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Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager.
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"OK, J.R.," Sean intoned. "We need to know what your story is. Like I said, we won't hurt you and we're here to help but first we need to know what the truth is. We'll shut up now, and you talk. Start talking..."
"OK, well, you asked about my parents. My mom, she's dead. She was shot two years ago in Kansas City in a drug raid. I'm Mexican, but I was born here. In California. My dad and my mom were illegal, and they were drug runners. My dad still is. Meth, coke, heroin, stuff like that. We moved from town to town because the people my mom and dad worked for, the drug lords, they made us do that. They said we had to or they'd kill us. We had to change our names all the time and get fake ID's. The name I gave you is my real name. I know my dad has a new ID by now, so I don't even know what name he's using. He's probably got a different car, too. My dad had me running drugs since my mom died. Then last night he said we had to move. We've been here almost a year. He said we had to move but didn't say where so I don't even know where he is right now. I said I didn't want to go, and I wasn't gonna run drugs any more. I see what it does to people. Besides, I saw my mom shot dead right in front of me. I don't want to end up dead, too... This morning, when my dad said we had to leave, I said no, so he beat me up and dropped me off out in the country by a farm. He pushed me into the ditch by the road and said he never wanted to see me again as long as he lived. I walked for hours back to town just going by the sun for direction. I had nowhere else to go. I was gonna go to the Police, but then the storm hit and I thought if I walked up the ravine I might maybe find a drainage tunnel, or something so I could stay dry. I was hurt, and cold and wet. That's when you found me."
"WOW!" Sean and Andy mouthed in unison.
"Please...please Sean and Andy, please help me... I'm only fifteen! I don't have anything, or anybody. I have nowhere to go... Please help me..." Juan begged, head down, tears streaming down his face.
"My God!" Sean gasped.
"What should we do, Sean-o?" Andy asked, eyes wide.
"Well, dad's gonna be home at some point, so we're gonna have to have a sit-down once he gets here. I mean, it's not really up to us. For now I think we need to make J.R. comfortable. I mean, there's no home to take him back to, there's no parents to call... I don't wanna call the cops at this point. I guess we'll just hafta see... You hungry, J.R.?"
"Yes. I haven't eaten since last night."
"Well, can I getcha a PB and J? That OK for ya? And a glass of milk? I'm pretty sure you'll be eating dinner with us, so..."
"Thank you. Thank you for helping me. I'm not a bad person. I bet I know what you think, but I'm not bad..."
"Sean-o, you got dinner on, right?" Andy asked.
"Yeah, I threw some shit in the crock pot this morning. We'll have enough food." Sean went off to the kitchen to get Juan his PB and J.
"That was a rough story you told us, J.R." Andy said eying the boy.
"It's the truth." Juan sniffled. "I'm not a bad person. I'm just a kid. Don't you think I want to be like you guys? With your nice house and your good clothes, and your nice things? Don't you think I want that, too?"
"We need to talk to our dad, J.R., but I promise you we'll do what we can. Before we do that, though, I want you to look me and Sean in the eyes and tell us that you told us the truth. Like I said, we'll do what we can, but we have to know that what you told us is the truth."
"Um, yeah, we need to know that, J.R.," Sean reinforced. "We're good guys and all, but we need to know we're not being bullshitted here..."
"I told you guys the truth. I swear on my mother's grave I told the truth!" Juan said, looking both boys in the eyes.
Sean choked a bit to himself recalling the time he'd sworn on his own mother's grave.
"Where do you go to school, J.R.?" Andy asked.
"Last year I was a Freshman at Parker. I did OK, considering..."
"Did you go by your real name?"
"No. I went by Alberto Resendiz. They called me Al."
"What were your grades?" Sean asked.
"I got mostly B's. I did OK. I used to stay at school as long as I could get away with and study so I wouldn't have to run drugs. I got beaten a few times for that, but maybe I saved a life, who knows... I survived..."
"Jesus, And..." Sean sighed. "What the fuck are we gonna tell dad?"
"Sean?" Juan broke in.
"Yeah..."
"Please. Do what you told me to do. Look your father in the eye and tell him the truth. Or I'll tell him the truth. Or Andy will tell him the truth. But just tell him the truth..."
"Fuckin-A!" Sean smiled. "OK, J.R., you got it, dude..."
Juan smiled. Both Andy and Sean noted that his dark brown eyes sparkled even under all the pain. In their hearts, both boys vowed to themselves at that moment to help the boy.
"OK, Jimbo, spill it!" Danny implored to Jim once they were in his room.
Well, um, I saw something really bad last night..." Jim glumly stared at his feet.
"OK, well, I don't wanna drag it outta ya, but can ya tell me what it was? Please, Jim, I have no idea what it is that you're talking about..."
"OK, I'll tell ya. Ya gotta know this was all a big surprise to me! Well, it turns out that my mom and dad are not my parents..."
"What?"
"Yeah, that's right. It turns out that my mom's sister is my real mother. She got pregnant with me and she wasn't married. She died in childbirth. My `mom' now was almost ten years older and already married. They took me in, but they really didn't want any kids. They never even legally adopted me."
"How'dja find that out?"
"I went to the kitchen late last night, and I saw a notepad on the table. The notes were just scribbled out, but I could tell it was my dad's' handwriting. It said about that I was 18 now, and their responsibility for me was over, that they wanted their lives back, and stuff like that. It was like it was a rehearsal for what I was going to be told. Then under the paper was my birth certificate. Under father it says unknown' so I don't even know who my real dad is...I'll never find out, either... I think they're gonna kick me out, and I haven't even graduated High School! And now who I thought I was isn't even who I am... I feel like someone ripped my soul out!"
