by Tim Green
“People?” Cory asked as the school came into sight.
“Every exceptional man has his doubters.” Mr. Muiller steered his big Bentley sedan around to the back of the school. “There’s a saying that you measure the greatness of a man by the strength of his enemies.”
Cory said, “What enemies?”
46
Cory didn’t realize anyone but Mike Chester felt that strongly about him.
“Well, it’s just a saying. A lot of eyes on you and Gant. A lot of resources.” Mr. Muiller braked the car and looked at the back entrance. “Jimbo’s already here. His mom texted me. Go on in. We’ll pick you guys up, and then your mom’s coming for a visit this afternoon, right?”
“Yes.” Relief and joy bloomed in Cory’s heart. A number of times that week, late at night in the loneliness of his bedroom, he’d considered calling her, but he’d stayed strong, telling himself that he’d see her soon and there was no sense in worrying her. He had to be a man. “Thank you, Mr. Muiller. For taking me to Zach and getting this thing better. Thank you for everything.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll pay me back plenty when you run for touchdowns and catch some passes from Jimbo.” Mr. Muiller clapped Cory on the shoulder.
“I will,” Cory said as he slipped out of the car and headed straight for the field, smiling and excited.
When Coach P saw Cory, he asked, “Well? You good to go today?”
That deflated Cory. “Uh, they said Monday.”
“Hmm.” Coach P turned his back and walked away, leaving Cory to stand on the sideline again, out of the action, and apparently out of Coach P’s thoughts.
Practice was like watching ice melt.
Cory stood there, burning up. He even considered going into the locker room, getting into his gear, and just practicing anyway. That would make a statement to Coach P about how badly he wanted to play, but it might make Mr. Muiller mad, especially if he reinjured his ankle and had to start all over again. So, he gritted his teeth and watched and tried to learn the plays.
During a water break, Gant and Parker and Garrison came over to him to say hello, but that and a couple of limp fist bumps was all they had time for before Coach P blew his whistle and started practice back up again.
Every so often the battle cry of the varsity team on the next field distracted him. Cory told himself he’d be there one day, and missing a week of sixth-grade football would seem like a million miles away.
After practice, he didn’t even go into the locker room but found Mrs. Muiller’s Range Rover in the line of parents picking up kids. Jimbo dragged himself out of the school and slumped down in the front seat, the picture of misery.
“Tuckered out, Jimbo?” chirped his mom.
“Brutal.”
“Well, a dip in the pool will revive you,” she said.
Jimbo swung around and eyed Cory. “How much longer are you on vacation?”
Cory clenched his hands and buried them under his legs. “The trainer said I can practice Monday.”
“Great.” Jimbo sounded like he thought it was anything but great.
“He’s gonna be your star runner,” sang Jimbo’s mom.
“I don’t know about that.” Jimbo yawned. “Mike Chester’s been tearing it up.”
“Oh.” Jimbo’s mom pushed the wide sunglasses up on her face and flipped on the radio.
Cory didn’t think that was true. Mike had scored a couple of touchdowns in practice over the last few days, but none today, and while he could sometimes break tackles by the smaller players, guys like Gant ate him for a snack. Mike went down easy in Cory’s mind, but he held his tongue. He didn’t need to argue with Jimbo. He’d show them all what he could do on Monday, and now he started to get excited about seeing his mom.
When they pulled in through the gates, he saw her tiny green car hunched off to the side of the circular driveway. Cory started to open the door before Mrs. Muiller had even stopped the SUV. “Hey now,” she barked at him, but he dashed up the front steps, flung open the door, and flew through the house, knowing the Muillers took their guests straight to the back terrace overlooking the pool area.
He saw his mom from behind through the glass door. Mr. Muiller was raising a fancy beer bottle in the air and laughing at something she had said.
Cory bolted through the door.
When he saw Liam sitting there in a wheelchair, he nearly fell over.
47
“Liam! Mom!” Cory hugged his mom tight and reached out for a fist bump from Liam.
She held him and squeezed her grip before letting him go. “Let me look at you.”
