《More Than A Moment》


 Chapter 1. Images

    Chapter 1. Images


    Cold sweat blurred his vision and stung his eyes. His legs throbbed. His breaths came in hard uneven gasps. The hot afternoon wind slammed against his helmet. Behind him, he felt a presence. He turned nothing was there but the ball falling through space. He extended his hands and missed the ball. It bounced out of bounds. Then in the heat he saw an odd shadow. At least he thought he did. He stood there immobile and frightened, staring at nothing.


    Coach Wilson shouted, ¡°Aaron this is football not freeze tag. Get back in line so we can run that play again.¡±


    Angrily Joe Aaron jabbed his fingers through the grill of his helmet and rubbed his eyes. Just sweat, that was all. He tossed the ball to Coach Wilson before he lined up. The play was called, the ball smacked into quarterback, Stan Pierce¡¯s hands and Joe ran, hard and fast down the middle. Darryl, his best friend, couldn¡¯t catch him, no one could. They grabbed and fell. His eyes scanned for the ball. Up, up in a beautiful arc, down, down, he increased his speed, held out his hands. Sting. The ball landed with a hard thwack. He tucked it safely in his arms as he ran toward the goal. White lines passed beneath him. The shadow of the goal posts slashed across him. Touch down!


    The whistle blew. Coach Wilson shouted, ¡°Great job! Offense do that Friday night. Defense don¡¯t do that. Everybody, hit the showers.¡±


    Joe trotted toward the field house. Behind him his teammates kidded and pushed each other. Inside the locker room, Joe peeled off his jersey, pads and pants. He grabbed a towel and went to the showers. Communal showers had never been his thing. Even after all his years in athletics he still dreaded being naked in public. He stepped in front of a showerhead and turned it on. Cold water struck his body. He flinched. Slowly the water grew warmer.


    As Joe soaped up his chest, Darryl came into the showers. He took the one next to Joe and shouted, ¡°I think we need some naked women in here!"


    Hoots and shouts sounded all around.


    To Joe, Darryl loudly whispered, "I still think Pearlman might be a girl. Bet that''s why he never showers with us." Pearlman Jenkins was their geek manager. He had yet to sprout a single whisker on his face. Darryl took a step out of the shower and said, "Maybe we should find out."


    Pearlman was mopping up water near the showers. He got teased a lot, but he didn''t let it get to him. He loved football and since he was too scrawny to play, he did whatever he could to just be part of the team. Joe said, "Darryl, leave him alone."


    ¡°Why? He likes it when I talk to him. He thinks we''re friends."


    "Just leave him alone."


    Pissed, Darryl stepped back into the shower. "What, you don''t want me to be mean to your special friend?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± Joe rinsed off, grabbed his towel and went to his locker. After he dried off, he put his clothes on. He had left a wet trail from the showers that Pearlman would have to mop up. Feeling guilty he sopped up the trail with his towel.


    Darryl shook his head at him when he saw him. Pearlman noticed too and nodded his thanks. Inside Joe cursed himself for his niceness. As he tossed his towel into the laundry, Coach Wilson came out of his office. A big smile creased his face when he saw Joe. Reluctantly Joe smiled back. Coach said, ¡°I got something I want you to see.¡±


    ¡°Yes sir?¡±


    ¡°Yep, I found it in the vault. Amazing stuff.¡± He had an odd light in his eyes. ¡°I think you will really get a kick out of it.¡± He slapped Joe on the back, then hollered, ¡°Get your asses out of the shower boys!¡¯¡¯ To Joe, he said, ¡°Go get you a front row seat. I don¡¯t want you to miss a second.¡± Joe nodded and went to the viewing room. Rows of benches filled the room. A big TV was mounted to the wall. Were they going to have to watch some inspirational football shit movie clip again? God he hoped not. He sat down on the front bench.


    Slowly the rest of the team filed in. Darryl plunked down beside him. Coach Wilson rocked back and forth on his heels as the room settled down. ¡°Flip the lights, Pearlman.¡± Pearlman got up and walked to the switch. He did walk like a girl.


    Darryl whispered, ¡°Hope this movie has naked women in it.¡±


    Joe asked, ¡°Is that all you ever think about?¡±


    Darryl grinned, ¡°What else is there?¡±


    The movie began, only it was NOT a movie it was game footage and it was old. How old? A feeling of panic ripped through Joe. Please, not that old. On the screen, Joe saw him move out of the line. Number 23. He knew his name but he had never said it out loud.


    Across an unfamiliar field Reginald Johnson ran. He was graceful, beautiful, perfect. For an instant Joe forgot he was watching Reginald, he felt like he was watching himself. He was flying, no one could touch him. Play after play was executed. Touch down! Joe watched in disbelief as Reginald did a salute to the crowd. Joe did that too. The other players began to whisper behind him. When Reginald ran off the field, he jerked his helmet off. Joe nearly gasped, but stopped himself. Darryl cocked his head sideways and whispered, ¡°Damn.¡± The camera panned back to the field.


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    Joe couldn¡¯t watch this anymore. His eyes shot from the screen to Coach Wilson. Coach smiled and nodded. No. This was his worst nightmare come true. Then, he felt Darryl¡¯s eyes on him but he did not turn. Had Darryl figured it out too? Joe was too scared to look. Sweat seeped out of his every pore. Suddenly he felt cold and sick.


    Coach Wilson cut the TV off. ¡°Pearlman, get the lights.¡± The room went from dark to light. He said, ¡°I wanted you to see this, so you would know what you are capable of.¡± Though he said this to the whole team, Joe knew the words were directed at him.


    Perlman asked, ¡°Who was that number 23? He sure could fly?¡±


    Stupid Pearlman! He asked too many questions, geeks always did.  When Coach Wilson said, ¡°That was Reginald Johnson,¡± Joe felt his body go numb.


    Stupid Pearlman asked, ¡°What college did he play for? I never heard of him.¡± Joe wanted to punch Pearlman. Why had he stopped Darryl from teasing the sissy smart ass? He wouldn''t protect him again. Inside his chest, Joe''s heart picked up speed. He had to get out of here and fast.


    Coach Wilson hesitated, before he said, ¡°He was recruited by OU and Texas A & M. He went to Texas A & M.¡±


    Joe met Coach Wilson''s eyes. In his head he begged, Please stop this.


    Before Pearlman could ask another question, Coach said, ¡°Dismissed.¡±


    Careful not to look at anyone, Joe stood, left the field house and went straight to Darryl¡¯s beat up purple Ford Fiesta. The door wasn¡¯t locked because it was busted. He climbed inside.


    When Darryl got into the car, he didn¡¯t say anything, but Joe could feel his thoughts. He had questions, questions Joe prayed he would not ask.


    Darryl stuck the key in the ignition. "Joe, bow you head."


    Joe protested, "I don''t think lying to Jesus is a good idea."


    "IT don''t matter what you think, its what Purple Bomb believes!" He smacked the back of Joe''s head forcing him to bow. With deep sincerity Darryl began to pray, ¡°Jesus my Lord and Savior, do me this little favor, give life to Purple Bomb and I will be your faithful one. Amen.¡± He turned the key. The car shook, then rumbled, then burst into rattles. Darryl punched the gas and they jerked forward. The car wobbled a little as they made the turn and roared when they hit the street.


    Joe reached for the radio knob and punched it. Loud Spanish music filled the car.


    ¡°What the hell?¡±


    Darryl grinned. ¡°Purple Bomb likes Spanish music.¡±


    Joe rolled his eyes. He switched it to a rock station. The reception was terrible. He turned it up even louder. It didn¡¯t help. Darryl switched it back to the Spanish station. It came in so clearly. The stupid car was possessed.


    When they reached Joe¡¯s apartment, Darryl cut the radio. He looked directly at him and asked, ¡°That number 23, was he your old man?¡±


    Joe didn¡¯t answer. He slammed the car door and ran to his ground floor apartment. His hand shook as he rammed his key into the door. Behind him he heard the Purple Bomb roar away. He pushed open the door. It swung back and banged against the wall. It left a mark on the wall. Mama wouldn¡¯t like that. In his room he hurled his back pack onto the bed. It bounced off and landed hard on the floor. Why had coach shown that? Why? Did he think it would help? It didn¡¯t help.


    In his mind, Joe could still see Reginald run. Worst of all was that moment he took off his helmet. Joe went to his mother¡¯s room. She was at work and he wasn¡¯t supposed to be in there. He opened her closet. Totally forbidden territory. On the top shelf was a stack of old yearbooks. He pulled the second from the top down. His fingers trembled as he opened the book. His fingertips left sweat marks on the pages as he turned them. On page 201 was a picture of Reginald in his uniform. He stood so tall, his smile big, his helmet under his arm. For several long minutes Joe studied Reginald¡¯s face. He had never thought he looked like him, until now. It was so obvious. He had grown into his father¡¯s face. How and when had that happened?


    With book in hand, Joe looked at himself in his mother¡¯s full length mirror. He stood exactly the way Reginald did in the picture. The resemblance was so eerie. Like a photo copy. Joe slammed the book closed.

 Chapter 2. Rally PEP

    Beyond the gym¡¯s double doors the marching band was playing, ¡°We Will Rock You¡± badly. The drums vibrated off the walls. The team was lined up just outside the doors. So far today, no one had said anything about Reginald. No one had treated Joe differently. He hoped Coach and Darryl both kept their mouths shut.


    The music blared louder. Behind Joe, Darryl started to shimmy. His 6''4" frame jiggled all over. Joe hissed, "Be still."


    Sliding to the left, Darryl said, ¡°I can''t. When I hear the rhythm of the drums, the blood of my Jamaican ancestors undulates in my veins and I can not stop the jubilation of  their spirits within me.¡±


    ¡°You aren''t Jamaican."


    "Could be Mon."


    Joe rolled his eyes.


    The doors to the gym were opened. Over the loud speakers Principal Watkins shouted, ¡°Welcome this year''s FIGHTING TIGERS!¡± The team ran through the double doors.


    From the bleachers, a tall girl shouted, ¡°The fighting Tigers are more than just football.¡± She was on the volleyball team. Girl¡¯s teams never got Pep Rallies.


    Uneasily Joe went to center court and stood with the team lined up, facing the crowd. Some of the people were on their feet, most were just there so they wouldn''t have to go to class.


    Coach Wilson introduced the players alphabetically, so of course Joe was first. When he called out  ¡°Josiah Aaron,¡± Joe stepped forward. Something amazing happened. Everyone stood up and clapped for him. Everyone. They knew who he was.  Even the volleyball girl was on her feet cheering. Why? Was it because he was a senior, was it because they knew it was his year? Some said, his legs could take them to the State Championship.


