Charity Fundraising - 4. Chapter 4- Taking Our Places

The guys waited for John to respond to the suggestion that he take the first shift. For someone who had been talking so big just a few minutes ago, it was jarring how he suddenly changed back to the quiet, reserved type. I was getting more and more impressed with the rest of the guys, though. They didn’t push or harass John, just watched.

Then I remembered what he whispered to me while the others were occupied. It gave me an idea.

“Since the gates are about to open, we need to revert back from PG-13 to G rated. John, keep your shorts on, just change to a white shirt.”

John looked up at me like I had thrown him a lifeline. Then he said, “Sure boss. Mike, Ray, Pete - white shirts and follow me.”

I felt a funny, unnatural vibration in my pocket. I took me a couple seconds to realize I still had a cell phone in my pocket. What a moron, considering all the water I’d been around.

It was Ben.

“Dude, how come you’re not ready for the carnival to start?”

“What are you talking about, Bud? The tank’s full, the cutout and changing room are constructed, the tables are set in front with flyers.”

“Yeah - but you still have your phone on you. Pull your head out of your -“

“Okay, okay. But I can’t get rid of it until you stop talking to me.”

Ben chuckles while I motion to Joe to follow me to the other table. Chuck & Tiny were rustling through the locker.

“Learned anything yet?” I ask Ben,

“Not yet. Still eating breakfast. We start in about half an hour. Sooooo, how did my surprise work out?”

“I don’t think you’re going to like this.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Well, you sent me seven handsome young guys, and they ALL have the hots for me.”

While Ben shouts “Bullshit!” to that, Joe turns to me startled. I wink at him and he just shakes his head. Games don’t have to stop when you graduate college, dude.

“What did you just ask, Ben?”

“Are you alone?”

“No, do you need me to be?”

“Yes.”

The gates are open but we are near the back so nobody’s come this way yet. I motion to Joe to watch the money and go sit in the driver’s seat of the truck.

“Okay, shoot.”

Ben takes a deep breath, and then warns me, “Keep having fun with those guys, but remember - volunteers are off limits. And you’ve got a job to do.”

Shit. Ben knows me too well. Okay, pull yourself together.

“Not to worry, Bud. They already gave me a show before we started. And it was their idea, not mine I’ll have you know. I think’ I’m good for the day. They’re a great bunch of kids. Whoever picked them must really like us.”

“Glad to hear it. I had to keep quiet about myself 10 years ago when I went there. But I think things are starting to change. Anyway, better let you go. I want to see how other organizations here have been recruiting volunteers. Keep that phone safe - I want updates.”

“Sure thing Ben - learn a lot.”

I empty my pockets rather sheepishly and put the contents in the glove box. I take the spare key out of my hiding place and hide it under the front tire, just in case one of the boys accidentally locks the truck. By the time I got back to the pie booth the eager beavers had already filled all 6 pie plates with shaving foam. “Good advertisement guys, but you may want to wait until we have customers. The foam won’t keep that long in just the dry air.”

“Sorry, boss,” said Tiny. “You want us to put it back in the can for you?”

“Yeah, I’d love to see that.”

The girl who had checked us in earlier came by. She was stopping and talking to the captain of each booth she passed. When she got to ours she came straight to me. I noticed that all the guys came over to hear what she had to say - except John and Peter. I think I now had my answer the second question I asked them.

“We’ve opened up the gates by now. Do you need anything else, Scott?”

“Yes.” I looked around at the guys. “I forgot to get your name.”

“Michelle Abigail Rose Honeycutt. Call me Missy. Here’s a card with my number in case you need something later.”

“Thanks.” I glance at all the guys around me, hide the number in my palm, and make a big show of putting it in my pocket. Do I need to explain the irony of this situation?

The gamesmanship starts up again.

“Didn’t I see you in my English class?”

“Aren’t you one of the volleyball players?”

“No, you’re one of the cheerleaders, I remember seeing you cheering after I made a great catch?”

When Ray invites her to come back when it gets hot because we have a comfortable chair by the water that will help keep her cool, I decide to “rescue” her. “Missy, I’m sure you have other booths on your rounds. Get back to work, guys.” She seems almost as disappointed as my guys, but then checks her watch and rushes off.

