My Name Is River Blue (28 page)

At Tolley House,
Jeff not only enjoyed eating all his meals in peace with no bullies to bother him,
we gave him the attention he deserved. We all spoiled the lovable kid so much
that Jenny and Hal had a hard time correcting him. Since he loved football and
wanted to play for the Hawks when he was old enough, Ant and I took time each
week to teach him more about the game. We agreed that it felt good to have a
kid look up to us as Jeff did.

Ant tried to
explain to Jeff. "Coach doesn't want any quarterbacks getting hurt on
special teams, and he has to have them giving the signals because they know the
offense better than any other players do. It keeps their heads in the game in
case they have to play."

Jeff wasn't
satisfied. "Well, I seen all three quarterbacks run plays on fan day, and River
is the best passer. Just don't make sense to me not to play him."

Everyone at the
table smiled at Jeff, who idolized Ant and me. "I think River is the best,
too," agreed Ant.

"See,"
said Jeff. "The coach ought to play River."

I finished my
last bite of dinner and knuckled-rubbed Jeff's head. I wrapped my arms around
him from behind and pulled him up to sit on my knee.

"Listen,
little dude, Coach Haney knows what's best for the team. The other two guys have
been on the team longer than I have, and they deserve a chance to show what
they can do. Papa agrees with the coach that I need a lot more practice reps
before I'm ready to start a game. I have to be patient and learn my job better.
One day, it'll be my turn."

"Being
patient sucks a big one," said Jeff.

"Jeff!"
Jenny gave Jeff her stern look, and the rest of us laughed, including Hal.

That night in our
room, Ant and I held our usual short, nightly chat after we settled across from
each other under the covers of our beds.

"Is Carlee
excited about going to her first after-game dance?" Ant asked.

"Oh my god,
yeah," I answered. "She won't shut up about it, and I wish I wasn't
going. You saw how much I had to spend for new clothes that suited her and
wouldn't clash with her outfit when we danced. All that trouble and she's still
scared to admit that I'm her boyfriend."

"Well, you
might as well get used to doing what she wants. Carlee has you wrapped and
you'll never escape."

I looked at Ant
as if he were crazy. "Don't count on it."

"RB, a girl
as hot as Carlee with her brains? You don't stand a chance. You two might fight
and even break up, but I'm telling you, she'll win in the end. They always
do."

"And I
should believe that why? Because of all your years of experience?" It was
funny to hear another high school freshman trying to sound like a veteran of mature
relationships.

"Yo, whatever
you think, RB. Anyway, it's gonna be fun, and I'm making the most of my first
varsity dance. I plan on Tina and me finding a dark corner for some tongue action."

"There are
gonna be chaperones, dummy. I wish I could find a dark corner too, but only so
I could hide."

"Still
worried about dancing in front of everyone?"

"You would
be too if you sucked as bad as I do. You caught on to every step Jenny showed
you, and I only crushed her feet. Hal almost had a stroke from laughing so
hard, and the guys that are jealous of the attention I get will do the same
thing."

"If you
ever stop growing, maybe that'll help," reasoned Ant. "You're like
over six feet. That's kinda tall for fourteen, dude."

"Yeah, but
you're only two inches shorter. Plus, you added more height than I did over the
summer, and you were smooth as butter when you practiced with Jenny."

"Yo, RB. You
ain't never gonna be as smooth as a brother," bragged Ant. "I think
you got them dancing feet from yo cracker side."

"Shut up
and go to sleep, you damn caramel-assed racist."

Ant cackled, and
I cut off the lamp between our beds before he saw me smiling.

"Goodnight,
Antman."

"Night,
RB."

***

Papa once
recommended that I try a fun experiment that would teach me something. He told
me when I was ready to go to bed for the night to make notes predicting the
following day's events that would directly or indirectly affect me. The first
time I tried Papa's idea was the Wednesday night prior to our first game of the
season on Friday, and I didn't even come close to guessing what would happen on
the day before our game.

"You never
know what tomorrow may bring" was an expression I had heard many times.
Shortly after nine o'clock in the morning on Thursday, the day before our
season opener against Iverson, I learned that the saying was born from the kind
of news that stunned me when I first heard it. I also learned that if you think
you know what goes on in the lives of the people you see every day, you're
wrong. Three of my teammates convinced me.

I was sitting
with Carlee in my American History class, taught by Mrs. Boozer, the oldest and
most boring teacher in the school. She was one of the few people I knew who
openly hated the football team and the amount of support we received. That day,
she was leading the class in a discussion about early colonial life, and my
attention was divided between the lesson and Carlee's scent, which had me
thinking of things vastly different from colonial America.

I paid little attention
to Cody Smalls when he entered the classroom to give Mrs. Boozer a note. Cody was
one of the nerdy, honor students, who used his free period each day to assist the
high school office staff so that they would give him a glowing letter of
reference to use on his college applications. His last name was appropriate
since his physical stature was more common for the average sixth grader than
for a high school senior.

Mrs. Boozer, who
was never happy with interruptions, snatched the note from Cody and scanned it.
She very rudely told me to take my books and go with Cody to the office. Carlee
and I glanced at each other, and I shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea who
wanted me or why.

I was sure that
Cody wasn't supposed to discuss anything he heard in the office, but I was too
curious not to try. "Do you know what this is about?"

"You know
I'm not allowed to tell you if I did. Besides I don't have the time it would
take to draw pictures, so a freshman jock could understand." Cody, as most
seniors did, thought he was hilariously funny when he jabbed at a freshman, and
in Cody's case, he also showed obvious disdain for athletes. I thought of
asking him if he was related to Mrs. Boozer, but instead, I tried to goad him
into answering me.

"I think
it's more like you came up with a witty remark instead of admitting that you
don't know shit."

