The Marsh County school bus turned off Lindsey Street onto Parker and passed Dubb's Drugstore, which wasn't even open this early in the morning. It promised to be a fine, bright September day. A time when most of the town's residents were just finishing up their breakfast and looking forward to the work day. Well, all except the sixteen kids on the bus who looked sullen and morose ... it was the first day of school.

The inevitable end of summer vacation always dampened the spirits of children across the Southland. Except today MT was feeling pretty good about life. Tenth grade meant he wouldn't be on the bottom rung of the school ladder anymore. He was turning sixteen in three weeks, and with a driver's license there was no way to go but up.

Those were two good reasons to feel happy, but then MT looked over at the boy sitting beside him and smiled. Here was the best reason of all.

"Nervous?" MT asked.

"Of course," Perry replied. "I hardly know anyone while they all know who I am. Look at them trying not to get caught staring at me."

"I think it's us they're looking at ... we're famous."

"Infamous is more like it," Perry said, and that made him smile.

The bus ground to a halt at the railroad tracks and the driver looked both ways. MT looked down the aisle and out the front windshield of the bus. There across the tracks was the last bunch of kids waiting for the bus. The quiet ride they had enjoyed until now was about to end. They called this Lively Corners for a reason.

Elvira Clemmons stomped on the accelerator and the bus bounced across the tracks, lifting the students a good three inches off their seats. MT laughed over Perry's apparent shock at the maneuver, but old Elvira had been crossing the tracks like this since she got behind the wheel of a bus several decades ago.

"What the hell was that?" Perry asked. "Does this woman know how to drive?"

"Aw, she's just afraid of stalling out on the tracks," MT said. "She can tell you about every accident that's happened on that crossing, just ask her. She'll tell you straight up that we aren't going to become one of the statistics."

"Oh, that's good to know."

The bus pulled up to the corner of Parker and Fairview Road and the doors popped open. The dozen or so black kids climbed the steps, and like they had been taught, each of them greeted the driver.

"Good Morning, Ms. Clemmons."

If you didn't say that to her then she would get sullen, and Elvira had a temper. Stories about her anger abounded among the students. In a bad mood she would stop to let the students off in the largest mud puddle she could find. Other times she might just sit at a stop for ten minutes while pretending to look something up in the driver's manual.

But a cheerful "Good Morning, Ms. Clemmons" always kept her happy and she would greet each student by name and admonish them to have a good day when they got to school. MT didn't have a lot of time to feed this nonsense, but he was still wary of the woman.

Perry had told MT she almost drove the bus right past him this morning as he stood at the end of the driveway on the Trogdon estate. But she had slammed on the brakes and stood waiting for him to run up to the door. She had apologized, telling Perry it had been darn near twenty years since there had been a Trogdon on her bus.

But those comments had been heard by everyone on the bus and Perry had felt the eyes upon him as he walked the aisle towards the first empty seat. He had been careful to dress well that morning, yet nothing he wore said expensive. It would take time for the other students to accept his presence, if they did at all.

The kids from Lively Corners stormed the empty seats on the bus like a flock of birds settling in to the branches of a tree. Elvira kept an eye on the large mirror over the windshield until every one of her charges was seated. The door slammed shut and the bus accelerated.

"Hold on," MT warned, grabbing the rail across the back of the seat in front of him, but Perry quickly did the same.

The bus seemed to sway as they took the corner and probably would have gone up on two wheels if they had been going any faster. At least MT's imagination always said they might, even though he knew the load was too heavy for that to happen. Elvira took the swing onto Fairview Road and floored it.

Perry looked astonished. "That woman is crazy," he said.

"Aw, she does that every time unless there's a sheriff's car in sight. Nothing dull about riding with Elvira," MT said.

He felt a nudge on his shoulder and turned to find Leon Ball's smiling face behind him.

"Hey, Boy ... I damn well ain't seen you for half the summer," Leon said.

"Things got pretty heated up, you know that. We had to skip town," MT replied. "This is my cuz, Perry."

Leon gave Perry a glance and nodded. "He doesn't look gangsta to me." Then he smiled. "We hear all kinds of stuff about you shooting people ... any of it true? Momma says you are one dangerous white boy."

"Bernice says that about me?" Perry asked.