"Jesus Christ!" Danny oathed. Danny was totally floored.
"Yeah, so now except for you I don't have anyone. Nobody. Nobody and nuthin'!"
"OK, well, we need to make a plan, then, Jimbo. Remember what it says in the Bible, Joshua 1:5?"
"How the fuck would I know that..." Jim sobbed softly.
"Jimbo, pull yourself together. It says this: `There shall not any man be able to stand before thee all the days of thy life: as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.' So there you go, Jimbo. I will not fail you, and I will not forsake you. Not ever! Now, let's see if we can't put our heads together and come up with a contingency plan here... After all, we're both adults."
"Yeah, you're right. God must have put you in my life for a reason, Danny. I'm sure of it. Let's think for a minute here." Jim finally smiled, stood, went over to Danny and hugged him tight for all he was worth. "if they kick me out can I come live with you here? At least for a little while? Do you think your Granny would go for that?"
"I dunno, Jim. I mean, of course I'd ask her, but we don't even know what your parents are gonna say, if anything. If they kick you out, the FIRST PLACE you're gonna come is here, even if only for a while. I'll make Granny do at least that much. She's kind hearted, but she's got her limits."
"OK, well, I just thought of something, too. Believe it, or not, I met your Uncle today. Uncle George. He knows we're boyfriends."
"How'dja meet HIM?" Danny asked, surprised.
"Well, remember I toldja about that hearing thing I hadda go to today? Well, Uncle George was there representing Sean. Uncle George lives in Janesville and I guess Sean's friends with your cousin Tim now, so there was that connection. He knew my name because your mom mentioned me to him. He said I'm family, and he was my attorney today..."
"OK, so how does Uncle George play into this?"
"Well, if they do kick me out, then do you think I could call him and see if there's anything that can be done? I mean, he's a lawyer and all..."
"Well, other than Granny that's about all we got right now, Jimbo..."
"So, when I get home, do you think I should bring it up?"
"Um...yeah. Yeah I do. Because if you don't then it's just gonna eat at you, and I know how you are with shit like that. Besides, they intend to bring it up anyhow, so it's probably best just to clear the air. Yeah, bring it up. I mean, there's no upside that I can think of for not bringing it up..."
"Yeah, you're right. I guess I better go home now and get it over with, hey?"
"Yes, Jim, you need to do that. I want to know as soon as you know what's going on. By the way, whose name is the title to your car in?"
"Mine. I bought it myself with money I saved from work."
"Good. You might need it. OK, Jimbo, there's no time like the present. Go find out the mystery behind this riddle and you call me when you know!"
Danny walked Jim down to the front door, and with the rain pounding down Jim drove off into the early evening to see what fate held in store for him. It was a long and nerve wracking drive home. Every dip, rut and pothole in the roads seared Jim's apprehension to his core. He kept repeating the words "I will not fail thee, or forsake thee."
"Hey, Sean-o, it looks like dad's home now!" Andy called out.
"OOOOOOKKKKKK, well, here goes nuthin'!" Sean said resignedly.
"Evening, guys!" Joe called out. "Smells like there's some dinner for me, sorry I'm late! Got some good news, though! Hey, who's this guy? You just wake up, son? What's with the PJ's and the bathrobe?" Joe laughed knowing better than to try to guess at what teenage guys can get up to.
"Um, dad, why don't you go change. I'll set the table. We haven't eaten yet. We got back from Kenosha, and then there was all this bad weather and stuff..." Sean deflected, breathing a sigh of relief to see that his deflection appeared to actually work.
"OK, smells good, Sean! And like I said, I got some good news for everyone!" Joe then disappeared to his room down the hall.
"OK, J.R., you set the table; I'll show ya where the shit is. And, get the drinks on. I'll dish up the crock pot slop and get the salad on!" Sean could have been a restaurant chef the way he assigned kitchen tasks.
Like magic, the three boys had a nice looking table set with a chicken and rice crock pot dish and a garden salad dressed with a Balsamic vinegar dressing and croutons. There were glasses of ice water all around. Juan even took the extra time to set napkins nicely beside each plate.
"OK, guys, let's garbage up!" Joe announced. "So let me tell ya the good news! We had the initial quality checks today for the new Cadillac line, the CT6. Flawless! Absolutely flawless! I'm proud of the team I got down there, I tell ya. The GM brass said they'd never seen an initial run like this before. They said the cars were showroom quality. That's a big load off, guys. This had to go well, and it went perfect! Anyway, tell me how your days went! And what's with the PJ's son?
"Um, dad, this is Juan. We, or I mean me, I nicknamed him J.R. Well, after we got back from Kenosha, you know that storm came up, right? Well, J.R. got caught in the storm. Andy saw him in the ravine, so I went and rescued him. I brought him in and we got him warmed up and dried out."
"What's with the bruises on your face, son?" Joe asked Juan. "Did you hurt yourself?"
Juan looked quizzically at both Sean and Andy.
"Um, dad..." Andy said. "There's a story that we kinda hafta get to yet..."
"Oh, Christ, like I couldn't see that one comin' a mile away..." Joe answered, rolling his eyes. "OK, you three, let's have the story, then..."
"Um, dad..." Sean looked up. "I think it'd be best if J.R. told you the story. J.R., tell my dad exactly what you told us and this afternoon. And remember, even though we believed you, it had better be the truth. Dad will see through it in two seconds if he thinks you're pulling his leg."
"I won't lie, Sir..."
"Call me Joe, son."
"OK. Joe, Sean rescued me from the ravine today. I passed out right when he got to me. I think he maybe saved my life. That's how I got here, and why I'm in pajamas, but you already know that. I'll tell you how I ended up there, and everything. And it's all the truth..." Juan proceeded to repeat to Joe almost word for word what he had told Andy and Sean earlier that afternoon.
