Wealth Pt 01

Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*****

Chapter 1

Brother Dominick parked in the rear parking lot of St. Elizabeth Parish's Trauma Center. He admired the five story building; all glass and steel; a truly modern structure.

He could remember when the land he was now standing on had been a field of tall grass. He could remember playing in the undeveloped land with his older brother Anthony and their cousins Chris Dumas and Terry Fontenot. Cowboys and Indians. Army. Bad guys and Good guys.

On the rare occasions that the parish would cut the grass, they'd play football. They'd round up five or six guys from the neighborhood and get a real rough and tumble game going. They'd keep score, of course, but would forget what the score had been the next time they'd meet.

He sighed, mopped the heavy beads of sweat from his forehead and walked to the building.

"I am really getting too old for this," he thought to himself as he rode the elevator to the fifth floor, to the administration offices.

"Miss Lambert?" he asked an effeminate man.

"Is she expecting you?" the man lisped and Brother Dominick fought down his repulsion.

"No, no, please just ask her if I could have a moment of her time," he asked. "If she's too busy, I'll gladly make an appointment.

Inside her office, Paula Lambert tried unsuccessfully to put her hair back into the thick bun that her lover, Terry Dayton had so effortlessly given her that morning. Finally she gave up and whipped her head around to shake it out.

"Mith Lamberth," Grover, her assistant lisped into the intercom.

"Yes?" Paula asked, fighting her annoyance.

She didn't have a problem with Grover's homosexuality; she was homosexual. It was his flamboyant mannerisms that got under her skin. She didn't shy away from it; if asked, she openly admitted to being in a loving relationship with another woman. But she did not flaunt her homosexuality, did not demand that others tolerate her lifestyle.

"There'th a Bwother Dominick would like a moment of your time," Grover sneered.

"Brother... Send him in," Paula said, getting to her feet.

"Hello, Miss... Oh my goodness!" Brother Dominick said, and then broke into a large smile as he confronted a former student of St. Thomas Aquinas.

"Hi!" she gushed and gave the large man a tight embrace.

"Oh my goodness, now I KNOW it's time for me to retire," he said, easing himself into a soft chair.

"What can I do for you?" she asked, taking the other visitor's chair.

He launched into his spiel, a plea for money for the school.

"We generally have two or three students that are charity cases," he said. "But with..."

He looked pointedly around the room.

"The addition of St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center," he went on. "We now have twelve applicants that qualify for assistance; our parish is growing. Unfortunately, though, some are finding that, while we are growing, their paychecks are not."

"Okay," Paula said, got to her feet and pulled a large binder off of a shelf that stood behind her desk. "How much do you need?"

"Well, each student is ten thousand..." he intoned.

"Okay," Paula said and quickly scribbled out a check. "Really wild you would show up today; just yesterday our head accountant was telling me we needed to look into some charitable causes."

"Each dollar that you can give will be put to good use," Brother Dominick went on.

"Oh, and here; get them some uniforms, okay?" Paula said and wrote out a second check from her own checkbook.

"Thank you," Brother Dominick smiled as she slid both pieces of paper across the desk.

"A hundred..." he gasped, looking at the checks for the first time.

"And if you go to Young Insurance, right down the street," Paula smiled as the man's eyes goggled at the amounts she'd written. "You'll find five more graduates of St. Thomas; go Avengers! See what they're willing to do, huh? Remind them that this hospital is one of their biggest customers."

"Oh thank God I'm already in the hospital; I'm sure I'm having a heart attack," he gasped as he again verified; one check for one hundred thousand dollars and a second check for ten thousand dollars.

"I was mowested by a pwiest," Grover sneered as Brother Dominick left Paula Lambert's office.

"Really? That's not the way he tells it," Brother Dominick said to the ridiculous young man.

In a trailer only nine streets away from the Trauma Center, eighteen year old Anita Michelle Lopez sat, unaware that her life had just gotten better. She lazily scratched at a pimple, trying to find something to watch on the old television.

Most days, the television could pick up the four major networks that were broadcast out of Lafayette, Louisiana, as well as the independent station, Channel 12 out of DeGarde. On a cloudy day, the signal from Channel 26 out of Elgee would bounce off of the cloud cover and they could get that station.

But it was a cloudless day and for whatever reason, NBC wasn't cooperating, so she could only get ABC, CBS, FOX, and Channel 12.

