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BOOMERS RESTAURANT

BILOXI, MISSISSIPPI

EARLY AFTERNOON

18 JUNE

 Tommy and Molly are in a family restaurant next to the Motel 6 in Biloxi, Mississippi. The hotel where they had been staying in Pascagoula evicted them yesterday with the excuse that their rooms were needed by Saudi Petroleum. Every hotel in town they called after that had no vacancy. The twins suspected that SP had put out the word in Pascagoula that no one was to rent to the kids.

 SP wanted complete control of the message getting out and was unhappy with Molly's roving video camera and Tommy's probing questions over the last three days. SP was using it's influence to discourage the kids and hopefully send them packing back home.

 Instead the kids headed 25 miles down the coast to Biloxi and snagged a room at the Motel 6 on Beach Boulevard, across the street from the ocean. The motel clerk suggested Boomers Family Restaurant for good eats and the place to watch the World Cup. The owner's kids were futbol fans and had setup four temporary HD flat screens throughout the large dining room.

 The twins had spent the morning walking around Biloxi's waterfront checking out the scene before heading to Boomers for an early lunch. The USA – Slovakia match was on at 11am and they were expecting calls from their friends who were attending the game at Ellis Park Stadium in Johannesburg.

 The restaurant was nearly full with locals and temporary workers hired by SP to help clean up the oil leak. Tommy and Molly snagged a deuce and settled in for a long leisurely lunch of sweet iced tea and huge bowls of mouthwatering Biloxi seafood gumbo.

 Between phone calls and mouthfuls of gumbo Tommy and Molly shared with each other their growing frustration with SP. Right now the kids were just spinning their wheels and not accomplishing anything. This was not why they had given up their summer with their friends at the World Cup and had instead come to Mississippi.

 Tommy has been on the phone for the last 20 minutes with his buddy Fidel who is at the game. Secretly Tommy's thinking that it's a good thing the government pays his satellite-phone's bills cause this call was really gonna add up.

 Both boys agreed that the USA had been lucky to tie the match at 2 thanks to Michael Bradley's late goal. Especially after Maurice Edu's goal for the USA had been disallowed by the inconsistent Mali referee. Horrible officiating had almost cost the USA any hope of getting out of the first round.

 Then Tommy starts telling Fidel about his frustration with SP and it's tactics. “Fidel. Everyone down here is afraid of SP. They're afraid of doing something that'll piss off SP. It's almost like being in Cuba.”

 “Fishing is the main industry for the majority of people living down here. This oil leak has shut down that whole industry and the fisherman and related support industries are scrambling to stay afloat. They're taking any work they can find. Right now and for the immediate future...they're talking at least a year, maybe more, before fishing gets back...SP is the only company offering work. People are afraid to piss off the only employer in town so they're not saying anything negative about them. Especially to Molly and me.”

 “The word out there is that if you talk to us you'll never find work with SP. I never expected this kind of push-back in my own country. Yours definitely. Cuba si. But not here in the USA.”

 Tommy's buddy Fidel is the son of the Cuban Ambassador to Italy and a futbol teammate at Notre Dame International High School in Rome. Tommy continues. “I am amazed at the amount of influence and power this Arab oil company has here in my country. I'm seeing first hand where the interest of Saudi Petroleum overrides the interest of the American people. SP's agenda is not America's agenda. There has to be more checks and balances.”

 “Anyway. Fidel. Sorry for venting but I feel better. I'm ready to head back out there with Molly and see what doors we can open. Say hi to everyone and we'll be talking to you tomorrow before the Japan/Netherlands match. Ciao.”

 Tommy hangs up and Molly immediately jumps on him. “You know Tommy. You've got to slow down and think. Control yourself better. You're too impetuous. Mom and dad say that too. You're really becoming predictable. How would you do on the futbol field if your opponent could guess what you're about to do? Not so good I'm thinking. He'd steal the ball every time. Same thing in life. Become predictable and people will take advantage of that weakness.”

 “Hells bells, sistah. I know that. I just get so impatient. There's so much I want to do that sometimes I take on something new before I finish the last one. Sometimes I put too many balls into the air for me to juggle.”

Then a loud voice cuts through the din of the crowded room.

“Hey NDI !”

Tommy, who had been leaning on the small table as he talked to his sister sitting across from him, sits back and looks over his right shoulder in the direction of the voice. Molly's looking past Tommy and up into the friendly smiling face of an older...somewhere around her grandfathers age...distinguished, casually dressed gentleman with wavy, graying hair. He was pointing to the NDI futbol jersey that Tommy was wearing.

Tommy was surprised that anyone in Biloxi, let alone the whole State of Mississippi, would recognize his Rome, Italy high school jersey. He stood up out of respect for an elder and also to position himself in case this elder proved other than friendly. After all that he and Molly have experienced these last few days on the Gulf, he didn't want to be caught flatfooted. But the guy was smiling and sticking out his hand to shake.

“Hi. My name is Thomas. I went to NDI. It blew me away when I saw the jersey. I hope I'm not intruding. I saw you guys were having a pretty intense discussion. Plus, damn son, you talk on your phone almost as much as my 96 year old mother. Anyway. I don't mean to barge in. But I was curious. Where did you get the shirt?”

Tommy shakes his hand and then explains. “My name's Tommy and this is my sister Molly.” Molly smiles and nods. “I go to NDI. I play on our futbol team. There.”

“No kiddin',” says Thomas. “I ran track. Didn't get into soccer, err, futbol, until much later. Hell this was back in the '60's. Over 50 years ago. Damn kid you're bringing back some memories.”

Molly speaks for the first time. “Our grandfather went to Notre Dame International back in the 1960's.”

“Oh yea?. What was his name? I'm sure I knew him. We were a small, tight-knit group of guys.”

Molly told him.

“Well I'll be. Kids your grandfather and I have been close friends for over 50 years. Hell. He and I traveled the world together as tour guides for almost half that time. Don't tell me he's never mentioned Thomas International?”

Tommy and Molly looked at each other. OMG! This is the guy granddad always talks about...especially when grandmother isn't around .Apparently they blazed quite a trail back in the day and she would prefer that the grand-kids not know all the details. So granddad would wait until it was just the three of them before he started talking story. And boy were they good stories.

Then Molly started to quote one of their grandfather's favorite sayings. “Open your door and invited all ideas in...” Tommy knew where she was going and finished the saying with her, “For one of them may be King.” Except Molly changed King to Queen as she always does.

Thomas looks at the twins and grins. Following a chuckle he says, “I made that up when your grandfather and I were freshman at NDI. I've been following that creed ever since. I guess your grandfather passed that little titbit on to you two.”

“Cool. Hey kids. Do you mind if I pull up a chair? I'd love to visit with you for a little bit.” Both siblings nod and Tommy points to an empty chair at the table behind Thomas.

The table's occupants wave the chair away and Thomas turns it around and prepares to sit down at the messy table. Instead he stands back up and says, “Why don't we bus this table first and help out the staff. They've been jamming since early this morning and every morning since the leak started. Let's clear off this table and get us a fresh pitcher of ice tea. We might be here for a while.”