    Beside him Darryl shouted, ¡°Wave, man, wave.¡±


    Joe obeyed and the crowd clapped louder. Their energy surged through him.  Mama would want to hear about this. He felt like a rock star. Flashes went off. He was going to be in the newspaper. Coach called out Darryl¡¯s name, "Darryl Bowen" and Joe stepped back in line. When Darryl stepped forward, people sat down. They barely clapped. Darryl stepped back. All the jiggle had gone out of him. He muttered, ¡°Pep rallies SUCK.¡±


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    Joe used to think so, but the warmth of the crowd¡¯s applause still tingled inside of him. In his mind he saw a giant college stadium filled with people cheering for him and after that a pro stadium. That would be the best. And it all started NOW!


    After the last player¡¯s name was called, the team filed off the court and sat in a row of folding chairs on the sideline.


    Next came the cheerleaders. Darryl¡¯s little sister Danita was one of them. She had really filled out over the summer.  This time last year she had been a broom handle with big hair. Now, she had curves. Nice, full curves.


    Darryl jabbed Joe hard in the ribs. ¡°Don¡¯t you be looking at my sister like that.¡±


    Joe turned his attention to his favorite cheerleader, Christy Thorton. Her long blonde hair fluttered like a wild thing as she ran to center court. Joe¡¯s fingers itched to touch that hair, to get all tangled up in it.


    Music blasted from above.  The cheerleaders gyrated in a pagan dance. They bounced all over. It was a beautiful thing. Beside him, Darryl¡¯s whole body kept time to the music. As Christy Thorton was being lifted into the air, she smiled at Joe. There was no mistaking it,  that smile was for him. Darryl jabbed him in the ribs, he had noticed it too.


    The music stopped. The girls ran back to the opposite side of the gym. When Christy sat down on the floor, she waved at Joe. He raised his fingers to her. She smiled.


    Darryl leaned over and said, ¡°That girl wants you. I hear she gives it away.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡±


    ¡°She could make a man out of you.¡±


    Could she?  Would she?


    Darryl smirked at him. ¡°Of course your mama wouldn¡¯t like it, now would she? And if Mama don''t like it, Joe don''t do it.¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± Joe frowned at him.


    Darryl leaned back and laughed.

 Chapter 3. Scoring

    The stench of burned beans filled the apartment. Joe felt sick. He never should have eaten that canned chili before a game, but he was too lazy to fix anything else and now he was paying. His stomach gurgled. Nerves, just nerves and chili, he would be fine, he had to be fine. Tonight was the first game of his journey toward a State Championship. The words beneath Reginald¡¯s picture flashed through his mind. All District, All Region, All State. He wanted those same words beneath his picture in the yearbook. He wanted all the chances Reginald had blown.


    A horn blasted outside. Purple Bomb had arrived. Joe grabbed his gear and locked the front door.


    Purple Bomb was rocking to Salsa music when he climbed into the car. ¡°Do we have to listen to that shit?¡±


    ¡°Si.¡± Darryl pulled away from the curb and cranked up the music. Purple Bomb shimmied to the rhythm. The motion did not help. The closer they got to the stadium, the worse Joe felt.


    Darryl asked, ¡°You okay?¡±


    ¡°I had chili for supper.¡±


    ¡°That was stupid.¡±


    ¡°Could we stop by the nursing home. Maybe Mama¡¯s got something that will make me feel better.¡±


    ¡°I guess, but don¡¯t expect me to go in there with you.¡± Darryl turned the wheel and they headed toward the bay. Around the next corner was a big sign that said, ¡°Welcome to Shady Acres by the Bay.¡± It was a tan brick building that had seen better days. There were only a few cars in the parking lot. Darryl pulled into a space near the front door. As Joe climbed out he said, ¡°Don¡¯t be long. I don¡¯t want Coach blaming me cause his precious Joe is late.¡±


    ¡°I''ll just be a second.¡± Joe slammed the door and braced himself to enter the nursing home. He hated the place and he had never understood why Mama liked working there, but she did and she had for the past 15 years. The instant he opened the glass door, the smell hit him. The awful smell of antiseptic and old people. Old people smelled bad, they all smelled bad. His stomach made a peculiar sound. He shouldn¡¯t have come here. Just as he turned to leave, a familiar voice called out, ¡°Hey Joe.¡±


    For an instant he hesitated, he could pretend not to hear.


    ¡°Joe?¡±


    He turned. It was Morrow Anderson. She pushed her glasses up and smiled. He said, ¡°Uh, hi.¡±


    ¡°If you¡¯re looking for you mom, she¡¯s with my grandpa. Follow me.¡±


    Joe did not want to follow, he wanted to get the hell out of there, but he couldn¡¯t. Mama would wonder why he stopped by without saying hello. Then she would worry about him the rest of the evening. Reluctantly, Joe followed Morrow down the hall and into a room. The room stunk worse than the hall.


    Mr. Anderson sat propped up on pillows. Once he had been a big man, now he was all bones and blue skin. In a chair beside him, Mama sat in her bright orange scrubs slowly feeding Mr. Anderson something green and squishy.


    Mama turned and smiled at Joe. For an instant he forgot about his stomach and his nose. He always felt better when Mama smiled.


    Mr. Anderson coughed and spit food all over his bib. Apologetically, the old man smiled and said, ¡°Sorry you had to see that son.¡±


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s okay.¡± Mama began to mop the goo off Mr. Anderson. ¡°He¡¯s seen worse. Haven¡¯t you Joe?¡±


    Though he had not, Joe nodded.


    Mama asked, ¡°You need something, Honey?¡±


    ¡°Got any anti-acids?¡±


    ¡°In my purse, I will get it for you when I¡¯m finished.¡±


    ¡°Uh, Darryl is waiting for me. I¡¯ll just get something from Coach Wilson.¡±


    Mama stopped cleaning up Mr. Anderson. She leveled him with her gaze. ¡°You make sure it is just anti-acids. I don¡¯t want them giving you anything else.¡±


    ¡°Mama, the coaches don¡¯t hand out drugs.¡±


    ¡°They used to, when Reg¡ª¡° she cut herself off. She had almost said Reginald¡¯s name. She never said Reginald¡¯s name. Abruptly she changed the subject. ¡°Let me give you a kiss for luck.¡±


    Morrow said, ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t believe in luck, Miss Aaron.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t, I just want to kiss my son.¡±


    Embarrassed Joe and allowed her to kiss his cheek. At that moment Mr. Anderson cut one. It smelled like a dead cat two days past ripe.


    Mr. Anderson chuckled, ¡°Sorry folks. It is amazing what old age does to your bowels. Used to have control, now-¡± he paused, and let another one rip. ¡°Now, I¡¯m thinking about taking up butt kazoo.¡±


    ¡°Grandpa!¡± Morrow turned red. She grabbed hold of Joe¡¯s arm and pulled him out of the room. Outside she wrinkled her nose and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry. Grandpa thinks farting is funny, he always has.¡±


    ¡°Uh, I gotta get to the game.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll walk you out.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± If she wanted to walk him out, she was going to have to walk really fast. Joe turned on his heel and headed down the hall. What he really wanted to do was run, run fast out of this death trap. Crazy old people lined the halls in their old people diapers. The doors were in sight. Had he lost Morrow? He didn¡¯t know. He turned, she was there, striding beside him. He pushed through the doors. Air, clean and untainted filled his nostrils.


    The doors swung closed. Morrow touched his arm. He looked down into her eyes, for the first time he noticed they were sky blue. ¡°Joe,¡± she said softly, ¡°You are going to do fine tonight. Just trust yourself. My mom says nerves are good, they keep us sharp.¡±


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    ¡°Thanks.¡±


    She let go of his arm.


    Darryl pointed at his wrist, which had no watch on it and shouted, ¡°Time to get the heck out of Dodge.¡±


    To Darryl, Joe said, ¡°I¡¯m coming.¡± Then he asked Morrow, ¡°You going to the game?¡±


    ¡°I might.¡±


    Joe climbed inside Purple Bomb.


    Through the window Darryl yelled, ¡°Pray for my car!¡± Morrow bowed her head. Darryl twisted the key. The dumb thing roared to life, Salsa music and all. Above the noise Darryl shouted, ¡°Morrow, you got the power!¡±


    *


    The sky was big blue and changing as the sun neared the horizon. The lights on the scoreboard were set at all zeros. As the game began, Joe was vaguely aware of the heat, the band music and the crowd. He kept his eyes off the cheerleaders. He must stay focused. The grass was slick and the line was fidgety. Across the narrow strip of turf, the white and red jerseys of Baytown Lee supported angry helmeted faces. After Baytown¡¯s failed field goal attempt, the Tigers had the ball. Stan called the play. It was the one they practiced yesterday. He heard the ball hit Stan¡¯s palms and he took off running his appointed path. Stan spiraled the pass to him. Joe extended his hands. Smack. He had it. His legs stretched out, his felt his speed increase. Faster, so fast, flying. Pure flight. One white line, then two passed beneath him. Someone was near, they were coming closer. He didn¡¯t look back. He would execute this play the way he had in practice. Another line crossed, then another. He could hear the crowd. The noise throbbed through his body. The goal posts were fast approaching. The roar of the crowd increased. Joe wished he could run forever. He crossed over the final line. TOUCHDOWN! People were on their feet screaming and cheering for him. Him. He saluted to the crowd, and then his mind spewed out the image of Reginald doing the same thing. A chill went through him.


    A voice broke into his thoughts. ¡°Son, I need the ball.¡±


    Embarrassed Joe tossed the ball to the referee and lined up for the field goal. A soccer player named Sam, booted it in. The number 7 appeared on the scoreboard. Joe ran off the field, Darryl was still on the bench. Big as he was he didn¡¯t play much. He would rather watch the drill team or the cheerleaders than get all sweaty. Joe sat down beside him. Darryl pointed at Christy. ¡°She has not taken her eyes off of you, look.¡±


    She waved.


    ¡°I bet if you go over there she¡¯ll talk dirty to you. I hear she can talk rrreal dirrrty.¡± Darryl pushed him and said, ¡°Go on, get up. She¡¯s waiting for you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d get in trouble.¡±


    Darryl shook his head. ¡°For somebody who never, NEVER, gets in trouble you sure do worry about it a lot.¡±


    ¡°I got to stay focused.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah, the scouts might be watching. Wouldn¡¯t want to blow your big future.¡± Darryl got up and went to the sidelines.


    Joe¡¯s eyes strayed to Christy. She was watching him. It made him feel good and uneasy all at once.


    The game moved at an easy pace. By fourth quarter the Tigers were ahead 21 points. Darryl was finally on the field for the last seconds of the game. Baytown snapped the ball. Slowly it arced into the sky. Joe saw Darryl take off running. He had never seen him run like that before. His eyes were locked on the ball. Damn, was he going to try to intercept the thing? Darryl stretched out his arms then his whole body. He lunged forward. The ball grazed the end of his finger tips. Darryl¡¯s big body fell with a hard thud. His helmet rammed into the grass. The clock ran out. Angrily, Darryl stood and swung his head around. Bits of turf flew from his grill. Joe heard Coach Wilson say, ¡°Never seen him run like that.¡± When Darryl came to the sidelines Coach patted his shoulder pad and said something. The anger left Darryl¡¯s face and he grinned.


