NOTE: This is the fictional coming of age story of Jake Grimke as he matures through high school, into college and eventually into adulthood in the Baltimore, Maryland region. It contains and embraces accurate representations of life in Baltimore and its suburbs; Maryland's traditional sport of lacrosse and the career path a firefighter might follow in his profession. All of the characters in this story are fictional and resemblance to any one person whether dead or alive is purely coincidental. If you liked this installment, please send me some feed back; I got a rough idea where this is headed but I am always open to some suggestions. Needless to say, if you are offended by handsome athletic young men growing up gay and the obstacles they will encounter as well their personal triumphs, you should use the BACK button on your browser forthwith.
Jake could almost picture Will's mom, Angela, hanging out with his mom and Annie Harmes on one of their girls-only shopping trips. She was a beautiful petite Asian woman with exceptionally well-defined features that stood in stark contrast to the strapping figure of Will's father Jim, who only recently retired from the United States Marine Corps as a full colonel and just accepted a position with the National Security Administration at nearby Fort George C. Meade. And Jake could almost see his own father and Jim talking football or fishing while having a few cold beers and it made him smile as they all enjoyed Saturday night supper at the Hurleys.
"Will says you're headed to UVa in the fall, is that right son?" the colonel asked.
"Yes sir; and please call me Jake," Jake replied adding in a non-offensive tone, preferring that only his natural father refer to him as son.
"Well, we are very excited that young Will here is headed to NYU in the fall," the colonel continued, "they have a prestigious arts program there, hopefully he will find something he likes and do well with it."
"Colonel," Jake started, sensing the intensity of regimentation in the Hurley house, "you can be proud of Will, he is smart and a real go-getter."
Angela, without a trace of any accent, jumped in, "So what do you boys have plans for tonight?"
Will said, "we're going to meet everybody at the mall, see the new Pixar animated movie."
"And tomorrow, we're all going to the Governor's Mansion for a private tour," Jake added.
The colonel, with his eye brows scrunched together, asked directly to Will, "and who is this everybody, this we?"
"Well, Jake and I, Evan and Jackie, Aaron and Shelia are all going to meet our friend Erik Syms there since he lives in the Governor's Mansion now," Will enumerated.
"How come I've never met any of these people before Will?" the colonel demanded to know.
Jake jumped in, "The guys are my friends from the lacrosse team and we play in a band together at school. We're all going over there to work on a class project."
The colonel's interrogation continued, his curiosity unsatisfied, "What sort of project is this?"
And before Jake could formulate an answer, Will spewed out, "extra credit sir."
A smile finally appeared on the retired colonel's face as he heard Will's answer, making him say, "very well then, carry on; can't hurt to have a few extra points in the grade book boys."
"Yes Sir" Jake and Will answered together as they left for the mall in Jake's Saab.
On their way to the Mall, Will reached over and put his left hand on top of Jake's right hand resting on the shift lever in the center of the car. Jake smiled as he felt Will squeeze his hand, "I got great news, Evan's dad has agreed to help with whatever we need."
"Oh yeah?" asked Will elatedly.
"Yep," Jake went on, "Ev and I spent the day at Children's which might be the last for while once lacrosse kicks in to full gear. Evan says his dad must have been incredibly guilt-ridden and offered up anything we could think of so we need to have a good meeting tomorrow and then spool this bird up and dump it in his old man's lap."
"Jake, we can't just take advantage of his generosity like that," Will cautioned.
"You know what I mean; we hammer out the rough draft, get it to Mr. Harmes who polishes it for us, or at least tells us where we need to polish it, what will work or not work," Jake said as a better interpreted his concept to Will.
"Okay, now, what all are we going to do for music," asked Will.
"Leave that alone for now," Jake said, "but personally, I kind of like to do a modern twist on some of the classic rock stuff, like we did at Christmas. Look over there, everybody is waiting for us."
