Trouble In Trinidad

by William Manchee

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN ONLINE FREE
AUDIO VERSION

FOR INTERNET READING ONLY - PLEASE DO NOT DOWNLOAD

Top Publications, Ltd. Co.
Dallas, Texas

Top Publications Hardback

Trouble In Trinidad

This edition published by Top Publications
3100 Independence Parkway, Suite 311 PMB 349
Plano, Texas 75075

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
© Copyright 2001
William L. Manchee

ISBN#: 0-966366-7-8
Library of Congress #2001092266

First Edition

No part of this book may be published or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or information storage and retrieval systems without the express written permission of the publisher.

This work is a novel and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. The characters and events in this novel are fictional and created out of the imagination of the author. Certain real locations and institutions are mentioned, but the characters and events depicted are entirely fictitious.

Printed in the United States of America

To my son, Jeffrey

Chapter 1

    Kevin Wells stared at the blackboard, barely cognizant of his surroundings. His mind was on fast forward, racing over the previous evening’s confrontation with Paula. He liked her. He liked her a lot. She was every high school boy’s wet dream–smart, sexy and sophisticated. And she all but dragged him to her bedroom door. That’s when the argument started. He was tempted, oh was he tempted. But he just couldn’t do it. Paula was popular–too popular. Just in the short time he had known her, she had been in several relationships. Each seemed inviolate, yet each crumbled like a doublewide in the path of a tornado. He wondered how he would face his friends at lunch. They wouldn’t understand. Nobody understood. They would ridicule him.
Sergeant Walters saw that Kevin wasn’t listening. He picked up an eraser and tossed it at him. Kevin never saw it coming and jumped when the eraser hit him in the chest. There was laughter from Kevin’s classmates.
    “You see,” Sergeant Walters said, picking up the eraser that had fallen to the floor,        “Kevin wasn’t alert. He wasn’t concentrating on the task at hand. He let his mind wonder and, consequently, he was taken completely by surprise when this eraser unexpectedly came his way. Had he been alert he could have dealt with the situation quite easily. Had you been alert, Mr. Wells, what could you have done when you saw the eraser coming at you?”
    “Ah, I could have caught it, deflected it or dodged it, Sergeant,” Kevin said.
    “Right—or you could have done nothing like you did and just let it bounce off you.”
Kevin didn’t respond.
    “What I’m getting at is—you must not only see potential danger but you must immediately execute an appropriate response. Let’s say that was a live grenade I tossed at Mr. Wells. If he hadn’t been daydreaming he would have seen it coming and would have a split second to immediately execute an appropriate response—Which would be, Mr. Wells?”
    “Ah, . . . I suppose to catch it and throw it as far away as possible and then duck for cover.”
    “Good. And that decision would have to be made without hesitation. . . . Now in a combat situation the failure to be alert or the failure to immediately execute an appropriate response to a situation could be disastrous. Opportunities might be lost because of such failure, missions compromised and possibly even soldiers wounded or killed.
    “When you are on duty as an officer of the United States Army, it is imperative that you are always alert–looking, watching and waiting for any hint of trouble. Only if you are totally aware of everything that is happening around you can you immediately effectuate an appropriate response. There is no room for the undisciplined mind in the United States Army. . . . You got that, Mr. Wells?” Sergeant Walters said.
    “Yes, Sergeant,” Kevin replied.
Sergeant Walters closed his textbook in conclusion of his lecture to third period ROTC. The classroom erupted in conversation in anticipation of the final bell. Kevin got up and grabbed his windbreaker. Embarrassed by being caught daydreaming, he avoided eye contact with his classmates. Despite what had happened, his thoughts were still on Paula and how she would react to him when she saw him. As much as he tried to stay focused on school work, he couldn’t do it. Most of the debate team ate together and Paula was sure to be there. As Kevin picked up his books, Sergeant Walters made a few announcements.
    "Now that we've completed our martial arts instruction, on Monday we'll be starting on pugle sticks. I'll expect everyone to have read the instruction manual so we can get a fast start. Also, don't forget, your tactics papers are due Friday. . . . Oh, one more thing, we've been asked to provide a color guard on Thursday for the Caribbean Trade Conference. I'm going to need six volunteers. You'll get to miss all three morning periods."
A dozen cadets raised eager hands. Sergeant Walters smiled at all his enthusiastic volunteers.
    "Okay. Stuart, Smalley, Peterson, Becker, Wells and Porter."
Kevin raised his fist and exclaimed, "All right!" then gave a high five to one of the other cadets who had been selected.
The lunch bell rang and everyone left the classroom. Kevin stepped into the flow of traffic heading for the door and plunged into the hot August afternoon. He cringed at the Texas heat as he walked briskly toward the Plano High School Cafeteria. He paused a moment before going in, reluctant to face the humiliation that surely awaited him. Finally he slipped inside, hesitating again, watching his friends from a distance. Oh shit. I can’t do this. I’m gonna just skip lunch today. . . . No, that won’t help. Eventually I’ll have to face them in debate class. Damn it! I might as well get it over with.
Taking a deep breath, he walked toward their table. When they saw him approaching, they quit talking.
    Kevin smiled and said, "Hey, I can't believe it. I finally got lucky in ROTC class."
Brent glanced over at him coolly and said, “How’s that?”
    "I finally got picked for a color guard. I never get picked. It’s a miracle."
    "A color guard? You call that exciting?” Brent questioned.
    "Yeah, you better believe it,” he laughed. “I get out of class all morning. No Biology, no French."
    Brent nodded. “Nice. So, what’s the occasion?"
    "Some trade conference downtown."
    "A trade conference? . . . That sounds pretty boring."
    "Not nearly as boring as French."
    "True, but it’ll be a pain catching up. You know what a bitch it is if you miss one frickin’ day in that class."
    Kevin smiled. “I’ll borrow Paula’s notes.“
    Brent laughed. “Oh, really. After last night I doubt she’d call 911 if you were bleeding to death.”
    Brent’s comments stung Kevin. It was apparent he was not the only one with a fixation on the events of the previous night.
    “What? That was nothing. Just a little difference in philosophy.”
Brent snickered, “A difference in philosophy? Oh, I see–like communism vs. capitalism?”
    Kevin rolled his eyes. “No, like promiscuity vs. abstinence.”
    “Abstinence? God, you are sick.”
    Kevin looked away. I can’t win this debate. Give it up. He stood up and said, "Man, I'm starving. I hope they're having something decent today."
    “That would be a first,” Brent replied.
Kevin got up and walked across the room to the snack bar. Glancing back he noticed Paula and Alice were joining Brent and the others. He was sure they were talking about him and wished he were a fly on the wall so he could overhear the conversation. He grabbed a sandwich, some chips and a can of Coke® and headed back to the group. They were laughing as he approached the table.
    “Speak of the devil,” Brent whispered. “Here he comes.” They all quit talking.
Kevin looked anxiously at Paula. Her eyes were as cold as a Montana blizzard. She shook her head and looked away.
    “Here comes the Virgin Harry,” Alice said.
    They all laughed.
    Kevin gave them a quick artificial smile. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate the ridicule.”
    “Sorry,” Alice said. “I couldn’t resist.”
    "Right,” Kevin said shaking his head. “Hey, are we going to have practice tonight after school?"
    "No. Tomorrow night," Brent noted.
    "Good. I've got a paper due Friday. I'm going to be up all night."
    "What's it on?" Paula asked matter-of-factly.
    "Desert Warfare, from Rommel to Schwarzkopf," he responded.
    "Oh, how fun," Paula said dryly.
    Relief flooded over Kevin. Paula didn’t seem half as pissed as he had expected. He smiled. "It's fascinating actually."
    “I bet. So I suppose you’ll be in the library tonight?"
    “I’m afraid so. . . . Are you going to be there?”
    “I don’t know.”
    "Hmm. . . . So, did your mother have a cow last night when she came home and saw the mess?" Kevin asked.
    "No. I cleaned it up before she got home. Luckily, she didn't saunter in until after two. "
    "Where was she?"
    "She's got a new boyfriend. He's kind of cool. He works for EDS, some kind of computer genius or something. I think they went to Billy Bob's in Fort Worth."
    "Well at least he'll keep your mother busy so she won't be bugging you all the time," Alice interjected.
    “That’s true,” Paula said.
    “My parents are always on my case,” Alice said. “I really envy you.”
Kevin listened intently to Paula and Alice’s conversation but didn’t jump in. I have good parents. It wasn’t their fault. They’ve never–”
    “What about your parents, Kevin?” Alice said looking him in the eye. “Do they give you a lot of shit?”
    "No,” he laughed. “Not really.”
    "You’re lucky. If my real dad was home that would be great, but he lives in Tulsa. I don't see him unless he happens to be driving through Dallas. My stepfather is an asshole. He takes great pleasure in humiliating me whenever possible."
    "I guess I am lucky. My parents are cool."
    "You’re damn lucky," Paula said. "I guess that's where you got your strong moral conscience."
    Kevin shook his head. Oh, Jesus. It’s never going to end. "Hey, I'm not saying my philosophy is necessarily better than yours. It's just what I want for me, okay? I just hope you all can respect that."
    "Hey, it's a free country," Brent said. "If you want to die a virgin, that’s your business. Personally, I’m going to hop as many chicks as I can while I’m young and robust. Life is too short to be wasting a lot of time chasing a fantasy."
    “A fantasy?” Kevin said.
    “Yeah, Kevin. I hate to break the news to you, old bud, but there aren’t any virgins out there. At least none that I’d be caught dead with.”
    Kevin stared at Brent not knowing how to reply. Paula raised her eyebrows and started to laugh. Luckily the bell rang, giving everyone an excuse to end the awkward encounter.
    After school, Kevin went to the library to work on his paper. As he was passing the periodical section of the library, he noticed the daily newspaper. Now that he was going to be a participant, the headline about the Caribbean Trade Conference suddenly interested him. He picked up the paper and began to read the article.