Cory was embarrassed, and he wondered how much she knew about his first week at HBS.
“Oh, you look fine, Cory.” She smoothed out the wrinkles he’d left in her black sleeveless sweater. “Just fine. I don’t know what I thought you would look like; you look fine.”
“It’s great to see you—and Liam too.” Cory turned to his friend. “Look at you, in that chair. I’m surprised your mom let you come, and your brother.”
Liam grinned. “Finn’s got the sense God gave a fireplug. I asked my mom to call your mom. She’s cool with you.”
Liam looked around and sighed. “Miss this, though. The gravy train.”
“One day, maybe. We’ve got plenty of room.” Mr. Muiller raised his bottle. “You never know, Liam. Things happen.”
“Yeah, they do.” Liam’s eyes fell on his damaged leg. “And I will be back. I’ll be out of this chair in no time.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over them. The pool filter gurgled until Cory’s mom turned to Mr. Muiller. “You and Deb are so kind.”
Liam whispered, “Long as you can run for touchdowns.”
Cory’s mom frowned, looked like she was going to say something, and then sucked on her lower lip.
Mr. Muiller cleared his throat and excused himself. “I’ll get some burgers on that grill for you boys. There’ll be more on the way if I know Jimbo. Probably asked the whole team over, and it’s a good day for the pool.”
They watched him go inside before Cory asked, “Why’d you say that?”
“What?” Liam glared at him.
“About liking you as long as you can score touchdowns.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Liam angled his head toward the house. “That’s what it’s about.”
“It’s about an education, Liam.” Cory’s mom spoke gently.
“To you and Cory it might be.” Liam snorted. “Not to them. Not to me. I’m not gonna be a lawyer.”
“You don’t want to get on their bad side, Liam.” Cory lowered his voice. He thought about their plan for Liam to get one of the scholarships HBS offered going into ninth grade. “Not if you’re gonna come back.”
“Do you not want to be here now, Liam?” Cory’s mom asked softly. “Is it too hard? I told you it might be.”
Liam laughed and waved a hand. “Naw, I’m good. Just sayin’ is all. Cory knows what I mean.”
Cory thought about how painful the past week had been and what Gant had said. “Yes, I do.”
“Guys like me and Cory, we’ve gotta be superstars on the field to fit into a place like this.” Liam waved his hand around.
Cory wanted to change the subject. “You know, I almost called you this week, Mom.”
“You should have. Cory, I told you, any time.”
“Yeah, it was a tough week. I got hurt.”
Her eyes widened with alarm; no one had told her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it was my ankle. Just a sprain, but it made things . . .” Cory was going to say “tough,” but given Liam’s condition, that didn’t sound right. “You know, everything’s new. New kids. Teachers. Coaches. And everyone here knows each other already. So, just a little lonely.”
“Then why didn’t you call?” his mom asked.
He shrugged, wishing he hadn’t gone down this path. “I’m not a baby, Mom.”
“Hey.” Liam came to the rescue. “How �
��bout those Saints curtains in your bedroom? You gotta be loving that. Haha.”
Cory rolled his eyes. “Right division, wrong team. I figured you’re color-blind and just didn’t know gold from red.”
“No, I got the right team. The 2009 Super Bowl champions, remember?”
“I was too young to really remember. So were you, if you’re being honest!” Cory said.
Liam was laughing now, that familiar sound, funny enough in itself to make Cory and his mom join in. The sound of the three of them like that made Cory feel even more lonely. It was like old times, but he felt certain that it couldn’t last.
48
Mr. Muiller came outside with a platter piled high with raw burgers. “All right, here we go.”
Cory’s mom left her spot behind Liam’s chair. “How can I help here?”
“You can let Helga make you a drink while you sit and relax. You’re our guest.” Mr. Muiller pointed a long spatula at the table beneath the enormous green umbrella. Turning away, he flipped the hamburger patties onto the grill.
Cory felt a spark of pride. Mr. Muiller treated his mom like she was still as important as she’d been two weeks ago. Maybe he’d been wrong in worrying so much about things not working out. Maybe Coach McMahan’s assessment of him would carry him through sixth-grade football no matter what happened with injuries or coaching or locker room antics.
