Title: "Revelations: Part 3 of 14"        

         March 12th, 2000
         5:46 PM

         Inside of the City Hall in Berkeley, California, Mayor Charles Clemson was in a panic. As the short, round man walked down the halls of the structure, the echoes that encompassed him confirmed the sweat that was beginning to form on his forehead. He slowly came to a halt at the door to the Public Relations department. With a quick twist of the handle, he stepped into the secretary's lobby.

         He glanced around at the room. There were no waiting lines. No one was waiting outside of any rooms. Just the secretary busily filing papers. That was the one he needed to see. "We've had a week to prepare!" He walked to her desk, shooting his arms out and resting them on the desk. "Please tell me that we'll be on time." The expression on the mayor's face was almost one of a desperate plea.

         From behind her desk, the secretary sealed a stack of papers inside of her drawer. She confidently turned her head back to the mayor. "Yes sir. Specially made, and will be finished by tomorrow." She gave him an assuring smile. "That gives a day in advance to have it. Rest assured sir, it will be ready for when he gets here."

         The mayor let out a deep breath. The sigh spoke larger than words for how accepted her response had been. "Ok! Ok, I'm just stressing a little. This is one man who has put so much into the city. We can't be late on what we promised him." He raised his arms off of the table and clasped his hands in confidence.

         The secretary reached for another stack of papers that still needed to be filed. She had no worries. She had to strongly convey that same attitude to the mayor. "It will be on time, Mayor Clemson. You are working with some of the best here in Berkeley. Mr. Balmore will receive it right on time as expected."

         A broad smile quickly stretched across the mayor's face. He could finally rest. He would undoubtedly be back to her desk tomorrow for a reconfirmation, just as he had been in her office the preceding day as well, but for that day he was satisfied. He knew he wouldn't be able to rest until the day had come and gone, and the presentation was over, though.

         The mayor, temporarily finished with having his confidence renewed in his staff, turned back to the door. His hands were still clasped in the present day's assurance. Stopping at the door, he turned back around, and spoke one last time to the secretary. "This is the biggest man in the city. I am sure he will appreciate it." The words had a ring to them that once again begged for reassurance.

         The secretary knew that as well. "I am most sure he will, Mayor Clemson." She didn't even need to look up from her paperwork.

         The mayor turned back to the door. The grin on his face was enough to cause stretch marks. He didn't care. He was relieved. His big plans were coming out just as he had hoped. Soon, everything would fall into place. Soon, he would be able to live the moment that was fast approaching.

* * * * *

         The nighttime had fallen in Berkeley, California. Karl Simmons' house lights had been off for nearly an hour. He had barely been able to make it to his bed before he passed out for the night. The unsuspecting phone call did not care. It's ring pierced through the dark halls. It rang, and then rang again. On the fifth ring, Karl Simmons emitted a string of mumbled swears as he stumbled into the living room. A fairly large guy -he was the center for the old Berkeley High football team over half a decade previous-; Karl fell to the couch. He picked up the receiver as he landed.

         "Hello?" The alcohol-induced breath of Karl could not penetrate the phone, but it slurred his speech just slightly. Add to that the exhaustion and haze of just waking up, and he would be almost impossible to decipher.

         "Karl, man, it's me!" The voice on the other end of the phone was ecstatic! It was definitely someone who knew Karl, though.

         "Huuuh? Who is this?" Karl was still trying to awake from the sleep he had previously been in due to his alcohol consumption. His head was starting to throb from even talking into the phone. "I'm a little slow right now. Who is this?"

         "It's me, man!" The voice retained the excitement that it had first displayed. "It's been over a year, but it's me! Theodore Balmore!" Suddenly, the headache started to fade away from Karl's head. Was it Theodore Balmore? Could it really be? Karl wondered if he was perhaps still sleeping. Was he dreaming, or was Theodore really on the phone? He had been the fullback for the old Berkeley High football team, before going on to Berkeley University where he dominated, and eventually was a second round pick to the Dallas Cowboys. To add to that was also his close friendship with Karl Simmons. "Theodore? Is it you?" Karl knew it had to be. "Dorey! Well, doesn't this shit lighten a day! I haven't been able to talk to you in forever!"

         A deep sigh came over the phone line. Karl listened, and Theodore spoke back up. The excitement wasn't as high as it had been, but Theodore was still talking anxiously. "Karl, man, it feels good to be able to talk to you again! To even here you call me that again sounds so perfect! Three years in Dallas, minimal time back home in Berkeley. You miss that stuff. But, I'm coming back home for good now!"