Business was real slow the first hour. Only about 50 people came by and we had less than a dozen paying customers. Tiny and Chuck were standing behind the cutouts, but the cream fired at them had all missed so far. John had been dunked only twice. Because of my instructions they guys were refraining from pushing the button to make him go in. Joe was filling me in on the gossip about his pledge class, including the pair of pledge masters and the guys who were not selected for this service project. He lowered his voice.

“And to answer your question, I really think John is gay.”

“You know, I love the gossip, but it’s not really polite to out someone.”

He looked slightly abashed. Then he added, “I know. But considering where you work and what you do, I think of this more as seeking professional help than outing him. If there’s anything you can do, I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. But if I find out he is you won’t hear it from me. Is he the only one you suspect?”

“Are you about to out somebody else?” Joe asked.

“No, I'm not really asking about them. I’m asking about you. Do you see the difference?”

That had him puzzled for a few minutes. Before he could work it out, I noticed a small crowd coming our way. I looked a little closer then grinned. “Joe, we may need to waive some of the fees for a little bit.” I pointed to Chuck, then the table. Then I motioned to Joe and Mike and had them follow me to where John was sitting on the tank. Nobody was throwing so I was able to talk to all three.

“You know Big Brothers and Big Sisters? We kind of stole their model a little. For a few of our kids in need we screen and check regular volunteers who are willing and assign them to spend some outside time. Normally it’s one-on-one time, but it looks like the two qualified volunteers we have left have organized a field trip.” I pointed. “See that group all in matching yellow YEC t-shirts? The tall one is Jack and the short one is Jeff. When they’re together, we call them ‘J-J.’ They’ve got about 10 of our kids with them. The kids won’t have much cash and the volunteers aren’t supposed to spend much on the kids - we don’t want to discourage volunteers or create too high expectations for the kids. We ought to comp the kids a few throws. But keep in mind, we don’t want to clog up the money stream in case we get paying customers.”

“So, we’re going to get to meet some of the kids we’re helping?” asked John.

“And see what your regular volunteers are like?” asked Mike.

“Excellent!” said Joe as I nodded.

“Go it? Okay, break.”

Have I mentioned what a great group of guys were working with me at the booths?

John traded places with Mike and went to fill in the rest of his crew. Joe went next door to do the same while I went forward to meet the YEC delegation.

“Well, look what dragged itself in out of the rain. Good to see you guys!”

Greetings and high/low fives went all around. Johnny, about 11 years old, got the first hug, and the last. I lost track, he might have gotten another one or two in between. He seems to have bonded with me since his dad died. He held my hand as the greetings wound down.

“Now, J-J, did y’all come to get in the dunk tank or the pie booth?” The best defense is a good offense, right?

There was one 15 year old among our charges, Chris, but he was rather shy. The rest ranged from about 9 to about 13 and started looking up expectantly.

“Naw, we came to watch,” said Jeff.

“Besides, we don’t have a change of clothes,” added Jack.

“Well come on, then.” I don’t want to give the kids high hopes until I was sure, but I’m going to mention the wads of spare clothes to J-J when I can do it discretely. I bet they’d be up for it, and kids would rather dunk someone they know if possible.

As we approached the booths I raised my voice a little to address all of the kids. “You have to stay behind the table while you’re watching. If you get to throw, then on your turn follow instructions from the men. Boys, all of these men are from the Pi Iota Epsilon pledge class at Big State U. Why don’t you all thank them for helping us raise money for the center?” I started clapping and the YEC delegation joined in with a rousing cheer.

Joe, being the PIE leader, took his cue. “Hey guys, I’m Joe. Great to meet you!” Lowering his voice, he pointed to the plywood cutouts. “Do you see those two bozos over there. That’s Chuck & Tiny. Don’t they look bored? Who wants to wake them up with a pie?”

I sidle over to J-J while Joe starts giving throwing tips to Chris. “No pressure, but we have plenty of changes of clothes if you want to play.”

Jack answers, “I’ve always wanted to get in a dunk tank, but it’s your rule that we need a five-to-one ratio with the kids.”

“That’s not my rule, I just work there. And what am I, chopped liver - I can trade out with you one at a time and we’ll still be within the rules.”

“Well there you go,” said Jeff to Jack.

Jack considers for only two beats before he says, “Okay.”

“John,” I say, “show this gentlemen where to change clothes.”