by Tim Green
There were three rock tubs, one for each of them, within sight of their tree fort. Cupcake’s was the biggest, twice as wide as Danny’s, and Cupcake filled every inch of it. Janey stood beside it and chuckled. “Cupcake, I love that name. I love how he got it.”
Almost everyone in Crooked Creek knew that story. Cupcake’s real name was Eugene Wills. They were in third grade and just starting Pop Warner football. When Coach Hitchcock—a former marine—saw Eugene unsuccessfully try to defend himself against a blocker half his size, he went wild. The coach stood over Eugene, who pawed the air like a turtle on its back.
“I never seen a cupcake big as you in my entire life!” Coach Hitchcock hollered so that everyone, including Danny’s father and the other parents in the bleachers, heard him. “You gotta learn to hit someone, son, or you’re never going to be able to play this game.”
Back then, Eugene was a big blob of dough, and the name caught hold. The next day in school many of the kids jeered and called him Cupcake. The next night in practice, Eugene went berserk. Blubbery but intense, he steamrolled anyone who got in his way and then stood over their fallen bodies, red-faced and screaming, “That’s right! I’m a cupcake! How’s it feel to be crushed by a cupcake!”
Danny and Eugene had been friends even back then, and Danny was one of the few people who hadn’t called him Cupcake. After Eugene had pummeled their quarterback, he bent down over the smaller player’s crumpled form. “That’s a cupcake for you! How’d you like that cupcake?”
Danny had tried to calm his friend, and he pulled him aside. “They’re only kidding you, Eugene. Maybe lighten up.”
His friend had turned to him with blazing eyes. “Don’t call me Eugene. I’m Cupcake. Call me Cupcake.”
Danny grinned, remembering how the legend was born.
“Come on,” Janey said. “Let’s go swimming.” Janey stripped off her T-shirt and shorts, revealing a yellow bikini. She slid down into her own tub, the narrowest of the three, and laid her head back in the sluice so a fountain sprang up around her ponytail. “The water’s nice and cool from the rain.”
Danny stripped down to his boxers and lowered himself into his tub. The rock walls were smooth and soft with pale green algae. The water bubbled and swirled, and the sticky heat of the day was washed clean along with the grass clippings stuck to his legs.
Danny sighed and raised his voice above the babble of the water. “I could just stay here forever.”
Janey giggled. “Me too.”
After a time, he slid all the way down, slipping beneath the surface of the pool. Aside from the rush of swirling water, it was completely silent and dark. He turned thoughts over in his mind like smooth stones. He might have been the only person in the world, or an unborn baby in his mother’s stomach, or on the other end of the journey, not the beginning, but the end . . . His dad had reached the end.
The sudden image of his father staring at him shocked Danny and plunged a dagger of pain into his heart.
Paralyzed by the memory, he just hung there, his arms and head suspended in the water, until he convulsed and exploded from the pool, gasping for air.
“Hey!” Janey shouted. She was standing in the middle of her tub, the water racing around her. “You scared me. What were you doing under there? Hey! Where you going?”
Danny waded through the water until he reached the bank. He pulled on his clothes as he sucked air into his lungs. “I gotta get back home and get some dinner and get some sleep.”
“Why?” Janey asked as she sloshed across the creek. “What happened?”
Danny pulled the sweaty, grass-stained T-shirt over his head and grinned at her. “I got football tomorrow.”
She smiled. “That’s great, Danny.”
“Yeah, my dad wants me to . . . or, I mean, he would want me to.” He looked down to concentrate on tying his sneaker. He sniffed and tied the other one, sensing Janey’s presence right next to him. He stood and looked into her deep brown eyes.
She parted her lips, maybe to say something, but he was afraid she might try to kiss him, or that he might try to kiss her, and that scared him silent. He looked away to catch his breath before setting his mouth in a flat line and giving her a hardened look.
“I’m gonna do this for him,” he said. “I’m dedicating this season to my dad.”