"OK, Joe, I'm done. Are you gonna kick me out now?" Juan asked with downcast eyes.
"No, son, I am not going to kick you out now. Decent people don't put a fifteen-year- old boy out on the streets at night in the middle of a rainstorm. As far as I'm concerned, you will stay here tonight. Sean and Andy will make you a bed in the family room. Just so you know, don't try to leave, and don't steal anything. We've got full video surveillance here. In addition, once the security system is armed no one can get in, and also no one can get out without the proper codes, which you don't have. You have nothing to fear here. We will treat you well, and we won't hurt you. I'm just letting you know the lay of the land here. Do we understand each other, Juan?"
"Yes. I will be good. I'm not a bad person."
"Very well. I also want you to know that tomorrow I'm going to contact a friend of mine to check your story out. If it checks out then we can talk some more. If it doesn't check out, then I'm afraid I will have to call the authorities. I think that's fair. So why don't you three go to the family room. I'll be in in a minute." Joe then excused himself from his table and retired into the study.
"OK, dad!" Sean and Andy called out.
"Wow! Your dad's nice!" Juan said, smiling again. "I hope whoever he calls doesn't say I'm a liar, because I'm not! I'm just a boy! I didn't mean to do anything wrong! I just didn't want to hurt people with drugs!"
"Don't worry, J.R.," Andy said. "Dad is a good man. I have a feeling you will be just fine! I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I don't think you're feeding us a line. Let's just see what tomorrow brings, OK?"
"Yeah, I guess so..."
Unbeknownst to the three boys, Joe waited in the wings and overheard the whole conversation. He proceeded to the kitchen, poured four glasses of beer and four shots of Jaeger. Putting them all on a tray, he returned to the family room.
"OK, guys, it's been a long day for everyone! Here's a beer and a shot of Jaeger all around!" Joe passed each boy a beer and a shot, then took his own. "I'll say the toast. To a good day at work, to two fine sons, and to our guest blown in by the storm! Here's mud in your eye, guys!"
"Um, so you want me to drink?" Juan asked a little bit apprehensive.
"Juan, son, you've had a hard day. The little bit of alcohol in what you're being served will only act as a mild sedative and if nothing else will help you sleep better tonight. Besides, it's a male bonding experience. Now, yes, I want you to have a drink with us!"
Juan smiled at Joe. Joe did a double-take at Juan's smile. He would have to seek Val's advice yet one more time.
"Guys, I know it's a little late, and it's raining, but I got somewhere I gotta go. I'll be back in about an hour, or so. Nobody leaves this house while I'm gone." Joe got up, put his coat on and was out the door. He texted Sean to fully arm the security system. Joe wheeled the XTS onto the rainy night streets pulling up in about fifteen minutes at Saint John Vianney Catholic Church. Getting out, he found the front door of the church locked. Spying the Rectory next door, he went to the front door and rang the bell. No one came. After a minute, or so, Joe rang again, this time longer.
Presently, a rather homely, balding man answered the door. "Can I help you? This is a rather irregular hour of the evening, you know..."
"Are you a Priest?" Joe asked. Not having any experience with the Catholic Church, George didn't know what to expect.
"Yes, I'm Father Taylor," the man answered.
"Father, I need some advice. It'll only take a few minutes, and I am prepared to make a generous contribution to the church. I came here tonight because like I said I need some advice. I'm new to town, but I know that friends of mine, George and Peggy Dickson are parishioners of yours."
"Please come in!" Father Taylor said motioning Joe to step into the foyer.
"Hang your coat up over there, take off your shoes and then follow me into the study."
Once in the study, the two men sat down. "Can I offer you a glass of wine?" Father Taylor asked.
"Thank you, Father. I'd appreciate it."
"How can I help you, my son?"
"First I should introduce myself. I'm Joe Wyman." Joe reached out to shake Father Taylor's hand.
"Joe Wyman as in the guy who appears to have saved the GM plant?" Father Taylor asked.
"I wouldn't go that far, Father. It's a team effort, but, yeah, I'm the guy in charge over there. Either we make a go of it, or I lose my ass." Joe didn't mind some salty language in front of the Priest. Joe realized full well that most churches are made up of sinners and not Saints.
"Well, Joe, tell me what's on your mind."
For the next five minutes Joe laid it all out for Father Taylor.
"Joe, here's the way I see it. This boy was sent to you. He was sent to you because he has nowhere else to go and because you're the Good Samaritan in this story. You won't pass on the other side of the road. I will say a prayer tonight for you and for Juan. Yes, you should check his story, of course, but Joe, if his story is true God has sent this boy to you. Sometimes the Lord blesses us in ways we don't understand at first."
Joe looked up noticing a painting above the fireplace. The face was different, but the dress was the same white dress only without the veil that Val had worn on their wedding day. To Joe, that was a sign.
"Thank you, Father. I do believe that you are right." Joe pulled out his checkbook and asked, "How much is the tuition to your school for one year?"
"It's $3,500 plus parent involvement, so without parent involvement it would be about $5,000."
Joe wrote out a check and handed it to Father Taylor. "Father, here's a check for $10,000. Please use this to defray the costs $2,000 each for the five poorest families in your school so that they can have some breathing room."
"I shall include you in my homily this Sunday, Joe."
"That's not necessary, Father. You and I and God know about this. That's all the farther it needs to go. For now, just get the money to those families. Perhaps we can talk again some other time about setting up a scholarship fund."
Pulling up to his house, Jim Nolan got out and strode to the door. Before he went in, he verified that his `parents' were indeed at home.
Walking in the door he saw his `dad' reading the paper. "Dad, can we talk?" Jim asked.