STAGE IS SET FOR CARIBBEAN
TRADE CONFERENCE

    Rapidly rising gasoline prices will provide added pressure for delegates to reach some kind of a free trade agreement at next week’s Caribbean Trade Conference. At their last semi-annual meeting, OPEC members agreed on reduced production quotas sending gasoline prices sharply upward. The American Automobile Association predicts prices this summer will reach three dollars a gallon in some parts of the country.
    Last fall’s discovery of vast oil reserves near Trinidad-Tobago, spurred the US to propose a Caribbean Free Trade Association. Experts say the Cocos Bay reserves, as it has been named, contain more than five billion barrels of oil. Commerce Secretary William T. Sawyer will host the conference and the keynote speaker will be Ahmad Shah, the newly elected Prime Minister of Trinidad-Tobago, a small Caribbean island-nation, about the size of New Hampshire, located just north of Venezuela.
    Commerce Secretary, William T. Sawyer, held a news conference on Monday and outlined the agenda for Thursday's Conference. He noted it was time for the nations of the Caribbean to eliminate all barriers to free trade. He cited the tremendous success of NAFTA and expressed his belief that a similar treaty for the Caribbean would be most advantageous. When asked about the strong opposition of the Cayman Islands to the proposed treaty, Secretary Sawyer indicated he had personally talked to the Cayman ambassador and was assured that they would come to the conference with an open mind.
The keynote speaker, Prime Minister Ahmad Shah of Trinidad-Tobago, in an interview in Port of Spain, predicted an historic accord would be reached at the conference.

    Kevin put down the paper. He was about to leave when a pretty young girl stopped him. He didn't know her personally, but he did recognize her as a cheerleader.
    "You're Kevin, right?"
    "Yes."
    "Hi, I'm Stacy Cox."
    "Oh. . . . Hi."
    "How's your paper coming?" Stacy asked.
    "Slow, it's going to be a long night, I’m afraid.” He frowned. “So, how did you know I was working on a paper?"
    "Well, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? You've been poring through books and taking lots of notes all evening."
    Kevin nodded. "Right."
    She flashed a smile. Her eyes sparkled. "You're on the swim team, aren't you?"
    Adrenalin flooded Kevin’s body. Stacy was a knockout and he was about to get KO’d. "Uh huh, and you're a cheerleader."
    "How did you know that?"
    "I've seen you perform,” Kevin said brimming. “You'd be a hard person to forget."
    "If that's a compliment, thank you."
    "Just an observation. . . . Hey, didn't I see you at the last swim meet?"
    "Yes, I watched you dive. You're very good."
    "Thanks."
    "Listen, Kevin. I heard through the grapevine that you were a virgin."
Kevin’s heart plummeted. "What?"
    "I just wanted you to know, it’s okay. I'm a virgin too."
    Kevin looked around suspiciously and smiled. Give me a break. Shaking his head, he said, "Okay, who told you I was a virgin?"
    "It doesn't matter. We've found each other. The only two virgins in North Texas."
Kevin started to laugh, "Okay, is someone videotaping this?"
    "I'm serious," Stacy said. "I was told you honestly believe in chastity before marriage."
    "I do, but I think, . . . well actually, I know you're pulling my leg."
    "Why is that?” she said indignantly, “You think you're the only moral human being at this school?"
    "No, of course not, but–"
    "Let's get to know each other, okay? Maybe something might happen between us. You know? The soul-mate thingy."
    Kevin could barely contain his disgust, "Right, . . . sure."
Just then, there was laughter from the corner of the library. Kevin looked over and saw Brent, Alice and Paula laughing hysterically. He shook his head and looked back at Stacy who now too was laughing.
    "You guys won't let up, will you?" Kevin said. "I don't have time for games tonight, okay? I've got a damn paper to do. Nice meeting you, Stacy. You'll make a fine actress someday."
    Kevin gathered his stuff and left to a chorus of laughter. He didn’t look back. I wish I could tell them. Then they wouldn’t laugh. Damn it! I wish I could tell them. Kevin felt a knot in his stomach. He stopped a moment to ponder its cause. Then it hit him. He was worried about what Brent had said. What if he couldn't find his soul mate? What if she didn’t exist? . . . Was his search a futile endeavor? Was he crazy to even dream that in this day and age there could be a relationship built on love instead of sex, where a man and woman could be intoxicated with each other’s company without the need for booze or marijuana?
    When Kevin reached his car, he opened the door and dropped into the driver’s seat. Taking a deep breath, he let his head fall back against the headrest. He felt dizzy so he closed his eyes. . . . In his mind, a door opened, a bright light blinded him. He raised his hand to shield himself from its intensity. There were voices, . . . questions, . . . strangers asking so many questions. He tossed and turned. “Why! Why! . . .” He didn’t know how long he dozed, but when he opened his eyes, tears were streaming down his cheeks. Wiping them away, he started the car and drove off.
 