         Karl tried to squelch a burp, but only succeeded halfway. He was trying to wake up and understand why exactly Theodore would be coming back to Berkeley for good now. But not even the alcohol could make him forget the accident that had happened in January. It had been news in Berkeley. It was front-page news. "Reeee-ally? Is it the knee?" Karl tried to speak seriously when he said it.

         On the phone, Theodore went quiet for a brief moment. He took a deep sigh before he responded the question he knew would come sooner or later...hopefully later. "Well, yes. The doctors had said that the cut tendon was pretty bad. I've had surgery on it, but my future in pro football is finished."

         Karl tried to straighten himself up on the couch. For as long as he had known Theodore, or Dorey as he had always called him, had set his sights on a pro football career. Through high school and into his athletic scholarship funded career at Berkeley University, Theodore had had dreams of being a fullback in pro football. His dream had come true when the Dallas Cowboys drafted him in the second round. The signing had been covered on national television, the bonus had been enormous, and quickly Theodore Balmore's status grew even larger inside of Berkeley.

         Now, though, it had suddenly came to a crashing halt. While rushing the football during the course of a game, Theodore had been hit wrong and a tendon in his knee was torn and cut. It was at that moment that Theodore Balmore's hopes and dreams had came to a crashing halt, and his pro football career was over.

         As Karl thought of that, he found it hard to reply back to Theodore. Even under a slight influence, he knew he should be careful in talking to a man whose dreams had been shattered in an instant. "Dorey, man, I had heard about what had happened. I'm sorry man. I'm not sure what to say."

         Suddenly, Theodore's moral seemed to shoot straight up over the phone line. Someone had to keep moral high. Leave it to Theodore, who had always kept people entertained somehow. "Well damn it, say something that's cheerful!" He snipped a laugh in there. "I'm coming back to Berkeley; I'm coming back for a homecoming! You of all people should have something good to say to me no matter how much alcohol you've had!"

         So Karl hadn't been able to hide the alcohol influence after all. But, his friend seemed to be in good spirits, so he felt he should be, too. He could sleep later. His best friend who he hadn't talked to in ages was on the phone. "Man, it's going to be great to have you back in Berkeley for a change!"

         The energy was returning in Theodore's voice. "I can't wait. I'm boarding the plane tomorrow and heading out." He paused for a moment, obvious even over the phone that he was grinning and thinking. "There's one certain thing that I want to find out when I get there, though. Karl, tell me, how has my little brother Patrick been doing here lately?"

         A little grin passed over Karl's face. He knew that Theodore would ask it sooner or later. "Dorey, he's modeled after your own heart." Karl chuckled a little over the phone. "He graduated high school last year, but he's been going non-stop ever since. Got him a good paying job and everything."

         "How about that girl? Erica, I think that's her name. How's he fairing with her now? I remember the last time I talked to him, he said he had her eating out of his hand!"

         Karl couldn't help but chuckle again. "Dorey, he's after your own heart. I think he's about tired of her by now. But he'll just pick up the next one on the list. He's got that power, just like you did. He just stepped right into the large shoes that you left, and he's been filling them proudly ever since!"

         Theodore laughed over the line. "That's my little brother, that's Patrick. I knew I had trained him well."

         Karl didn't even have to respond to know that he agreed with that. The sleep was kicking back at him, though. A long, deep yawn came over him. He couldn't hang up on good 'ol Dorey, though. No, not his friend, his best friend. He was his role model. He tried to continue talking, hoping it would make the sleepiness go away. "Things definitely haven't been the same since you left, I'll tell you that."

         A sly smirk came over the phone line. Theodore was still thinking back to everyone that he had been missing in Berkeley. "But, I'm wondering about one other person. What about that kid? You remember him, Karl? Small kid, really reserved, kind of strange. Remember him? He was the kid who I chose to make as my torment toy while growing up. What was his name? Kent? No, that wasn't it. It was . . . Lint, Lint Douglas. Whatever happened to good 'ol 'Zero'?"

         Karl laughed out loud. Yes, the guy that Theodore had went out of his way just to torment while growing up. How was Zero doing? How could Karl even think that Theodore would hang up before saying something in regards to Zero, who was now fully grown like the rest of them? "You know, Dorey, I take back what I said earlier. Some things, well, they just never change!"

         Over the phone line, laughter broke out. Theodore filled the phone line with his sentimental laugh of old times. Karl, despite his weariness, couldn't help but echo a healthy laughter himself.