"Not now, I'm reading the paper," came the emotionless response.
"Dad, look, I saw what was on the table last night, so we might as well get this over with. Please put the paper down..."
"OK, let's meet in the dining room."
Jim and his `parents' sat at the dining room table.
"OK, so like I said, I saw what was in the kitchen table last night. Please let me know what's going on. I mean, I have a pretty good guess, but whatever it is, just give it to me straight."
"Ok, well, Jim, then as you know you're not our real son. We've raised you to adulthood, but we never intended to have kids. We did right by you and you never wanted, but you're 18 now so we've done our part. We know all about you and Danny, and it's your life. We pass no judgment on that. We know that you still have to finish high school, but we want our own place to ourselves now. Here's a check for $10,000. That'll more than cover an $800 a month apartment rent for the next year. Any landlord will take a full year's rent up front, and with what you make at work you should be able to afford a decent place of your own near school. We'll give you a week, or two, but by that time we expect you to be out of this house."
"OK, I guess this is how it's gonna be. And you're right, I didn't want for anything, but I never knew who I was. I never knew why no one ever gave me any real affection. I never knew a lot. Some of it isn't your fault. None of it is my fault. I only hope I wasn't too much of a burden over the years. I'll start packing tomorrow morning."
"We did our best, Jim, and we know you did, too. You are an adult now, and we know you can take care of yourself."
"Yes, I will." Jim then rose, and went to his room. He took out his phone and called Danny.
Sean, Andy and Juan heard the overhead door to the garage opening. Juan sat bolt upright. "What do you think he will tell me?"
"He'll tell all three of us that our asses should be in bed soon!" Andy winked.
"Guys! I'm home!" Joe yelled out in true Marine fashion. "Family room! Everyone! Now!"
Once gathered, Joe began, "OK, I went over to St John Vianney Church and I had a little talk with the Father over there. Juan, pay attention to me. Juan, the Father seems to think that God sent you to us. That's as may be, and if he did, son, well then, it is what it is, and we'll have to make it work. Father also recommended that I check out your story before we know what God's hand in this may be. I said I was fine with that, and I have ways to get that done quickly. Again, I am asking you, Juan, are you telling me the truth? Because if you aren't then even though God might have sent you to me, there are other powers that will take you away. Look at me now, Juan. Tell me the truth."
"I said the truth. I swear on my mother's grave I said the truth!"
"OK, Juan. Look, let's all get a good night's sleep and then tomorrow night we'll talk again."
Preseason football practice progressed in the normal way Sean was used to in past years. The drills, while expected, seamed endless. The weight training, intense. The hours spent with Dix and the Quarterback Coach were finely honing his skills.
The same could be said for Dix. Try as they did, and both young men gave it all they had, neither one of them in their own minds was quite able to shake the other one, or open up any sort of superiority gap. More than once, the coaches gave both boys accolades and encouragement. In the team scrimmages both performed razor-sharp. Neither boy threw an interception. Sean had an error where he misread a receiver's route and threw behind him, and Dix fumbled a snap, but those kind of things could be expected in pre-season practice, and were just about the only mistakes the boy's made.
Andy kept busy totaling up the stats for Sean and Dix. Both boys were curious to know how they stood. Andy had to break it to them that in terms of percentages, the difference was so small as to be insignificant. In practice scrimmages, Sean had a quarterback rating of 103.6, and Dix's rating was 103.7. Andy did the math and said, "Look, guys, that comes down to 0.09%, and that's pretty much a rounding error. It's not enough to get a fly high. It's a dead heat."
One thing that didn't go unnoticed by anyone was the general improvement of the entire offense. As Coach told the offensive line on more than one occasion, "Guys, the Quarterbacks get all the glory, but don't ever forget that in the end it's Linemen that win games. Without an effective offensive line, even guys like Wymo and Dix would be flat on their asses before a play got made. That's what Linemen do: protect the Quarterback, open holes and keep `em open for the Running Backs. You guys are gonna win us games just as much, if not more than Dickson and Wyman!"
What the rest of the team didn't know was that every Saturday morning, Sean and Tim reported to a private dance studio for lessons. Their dads had suggested it, and after a few lessons, both of them had to agree they found it useful. Not that they cared much to learn ballroom dancing, but they appreciated the limberness, timing, and fine muscle control that it required. What amused them the most was that once they got comfortable with the atmosphere, the instructor had them dance as a pair with one leading, and the other following. Sean told Dix that he was already taken, so he'd just have to look elsewhere to which Tim laughed so hard he had difficulty breathing.
Brett showed remarkable athletic ability during practices as well. The drills and weight training added strength and muscle mass. Brett continued to gain height, and added ten pounds on his lithe frame. With all the physical changes, Brett was now a half-inch taller than Tim, and their weights were equal at 185 lbs. What Tim didn't know was that Brett had training in figure skating, so in addition to his taller than average height, and his speed, he could turn, jump and spin on a dime. Coach told Brett that he wanted him to try out for Safety and Wide Receiver. Brett shown at Safety, easily able to keep on his Receivers, and if not always able to intercept a pass, showing an uncannily faultless ability to deflect a pass preventing an offensive pass completion. At Wide Receiver he was somewhat less skillful, and while almost always able to outrun his defender, not always having quite top-notch ability to complete some difficult catches. Coach told him that was most likely due to a lack of experience, and it was a talent that required further practice and development, but that he wasn't far off the mark and in time might have first-string ability.
This pleased Brett, and while he was not 100% sure, he felt that he'd at least make second string on the varsity team and not be sent down to the Jayvee squad. At least he hoped. He so wanted to be Tim's teammate.