Leon laughed. "It's all good. You hang with MT, so at least I know you won't be shootin at me. Besides, ya 'all did us a favor when you took Jason out."

"That was my fault," MT said. "I hear he's still in the hospital ward."

"Gonna be there a while, I expect," Leon said. "Pretty painful lesson you gave him."

"Can we talk about something else?" MT asked.

"I guess, but one thing more. The boys and I talked it over and you two have our protection from now on. Just our little way of saying thank you. So how was Florida?"

"Hot, sandy ... and loads of fun," MT said.

"Babes on the beach?" Leon asked.

"Few, very few ... wrong time of the year. Most of the condos down there have elderly folks in them. But you would have liked the lifeguards."

Leon grinned. "Baywatch, huh?"

That television show had been in reruns for years and Leon was an avid fan. The opening sequence showed this Baywatch babe in a skimpy bathing suit running down the sand with her greatest assets bouncing up and down. It was Leon's favorite moment of the show. MT laughed when Leon stood up and did his impression.

"Baywatch," Leon said, cupping his hands in front of his chest as if he had a fine set of boobs. The producers of the show did nothing to hide the way that chest on the girl bounced as she ran.

"Sit down, Leon," Elvira yelled, and the boy dropped back in his seat.

"So you get yourself any?" Leon asked.

A perpetual horn dog, Leon had an undeserved reputation as the school lothario. The boy was bright and there were two little known facts about him that MT kept to himself. Leon was always on the honor roll and he was still a virgin, but he never played those cards in the game of life.

The Lively Boys was a loose knit bunch of black high school kids who had formed up to counteract the haters at school. Jason Wicket and some of his friends comprised the opposition, so it remained to be seen how things would pan out this year. Without Jason around, due to his unfortunate accident at the mine, perhaps his little gang would falter and die.

Accident, that was how the Sheriff had described the fire that gave Jason's body a rash of third degree burns. The truth had not made its way into the news, but when the boy recovered and had to face a judge things would be different.

None of that mattered to MT this morning as the bus crossed the bridge over Chickamauga Creek and headed out into the farmland beyond town towards Fairview. Marsh County was small enough that Trogdon and Fairview had to share a high school, which had been built squarely between the two towns. Of course Fairview wanted the school named after them until the school board decided to name it after Andrew P. Marsh. He was one of the founding members of the legislature way back in the days when Georgia became the thirteenth, and final, colony to form a new nation. No one could argue with that logic.

Parts of the school had been around for fifty years, but about every decade or so the school board was handed funds to build a new wing. The result was a hodge-podge of frightening construction techniques which left the outside of the school looking like a train wreck. The inside, however, was a warm and welcoming home for the students and the Marsh Rangers, their erstwhile unsuccessful football team. Go Rangers.

There was a great deal of history in the hallowed halls of Old Marsh. The football team was supposedly named after that stalwart group of colonists, the First Georgia Rangers, who formed a militia to defend the residents from Indian attack back in 1756. So it was with some surprise that the plaque commemorating the Rangers cast by the local historical society was of something entirely different.

The large bronze device now held a place of honor affixed to the wall outside the main office of the school. But back in 1971, when it was presented, there was quite a ruckus from the long standing, and very white, Sons of the Confederacy. It seems in the fall of 1862, when the Union armies fought their way into Georgia, they were met by General Braxton Bragg, the First Georgia Rangers, and a contingent of colored troops.

The black citizens of Marsh County were astonished that several of the figures engraved on the plaque were colored troops carrying weapons. That a group of well-meaning white ladies in the historical society deemed it necessary to include those figures was a profound moment for the residents of Lively Corners.

To meet the war of words that quickly followed, the school allowed the debate to enter into the curriculum, and the subject of black support in the Separation of the States spilled into the classroom. It took a decade for the controversy to simmer down, and yet even now, the subject was discussed in history classes.

The large circular driveway in front of the school was filled with large yellow buses when Elvira pulled in to take her place in line. The doors squeaked open and the students were finally allowed to stand.

"Have a great day," She admonished, and then laughed when that comment was met with a chorus of groans. "Aw, don't be so glum ... this is only the first day of the rest of your life."

MT rolled his eyes, having heard that same line year after year. But Perry smiled since all of this was new to him.

"She seems all right," Perry said as they stepped down onto the sidewalk.

