Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game (18 page)

There was quite a crowd for a Wednesday
night. Maddie led me up the aisle to a bench full of teenage
girls—and one or two Bible toting guys. It had never crossed my
mind about Maddie having friends. I mean, our sole connection was
Jake, and besides him, we ran in very different circles. But once
we got in the church, I saw she was the Queen Bee of the Godly
Circuit. Her friends all sized me up. Some of them I recognized
from school. I could help noticing that a few gave me disapproving
looks like I was Big Bad Wolf leading Maddie astray.

“Hi guys, this is Noah,” Maddie introduced.

“Hi Noah,” they said together before the younger ones
dissolved in giggles.

“Hey,” I replied giving a lame wave. Maddie urged me
to take a seat. Thankfully, it was next to one of the guys. When he
glanced over at me, he stiffened and readjusted his glasses on his
nose. Suddenly, I remembered he was one of the kids Jake used to
pick on to get homework out of. I wanted to hold up my hands and
say, “I come in peace.”

Instead, I flashed my most convincing grin and said,
“Hey man, how’s it going?”

“Fine,” he squeaked. He turned his head and began
talking to the girl beside him, and I didn’t blame him one bit. Now
that I was on his turf, it was my turn to shift nervously in my
seat. Thankfully, my slight heart palpitations eased when Maddie
sat down beside me. Her delicious perfume filled my nostrils, and I
sighed with contentment.

A wiry looking man with glasses stood up and motioned
for Maddie’s mom. She came up from her place on the front row to
play the piano.

“Let’s look to page seventy-two,” the man’s voice
boomed. The members of the choir rose from their benches behind the
pulpit. Pastor Dan came out in his robe, and once again, I felt
like cuing the
Seventh Heaven
music.
Maddie handed me a song book out of the holder from the bench in
front of us.

I shook my head. “Uh-I don’t think I-”

“I think you can,” she replied with a smile.

Reluctantly, I flipped to page seventy-two. When I
saw the title of the song, it was like every molecule in my body
shuddered to a stop. It was my Granddaddy’s favorite song. He used
to sing it all the time. In church. Out fishing. Mowing the lawn. I
closed my eyes as the deep timber of his voice echoed through my
mind. He put his heart and soul to every line, giving inflection on
the parts that meant something to him. Although he loved Frank
Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Perry Como, he never sang them like he
did this song.

Mrs. Parker struck the first few chords, and the
congregation raised their voices in song. It felt like my lips were
cemented together with Crazy Glue or something. I couldn’t for the
life of me sing. Hell, I could barely breathe. I felt like I was in
a tripped out flashback. All I could think about was my
granddaddy.

Since I’d never known my real father, Granddaddy was
the only father I’d ever had. When he died two years ago, it
shattered me. I know he loved all his grandkids, but he made me
feel like I was the most special. Maybe he felt sorry for me
because I didn’t have a dad, or maybe it was because I was “his
Maggie’s” little boy.

Whatever it was, it was the most fucking special
thing I’ve ever experienced on this earth.

Granddaddy was the one who bought me my first guitar
and taught me how to play. I practically pissed my pants with
excitement when I moved from sitting next to him, eyes wide with
wonderment as his fingers strummed the chords, to balancing on his
lap with the guitar in front of me. I never felt happier or safer
nestled his strong arms while his calloused fingertips directed my
tiny ones along the frets. Damn, the patience that man must have
had. Needless to say Grammy didn’t, because after a few days of
lessons, she banished us outside to the porch.

Granddaddy never lost his smile as he listened to me
work the chords into a melody. “You’ve got God given talent, son.
Don’t you ever forget that,” he’d say before spitting a wad of
tobacco into his cup.

With a shrug, I’d protest, “But I’m not good at
sports, Granddaddy.” After all, each and every one of his sons and
grandsons were involved in some sport. For years, he practically
lived at either the baseball diamond, the football stadium, the
basketball gym.

Granddaddy’s worn and wrinkled hand would come to
stroke his weathered chin thoughtfully. “Being athletic is a good
talent to have, son, but one day it is of no use to you. My boys
shone as bright stars once upon a time, but now all that has
dimmed. It served them well with scholarships, but not a one is
still using their talents. But music…” His face would break into a
wide grin. “Music is timeless. I’ve played all the days of my life,
and I’ll play until my dying day.”