On the last practice before the final roster cuts had to be made, Coach called the players into a team huddle. "Men, today is Thursday. Tomorrow morning, I have to report to the WIAA our final team lineup within the number of players we can have on the squad. The roster and depth chart will be posted outside my office before classes start tomorrow morning. I'm sorry to say that because of those rules some of you won't be at tomorrow's varsity practice but will be with the Jayvee squad. I want you to know I truly regret that. You are, all of you, the finest group of young men I've ever had the privilege to Coach. Those of you who go to the Jayvee squad, if a position should open up later in the season for whatever reason, you will be brought up to the Varsity. As always, to any man who is cut, I will make time to meet with you personally should you desire. I've gone through this process for a lot of years now. Believe me, this part of the job doesn't get any easier as time goes by. You have all earned my respect. That is all for now, men. Dickson and Wyman, please report to my office after you've showered and changed."
"Hey, Dix, wait up!" Sean called out.
"Hey, Wymo, I was just gonna say the same to you! Why do you think Coach wants to see us?"
"If I were a betting man, I'd bet he's made his Quarterback decision. Look, Dix, I know I've said it before, but I feel that it bears repeating. I want you to look me in the eye when I say this..."
"Um, OK..."
"Dix, I said if it didn't go my way that I'd be fine with it. I meant it then, and I mean it now. I consider you a good friend, and I consider our competition to be friendly. You understand me, bud?"
Tim seemed unexpectedly nervous, but managed to say, "I guess let's get showered up and, um, get this the fuck over with, man..."
"OK, let's make sure we meet each other in front of Coach's office. We should both go in together."
"Good idea, and Wymo?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever happens, I love ya, man."
"Me, too, now let's get a move on!" Sean let out a gigantic smirk which made Dix laugh, although again Sean thought Tim looked as if his thoughts were elsewhere.
After showering and changing, Sean and Tim walked together down to Coach's office.
"Wymo, you knock on the door!" Dix said.
Sean gave his standard knock.
"Enter," They heard Coach say on the other side of the door, which they opened and stepped in.
"Mr. Dickson, Mr. Wyman, please come in. Have a seat, gentlemen. As you've probably guessed, the reason I asked you to meet with me today is that I've come to a decision about which one of you is to be our starting Quarterback this year."
Sean and Tim looked at each other. Tim broke the ice first, "Wymo, good luck, man!"
"Good luck to you, too, Dix. You're one hell of a competitor!"
"Very well, then, gentlemen. Mr. Wyman, as I said I would, I took under advisement your suggestion that if I was unable to choose the clearly superior of you two that I might name both of you as co-starting Quarterbacks. I decided against that, and I'll tell you why. The reason is that the offense must be led by one player, and one player only. Otherwise, we'd run the risk of ending up with some sort of sludgy amalgam which could actually hurt the team's cohesiveness."
"I understand the logic, Coach." Sean said.
"Well, guys, here's my decision: it ended as a toss-up. Gentlemen, I am proud beyond words of both of you, and I want you both to be proud of yourselves that in competing against each other you've both improved tremendously. The spirit in which you engaged each other is an example to the whole team. Hell, it was an example to the entire coaching staff! Any school in the State of Wisconsin would crap their pants to have either one of you as their starting Quarterback. It is the team's good fortune this year to have two Quarterbacks both of whom at the High School level in my opinion rate as elite. I can honestly say that it pains me more than either of you young men can know to have to make this decision, but I have to do my job and it is what it is. Right, then... Mr. Wyman?"
"Yes Coach?"
"Mr. Wyman, I'm sorry, son, but my decision is that Mr. Dickson be the starting Quarterback. You will be the Captain of the offense to start until the team votes. You will, however, have significant playing time this season. There will probably be some games where you will start, but on the depth chart, and again this pains me more than you know, you will be number two."
"Coach?" Sean began, "My hat's off to Dix. I said that if he was chosen over me that I'd play under him without reservation and I meant what I said." Sean then turned to Tim and said, "Dix, congratulations. You deserve it, man!"
"Coach?" Tim said.
"Yes, Mr. Dickson?"
"Coach, have you told anyone else of your decision?"
"No, gentlemen, I have not. Because you two are such exemplary sportsmen, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, because you're both class acts, I gave you the courtesy of this meeting in advance of publicly announcing the team depth chart. Not even the other Coaches know."
"Coach," Tim continued, "Would it be alright if Wymo and me made the announcement to the team? With you present, of course. Look, I'm gonna need Wymo's support this year more than you know if we're gonna go all the way, and, well, what do you think, Wymo?"
"If I may, Coach," Sean said, "I agree with Dix. Both of us would like to stand united in front of the whole team and let them know that we support your decision. I would also like to request that as far as team jerseys go Dix wears number 1, and I wear number 2."
"I see, gentlemen. Agreed. And on the jersey numbers, too. You will both make the announcement at the beginning of tomorrow's practice. You will be brief, and you will not take questions. I will post the public depth chart tomorrow morning with both of you listed at the Quarterback position, but without a rank. That will puzzle people no doubt. Neither one of you is to say anything to anyone before practice! You may tell your parents, but that's it! If any of your team mates ask you are to tell them that you don't know anything. Am I clear?"
"Thanks, Coach!" both young men said.
"You are dismissed, gentlemen."
"Just one last question, Coach," Dix said.
"Yes, Mr. Dickson?"
"Did Brett Dowling make the team? I promise not to tell anyone, but it's very important to me to know."
