by Suzanne Weyn
“Hey, listen to me Norval,” Arnie said. “I’ve got to talk to you.”
Norval stopped to face him. “Make it fast.”
“I don’t blame you for being mad, okay? I’ve been acting like a jerk to everybody lately. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry about last night.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Norval said.
“No. I feel bad. Really. You’re making too big a deal out of this concussion thing, though. I don’t want to be benched. There are only a few weeks left of the season. I’ll get better after that.”
Norval looked at Arnie. The guy seemed really sincere and… scared. Norval couldn’t hold on to his anger when his friend looked so wrung out.
“I haven’t said anything to Coach Green. And I won’t. Why don’t you say you’re sick? Stay out of school for a while so you can get better,” Norval suggested.
“What am I going to say is wrong with me?”
“Say you have the flu. You’re throwing up, aren’t you?”
Arnie looked at the floor, as if considering Norval’s words. But when he turned back to Norval, his face was twisted with anger. “You’d like that, huh?” Arnie snarled.
“What are you talking about?” Norval asked.
“You’d look pretty good to the Miller College scouts without me in the way. You could get with Lara.”
“That’s crazy. I don’t even like Lara,” Norval said. “I’m with Sadie.”
“That’s not what Lara told me. She said you were hitting on her.”
“She was trying to make you jealous because you stood her up. She’s probably mad that I blew her off. And anyway, we’re friends. I’m not going to go after someone you’re seeing,” Norval said. “Plus, I wouldn’t do that to Sadie.”
“We’re not friends,” Arnie yelled. “If you were my friend you wouldn’t be trying to get me kicked off the team.”
“That’s nuts, Arnie. You’re losing it,” Norval said.
“I’m about to,” Arnie growled, and shoved Norval.
Coach Green came up and got between them. “What’s the trouble here?”
Norval drew a deep breath. This was the moment. It was time to admit that he thought Coach was right—Arnie was suffering a number of concussion symptoms.
“I asked what the problem was,” Coach Green said.
“It’s about a girl,” Norval told him. “He thinks I’m interested in his girlfriend, but I’m not.”
“Do you believe him?” the coach asked Arnie.
“I guess so,” Arnie said.
“No more fighting,” Coach Green said. “I’m not kidding. I’ll bench you both.”
“We’re cool,” Arnie assured him.
Coach nodded and walked down the hall.
When the coach was gone, Norval asked, “Are we cool?”
“No. We’re not,” Arnie snapped. “But I’ll make you a deal. Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
“Suit yourself,” Norval said. He didn’t need to put up with any of Arnie’s crazy mood swings. They had had been friends since grade school, and he hated to see their friendship end. But if that was how Arnie wanted it, there was nothing he could do.
– – – – –
Later, in the locker room, Coach Green approached Norval again. “What do you think? Is he all right to play?”
Norval came back at him, almost shouting. “Don’t lay that on me—I can’t make that call! I don’t care what he does.”
“I didn’t ask you to make the call. I’ll do that. I just asked for your opinion,” the coach said. “I’m asking you what you think.”
“I think he’s all right,” Norval said. Angry as he was, he wasn’t going to be responsible for wrecking Arnie’s dreams. “He’s just nervous about getting a scholarship offer these days.”
“And about his girlfriend?”
“Yeah, and that. But he’s got it all wrong about me and her.”
Coach Green stared at him for a long moment. “You’re sure that’s all it is? You’re his friend. You know him better than I do.”
“I think so. Pretty sure. Yeah.”
Norval would never rat anyone out. That’s not how he operated.
“Okay, then,” Coach Green said. “Thanks for your input. The rest is up to me.”
A
s play-offs began, the Titans found themselves once again playing the Hempstead Huskers. Kadeem addressed the team in the locker room before everyone headed out to the field.
“Arnie, Norval. I’ve heard rumors that they’re going to come after you two hard. Arnie, you keep running interference for Norval. But I want the rest of you guys watching Arnie. Look alert. I don’t want him getting creamed out there. He’s one of our fastest guys, and we need him.”
