Nothing Else Matters (23 page)

Friday Nov. 14

Two days later, when the doctor cleared me for visitors, several of my classmates came to visit me in the hospital. There was a steady stream of students in and out of my room all day long, not giving me even ten minutes to myself. The way they came in and out as if on cue reeked of Reyna’s superb organizational skills. She had probably organized the entire visitation process so that I wouldn’t be left alone for any extended period of time and so that I felt like people cared about me. It was sweet of her to try, but the simple fact that she had to schedule my friends to come see me made me feel worse. Would they have come without Reyna’s prodding?

Sometime after lunch, several players from the football team traipsed in. They stood around my bed and awkwardly made comments about the flowers and cards that decorated my room. When they had run out of things to say, they each showed different signs of discomfort. 

Andrew took a comb out of his back pocket and combed the side of his smooth black hair like he’d just stepped out of a fifties movie. All the girls thought he looked like a cross between Elvis and James Dean so he played up to the image by only wearing plain white T-shirts and blue jeans every day.

 Ben jammed his hands in his pocket probably feeling around to make sure his next joint was easily accessible. Carson crossed his arms and stared out of the window. Harry, rocking on his heels opened his mouth to say something then decided against it. Tyrone took off his varsity jacket then put it back on again three seconds later. And A.J. snapped his fingers while humming the new T.I. tune. The only reason I was familiar with the rap song was because he’d begun the unsightly ritual of dancing around the locker room after showers and rubbing his big belly in front of everyone singing, “You can have whatever you like.”

This was not normal behavior for these guys. Normally, they would have been joking loudly about their escapades of the weekend, bragging about how valuable they were to the team, or just being crude in some way, shape or form. The simple fact that Ben had gone ten minutes without asking about weed was bizarre in and of itself. I wondered if Reyna had given them strict instructions on what not to talk about. She probably told them not to bring up the championship game or any sports at all for that matter. I guess I’d have to do that myself.

“Anyone want to tell me about the game? What happened? How did you guys win?” I said after what felt like an extra long awkward silence.

The guys eyed each other nervously. Yep, Reyna had definitely told them not to talk about it.

“Uh, it was no big deal,” Andrew volunteered, speaking for the group.

“Come on guys. I want to know.”

Still no response.

“Please,” I added.

Andrew sighed and said, “What do you remember last?”

I hadn’t really thought about it that much, but the last thing I remembered was being up 14-0. I remembered the hike and I remembered searching for an opening to run it in. There wasn’t one so I looked for someone, anyone to throw the ball to. I could usually count on Lawrence’s speed to get him open and I would’ve normally thrown to him instantly, but Lawrence hadn’t been playing.  Then I’d looked to my left and saw number 37 barreling down on me. Normally A.J. would have blocked him, giving me a little more time in the pocket, but A.J. hadn’t played either. Then I remembered this pain in my chest. It’d felt like all the oxygen in my body had been sucked out. Everything went black.

I didn’t want to tell the guys all of that. It would’ve made them even more uncomfortable to think that they could have prevented the hit by getting open or providing me more protection. I didn’t want them to think it was their fault. It wasn’t their fault. It was mine. I should have been a better quarterback, a better team leader.

“I fumbled,” I said simply in answer to their question.

A.J. glared at Carson. I knew what he was thinking. Carson had filled in for A.J.’s position and if he had done a better job, I wouldn’t have gotten tackled. Carson looked at the floor guiltily and avoided eye contact with me.

“Hey, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. No one could have prevented it. Just tell me what happened after.”

Ben cleared his throat and said, “Um, well, after you, um … left the game, we were all pretty much a mess. I mean we don’t even have a second string quarterback. We never thought we’d need one. Not with you on the team. You’re … I mean … you were … I mean … you are —”

“What Ben’s trying to say,” Andrew chimed in, “is that no one could compare to you as quarterback. So we had to do the best we could. Freddie jumped in, threw a few horrible incomplete passes and that got us out of the first quarter.”

The guys laughed, and then Harry said, “The second quarter wasn’t much better. I actually stepped in as quarterback. We gained some yards but didn’t earn a touchdown. By halftime we were down 14-24.”

“So what happened? How did you end up winning?”

A.J. and Tyrone eyed each other. “I think we have Derek to thank for that actually,” A.J. said, rubbing his beard. Yes, he was in high school and had a beard. That added to the fact that he was 6 foot 3 inches and easily 280 pounds, made him look 30 as opposed to 17. The guys never had trouble scoring alcohol when A.J. was around. “He found me, Tyrone, and Lawrence and explained who and what was really behind the banner. He apologized and begged us to suit up and play.”

“We all played both sides for the entire second half,” Tyrone said. “Laughlin didn’t gain another yard on us. It was like the Music City Miracle. The fans, the players, even the cheerleaders were on the edge of their seat. No one knew what was going to happen. We rushed on every play. Their quarterback is probably still picking grass out of his teeth.”