    He ran to Joe and said, ¡°Did you see me. I flew.¡±


    Joe laughed, ¡°Yeah, straight into the ground.¡±


    Dark anger returned to Darryl¡¯s eyes. They went to shake the other teams hands, Joe hated this final act of the game. Once he had palmed what seemed like 100 Baytown players, he headed for the field house. Christy Thorton stopped him at the goal post.


    ¡°I am having some people over why don¡¯t you stop by?¡± The wind caught her hair and sent it flying all around her face. It looked so soft. Joe wanted to reach out and touch it.


    She frowned and asked, ¡°You coming?¡±


    From behind Darryl chucked him upside the head. He said, ¡°Only if he can bring a friend.¡±


    Christy wrinkled her perfect nose. ¡°Uh, sure, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Okay, he¡¯s coming. Now, where do you live?¡±


    ¡°6300 Bay Road.¡± Christy reached up and touched Joe¡¯s cheek. A strange sensation tore through him. ¡°See YOU in a bit.¡±


    Joe watched her walk away. She had a nice swing to her step. Darryl was watching too. He muttered, ¡°Rich Bitch.¡±


    ¡°Shh, she will hear you.¡±


    ¡°Hey its true. But man don¡¯t you think she has a nice ass?¡°


    Joe did, but he wasn''t going to say it out loud. He grinned to himself. This might be a better night than he ever imagined.

 Chapter 4. Almost There

    The word ¡°hurry¡± pounded around inside Joe¡¯s brain and pumped through his veins. Soon, soon, what?! He didn''t know but he felt sure he was finally going to touch Christy''s bright, soft hair. He rushed through his shower and barely dried himself off before he pulled on his clothes. They kind of stuck. He pulled his shirt away from his damp torso. Dummy. Now he looked like he had been sweating. He went to the hand dryer and ripped off his T-shirt. After he punched the button he put the shirt on the nozzle. The hot air had little effect.


    Darryl came up to him and said, ¡°Hurry up, Cinderella or you are gonna miss the ball.¡±


    Joe pulled his shirt back on and they headed into the parking lot. Once inside Purple Bomb, Darryl muttered the required word or prayer. He turned the key, but  the car didn¡¯t so much as cough. With more sincerity, he tried again, nothing.


    This could not be happening! If they had to call Darryl¡¯s dad to tow the stupid car, then there would be no Christy Thorton, and no possibilities! Possibilities of what, Joe was not sure, but he knew they were they and he was not going to miss them because of this STUPID heap of junk.


    A third time Darryl prayed. He turned the key again. Not a sound. In frustration Joe struck the dash with both fists.


    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t you be abusing my car. Be gentle. Purple Bomb does not respond to violence.¡± Darryl closed his eyes and folded his hands, softly he whispered, ¡°Please.¡±


    Nothing.


    Darryl shook his head and looked at Joe. He said,  ¡°Maybe Jesus knows you intend to fornicate, and that¡¯s why he¡¯s not blessing Purple Bomb with life.¡±


    Angrily Joe said, ¡°Stop talking about your damn car like it¡¯s a person Jesus has to resurrect seven times a day.¡± In his head, the word fornicate echoed. Was he going to miss that because of this idiotic piece of junk? No! He got out and opened the hood. Darryl''s dad always messed with wires when the car wouldn''t start. In the dim light Joe surveyed the filthy motor. Desperate and unsure of what to do, he made sure each wire was firmly connected to what ever it came out of. When he finished, he said,  ¡°Try again.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Darryl turned the key. The motor made a funny noise like it wasn¡¯t going to turn over. Joe kicked the car. The engine coughed, then rattled. Darryl punched the gas, it roared. He hollered, ¡°Get in before she changes her mind.¡±


    Gently Joe closed the hood, he didn¡¯t want to do anything to upset the engine, lest it cut off. He slid into the car and cautiously closed the door.


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    Darryl put it in drive and they were thrust backwards. ¡°You go girl!¡± Purple Bomb spun out and swerved into the night.


    As they drove down the road the houses changed from three bedroom ranches, to larger homes. When they hit Bay Road Joe¡¯s elation began to turn to apprehension. He was completely out of his element. These houses were so big, like mammoths hunched by the bay. Flashes of reflected moonlight glinted around them. How did a person act in a place like that? Only really rich people lived in these houses. He had known Christy had money, but he didn''t know she was this rich. What was it like to be rich? It was his plan to find out. In his imagination the future Pro Josiah Aaron would live in a mansion by the bay. Next door Mama would have her own mansion. At the thought of Mama, Joe shut off his brain. It would do him no good to think about Mama. She would not like where he was going.


    Darryl turned into the driveway of huge Victorian house. It glowed white in the moonlight. Reverently Darryl whispered, ¡°Damn.¡± He stopped Purple Bomb. The car jerked, and rattled. It seemed intent to keep going. Darryl looked around at the other cars, BMW¡¯s, SUV¡¯s and a couple sports cars. He cooed, ¡°Don¡¯t worry Purple Bomb, Daddy loves you just the way you are.¡±


    The car died. Darryl yanked out the key and said, ¡°Hope she starts when it is time to go.¡±


    It was way too soon to think about leaving. Joe climbed out of the car. Salty air filled his nostrils. He took in a deep breath. This was the air he wanted his mother to breath not that awful nursing home air. Not Mama again. He turned his attention to the sound of the surf upon the shore. Beyond the houses was a beach. Poor people weren''t allowed on that beach.


    The stained glass front door opened. Christy stepped into the night. Loud music spewed from the house. Joe watched Christy walk toward him. His heart rate sputtered. He couldn¡¯t breath, he couldn¡¯t move. Darryl came around the car and stood behind him.


    Christy stopped just inches away from Joe. She looked at Darryl and said, ¡°Jade Waters was talking about you.¡±


    Cautiously, Darryl asked, ¡°Really?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I told her you were coming. She¡¯s in the game room. Just follow the main hall till it ends.¡±


    ¡°Uh, yeah, okay.¡± Darryl moved passed Joe and went into the house.


    Christy moved even closer. So close he could smell her  fancy perfume, and feel her breath on his throat. Without a word, she slipped her hand into his. It was warm and soft. He glanced down at their hands, black and white fingers entwined.  She asked, ¡°Want to go for a walk?¡±

 Chapter 5. Night Visions

    A walk, alone with this girl? Was this even real? Surely he was dreaming. Not sure of his voice, Joe nodded. Christy tugged on his hand and propelled him forward. She led him around the house and to the beach. The moon was full and bright. It cast a wavering path across the water. When they reached the water¡¯s edge, Christy let go of his hand and moved closer. She slipped her arms around his waist.


    Overwhelming sensations rocked Joe¡¯s mind and body. He put his arms around her. She pressed every curve of her body against his. She was soft in all the right places. Her left hand reached for his chin, then she brought his mouth down to hers.


    The words, gum! Breath mint! Screamed through his mind. He should have thought of that, why hadn¡¯t he thought of that? He probably tasted worse than Mr. Anderson¡¯s farts smelled. If he did, Christy didn¡¯t notice, or didn¡¯t mind. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth. Her kiss was deep and hard. She seemed intent on eating him. He wrapped his fingers in her hair. It was so fine, like silk or spider webs. She took a single aching breath, then wrapped her tongue around his. God, no one had ever made him feel like this before. She was incredible. He lost all sense of time, of everything, but her. She pulled her lips away from his and said, ¡°Let¡¯s go inside.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    She didn¡¯t answer. She took his hand and tugged on it. Reluctantly Joe followed her across the sand and into the house. The instant they were inside, she let go of his hand. She moved away from him as if he were a stranger. He felt suddenly cold. With out a word, she walked ahead of him. Unsure of what he was supposed to do, Joe followed. As he followed, he was vaguely aware of hard wood floors and expensive rugs. When they reached the huge kitchen, Christy stopped. On the counters were every kind of chip ad dip known to human kind. Sodas were in open ice chests on the tiled floor. A woman in her forties was at the sink. She turned. She was built like Christy. Her hair was expensive blonde. Her nails and make-up perfect. The smile she flashed at Joe was not real or warm. She asked, ¡°Who is this?¡±


    ¡°This is Joe Aaron, star, uh what position do you play?¡±


    Cheerleaders were so dumb about football. Better keep it simple. ¡°I am a running back.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, he catches the ball and runs. Mom you should see him run.¡± Christy reached for Joe¡¯s hand and squeezed it.


    Mrs. Thorton¡¯s eyes narrowed. Joe could feel her disapproval.


    Christy asked him, ¡°Want something?¡±


    The only thing he wanted was to get out of the kitchen. He shook his head.


    Christy snuggled up against him.


    Mrs. Thorton cleared her throat.


    The look Christy gave her mother, was hard and angry. When she turned her eyes back to Joe, the anger was gone but there was something dark, so dark reflected in her eyes. She pulled him out of the kitchen and into the game room.


    Darryl sat on a brown leather sofa, desperately trying to put the moves on Jade Waters. The chick was not interested. Either Darryl didn¡¯t notice, or he was pretending not to. Several guys sat in front of a huge TV. Joe had only seen screens that big at Best Buy. Blood and gore splashed across the screen as two players hacked at each other with swords and axes. Joe looked away. Mama didn¡¯t like in video games. He pushed the thought of Mama out of his mind.


    In a shadowed corner near an open window was a chaise lounge. Christy slid onto it and patted the space beside her. Joe glanced at the kitchen, certain Mrs. Thorton would not like it. ¡°Come on Joe.¡±


    Against his better judgement he slipped down beside her. She was instantly on top of him. Oh, God. Her mother would kill him. Christy kissed him, and thoughts of Mrs. Thorton were instantly forgotten. She swiveled her hips over his and whispered, ¡°Want to go upstairs?¡±


    ¡°What about your mom?¡±


    ¡°She won¡¯t notice, she¡¯s too busy making sure nothing gets dirty or broken. This way.¡± Christy took his hand and climbed out the window. She led him up a spiral staircase to the balcony. The moon was higher in the sky now.


    Double glass doors opened into a large bedroom. Huge mirrors lined one wall reflecting the moonlight. Joe could see his silhouette and Christy¡¯s, he watched as they merged as one at the threshold. He closed his eyes as she kissed him. The urgency of her kisses made breathing difficult. Her hands touched parts of him, no girl had ever touched before. He felt the rise of his manhood and was unsure. Christy seemed to purr. Slowly, without a single break in kisses or caresses she maneuvered him onto the bed. The silk bedspread was cold against his skin. For one brief second he opened his eyes. He saw a picture on the bedside table. His eyes closed then sudden realization struck him. His eyes flew open. In the white moonlight he could clearly see the picture.