Arnie smiled as Kadeem recognized his speed.
Norval was sure that he and Kadeem shared the same concerns about Arnie. “Have you spoken to Coach?” he asked as they prepared to leave the locker room.
“Not yet,” Kadeem admitted. “Somehow I just can’t bring myself to do it.”
“Me neither,” Norval said.
“We’ll try to cover him as best we can, keep him from getting hit,” Kadeem said. “Want to make an agreement? If he goes down again this game, we talk to the coach afterward. Okay?”
Norval was glad at the suggestion. Lying to the coach was starting to bother him. There were only a few more games left in the season. If they could cover Arnie, keep him from getting hit, then he’d have the time to recover. If that was impossible, they’d have him sidelined. Even if talking to Coach didn’t feel right, they’d have to do it.
“Definitely,” Norval agreed. “That’s what we have to do.”
The Huskers tackled Arnie again and again during the first two quarters. More than once, Norval and Kadeem exchanged worried glances. If the Huskers were serious about targeting Arnie, there was no way to completely protect him.
Arnie wasn’t making it easy for them, either. He fumbled the ball twice, and he wasn’t running at his usual speed. He was off his game, even though his teammates were doing their best to pick up the slack.
Coach Green called a time-out. “Johnson, I want you to sit out,” he said.
Arnie threw his arms wide, and Norval waited for the explosion.
“I can play, Coach,” Arnie said calmly. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Seriously.”
Coach Green squinted, scrutinizing Arnie. His expression seemed to soften. “Sit out for a while. I’ll decide if I’m going to put you in later.”
Kadeem and Norval looked to each other with relief. Coach Green had made the call, and it was the right one.
The game was tight as halftime approached, with the Titans trailing the Huskers by a few points. Coach Green pulled Arnie’s replacement out of the game. “Get in there, Johnson,” he said.
“Yes, sir, Coach,” Arnie said, putting his helmet on. “You won’t regret it.”
When play resumed, Kadeem passed the ball to Norval, who zigzagged his way down the field. Arnie flanked him as the Southside fans cheered wildly.
A Husker defender appeared at Norval’s side. Then three defensive players ran into view nearby. Jerome dashed between them and Norval. The Hempstead players flanked Jerome on both sides, then passed him, heading for Norval. Norval saw an open player in a Southside jersey—Arnie. He grimaced and lateralled him the football.
Arnie snagged the ball over the head of a defender.
Instantly the Husker defense crossed the field toward Arnie. Two more defenders appeared to Arnie’s right. The five of them brought Arnie down at the thirty-yard line and piled on as the ref blew his whistle.
Norval remembered Coach’s words from earlier: If one player runs into another player at full speed, that’s the same as getting hit by a car going forty miles an hour. Was this equal to five cars?
The Hempstead players got up and headed back toward their teammates. Norval waited for Arnie to rise—and he did. Slowly. But rather th
an joining the other Titans, he just stood there.
Norval ran up to Arnie. “Are you okay?”
Arnie didn’t seem to even hear him.
“Arnie!”
Still Arnie didn’t respond.
“Can you see me?” Norval asked him.
Another whistle blasted. The coaches had called time-out. Coach Green and Coach Gannon were crossing the field toward them.
“You’re… jumping,” Arnie murmured. “Everything is jumping.” He bent forward and vomited through his facemask.
“Come on,” Coach Green said with calm firmness, and he put his arm around Arnie’s shoulders. “Let’s get you to the bench. ”
This time Arnie didn’t argue. He let Coach Green steer him off the field.
N
orval watched as Arnie sat on the bench and the medics looked him over. A burly young medic named Phil shined a small flashlight in Arnie’s eyes.
“One pupil is more dilated than the other,” Phil reported to another medic. He then held up one finger. “Try to follow my finger with your eye,” Phil said, and he slowly drew a straight line in the air in front of Arnie.