The guys chuckled. They were getting animated over the memories of the exciting game. It was probably the most exhilarating game of the season, possibly of my high school career and I wasn’t there to enjoy it.

“Derek filled in as quarterback,” Andrew added. “He ran it up the middle for one touchdown then in the fourth quarter he sent a Hail Mary into the end zone for the winning touchdown pass.”

“Who caught it?” I asked.

Everyone grew quiet then looked at Carson. “I did,” he said still staring at the floor.

This was a big deal. Carson wasn’t a receiver. He’d never caught a touchdown pass in the four years I’d played with him. That and the fact that Derek trusted him enough to pass it to him in the first place were nothing short of miracles. There had to be some serious extenuating circumstances for this play to have occurred.

“No one else was getting open. Laughlin anticipated our every move. I’m the only one they never would have expected to make the play,” Carson explained. “Plus, I felt I owed it to you. After those things I said … ” Carson brushed his blond hair away and held his forehead as if he were getting a headache. “I was wrong, man. Dead wrong. After what she did on that field to save you … Reyna is amazing” He shook his head as if in disbelief that he didn’t realize it before. “And I’m … I’m happy for you two.”

The conversation was stilted again. The guys were itching to leave and staring at the clock as if their time was coming to an end.

“How is basketball practice going?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. Andrew, Harry, and Tyrone were also on the basketball team with me. Not A.J. he was just too big.

“Uh, Coach Henry cancelled the first few practices,” Harry said.

“Cancelled? Why?” I asked.

“In memory of you,” he added.

“In memory of me? In memory of me? Like I’m dead or something?” I leaned up on my elbows and confronted each of them with a daring glare. Did they all think I was as good as dead? They knew the truth. They knew I would never play again. Or, at best, I was done for the season. I might as well be dead.

“No, he didn’t mean in memory of you. He meant in honor of you.” Andrew gave Harry a dirty look while trying to cover up his blunder. But it didn’t make things any better.

The rest of the visit grew progressively worse. The subject of sports was dropped and they started talking about meaningless crap that I can’t even remember. I grew silent and stared at the wall as I thought about how much I would miss people chanting my name. I would probably never again feel the thrill of making that last minute buzzer beating winning basket. Who would be able to perform my patented quick step double fake three point shot? Once, in tenth grade, I made sixteen three pointers in one game. It’s still a state high school record. After that I pretty much got double or triple teamed for each game and the most I ever made after that was eleven.

After I was silent for five or six minutes straight, the guys said their goodbyes, leaving me alone and wishing I were dead.

 Tuesday Nov. 18

Much to Reyna’s delight, Sam was still out of town when it was time for Scott to be released from the hospital. Reyna and Stu were able to bring him home without the drama of another all out fight with Sam.

He was recovering more quickly than expected and his doctors thought he might do even better at home.

They hadn’t really made any permanent decisions about where they would live as a couple. Reyna suggested they move in with her father but that didn’t help Scott’s temperament. He already felt like less of a man. Moving in with her father would have augmented that feeling. Scott suggested that he sell his Mustang, so they could get an apartment but Reyna wouldn’t allow it. He loved that car. And though Scott probably wouldn’t admit it, that car was the only tangible proof he had that his mother cared about him.

So they decided to go to Scott’s house temporarily until Sam returned. Scott would be the most comfortable there anyway.

Reyna could tell Scott was still depressed. He didn’t want the fanfare of a welcoming home party upon his release from the hospital, although dozens of people from school had asked her what she was planning. According to him, he just wanted to be left alone. She felt him slipping further and further away from her. She had to do something to reaffirm her love for him. Something to help him realize that life was worth living even without sports or a nurturing parent.

Stu gave them some privacy and went out for the evening with his friends so Scott and Reyna could enjoy a romantic dinner alone.

“Why are you still with me?” he asked as they ate the traditional Puerto Rican meal of
asopão
and
arroz
con
habichuelas
that Reyna had prepared.

Reyna looked up from her meal utterly devastated by the question. Her heart ached that he would even ask such a thing. Her throat tightened and tears threatened to emerge. She didn’t want to cry in front of him again. It would make him feel even worse to know that he was hurting her.

“You can have any guy you want,” he continued. “You’re brilliant. You’re beautiful. You have a bright future ahead of you. You don’t need to be stuck taking care of me for the rest of your life.”

Reyna pushed away from the table, stood and walked over to him. After sitting on his lap, she cradled his head on her shoulder.

“I married you, Scottie. For better or worse, we’ll always have each other. I know you think you’re less of a person, because you think you’ll never be a famous athlete, but that’s never what I’ve loved about you. I don’t care that you’re sick. I don’t care if you never pick up a ball again. I just want to be with you. Forever.” She kissed his forehead and ran her fingers through his shaggy hair.

“I just don’t want you hating me ten years down the road because you missed out on college or you missed out on having a life because of me.”

“Scottie, you are my life,” she said, staring into his eyes. Then she kissed him with conviction trying to send home the message that she was there to stay and not going anywhere.