“I’d love a lemonade,” Cory’s mom said. Liam wheeled alongside her at the table. “Liam? Cory?”
“I was thinking of Helga mixing you something stronger, Ashley,” Mr. Muiller said, “but there are cans of lemonade and sodas for the boys in the cooler.”
“I’ll get them.” Cory dug two grape Fantas and a lemonade out of the ice. He sat down with Liam and his mom, cracking open the cans. She wanted to hear about everything—his teachers, his classes, his teammates. Cory told her a nice story, keeping everything upbeat. He was grateful when Gant and Parker appeared with Jimbo, making things seem as normal as Cory had described them.
“Hey, bro.” Gant bumped fists with Cory before doing the same with Liam. “Hey.” Nodding at Liam’s knee, he asked, “How you doin’?”
“I’m doin’.” Liam sipped his soda. “They already said at the hospital they can see I’m a fast healer. I’ll be outta this chair in no time.”
“Look.” Gant held out his hand, where two jumping beans wriggled and squirmed. “Mexican jumping beans. I won them at the fair. I had three, but . . .”
“That second one lived?” Cory asked.
Gant smiled that big smile. “I told you. It was just sleepin’. Now it’s back.”
Gant turned to Cory’s mom. “He said we were like these beans.”
“What?” Cory’s mom chuckled. She wore a puzzled look. “Why?”
“Valuable property,” Cory blurted out, not wanting his mom to hear anything depressing about being trapped and desperately squirming. “Those beans are a hit, right, Gant? Like us. How about a burger, Gant?”
That worked.
Gant pocketed the beans and sniffed the air. “There’s burgers, and then there’s burgers, and I smell burgers.”
They watched Gant cross the terrace and pick up a plate before standing patiently beside Mr. Muiller in a wreath of smoke to watch the food cook.
More kids from the team soon showed up. Although only Parker, Garrison, and Gant were super friendly to Cory and Liam, the others were at least cordial. Everyone was polite to Cory’s mom. He wondered how Mike Chester would have acted, but he didn’t show. It was as if a spell had been lifted.
49
Mr. Muiller worked away at his grill with Helga doing cleanup as the team scarfed down burger after thick burger buried in cheese and ketchup. The laughter and shouts of nearly two dozen boys in a pool filled the afternoon as Cory and Liam traded chat and insults and his mom soaked up the sunshine in a lounge chair.
Liam wheeled his chair over to the edge of the terrace and then back to where Cory and his mom sat. “That’s some clean pool, right?”
“Compared to Burnett Park it sure is,” Cory said.
Liam laughed, then softly punched Cory’s shoulder. “You can swim with your guys, you know. I’d swim if my knee wasn’t busted.”
“I know,” Cory said. “But I’m fine here with you guys.”
When the sun began to dip toward the treetops and their teammates began to drift away. Cory, his mom, Liam, Jimbo, and Parker were sitting around the table when Mrs. Muiller appeared with Cheyenne and the two friends Cory had seen in their underwear. Jimbo’s mom already had a lime drink in hand and she made a beeline for her husband, complaining loudly about the girls’ soccer coach.
“Hi, Ms. Marco,” Cheyenne said, ignoring her mother and shaking hands with Cory’s mom. “These are my friends Tiffanae Litaker and Tami Lynn. The two Ts.”
The girls said hello, giggled, and then headed for the grill.
“Are you going to stay for the fire, Ms. Marco?” Cheyenne asked.
“Fire?” Cory’s mom raised her eyebrows.
“We have a fire pit on the other side of that hedge. It’s fun when the stars come out. It’s just a few of us, but you’re welcome. Tami plays the guitar. Cory, you’ll love it.”
“Sounds more like a kids’ thing,” Cory’s mom said, “but thank you for the offer, Cheyenne. You’re as polite as your brother.”
“Oh, him.” Cheyenne rolled her eyes, then laughed and followed her friends.