Phil looked his partner and shook his head. “He’s not following.”
Next Phil held out two fingers to Arnie. “Grab my fingers as hard as you can,” he said.
Arnie did as he was told.
Again, Phil shook his head. “Weak grip,” he reported to the other medic. “Can you describe to me how you’re feeling, Arnie?” Phil asked.
“Sick,” Arnie answered. “And I’m seeing things weird. One minute everything is blurred. Then it’s jumpy and flickering. Sometimes I see two of things.”
“Probable traumatic occipital lobe injury. Possibly secondary impact syndrome,” Phil said to the other medic. “Let’s bring the ambulance around. Arnie, we’re taking you the hospital, okay? They’ll need to run some tests on you.”
“What kind of tests?” Norval asked.
“A CAT scan and probably an MRI. They’ll want to get a look at his brain.”
“Are your parents in the stands, Arnie?” Coach Green asked.
Arnie didn’t reply.
“They don’t usually come to the games,” Norval told him.
“Okay. I’ll call them,” Coach Green said.
The medics left for a moment. Norval heard the whoop of an ambulance siren as they brought the vehicle to the edge of the field. Then they unloaded a stretcher and strapped Arnie onto it.
“Can I go with him?” Norval asked.
“Are you family?” Phil asked. Norval shook his head. “Then you can’t. Sorry.”
“You have a game to finish, Norval,” Coach Green said. “Coach Gannon will follow them to the hospital. He’ll stay until Arnie’s parents arrive.”
The other players and the cheerleaders gathered as the medics carried Arnie toward the ambulance. “Will he be all right?” Lara asked Norval.
“I don’t know,” Norval said. “I hope so.”
N
orval’s feet crossed the goal line, and the crowd went wild. He’d scored the winning touchdown. The Titans were headed to the semifinals!
Despite the crowd’s cheers, Norval found it hard to feel happy. He blamed himself for not speaking to Coach Green sooner. Arnie was in the hospital, and he could have prevented it. Once Coach Green had told Norval what to look for, he’d known almost right away that Arnie was dealing with a concussion.
He noticed that Kadeem wasn’t looking too thrilled either, even as their teammates jumped and shouted with joy.
“I feel for the guy,” Kadeem said as the crowd started to scatter. “I’m pretty sure I’ve had a concussion or two. I’ve had some of those symptoms. But they always go away.”
“Your brain probably had time to heal,” Norval said.
“Maybe. It was just luck if that’s the case. I knew those Miller scouts were watching Arnie. I didn’t want to mess up his chances. Since I’ve always ended up all right, I hoped Arnie would too. It’s not fair. Why did I get better, and Arnie just kept getting worse?”
“It could be your position,” Norval said. “The quarterback doesn’t get hit as much. Your brain has had time to heal between hits. And Arnie always ran good interference for me.”
Kadeem scowled. “Man, I want to play pro ball, but even that’s not worth having my brain scrambled. If I have to sit out the season and let my brain heal, then that’s what I have to do, even if it means losing my scholarship. That would suck, though.”
“I know,” Norval agreed.
Kadeem shook his head. “We should have said something. But we didn’t.”
Coach Green approached them from the sidelines. “I hope you boys are happy now,” he said.
“Us?” Norval shouted. He could no longer control himself. “We’re not the guys in charge! You are. You’re the one who made the call.”
“Norval’s right,” Kadeem said. “It isn’t right to put all that on us.”
“Face it! You wanted the win, so you played Arnie. I hope you’re happy!” Norval shouted.
Coach Green’s face turned red with anger. “Watch your mouths, or you won’t play for the rest of the season. I don’t care how good you are.” With that, he turned away.
Norval watched Coach Green go, cursing him under his breath. Then he and Kadeem headed to the locker room in silence.
Once inside, Norval called the hospital. He learned that Arnie was being kept overnight for observation. He could have visitors, though, from six to eight.
“Want to go see him?” Norval asked Kadeem.