"Mr. Dickson, I've never granted a favor of this sort, and you know that. In my opinion revealing whether, or not any man made the team, or not to other athletes in advance could easily be construed as improper. However, I do have some idea of what Mr. Dowling's status on the team means to you. Therefore, this one time I will relax that rule, but only a little bit. I can confirm that Mr. Dowling's name will appear on the Varsity roster. At what position and at what depth will have to wait until tomorrow morning to be known. I am ordering you not to tell anyone that, including Mr. Dowling himself. You will tell no one. NO ONE!"
"Yes, Coach, and thank you."
"Mr. Dickson, I need you to understand that it is not a request that you tell no one. It is a direct fucking order. Disobey that order and you will be cut from the team. Period. Same goes for you, Mr. Wyman. Do both of you gentlemen fully understand what I just told you?"
"Yes, Coach!" both replied in unison, and Tim silently breathed a sigh of blessed relief. His mate would be right there along with him.
Coach Slater smiled and shook his head after the two boys left, mouthing "Jesus Christ" to himself.
As the boys got a little way down the hall from the Coach's office, Tim turned to Sean and said, "Look, Wymo, I, um, I mean, well, neither one of us is, um, better than the other one... I'm so sorry, man, I mean..."
"Dix, shut it! I said what I meant, and I meant what I said. Besides, consider for a moment: you're a Senior; I'm a Junior. We might just go all the way, and as a Senior, if we do, then you deserve the crown. I'll be number one next year unless GM opens a new plant here in town and someone clones me. And you know, Coach said I'd start some of the games anyhow. What difference does it make what it says on a fucking depth chart? Whichever one of us is on the sidelines can coach the other one about the opposing defense, we can suggest plays, and we can do a lot for each other that other teams just can't because they don't have the depth of talent. Dix, fuck it! We're gonna win the Goddamn championship! Done!"
Tim turned to Sean, tears in his eyes. "Wymo, man, I don't give a fuck...I never met anyone quite like you before. Look, I want you and Andy and your dad over at my house for dinner tonight! 7:30. I ain't takin' no for an answer, either!" What Sean could not know was that twice before Tim had been in a similar situation winning a sports competition over a friend and both times his friends had turned on him. Tim was secretly terrified of history repeating itself, and had confided in his parents that he was afraid if he won that Sean and Andy would come to hate him.
George and Peggy Dickson scoffed at that and urged Tim to have a talk with Sean, but they could see that Tim was too tied up in knots to do anything about it. Underneath the football warrior exterior and Quarterback swagger Tim was a tenderhearted young man and he had grown to love Sean and Andy. He admired their strength and honesty. He admired Sean's athleticism, brains and good looks, and Andy's practical, yet smart-ass nature and gritty toughness. The thought of losing his two new friends began to tear at him.
"We'll be there, Dix. Should we bring anything?"
"Fuck you, Wymo, just fuckin' be there, OK?"
"OK, man. We'll see ya then!
Sean and Andy walked to the Cruze. Now that Andy could drive again, he practically insisted on carting Sean everywhere. For his part, Sean was both amused and touched by that. Once in the car, Andy spoke up. "Sean-o, man, I wanna say something..."
"Whatcha got, Brown Eyes?"
"Look, I think it doesn't really matter who's number one, or two. I think you and Dix are gonna kick the shit out of any defense we play. You seem to be fine with it. Are you?"
"Yeah, I really am. You know, we owe Dix and the rest of the guys a shitload. We really do. I already told Dix that he's a Senior and even if that was the only deciding point, then it is what it is. I told Dix I'd support him 110% and I keep my promises. Besides, it's not like I'm better than he is, anyway. We both know it ended up as a tie. Coach even said so... I'll be number one next year. And I'm fine with it. I been doing some online scouting on the other teams in the conference, and I'd say the one we're gonna really hafta worry about is Madison West. Their Quarterback is probably as good as me, or Dix, and almost their whole squad is Seniors. Their defensive line is huge. Two of em weigh 240-250! I think we're gonna have our hands full with those guys, but where we can beat em is they lack the speed we have and our defense is a little better than their offense which is really what will tell the tale. Middleton will be good, too, but I think one notch down from West. The rest of the teams, meh... Beloit looks to have a good running attack, but no Quarterback to speak of, and our defense is solid. Sun Prairie looks like they won't be a push over. We'll wipe the floor with Parker...they lost over half their last year's team to graduation. It's a rebuilding year for them. I think it's gonna come down to us and West."
"I'm gonna tell Coach that I'm gonna keep tabs on West's stats all season long, too. Well, if it matters, anyway, because we don't know yet when we play them. The schedule won't be out till next week!"
"I'd rather play them late than early. We have a truly great team, but we need games and wins under our belt if we're gonna beat West, and we need the game to be at home."
When the boys pulled in, Joe was already home.
"Hey, guys!" Joe called out. "Guess what!"
"What, dad..." Both boys eyerolled.
"Well, I had a teleconference with GM brass today, and they like what we've done so far with the plant here and especially our build quality. We are number one not only in GM, but for all assembly plants in the United States. Now, this doesn't leave this room, but after the pre-production run it's finalized. Janesville's been awarded production of the Cadillac CT6. That will compete with the Mercedes S-class. I am one of only a handful of people that even knows what it looks like, and don't ask! This is a make-or-break car for Cadillac. Any failure and we'll be a laughing stock, but success will mean that Janesville's on the map, and on an even level with Stuttgart! Guys, if we make a go of this, well, let me put it this way, you have no idea what it would mean to us as a family!"
"Holy crap, dad!" Andy said. "Does that mean we get better cars? Just kidding..."
"Andy, you little twerp! We gotta make it work, first, but if it works, then the sky's the limit, son!"
"I'm really proud of you, dad!" Sean said. "Now, I got something to tell you..."
"OK, son, I'm all ears over here. Whadya got..."