Chapter 2

    Sunlight had just begun to creep into Kevin’s bedroom when the alarm went off at six. He hit the snooze button with one quick swipe and then turned over. Nine minutes later the alarm sounded again and Kevin unconsciously repeated the maneuver. Before he could fall back asleep, the door opened and his mother, Pat, stood in the doorway. She turned on the light.
    "Kevin, it's time to get up. You're going to be late for your field trip."
    Kevin pulled the pillow over his head to protect himself from the glare. He was a night person. Getting up in the morning was pure torture.
    “Kevin!” his mother yelled.
    Kevin turned over and looked up at her. "Okay. I'm getting up," he said and then turned over and pulled the blanket back over his head.
    "Kevin! You said you had to meet Sergeant Walters at seven. If you get up right now, you'll barely have time to eat breakfast."
    "All right, shut the door. I'm getting up."
    Through eyes squinted against the glare, he saw his Mom frown, shake her head and finally close the door. Kevin kicked off the blankets and jumped out of bed. He went into his adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower. Then he inspected the uniform that he had laid out the night before. After he had showered and shaved, he got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. His mother had already filled his plate. She handed it to him as he went by.
    "Thanks, Mom," Kevin said.
    He put the plate on the kitchen table. Before sitting down to eat, he turned around and stood in front of his mother.
    "How do I look?"
    She smiled approvingly. "Oh, you look handsome!"
    "Thanks. Do you think my boots look shiny enough?"
    "Well, they look pretty good to me."
    "They better be okay, I spent an hour on them. You know how the sergeant has a cow if your boots aren't perfect."
    "They look fine, honey. Don't worry. How are you getting to the convention center?"
    "Sergeant Walters is driving us in his pickup."
    "How long will you be down there?"
    "The sergeant said we'd probably stay through Prime Minister Shah's keynote address and then leave. I would imagine we'll probably be there for a couple hours at least."
    "Well, I hope you have a good time."
    "I'm sure I will. Anything's better than French."
Kevin got up, wiped his mouth, gave his mother a quick kiss and walked to the door leading to the garage. Suddenly he turned around and looked intensely at her.
    "No matter what anybody says, you and Dad have always been good parents. I should know, I’m your son. Nobody knows better than me."
She looked back at him sadly, forced a smile and whispered, "Thank you, honey. I love you."
    Kevin winked and said, "I love you too. Bye."

    Sergeant Walters was waiting in the parking lot, in his Ford pickup, when Kevin arrived. Two cadets were already seated in the extended cab. When the other three cadets showed up, the group left for the Dallas Convention Center. Traffic was heavy on Central Expressway, as usual, so it was nearly an hour before they arrived. When they got there, Sergeant Walters checked in with security and was directed to park in the underground parking garage. Once they had secured their vehicle, a security officer escorted them to a room behind the main stage. Then he addressed the group.
    "All right. You'll need to wait here until the ceremonies begin,” he said. "You can begin your march to the podium when you hear them introduce you. Secretary Sawyer and Prime Minister Shah will be on the stage along with the mayor and several other diplomats. After you’ve posted the colors and the invocation has been given, you’ll take a seat along the right side of the stage. You’ll remain there until Prime Minister Shah concludes his remarks. Then you’ll exit out the east side of the convention floor. Do you have any questions?"
    "Yes,” Sergeant Walters said. “Will the kids be able to meet Secretary Sawyer?"
    "He and Prime Minister Shah will stop by and say hello, if there’s time before the program begins."
    "Excellent," Walters said.
    "All right then,” the security guard said. “I'll see you on the stage."
Kevin went over to the large double doors that led to the stage. He peered out into the spacious room filled with theater-type seats. There were four main sections in front of the stage. Two directly in front, one to the left and another to the right. Access to the dressing rooms and stage facilities was through a door to the left of the stage. The audience entered the auditorium from four entrances, one on each side of the auditorium and two more in the back of the center sections. The room had a high ceiling, with a bank of spotlights midway between stage and the back door. A thin catwalk provided access to the spotlights from a small door on the left wall of the auditorium.
There were hundreds of people milling around, looking for their seats. Kevin wondered if the place was going to fill up. As he glanced around the room, he noticed a group of band members setting up in the pit area in front of the stage. One of them got up, looked around nervously and then ducked out a side door carrying his instrument. Where is he going? He just got here. That’s weird. Wrong gig, I guess?
    "Okay, cadets. I want you all to look sharp out there today,” Sergeant Walters said.        “People all over the world will be watching you. Let's make your parents proud, okay?"
    "Is this going to be on television?" Kevin asked.
    “I believe so. You'll probably see yourself on the news tonight."
    "Cool," Kevin said, wondering if his friends would see him.
    The crowd was growing in size by the minute. Kevin noticed a number of security personnel in yellow jackets and saw several Secret Service agents wandering around, inspecting the podium area. After a few minutes, several dignitaries were escorted to the stage where they took their seats.
    A security guard entered the back room where Kevin and the other color guard members were waiting. He said, "Ladies and gentlemen. I'm proud to introduce to you, Secretary Sawyer."
    Secretary Sawyer entered the room with his wife and personal aide close by his side. He nodded and began to address the group.
    "Hello, Sergeant, . . . cadets. I want to thank each of you for helping us out today. You probably don’t realize it, but this may be one of the most important political events of the twenty-first century. It will be something to tell your children and grandchildren about. Something you’ll remember with pride."
    The secretary went around to everyone and shook their hands. The door opened again. This time, Prime Minister Shah and his wife entered the room. He was a short man of Indian descent, not more than five foot two, black hair and olive skin. His wife was a bit taller and quite attractive. In fact, Kevin and the other male cadets couldn't keep their eyes off her.
    "Good morning. I'm Ahmad Shah, and this is my wife, Anila. How are all of you this morning?"
    "Just fine, sir," Sergeant Walters said.
    "Where are all of you from?"
    "Plano High School," several of the students volunteered.
    "Is that far from here?" the Prime Minister asked.
    "No, only about twenty miles, sir," Sergeant Walters replied.
    "Is it a big school?"
    "Yes, sir. We've got over twenty-five hundred students."
    "Oh my, that's much larger than any high school in our country. Well, I wish I could stay and chat, but I must attend to my duties, you know.”
    “Of course,” Sergeant Walters said.
    “It has been a distinct pleasure meeting all of you. Thanks for helping us out today."
     "We're glad we could be of assistance," Sergeant Walters said.
    The Prime Minister waved and said, "Goodbye."
    Sergeant Walters walked Secretary Sawyer and Prime Minister Shah out of the room.
    When he returned he said, "All right, let's get ready to go. They'll be introducing us soon."
    The cadets scrambled around, getting set to march onto the stage. It took only a minute and everyone was lined up and ready to go. The mayor of Dallas welcomed all the visitors and then introduced Secretary Sawyer. The Secretary made a few remarks and then introduced the color guard.
    "At this time, I'd like to introduce our color guard from the Plano High School ROTC. Cadets! Present colors!"
    Sergeant Walters opened the door and the ROTC contingent began making their way to the stage. Two cadets led the way, carrying the American and Texas flags. Two other cadets followed with the flags of the Caribbean Federation and Trinidad-Tobago. Kevin and the last cadet walked behind the others. As the cadets arrived on the stage, they placed their flags behind the speaker's chairs and between the flags of all the other nations involved in the conference. They saluted and took their seats on the left side of the stage.
As the Secretary introduced Prime Minister Shah, Kevin sat back in his chair, excited at being in the forefront of such an important event. He looked out into the vast audience, enjoying the energy and excitement of the delegates. As his glance wandered around the auditorium, he noticed movement on the catwalk leading to the stage lights. Assuming someone was up there to work the lights, he gave it little thought.
Suddenly, the memory of the band member leaving the auditorium flashed through his mind. Maybe he got sick. I wonder if he had a backup. He looked down at the band, but the trombone player was not there.
    Secretary Sawyer concluded his introduction and Prime Minister Shah stood up. Dozens of photographers snapped pictures of the Prime Minister as he approached the podium. The crowd gave him a cordial round of applause. Kevin suddenly felt uneasy and glanced up at the catwalk again. This time, he focused on the man. He squinted. There was something in his hands. What is that in his hand? Then he saw the trombone case leaning up against the rail. What the hell? Looking back at the man on the catwalk, Kevin felt a surge of recognition. The man held a rifle in his hand – an M21, Kevin knew it well. During boot camp, he had been issued one and was taught to treat it as his best friend. He could take it apart in his sleep and he was a pretty good marksman.
    Kevin squirmed in his seat, unsure of what to do. Adrenaline flooded his system and a tingling sensation shot through his spine to his back and legs. He remembered Sergeant Walters’ words–“when a situation arises you must immediately effectuate an appropriate response.” Then he saw the laser imprint dancing around the podium. Without another thought, he bolted toward the Prime Minister. A Secret Service agent lunged to stop him, but Kevin was quicker and shot past him. Running all out toward the podium, Kevin waved his hands high above his head and yelled at the Prime Minister to get down. The shot echoed through the auditorium. Kevin felt a sharp pain in his back as the bullet pierced his flesh. He collapsed in the arms of the Prime Minister.