"So you don't think she's crazy anymore?" MT asked.

"No, that still applies. But anyone who drives a school bus for twenty years has to be crazy."

Marsh High only had a student population of about eight hundred students, all of them divided fairly evenly among the four grades. To save resources, the school board had built Marsh Middle School on the adjoining property and they shared the vast fields used for physical education.

MT led Perry into the front hallway and down towards the main gymnasium where they would pick up their class schedules. Barbara had taken care of registering the boy for classes on her last trip into town and so all that remained was for Perry to find out what classes he was taking. That sounded easy, but it wasn't.

Perry's transcripts from Altamont Academy stirred up a little excitement in the school administration. Barbara met with Dennison Finneyfrock, the latest in a long line of principals imported to Marsh High from the big city of Atlanta. The solitude of the mountain valleys in this little corner of the state appealed to many of them, the others just couldn't get home soon enough.

Finneyfrock was a Yankee, born and raised in rural Pennsylvania. But he was a fine educator, and like Elvis Dubb, the man was valued for his contribution to the citizens of the county. No, he wasn't gay, just a very bright and well-educated man.

The academic record of each and every student crossed Finneyfrock's desk, and at first read Perry's was exceptional. The attached notes from Altamont's counselors were less than stellar. Introvert, inattentive, less then active in sports, and the class troublemaker were the words that stood out. But Perry was an exceptionally bright student and his grades reflected that trait.

Finneyfrock had smiled at Barbara, well aware that Trogdon was a name he had to keep in mind. "I think your son was bored in eighth grade," he suggested. "How would you feel about advancing him into the tenth grade this year?"

Barbara considered that for a moment and then smiled back. "I think it would do him a world of good."

MT wasn't at all surprised when he found out since he thought Perry was probably smarter than most of the seniors at Marsh High. This meant that they would share some classes, could do homework together, and any excuse to spend time with Perry meant a lot to their relationship.

Six weeks in Florida together had cemented what MT knew was a solid, and very loving partnership. Just as he had expected, it wasn't just sex that brought them together. They shared the same desire for someone they could each depend upon. Even so, MT remembered fondly those warm nights in the rooftop cabana off the deserted sun deck. Wow.

The disrupted exploration they had set in motion on that campout in the Trogdon pasture was finally fulfilled in a moment of extreme passion under the stars. MT learned he could take as well as give, and what a mind blowing experience that was.

But here they were back in Trogdon where caution was the watchword and no one could be given the slightest reason to think they were anything but cousins and best friends. So now Teague and Trogdon stood in line to receive their class schedules and hope that fate would be kind in the selection of teachers they were allotted. Mrs. Baines, one of the counselors, sat behind the table when MT finally reached the front of the line.

"Hello, MT ... how was your summer?" She asked while looking for his schedule in the pile of paperwork.

"Everything was fine, Mrs. B. Did you finally get your daughter off to college?"

"Oh yes, she left last week. Drove up to North Carolina with her daddy while I was buried under all this paper ... oh, here we are," She said, pulling out his schedule. "Looks like a good one for you this year."

MT accepted the paper she handed over and smiled. "Thank you, Ma'am. Great. I have P.E. seventh period." He went to step aside and then paused. "Mrs. Baines, I'd like you to meet my cousin, Perry Trogdon."

Baines looked up at Perry with that same pleasant smile. "Hello, young man ... we've been expecting you."

"Thank you ... I guess," Perry said.

Baines chuckled. "I don't mean that in a bad way, Perry. It's just we haven't had a Trogdon in our school for the longest time ... not since your daddy was here. How is he doing by the way?"

Perry nodded. "My parents are divorced, Mrs. Baines ... I haven't seen him in years."

"Oh ... I'm sorry to hear that. Well ... ah, here's your schedule and it seems you and MT will share a few classes."

"Thank you," Perry said, and he took the paper from her hand.

"Since this is the first day of school you will have homeroom for the entire first period," Baines said. "Tomorrow homeroom meets after the first bell, and with the second bell you go off to your regular first period class."

"I'll remember that ... thanks."

Perry turned away from the table and followed MT across the gym towards the exit.

"She's a good resource," MT said. "I guess she felt bad after asking about your father."

"I'm over it," Perry said. "So why is it good to have P.E. in seventh period, and what classes do we share?"