"What's on?" her mother, Louisa Lopez asked as she waddled her three hundred and two pound bulk through the living room toward the kitchen.

"Nothing," Anita mumbled.

"Oh, hey, there's that 'Cast Iron Stomach' show," Louisa said.

"Yeah, but it's a rerun," Anita complained.

"Oh? Which one this is? Louisa asked.

"That one where he's at that 'Back Yard Barbeque,'" Anita said, dropping the remote onto the table in disgust.

"Ooh, right down the street? Which I'd know he was there, I'd have gone there," her mother said.

"And done what? Huh? And done what?" Luther Knox demanded.

The thirty five year old Louisa glared at her fifty two year old boyfriend as he scratched his immense belly.

"Anything that man wants," she sneered.

"Where you going?" Luther demanded as Anita walked to the door.

She didn't answer him; he was not her father. Instead, she simply shrugged; a movement that made her braless breasts jiggle in the loose tee shirt she wore.

The sweltering June heat almost pushed her back into the trailer, but Anita remembered she had two dollars she'd stolen out of her older half-brother's wallet the other day, so decided to go down to the Time Saver convenience store for an Icee.

Her tee shirt hung down below the far too short shorts she wore, But Anita didn't care about her appearance. Most people rarely noticed her, with her long, frizzy black hair, sharp nose and heavily acned skin. If they did notice her, it was below her neck.

Her breasts were large orbs; she wasn't sure how large. Her last bra had been a size thirty four Double D and she hated wearing it because it was too snug. Her waist was thirty inches around, and her hips flared out to a very womanly thirty five inches. Her legs were well muscled from hours of walking and were well tanned from hours in the sunlight.

Standing at five feet, three inches, the same height of her mother, her physique was an attractive one. As was the physique of many other girls in the neighborhood and in her school where English was not the primary language of most of the student population.

Because of her face, which was not ugly, but certainly was not beautiful, Anita did not garner much attention.

"Hey girl," Anita called out to a neighbor as the girl walked out of the convenience store.

"Hey," the girl called back, and then got into her boyfriend's car.

"Who's that?" her boyfriend asked, looking at Anita's chest.

"Shit, some girl, goes to my school," the girl shrugged.

The frozen drink machine was still broken, so a dejected Anita walked back to her trailer.

Marco, her half-brother, was sitting in her chair, openly gawking at the television as the girls from Shapes Fitness Center did their daily thirty minute exercise show. The camera operator was obviously male; the camera spent a great deal of time focused on Lycra-covered crotches or rear ends.

"You need to do that," Marco sneered, grabbing a painful handful of Anita's slightly pudgy middle. "You getting kind of fat there."

Louisa had to break the two combatants apart. Marco was fortunate their mother stepped in when she did; he was definitely getting the worst of the fist fight.

In his office at DeGarde High School, Dr. Desmond, the principal of the public high school, was finishing the tuna salad his wife had prepared for him. She hated the smell of tuna fish, so she often dumped the entire can into the mixture, which is why it took him so long to eat the simple meal.

The inside phone line rang and he answered.

"Same as last year; my Bulldogs emerge victorious over your pathetic little Avengers, you wash my car," he said in way of greeting.

"Uh huh, and who's car got washed the last three years in a row?" Brother Dominick laughed.

Brother Dominick got down to business; because of Paula's incredible generosity, and because of the generosity of other donors, he now had a largess of funds.

"Two eighth graders," Dr. Desmond said, rapidly flipping through his files on the nearly obsolete computer.

He located the files he wanted, two twin girls that would benefit much more from St. Thomas Aquinas' curriculum.

"And..." he mused, searching through his seniors data.

"Anita Michelle Lopez; does okay in classes, never been in trouble, just a real good kid," he declared.

"Okay, post their files to..." Brother Dominick said, knowing full and well that Dr. Desmond would have to fax the files over.

"You son of a bitch; quit messing with me, huh?" Dr. Desmond laughed.

A few moments later, the seven students' files came over the fax machine.

"You're the only reason I even keep that fax machine, you do know that, huh?" Brother Dominick confirmed receipt of the files.

"And you're the only reason I keep mine," Dr. Desmond said. "Everyone else is happy with regular mail these days."

Chapter 2

Even at seven ten that August Monday morning, the humidity was sweltering. Anita stood and waited for Bus one fifty six that would take her to her new school. She turned whenever a car passed, not wanting any of her friends to see her in her St. Thomas Aquinas High School uniform.