The next day at practice it was clear to Danny that the eighth graders looked down on the seventh-grade players as youngsters who needed guidance and punishment. They were an intimidating bunch. One of the linemen, a big-bellied kid named Gabriel Stone, stood six feet tall and had to weigh north of 250. The kids called him Bug. In Danny’s group of backs was a big, strong running back with long blond Viking hair and a mean face named John Markle. In each drill, the eighth grader raced to the front of the line. When Danny beat him to the gauntlet machine, Markle shoved him rudely out of the way and burst into and out of the machine before Danny could even react.
The gauntlet was essentially a cage with dozens of rigid padded arms connected to tight metal springs. If you didn’t run full blast, the lower arms would trip you up and the upper arms would strip the ball from your hands. Danny recovered and went through it just as fast and easy as Markle had. The rest of the group struggled, but instead of sharing some camaraderie, Markle spit dangerously close to Danny’s brand-new cleats as they stood in line. Danny burned inside and made sure that at every other drill they did, he outdid not only Markle but every other back, too. Two hours into practice, Danny made it known that he was faster, stronger, and tougher than any of the skill position players.
The real rub with Markle came when Coach Kinen called for the first-team offense to line up on the ball. Eighth-grade boys quickly filled in each of the eleven spots. Danny stood back with the other younger players, but Cupcake shoved the monster, Gabriel, out of his spot at right tackle before stepping in. “Hey!” Gabriel yelled as he wheeled around in disbelief. Fists quickly began to fly.
Coach Kinen and his assistant, Coach Willard, pulled the two of them apart, but the coaches seemed pleased.
“I like your spirit, Eugene.”
“Call me Cupcake, Coach. That’s my name.” Cupcake didn’t seem to mind snarling at his coach.
Coach Kinen chuckled. “Okay, Cupcake. That’s funny. You play right guard and we’ll leave Gabriel at right tackle.”
“Okay.” Cupcake nodded and shoved the kid at the right guard spot out of his way.
That kid looked at Coach Kinen with disbelief. “Coach, this kid is a seventh grader.”
“And he’s bigger, tougher, and stronger than you, Thomas. He starts until he proves he can’t hold up.” Coach Kinen turned toward the rest of the team as Thomas walked in shame away from the starters. “This isn’t a social club! Just because you thought you had a job doesn’t mean you do. Coach Willard and I make those calls, and we do it to put the best team on the field so we can win!”
Coach Kinen stared around to see if anyone had anything to say about that before he shouted, “Markle! You’re the backbone of our defense at middle linebacker. And you’re the captain, you’re the glue that holds your group together—if you can lead them. Can you do that, Markle?”
“Yes, Coach,” he said sheepishly.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Coach,” Markle yelled.
“Good. Good. And I want Danny Owens with the ones on offense at running back.”
Markle looked like his head was ready to explode, but being named captain was a big deal, and he obviously knew better than to question Coach Kinen. But that didn’t keep him from giving Danny a hateful look.
Danny ignored it. He was thrilled with the opportunity, and he intended to live up to Coach Kinen’s faith in him.
Danny didn’t disappoint Coach Kinen or anyone else over the next two weeks. He ran around people. He ran over them. He ran through them. By the time double sessions were over, most of his teammates—even the eighth graders—treated him with the respect that was reserved for a
football team’s star player, the one everyone knew would be the difference between winning and losing.
There were a couple of eighth graders, though, who either weren’t convinced or, more likely, were too inflamed with jealousy to respect a seventh grader. It was the second-to-last practice before the first day of school when one of those boys made a very bad mistake.
Markle was rocking back and forth on his heels, clearly frustrated because now he was only starting on defense. On the last play of the team’s live scrimmage period, Danny ran a sweep out around Markle’s side.
The older boy tossed the tight end blocking him to the ground and took off at an angle to cut Danny off from the sideline. Danny poured on the speed, but he realized that he couldn’t evade the older boy, who was also quite fast. Danny dipped his head inside with a shoulder fake to make Markle hesitate. Markle didn’t buy it. He was willing to miss Danny entirely for the chance to hit him with every ounce of force he had. When the older boy launched himself at Danny, Danny jammed his hand, palm first, directly into Markle’s facemask.