"Seventh period means we don't have to shower after class. That ought to be good news to you because it means the assholes won't get a chance to snap their towels at your butt."

"Thank God for that," Perry said.

They compared schedules and decided they had English, Social Studies and History together. Perry had math first period while MT had science.

"You're taking calculus already?" MT asked.

"Yeah, I finished up trigonometry last year ... sorry, I find math an easy subject."

"Crap, I'm still in Algebra ... oh well, at least we have fourth period lunch," MT said.

"Howdy, gents," Leon said, appearing out of nowhere and looking over Perry's shoulder. "Hmm, lunch ... we can eat together."

"That works," MT replied. "So, second period is Social Studies ... Mrs. Zapel."

"Zapel, that's her real name?" Perry asked.

"I guess so, she's new."

Leon clapped Perry on the back. "Lots of new things around here this year. Have fun."

Perry watched Leon hurry up the hallway just as a bell rang.

"First bell ... we have two minutes to get to homeroom," MT said.

"Are we really eating lunch with Leon? I mean, that's okay, but at Altamont the black kids sorta kept to themselves."

"A lot of them do here as well, but not Leon and his crew ... they're different."

"A lot of us are different," Perry said, and he had that subtle smile MT loved to see.

"We can't let this thing distract us, Perry. School might be easier for you but I have to work at it. Let's get through this day and perhaps we can find time for a little homework session this afternoon." MT knew full well that none of the teachers would give homework the first week of classes.

The main hallways were laid out like a large cross. With the addition of new wings over the years the design pretty much became a large square with quarters allocated to the various grades. That meant the sophomores had most of their classes in one section of the school while the seniors kept to their own wing.

MT knew that they ought to avoid any contact with the seniors because that was where Jason had his gaggle of fools. But the center of the school was given over to the boy's and girl's gyms and the large cafeteria space. Lunch and P.E. might be the only places either MT or Perry might have problems, but then Leon would be around.

Homeroom lasted fifty minutes, the average length of an academic subject. There were the usual handouts: a school diagram, the student handbook, which listed rights and responsibilities, and a list of the various after school activities including sports.

Mr. Baldwin was their homeroom monitor. He was one of the physical education teachers and took the roll in a joking manner with comments about each of the students in the room. But the name Perry Trogdon was called out and Baldwin had nothing to say. He quickly moved on to Bobby Vaughn, who happened to be the new quarterback for the Junior Varsity football team.

"So Bobby ... tell us how you guys are going to do this year," Baldwin said. "I mean last year the JV was 0 and 10. Nowhere to go but up from that miserable showing. Think you'll manage to win a game this year?"

No one was more relieved when the bell rang to end the period than Bobby Vaughn. He was up and out of the classroom in a flash. MT chuckled about that, but he wasn't a critic, he'd never attended a game.

Mrs. Zapel turned out to be an attractive blonde in her first year of teaching. She was from Alabama and her accent was as thick as the backwoods in which she was born. But she was smart and made sure to introduce herself with a little speech about growing up on the farm and being the only one of her siblings to make it through college.

She sat on the front of her desk with a modest skirt hiding her legs from most of the boys who ogled her pert young body. MT and Perry sat beside one another in the third row and smiled at her accent as she asked:

"For most of you this will be your first time taking Social Studies so I'd like to ask: What do you think this class is all about? Just tell me your name when you respond and we'll give everyone a chance to answer."

A girl in the second row raised her hand. "Hello, Mrs. Zapel, my name is Nancy Boone. I think Social Studies will teach us about the way people live in our society. That could mean current events or even past events that changed the way we live."

"Very good," Zapel said, pointing at a boy in the back who had raised his hand.

"Avery Miller," the boy said. "Current events in society could mean anything from politics to religion. My brother said this used to be a class about civic responsibility."

Zapel nodded. "That's very true. We may very well delve into those subjects."

By the time they went around the room it was apparent that most students were aware that this was an election year and that politics was on everyone's mind. Perry suggested they should talk about the political issues that would affect the economics of the South; MT thought a good discussion of the unemployment issues should be a part of the course.

It was obvious that Zapel had no idea who Perry was or his relationship to the man who held the economics of Marsh County in the palm of his hand. She ended this little opening discussion by asking each student to bring in something they thought would inspire a good lesson for the rest of the class.