My conversations with Granddaddy always felt kinda
like Forest Gump and his mama. He always had a way of explaining
things to me to where I could not only understand, but I could also
get the bigger meaning out of. He could make me feel ten feet tall
with just a look.

I’d just started tenth grade when he started acting
funny. He’d forget things, or he’d make all the wall statements.
Mom and Grammy got worried that he might have the beginning stages
of Alzheimer’s Disease. So, they finally convinced him to go to the
doctor.

But he didn’t have Alzheimer’s. Instead, a MRI
revealed he had a brain tumor. Something called Glioblastoma. A
real badass tumor that’s like a spider. It has a fat body that
surgery can remove, but it’s the spider-like legs that get imbedded
in your brain and fuck up your life.

Granddaddy’s diagnosis was one of those life-altering
moments when you’re sure the earth skidded to a stop on its axis.
It would have to, wouldn’t it? How was it possible for the world to
keep right on turning when my Granddaddy was going to die?

Yet somehow it did. Within my family, it was a
hellish blur of agony. Grammy brought Granddaddy home, and Mom and
her siblings rallied around to take care of him. They moved a
hospital bed into the living room, so there’d be more room for him
to be surrounded by his family. My uncles took turns staying
nights. They didn’t want to leave Grammy or my mom by
themselves.

One night, I stayed up with him. It was close to the
end, and he’d been sleeping most of the time. I was trying to read
a book for my literature class when he opened his eyes and glanced
over at me. “Noah,” he whispered.

“What’s wrong, Granddaddy? You need something?”

He shook his head. With a weak flick of his wrist, he
beckoned me closer. “Want to tell you somethin’.” His voice was
gravely and weak as if it took everything in him to speak. I leaned
forward as far as I could on my chair beside the bed. My elbows
pressed into the metal railings of his hospital bed.

“I’m right here, Granddaddy.”

He smiled. “You know, I was so angry when your mama
got pregnant. I didn’t want her to keep you. I wanted her to give
you to a family who could provide for you better than she
could.”

I gasped as his words stung me. I couldn’t imagine
these were the final thoughts he wanted to tell me.

He gave a little rattle of a laugh. “I ain’t
finished, son.”

I gave him a relieved smile. “Oh, okay.”

“But the minute you were born, your mama called for
me. I went into that room still bound and determined for her to
give you up. But there she was holding you to her chest, and the
love she had for you was written all over her face. She handed you
to me, and I took you in my arms…” Tears welled in Granddaddy’s
dark eyes. “And it was instant love. The same love I’d had for my
boys and for your mama. I knew right then and there you were meant
to be with your mama and with our family.”

Although I tried fighting them, tears pooled in my
eyes and spilled over my cheeks. Damn them! I didn’t want his last
sight of me to be that of a blubbering pansy.

As if he could read my mind, Granddaddy shook his
head. “Don’t be ashamed of your emotions, Noah. Experience them and
embrace them. They’re what make us alive and strong.”

I nodded. “I’ll try.”

“There’s something I want you to have, and I’ve told
all the boys.”

“What is it, Granddaddy?” My mind whirled with
possibilities. He wanted me to have his rifle with the silver
casing, or the pinky ring his mother had given him. I was off by a
long shot.

“It’s the Sullivan family Bible.” The look on my face
betrayed me again because Granddaddy chuckled. “Thought I had a
treasure for you, huh?”

“Maybe.”

He grinned. “It
is
a treasure, Noah. It came
all the way over from Ireland with my father. It’s been passed down
through many generations. It’s supposed to be given to the first
son of every family, but I want you to have it.”

“But why me Granddaddy?”

“Because you need it. Mark is already the strong head
of his family. But you’re missing part of yourself because of your
father. This Bible will show you that no matter what happens with
him, you’re whole. When you’ve got family who love you and care
about you like our family, Noah, you’re a rich man.”

“Then I’ll take it.”

