by Gregg Stutts
“Actually, I do. I’ve got a job to do, so whatever it is you want can wait,” Max said. “Actually, don’t wait at all. I can tell you right now, I have no interest in hearing anything you have to say. Not now. Not ever.”
Donnie wasted no time in catching up to Max and matched him step for step. “Must be nice, Max.”
“Yeah, what’s that, Donnie?”
“A job to do, Max. Must be nice to have a job to do.” He paused for a moment, then said, “I used to have a job to do. That is until you got involved. You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? You couldn’t leave well enough alone. You had to open your big mouth.”
Max kept walking and said nothing. If he could get inside quickly, he might not do anything he’d regret. Whatever Donnie had to say didn’t matter. He had to focus on the task at hand. And that was getting his team prepared for their final game of the season in three days. That’s what mattered.
Just steps from the door, Donnie jumped in front of Max and blocked his path. The two men stood a foot apart. Donnie’s jaw was clenched. His face was twitching. He was breathing hard. And Max knew Donnie was seeing the same thing.
Max moved to step around him, but Donnie blocked him again. In a split-second, Max sized him up. Donnie was a couple inches taller and a few years older, but clearly kept himself in good shape. He still had the body of a tight end, the position he’d played at Northern Arkansas State.
If it came to a fight, it could go either way. He took down Alex Collins outside the restaurant in Missouri because he had the element of surprise on his side. Alex was bigger and stronger, but he’d caught him off guard and drove his forearm straight into his nose followed by the sickening sound of breaking bone. But the worst part was the sound of his skull thudding against the pavement. He was afraid he had killed him.
Max tried again to get around Donnie, but he blocked him for the third time. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get out of my way,” Max said.
Donnie smirked and was also sizing up Max. “If I know what’s good for me?” Donnie said. “That sounds like a threat, Max.” Donnie didn’t blink. “Are you threatening me?”
Max clenched his right fist tightly while deciding where his first punch should land. A hard, quick blow to the stomach would double him over, then Max could deliver an uppercut and hopefully break Donnie’s nose like he’d done to Alex.
He caught a glimpse of Donnie’s right hand, which was also balled in a fist. He was also calculating his first blow. And then in the split second before Max was going to drive his fist into Donnie’s mid-section, Donnie stepped aside and mockingly waved Max through.
He shoved his way past, glad it hadn’t come to blows, but also sorry it hadn’t. He unlocked the door to the field house and right before the door shut behind him, Donnie said, “Watch your back, Max, watch your back.”
Chapter 5
Fifteen minutes later, Max was done showering and changing into clean clothes. He wrote out the meeting agenda on the white board, then sat down and waited for his staff to arrive. It was 6:53. Yesterday at this time, he was happily married, or at least he thought he was, and he was feeling good about their chances against Bentonville.
Now he was married to a woman carrying another man’s baby. Michelle’s words as he walked out on her, “It could be yours,” were playing on an endless loop in his head.
Donnie black had threatened him. If it had been anyone else, he might have written it off as a bunch of tough talk. He didn’t get the feeling Donnie was just talking though. He had no doubt Donnie was the one who’d ordered Alex and Jerry to kill Dante. Maybe they were only supposed to scare him, but it was still on Donnie’s head. And he also had Jack killed. Max knew it would be wise to heed Donnie’s warning and actually watch his back.
Two months ago, he was trying to save his marriage, win enough games to make the playoffs and figure out why the police were covering up Dante’s car accident. And he’d done all three. Now, he wasn’t even sure his marriage was worth saving.
Pray. The word came out of nowhere. It was so clear, he looked to see if someone had come into the room and spoken it. And then just as clearly, he said aloud, “No.”
It was three minutes after seven. Where was his coaching staff? How could all ten guys be late? His phone buzzed. It was a text message from Bob Burns, the acting athletic director, who’d taken over after Bill Jackson was implicated in what was becoming known as “The Lakeside Conspiracy.” Bob was also the boys’ basketball coach.
The text said: “I need to see you in my office. Now.”
Max considered telling him it wasn’t a good time, but quickly scribbled a note to his assistant coaches and left it on the table. He told them he’d been called into a meeting and asked them to review the offensive game plan. He’d be back shortly.
On the walk across the parking lot, he considering calling Michelle and even pulled his phone out, but slid it phone back into his pocket as he opened the door to the athletic building. He wasn’t ready to talk to her.
He entered the athletic director’s waiting area where Bob’s assistant, who’d also been Bill Jackson’s assistant, was sitting. She glanced at him and said, “You can go in.”
He opened the door to Bob’s office and couldn’t believe who he saw.
Chapter 6
Bob sat behind his desk. Across from him sat four of Max’s assistant coaches. Six others were standing behind them. A few of them nodded to him. Most avoided making eye contact.