“Cory, why are you blushing?” His mom wore a mischievous smile.
“She got him, Ms. Marco.” Liam nodded at Cheyenne’s long, brown legs walking away. “He fell for her. I see that. Everyone falls for her.”
“You too, Liam?” Cory’s mom asked. “I knew about Cory already. I was just teasing him.”
“Not me, Ms. M.” Liam wore an unusually serious face. “Girls are for later.”
Cory opened his mouth to speak. He was going to say that it was Tiffanae and Tami he was embarrassed about, but then he’d have to explain what happened and why, and he didn’t want to give that story any legs, so he kept quiet. Besides, he reasoned that every guy was awestruck by Cheyenne. It was nothing to be ashamed of.
Cory’s mom looked at her watch. “Cory, are you coming home or are you staying for the fire?”
Cory hadn’t known about the fire. He’d expected to go home and spend a day with his mom before returning on Sunday evening, and after the week he’d had, he hadn’t thought of anything but getting home. Now, though, things didn’t seem so bad, and if Cheyenne was going to be there . . .
“I know Liam has to get back, but you don’t. I think you should stay.” Cory’s mom sounded like she was talking to a bill collector.
Cory studied her. “Really?”
She forced a smile. “I don’t see why not.”
“But we talked about watching a movie,” Cory said, even though that discussion seemed like another lifetime.
“Cory.” His mom sounded tired. “I understand if you want to be with your friends on a Saturday night.”
Cory’s insides tingled. He felt the pull of Cheyenne and knew how a meteorite must feel as it swerved toward the Earth. It was a free fall, thrilling and fast, but frightening, too.
As small as the decision seemed, Cory knew it was major.
50
Cory felt out of breath. “Nah. I’d rather see a movie with you.”
The instant the words left his mouth, he wished he could reel them back in. But the grin on his mother’s face could have lit a stadium, so he couldn’t take them back.
Her eyes grew moist and she reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “That is so nice.”
“Well . . .” Cory looked at Liam, who nodded with something that might have been envy.
They got up and thanked their hosts.
“No fire?” Mr. Muiller asked Cory.
“I told my mom I’d see a movie with her.”
“That makes sense,” Mr. Muiller said to Cory before turning to Cor
y’s mom. “Do you know what time you’ll drop him off tomorrow?”
“After dinner?”
“That’s fine. We may or may not be back from a visit to my folks, but if we’re not here, Cory knows the alarm code, right, Cory?”
Cory remembered and wanted to snort at the simplicity of it, but he only said, “Yes. Four four four four.”
Mr. Muiller walked them through the house and helped get Liam’s chair down the steps and into the trunk before tying it half-shut with a piece of twine. Liam sat sideways in the back with his leg across the seat. Cory’s mom tooted her horn as they pulled out of the circle and through the gates into the fading light.
“That’s some place.” Liam might have been talking to himself in the gloom.
Cory turned around in his seat. “You’ll be there one day. You heard Mr. Muiller, they’ve got plenty of room.”
Liam kept the faraway look in his eye and spoke dreamily. “Yeah, they do.”
It was silent the rest of the drive back. Liam’s mom met them at the curb of their apartment building and wheeled him off. Someone had broken the outside light above the entryway by the ramp, and the building swallowed them whole before Cory’s mom headed home.
“He’s going to get better, isn’t he?” Cory asked his mom.
She took a breath and nodded. “You know Liam, Cory. He’ll make it happen.”
Cory watched the dilapidated neighborhood go by as they drove. The little car rattled and banged over the broken pavement the city hadn’t fixed from the previous winter. “Bad things happen, Mom.”
His mom pulled over and stopped the car to stare at him. “Why would you say that? This whole HBS thing was your dream, and it came true.”
“Just . . .” Cory had so much built up inside him nothing could come out. “Forget it. It just seems like life is full of potholes, even when it looks smooth up ahead.”
His mom pulled him close and kissed the top of his head. “It’s not easy. Usually, it never is, Cory. But we’ve got each other. Even if we don’t see each other every day.”
Cory sighed and she drove them home.