She would have been shocked, and more than just a little hurt to find out that none of her friends or acquaintances would have cared one bit.

The bus ground to a halt and Anita let the three younger students get on before her.

"Good morning," the white haired man smiled.

"Morning," Anita agreed.

The bus looked brand new; Anita would have been shocked to find out it was actually thirty one years old. The seats were upholstered; there were no torn seats, there was no foam rubber hanging out. The windows were all intact; none were broken, none refused to close fully. There was no gang graffiti scrawled on any of the seats, rear of the seats, or sides of the bus. There was no stench of cigarette smoke, or marijuana smoke.

She sat down and again was gripped with fear.

Suppose she didn't like the new school? Suppose she didn't fit in?

"You going there 'cause you too stupid for DeGarde," Marco had taunted.

"Make better grades than you," she shrilled, ready to fight.

Suppose Marco was right, though? Suppose she was too stupid for this school?

The bus lumbered through the streets of DeGarde, then Bender, picking up students. Soon, the bus was packed with screaming, squealing, laughing teenagers.

Outside of St. Thomas Aquinas, Antoinette 'Toni' Delacroix stood with her boyfriend, Boyd Eastman, and greeted returning friends.

"Look!" the eighteen year old girl shrieked. "There's Susan!"

"Uh huh, and there's Jeremy; stuck up her butt," Boyd sneered, slouching against the wall.

"Susan!" Toni called out, waving.

"Susan!" Boyd imitated Toni.

Susan Couvillion, an attractive brunette looked over and waved back.

"Oh shut up!" Toni laughed, slapping Boyd's arm.

The two girls hugged and kissed, then, holding hands ran back to where Boyd slouched. They chattered animatedly while keeping an eye out for other friends.

"Hey, Boyd, how's it going?" Jeremy Leblanc, a very pudgy eighteen year old boy asked.

Boyd sneered at the unpopular boy, and then turned his back to him.

"Caitlin! Over here!" Toni called out.

"Hey, girl!" Caitlin Weinstein, a slender freckle faced red head called back.

"Aw yeah, check out that!" Jeremy said as students spilled off of Bus 156.

Boyd swiveled his head in time to see an impressive set of breasts heading their way.

"Fuck! Look at the tits on that bitch!" Boyd agreed.

"Shut up!" Toni screamed at her boyfriend.

She knew she was flat chested; knew the only reason she wore a bra at all was because the Students Handbook demanded it.

Toni's blonde curls was cut short, providing a cute cap surrounding her round face. Her light blue eyes, snub nose, and generous mouth had many declaring that Antoinette Delacroix was the prettiest girl in St. Thomas Aquinas High School.

At five foot four, she was the perfect height to be a cheerleader, and because of her slender build, she was often the cheerleader at the top of the human pyramid, the girl that was tossed into the air. She had a twenty nine inch chest, a twenty four inch waist, and a thirty inch rear end.

"Uh huh, and look at all the zits too," Susan came to her friend's defense.

"Bag over her head," Boyd said, and then nodded in greeting to Sherman Loomis.

Susan pointedly turned her back to Sherman Loomis and the tall African American male simply shrugged his shoulders.

Anita clutched the paperwork and looked around.

There was no loud music blaring or thumping. The exterior walls of the building were clean, free of graffiti. There was no smell of cigarette or marijuana smoke. There were no fist fights; there were no knives being pulled out, no one screaming, no one crying.

Sister Lucy and Sister Beatrice were out in the parking lot, directing the human traffic. Anita cautiously approached Sister Beatrice; she looked less formidable.

"Seniors are in room two ten, second hallway," the woman smiled, pointing to the entrance of the school.

"And locker number...?" Anita asked, but Sister Beatrice was already speaking with another student.

The hallway was yet another culture shock to Anita. The walls gleamed white; the lockers were painted Cardinal Red. The floors were a black and white checkerboard pattern, and looked freshly waxed. All the light fixtures worked and had fluorescent bulbs in them, all lighted.

She found her locker, 118, and the hasp worked. The door swung open noiselessly, and the lock actually secured the door.

She found the homeroom and saw that the clock inside the room was working and she still had another twenty minutes before class. So she looked at her schedule and found her second class and her third class.

The gymnasium, she deduced, must be the second building, but the clock in the third classroom told her she did not have time to go looking.

