“What’s going on here?” he asked.
“Nothing, crip,” Hal said. “Beat it.”
Chris lunged forward and punched Hal in the side of the head. The football player staggered back, and before he could recover, Chris pushed him to the floor and jumped on top of him, raining repeated blows to the head and neck. Jimmy watched in shock. Hal recovered enough to land a hard blow to Chris’s mouth, causing the manager’s head to jerk back. Brian ran to the door.
“Fight!” he yelled.
In seconds Coach Bolton appeared in the doorway.
THE FOUR BOYS SAT SILENTLY IN COACH NIXON’S OFFICE. The head coach held the phone receiver against his right ear. Daddy stood in the corner of the room behind Jimmy with his hand on his shoulder. Chris, a trickle of blood still seeping from the corner of his mouth, stared straight ahead. Both of Hal’s eyes were beginning to swell shut, and he gingerly touched his left cheek. Brian tried to avoid eye contact with the head coach. Images of fists and blood bounced around inside Jimmy’s head. He stared at the blood coming from Chris’s mouth. Jimmy was breathing fast, and he felt dizzy. Coach Bolton stood beside Coach Nixon’s desk.
“As soon as the rest of the parents are here, let me know,” Coach Nixon said, hanging up the phone. He turned to the boys assembled in the room. “Everybody except Jimmy and his father go to the locker room with Coach Bolton and wait there.”
Hal, Chris, and Brian filed out behind Coach Bolton. As soon as the door closed, Coach Nixon looked at Daddy.
“We couldn’t get a straight answer out of him,” Coach Nixon said. “He was so upset that nothing made sense.”
“Try again,” Daddy said. “It might help if I ask the questions.”
“Go ahead,” Coach Nixon said with a wave of his hand.
“What happened?” Daddy asked.
Jimmy opened his mouth, but all that came out was a stuttering, “Uh, uh, f-f-fight.”
The pace of his breathing increased.
“I know that,” Daddy said gently. “What caused the fight?”
Coach Nixon interrupted. “Lee, I think he’s hyperventilating.”
Jimmy’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell off the chair.
WHEN HE REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS, JIMMY WAS LYING ON A table in the training room where the players’ ankles were taped. The school trainer, Mr. Millsap, stood beside him. Daddy held his right hand. Jimmy tried to sit up.
“Not so fast,” Mr. Millsap said. “Rest for a minute.”
Jimmy turned his head to the side. No one else was in the room. He closed his eyes. His breathing seemed normal again. He heard a door open and shut. There were voices in the locker room. He opened his eyes.
“I feel better,” he said.
“Okay, sit up slowly,” Mr. Millsap said.
Jimmy sat up and moved to the edge of the table. “What happened?” he asked.
“You fainted,” Daddy replied.
“Like after the wreck?”
“Not nearly so serious. You started breathing too fast and passed out.”
“Can you stand up?” Mr. Millsap asked.
“Yes, sir.”
Mr. Millsap smiled. “He’s better. His manners are back.”
Jimmy stood to his feet.
“Dizzy?” Mr. Millsap asked.
“No, sir.”
“Let’s go home,” Daddy said.
MAMA HAD SUPPER ON THE STOVE WHEN THEY WALKED INTO the kitchen.
“Why are you so late?” she asked.
“There was a fight in the locker room,” Daddy replied. “And Jimmy saw it.”
Mama quickly stepped over to Jimmy and put her hands on the sides of his face.
“He looks pale.”
“He hyperventilated and passed out,” Daddy continued. “He was woozy for a few minutes, but he’s fine now.”
“What happened?” Mama asked.
“I’m not sure. Coach Nixon promised to call me this evening and let me know what he found out.”
“Did anyone hit Jimmy?”
“No.”
“What did Jimmy tell you about it?”
“Nothing yet. He was too upset to talk at the school. One of the boys was bleeding from a cut to the mouth, and another had bruises around his eyes. It was a traumatic thing for Jimmy to see. I thought it would be better to let him calm down before asking him any questions.”
Mama hugged Jimmy tightly.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Do you want to go upstairs and lie down?”