"OK, dad, well, two things. First of all, Coach made his decision about the Quarterback position today. I am number two. Second, we're having dinner at the Dickson's tonight. 7:30."
"That's it?"
"Yeah, why?"
"OK, well, how do you feel about that, son?"
"Look, dad, Dix and I are friends. It doesn't change anything between us. I even came up with a name for us. We're the One-Two Punch!"
"Sean, from what I understand in talking to George, Tim felt that there wasn't a shittin' bit of difference between you two talent-wise. And this next thing is just between you and me: George said he thought Tim might be worried that if he won you would discontinue your friendship with him. George mentioned that had happened to Tim in the past. When the moment is right, but just as soon as possible, you need to have a talk with Tim and put him at ease. You two boys are cut from the same cloth, and you will make a great pair at Quarterback! I'm proud of how far you've come, son, from the unprepared Sophomore who had the entire weight of a team's hopes and dreams thrust upon him to an experienced talent that can go toe- to-toe with the best of `em. And you learned a valuable lesson: how to accept not getting everything you wanted and to take it like a man. Some people never learn that no matter how long they live! Well done, son!"
"Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt the love-fest, but it's 7:00. We gotta get going!" Andy said.
"Yer right!" Joe said, "Let's just go as we are, the Dickson's aren't formal people, and we got time to stop so I can get a bottle of something. This will call for a toast!"
"Am I going too?" Juan asked.
"Yes, son, we're all going. You're gonna meet some really nice people tonight, people who can help you." Joe answered, tousling Juan's hair.
The four men piled in the XTS. Joe stopped off at a liquor store and purchased a $150 bottle of Dom Perignon. Turing to Sean, he said, "Sean, when the toast is called for, I want you to rise, thank George and Peggy, and then give a warm, but short toast to Tim. I know how you can go on sometimes... Knowing George, he'll have already told Tim to toast you back."
Andy guffawed.
"Gee, thanks, dad. OK, it'll be short..."
Arriving at the Dickson's, Tim was already at the door before Joe could reach the doorbell. "Hey, Joe! Guys!" Tim said. "C'mon in! Dad's grilling some on mom's famous burgers, and we got all the fixin's and other stuff, too! You guys want a beer?"
"Dix, a beer would be great!" Sean said. "Whatever ya got!"
"You guys want glasses for the beers?"
"Tim, do we look like demanding guests! We'll drink the beer right out of the cans!" Joe said. "Oh, hey, Peggy! Thanks for inviting us over tonight! We really appreciate it, and Tim says your burgers are famous!"
"That they are! A few years back they actually got the Blue Ribbon at the County Fair! We're gonna have potato salad to go with, and then there's Key Lime pie for desert! Say, who do we have here? What's yer name, there, darlin'?"
"Peg, this is Juan. He blew in from the storm and I'll know for sure tomorrow, but he might just be staying. Juan, once we get outside and we're all seated I'd like you to introduce yourself. These people are our friends, and they're gonna be your friends, too, son."
"OK," Juan replied not knowing whether to smile or shit his pants.
"Mrs. Dix" Sean said, he always called her Mrs. Dix which she found endearing, "is there anything I can do to help? I'm pretty handy in the kitchen, and I'd be gladly to!"
"Nonsense, Sean! I've got it all under control, the table's all set out on the patio, and we're pretty much good to go! We're just so glad you could come! You know, there is one little thing you could help me with before you go out back... You come help me, now. Joe, Andy, Juan, you go out back with Tim and tell George to hurry up with that grill."
Sean followed Peggy to the kitchen. "What can I do, Mrs. Dix?"
"Oh, Sean, I got the whole dinner done, don'tcha know, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute just me and you is all..."
"Um, OK..."
"Well, Sean, it's just that I think Tim feels sorta bad that the Coach made the choice he did. What I mean is, he knows that both of you were just as good as the other one, but he thinks that you might not want to be his good friend anymore because the Coach put him at first string and not you. That's not right, now, is it, Sean?"
"Mrs. Dix, my dad mentioned something like that just before we came over. Of course it's not right! My God! Tim was the first one to welcome me and Andy and we hadn't even been in this town two days. Why on Earth would he think I wouldn't want to be his friend? Mrs. Dix, Tim's friendship is right here!" Sean said pointing to his heart. "And just so you know, I think it's better that he's number one. Tim is very special to me. I'm not going anywhere as his friend! What do I have to do to make him see that?"
"You wait right here, Sean! I'll be back in a jiffy!"
Peggy made her way out onto the patio. "Timothy! I need you in the kitchen for a minute!"
"Coming, mom..." Tim said as he put down his beer and followed his mother back into the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, Peggy looked at both boys and said, "Now I want the both of you to sit down over there and listen to me once. Sean and Tim, now here ya go! You two are meant to be friends. Timothy, I just got done talking to Sean. Now, Sean, I wantcha to tell Tim what you told me. Word for word. And Timothy you don't open yer mouth till Sean's done. OK, Sean, go!"
Sean recounted what he had said to Peggy.
"OK! Now, Timothy, I want you to look at Sean and tell him there isn't gonna be any more of this nonsense that you think he might not want you for a friend! Sean just toldja now that your friendship is right there in his heart. Go on, now, Tim..."
Tim turned to Sean and said, "Wymo, I don't really have any words. It's just that this has happened before to me where the other person said they were OK but then started hating me. I'm so sorry, Wymo! Mom, if we had a bro hug is that OK?"
"Oh, you two can have all the damn bro hugs ya want, I don't give a shit! I just don't wanna hear any more of this bullcrap, now do ya hear me? No more, now, OK?"
"OK, mom/Mrs.Dix," both boys replied in stereo.
