meet here again next Friday and you can tell me how it’s going. I’ll probably know by then anyway, but we may as well make it official. Any questions? Good. Thank you, Elma, for taking this on in spite of your heavy schedule. Rooster, I expect you to pick up the pace and be the leader with this before too long.”
    Sitting beside him, Elma snorted. “That’ll be the day,” she said.
    â€œGet along, you two,” said Mrs. Helmsley, her tone dropping to a threatening level. “I will not tolerate any reports of you two fighting or disrupting the bowling sessions. Nor will I accept anything less than what Mrs. Yuler has asked for. The Strikers are going to be an organized and respectful team of bowlers, and they are going to be ready to join the Special Olympics Bowling League by the end of this month. That’s three weeks away. Is that understood?”
    Elma nodded without hesitation.
    Rooster waited a moment. “I guess so,” he said. “There’s not much choice in the matter, is there?”
    â€œThere’s none,” said Mrs. Helmsley.
    Rooster and Elma left the office together. They agreed to meet at the bowling alley at six o’clock Monday evening, one hour before the Strikers were due to arrive.
    â€œBe on time,” said Elma, turning and walking down the hall.
    Rooster turned in the opposite direction. “Don’t worry, Junior,” he said. “I’ll be there.”
    He did not turn around, but he knew she was glaring at him.

7
    M onday evening arrived quickly. Before he knew it, Rooster was walking down the long hill that led from his house through downtown to the bowling alley.
    His weekend had been relatively