Jimmy peeked around Mama’s head and looked at the stove.
“No, ma’am. I’m kind of hungry. What’s for supper?”
MAMA ANXIOUSLY WATCHED JIMMY EAT THE BAKED CHICKEN. It was covered with tan-colored gravy and so tender that he could easily pull the meat away from the bone with his fork. He dipped each bite in the gravy. Each mouthful made him feel better. Carrots and lima beans occupied the other half of his plate. Mama had baked soft yeast rolls.
“Do you feel better?” Mama asked as he cornered the final bite.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The phone rang, and Daddy answered it.
“Yes, Coach,” he said. “I can talk. We just finished supper.”
Jimmy started to leave the table, but Mama put her hand on her arm and shook her head.
“Stay in case Daddy has a question to ask you.”
“May I have another piece of bread?” Jimmy asked.
Mama placed another roll on his plate. Jimmy cut a hole in it and dropped in a pat of butter that melted into the hot bread. He turned the roll on its end and repeated the process.
Daddy was listening, not talking. Finally, he spoke.
“Are the police going to get involved?”
He nodded his head as Coach Nixon responded.
“What do you think Jimmy should do?”
There was another moment of silence.
“I agree. Thanks for calling.”
Daddy hung up the phone and returned to the kitchen table.
“They’re going to handle punishment of Chris Meadows and Hal Sharpton as an internal matter. It was a serious fight with injuries, but none of the parents wanted to press criminal charges. Both boys are suspended from the team for at least four weeks.”
“What about Brian Brown?” Mama asked.
“No punishment. He was in the room but not involved in the fight.”
“What does suspended mean?” Jimmy asked.
“Hal can’t play, and Chris won’t be on the sidelines as manager.”
“Max can play quarterback,” Jimmy said confidently. “He threw a long pass to—”
“What caused the fight?” Mama interrupted.
“Hal made a negative comment about Chris’s deformed leg.”
“Oh, I hate that kind of thing,” Mama said.
“Chris can’t run, and it makes him mad when someone makes fun of him,” Jimmy explained.
“Mad enough to fracture one of Hal’s cheekbones. Chris may lose a tooth, so there was plenty of damage on both sides.”
“And Jimmy saw all this?” Mama asked.
“He was there when it started,” Daddy said, “but it was just a coincidence.”
“Hal and Brian were being mean to me,” Jimmy added.
“How?” Daddy asked.
“They wanted to know who I’d told about the snake man.”
Mama and Daddy exchanged a look.
“Snake man? Do you think it could be another name for Jake Garner?” Mama asked.
“Maybe,” Daddy answered. “But why would Jimmy be talking about Garner? It’s been a long time since that trial.”
“Jimmy saw him at the courthouse when Garner tried to get you to represent him,” Mama responded. “He’s always wanted to see the rest of the tattoo on Garner’s arm. Isn’t that right, dear?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“But why were you talking about him with the other boys?” Daddy asked Jimmy.
“They know him too,” Jimmy said. “But t
hey didn’t call him Jake Garner. He was just the snake man.”
Daddy was silent for a moment. “It could be somebody else.”
Mama tossed her head to the side. “How likely is that? You got Garner off, and now he’s selling drugs to young people at the high school! I never felt comfortable about that case.”
“Don’t try to argue constitutional law with me. Protection of Garner’s rights is protection for us all.” Daddy looked at Jimmy. “Did they say anything about drugs?”
“No, sir, only a book about the Dake County game.”
“There’s no problem with that as a topic of conversation,” Daddy replied, looking at Mama. “The players have to have the playbook memorized from cover to cover.”
“Why would Garner be interested in the playbook? Should he be protected now if he’s doing something illegal?”
“No.”
“Then why don’t you report him to the sheriff’s department?”
“What do I tell them? That Jimmy thinks Garner has a nickname and has been talking to high school students about the playbook? Probable cause requires more than an unsubstantiated suspicion about an unidentified person.”
Daddy turned to Jimmy. “If you hear anything else about this, let me know.”
“About what?”