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    Christy noticed she had lost his attention. She pulled away from him and asked, ¡°What?¡±


    He pointed at the picture and asked, ¡°Who is that?¡±


    ¡°My dad.¡±


    Stupid. So stupid. How in the hell had this happened and why hadn¡¯t he ever put it together before?


    ¡°Joe, what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°Your boss is my dad.¡±


    ¡°What? I thought you didn¡¯t have a dad.¡±


    What an dumb ass thing to say! More slowly this time, he said, ¡°I mean, your dad owns the store where I work. He¡¯s my boss.¡±


    ¡°So? He¡¯s a lot of people¡¯s boss.¡± Her long fingers reached for his head and she pulled his mouth back onto hers. Her fingers moved from his head to his neck. His hands ran the length of her back. He could feel the hook of her bra. If only he knew how to undo it.


    For a brief second Christy¡¯s lips left his. She panted, ¡°Want to fuck?¡± She didn¡¯t wait for his answer. She tugged at his shirt. He raised himself slightly so she could pull it off of him. Her mouth came down hard and wet on his bare chest. Shivers burned through him. She ran her left hand down the length of his thigh. She looked up at him and said, ¡°No body has legs like yours.¡±


    No body? Reginald¡¯s smiling face exploded in Joe¡¯s mind. His conscience screamed, Reginald had legs like mine. Reginald had nights like tonight. Nights where babies were made and forgotten. Babies like me. Me. He felt Christy¡¯s fingers unbutton his pants. He heard the zipper as it went down. He looked up at her. Unbidden he saw his Mama¡¯s face, not her current face, but the one she had when she was a girl. The big room seemed to shrink and the weight of Christy¡¯s body suddenly became unbearable. What the hell was wrong with him? He was so close. Seconds away. Angrily he told himself, Focus. But he couldn¡¯t.


    Christy looked up at him and asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Before he could answer she said, ¡°It¡¯s okay. You are just nervous. Most people are the first time.¡± Her mouth came back down on his.


    The doorknob rattled. Joe nearly jumped through himself. Mrs. Thorton asked, ¡°Christy, what are you doing in my room with the door locked?¡±


    What? He was on Mr. Thorton¡¯s bed about to do his daughter. Oh, God. Joe jerked away from her. Christy pressed her finger to her lips then said, ¡°Nothing Mom.¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s in there with you?¡±


    ¡°Nobody.¡±


    ¡°Open this door this instant.¡± Christy slid off the bed, straightened the spread and motioned for Joe to go out the balcony door.


    The instant he shut the door, he broke into a cold sweat. He leaned over and tried to breath, but couldn¡¯t. God, what had just happened? He heard the bedroom door open. Mrs. Thorton asked, ¡°Christy, you better not be in there with that nig- um, I mean football player.¡±


    Joe remained rooted, afraid, not moving or breathing.


    Christy said, ¡°See Mom, there is no one here. You really should trust me.¡±


    Bitterly Mrs. Thorton laughed.


    Joe heard the door close. He peeked inside. They were gone. His pants were still open and his stupid shirt was on the bedroom floor. After redoing his pants, he noiselessly walked back into the room. As he picked up his shirt, Mr. Thorton¡¯s portrait glared at him. Joe wasted no time getting out of that room and down the spiral staircase.


    At the bottom he tripped over Darryl. He fell forward and then caught himself on the porch rail.


    ¡°Man watch where you are going.¡± Darryl looked up and recognized Joe. A huge smile split his face. He asked, ¡°So how was it?¡±


    ¡°Nothing happened, her mom interrupted.¡±


    ¡°Damn, I was hoping at least to hear about some action. Since I didn¡¯t get no action. Jade Waters is a milk Popsicle. She wouldn¡¯t know fun if it bit her on the ass. Which is what I was hoping to do.¡± Darryl stood.


    Joe felt dizzy and sick. All he wanted was to get home. ¡°Can we leave?¡±


    ¡°I thought you would never ask. How bout going to the JC¡¯s for some pool?¡±


    ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°Not passed your freakin¡¯ curfew, if that¡¯s what your worried about.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    They headed for the car. Purple Bomb was a welcome sight. Just sitting on the lumpy seat, calmed Joe. His breathing and heart rate became steady. Darryl prayed, Purple Bomb spewed them with mariachi music and roared to life.

 Chapter 6. Opportunity

    The alarm pulled Joe out of sleep. He stumbled to the bathroom and blinked at his reflection. Across his chest were lipstick smears and base blotches. Christy¡¯s make up was all over him, his arms, his neck, his face, even his ears. Every guy at JC¡¯s had seen it on him last night. Or had they? Most of them were pretty close to wasted. But why hadn¡¯t Darryl told him? Yeah, like Darryl would. If Mama saw this shit on him not even Jesus and a legion of angels could save him. Damn! His clothes. It must be on his clothes too.


    Joe dashed back to his room. On the floor, in a wad, were his clothes. He picked up the shirt. Light beige smears colored the neck. Lipstick ran the length of one sleeve.


    There was a knock on his door. Mama. God no. Joe shoved the shirt under his mattress.


    Mama asked, ¡°You awake son?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Want some eggs?¡±


    ¡°After my shower.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    He waited for her to leave his door before he risked going back to the bathroom. When he heard her clank a pan onto the stove, he slowly opened the door and ran to the bathroom.


    The shower knob squealed. Cold water struck his body. Dumb ass. He should have let it warm up first. The make up wasn¡¯t coming off with water and soap. Cream, didn¡¯t Mama use some kind of cream to get hers off? Where was that?


    He got out of the shower and found her face cream. He smeared it over each make up mark on him, then got back in the shower. In the now hot water, every trace of Christy melted off his body.


    When he finished his shower, Mama was waiting for him in the kitchen. She spooned scrambled eggs onto a plate for him. She said, ¡°I heard you had a good game last night.¡±


    Without making eye contact he said, ¡°Yeah.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to tell me about it?I heard you made an amazing touchdown.¡±


    The game seemed so far away, like it happened to somebody else.


    ¡°You okay son?¡±


    He knew she was looking at him and expected him to look at her. But he couldn¡¯t. He was too afraid of what she might read in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Just tired.¡±


    He could feel her eyes boring into his soul. She asked, ¡°What did you do last night?¡±


    ¡°Darryl and I hung out at JC¡¯s and played a little pool.¡±


    ¡°You know I don¡¯t like that place.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Is that the only place you went?¡±


    Why did she have to ask that? Lying never worked with Mama. She always saw straight through his lies. Always. He mumbled, ¡°Christy Thorton had some people over. We stayed there a little while, then left.¡±


    ¡°What was that like?¡±


    Oh God. She did not want to know. Joe shoved some eggs into his mouth. ¡°Mmm, these are good Mama.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. Was the house big and fancy?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mama. It was. Hard wood floors, expensive rugs, leather furniture. Some day we will have a place like that.¡±


    Mama sighed. She sat down at the table and took Joe¡¯s hand. ¡°You know baby, we are already rich in the blessings that matter.¡±


    Joe didn¡¯t comment. He wanted to be rich in THINGS!


    *


    By some miracle Joe managed to work his entire shift without seeing Mr. Thorton. After clocking out, he headed for the double doors. They opened. Christy stepped through, tossed her head and glared at him. He heard Mr. Thorton''s office door open. Christy¡¯s glare instantly turned into a big fake smile. Her eyes became wild and bright. Loudly she said, ¡°We sure had fun last night, didn¡¯t we Joe?¡±


    Mr. Thorton asked, ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Joe and me had fun last night didn¡¯t we?¡±


    Before Joe could answer Mr. Thorton asked, ¡°What kind of fun?¡±


    She was going to get him killed. Joe stared at her begging her with his eyes.


    In a low growl, Mr. Thorton said, ¡°Answer me.¡±


    Christy blushed, Joe knew it wasn¡¯t real.


    ¡°Not that kind Dad. I was talking about the game. We won. Joe ran, I cheered, it was great.¡±


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    For a second Mr. Thorton was silent and then he asked, ¡°Is that how you two know each other?¡±


    ¡°Yes."


    Mr. Thorton said, ¡°You two are just friends.¡± There was something about his tone that chilled Joe.


    Christie giggled. ¡°Yes. That¡¯s all. Right Joe?¡±


    Though afraid, Joe turned back toward Mr. Thorton and nodded. He needed this job and she could get him fired on the spot. ¡°If you would excuse me Sir, my shift is over.¡±


    Mr. Thorton didn''t look at him. His eyes were fixed on Christy. An odd energy passed between father and daughter. Joe bolted through the double doors. As they swung shut he heard Christy say, ¡°Call me Joe.¡±


    *


    The bike ride home had been brisk. Parked in the street outside his apartment was Purple Bomb. In the front seat propped back and asleep, was Darryl. Joe rode passed him, but didn¡¯t bother to wake him. He went to the door and unlocked it. Mama was at work. As Joe wheeled his bike inside, Darryl climbed out of the car and came through the open apartment door. He stretched and yawned. ¡°What took you so long?¡±


    Instead of answering Joe asked, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just come pick me up?¡±


    ¡°What and waste more gas on you? I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    While Joe put his bike in his room, the phone rang. He yelled, "Would you get that?"


    ¡°Who do you think I am your personal secretary?¡±


    "Well you do have boobs."


    "Hey don''t be diss''n my man boobs!" Darryl picked up the phone and said, "Hello?" Pause, "Joe its your Maamaa!"


    Joe went into the kitchen. He took the phone. "Hey."


    "Hey. I will be pulling a double shift tonight. Cindy''s baby has the flu. You got any plans?"


    "Not yet but me and Darryl might do something."


    "Let me know. I gotta go, and tell Darryl he best not touch my cake. Its for church. Love you honey."


    "Love you too." Joe hung up the phone.


    Darryl lifted the top off the cake plate. His eyes got big. "Can I have some?"


    ¡°Mama said it¡¯s for church.¡±


    To the cake, Darryl whispered, "Me and you tomorrow." He went to the refrigerator and opened it.


    "Get out of there."


    "I''m hungry."


    "You''re always hungry."


    "If you don''t feed me I''m leaving."


    Joe opened the pantry and pulled out a bag of pretzels. "Here."


    Darryl frowned.


    Joe went into the living room and flipped on the TV. The Oklahoma Sooners were on the sidelines. The commentator''s voice was loud and excited. Joe plopped down on the couch. Darryl dove onto the cushion beside him. He wasn''t eating pretzels he was eating cookies.


    "What are you doing with those?"


    Darryl held up the bag. Written in big Sharpie letters was the word, Darryl. "Your mama left these for me special." She had. That''s just how Mama was. For a few minutes Darryl munched contentedly and then he seized the remote and flipped the channel.


