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Show 66 TWELVE Parker woke to find snow all over the ground. He looked out his other bedroom window. No mistake. Snow there, too. It was still falling. He peeled off his pajamas and made a shivery dash for the shower. Now he was glad Kelly/climbed Saturday, even though they'd frozen their asses off. He adjusted the shower and soaped up, his chest tingling from the first cold spray. Last year they'd done Fat Man's Misery during a February thaw, but they'd run into ice and that was risky. Hell, why'd it have to snow, anyway? Parker's nutritious breakfast was all laid out by the time he joined his mom and dad in the dining alcove. His mother was already dressed. It must be her day for volunteer work. Parker sat down and stared at the wall of newspaper that confronted him across the table every morning. "Knock, knock," he said to himself, a game he played daily. "Good morning," came the answer. It was his dad. He'd know that voice anywhere! "You had a phone call while you were in the shower," his mother said as she poured him a tall glass of orange juice. Parker folded a strip of bacon into his mouth and spread a napkin on his lap. Jan, probably, needing a ride to school. "Mrs. Simpson wants you to call back." "Mrs. Simpson?" His voice cracked like a fourteen-year-old's. "What'd she want?" "She didn't say. Her number's on the pad." Parker pushed back his chair. "Can't it wait? Your breakfast will be cold." "No," he answered his mom, polite enough. He proceeded to the phone. "Temperature has nothing to do with nutrition," she'd assured him on numerous occasions when she'd been promoting a cold meal. His teacher answered on the second ring. "Mrs. Simpson?" "Parker, I'm sorry to bother you with this . . ." He didn't say anything. "I'm going to be late this morning. Tim's nursery school has a parents' meeting at 7:00 which I have to attend. Could you open the room for me?" "Sure." "Another thing. Tell the kids to get their heads together- We |