“The snake man.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But for goodness’ sake, don’t talk to anyone except us,” Mama quickly added. “I don’t want anyone to hit you.”
“No, ma’am.”
— Thirty-three —
With ten minutes left in the fourth quarter and Cattaloochie County comfortably leading Dake County by twenty-one points, Coach Nixon inserted Pete Gambrell into the game as a substitute defensive back. Pete tripped and fell while covering a Dake County wide receiver, and the Rams scored a touchdown. After the kickoff, Brian Brown threw an interception on a screen pass that resulted in another Dake County score. Jimmy watched Coach Bolton throw his clipboard so hard against the ground that it stuck up like a knife.
“Cochran!” Coach Nixon yelled.
Max, who had been allowed to dress out for the game, trotted up with a uniform as clean as when his mother took it from the clothes dryer.
“Do you think you can take a hike from the center and kneel down?” Coach Nixon asked in a spray of saliva.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then do it to run out some clock, and we’ll see if our defense can win this game.”
Jimmy watched proudly as Max ran onto the field. He took the snap from the center and quickly dropped to one knee.
“No, Max, throw it!” Jimmy yelled.
After a repeat of the first play, Jimmy ran over to Coach Nixon, who was surrounded by the assistant coaches. Jimmy weaved his way through.
“Why doesn’t Max throw a pass?” he asked.
Not immediately aware of the source of the question, Coach Nixon glanced around.
“He’s a good passer,” Jimmy said.
“He’s doing what I told him to do,” the coach replied.
“Get back to the drink table,” Coach Bolton added.
Jimmy returned to the table where cups of water waited in neat rows for players who wanted a drink.
With Chris suspended from the team, Jimmy’s job duties had increased. He also had to keep a supply of towels ready for the players. Max appeared and grabbed a drink.
“Why didn’t you pass the ball to number eighty-one?” Jimmy asked.
“I have to do what Coach Nixon says,” Max answered. “If I don’t follow instructions, I’ll never get another chance to play.”
“But you can throw a touchdown pass. I know it!”
“Tell Coach Nixon,” Max replied with a smile.
“I tried.”
There was a collective groan from the Cattaloochie County fans. Jimmy looked up as a Rams player celebrated a touchdown in the end zone. An offensive lineman came up to Max.
“Come on, Cochran. The coaches want to see you.”
The extra point, never a given in high school football, was good. With slightly over two minutes left in the game, the score was tied. Max ran onto the field with the first-team offense. All the players were standing along the sideline, and Jimmy couldn’t see what was happening. He looked up into the stands to the place where Mama and Daddy were sitting. Daddy was watching the game, but Mama caught his eye, waved, and put her hands together in prayer. Jimmy put his hands together and waved back.
The crowd roared, and Jimmy saw a pile of players roll into the Cattaloochie sideline. Players had to jump out of the way. At the bottom of the pile, Jimmy saw Max get up and hand the ball to one of the stripe-shirted officials. Jimmy stepped closer. One of the linebackers spoke to another player.
“Cochran has quick feet. I thought he was going to be sacked, but he gained over ten yards.”
“We’re not going to make it to the end zone by running,” the other player responded. “He’s going to have to air it out.”
Next to the drink table was a green plastic chair used by the trainers when taping the players’ ankles and wrists. Jimmy stepped up onto the seat. He could see the field.
Max was behind the center. The ball was snapped, and Max retreated to pass. Everyone was running so fast that Jimmy couldn’t take it all in. He focused all his attention on Max, who was looking downfield. Max stepped to the side to avoid a tackle and threw the ball. Jimmy watched as it gracefully arced through the air. A Cattaloochie player caught the ball, and Jimmy let out a cheer. However, the stands behind him were quiet. The referee brought the ball back to the same place.
“He was out of bounds when he caught it,” one of the players on the sideline said.
The team ran another play, an incomplete pass. On third down, Max was tackled in the backfield, causing a big celebration by the Dake County players. Coach Nixon signaled for a time-out. Max ran over to the sideline and huddled with the coaches. Jimmy couldn’t hear what they were saying or see Max’s face. He glanced back at Mama. She made a downward motion with her hands that he didn’t understand. The referee blew his whistle, and Max ran onto the field.