Cody stopped and
pointed his finger at my chest. "Well, if
you
knew shit, you
wouldn't be asking. So either you don't know the news about your own teammates,
or you
do
know, and you're too dumb to figure out who thinks it's
important to talk to you about it."

He lost me.
"Okay, you win. What about my teammates?"

"You really
don't know? Last night, the police arrested Casey Hampton, Josh Greer, and Joe
Cummings. Possession with intent. The cops caught them with enough dope to get
the entire senior class high. Too much for even football players to get away
with in this retarded, jock-sniffing town."

"Holy shit."
It occurred to me that I had not seen any of those guys at school that morning.

"I knew
they would get caught one day. They talked too much," reasoned Cody.
"They invited people to parties where they provided the weed, and then
they would turn some of their guests into new customers. I'm surprised that the
word never got to Coach Haney."

"I was in
the locker room with them every day, and I didn't know either. I mean I would
sometimes hear one of them make a joke about partying, but I never heard anyone
admit to using weed."

"Yeah, well,
now you know what they do at their little parties," said Cody. "I'm
surprised they didn't invite you to smoke with them yet."

His words jolted
me. "Shit. Some of us were late getting away from practice last night, and
Casey offered to take Ant, Max, and me home. Josh and Joe were already set to
ride with him, but Casey said there was room for us, and he wanted to show us
something on the way."

Cody
interrupted. "Were any of you stupid enough to go?"

"No. We
figured those guys wanted to get in one last round of hazing before the first
game, so Ant and I told them that our guardians didn't allow us to ride with
anyone else. Max said his parents were taking him out to eat straight from
practice. Now I wonder if Casey was going to take us somewhere to smoke
pot."

"They probably
wanted to make you new guys as dirty as them to keep you from ratting on them,
plus they would make a few bucks selling it to you if you wanted more. Good
thing you guys weren't with them when they got busted."

"How did
they get caught, Cody?"

"I heard
they were stopped for speeding right after practice. The cop smelled weed and
searched their car. Just bad luck, I guess."

"I'm glad
we weren't in that car. It gives me chills." I didn't say it to Cody, but
I knew that Ant and I could have been on our way back to Stockwell.

"Well, here
we are," said Cody, nodding to the office door. "You don't seem so
bad for a jock. Don't let those morons rub off on you. Good luck in the game
tomorrow night and save Harper Springs High or whatever it is you super jocks
are supposed to do."

"Thanks,
Cody."

The game
. The school
suspended any athlete, arrested on drug charges, from participating in sports
until the outcome of his legal proceedings. If Cody's story were true, then our
number one and number two quarterbacks, along with our starting tailback would
not play in the first game. I was the only quarterback left, and I had not
practiced nearly the number of reps that Casey and Josh had. I had taken snaps
only on the most basic plays. Coach Haney and Coach Booker, the offensive
coordinator, had planned to bring me up to speed as we had time. Maybe I should
have been excited to be the starter, but I was scared because I simply wasn't
ready.

Max Summers was
the only other player on the varsity who had ever played quarterback, and he
had zero reps at that position because the coaches didn't believe his stature
was suitable. Over the previous year, his body had taken a shape perfectly
suited for a tailback, but not for a quarterback who needed to see over his
linemen to pass the ball downfield. Max realized that he would never gain
enough height to play quarterback, so he put all his effort into the tailback
job.

Max admitted
that things had turned out for the best after he lost QB1 to me the prior year
because he had a year's experience as a tailback when he began varsity
practice. He was good enough that he was listed as second on the depth chart. I
wondered how Max would feel when he found out that he would replace Joe
Cummings as the starting tailback.

I assumed that
Coach Haney would promote the junior varsity starting quarterback, Eric Mize,
to varsity to train as my backup, but it would take time before he could be
effective.

Inside the main
office, I was directed to Principal Wilson's private office where I wasn't
surprised to see Coach Haney and Max Summers. The coach looked as if his wife
had run off with his best friend and took the kids and the family dog with her.
Principal Wilson stared out his window, and was oblivious to the fact that I
had just entered his office. I assumed that he was worrying about the financial
impact of a sorry season on the athletic department. Max, who was the only one
acting normal, greeted me with a wink and a nod before rolling his eyes towards
the two men. Finally, Coach Haney acknowledged me.

"River, as
I have just told Max, your class schedule is cancelled for today and tomorrow
along with any other plans you had. You are now QB1, and we have a lot of work
to do."

***

Walter E.
Rollins Memorial Stadium, home of the Harper Springs Hawks, sold out for the
Friday night season opener against the Iverson Knights. The citizens of Harper
Springs were justifiably proud of their new stadium, which was the largest and
most modern in that half of the state. Even the players of opposing teams had
commented during the previous season that the visiting team's locker room was
nicer than their own at their home stadium. Everyone in Harper Springs, who was
involved in the project of building the new stadium and the additional athletic
facilities, graciously accepted all the compliments they received from visitors,
and the only thing that slightly dampened their enthusiasm was their concern
over paying for that part of their dream that exceeded government funding.

The city leaders
and boosters all knew that it would be a tight squeeze to meet their financial
obligations and stay within their budget. The key to success was the
performance of the athletic teams, and the play of the varsity football team
was critical. Harper Springs could not afford a mediocre season where the fans and
alumni became disenchanted. They needed a capacity crowd for each home game and
after the regular season, they needed high seeding so that they could host a
couple of playoff games. During all of those games, they needed fans to buy
sodas, food, candy, and snacks at the concession stands. The stadium also held
two Hawks' stores, one on each side of the stadium, where they hoped to sell Hawks'
merchandise such as tee shirts, caps, cups, clocks, banners, calendars, and
dozens of other novelty items they had on consignment from various vendors.