She again entered room 210 and took a seat at the rear of the room.

Outside, Sister Lucy was grateful to hear the first buzzer sound. The cacophony of students was beginning to grate on her nerves.

"Come on, come on, let's go," she ordered, waving the students on. "Five minutes, let's go."

Toni glared white hot hatred as Boyd made a point of going up to the new girl and greeting her. Sherman Loomis, already on Susan's grudge list, also greeted the new girl.

Sister Andrea came in just as the last bell buzzed and launched into the same lecture she had given to the class of two thousand and twelve, the class of two thousand and eleven, the class of all the way back to nineteen eighty seven; Senior year was a time of celebration, but it was also a time of very serious reflection and very serious decision making.

"Class of two thousand thirteen yeah!" Brett Bowman called out, eliciting a cheer from nearly everyone in the room.

"Yes Mister Bowman, not even ten minutes into the new school year and you have your first detention," Sister Andrea declared.

"Is that a record?" he asked, smiling as he accepted the Detention slip.

"No, gave one to a student in the parking lot before the first bell even sounded," Sister Andrea admitted. "Better luck next time, Mister Bowman."

"I'll work on it," he promised.

Anita blushed hotly as Sister Andrea introduced her to the class, and then appointed Pam Hutchinson as her 'buddy,' a friend to show Anita around.

Pam Hutchinson, an unpopular girl, unpopular because of her nearly one hundred and forty pounds of excess fat, unruly brown hair, and overbearing, self-centered personality, silently thanked Sister Andrea. Maybe this would be the year she would get a friend.

The buzzer for First Period sounded and the students filed out of the class. Pam took Anita's papers and squinted at the page.

"Oh, okay, you've got World Economics first period; I've got Calculus, that's such a hard class; I really don't know how I'm going to do in tat class, but oh well, what are you going to do?" Pam bubbled as she looked at Anita's paperwork.

"Oh, excuse me," Toni said as she rudely bumped into Anita, shoving her out of the way.

Pam unwittingly blocked Anita's punch, a punch that would have leveled Toni.

"Okay, I'll come get you after my Calculus class lets out," Pam said, making sure that Anita and whoever was listening know that she had Calculus class.

"Hey, Bitch, do that shit again, I fuck you up, feel me?" Anita hissed at the smirking Toni, very quickly flashing her blade.

Toni stared in open mouthed shock; no one had ever dared speak to her like that. And no one had ever brandished a weapon of any sort before.

Anita took a seat at the rear of the class; keeping the smug little blonde beauty and any friends the blonde girl might have out where she could see them.

"Money, huh?" Coach Fred Dumas called out, hitting the 'play' button on his boom box.

Pink Floyd's song 'Money' came thumping out.

"Hey, I know that song," Jeremy Leblanc said.

Anita struggled to keep up, scribbling as fast as she could. The teacher was able to talk about his subject, did not have to stop to break up any fights, and did not have to yell to be heard over the students.

Her head was buzzing when the bell sounded, but she still kept a wary eye on Toni.

Earth Sciences also kept her busy; Mr. Cousins obviously had a real love of the subject.

In Physical Education class, Anita found out that the class was not just a time to socialize, to score drugs, to have sex. It was actually a time to put on the polyester red gym shorts and gleaming white tee shirt that had 'St. Thomas Aquinas' emblazoned across in big red letters, and run around the gymnasium, chasing after a ball.

She found out that she was actually pretty good at basketball. She found out that the blonde bitch was also pretty good but because they were on the same team, she couldn't use that as an excuse to knock the bitch on her ass.

Shamefaced, Anita simply took off her P.E. uniform and put on her school uniform, not having towel or soap to shower.

The cafeteria was another shock; they got into line and were served. There was no concession stand selling hamburgers, tacos, pizzas. They were given a carton of milk; there was no soda machine visible anywhere. Anita watched as Pam purchased a second milk.

"We get this every day?" Anita asked Pam as she scooped up the red beans and rice.

"No; Tuesday's spaghetti day and Wednesday's..." Pam launched into the foods of the cafeteria.

Anita listened; it was obvious that Pam missed very few meals.

"Fridays are the worst, though," Pam said. "Tuna salad? They ought to just call it pickle salad, I swear!"

At a table not far away, Boyd unwittingly put Anita further on Toni's grudge list by asking everyone at their table if they'd witness how Anita's breasts bounced when she ran in Physical Education class.