The Case Against William Read Online Free PDF Page B

expensive
wine.
    "Gag
order, Sid."
    "I
can't believe you're representing a Republican."
    Sid
was a rich Democrat—Houston was a Democratic holdout in the state of Texas—but
his children attended this elite private school so they wouldn't have to sit
next to the brown children of poor Democrats in the public schools.
    "I'm
representing an innocent person."
    "She's
guilty of being a Republican."
    The
other team kicked off. The Academy player fumbled the ball. The opponents
recovered and scored on the next play.
    "Wow,"
William said. "They're terrible."
    The
team was terrible. But the boys were nice. The coaches were nice. The
parents were nice. No one was disappointed in their play because no one
expected them to win.
    "We
may not have scored in two years," Sid said from behind, "but ten of
our students aced the SAT this year."
    The
apparent purpose of public high schools in Texas was to produce the best
football players in the country. And they did. Division I-A college football
coaches from across America journeyed each fall to Texas to fill their
rosters. They did not stop at the Academy. Athletics at the Academy were
employed to build character and camaraderie among the student body, not to
produce D-I athletes. And they did not. No student in the fifty-year history
of the school had ever won a D-I athletic scholarship. The Academy was a
top-ranked academic school, not a top-ranked athletic school. Consequently,
every season was a losing season. This season was no exception. But the
parents still came to the games, and the cheerleaders still cheered.
     
"Two bits, four bits,
Six bits, a dollar.
All for the Armadillos,
Stand up and holler."
    No
one stood. The students were engrossed in their electronic devices, and their
parents in conversation about politics and the stock market. Of course, it was
hard to get fired up for a football team called the Armadillos. But Frank
stood, threw his arms over his head as if to start a wave, and yelled, "Go
'Dillos!" Becky laughed from the sideline then hid her face behind her
pompoms. His wife glanced up at him as if he were insane. But then, she wore
perfume to a football game.
    "It's
over on Inwood," she said to the equally perfect mother sitting next to
her. "It's only eight thousand square feet, but we don't want something
too big. Just enough room for a charity event."
    Frank
and William were watching the game; she was climbing the social ladder. She
had never been off-stage since her first beauty pageant in high school. She
always looked perfect, sat perfect, stood perfect. Perfect clothes, perfect
posture, perfect makeup, perfect hair. As if she were still competing for a
crown. Perhaps she was.
    "We
want cozy."
    William
heard. He turned to Frank, made a face, and mouthed, "Cozy?"
    Frank
shrugged then held an open hand out to him. They high-fived.
    Elizabeth
Tucker saw the envy in her friend's eyes. The same envy that had once resided
in her own eyes. She had grown up on the wrong side of Houston with nothing.
She hated being poor. She always looked at the society section of the
newspaper, at the parties and social events and the beautiful people, and
wondered what their lives must be like. To have something in life. When she
began driving, she would often cruise the streets of River Oaks in the old
family car. One day, she had always said. One day.
    One
day had come.
    She
had caught her husband's look when she said, "cozy." He didn't
understand her. She had grown up in a family of nobodies. She needed to be
somebody. He apparently did not. He was almost famous, like a B movie star,
but he seemed not to care. He had no desire to become an A-lister in Houston.
She burned with such desire.
    To
be somebody.
    But
he made the money she needed to be somebody. To live in River Oaks, on the
right side of Houston, in a house worthy of somebody. To make the society
section. To be envied by others.
    William
focused on the football field. His buddies spent the games chasing each