Third period was Algebra for MT and Natural Science for Perry. The course objectives for this science class were passed around and Perry looked with dismay at the subject matter. It wasn't that he didn't want to study geology and the nature of the elements, but he had done all this last year at Altamont.

Mr. Warner seemed like a nice enough guy and so Perry approached him with the question.

"I guess they just figured all tenth graders take this class," Warner said. "The only other science class offered this period is Mr. Trent's agricultural science, but you don't look like you're heading for a career in farming."

Perry smiled. "I don't know what I want, but I am a Trogdon."

Warner nodded. "You have a point there. I'm glad you told me. Let me take you next door to see Mr. Trent."

Trent was in the middle of passing out his course description when Warner called him out into the hallway. A quick discussion and Perry shifted into the new class with a promise to go inform Mrs. Baines after the bell. By the time the period ended Perry was glad he had spoken up because the subject seemed fascinating.

Agriculture was the life-blood of the valley, and most of the South for that matter. Perry figured if he was ever going to step into a role in the Trogdon companies this was a good place to start. But this class wasn't just all theory; they would be getting down and dirty later in the semester with field trips.

It didn't take Perry long to discover he was the youngest member of the class, and the only tenth grader. Of the eighteen kids in the room at least two-thirds of them were sons and daughters of farmers. That meant some of them were bound to live on Trogdon farms.

Ben Trogdon and his sons were not absentee landlords on the farms they owned. The company was very involved in the production of crops and livestock, working hard to apply the latest scientific methods to ensure a good yield. But it was Ben's method of management that earned him the respect and admiration of his farmers.

Twenty years ago Trogdon had formed a co-operative which gave his farmers a voice and some economic input. Each of the small farms participated as did the large commercial enterprises. It gave them buying power and bonuses for good work. Perry didn't know any of this, but he would soon find out.

The end of class was announced by a bell. Perry would have to get used to that noise since Altamont had never used them. But MT was waiting in the hallway and they made their way to the cafeteria. The serving line was backed up in the hall and so they would have to wait, which of course cut down on the amount of time they would have to eat.

"This is awful," Perry said. "We need to start bringing lunch."

"The food here is pretty good," MT replied. "But I get your point."

"I could have Bernice make something for the both of us, she won't mind."

"I don't want to be a bother," MT started to say, and then a hand slapped the back of his head.

"Hello, Marion...Did you kill anybody else this summer?"

The voice was all too familiar. Brian Finley, one of Jason's boys. MT turned to glare at the fool and wondered just what Brian thought he could get away with standing here surrounded by dozens of students. But rather than rise to the challenge MT smiled and looked at Brian with pity.

"Nope, didn't have the time," MT said.

Brian turned his gaze on Perry and frowned. "What the hell are you looking at?" He asked.

Perry didn't blink and glared at the older boy. "I'm not looking at anything ... well, nothing worth looking at anyway."

Brian leaned forward as if he was going to push Perry and instead found himself propelled into the wall. He spun around and found himself face to face with Leon.

"What are you trying to get started Finley?" Leon asked. "You haven't got a brain in your head. Didn't you hear? These boys have my protection so just clear on out of here before you get hurt."

"You're a fucking asshole, Ball," Brian said.

"I might just be all of that ... but you don't want to find out, do you?"

Leon's threat was enough to make Brian turn and walk away.

"Sorry, gents ... I'm running a little late today. The grapevine said Brian was looking for you," Leon said.

"You heard that?" MT asked.

"Oh yeah, I have ears all over school. So what's on the menu today?"

The next day Bernice would be asked to fix three lunches without realizing one of them was for her son. Leon was just as happy to eat out of a bag because it meant he would save three dollars a day of his lunch money.

By two-thirty that afternoon Perry was ready for the school day to end. Altamont had run sports and activity periods until almost five o'clock every afternoon, so getting out of school this early was a good deal. In his assessment, Marsh High School was just about everything MT had said it would be.

After lunch they had zipped through English and History class before meeting in the gym for Physical Education. Perry liked most of his teachers, although he was sure to be bored in English it wouldn't be the teacher's fault. But being allowed to change one class this semester was enough, he didn't want to face Baines again.