He smiled. “Good. And one day years from now, you’ll
turn to the words themselves for answers, and when you do, you’ll
find more treasure there within its pages.”

“We’ll see,” I said.

“Give me a hug, Noah.”

I leaned over the bed and gathered up his withered
form as best I could. I kissed his cheek weathered with age. “I
love you, Granddaddy,” I murmured in his ear.

“I love you, too, Noah.”

He died the next morning. I cried for two days
straight. But when I got to the funeral, I was as stoic as a
soldier, even when Alex and my other cousins wailed and boohooed
all around me. Of course, I’d been shadowed the whole time. Someone
never left my side. We even slept side by side in my bed for the
first time since grade school.

That person was Jake.

I questioned him why he would want to give up his
Friday and Saturday nights to sit at home with me while we took
care of Granddaddy. “Dude, that man,” he said, gesturing towards
the living room where Granddaddy lay in his hospital bed, “has
treated me like I was one of his family since I was five years old.
Hell, sometimes he’s treated me better than my own father. I love
him just as much as I do my PawPaw.”

His words had touched me. But it was his actions that
were truly heroic. One night, Granddaddy started having seizures,
and we had to stay up round the clock to give him medicine under
his tongue. Mom and Grammy were worn out by 2:00am, so Jake and I
stayed up. Every hour we got up from the couch we shared to give
Granddaddy his medicine.

But now Jake was gone, and the pain was overwhelming.
It tore through my chest and into my throat. A suffocating pain
like a giant’s hands were squeezing and constricting my lungs. I
was ten and under the surface of the water again, and this time
there was no Jake to save me. I was going to drown sitting right
there on the bench. I had to get out of there—I could no longer
breathe or keep this inside me.

Without a word to anyone, I bolted up from my seat.
“Noah?” Maddie asked before I scrambled over her. Even though I
wanted to haul ass, I knew I would draw attention to myself if I
ran out of the church, so I did my best speed walking down the
aisle.

Bursting through the double doors, I sprinted off the
steps and started weaving through the cars in the parking lot. At
the edge of the property was an old brush arbor where the church
had sometimes met. Old wooden benches were laid out under a wooden
awning.

I collapsed onto one of them. I clamped my hand over
my mouth to stop the sobs, but they wouldn’t be contained. They
spilled through my fingers and filled the air around me. It was
like a dam had collapsed in my mind, and thoughts and emotions
coursed through me.

Suck it up! Be a man!

It was instant love…..I love you, Noah.

Don’t let the emotions out. Keep them buried.

Hey man, don’t make me duct tape you again. You
know, I’m here for you no matter what. We’re best buds,
remember?

No one wants to see the real you. Keep it hidden.
They won’t love you if they see the real you.

Suddenly, someone gently touched my shoulder. I
jerked away, but the hand found me again. “Noah, I’m sorry. I’m so,
so sorry,” Maddie whispered into my ear.

Instead of the comfort I should have felt,
mortification flooded through me so hard I shuddered. No. No. No!
She hadn’t seen me like this. This was a fucking nightmare. As much
as I hated admitting it to myself, I’d felt a flicker of something
for her—something I didn’t know what the hell was, and I hoped she
was feeling something too. But how could she now after seeing me a
blubbering pansy?

Finally, I dared myself to look up at her. Tears
streamed down her cheeks. There was such acceptance and
understanding of me along with my pain in her eyes that I didn’t
want to run away. Instead, I reach out to grab her hips, pulling
her to me. Without hesitation, I buried my head in her waist. She
cradled my head in her arms, running her fingers through hair.

I didn’t run away from my emotions. I let them
envelop me. I wept openly and without shame, and for the first time
in a long time, I felt safe.

When I finally finished, I wiped my eyes on the back
of my hand. Maddie eased down beside me on the bench. “Are you
okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about spazzing out like that.”

“Oh Noah, you don’t have to apologize. You’ve just
lost your best friend. It’s totally understandable,” Maddie
argued.

“It’s not just about Jake…”

Her dark brows rose in surprise. “Oh?”

I nodded. “My grandfather was the only dad I’ve ever
known. He passed away two years ago. That was his favorite song you
guys were singing,” I explained.