    ¡°What the hell!¡± Joe exclaimed. ¡°I am trying to watch football.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you ever get tired of that mess.¡±


    The truth was he didn¡¯t. He took the remote away from Darryl and changed the channel back. At half time he let Darryl channel surf. Darryl complained, ¡°When is your mama gonna get cable?¡± Before Joe could answer Darryl stood up and shouted, ¡°Never! Never! Sista Vanessa knows that cable is the devil¡¯s workshop, pornographic poison to a young man¡¯s soul!"


    Joe hit him in the stomach. ¡°Shut up.¡±


    Before Darryl could respond the phone rang. Joe jumped up to answer it. It was probably just Mama. He picked up the receiver and said, ¡°Hey.¡±


    The voice that responded to his was not Mama¡¯s, it was Christy¡¯s. Suddenly Joe felt nervous. How had she gotten his number? She said, ¡°Uh, Joe, want to go for a ride? I''ll pick you up at your apartment around eight?¡± How did she know where he lived? ¡°Joe, did you hear me?¡±


    A thousand thoughts rushed through his brain. Last night he had not known what he was getting himself into, today he did. Still, he heard himself say, ¡°Uh, yeah. Sure. See you at eight.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± The line went dead.


    With a trembling hand, Joe hung up the phone

 Chapter 7. Choosing

    At 7:45 p.m. Joe was freshly showered and shaved. He sat perched on the fire hydrant at the end of his street. The sun had gone down. Soon it would be completely dark. Every three seconds he checked his watch. Tonight he was sure Christy would begin, where she ended last night. He took in a deep breath and checked the contents of his wallet.


    The squeaky wheel of Little Tyron Bank¡¯s bicycle caused Joe slam his wallet shut. As Tyron pedaled by he said, ¡°Hi Joe.¡± A few steps behind him was his grandmother.


    Joe said, ¡°Hey Tyron.¡±


    Two lights turned down the street. They were low to the ground. The BMW. She had her daddy¡¯s car. Why? Joe stood up.


    The sight of the car made Tyron stop, so did his grandmother. Both watched the car pull up to the curb.


    Christy rolled down the tinted window.  Her eyes were too bright and Joe instantly felt uneasy. She said, ¡°Hop in Josie.¡±


    Sternly Tyron¡¯s grandmother said, ¡°You behave yourself Josiah.¡±


    His mother called him Josie when he was good, and Josiah when he was headed for trouble.


    Tyron said, ¡°Bye Joe.¡±


    Nervously Joe waved at the boy. He climbed into the expensive car. The upholstery was soft black leather. He slammed the car door. Christy was instantly on top of him. Covering him with liquor fouled kisses. She was ruining another of his shirts. Joe glanced out the window. Tyron¡¯s grandmother was shaking her head at him. Joe said, ¡°Let¡¯s go someplace more private.¡±


    Christy pulled away and said, ¡°I know a place we can go.¡± Her hands shook as she pushed away from him. She wasn¡¯t just tipsy, she was drunk.


    Joe¡¯s conscience tried to kick in, but he denied it by asking, ¡°Can I drive?¡±


    ¡°Sure, Josie.¡±


    ¡°Call me Joe.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Joe.¡± She saluted him like he was in the army or something. The salute was unsteady and wide.


    Joe got out of the car as Christy slid across into his seat. The instant he closed the driver¡¯s door, he forgot about Christy. This car was sweet. He gripped the steering wheel and it purred. He would have a car like this some day. It would be expensive and foreign and bright orange, his favorite color. The interior would be silver leather with gold stitching. He pulled the gearshift out of park and eased away from the curb. The car was so smooth, he felt he was driving through butter. He glanced back in the rear view mirror, Tyron waved at him. Silly kid. He stuck his hand out the window and waved. As they turned onto the freeway Joe asked, ¡°Where are we headed?¡±


    Christy snuggled up against him. Her hair smelled of weed.  ¡°Channel Road. Turn right on Wisteria and follow it to the warehouses. When you get to 1065, stop.¡± Her lips brushed against his throat. She put her hand high up on his inner thigh.


    Lights flashed from passing cars and eighteen wheelers caused the car to drift a little when they roared passed. Up ahead the bay appeared through the trees. Joe could see a couple ships parked at the dock. He turned on Wisteria, a huge Warehouse loomed. Rectangular contained cargo sat in high stacks like building blocks.


    Christy pointed and said, ¡°There it is.¡±


    It was a big white warehouse. The parking lot was empty, so was the yard. Joe pulled into the lot and stopped the car. Christy was all over him, her hands, her mouth, she was like a human octopus.  She began to suck on his  neck.  Mama would notice a hickey. ¡°Don¡¯t do that.¡±


    She just giggled and sucked harder.


    Her jerked his neck away from her.


    ¡°Hey,¡± she protested. Then her tone softened, ¡°I just want to see how dark it gets.¡±


    Stupid.  ¡°It gets darker okay.¡±


    ¡°How dark?¡±


    ¡°Can we do something else?¡±


    Perturbed, Christy shrugged.  She pulled some cigarettes out of her purse.


    Joe was allergic, but he didn¡¯t want to piss her off more.  This was not going very well.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.With shaking fingers, Christy flicked her lighter. It illumined the car. For the first time that night he could clearly see her. Her face was pinched and her make up was smeared. Not smeared from attacking  Joe, but smeared from crying. With trembling lips, she took a slow drag on her cigarette as she it lit. The tip of  it burned brightly.  She flicked off the lighter and they were plunged into darkness.


    Several drags later, the car was full of smoke. Joe coughed.


    Christy laughed. ¡°Guess you don¡¯t smoke?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be good for your lungs, you being an athlete and all.¡± Abruptly she said,  ¡°Let¡¯s go inside.¡±


    ¡°The warehouse?¡±


    ¡°Where else? Duh.¡±


    Reluctantly Joe followed her into the warehouse. Christy unlocked the door with a key. The place must belong to her dad. She flipped a light switch. The single bulb that swung from the ceiling came on. It  cast a wavering light. Christy threw her cigarette on the floor and tamped it out. She pulled some gum out of her purse and offered Joe a piece. This he took. It was that major breath killer kind. When he bit down on it he gasped for air. It was too strong. Through watery eyes he scanned the place. It was empty except for a small couch and a refrigerator.


    Christy went to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer. Joe shook his head. He didn¡¯t like the taste of beer. She frowned at him. She opened her beer. ¡°Come sit down.¡± The blanket that covered the couch was clean and it still smelled good, not musty like the rest of the place. Joe had the strange feeling that all this was pre-prepared, just for him, but why? He sat down. Christy snuggled up against him.  ¡°I hear guys like you are good, really good.¡±


    Unsure of what she meant he remained silent. Though he had a condom in his wallet, he had the feeling that whatever he experienced tonight would not be safe. Fear rippled through him. He tried to calm himself by telling himself that everything was scary the first time. Still, he had to wonder how many guys had been where he was about to go.


    Christy took a long pull on her beer, put it on the floor and then pounced on  Joe. Her hair wrapped all around them. She kissed him so hard his jaw popped and he swallowed his gum. The kiss was deep and fueled by anger. He could feel her anger scorching through him. Why was she so angry? Was she mad at him? Her tongue slid into his mouth. It tasted bad. She tasted bad. The combination of beer, gum, cigarettes and lipstick was nauseating. He tried to get into the moment, but he felt nothing but the weight of her body and the ice of her hands. What was wrong with him?


    Christy noticed his lack of interest. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? Don¡¯t you want me? Everybody wants me.¡±


    "Everybody?¡±


    Her voice became so hard and so sharp Joe felt like he had been cut when she said, ¡°Every Goddamn male wants in my pants, unless they are gay.  You, gay, Joe?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Prove it.¡± She shoved both hands down his pants.


    Joe jerked her hands out and rolled off the couch. She was too aggressive, too angry and close to violence. This was not how he wanted his first time to be. He stood and backed toward the door.


    There was a crunch of gravel outside, like a car pulling into the parking lot. Christy hurled herself at him. He pushed her away. ¡°No.¡±


    She whimpered, ¡°Please¡­¡±


    He turned and ran out the door.  There was a car in the drive. It was Mr. Thorton¡¯s red Cadillac. Oh, God. He spun around and headed toward the docks. He heard Christy scream, ¡°Get back in here!¡± Then Mr. Thorton call out, ¡°Christy? What are you doing here?¡± Joe kicked his legs into high gear and leapt over a clump of bushes. One bush caught on his pants leg. He flipped forward falling hard on his stomach.  For half a second he lay there unable to breathe. Then he heard Christy shout, ¡°I am not going home. I came here to get away from you.¡± Joe leapt to his feet and started running.

 Chapter 8. Getting Home

    Dark clouds raced across the surface of the moon. Behind him the angry voices of Mr. Thorton and Christy faded. Fear pushed Joe to increase his speed. A damp wind blew. He cut across the docks. The water was dark and then light as the moon flickered over head. Men were working. They shouted curse words at each another. A truck pulled out and Joe watched it turn. He followed its lights. It led to a street. He looked both ways. Nothing coming. Hopefully this would lead him home. The cement was hard beneath him. Never had he run this fast or this desperately. His mind raced from question to question. What if Christy told her dad she was with him? What if she lied about what they had done? What if he lost his job and Mr. Thorton told his mother why?


    He passed through the warehouse district into a poor white neighborhood, then from there the houses changed to brick with two car garages. Home was still five or six miles away. His legs began to cramp up. He felt sick to his stomach. His lungs hurt, he couldn¡¯t get enough air. Even though he didn¡¯t want to, he had to slow down. As he eased his pace his stomach revolted. He stopped and vomited. It burned all the way up his throat.


    Through sweat blurred eyes he saw a lawn swing in a yard across the street. He limped over to it and sat down. The taste in his mouth was bad. He pulled out his wallet for a stick of gum, his fingers brushed against the condom. The unused condom. A fresh wave of nausea rocked him. He groaned and stuck his head between his knees and tried to breathe. This night had gone so wrong and Darryl would want every detail. The easiest thing to say was that Mr. Thorton had come along. That was the easiest, but it wasn¡¯t the real reason. Even if Mr. Thorton hadn¡¯t come along, it wouldn¡¯t have happened. The truth was Christy was scary messed up and that scared him.


    Moments passed. Slowly his stomach settled down. He watch the clouds thicken over head as the night grew colder. When he glanced at his watch he felt sick again. It was later than he thought. If he missed curfew Mama would want to know why. He stood. With eyes turned to the sky he whispered, ¡°God, I got to get home.¡± Before he could take a single step a little truck pulled into the drive. Joe froze. Whoever was in that truck might not like a black man in their yard. The truck door opened. There was a rapid click, click sound on the cement, then a sudden burst of angry noise exploded in the stillness. A blur of tiny white leapt through the air and ferociously attached itself to his pant leg. Joe gasped and jumped backwards slamming into the swing. It swung back and smacked him behind the knees. He shook his leg but the damn little dog wouldn¡¯t let go.