“Let’s go tomorrow and give the guy time to rest,” Kadeem said.
Norval nodded. He got dressed and met up with his parents, who had come to see the game. “You’re not going out with your friends?” his mother asked.
“I wouldn’t have any fun,” Norval told her.
T
he following afternoon Norval and Kadeem went over to the hospital. Maritza and Lara were leaving Arnie’s room when Norval and Kadeem arrived.
“How is he?” Norval asked.
“Pretty messed up,” Maritza replied.
Arnie’s parents and his doctor were at Arnie’s bedside, watching as Arnie drew on a pad. Arnie looked up as Norval and Kadeem came in, but he didn’t acknowledge them. It was almost as if he didn’t know who they were.
Glancing at Arnie’s paper, Norval saw that Arnie was drawing clock faces. At least, Norval guessed that they were supposed to be clocks. The one Arnie was working on had the squiggly, irregular shape of an amoeba. Some of the numbers floated inside the clock face. Others were completely outside of it. He had forgotten to draw in the hands of the clock entirely.
The doctor, a petite, dark-haired woman, took the paper from Arnie and showed Arnie’s parents. “We’ll need to run more neurological tests,” she said quietly. “The MRI later today will give us a better sense of what areas of the brain have been injured.”
“How do we fix this?” Arnie’s father asked. His brow was creased with worry. “Lots of rest and rehabilitation,” the doctor said. “I suggest keeping him in a rehabilitation center until he stabilizes. Then he can get help as an outpatient.”
“What kind of help?” Arnie’s mother asked.
“He’ll work with a physiatrist, someone trained in brain injury recovery. There are exercises that can help the brain recover function after a trauma. The brain can rewire itself. He’ll need to be where his brain has the ideal conditions to do so.”
Norval jumped into the conversation. “Will he recover completely?”
“We don’t really know,” the doctor replied. “He’s young. Young people have a remarkable ability to recover. On the other hand, his youth makes him even more vulnerable when it comes to concussion.”
“Why is that?” Norval asked.
The doctor asked Arnie’s parents if they minded Kadeem and Norval being there before she answered any further questions. Arnie’s parents said they didn’t—the boys were Arnie
’s friends.
“High school athletes suffer more from the damage of concussion than even college athletes,” the doctor said. “Because high school players are still young, their skulls are thinner. Their nervous systems are not fully developed. High school students are also less likely to know the symptoms of a concussion.”
“How bad is Arnie’s concussion?” Kadeem asked.
“Arnie has a severe, grade-three concussion,” the doctor reported. “I imagine that this isn’t his first. After a first concussion, second and third concussions are more likely. This young man should not have been playing football.”
“Will he miss a lot of school?” Norval asked.
“He’s looking at six to eight months of rehabilitation. We don’t want him working too hard on his schoolwork during that time because his brain needs to rest.”
This was bad news. Arnie would not graduate with the rest of them. He looked at Arnie to see how he was taking it.
Arnie just stared blankly. Norval wondered if he even understood what was being said.
Mrs. Johnson approached her son. “Arnie, your friends have come to see you. Aren’t you going to say hello?”
“Hey, buddy,” Kadeem said. “You feeling any better?”
“Hey, Arnie. It’s me,” Norval added. “How are you?”
Arnie didn’t respond.
“He needs to rest,” the doctor told Norval and Kadeem. “You’d better go.”
“He’s going to be better, though, right?” Norval asked.
“I hope so,” the doctor answered. “But it’s going to take time.”
Kadeem and Norval said good-bye and left the room. They walked down the hospital corridor without talking. “This sucks,” Kadeem said, wiping wetness from his eyes.
All Norval could say was, “Sure does.”
N
orval made an effort to see Arnie at the rehabilitation center at least twice a week. Other teammates went too. It got harder in the last weeks of football season, when Coach Green started keeping the team after practice to go over new plays or to watch footage of other teams in the play-offs. But Norval didn’t stop.