* * * * *

         "Lucky, how about today?" The look in Matt Lee's eyes was, once again, knowing he'd be refused but knew it wouldn't hurt to try again. He looked across the counter at Lucky, the owner of Lucky's bar. Lucky was pretty lax in rules of his bar. Despite the California laws that forbid smoking inside of bars and clubs, cigarette smoke adorned the inner walls of the Lucky's Bar. But there was one thing Lucky wouldn't do; he wouldn't sell alcohol to someone under the age of 21. Matt checked in right at 19 years old, being only one year out of high school.

         "Just something for conversation sake." Matt threw a crooked grin at Lucky. Lucky just smiled and shook his head.

         The thing about Lucky was that despite being the owner of a small bar in Berkeley, California, he was also a recovering Alcoholics Anonymous member. He had given up on drinking four years earlier, but still loved the life of owning his own bar. He didn't let his sobriety amongst drinkers be a hindrance, though. In fact, he was usually the one that people came to when they had a problem to discuss. Lucky was an excellent listener and an even better solutionist. But he couldn't freely allow others to start on the road of drinking before they were legally allowed to. At least, in his power, he wouldn't allow it. He had seen the effects through his own life, and wanted to make sure that a person was old enough before they started drinking, too.

         "I'm sorry Matt, it's just that ya aren't old enough. You know how I feel on that." The slow southern draw, something that people might have foundd odd in California, was something that people had grown accustomed to in the sound of the man's voice. Almost six years earlier, he had moved from Vicksburg, Mississippi, to Berkeley, California. He still had not been able to shake the slow accent that was accustomed to people from the south, though.

         Matt looked across the counter at the rather short man. He watched as Lucky's mustache bounced up and down while he chewed on the cigar in his mouth. "All right, I understand. Just thought that maybe I could give it another try today." His crooked grin continued. "Well, what's been going on lately, Lucky?"

         Lucky exhaled a small patch of cigar smoke, and, while scratching a spot on the balding top of his head, responded, "I tell you, Matt, everyone's talkin' 'bout Theodore Balmore. He's busted his 'ol knee up too bad for him to ever play football again, so I guess he's just tryin' to get a hometown crowd to make him feel above everyone else again. He's s'posed to be comin' in tomorrow. I hear the mayor has something lined up for him to celebrate the return of the kid. I think it's all a load of bullshit if ya ask me, though."

         Matt ran his hand through his short, black hair. He had heard of Theodore Balmore. More of in stories that Zero told him than anything else, though. But he remembered how the news had been in a storm to report the signing of Theodore to the Cowboys three years earlier. Matt figured Theodore was coming out to now be a pretty big celebrity figure in Berkeley. "I've heard of him, although mainly in brief conversation. All he and his kind were to me, though, were just some arrogant football jocks running down the halls. If he's supposed to be celebrated by coming back to Berkeley, I don't see the big deal in it. He's only a football player, or, ex-football player."

         Lucky opened his mouth to reply, but a customer had walked in. Lucky turned to go serve him. He glanced back over to Matt, though, telling him to hold on. Matt sat there, fiddling his thumbs a little, staring behind the counter at the rows of various alcohol containers. His stare was broken, though, as Lucky quickly made his way back over to Matt.

         "You're right, Matt. They think he's some kind of big guy. But the truth be told, he's no different than you or me. He's just in a higher profile position. It's gone to his head, that's what I think."

         Matt, with his eyes wandering back over to the bottles of alcohol, replied to Lucky, "To tell you the truth, I think he's been that way his whole life. At least, from the stories I hear about him from when he was growing up, he doesn't seemed to have changed any in growing up."

         Lucky knew where Matt was going with that statement. "I'll wager that you've been talking to Zero."

         Matt's eyes moved away from the alcohol, back to looking into Lucky's cigar chewing face. "You got it."

         Lucky scratched at that same spot on his balding head. "What does he think of this whole thing? I haven't seen that kid in it seems like forever. When ya see him again, tell him he needs to get out some more. Tell him Lucky wanted to talk to him."

         Matt started to speak slowly. "I'll tell him. The thing is, he's been keeping to himself here lately. To tell you the truth, I haven't even seen him lately. It's like he's in an identity crisis right now. He doesn't know where he's going or where he even wants to go. In fact, I think he no longer even wants to be called Zero. I think he just wants to be Lint Douglas again."

         Lucky lowered his hand from his head, thumping the ashes off the cigar with his other hand. "What makes ya say that?"

         Matt thought over it slightly. "I don't know, Lucky, I just don't know. All I do know is something isn't normal in his life. And to be honest with you, I couldn't even tell you what it is. Zero's not being the usual Zero that you and I know."

         Lucky cocked an eyebrow over to Matt. He didn't know what to think of it, no more than Matt did.

        Matt took the opportunity to ask once more. "Are you sure I can't have just one...oh, forget about it."