    Suddenly, everyone in the audience was on their feet, screaming and yelling. Photographers frantically took photographs as the Secret Service rushed Secretary Sawyer and the Prime Minister from the auditorium. In the midst of the chaos, medics swarmed toward Kevin, who was unconscious and bleeding profusely.
    "He's been shot! Get an ambulance up here fast!" the first paramedic to reach him yelled. He examined the large gaping hole in Kevin’s back and then applied pressure with a bandage to stop the bleeding.
    Panic overcame the crowd as they realized an assassination attempt had taken place. Delegates poured out the exits, looking around frantically to see if the assassin might still be lurking about. The press crowded around Kevin's limp body, trying to ascertain his condition.
    "Move back! Give him some air!" the paramedic yelled. "Where's that ambulance?" The intensity in his voice left little doubt as to the seriousness of the situation.
Suddenly, Kevin began to choke and cough. His skin was pale. He quit breathing. The paramedic launched into crisis mode, giving him mouth to mouth resuscitation until he coughed again and his chest began to expand. The medic looked toward the door anxiously, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw security officers clearing a path for the ambulance drivers who rushed in with a gurney. Kevin was quickly placed on it, given oxygen and carried off to the ambulance.
    The fading sound of a siren wailing accompanied the
security officers who began sealing off the crime scene as delegates stared in shock at the pool of blood behind the podium.

*****

    In the several seconds that it took the Secret Service to assess the situation, Peter Gosne made his escape to the roof of the convention center. He looked north anxiously, expecting security police to emerge from the stairwell at any moment. Suddenly a helicopter ascended from a resting-place at the rear of the convention center. It swept down onto the rooftop. Peter threw his trombone case and backpack into the chopper and quickly climbed in. The helicopter took off to the north, toward downtown Dallas and quickly disappeared amongst the maze of urban skyscrapers. By the time security police made it to the roof, it was deserted.

*****

    Kevin's mother was at work when she got a call from Sergeant Walters. She heard what he said, but for some reason, none of it made sense. "Blood? What are you talking about?"
    "Ma’am, I know this sounds bizarre, but your son has been shot."
    "Oh my God! How? Who would want to shoot him?"
    "It looks like it was an assassination attempt. Somehow, Kevin saw it happening and tried to save the Prime Minister's life."
Mrs. Wells began to cry. "Oh, no! Is he okay?"
    "I don't know. You need to get down to Parkland Hospital right away."
Mrs. Wells dropped the phone and nearly collapsed. One of the other secretaries was near enough to stop her from falling.
    "My Kevin's been shot. Oh God! What am I going to do?"

*****

    Kevin's father, Glen Wells, was the manager at Best Buy. He was working on a sales report when one of his salesmen ran into his office in back of the store and summoned him to a TV. The bewildered manager jumped up and followed the salesman to the television department. On the twenty-one screens displayed before him, a special Channel 4 bulletin was in progress.
    "The facts are still sketchy. No one knows who attempted this assassination of Prime Minister Shah. No one had any clue what was happening. How this brave teenager from Plano High School was able to detect the assassination attempt and try to prevent it continues to be a real mystery."
    “We're talking live with Donna Price at the Dallas Convention Center, where a young Plano High School student has just foiled an attempt on the life of the Prime Minister of Trinidad, Ahmad Shah. We have learned the identity of the Plano student from other cadets at the scene. His name is Kevin Wells. The condition of this young Plano High School cadet, who took a bullet in the back, is unknown at this time. Paramedics administered first aid at the scene before the young teenager was rushed to Parkland Hospital."
Glen ran out of the store and jumped into his car. His tires shrieked as he took off across the parking lot and onto the access road to Central Expressway. He hit the express dial on his mobile phone to call his wife. When he was told she had already left, he turned on the radio and flipped to KNEWS.
    "Dennis, we've just gotten word that Kevin Wells is in emergency surgery at Parkland Hospital as we speak. Reportedly, the bullet struck him in the back, near his right shoulder. It is thought that the bullet may have punctured his lung. We're on our way to Parkland Hospital right now."
Tears streamed down Glen's face. He wiped them away as he exited onto LBJ Freeway.
    "Okay, Paul, we'll get back to you when you have more news from the hospital. Meanwhile, we've got Barbara Scott at the Dallas Police Department where Police Chief Virgil Harris is about to have a news conference."
    "Ladies and gentlemen. As you know, there was an attempt on the life of Prime Minister Shah of Trinidad-Tobago, who was to be the keynote speaker at the Caribbean Trade Conference today. Fortunately for Mr. Shah, a young cadet from Plano High School apparently saw the assassination attempt unfolding and tried to stop it. Kevin Wells was a member of the color guard that had just brought the American Flag to the podium at the start of the conference. As the Prime Minister was about to commence his address, an assassin was taking aim at him.
    “We're speculating at this point, but somehow Kevin must have seen the assassin. He jumped up suddenly and ran toward the Prime Minister. Just as he got to the podium, a bullet struck him in the back.
    "Kevin Wells is in surgery right now and no one knows his condition. Immediately after the assassination attempt, police officers searched the convention center for the assailant. We believe the attack came from a single individual who had positioned himself on a catwalk leading to the stage lights. It seems the assailant disguised himself as a member of the band that was scheduled to play the national anthem later in the program. Members of the band have been questioned. Reportedly, one of the players is missing. It appears the assailant may have escaped by helicopter. One was seen near the convention center about the time the assassination attempt took place.
    "Secretary Sawyer and the Prime Minister were immediately taken away to a safe location. They are both shaken, but physically fine. The FBI is already on the scene. They’re working closely with military and security police from Trinidad-Tobago to try to determine who is responsible for the attack. A white Chevrolet Cavalier has been found abandoned in the convention center parking lot. It is thought to be the would-be assassin's vehicle and has been impounded by the FBI.
    "That's about all we know right now. I'll be happy to answer any questions at this time." Chief Harris concluded.
    "Chief Harris, any word on the missing band member?" a reporter asked.
    "No, we've contacted relatives and no one seems to know his whereabouts. He was last seen early this morning by his girlfriend when he left to go to the convention center. According to security records, he checked in, but no one has confirmed that they ever saw him."
    "Chief Harris, does the Prime Minister have any idea who might be responsible for this attack?"
    "I haven't talked to the Prime Minister, but we've been told by members of his staff that there’s a lot of political dissension in Trinidad over the Prime Minister's support of a Caribbean Free Trade Treaty. Perhaps the attack had something to do with that."