Mr. Albright taught the history class. He seemed like a good teacher and his tenure at the school preceded MT's attendance by at least a decade or two. But despite the gray hair and the quiet manner, Albright said he would introduce the class to Marsh County's piece of state history. That perked Perry right up because he knew that somewhere in the lessons would be a bit more of the Trogdon family history.

Because of that Perry and MT stopped at the teacher's desk on the way out of class.

"Thank you, Mr. Albright," Perry said. "I'm looking forward to the year with you."

Albright smiled and cleaned the chalk dust off his glasses with his tie. "Perry Trogdon. My, my ... the legacy goes on. Yes, I imagine there will be some things you might find very interesting. It depends upon how much of your family history you already know."

"My grandfather has a lot of things in his library you might find interesting," Perry said.

"You don't say? Yes, I imagine he must. We'll be covering our little part in the Civil War and your family was a big part of that as well."

"He has Aloysius Trogdon's journal," Perry said. "Perhaps he will let me loan it to you."

Albright didn't look shocked. "Lindsey Trogdon's son, yes, I know all about him. But don't you take any of your grandfather's books out of the house without his permission. I've read the copy your family gave the historical society, but it would be wonderful to see the original. You'll give my regards to your grandfather, won't you?"

"I certainly will, and I'll be sure to ask before I borrow any of his books," Perry said, and shook Mr. Albright's hand.

"Someone is looking for an 'A' in history," MT said when they reached the hallway.

Perry laughed. "I don't need to brown-nose a teacher for a good grade. Did you see how interested he looked when I mentioned the journal?"

"I had Albright for history last year," MT said. "He has a passion for the subject even if I didn't care much about the ancient Greeks or the Roman Empire. At least we get to study American history this semester and I like that."

Physical Education wasn't going to be likeable at all; at least not this half of the semester. They would be taking the health curriculum. Our Body, Ourselves was the name of the small textbook Mr. Baldwin passed out and all the boys groaned.

"Okay, okay ... I know, you plan to hate this class for the next eight weeks," Baldwin said. "But we will spend some time talking about the female anatomy so at least some of you will learn something new."

There was some embarrassed laughter after that. Most of the boys were either fifteen, or about to turn sixteen and few of them had any experience with the opposite sex. Only two boys in the class didn't laugh very hard. The Trogdon-Teague relationship had taught them both all they wanted to know on the subject of sex.

Elvira was talkative on the bus after school let out. She had a group of girls who sat at the front and they all jabbered away like a bunch of magpies. MT rode the bus all the way to the Trogdon estate where he would remain until almost supper time and then ride Perry's bike home. Tomorrow Perry would get off in town and ride his bike back to the estate. It seemed like a good system.

They walked up the driveway and around the mansion to the summerhouse which had become their private space. Soon, all too soon, the weather would turn cold and Perry would have to move into the main house. He wasn't looking forward to giving up his privacy, and the secret moments he shared with MT.

They entered the summerhouse, locked the door and stripped off their clothes. These moments of glorious sex seemed to express all the love that had developed over the summer. The touches, the reactions, and the bliss were all so familiar by now.

But they couldn't linger because Bernice would certainly know they were back and expect to see them, so they crawled into the shower.

"You were pretty brave in that confrontation with Brian," MT said.

Perry smiled. "I saw Leon running up the hall behind you. Boy did he look angry."

"Leon changed after he got shot. Before that he was a quiet, studious boy who generally avoided confrontation. He got away with that because of his size, but then that bullet changed everything. My father says he got radicalized like many of the black civil rights people in the sixties."

"Like Malcolm X and the Black Panthers ... is that what his gang is like now?" Perry asked.

"No, not at all. They really aren't a gang; it's more of a club. Ever since the Baptist churches joined together the old church in Lively Corners has become a community center. Reverend Jones has allowed Leon and his boys to hang out in the church basement, and they turned it into a teen club.

"Leon seems to have a calling that isn't quite religious but it is socially acceptable. The club holds teen dances, homework study programs and even a movie night here and there. Reverend Jones keeps an eye on things but he knows Leon Ball very well. There won't be any illegal or unacceptable activity while the Lively Boys run things."

"Lively Boys, what a great name," Perry said. "So they've taken us under their wing. Does Leon hang with any other white boys?"