    A familiar voice shouted, ¡°Godzilla, down.¡±


    The dog didn¡¯t listen. Morrow ran around the truck and scooped up the miniature demon. She wrapped her fingers around the dog¡¯s snout. The creature¡¯s eyes bulged out at Joe and it growled deep in its throat.


    He sputtered, ¡°Damn, that scared the sh--, I mean crap out of me.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± She hesitated before she asked, ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°I was out running,¡± which was the truth, ¡°and I got a little winded. I stopped and rested on your swing. I hope that¡¯s okay.¡±


    Morrow eyes took in his jeans, shirt and shoes. He was not dressed for running. She said, ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be going now.¡±


    ¡°I can take you home.¡±


    He looked at his watch. If she took him, he would be home in time. ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll go tell my mom.¡± Morrow went to the truck and opened the door for Joe. ¡°Would you like something to drink.¡±


    Joe slid onto the seat. ¡°Please, something to settle my stomach.¡±


    She went inside and returned with Godzilla and a Sprite. She handed him the soda. As Morrow drove him home, he slowly sipped the drink. She was usually pretty quiet and she didn¡¯t break her trend. Joe was grateful, the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk. Between them, Godzilla sat, with his bulging liquid eyes fixed on Joe. Every time Joe moved the dog growled.


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    They crossed into Joe¡¯s neighborhood. Morrow said, ¡°Tell me when to turn.¡±


    Joe pointed. ¡°At Second Street.¡±


    The truck turned. The familiar sights of his neighborhood soothed Joe¡¯s trouble mind and body. Coming home felt good. Morrow stopped her truck in front of his complex. When he climbed out she said, "You take care of yourself.¡±


    ¡°I will. Thanks for the ride.¡±


    She smiled at him. She had the warmest and kindest smile he had ever seen, next to Mama¡¯s. When Joe closed the door, Godzilla threw himself against the window and snarled at him. Then the dog started this awful yipping sound. Morrow pulled away. Godzilla plastered himself against the back window and did not take his eyes off Joe. The dog yapped until Morrow turned at the intersection. Stupid dog, but no body would mess with Morrow when she had Godzilla around. That mutt was way better than mace or pepper spray.


    Joe walked to the front door. Across the threshold wrapped in one of Mama¡¯s old quilts was Cletus, the complex manager. Apparently Cletus was sleeping off another drunk. He lived in the apartment upstairs, and Lucille, his girlfriend, wouldn¡¯t let him in the house when he had been drinking. Cletus growled in his sleep when Joe stepped over him.


    Bugs popped the porch light. Joe unlocked the door. Mama was sitting in her recliner with her Bible opened in her lap. The reading lamp cast a circle of warm yellow light around her. She looked at him and smiled. ¡°Hi baby.¡± Her eyes scanned him. Joe was terrified of what she might divine from his appearance. Was make up smeared on him? He looked down at his shirt. He had worn something dark on purpose. She asked, ¡°What you been doing Josie?¡±


    As Joe considered the answer to this question, he realized he did not have the energy to lie, but he also lacked the courage to be honest. There had to be something in between. Inspiration struck him. ¡°I got the urge to go for a run and I got too far out. Morrow saw me and brought me home.¡±


    Mama¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°It¡¯s not safe to be running around at night. I told you to go to the park or the track.¡± She paused then added, ¡°Morrow lives an awful long way from here, doesn¡¯t she?¡±


    Joe could see Mama¡¯s mind working through her eyes. She was pinning him down, forcing him to fess up. Slowly he started, ¡°I know. I just had to run. It was an accident, no, it was a miracle that I stopped right in front of Morrow¡¯s house just as she was getting home. She offered me a ride only seconds after I prayed for a way to get home. God was watching over me, Mama, He really was.¡±


    Mama gave him a tolerant smile. ¡°I don¡¯t doubt that He was Joe, but don¡¯t go courting disaster with the hope He will rescue you when you get in too deep.¡±


    Her words hit Joe hard. The past two nights he had been courting disaster and twice he had avoided it. Well hopefully he had, there was no way of knowing what Christy had told her dad.


    Mama closed her Bible and asked, ¡°Why don¡¯t you sit and visit with me a bit? We have barely seen each other all week.¡±


    This was the last thing he wanted. He needed to get to his room before he incriminated himself.


    ¡°You okay, Son?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m really tired. It¡¯s been a long day. I just want to take a shower and go to bed. Could we talk tomorrow?¡±


    ¡°Yes, if that¡¯s what you want.¡±


    Joe nodded and headed for his room. Mama cleared her throat. She wanted a kiss good night. Really the kiss was more than just a kiss, it was a gauge Mama used to test if he had been drinking. Joe sent up a silent prayer that his breath did not still smell like puke or worst yet, Christy. As he pecked his mother¡¯s cheek, he saw her nostril¡¯s flair and she took in a breath, then she smiled up at him and said, ¡°Pleasant dreams.¡±


    If only he would be so lucky.

 Chapter 9. The Spirit

    Light cut through the colored glass windows. Joe had not slept well last night. His stomach was still upset and the muscles in his legs hurt from all the running he had done. Worst of all his head ached and each time Brother Greene pounded the pulpit with his huge fist, pain ricocheted through Joe''s brain. For the umpteenth time he glanced at his watch. Kick off had just happened. It was bad enough to schedule a potluck meal on game day, but to preach passed noon, that had to be a sin. Brother Greene''s cadence was at full volume. The whole congregation was restless except for Darryl. On the back pew beside his sister he was sound asleep with his mouth wide open. Danita saw Joe''s glance and smiled at him. She rolled her eyes. Joe just shook his head.


    More time passed. Darryl snored and Danita elbowed him. The Texans game was well into the first quarter. Why didn¡¯t Brother Greene shut up? He used to play pro ball and had been a linebacker. A nasty knee injury had ended his career. Maybe that was it, he was bitter about his short career and now he hated football. Joe slumped in the pew and closed his eyes. He might as well get a little nap too.


    Sleep came and teased him, he was sinking fast when he felt a strange vibration beside him. Joe opened one eye. Mama was crying. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and her entire body shook. What the hell? Joe tuned into the sermon.


    Brother Greene pleaded, ¡°What was can not be changed though it still haunts you. Release the past to God. He does not want us crippled by our pasts. He wants to comfort us, and heal our hurts. Take the lessons you learned, but let go of all the rest. Ask God to begin a healing work in you.¡± Joe noticed Brother Greene¡¯s eyes were focused right on Mama.


    Anger then fear swept through Joe. Why was the preacher so intent on his mama? Brother Greene was widowed and there were some women after him. Joe glared at the preacher, but the preacher didn¡¯t see him. He only had eyes for Mama. Mama''s tear filled eyes were staring straight back at the preacher, and damn, there was something there. Was Brother Greene holding church over so he could stare at his mama?


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    Abruptly Mama looked down. Her body began to shake even harder. Joe stopped listening to the preacher. He reached for Mama¡¯s hand. How dare that stupid preacher make his mama cry? Mama whispered, ¡°He¡¯s right you know. I got to move on with my life.¡±


    What did that mean? Their life was just fine. It worked perfectly. Joe noticed the room had grown silent, then Brother Greene asked, ¡°Does any one have a word?¡±


    Dread filled Joe. This was the worst part of the service. People would go up to the pulpit and ramble on and on about what God was doing in their life. Mama raised her hand. Under his breath Joe said, ¡°Crap.¡± He watched her go to the pulpit and smooth out her dress. She focused her eyes on the ceiling and began to sing unaccompanied, "His Eye is On the Sparrow." The last time Joe had heard her sing was three years ago. After that Mama stopped singing and dropped out of the choir. No body knew why. This morning all that pent up melody poured out of her like a rushing river. Her voice was strong pure and holy:


    "Let not your heart be troubled,


    his tender word I hear,


    and resting on his goodness,


    I lose my doubts and fears;


    Though by the path he leadeth


    but one step may I see:


    His eye is on the sparrow,


    And I know he watches me


    The entire congregation was moved, many had tears in their eyes. When she finished, the congregation applauded. Joe felt stunned. What had just happened?


    Brother Greene touched Mama¡¯s arm. The gesture made Joe uneasy. There were tears in both their eyes. What the hell? Mama did not come back to their pew. She remained rooted beside Brother Greene as the choir sang the invitation. Fortunately no one felt the need to get saved or right with God.


    As soon as the final prayer was over Joe rushed to the front of the church. When he reached his mother, he felt suddenly embarrassed. He had no idea of what he should say to her. She said, "You got the keys, I know the game has started. Go on. I will get a ride home."


    "Thanks Mama." In Joe''s peripheral vision Joe saw Darryl moving up the aisle towards him. He knew what he wanted. He wanted details. With a quick kiss to his mother''s cheek, Joe ducked out the side entrance and raced to the parking lot.

 Chapter 10. Mr. Thorton

    The first quarter was over by the time Joe got home. As the game played on, he could not shake the feeling he that something in his life was about to change, big time and it had something to do with Brother Greene. Time passed, the Texans were ahead, and won easily. He should have been happy, but he wasn''t because Mama was still not home. Where was she and why had she not called him? He went to the window and looked out. A huge green sedan drove up to the complex and stopped. It was the preacher and Mama. Moments passed, then minutes before she got out of the car. She was laughing. Her whole body jiggled with laughter. Joe couldn¡¯t remember the last time he had seen her laugh like that. What could be so funny?


    Mama closed the door and headed up the sidewalk. She was radiant, beautiful. Joe felt like he was seeing his mother for the very first time, not as Mama, but as a woman. It made him feel squirrelly inside. He rushed to  his room, pulled out his neglected Calculus book and pretended to be doing home work.


    His mother was humming when she entered the apartment. Joe waited tensely for her to come in and explain herself. She didn''t.


    *


    Usually the only good thing about working Sunday evenings was that it meant Joe did not have to go to church. Tonight he would much rather be in church, keeping an eye on Brother Greene. Here, at the store he was sure to run into Mr. Thorton. His mind was filled with possible scenarios about what Christy may or may not have told her dad. Each time he went up front to sack groceries, Shirley, the checker, would ask, ¡°You all right?¡± and he would lie.


    While he restocked pinto beans he glanced at his watch. Mr. Thorton hadn¡¯t come in yet. Mr. Thorton always came in on Sunday Nights. Always. The minutes ticked away.  His shift was almost over. Still, no Mr. Thorton. Joe started humming under his breath. It looked like he would make it home without any contact with the boss. He took the empty boxes to the back of the store and flattened them. As he placed them on the box pile, the double doors swung open and then closed. Joe froze. He didn¡¯t even have to turn around to know who it was. Mr. Thorton¡¯s expensive cologne filled the room with sickening sweetness.


    ¡°Evening Joe.¡±


    Slowly, Joe turned around. His voice squeaked when he said, ¡°Evening Mr. Thorton."