*****

    Glen barely slowed down as he went through the tollbooth on the Dallas North Tollway. The alarm went off but he paid it no heed. He exited on Wycliff and then went south to Harry Hines to get to Parkland. Pat Wells was already sitting on a sofa in the intensive care waiting room when he arrived. Glen hurried over to her and they embraced.
    "Have you heard anything, honey?" Glen asked.
    "No, he's still in surgery," she wailed. "How could this have happened? When I sent Kevin off this morning, I had no idea he was in danger. How could they have let this happen? Didn't they have any security?"
    Glen helped his wife back to the couch and sat down beside her. His hand shook as he ran it through his thinning hair, struggling to stay calm. "I heard on the radio the assailant disguised himself as a member of the band."
    A tall man in a light blue suit entered the waiting room. He looked around and approached Glen and Pat.
    "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Wells," he said.
    "That's right," Glen replied. “Are you a doctor?”
    The man pulled out a badge and flashed it in front of Glen's face. "I'm Agent Simmons with the FBI. I'm sorry about your son. Is he going to be all right?"
    "We don't know yet. No one’s told us anything."
Agent Simmons sat in a chair facing the couple. "Well I want you to know there's a massive manhunt going on right now to find the terrorist responsible for this outrageous act."
    "Any leads yet?" Glen asked.
    "Oh yeah, we've got leads, but nothing has materialized yet. Hey, your son, boy he's one brave kid, huh? Takes a lot of courage to jump in front of a bullet like that."
    "Kevin's never been an ordinary kid," Glen said. "He’s so much more mature than I was at his age. He worries about things that never even occurred to me when I was young."
Agent Simmons nodded as if he understood. "Really? Well maybe he should consider a political career. Kevin Wells will be a household name by tomorrow at this time. We’re all hoping he comes through this okay."
Glen clenched his teeth at the thought that Kevin might not pull through. "He'll make it. Kevin's a tenacious fighter. He never gives up. He'll pull through this thing. I know he will."
    "I hope you're right. Without his help we may never know who it was."
Just then a doctor walked into the room.
    "Mr. and Mrs. Wells? May I have a word with you?"
    "Yes," Glen said as he and Patricia walked toward the doctor with Agent Simmons close behind.
    "Your son is out of surgery. His condition is critical, but stable. The bullet pierced through his lung and lodged in one of his ribs. We were able to remove the bullet and there is some lung function at this time. Your son lost a lot of blood on the way to the hospital."
Pat began to sob. Glen put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze to comfort her.
    "In fact, he lost so much blood we had to give him three units during surgery."
    "Is he going to be all right?" Glen asked.
    "It's too early to tell. He stopped breathing a couple of times. We'll have to watch him carefully. There could be brain damage."   
    "Oh my God!" Pat wailed. Glen pulled Pat up next to him and stroked her head.
    "Kevin's going to be all right, honey. I just know he will."
    "I wish I had better news for you, but you need to know what we're up against."
    "We want you to be honest with us, Doctor," Glen said.
    "Of course. Your son is in intensive care. You can visit him now. However, I want to warn you, he's unconscious and he looks pretty bad."
Glen and Pat immediately went to the intensive care unit. Kevin was lying there, limp, with dozens of machines hooked up to his body. A nurse smiled at them as they made their way to the head of the bed. Pat held his left hand as she stroked his forehead. Glen wiped a tear from his eyes as he looked down at Kevin's pale face.
    "Do you think he'll be all right? " Pat asked.
    "He'll pull through, honey. I know he will," Glen replied.
    "Why did this happen? Kevin is the nicest boy in the world. He would never hurt anyone. I don't understand, Glen. I just don't understand why he got shot."
    "The bullet wasn't intended for him, honey. He was trying to protect someone, the Prime Minister of Trinidad, I think."
    "Why would he do that? Why did he have to get involved?"
    "That's just the way he is, honey. You know how he’s always so concerned about doing the right thing. He’s so afraid-"
    "But he didn't have to get shot, did he?"
Glen tried to console his wife with little success. After fifteen minutes, the nurse told them they must leave. Glen looked at his watch and saw it was nearly noon. The nurse informed them they could come back for another fifteen-minute visit at one-thirty. Glen took Pat's hand and gently led her out of the room.
    When Glen and Pat returned to the waiting room, they saw that Agent Simmons had been joined by two Dallas police detectives. Agent Simmons introduced them and the detectives filled them in on the latest developments.
    "There's a big crowd gathering outside, curious about your son's condition. All the local and national media have set up camp down the street. The lobby of the hospital is so full, no one can move."
    "Really?" Glen said.
    "Yeah, your son's a real hero. The whole nation is praying he'll pull through this thing. If you turn on the television, you'll see what I mean."
Glen went over to the TV and pushed the power button. The picture came on and Howard Slocum, the President's news secretary, was in the middle of reading a statement.
    "At this moment, we do not understand the motivation behind this senseless act of violence. Whether political opponents of the Prime Minister or those in opposition to free trade sponsored it, we do not know. But what we do know is that one young man, without the slightest hesitation, put his life in jeopardy to protect someone he didn't even know. For all the critics out there who have constantly complained about the immorality and indifference of our youth today, take heed. There are heroes amongst our young people. Kevin Wells proved that today.
    "This administration will not tolerate terrorism. Those responsible for this outrageous act will be brought to justice. If they thought this attack would derail our efforts to bring free trade to the Caribbean, they were dead wrong. The conference will go on. There will be an even greater urgency because of what has happened here today.
    "I will be praying, as will all Americans and millions of people around the world, that Kevin Wells will survive and recover fully from today's assault. We all want to meet and get to know this extraordinary young man. I look forward to meeting him personally when he recovers. Thank you, and may God be with you, Kevin Wells."
Glen pushed the power button and the TV screen went blank. Everyone in the room was silent. Glen walked over and sat on the sofa next to his wife. She laid her head on his shoulder and wiped the tears from her eyes. Agent Simmons looked at the two detectives and motioned that they should all leave. The room was quiet as Pat and Glen waited to learn if their son would live or die.