And even though Anna had her boyfriend at home in Munich, Erik made sure she got to all the school functions and hung out with "in-crowd" as was the norm at most American high schools and Severn was no exception to that unwritten rule of American life. Trooper Marsh had Saturday and Sunday off but the black Chevy Suburban didn't and it was manned by a relief trooper from the Governor's security detail. Everybody laughed and enjoyed the new Pixar release and before long, it was time for all of them to be home at their responsible hour.
The next day, after the private tour of the Governor's Mansion everybody was treated to a brunch in the family dining room. Once the dishes were cleared, Will brought the steering committee meeting to order. Evan announced that his father would be more than glad to help in any way, shape or form to get the project rolling from brainstorm to full-fledged production. The Mohawks formed their own sub-committee to come up with a play list and recruit student musicians who might have an interest in playing for the concert.
On Tuesday, January 8th, the Mohawks were already running the stadium step aisles at 2:30 pm as they did the week before, just as the first of the lacrosse wannabees showed up for tryouts. They concentrated on their running, catching glimpses of returning veterans and candidates.
Each of them watched from the sideline of the practice field as Coach Dase and his assistants put them all through basic stick and ball handling drills. "Oh fuck, is that Michaels with a long-pole?" noticed Beecher.
"I believe you are right, Aaron," confirmed Erik also noting the now omnipresent Chevy Suburban keeping tabs on them as well.
"You know we are hurting on defense this year Jake," Aaron posed to the team captain and anybody else listening, "he started long-pole on JV last year but I'm not sure he's got enough game to make varsity."
Jake observed, not really wanting to give any credit to his own and Will's antagonizer, "he's got speed, I'll say that much for him. I bet Dase waves him on to the next round."
"You okay with that Jake?" Ev asked.
"I don't have a choice, if he's got game fine," Jake continued, assessing the antagonizer's stick skills, "otherwise, he's a senior, and if he doesn't make it past the cuts, he doesn't play. Not my say so, that rests with the coaches."
The four reached into their gear bags and put on last year's gloves and helmets that became this year's practice gear before they picked up their sticks and enjoyed a good throwing session while watching the tryouts. As the last coach's whistle blew from tryouts, a lone figure walked towards them, carrying his JV helmet, gloves and defense length stick.
"Hey guys," said Chord, sensing a little bit of a collective cold shoulder from the Mohawks, "Hey Jake."
"Chord, how'd tryouts go?" Jake neutrally asked.
"Not bad so far, but that's not what I am really here about," expanded Michaels.
"Oh?" asked Evan, "you come over here and try to be nice to Jake now after how you acted at Jackie's?"
"Let's hear him out guys," said the team captain,looking at each player before letting Chord continue.
"Listen, Jake, I did you wrong at Jackie's, I did all of you wrong at her party but especially you Jake," Chord said, first looking at the ground before he looked each of them in the eye, "I owe all of you an apology and if you could see it in your hearts to forgive me, I promise I'll be better: no more name calling, no more locker room mischief, I swear it."
He continued, making eye contact directly with Jake, "I've known you since we started here; when we were freshmen together in Mr. McMahon's geometry section, you kept me from failing that class and helped pull me through it. And what I did at Jackie's, what I said, that was the worst thing I could have said to you or Will, the worst possible word I could have used. I'm sorry Jake, I'm really really sorry."
Jake looked at him, then his team mates before looking back at Chord and brought up his stick, pressing the crosse of it into Chord's unprotected chest and holding it there firmly, "I'll forgive you on one condition."
"Name it," Chord replied, "I'll do anything."
"Tomorrow at senior lunch, you come to our table and you apologize to Will Hurley, in front of everybody, Jackie, Shelia, Joey, Anna, I mean everybody Chord, the same people you embarrassed him in front of at Jackie's party; that's my condition," Jake proffered.
"I can do that, I'll do that Jake, I promise, senior lunch tomorrow," Chord vowed.
Jake nodded, "We got a few more minutes here; Chord, why don't you get your helmet on, glove up and show us how much game you got."
"Really?" Chord asked.
"Yeah, Beecher here needs another long-poler back there to keep him company while the rest of us are on the front line," Jake said with his usual understated confidence.