The ball was snapped, and Max got ready to pass. A Dake County player jumped up in front of him and then came forward on top of him. Max disappeared from Jimmy’s view for a second then reappeared, still on his feet. He started running and went out of bounds beyond the man holding the pole on the sidelines. Jimmy knew getting past the pole was important. Jimmy looked up at the game clock on the scoreboard. It showed thirty seconds remaining. It was first down.
Lined up near the Cattaloochie team was number eighty-one. The ball was snapped, and number eighty-one ran straight down the field. Max took three steps back and threw the ball toward the end zone. Jimmy watched in amazement as the path of the ball and the streaking player came together. The receiver caught the ball and ran into the end zone. Jimmy yelled and jumped off the chair. The linebacker yelled and hugged the player next to him. He then picked Jimmy up and put him down.
The extra-point attempt failed. Cattaloochie County kicked off and tackled the Dake County player who caught the ball. On the next play, a pass was intercepted. Everybody on the Cattaloochie sideline yelled again, but it wasn’t very exciting to Jimmy. Max ran back onto the field, and Jimmy hoped for another touchdown. However, Max took the snap and touched his knee to the ground. The horn on top of the scoreboard sounded. The game was over.
Suddenly, the players started wanting drinks. Jimmy scrambled to keep cups on the table. Players dropped empty cups on the ground, but Jimmy was too busy to write down their jersey numbers. As quickly as they’d come, the players left and began walking toward the locker room. Jimmy started gathering up trash.
“Hey, son!” Mama called out. “You’re doing a great job!”
Mama and Daddy were on the bottom row of the stands leaning against the railing. Jimmy looked up and waved.
“Yes, he is,” Coach Bolton added as he walked past Jimmy and patted him on the back. “It�
��s a good thing we took your advice and let Max Cochran throw the football.”
“Yes, sir.”
Coach Bolton waved toward Daddy and continued toward the locker room.
“We’ll wait for you near the concession stand,” Daddy said to Jimmy.
“Yes, sir.”
By the time he finished cleaning up, Jimmy was the last person on the sidelines. The fans had moved from the stadium to the parking lot, which was a sea of red taillights. A lot of drivers were honking their car horns. Jimmy could hear victory shouts from students hanging out car windows. When the last piece of paper and scrap of tape had been collected, Jimmy dragged the trash bags to a large trash container behind the visitor stands. He heaved the bags into the container.
Someone turned off the field lights as he began walking toward the Cattaloochie side of the stadium. It was dark as he trudged toward the locker room. More sounds of victory reached his ears when he pulled open the locker room doors. Inside, most of the players were putting on street clothes. Max, a huge smile on his face, was receiving congratulations from everyone who passed by. Jimmy started toward him, but several players cut him off.
“Mitchell!” Coach Bolton called out. “Gather up the game balls and put them in the storage room. When you finish, put all the supplies back in the training closet.”
Six weeks before, Jimmy would have been overwhelmed by such an order. Now he didn’t give it a second thought. It took three trips to retrieve the balls from various corners of the room and put them in a mesh bin in the storage room. Collecting the training supplies took longer, and by the time he finished, the locker room was almost empty. Coach Bolton came out of his office with a small bag of trash.
“Take this to the trash bin. There’s food it in that will smell if I don’t get it out of here tonight.”
“It’s dark, and the lights are off,” Jimmy said.
“Your eyes will adjust.”
The coach dropped the bag in front of Jimmy and didn’t wait for a reply. Jimmy picked it up and retraced his steps down the hill and across the dark field. Most of the cars had left the parking lot, and Jimmy could see the stars. The bag of trash swished against Jimmy’s leg as he walked. He reached the opposite side of the field and went behind the stands. The aluminum stands hid the sky, and the space beneath them was dark and shadowy. The trash container loomed as a long black shape before him. The bag was small enough that he could push it through an opening in the side. He turned to go.
Jimmy Page 38