Chapter 3

    Ten days later, Kevin was still in a coma. His overall health had improved considerably. He was breathing on his own and his lungs seemed to be healing satisfactorily. The doctors were quite pleased overall, but still didn't know if there had been any brain damage. Pat and Glen had been by their son's side twenty-four hours a day, ever since he had been moved to a private room. They talked to him, read him books and did everything possible to try to stimulate him to a state of consciousness. However, nothing seemed to be helping.
    It was Sunday and Paula, Brent and Alice had come to visit Kevin. Once they arrived, Pat and Glen left to go to mass in the hospital chapel. The threesome wandered around the room looking at the dozens of floral arrangements and stacks and stacks of cards from well-wishers.
    "Look at this!" Paula said. "I couldn't have imagined anything so bizarre happening to Kevin."
    "I know, I feel so guilty, the way we teased him," Alice added.
Paula walked over and sat on the side of Kevin's bed. She picked up his hand and began to play with it. Brent watched her with much amusement.
Paula continued. "Well, I think Kevin knew we were just giving him a bad time. We were all probably a little jealous, I guess, or feeling guilty that we didn’t have his moral resolve."
    "Speak for yourself. I still think morality stinks," Brent said.
    "Shut up, he might hear you," Paula said.
Brent laughed. "Look at him. He's out to lunch."
    "Brent, you don't know. He might be hearing everything you're saying. So be nice."
    “Nice? He wasn’t so nice to you the other night at the party.” Brent said. “What happened anyway? I never heard the whole story.”
Paula looked away. “Oh it was no big deal. We were dancing and I could tell he was getting a little excited. So I thought I’d be nice to him and take him up to my bedroom. . . . I thought he wanted me, like I wanted him.”
Brent stared at Paula incredulously. “You were going to bed with him? Holy shit! And he turned that down?”
    Paula shrugged. “That’s about the size of it. He’s looking for his soul mate and whoever she is, she’s gotta be a virgin. That kind of ruled me out.”
Brent shook his head. ”What an arrogant bastard, not to mention being a fool. Why didn’t you come and get me?”
    Alice kicked Brent in the ass. “Cause you were screwing me at the time you lousy piece of shit.”
     Brent cracked a smile. “That’s all right. We coulda done a threesome.”
    “In your dreams,” Paula said as she leaned down and kissed Kevin on the forehead. Brent shook his head and walked away. She smiled down at him and began caressing his face with her right hand.
    Alice smiled at her, sat down and began looking through a magazine. "Look at this. Kevin's picture is on the cover of Time magazine."
    "You've got to be kidding!" Brent said. He rushed over and pulled the magazine out of Alice's hand. "Can you believe this? ‘Kevin Wells, an American hero’," he said, looking at the cover and shaking his head.
    "I wonder if he'll ever know how famous he's become," Paula said. "God, I hope he wakes up.”
    "After he humiliated you in front of all your friends, you still have a thing for him," Brent said. “I can’t believe it.”
    "I don't have a thing for him,” Paula said glaring at Brent. “He’s our friend. I just want to be here for him. Isn’t that why you two are here?"
    Brent shrugged. “I’m here cause Alice is here. Frankly I can’t stomach any of this. All of a sudden this sanctimonious jerk is a hero. It makes me sick. In fact, I’m out of here.”
    Brent turned and left. Paula gave Alice a concerned look. Alice shook her head and said, “Don’t worry. He didn’t mean it.”

*****

    Brent walked down the corridor, past the nurse’s station and stopped in front of the elevator where another man was waiting. The man glanced over and smiled. Brent nodded and waited nervously for the elevator. Finally the door opened and they got in. The man kept looking at Brent until he finally said, “Aren’t you a friend of Kevin Wells?”
Brent frowned. “We went to school together. Who are you?”
    “I’m a freelance reporter. I heard about what happened and thought I’d come on over and see if I could get the reaction of Kevin’s family and friends.”
    “I don’t know any more than you do, actually.”
    “Maybe so, but you know a lot about Kevin Wells, don’t you?”
    “Yeah, I suppose.”
    “Tell me about him.”
Brent sighed. “Tell you what? He’s a high school student. There’s really not much to tell.”
    “How did you know him?”
    “We’re on the debate team together. He’s my partner.”
    “Is he a good debater?”
    “Yeah, very good.”
    “Do you spend a lot of time together?”
    “Yeah, the debate team is a pretty close knit group. We spend a lot of time together practicing and then going to tournaments. So, you know, we’re all pretty close.”
    “So tell me about Kevin. What kind of guy is he?”
Brent thought for a minute, wondering what he should say. “He’s kind of different.”
    “Different?”
    “Yeah, you know, old fashioned, patriotic, not a big drinker, never smokes weed and– “
    “And what?”
    “And . . . well,” Brent snickered. “He’s saving himself for his soul mate.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Cross my heart. He’s searching for a virgin. . . . Good luck!”
The reporter chuckled. “Okay, so he’s a clean-cut guy with old fashioned values. . . . Well, thank you Brent. That was very insightful.”

*****

    Paula took a deep breath and turned back to Kevin. She looked at him longingly and then lowered her head and rested it on his chest to listen to his heart beating. Suddenly she sat up and looked at his hand. "I felt him squeeze my hand!"
    "What?" Alice said. "Are you sure?"
    "Yes, he squeezed my hand. I felt it. I really did."
Alice got up and moved to the side of the bed.
    "Kevin. Kevin, can you hear me?" Paula said.
Not getting any response, Paula looked up at Alice and frowned. "He really did squeeze my hand. I didn't make it up."
    "It's all right, Paula," Alice said. "You want it to happen so bad you probably imagined it."
    "No. It was real!"
    "It was probably just a reflex."
Paula’s eyes lit up. "There it is again! He's squeezing my hand!"
Kevin began to squirm in his bed. "No... no... no! Please God! No," he cried out. “Let it be me, take me!”
    "Kevin, wake up! You're dreaming," Paula said.
Kevin's eyes began to move slightly, as if he were trying to open them. Finally, they opened. Kevin looked at Paula and then, looked around the room.
    "Kevin! You're awake," Paula said.
    "Huh? . . . Paula?"
    "Get the nurse! Kevin's awake!" Paula screamed.
Paula leaned over and gave Kevin a passionate kiss. He gave her a confused look and then ran his finger over his lips.
    "I'm so happy you're awake! You've been in a coma for ten days."
    "Ten days?. . . What happened?"
    "You saved the Prime Minister's life. You're a hero."
    "A hero? What are you talking about?"
Suddenly, the door flew open and a nurse entered the room. When she saw Kevin wide awake she said, "Okay, we've got a live one in here after all. Hello, Kevin. Do you know where you are?"
    "A hospital, obviously," he said.   
    "Good. Do you recognize the people in the room?"
    "Sure, they're my friends."
    "You're damn right. They've been sitting in here for hours praying you'd come to."
    Paula began to cry. "I'm so happy you're okay, Kevin."
    The door flew open again and Kevin's doctor rushed in.
    "Well, Mr. Wells, it's so nice to see you awake." The doctor pulled out a small flashlight and began to examine Kevin's eyes. "Your eyes look clear. How do you feel?"
    "Okay, I guess. Just kind of tired, a little light headed and–"
    The door opened again, and Glen and Pat rushed in.
    "Kevin! Oh, Kevin! You're okay," Pat said.
    "Yes, Mom. I'm fine, but I wish someone would tell me what happened to me."
    "We almost lost you, son," Glen said.
    "You scared the hell out of us," Pat sobbed.
    "I'm okay, I feel fine, except I'm a little tired and my shoulder hurts like hell."
    "It's no wonder. That's where the bullet hit you," Paula said.
    "What bullet?"
    "The assassin's bullet, silly," Paula replied.
    "Didn't you know you'd be shot when you jumped in front of the Prime Minister?"
    Kevin squinted at Paula and then replied, "The Prime Minister?"
    "Yes, don't you remember the Caribbean Trade Conference?"
    "Ohhh. Yeah, right. The color guard.... It's kind of fuzzy, but it's coming back."
    "Okay, let's clear the room so I can examine my patient,” the doctor said. “You all can come back later."