    Mr. Thorton¡¯s eye brows were furrowed in a V. He said, ¡°I¡¯d like a word with you Joe.¡±


    This was it. This was the moment he had been dreading all day. He was either about to get fired or killed.


    ¡°Come into my office.¡±


    A tremor shuddered through Joe as he walked into the office. He could feel and hear the rhythm of his accelerated heart. Breathing became difficult and then impossible. Once inside the office, Mr. Thorton closed the door. The click of the door sounded like a gun being cocked. Mr. Thorton went to his desk and sat down on the edge of it. His eyes took in Joe from head to foot.   In a single instant, unveiled hatred flared out at Joe. Mr. Thorton blinked and the hatred disappeared. He asked, ¡°So you and my daughter are friends?¡±


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    Joe gulped in some air before he spoke. ¡°We go to school together, but I don¡¯t consider us friends.¡±


    Mr. Thorton squinted his eyes. ¡°Would you like to date her?¡±


    Carefully he said, ¡°No, offense sir, but I do not want to date your daughter. We don''t have anything in common.¡±


    The light in Mr. Thorton¡¯s eyes shifted. ¡°Really?¡±


    From this moment, right now and never again, would he ever even spend time with Christy Thorton.  ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°I will have to believe you.¡± The emotion in Mr. Thorton¡¯s eyes changed again. He said, ¡°I hear you are pretty good at running the ball. Any schools interested in you?¡±


    Uneasily Joe shifted his feet. ¡°There have been some scouts from Texas A & M and Oklahoma University.¡±


    ¡°Fine schools.¡± Mr. Thorton¡¯s voice took on an odd quality. ¡°Seems like I remember another player, who ran like you.¡±


    All the air seemed to leave the room.


    ¡°What was his name? Mmm¡­Reginald Johnson. Got mixed up in dope. You mixed up in dope boy?¡±


    ¡°No Sir.¡±


    ¡°Rumor has it, he used to play skipped out on acid. Some say that¡¯s why he ran so fast.¡±


    Joe had heard this rumor too.


    Mr. Thorton rose from his desk. ¡°I remember Reginald wasn¡¯t too bright. How are your grades Joe? You think you can make it at A&M?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°I hope so. It was an embarrassment to the town when Reginald dropped out and ran away from college.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me sir, but my mama¡¯s waiting for me.¡±


    ¡°Oh, sorry son. You can go.¡± Mr. Thorton crossed the floor and opened the door for Joe.


    Often Joe had heard the expression, like a bat out of hell. For the first time he understood what it meant. He clocked out, raced to the front of the store and through the doors. Mama¡¯s car wasn¡¯t waiting for him, but the Purple Bomb was. Though he did not want to deal with Darryl''s curiosity, he rushed to the car and climbed in. He asked, ¡°Where¡¯s Mama?¡±


    ¡°Church is running over again.  I thanked the Lord Jesus when your mama asked me to come get you. If I had to listen to Brother Greene one more second, I would have converted to Satanism.¡± Darryl punched the gas. The car slammed backwards then squealed as it peeled out. As soon as they were on the highway, Darryl asked, "So how was last night? Don''t leave out a single detail."


    In a flat voice, like it didn''t matter Joe said, "Nothing happened. Her old man showed up."


    Darryl frowned, "Man, that sucks."


    It didn''t, but Joe didn''t say so

 Chapter 11. Darryl鈥檚 Sister

    Friday, Calculus. Last class of the day, Coach Wilson taught it. Joe sat down in his desk and pulled out his text book. The bell rang. He had made it through the entire week without running into Christy. Of course he had feigned a stomachache during the pep rally, so he wouldn¡¯t have any contact with her. Tonight he would have to see her, but cheerleaders weren¡¯t allowed to talk to players on the field. So he would be safe, at least during the game.


    At his desk, Coach Wilson reached for the role sheet. When he saw Joe he asked, ¡°How you feeling, Joe?¡±


    ¡°Fine, now.¡±


    ¡°Glad to hear it. When you missed the pep rally I almost called your mama to check on you.¡±


    Thank God he hadn¡¯t done that. Mama would have fetched him home and poured chicken noodle soup down his throat till he drowned.


    Coach asked, ¡°What was wrong?¡±


    ¡°Stomachache.¡±


    Alarmed Coach asked, ¡°Did you take something for it?¡±


    ¡°Its fine now, don¡¯t worry.¡±


    ¡°Well you tell me if you need anything.¡±


    Joe nodded.


    Coach Wilson handed out worksheets. Joe struggled through his. Even with his calculator he couldn''t do this stuff. In front of him, he noticed Morrow was struggling too. There were erasure crumbs all over her desk.


    The hands on the clock moved slowly. Joe couldn¡¯t wait for the bell to ring.


    Coach Wilson took up the worksheets. ¡°Don¡¯t forget you have a test on Monday.¡±


    Everyone stuffed their books into their backpacks. The bell rang. The day, the week was over. Joe rushed into the hallway and ran right into Christy Thorton. Her eyes opened wide in surprise, then filled with anger. ¡°Watch where you are going.¡±


    ¡°Sorry.¡± He took a step away from her.


    Acid filled her words as she glanced back at her cheerleader posse and said, ¡°Joe''s gay.¡±


    The heat of anger rose inside of Joe.


    The girls started to giggle.


    Joe¡¯s fingers curled into a fist. He glared at the girls. One was not giggling. Danita. She moved from the cheerleaders and went to his side. Softly she said, Hey, Joe." Then she did something totally unexpected she tiptoed and kissed his cheek. The gesture cooled his anger. Tingles radiated from his cheek.


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    Danita¡¯s eyes smiled. She batted her long curly black lashes.


    Christy said, ¡°The guy has wings Danita, a wand and fairy dust.¡±


    In an even voice Danita said, ¡°I¡¯ll see you tonight Christy. Come on Joe.¡± She slipped her fingers through his and led him to her locker.


    Mesmerized, Joe stared down at her. He had known Danita¡¯s entire life. He never expected her touch could make  him feel like he felt right now. Her fingers slipped out of his. She stuffed her books in her locker and said, ¡°"Don''t listen to that girl, she is all kinds of prejudice. If a body ain''t white, straight and rich she hates them. She''s mean. Let it go, Joe.¡±


    Mesmerized by her, Joe nodded. There was something about her warm brown skin, her perfect teeth and man she smelled good. Her body curved in all the right places. His eyes strayed to her lips, lips that had so recently made contact with his skin. He touched her face with the palm of his hand. Her beautiful brown eyes held soft light. He leaned close and said, ¡°Thank you.¡± An inch was all that separated them. Just a little closer...


    Danita blushed and pulled away from his hand. First he was hurt, then he saw Darryl coming. Darryl would not like him kissing his little sister.


    ¡°Hey man what you doing here with the Stick?¡±


    Danita punched her brother in the arm. ¡°Mama told you not to call me that.¡±


    Darryl frowned.


    Joe laughed and said. ¡°She don¡¯t look like no stick, or haven¡¯t you noticed?¡±


    ¡°Man, that¡¯s gross.¡± He turned to Danita and said, ¡°Isn¡¯t there some place you need to be?¡±


    ¡°Shoot! Yes, I got drama practice.¡± Danita slammed her locker closed. She stole a glance at Joe, and then ran down the hall.


    Joe watched her until Darryl slapped him upside the head. ¡°Don¡¯t you be getting¡¯ no ideas about my sister.¡±


    Getting ideas? He already had ideas. Plenty of them.

 Chapter 12. The Game

    Pasadena Memorial Stadium was packed. Somewhere in that sea of faces was Mama. Joe always felt more apprehensive when the team played away. He wasn¡¯t used to the surface, the stripes, the score board. It took him a while to get oriented. Still, knowing Mama was up there helped.


    The drums thumped a wild rhythm. Darryl couldn¡¯t keep his body still. He had to dance. Further down, Joe saw Danita moving to the music too, she danced way better than Darryl. Christy¡¯s hair flew into view, and Joe quickly turned his eyes back to the field. One more play and the Tiger offense would be on the field. Pasadena Memorial was playing better than expected, but they still failed to score. As Joe ran onto the field he glanced at the stands. He needed to see Mama. He had a lump in his throat that ran all the way to his stomach. There on the front row was Mr. Thorton. He raised his hand to Joe. Joe didn¡¯t know what it meant, so he pretended like he didn¡¯t see it.


    They lined up, the play was put in motion. Joe followed his appointed path, but his legs weren¡¯t hitting right. He was out of sync. The ball was coming his way. He extended his hands, but the ball brushed against his fingertips. It hit the ground and bounced.


    Another line up, another try. Joe was not the receiver this time. His legs were not finding their stride. The play was short, hardly any yardage gained. As he made his way to line up again, he glanced into the stands. This time he saw Mama. She was not alone, the damned preacher was beside her. Could tonight get any worse? Fourth down came and went and they still weren¡¯t on the boards.


    Play after play was executed. Pasadena scored a field goal. Only three points on the board.


    By late second quarter Joe had gained some yardage, but he had yet to score.


    In the huddle Stan signed the next play in the palm of his hand. The ball would be directed to Joe, if he was open. The huddle broke up and they fell in line. The ball snapped. Joe took off running. He dodged his defense, but his foot lost ground. The next thing he knew he was slammed from behind. Wham. His helmet, his entire body bounced off the artificial turf. A strange ringing sound echoed in his head. The last thing he needed was a concussion. He remained very still.


    A lot of cleats circled around him. Perlman Jenkin¡¯s asked, ¡°Do you think his neck¡¯s broken?¡±


    Joe hadn¡¯t even thought of that.


    Doc Bradshaw fingered his spine, then his neck. When he finished he asked, ¡°Can you move your arms and legs Joe?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡± Joe wiggled his fingers and toes, then his arms and legs.


    Doc carefully rolled him over and shone a little light into his pupils. ¡°How¡¯s your head feel?¡±


    Except for the ringing, his head felt okay. ¡°Good.¡±


    Perlman and Doc hoisted him up. The movement up made him feel dizzy. He staggered a little, then his legs became steady. As he was led off the field he looked up into the crowd. The crowd was clapping. He wished they were clapping because he had just scored. Then he saw Mama pressed up against the barrier. Terror registered in her eyes. He smiled at her. Her expression softened. Then Joe noticed she was holding Brother Greene¡¯s hand. Abruptly he turned away.


    During half time Doc Bradshaw gave Joe a thorough going over. When he finished he said, ¡°Just got the wind knocked out of you. Think you will be up to playing?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell Coach Wilson. You just rest here till it¡¯s time to go out. I don¡¯t want you running through that damn paper banner though, so hang back.¡±


    Joe didn¡¯t know what Doc had against paper banners. It didn¡¯t matter. All that mattered was that they win. And to win, he needed to get his legs and his focus. He must concentrate on the ball and only the ball. Not anything or anyone else.