Markle went down like a slaughtered cow.
Danny churned his legs, so even though Markle was able to grab an ankle, Danny burst free without a pause and raced up the sideline into the end zone. Everyone had seen Danny’s stiff-arm and Markle’s disgrace, and they hooted and jeered and laughed out loud. It seemed like the teammates enjoyed it even more because of Markle’s well-known bad feelings toward Danny.
Danny just blushed and smiled and jogged toward the sideline where Coach was having them line up for sprints. He fell in beside Cupcake when someone shoved him so hard he stumbled forward and toppled to the ground. Danny spun around to see Markle standing over him.
“You don’t facemask your own team!” Markle’s ugly face was red and pinched inside his helmet.
“Hey!” Cupcake bellowed, and charged the older boy.
Markle sidestepped Cupcake, threw a roundhouse punch into his gut, and shoved him into the dirt. Cupcake lay gasping for breath.
Danny was on his feet, and he opened his arms to diffuse the situation. “What’s wrong with you? I didn’t facemask you. That was a totally legal stiff-arm.”
“That’s bull.” Markle leaned his face toward Danny’s and jabbed a finger in his chest. “You cheat, maybe you get me, but you don’t beat me legal.”
“Whatever.” Danny turned away. Most of the team hadn’t seen the scuffle. They were lining up along the sideline and focused on surviving Coach Kinen’s running program.
“Don’t think you’re so special!” Markle called after him. “Cuz you’re not.”
Danny helped Cupcake to his feet, ignoring the older boy.
“And neither was your old man,” Markle sneered. “He was a freeloading fat-butt has-been.”
Danny’s vision blurred and went red. “Danny—” Cupcake reached for him, but Danny spun around and launched himself at Markle’s throat. He grabbed his mask, twisted it, and yanked his teammate to the ground with a war cry. Danny gripped the mask with both hands and shook and twisted until it came free. He flung it aside. The helmet flew through the air, and before it hit the ground Danny was pummeling Markle’s face.
Blowing his whistle, Coach Kinen came running and grabbed Danny by the shoulder pads. “Danny! Danny! Stop!”
Danny grabbed hold of Markle’s jersey and shoulder pad. With his left hand clamped down on the padding, Danny continued to pound his teammate’s face with his right hand. Even though Coach Kinen yanked Danny with all his might, he only dragged them both a few feet. Like a wasp, Danny had his adversary in a death grip and was stinging him repeatedly.
It took the two assistant coaches and Cupcake to finally pry Danny free. When they did, his mind cleared. He looked down at Markle and felt sick. The older boy’s nose and cheeks were bloody and swollen. His eyes were two slits in the bruised fruit of his face. Markle was unrecognizable.
“What’s wrong with you?” Coach Kinen screamed, staring and shaking his head. “What is wrong with you?”
Danny looked down at his swollen knuckles through teary eyes.
He had no idea what was wrong, only that he had lost his mind.
Crooked Creek rallied around its young football star. Word spread fast on social media and everyone agreed that John Markle had gotten what he was asking for, and certainly what he deserved. Janey and Cupcake kept Danny up to date, Janey by phone and Cupcake over the Xbox headset.
“Listen to this!”
“Cupcake, you’re shouting.” Danny turned down the headset volume.
“It’s Jace Akers, bro. Jace Akers posted, ‘Standing strong with my teammate Danny Owens, our seventh-grade stud RB. Respect.’ Bro, he said ‘respect.’”
“I know. You just read it.” Danny sounded casual, but his grin stretched wide.
Jace Akers was an eighth grader, their quarterback, and the offensive team captain. Jace’s girlfriend was a cheerleader and said to be the prettiest girl in the school. He’d always treated Danny nicely, but this was something different. At practice, the eighth graders still looked down on the seventh graders. Even guys like Danny and Cupcake, who were starters, got treated like unwanted relatives at best.