*****

    The news of Kevin's recovery spread fast. The President issued another statement, thanking God for saving Kevin Wells and renewing his resolve to find the people responsible for the attack. Hundreds of letters and cards arrived every day. Visitors flocked to the hospital to see him, as he had become an overnight celebrity.
In honor of his contribution to the cause of free trade, the members at the Caribbean Trade Conference hammered out a treaty, which they called the Wells Accord. Kevin Wells was the first teenager in history to have a treaty named after him.
After another week of convalescence, Kevin was ready to go home. It was Sunday afternoon. He was packing up his things when the nurse walked in to advise him he had visitors. The news didn’t please him as he was anxious to get home.
    "Who is it this time?" he moaned.
    "I think you'll want to see this visitor," the nurse said.
    "I seriously doubt it, who is it?"
    Just then a man in a blue coat walked in and quickly scanned the room. "It's okay, Mr. President."
    The President walked in and smiled broadly at Kevin. Kevin froze, not quite sure how to react. He had been told the President wanted to see him but didn’t really believe it would actually happen.
    "I've been very anxious to meet you, Kevin," the President said.
    “Really? . . . Well, I've always wanted to meet you too, sir," Kevin replied.
    "You're looking good. How do you feel?"
    "I'm feeling fine. I'll feel a lot better when I get home. I'm so tired of being cooped up in a hospital room all day."
    "I bet. Well, I guess you know you've really touched the hearts of the American people."
    "That's what I've heard, but I really didn't do anything that extraordinary."
The President laughed. "Oh, really? Well, when you decide to do something extraordinary let me know, will you? I want to be there to see it."
    Kevin shook his head and smiled. "I can't believe I'm talking to the President of the United States."
    "It's me, in the flesh. So, what are you going to do when you get out of this place?"
    "Get some decent food."
    The President laughed, "Well, I wish I had time to buy you dinner, but I've got to get back to Washington by eight o'clock. Maybe I'll invite you to dinner at the White House. Would you like that?"
    Kevin nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely!"
    "Oh, I've brought someone with me who is very anxious to meet you."
    "Really, who is it?"
    "Bring her in," the President said to his aide.
    Kevin looked toward the door, extremely curious to see who the President had brought with him. Much to his delight, a young lady about his age walked in and smiled at him. She had long black hair, exquisite green eyes and an alluring smile. Kevin stared at her, his mouth slightly open.
    "Kevin, I'd like you to meet Kiran Shah."    
    Kiran smiled and extended her hand. Kevin stood up, took it and squeezed it gently. A rush of blood immediately went to his head. He felt faint and nearly collapsed.
    "Are you all right?" Kiran asked.
Kevin sat down and Kiran knelt before him.
    "Now I am," he said.
    "I guess you figured out, Kiran is Prime Minister Shah's daughter," the President said. "She was traveling with the Prime Minister and witnessed what happened. The Prime Minister had to get back to Trinidad to make sure everything was okay there. He felt badly that he couldn't stay to personally thank you for saving his life. I suggested he leave Kiran behind to do that."
    Kevin looked into Kiran's eyes and replied, "I'm sure glad he followed your advice."
    Kiran laughed and then stood up.
    "Mr. Wells, I want to thank you for saving my father's life. What you did was the most courageous thing I have ever seen. I will always be in your debt. On behalf of the people of Trinidad-Tobago, I give you our warmest and most sincere thanks. You will always be honored in our country."
    "You're welcome. I'm glad I was there at the right time to save your father. I don’t know him, but I understand the people of your country really love him."
    Kiran smiled. A tear ran down her cheek as she leaned over and gave Kevin a gentle kiss. Kevin closed his eyes and savored her sweet lips, but he was not prepared for the jolt of sexual energy that she aroused in him. He stood up and gazed excitedly into her eyes. She backed off slightly surprised by his reaction.
    "Well, I must go," Kiran said.
    She extended her hand one more time. Kevin quickly seized it and shook it firmly. Kiran smiled one last time and then left.
    "I think she likes you," the President said and winked at Kevin
    "Really?"
    "Uh huh, I believe you're the first man she's ever kissed."
    Kevin stared at the empty doorway, wondering if he'd ever see Kiran again. She had come so unexpectedly and left so quickly. Her presence seemed like nothing more than a dream. He took a deep breath, still smelling the sweet scent of her perfume. Then he ran his tongue over his lips, reliving the taste of her tender kiss. He was excited at the thought that he had been blessed with her first kiss. Could that really be true? He wanted to kiss her again and again.
    Is this the woman I’ve been searching for? She must be. I’ve never felt this way before. He had such an intense exhilarating feeling, so erotic, that he could think of nothing but her. Oh God! Now that I’ve met you, how can I ever live without you?
    "Well, I've got to go," the President said, jerking him back to the present.
Kevin blinked and then forced a smile. "Thank you, Mr. President. I'm honored that you came to visit me."
    "I don't know,” he said smiling. “Somehow I think you enjoyed meeting Kiran more than you did me.”
    Kevin grinned and waved to the President as he left. He couldn't believe his good fortune!

