A witty narrative from a man who has always lived under the shadow of his nemesis. One fine day, he decides to take the game in his control. His master plan involves seeking the help of the legend – Elvis Presley.
This isn’t a story about Elvis Presley. This is a story about Chuckie Walaach and me and Chuck’s wife, Carol. Carol should have been my wife but sometimes things don’t work out the way they should and so she became Chuck’s wife instead.
Carol got pregnant right after our senior year at Stimson High. It’s true that Carol and I hadn’t actually had a date since eighth grade but I would have married her anyway, even though I had plans for accounting school and I knew it couldn’t really be my baby. Even in junior high I’d been too much of a gentleman for something like that to happen. But not Chuckie Walaach. Carol admitted it was Chuck’s baby so he was the one got to marry her.
That’s pretty much Chuck Walaach in a nutshell. Unfortunate luck, I call it. During sophomore year the senior quarterback pulled a groin muscle coming over the console in Tamara Newsome’s father’s mustang and knocked himself out of four games. Chuck wound up getting the credit for the whole winning season. When it came time to cast for the year end Stimson High Musical, they needed a beefy type lead and because Petey Boyd Beasley had laryngitis, who do you suppose got the part over yours truly? Chuckie Walaach.
Don’t get me wrong, I have to admit that even then he had an unusual voice. Deep, sort of croony and slurred like he’d just had a mouthful of something the rest of us would never be lucky enough to taste. Chuck always got the babes, even Carol. I rest my case. Girls are the reason he got to be class president, too. Brawn for brains should have been his platform. Tight jeans and duck ass hair.
But all that happened about twenty years ago. I’m a mature man, forgive and forget. Except. Because of Carol’s indelicacy right out of high school, Chuck’s father took him immediately into the family business and made him a junior executive. Meantime, I went off to college where I was doing fine until my father shredded his foot with the wheat combine and my mother took ill with a rare type of swine breeder’s syndrome and I had to come home to help out. There’s only one place off a farm in Stimson to work: the Walaach School Bus Body Manufacturing Plant.