Priscilla Benedict seemed to have the world by the tail on that morning in
May. She had been on the job as church secretary for about a hour that
Thursday when the high school called.
“Mrs. Benedict,” Phoebe Gates, one of the assistant principals said, “we’re
found a pack of cigarettes on the front seat of your daughters car and she
says the are yours. Since we consider that highly unlikely, we thought we
would inform you that if your daughter does not come up with a very good
explanation, she will be kicked off the cheerleading squad.”
Priscilla’s daughter Amy was completing her sophomore year in high school.
She had just been elected cheerleader for the upcoming year and was given a
new car for her 16th birthday a month ago.
Priscilla, cleared her throat, trying to think of a graceful way to get Amy
out of hot water and save her position as cheerleader.
“What brand are they she asked,” stalling for time. “Marlboro Reds,” said
Mrs. Gates in a knowing tone. “Well, that’s my brand,” Priscilla said in a
muffled tone so that Pastor Jerome Parrish would not hear her.
The starled Mrs. Gates seemed to offer a gulp in response. “Well,” she said,
“if that the case, she and you or her father will have to talk to Mr.
Champion tomorrow. He’s not here today but we have appointments available
tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Priscilla said, “can we make it 11:30 tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Mrs. Gates said. “I’m sorry to have to bring this up. I hope this
hasn’t embarrassed you.”
“Well okay, thanks,” Priscilla said, not meaning a word she said.
She hung up the phone in a startled state. Who should she turn to? The
church secretary of the leading church in town had to admit to smoking to
Mr. Champion, a member of the church’s board, in order to order to get her
daughter off the hook.
She thought about calling her husband, Boynton, in Chicago where he was
presenting a motivitational clinic. She thought about talking to her pastor,
Dudley Doright or even better his newest wife Denise. She thought about
calling her brother Luke Paulson, a pastor of an even larger church less
than an hour away.
She thought that she had suspected Amy of smoking ever since she spent some
time with her cousins, Luke and LeAnn’s college daughters. She needed to go
to the bank and would stop off at home for a minute and call LeAnn and find
out what was happening.
LeAnn was non-committal about what went during Amy’s visit but promised to
meet her at a restaurant about halfway between the locations. Priscilla
secured the additional time.
Hook seemed to be the operative word. Perhaps she should get addicted to get
her daughter off the hook. Perhaps, LeAnn would have some incite.
The timing was perfect. They arrived in the parking lot at the same time.
LeAnn asked for smoking to the surprise of Priscilla. As soon as they were
seated, LeAnn put the packs on the table.
So, what brand do you smoke? LeAnn asked. The amused Priscilla giggled as
she looked at the packs of Marlboro Lights, Newports, B&H regular and
Virginia Slims Menthol, and said “none of those. They found a pack of
Marlboro Reds in her car.”
LeAnn reached in her purse of produced an open pack of Marlboro Reds. She
offered one to Priscilla and lit up. “You smoke,” the amazed Priscilla said.
“Can you believe this,” LeAnn said. “I quit when Like and I started going
together. I made 23 years. Can you believe that. The girls got me restarted
at spring break. I suspect they got Amy started, too.”
“Me, too,” Priscilla said.
“So,” LeAnn asked, “what do you do. Tell them you started smoking. Tell them
you restarted smoking or tell them they belong to Amy and let her hang.
Priscilla put the cigarette in her hand as if ready to light it. “If I say I
restarted, I would have to look accomplished in a hurry. If I say I just
started, a lot less would be expected of me,” she said as she put the
cigarette to her lips.
Priscilla lit the cigarette and excelled a small amount of smoke. She drew
in a little more smoke to keep her cigarette lit. She coughed a little. The
server approached and jokingly asked if she had been smoking long. Priscilla
took another drag and lot some of the smoke out as she talked saying, “this
is my first one ever.”
“There’s hope for my wife then,” the 20ish waiter said.
Priscilla continued to smoke her cigarette. She had another after eating her
cheeseburger basket. She was amazed at the smoking world she suddenly found
herself in.
Then she observed that she better get back to the real world.
“Here, take the Reds to make the story good,” LeAnn said. “Take the Marlboro
Lights to be more comfortable while you learn to enjoy smoking.”
Priscilla rushed back to work about 20 minutes late. She sat down and opened
up her computer only to have Pastor Doright lean over in her face.
“How am I going to counsel you on quitting smoking when you haven’t
started,” the pastor said.
“So, you know,” replied Priscilla.
“Yes,” Mr. Champion got the word and he called me. “I said I suspected as
much and would try to help you quit when you are ready. He said skip the
hearing. With my confirmation, he said he would accept the story and simply
give Amy a warning. Your meeting will not be necessary.”
Priscilla thought for a minute and replied. “So, my is off the hook as long
as I get hooked?”
“Well, you just need to go through the motions of being a smoker and then
quit. Amy must stop. Your job is not in jeapordy no matter what decision you
make. So, get your work done so you can get home when Amy comes home and
have a heart-to-heart with her.”
Priscilla got a call before leaving from the local auto body shop. They said
to tell the pastor’s daughter the car would be ready about 6 p.m. Pastor
Doright saw where the call came from and came back to Priscilla’s desk.
“I know about that, too,” the Pastor said. “It’s okay,” he said. “She has to
learn to pay attention. There was little damage and no harm.”
Priscilla lit a Marlboro Light as soon as she left the church office. She
lit another as Amy drove up about five minutes later than expected.
“Is is true, I was just making it all up,” Amy said. “It wasn’t true then,”
Priscilla said, “but it may be now. I mother will do anything to protect her
child,” Priscilla said as she offered a cigarette to Amy.
“Mother, those were my cigarettes,” Amy said.
“Who’s bleeping cigarettes were they,” Priscilla asked.
“Darla Doright’s,” Amy said. “I took her to school after she took her car to
the shop. She was so shook about the little wreck she took her secret pack
out of the gloove compartment and smoked two before we got to school.”
“This is so ironic,” Priscilla said as she stubbed out her cigarette. “You
mean you don’t smoke and did all this for nothing,” she said.
“That’s about right,” Amy said. “Gosh, did you ever jump to conclusions.”
“In a way, I feel like a fool,” Priscilla said. “All I can say to you is
never try your first cigarette,” she said as she lit another. “It doesn’t
take much at all to get you addicted.”
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