CHAPTER 4

    The last time Kevin was in Los Angeles, he was nine years old on a trip to Disneyland. The Wells family was middle class and therefore forced to live on a budget. Accordingly, they stayed at a Motel Six rather than the Disneyland Hotel. And back then they ate fast food rather than dining in expensive restaurants.
    This time it was different. Kevin and his family were picked up by a limousine and taken to the Century Plaza Hotel. They were given a luxury suite and every amenity money could buy. Early in the afternoon, a representative from NBC knocked at their door and informed them it was time to go to the studio. Kevin and his family went downstairs and were taken away by limousine to the NBC studios in Burbank. Kevin was taken back stage and his family was seated in the audience. The show began at four o'clock.
    "Ladies and gentlemen, from Burbank, California, it's time for the Tonight Show starring the one and only, Jaaaaaay . . . Leno!"
Jay Leno appeared from behind the curtain and walked out onto the stage. Elegantly casual, he paused long enough to shake hands with several people who had crowded up to the base of the stage. The Tonight Show band played in the background and the crowd yelled wildly. Finally, Jay went back up onto the stage and started his monologue.
    "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We've got an excellent show tonight. The sexy Uma Thurman, the music of Crimson Tide and a special treat–America's newest hero, Kevin Wells."
    The crowd yelled and screamed in delight. Kevin was back stage watching on a monitor. He was very excited and extremely nervous at the prospect of being on national television. And the thought of sitting next to Uma Thurman did little to calm his nerves. As Jay's interview with Uma moved towards its conclusion, Kevin was moved to a chair directly behind the curtain.
    "Well Uma, are you excited about meeting Kevin Wells tonight?" Jay asked.
"Oh God, yes. He was so brave, I could just kiss him,"
she cooed.
    "Uweee...," the crowd roared.
    "Oh. Well, now I know what it takes to impress a woman. All you've got to do is take a bullet, guys. Well, now you know."
Uma giggled and the crowd laughed hysterically.
    "Okay, we'll be right back after this message from Energizer®."
The camera went to a commercial depicting an auditorium full of screaming delegates. Suddenly the Energizer® bunny appears, wearing a cadet's uniform. As it moves down the aisles it is pelted with gunfire. The bunny falls over, but quickly gets up and keeps on moving. It's pelted again with gunfire, and falls over once again. After a second, it's on its feet once more, with several gaping holes through it. Another barrage of gunfire is heard and the bunny goes down one more time. There's a pause and the screen is momentarily blank. Suddenly, the bunny appears and keeps on moving toward the podium. Finally, a message appears; The Energizer® battery keeps on going and going and going. . . .
The Tonight Show band then struck up some music and Jay Leno beat his pencil on the desk.
    "Okay. The moment we've been waiting for has arrived. Ladies and gentlemen, meet America's teenage hero, Kevin Wells!"
Kevin walked out from behind the curtain and waved at the crowd. At the request of NBC, he was dressed in a military dress uniform. As he approached the guest chair, Jay intercepted him and shook his hand. The crowd went wild. Before he could sit down, Uma Thurman grabbed him, put her arms around him and gave him a big hug. Kevin didn't know what to do, other than enjoy the moment. Then, she kissed him passionately and the crowd went ballistic.
    "Did you see that?" Jay asked. "Uma never kissed me like that. I’m telling you, see what a bullet in the back will do for you, guys?"
Uma finally let go of Kevin. She returned to her chair, sat down and crossed her legs. Kevin stood in front of Jay's desk, seemingly paralyzed. Jay got up, went over to him and waved his hand in front of his face.
    "Okay, Kevin. The kiss is over, you can sit down."
The crowd roared. Kevin smiled and sat down.
    "It's all right, Kevin. Uma has that effect on a lot of men. Isn't that right, guys?"
The men in the audience howled in response.
    "Speaking of kisses, Kevin. I heard you got a kiss from Prime Minister Shah's daughter."
Kevin raised his eyebrows and said, "Yes, I sure did."
    "Well she was obviously glad that you saved her father's life. So I can understand why she wanted to kiss you. She was very grateful, I guess?"
    "Yes, she was very grateful," Kevin replied.
    "What was a shock to me though," Jay continued, "was that when she kissed you, I understand it was the first time she had ever kissed a man."
Kevin shook his head affirmatively.
    "That's what the President said."
Jay turned his head thoughtfully. "So the President told you that when he visited you? I wonder how he knew. You think the CIA told him? Have they had a spy satellite focused on her?"
    Laughter came from the crowd.
    "No," Kevin laughed. "She told him on the way over to see me."
    "Okay, I'm going to put you on the spot now. You've just received an incredible kiss from Uma Thurman. Now I want you to compare that kiss and the kiss of the Prime Minister's daughter."
    Kevin suddenly went numb as he recalled Kiran's tender kiss.
    Jay smiled in amusement. "Hello, Kevin?"
    He blinked, looked at Jay and returned the smile. "I'm sorry, I was just trying to compare them in my mind."
    "Oh, good. Take your time, I know it's going to be a tough call."
Kevin looked a Uma and smiled. "Well, Uma's kiss was incredible and I'll always remember it. I really will.” Then he looked back at Jay. “But, there was something about Kiran's kiss. It’s hard to describe. It was just so sweet and tender. . . yet, so passionate. . . . I don’t know. To be honest I could scarcely think of anything else for days."
    "Ewww. . .," the crowd yelled.
    Uma sat up in her chair pretending to pout then she broke into a smile and laughed. "Can I try again, Kevin? I'll be more tender this time."
    "No, you had your chance," Jay said emphatically. "You're too old for Kevin anyway, come on."
    "But I like younger men. What can I say?" Uma replied.
    "Okay. Seriously. I've been wanting to ask you a bunch of questions about what happened. Tell me, Kevin. What went through your mind when you realized an assassin was about to take out the Prime Minister?"
    "Nothing, really. There wasn't time to think.”
    “But obviously something happened in your mind to make you react so quickly.”
    “Yes, I remembered what Sergeant Walters had taught us in ROTC class.”
    “Oh, really? What was that?”
    “‘He said when you are confronted with a situation you must immediately effectuate an appropriate response.’”
    “I see. So it was your military training that prepared you for this situation.”
“Correct,” Kevin replied. “It’s strange when I think of it now, but I was actually tested a few days before.”
    “Tested? What do you mean?”
    “Well, the Saturday before the assassination attempt I was at a swim meet and the cheerleaders had made a giant sign for us ten feet wide. They had worked hard on it and it really looked great. While I was waiting for my dive a couple of kids started messing around and they knocked one of the supports for the sign loose. I was watching just a few feet away when the sign started to fall.”
    “Oh, no,” Jay said. “So–”
    “So, I probably could have caught the sign and kept it from falling, but I couldn’t move. I just sat there and watched it fall and rip apart.”
    “Oh, I get it. You didn’t immediately effectuate an appropriate response and the sign was destroyed.”
    Kevin shrugged, feeling the blush creep up his neck. “Right, I just didn’t react quickly enough. It made me so mad.”
    “Well, it was just a sign,” Jay said.
Kevin smiled. “Yeah, but I could have been a hero with all those cheerleaders watching.”
    The crowd roared with laughter.
    “So I vowed the next time something like that happened, I’d be ready.”
Jay nodded. “I see, so this time you were ready?”
    “Right. I guess,” he squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable with all the attention. Jay seemed to be expecting more, so he added, “I saw the guy on the catwalk. When I looked back at the Prime Minister and saw the little red dot, it all clicked."
    "What's the last thing you remember as you ran up there onto the podium?"
    "I remember sidestepping a Secret Service agent who tried to tackle me."
    "Yes, I saw that on CNN. The Cowboys want to see you after the show," Jay laughed.
    "It was weird – everything seemed like it was in slow motion. I remember the Prime Minister looked shocked when he saw me coming."
    "Did you feel the bullet hit you?"
    "Not really. I just vaguely remember a pain in my back. Then, it's a blank, until I woke up ten days later."
    "Wow! That's incredible. Okay, so what do you have planned now that you're a celebrity? Politics? Maybe a career in acting?"
    "No, I'm just going to go back to Plano and finish high school."
    "Well, that's good to hear. Ladies and gentlemen, take a good look at a true American hero, Kevin Wells."
    The crowd gave Kevin a standing ovation. He nodded and smiled back appreciatively.
    "Kevin, thanks for being our guest and good luck to you in the future,” Jay said. Don't take anymore bullets, okay?"
    "No. No more bullets."
Kevin shook hands with Jay and then with members of the band. Uma gave him one last hug as the Tonight Show broke for a commercial.
 

*****

    Kevin was high as a kite as he left the studio. He and his family were taken to a posh restaurant for dinner and then to a party hosted by several NBC executives. That night, when Kevin returned to the hotel, he was in a daze. Since he awakened from his coma, everything seemed like a dream. He could hardly sleep that night. Finally, well past midnight, he dropped off into a shallow slumber.
    It was dark. He was in the front of his house. Blue and white lights from a squad car were flashing. Cameras were going off in his face. Strangers were asking questions, so many questions. He began to run toward the house. . . . "No! No!" Kevin screamed. "Oh, God! Please. No!"
    "Kevin, wake up. You're dreaming," Mrs. Wells said.
Kevin opened his eyes and looked at his mother. He sat up.
    "What’s wrong?"
    "You were moaning and groaning. You must have had a nightmare."
    "I don't know how he could be having nightmares after spending the evening kissing Uma Thurman," Mr. Wells commented. "It was probably an erotic dream. You just misinterpreted the moaning and groaning."
    "Glen, that's enough. Uma's not good enough for my boy."
Kevin sat up and smiled at his parents.
    "Some evening, huh?"
    "Yeah, I just hope you're ready to come back to reality, Kevin. This can't last forever. You've got to get back to school. You've missed so much already."
    "I know. I'm ready to go back to a normal life. It's been fun, but it's starting to wear me out."
    "I can imagine. You're still recuperating from the surgery for godsakes," Mr. Wells said.
    "I miss my friends, too."
    "Well, we'll be home tomorrow, so you'll have a couple days to rest before you start back to school on Monday.
    "Good, wake me up Monday morning."

Home