"He liked Alvin. There might be one or two others around town. Why, you want to start socializing with them?"

"We could, but would they accept us?"

"Leon likes you, and that's a step in the right direction," MT said, turning off the shower. "We better get out of here before they come looking for us."

Bernice Ball was all smiles when they walked into the kitchen and the smell of her cooking seemed to fill the house. MT knew Ben Trogdon would invite him to stay for dinner, but he would have to go home. The man might not be his grandfather but he never treated MT as anything but family these days. Still, this had been only the first day of school and MT knew his parents would want to hear all about it at the dinner table.

"Something sure smells good," Perry said, giving voice to what both boys were thinking.

"Just some of that good home cookin," Bernice said.

"Hmm, smells like possum stew and greens," MT said.

"You're joking," Perry replied. "It isn't...is it, Bernice?"

MT and Bernice both laughed. Perry was such a pushover for jokes like this.

"Lord, no. What do you think I am? This ain't no backwoods kitchen," She said.

"Have you ever made possum stew?" Perry asked.

"Don't you be silly. Now get on outa here so I can do my job ... I think Mr. Trogdon is looking for you anyways.

Ben Trogdon was sitting in the library at his desk. By this time of life he probably should have had a secretary to keep track of the papers, but he still liked to review everything himself. Of course Richard kept the books on the business and Neil supervised the day to day operations. But Ben had been doing this for over forty years and old habits were hard to change.

"Good Afternoon, Pops," Perry said, "are we disturbing you?"

"No ... come on in. Hello there, MT," Trogdon said. "How was your day at school?"

"I think it went fine," Perry said. "I only had to change one class. I'm now taking agricultural science."

Trogdon smiled. "That makes a good deal of sense, good for you."

"Oh, Mr. Albright asked me to say hello. We have him for history. MT thinks he's a pretty good teacher."

"I agree with that," Trogdon said. "I think he's the best teacher in that school."

"Oh, why's that?" MT asked.

Trogdon sighed. "Norman Albright grew up on his grandmother's farm the other side of Fairview. I first met him when we both attended the State University down in Atlanta. He was planning to be a teacher and I knew where I was headed, but we both had an abiding interest in history.

"There was a symposium one weekend and we both attended. I remember this tall skinny fellow stood up and asked a question of the panel. There were some pretty famous people there that day, authors, historians and of course some of them were Northerners.

"The subject under discussion at the time was reconstruction after the Civil War had ended and Norman disagreed with one of the comments made by a panelist. His rebuttal was passionate and I felt he was absolutely right in his assessment of Yankee obstructionism. They were in no hurry to see the South rebuild."

"I had no idea you were so interested in history," Perry said.

"Trogdons made history, son ... it's in our blood. But I had Norman pegged as a true Southern gentleman that day, and I couldn't have been more mistaken. His daddy was a sharecropper and the boy had to work every day just to feed himself. But he was smart, Lordy be, he was the smartest young man I ever met.

"Can't say we exactly became friends, but he accepted my acquaintance and we were involved in several activities together. Then we graduated and I came home without a clue as to where Norman might go. And then fifteen years later he showed up again. He took a teaching job at the high school and joined the historical society."

"Where did he go? Did you ever find out?" MT asked.

"I did, but it took him a long time to tell me," Trogdon said. "He went in the Navy to see the world, and from what I gather he did just that. He wouldn't tell me exactly what job they gave him but I gather he did some secretive intelligence work, did his time and got out with enough money to go back to school.

Now Trogdon grinned. "He would never tell any of his students, but that man graduated from Harvard University darn near top of his class. Just what made him return to Marsh County we'll never know, but he leads a quiet life here and maybe that's the attraction."

"Wow, Harvard," MT said. "That's like the best school in the country."

"For some things it is, no doubt," Trogdon said.

"Is he married, does he have kids?" Perry asked.

"Not that I know of," Trogdon said.

"Oh ... .how do you know all this? Have you been spying on him?"

Trogdon laughed. "No ... but he does interest me. You have to imagine the reason why a sharecropper's son rose to such heights in the Navy and then walked away. That would have been a good career for him. But I never doubted he'd be a good teacher, I just wondered why."

"He seems to enjoy the idea of teaching a Trogdon," Perry said. "I think I'm going to enjoy the school."


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