    Back on the field, it was agony sitting on the bench. Joe hated it. His butt was getting numb. How did Darryl stand it? Darryl sat beside him, content, humming to himself, watching the cheerleaders, the drill team and any stray band girl whose white pants were tight. All Joe wanted to do was play.


    Darryl mumbled, ¡°Relax man, enjoy. You work too hard anyway.¡±


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    ¡°We are loosing.¡±


    ¡°So, somebody¡¯s got to loose.¡±


    Joe started to argue, but he didn¡¯t want to waste his energy.


    Finally, half way through fourth quarter, Coach Wilson called him. He asked, ¡°You up to it Joe?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He went to the sidelines to be substituted in.


    Grateful to be on the field, Joe vowed not to let himself get distracted. When the ball was put in play he took off running. His legs still felt odd, but that didn¡¯t matter, the ball was not intended for him. The ball arced toward John Reeves. John caught the ball and took off running. Joe blocked his defender. John gained fifteen yards, but they were still a long way from goal.


    The rest of the plays turned sour. Offense left the field. Defense went on. Joe watched Darryl. His moves were slow and inexact. He looked like he could care less. When Darryl came off the field, Joe shouted, ¡°You could at least act like you care.¡±


    Darryl growled, ¡°I do care, I¡¯m just not freakin¡¯ obsessed.¡±


    Another thing to let go. Joe stepped onto the field and ran to his position. Why had he yelled at Darryl? No time to figure that out. He glanced at the clock. Precious moments were speeding away. Fifty-nine seconds. They were going to loose by three lousy points if they didn¡¯t come up with something.


    A little yardage here, a little yardage there. First down, second down, first again. They weren¡¯t in field goal range yet. Joe hadn¡¯t gotten his hands on the ball. Not once. Stan had apparently lost faith in him. Another thing to let go. Joe lined up. The ball was not intended for him again. It was snapped. He cut loose and out distanced his defender by several yards. He glanced back. Stan was throwing the ball. But it was not coming to him. Still Joe knew, felt, this ball would make it. He saw John stretch out his arms. He had it. With fingers curled around it, he ran over the goal. Score!


    The stadium exploded with noise.


    Back home, in the field house everyone was in a party mood, but Joe. They had won, but it had been a sloppy win. Joe had played badly and he knew it. If any scouts were out there tonight, he knew he had not impressed them. Slowly he undressed and tossed his uniform in the laundry cart, then shoved his pads into his locker. All he wanted to do was go home and forget this game. He went to the showers.


    Darryl, dripping wet and naked was singing songs in Spanish. Seemed like Purple Bomb was rubbing off on him. As Joe stepped under a showerhead, Darryl asked, ¡°Want to go to Stan¡¯s?¡±


    ¡°No, I just want to go home.¡±


    ¡°Well, then you will have to find another ride.¡±


    ¡°Fine.¡± In the mood Joe was in, a run home, might not be such a bad thing. He needed time to find his legs. What had happened to his stride? But he was tired, dog-tired. Too tired to run or beg Darryl for a ride home.


    After a hasty shower, Joe toweled off and dressed. Outside the field house the night was turning cool. A circle of haze glowed around the moon. He took in a big gulp of air. He saw Christy Thorton and some other cheerleaders cross the parking lot. Danita wasn¡¯t with them. Joe hid in the shadow of the field house entry. Then, he saw Mama, standing in a pool of light near her car.


    Unexpected tears stung Joe¡¯s eyes. He went to her, grateful she was alone. She smiled at him and said, ¡°I had to check on you. How are you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He wasn¡¯t. All he wanted to do was throw himself up against Mama and wail like he did when he was a little boy. He wanted to hear her say the things she used to say to him, to soothe him and calm him down. He wanted her to tell him everything would be all better. And he wanted to believe her words were true.


    She said, ¡°I guess I¡¯ll be going. Don¡¯t stay out too late.¡±


    Before he spoke, Joe swallowed hard. He did not want his voice to sound all quivery when he asked, ¡°Could you take me home?¡±


    Mama didn¡¯t ask why, she just said, ¡°Sure.¡±


    When they were inside the car, he said, ¡°I played really bad tonight.¡±


    ¡°Some nights are like that, Josie.¡± She reached for his hand. Briefly her fingers closed over his. It wasn¡¯t much, but it made him feel better. She said, "Next week, there is another game, and you will do better."

 Chapter 13. Danita

    Just out the corner of Joe¡¯s left eye, he could see Danita. She looked so pretty in her pale blue dress. He wished he was one pew back so he could really see her. He wished he had sat with her and he would have if she weren¡¯t wedged between her parents. Without Mama beside him, Joe felt a little lonely. Wednesday night she had rejoined the choir. Joe had his suspicions about this.  Had she joined to sing, or be closer to the preacher?  At the moment Mama¡¯s eyes remained locked on the preacher. Did anyone else notice her all google eyed? If Darryl did, he was sure to comment.


    When the service was over, Mama had to go put up her choir robe. Joe took this opportunity to get close to Danita. Her smile was so warm when she saw him coming toward her. Shyly she said, ¡°Hey, Joe.¡±


    ¡°Hi.¡±


    She said, ¡°You played a good game Friday night.¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡±


    Danita increased the wattage of her smile. ¡°You looked good to me.¡±


    Wow! She was flirting with him. Before Joe could answer, Darryl slapped him upside the head. Angrily Joe spun around. Darryl¡¯s eyes were serious. His voice dropped low, ¡°What did I tell you about my sister?¡±


    With her purse Danita whacked Darryl in the arm. ¡°I¡¯m gonna tell Mama if you don¡¯t stop it. Boys can talk to me, you are not my guard dog even if you do look like one.¡±


    Joe couldn¡¯t help himself he laughed and said, ¡°Burn.¡±


    Darryl didn¡¯t find this funny.


    Danita took a step closer to Joe. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tomorrow at school.¡± She turned to her brother and said, ¡°Come on Fido, Mama¡¯s waiting.¡±


    The way Danita walked was a cross between a dancer¡¯s step and an athlete¡¯s stride.  Her dress fluttered softly around her thighs. A hand touched Joe¡¯s shoulder. Mama said, ¡°That girl sure has grown up.¡±


    Joe couldn¡¯t speak.


    ¡°Come on son. Let¡¯s get home before the game is over.¡±


    Joe had not even thought about the game. Not even once. He glanced at his watch. Man, Brother Greene had done it again. First quarter was over.


    *


    Monday, afternoon, and Joe had yet to see Danita. He hoped she wasn¡¯t sick. At lunch he started to ask Darryl about it, but decided it wouldn¡¯t be in his best interest. He would ask Morrow in Calculus. She and Danita were friends. On his way to Calculus Joe passed Christy. She didn¡¯t acknowledge him in any way and he was relieved. That was over, what ever it had been, thank God. He went into Coach Wilson¡¯s room and sat down. Morrow was thumbing through a drawing tablet on her desk. He asked her, ¡°Is Danita here today?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. She¡¯s been in the drama room most of the day.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s in the play.¡±


    ¡°What part does she have?¡±


    ¡°She has a solo dance.¡±


    ¡°Really.¡±


    Morrow turned to face him. ¡°Yeah, she¡¯s really good. Don¡¯t you ever go to plays?¡±


    No he never went to plays but that was about to change.


    Morrow asked, ¡°Why are you so interested in Danita all the sudden?¡±


    In order to dodge the question Joe reached over Morrow¡¯s shoulder and grabbed her drawing tablet.


    ¡°Hey.¡±


    He opened it and asked, ¡°What you got in here?¡±


    ¡°Just some stuff I drew.¡±


    Joe opened the tablet expecting to see flowers and hearts. What he saw surprised him. Detailed drawings in pencil. All the people Morrow had drawn were so good and so life like. He just stared and dumbly asked, ¡°You did these?¡±


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    ¡°Don¡¯t sound so surprised.¡±


    Truth was she had surprised him. She never mentioned her art the entire time he had known her, and they had known each other since second grade. He turned to the next page and gasped.


    Morrow saw the picture and laughed. ¡°You scared of my dog?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He may be little but he sure is mean.¡± The dog¡¯s eyes glistened on the page. His sharp little teeth were poised to bite. Joe flipped to the next page. It was a black and white sketch of Mr. Anderson, Morrow¡¯s grandpa. ¡°Who taught you to draw like this?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had some lessons, but mostly it is inherited. And I love to draw. When I draw I forget everything else. Time stands still and everything just fades away.¡±


    That was an exact description of how Joe felt when he ran. Softly he said, ¡°You have a gift.¡±


    ¡°I know and I want to honor it.¡±


    What did she mean by that? Before he could ask her the bell rang. Morrow took her tablet from him and stuffed it into her backpack.


    Coach Wilson pulled out a stack of worksheets. He smiled and said, ¡°For today¡¯s test¡ª¡°


    Joe didn¡¯t hear anything after that. Test. TEST. What test? Had Coach told them there was going to be a test? His mind raced back to Friday afternoon, lingered on Danita, rushed though the memory of Christy, then, he remembered. A lot of good it did him now. He was going to fail in the worst way. His daily grades were so bad.  A failed test would send him over the edge. If he failed the class, he couldn¡¯t play football. If he couldn¡¯t play the scouts wouldn¡¯t see him, if the scouts didn¡¯t see him he wouldn¡¯t get a scholarship. If he didn¡¯t get a scholarship, his dreams would all be in the toilet.


    Coach Wilson placed a test on Joe¡¯s desk. He lowered his voice and said, ¡°Relax Jones. You know more than you think you do.¡±


    Right. The math equations looked as familiar as Chinese. Joe put his pencil on the paper praying some magic might occur. It didn¡¯t. In his mind he heard Mama say, ¡°Something is better than nothing. At least try.¡± Well, all he could do was pray that was true. He began to scribble and erase and scribble some more. Seconds lasted longer than minutes as he struggled. When the bell rang he still had two problems left. The rest of the class filed out.


    From his desk, Coach Wilson said, ¡°Take your time Jones.¡±


    Joe was sick of  trying. Two more wrong answers counted the same as two blanks. Still, effort was effort and he just couldn¡¯t bring himself to turn in blank problems. He wrote something down, that looked like Calculus and took his paper to Coach Wilson.


    Coach took the paper but didn¡¯t look at it. He put it with the rest of the tests on his desk, and then he opened his drawer, from it he pulled a small box.  ¡°Take this, it will help you.¡±


    Joe opened the box. It was an expensive calculator. He didn¡¯t know what to say.


    ¡°It¡¯s for you. Keep it. It will help you with your homework.¡±


    ¡°But-¡°


    ¡°No buts. You need it and I need you to pass this class.¡±


    ¡°Are my grades that bad?¡±


    ¡°Nothing that can¡¯t be fixed.¡±


    Joe pocketed the calculator.  ¡°Uh, thanks Coach.¡±


    Coach Wilson smiled.