My wife betrays me and now my coaching staff.
Bob motioned to the one empty chair near his desk. “Have a seat, Max.”
“I wondered where you guys were,” Max said. “I guess I didn’t get the memo.” His attempt at lightening the mood didn’t work.
“Max, I thought you should know I’m conducting an investigation,” Bob said.
“An investigation?” Max said. “Into what?”
“Into you,” he said.
Max looked at each of his assistants, but they wouldn’t look at him. “What exactly are you investigating about me?”
“It’s simple. I’m looking into the entire situation involving Dante Jones.”
“What do you want to know?” Max said. “I’ve been totally up front.” He looked around the room again. “You guys know that.”
“Yes, well, here’s the thing, Max, as the head football coach at Lakeside High School, the buck stops with you,” Bob said. “You claim you didn’t know what was happening in your own program. Is that true?”
“As it relates to Dante’s mother accepting benefits from the university, yeah, I’m telling you I didn’t know anything about that,” Max said.
Bob slowly shook his head and turned to look out the window behind his desk. It really wasn’t much of a view. Just a small courtyard between the athletic offices and the administration building. It looked like someone needed to cut the grass, which was mainly a bunch of weeds. When he turned around, he said, “Do you really expect us to believe that, Max? Does that even remotely sound like a credible story to you? That you didn’t know what was happening right beneath your nose?”
Max relaxed his grip on the arms of the chair and made himself take slow, even breaths. “It’s the truth.”
“So you want us to believe that one of the hottest football prospects from the state of Alabama moves to our little town, enrolls in school, commits to play at Northern Arkansas State and you had absolutely no knowledge of any wrongdoings? Is that what you expect us to believe?” Bob said.
Max could feel his heart beating faster and the muscles in his arms and legs twitching. For the second time in the last thirty minutes and the third time in the last thirteen hours, his body’s “fight or flight” response was fully engaged. “You can believe whatever you want, Bob, but I’m telling you the truth. Ask these guys.”
“I have asked them,” Bob said. “It seems that not everyone here agrees with your version of the truth.”
“It’s
not my version of the truth,” Max said more loudly than he’d intended. “It is the truth. Period.”
“So you say,” Bob said as he swung his chair around to look out the window again.
Max studied each of his assistants and said, “What do you guys say? Do you think I knew?”
Bob swung his chair around and said, “Max, you leave me no choice. If you knew what was happening, then you’re a cheat. If you didn’t know, then…you’re incompetent. Either way, those aren’t the characteristics of a good head coach and leader of our youth. Wouldn’t you agree?”
It didn’t seem to be in his best interests to agree or disagree, so he said nothing. Bob stared at him, then said, “I’m going to let you stay on in your position as head coach. For now, anyway. Just know this isn’t over. I’m going to continue my investigation.” Max didn’t respond, so Bob said, “You can all go.”
No one spoke as they walked back to the field house. If he could, he’d fire every one of his assistant coaches and build a completely new staff. How could they respect him after a meeting like that? But since it wasn’t possible to fire them, he was stuck with ten guys he no longer trusted or wanted to work with. Or even look at.
Chapter 7
Max checked the time and blew his whistle to end practice. He called the team to circle up around him and take a knee. “Take your helmets off guys.” He waited for the sounds of eighty football helmets being unsnapped to stop, then said, “Three nights from now, we’re going over to Bentonville to play the #2 team in the state.” He looked around at each player and coach and then yelled, “And we’re not ready!”
All of the frustrations from the past twenty-four hours were coming out now. “That may have been the worst practice I’ve ever seen!” Max kicked the ground in front of him and narrowly missed the leg of his starting right guard. “And you’re not to blame! We are! Myself and this coaching staff!”
The surprised look on the faces of his players was matched only by the looks on the faces of each of the coaches. “You guys go get showered. Get a good night’s sleep and be ready to go to work tomorrow. We’ve got a lot to do and we’re almost out of time. I’ll promise you this—your coaches will be ready. Now go on.”
The players stood up and quietly made their way off the field. Some of the assistant coaches started to leave when Max yelled, “Coaches stay here!”
Once all the players left the field, Max said, “There’s no excuse for that practice today. And it starts with me. Yeah, the buck stops with me.” He looked at each man standing around him. A few were looking at him. Most were staring at the ground. “There will be a coach’s meeting in the morning. We’ll start at five o’clock.”
When they heard the time, all ten looked at him. Now he had their attention. “Yeah, that’s right, five o’clock. If you don’t want to be a part of this staff, then don’t show up in the morning. If you’re late, then you might as well not come in. I know how hard this season has been, but we can still help these kids accomplish something. So you’re either in or you’re out. It’s your choice. That’s all. I’ll see whoever is here in the morning.”