"OK, now there's one last thing before you boys head back outside! I got three shots of Jaeger over here with three beer chasers. We're gonna drink to this, just you guys and me, don'tcha know... OK, boys, one, two, three, Prost!" Down the hatch all three shots and chasers went. "There, we sorted through that crud, didn't we now, boys!"
Both boys looked sheepish, but at the same time this was the ultimate cementing of their friendship.
"Wymo, I'm sorry, man."
Sean pointed to his heart again and said, "Right here, Dix!"
Tim did the same. "Right here, Wymo!"
"Care for a dance?" Sean smirked.
Tim playfully shoved him. "Maybe at Homecoming..."
"I'm holdin' ya to that, man, and I mean it... You're fucking dancing with me at Homecoming!"
"You two get outta here, now!" Peg admonished. "Go on! Go! Out! On the patio and have a beer with your fathers! I'm tellin' ya, between you two hooligans I shoulda had more kids! NOT! You'll be the death of me, you two!"
Sean and Tim giggled and headed out to the patio.
"What was that all about?" Andy asked, brows knitted.
"Well, Cass, my Mom made me and Wymo sit down and cut the shit about any hard feelings that I imagined there might be about the team depth chart. It was all my fault. I got all tied up in knots over nothing. I shoulda known better, especially after these last couple of weeks. I feel like a complete turd..."
"I'll let you wallow in your complete turdhood over there for a little while, Dix," Sean smirked, sticking his tongue out at Tim. "Butcha still gotta dance with me at Homecoming. That's the price ya pay, bro..."
"Don't stick yer tongue out unless you mean business, Wymo!" Tim shot back.
The entire table burst out laughing. George almost choked on his beer.
"OK, guys!" Peggy said. "We're good to go on dinner as soon as George gets the burgers off the grill."
"Sounds good, Mrs. Dix!" Sean said.
"Almost ready on the burgers!" George called as he began pulling them off the Weber charcoal grill and onto a platter.
Once everyone was seated, George looked at Juan and instructed him to introduce himself. Juan did so flawlessly, not leaving anything out. After he finished, Peggy had a tear in her eye, and George fondled his wattles, carefully thinking of how he might be of service to the boy if needed. George then turned to Tim. "Tim, son, you say grace tonight."
"OK, Dad, here we go: Father in Heaven, we're thankful for the food on this table tonight. We're thankful for the company of the friends and family at this table, and for our new friend, Juan. I am also thankful for these friends and family who showed me how to have the strength to be myself. Amen."
"OK, everybody dig in! Eat up!" Peggy said as they all helped themselves.
"Jeez, Mrs. Dix, this potato salad is awesome! I mean, Sean-o's is good, but this is unreal! How do you make it?" Andy asked.
"Well, Andrew, it's nothing more than the recipe on the back of the Hellman's Mayo jar. That's all it is, sweety!"
"No way!" Sean exclaimed.
"Way, Sean..." Peggy said.
"And these burgers are great, George! How do you get them to be like this?" Joe asked.
"Well, Joe, it's Peg's recipe. The meat, I mean. I get it at the butcher shop downtown. It's an 80/20 Angus beef from trimmings and then for each pound we add an ounce by weight per pound of frozen beef suet that we put through the meat grinder on the Kitchen Aid. Right before grilling, they get a little salt and pepper on each side, and that's it. Then cook em over medium coals 4 minutes a side being sure the meat is room temperature when it hits the grill. And ya don't make em real thick – that way they cook fast and get crispy on the outside. There's no real magic to great burgers. We like `em on these toasted English muffins because the crunch complements the burgers and the nooks and crannies catch all the juice from the meat! That's really all there is to it!"
"Well, these are the best I ever had!" Sean exclaimed, eyes wide. "Say, we brought a little something for a toast, and we might as well do it now. Mrs. Dix, can I run inside and get some champagne flutes?"
"Oh, sure, Sean. You know right where they are in the china cupboard, hon!"
"OK, be right back!"
Sean proceeded inside and he knew where the Dickson's china cupboard was because that cupboard had glass panes in the doors so one could see inside. Opening the door, he reached in to get out six flutes when he heard the doorbell ring.
Not sure what exactly to do, Sean decided that since he was the only one inside the house he would answer the door and whichever one of the Dickson's the person on the other side was looking for, he'd bring them back to the patio on his way out. Pulling the door open, Sean was greeted by the sight of Brett on the other side. Sean didn't like what he saw.
"Um, hey, Brett. Everyone's out on the patio and I just came in to get some glasses. Hey, what's up dude? I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit!"
"Is Tim home?" was all that Brett said. He seemed nervous and appeared to be shaking slightly.
"Yeah, he's out on the patio with everyone else. Mr. and Mrs. Dix are out there, and my dad and Andy. We're just having dinner. Maybe you're hungry, or something?" Sean was getting concerned at this point.
"Um...sure...fine," Brett stuttered out. "I'll wait here. Can you just send Tim in? Please?"
"Um, OK, dude. Look, I mean...never mind, I'll just go get Tim."
Sean returned to the kitchen, grabbed the champagne flutes, and upon returning to the patio said while still standing, "Um, Dix, when I was inside someone rang the front doorbell. It's Brett. He's in the foyer and he says he wants to talk to you."
"Oh, why don'tcha just tell Brett to come and join us now, Timmy!" Peggy said. "I can set an extra place in a snap, and we have more than enough food don'tcha know!"
"Sure, mom. I'll be right back!" Tim hopped up, smiling, glad that his boyfriend stopped by.
Tim flew through the house, to the foyer and his jaw dropped. "Hey, sweetheart! Why the long face? What's going on?" Tim's heart leapt into his throat. He knew it had all been too good to be true.
END CHAPTER EIGHTEEN