He made a mental note to thank Jace tomorrow at practice.
When it came time to shut down for the night, Danny briefly thought about Markle and his parents. Wait, parent. He was pretty sure Markle’s father had moved away a long time ago. He pushed the thought of Markle’s mom out of his head. What could she expect? With a kid like her son, she was probably used to fights and bloody noses.
He wandered out into the smoky living room. His mom had the TV on and a glass of strawberry vodka in her hand, which she nearly finished when she saw Danny.
“What’s up, kiddo?” She sat on the couch with her legs curled underneath her.
“Just saying good night.”
“So early?”
“Practice tomorrow is early. And then school starts the next day.”
“Yeah, I knew that,” she said, but he could tell by her expression that she hadn’t known.
“Mom?”
“Yup?”
Danny paused because he didn’t want this to come out wrong. “Maybe you should—I don’t know—see if you can’t find a job or something.”
Her face softened. “You don’t have to worry about money. This house is paid for and your father’s taken good care of us.”
Danny couldn’t keep his eyes off the glass in her hand. “It’s not the money; I just thought you might like to have something to keep your mind off of things. With me going to school now is all I was thinking.”
She smiled. “You’re one sweet boy, Danny. You always were. Even when you were a baby. No crying. No fussing. You’d just lay there and smile and burp. For a while there I thought there was something wrong with you.”
Danny knew she’d get mad if he said she was drinking too much. She always did when his dad said it. So instead he asked, “You okay?”
She waved him off. “Oh, I’m fine. As fine as I can be.”
Danny stood silently for a moment before he said, “I got in a fight today at practice.”
She grinned at him. “I heard all about it.”
“Mrs. Markle called you?” Danny felt a twinge of concern.
“Sweetheart, I heard about it almost before it happened. His mother’s keeping quiet, as she should. I’m proud of you. Everyone says he was asking for it.” She raised her glass in a toast before taking the last sip. “That’s the pride in you. You can’t help who you are.”
“Coach was mad.”
“He’ll get glad when you run through Froston at Thursday’s game. It’s Thursday, right?”
“Yes.” He suddenly felt like he should hug his mom, but that made him uncomfortable. He’d grown up with his dad telling him not to be soft. Boys, his father said many a time, needed to be grabbed by the neck, not smothered with kisses and hugs. But Danny remembered now the hug his father had given him on the hill, be
fore it happened. Maybe his father had been trying to tell him something?
The commercial on TV ended and his mom’s show came back on, drawing her attention back to the screen. The moment passed, and Danny went to bed.
When Danny got to practice early the next morning, he walked over to where Jace was warming up his arm with Jake Moreland. Jake was Jace’s best friend and the team’s number one receiver.
“Hey, Jace.”
“Hey, Danny.” Jace fired the ball at Jake, who caught it with a soft thud.
“I just wanted to say thanks for that post.”
“Yeah, well.” Jace snatched Jake’s return pass from the air. “Just don’t bloody my nose, okay?”
They both laughed and it felt good to Danny to be standing there with the team captain, sharing a joke.
“You know what they say, right?” Jace asked.
“No. What?”
“Man’s best friend is his dog, but a quarterback’s best friend is his runner. So I got your back.” Jace held the ball and flashed him a smile. “Even though you’re a snot-nosed seventh grader.”
They both laughed again and Danny felt his chest swell. He belonged there.
He felt good as he crawled beneath the sheets that night. He slept well and got up early, so he had plenty of time to comb his hair and check his appearance in the mirror. His mom liked to buy him nice things, dressing him up to look sharp in khakis and polo shirts.
Everyone knew everyone, but still, he was going to junior high, and there was some excitement in the air. He caught the bus and made room for Janey when she got on at her own stop. She wore a new dress, yellow with a white flower print. Her hair was the same, though. She wore no makeup and said she was grumpy because she’d slept poorly.
