"Ma'am?" the driver asked again, braking as he came to the end of
the ranch driveway.
"Home," she whispered, and burst into tears.
* * *
William shouted into the microphone again, "Wait! Please! Listen,
please!"
The cacophony of protest continued. A pen flew by dangerously
close to his head. It was useless. There was no way he could get
them to settle down so he could explain the announcement. After
ducking another flying object, William turned and made for the
curtains. In just a moment the thing would fix itself.
The house lights went out and then a spotlight illuminated center
stage. The curtains parted.
And Peter Jones emerged.
The audience went wild.
Peter took a few steps to the edge of the stage, grinning from
ear to ear. The crowd whistled and cheered and rose all at once,
welcoming their champion with a standing ovation that lasted and
lasted, earsplitting in its intensity.
"Thank you," Peter said fanning his hands at the audience. "And
thank you, William," he said, looking offstage.
The audience returned to their seats, some still applauding, but
low enough so that he could be heard.
"It's good to be back," he said. This lifted the applauding
audience from their seats once more. He strolled to the podium,
wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and waited. When
the audience settled down he continued.
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