Max jogged off the field. None of his assistants said a word. He turned to look at them as he walked through the stadium gate toward the field house. They were still gathered at mid-field. He wondered how many of them would show in the morning. Maybe none of them would. And at the moment, he didn’t care one way or the other.
He left without saying anything else to the team. He drove straight to Feltner Brother’s, ordered his usual double-cheeseburger, onion rings and unsweetened tea. On his way to the motel, he munched on a few rings and drank half the tea.
He still hadn’t talked to Michelle. As he parked at the motel in front of his room, he pulled his phone out and saw there weren’t any more texts or calls from her. He was a little surprised and even disappointed, but then he hadn’t exactly encouraged any further interaction. He took a swallow of tea and called her. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hi, Max.” He could hear the excitement in her voice.
“Hey.” His tone was at the other end of the spectrum.
“How was practice?”
“It was fine. There’s a lot to do.”
“What time will you be home?” she asked. “I’ve got dinner ready.”
“I’m not coming home, Shelle. Didn’t I make that clear?”
There was silence, then she said, “I thought maybe we could talk.”
The thought of talking at the moment made him want to put his fist through the windshield. “And what is there to talk about, Shelle?”
“I know I screwed up. And I’m so sorry, Max. If I could do anything to change things, I would, but…”
He could hear she was starting to cry. “Shelle, there’s something I have to know. Were you ever going to tell me you had an affair? I mean, if you didn’t get pregnant, were you planning to tell me?”
“Yes,” she said, “I wanted to tell you. I should have. I was going to…”
“When?” he yelled. “We drove all the way home from New Jersey and we’ve been home for a month now…and you’ve said nothing. Not a single word. Were you waiting for me to ask?”
She was crying harder now. “I really wanted to, but I was ashamed. And things were going so well between us I was afraid to ruin it.”
“So if you hadn’t gotten pregnant…then what?”
“I don’t know. Please know that I’m sorry. I would do anything to undo this.” She was quiet for a moment. “But I can’t. All I can do now is ask you to forgive me…and I promise it’ll never happen again.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay? What does that mean? Okay, you forgive me? Okay, you believe me when I say this will never happen again?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Look, Shelle, I’ve got to go. I’ve got a lot to do for the Bentonville game.”
“So you’re not coming home?” she asked.
“Maybe we can talk on Saturday,” he said.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. He was about to hang up when Michelle said, “I have my first pre-natal appointment tomorrow.”
It was real. And it was like another punch to the gut. “I gotta go.” He hung up and slid the phone in his pocket. He opened the door and felt a blast of cold air. It felt ten degrees colder than when he’d left practice. As he got out of his truck, his phone buzzed.
It wasn’t Michelle calling him back. It was one of his assistants.
Chapter 8
Max ignored the call. Every one of his assistants was lucky to still have a job. Of course, maybe he was too, but that was another matter. They’d let his boss blindside him. Not one phone call. Not one text to give him a heads up. Now one of them wanted to talk to him? Well, he could wait.
He grabbed his dinner off the seat and went inside. It was one of the most depressing motel rooms he’d ever stayed in. The drapes looked like the originals from the seventies. The carpet was even worse. He couldn’t really even tell what color it was. The sink had a constant drip and a brown water stain around the drain. And the queen bed sagged in the middle and squeaked with the slightest movement. The room matched his mood. Tired. Worn out. Seen better days. Little hope of things changing.
He turned the TV and turned to ESPN. They were re-airing the interview with Donnie Black he heard that morning on the radio. After the meeting with Bob Burns and his coaches that morning, he’d forgotten all about the altercation with Donnie. That was probably unwise. He knew he had to take Donnie’s threats seriously.
He flipped past The Big Bang Theory and Seinfeld. He’d seen both episodes multiple times. He paused for a moment on a pre-election special. Two of the panelists were talking over each other. The moderator was trying to unsuccessfully gain control of the conversation, which wasn’t really a conversation at all.
He sometimes thought about running for office. Something had to be done about the federal debt. And terrorists who were gaining strength across the globe. An
d violence in urban areas. And the lack of an effective immigration policy. Strong leadership was needed in Lakeside as well. Some of the decisions coming from the city council concerned him, especially the new council president whose name he couldn’t remember. After a few minutes, he turned the television off and finished his meal in silence.
The condition of the world depressed him. It was a battle to tune out the never-ending stream of negative messages. It was a constant battle to focus on what was good. What was even good though? His marriage was in deep trouble again. His daughter was never coming back. Michelle was pregnant, but not with his baby.
And now his work was no better. Maybe it was worse. Making the playoffs hinged on beating one of the best teams in the state on Friday night. A loss could easily be the end of his job. Bob Burns was looking for any reason to fire him. And Donnie Black was unpredictable at best, dangerous at worst.
