by Tim Green
Cupcake’s enormous head looked like it had been shoehorned into his helmet. His eyes were bright as stars as he banged his facemask against Danny’s. “This is just the beginning! It’s all beef today! It’s a beef bonanza!”
And it was.
Danny ran for 243 yards and scored five touchdowns by the fourth quarter, when the backup players went into the game to run out the clock. As he jogged off the field, the crowd stood up to cheer. Danny pumped a fist in the air. Coach Kinen gave him a hug and patted his helmet. Danny put his helmet on the bench and got a drink as teammates fist-bumped and high-fived him.
Up in the stands, his mom and Janey waved down at him, both of them beaming with pride. Danny felt his own cheeks flush with pride and he tried not to be obvious as he searched the crowd for his counselor.
He was glad, when he spotted Mr. C, that it didn’t bother Danny to see him sitting beside Ms. Rait. It was a good thing, actually. He felt certain that after what they’d seen today, things would be very different.
After the game Danny’s mom took him and Janey to the Pecos Diner on the edge of town. The gravel lot was filled with pickup trucks and SUVs, and as they entered, a wild applause broke out. When Luann, the owner, spotted them, her face brightened and she showed them right to a corner booth that had just been cleaned off. Luann wore her bleached-blonde hair stacked up high. She was a heavyset older woman with thick makeup and a deep southern accent.
“Everyone’s talking about the game,” she said, handing out menus. “I’m sorry I missed it. You’re the touchdown king, right? Just like your dad, they’re sayin’. Oh, I’m sorry, kiddo . . .”
Danny just pretended not to hear the last part and answered, “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Five touchdowns.” Danny’s mom swept a hand across his hair.
“You sent those rich kids right back to where they came from. That’s what I like.” The owner splayed bright red fingernails across her chest. “You all have your supper and then I want each of you to have a piece of pie on the house. That’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You might like the banana cream. I made that this mornin’ myself.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And manners too.” Luann raised her painted eyebrows before winking at Janey. “You hang on to this boy is what you do.”
Janey blushed and cast her eyes on the menu. “Uh-huh.”
“Shirley!” the owner yelled, drawing everyone’s attention and startling a young waitress in a brown dress uniform. “You come take these folks’ order. We got us a football star here. And bring a fresh bottle of ketchup.”
Danny heard murmurs of approval around the diner and felt equal measures of pride and embarrassment. He kept his chin up, but he didn’t look around at anyone. Their supper came promptly. Danny had a heaping plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, which he quickly devoured. After the pie, his eyes began to droop.
“Now we’ll get you home for a nice bath and a good night’s sleep.” His mom yawned herself. “You earned it.”
“I wish,” Danny said.
“Why’s that?” his mom asked.
Danny pointed to the clock on the wall. “I got Ms. Rait at seven thirty.”
“Don’t fool with me, Danny.”
“I do. Tell her, Janey.”
Janey looked down again. “Yes, ma’am. He does.”
Danny’s mom sputtered and fumed. “I saw her at the game. You’re exhausted. You played your heart out.”
Danny had to admit that he was enjoying this. “She doesn’t care. That’s what she said.”
“But not like that,” Janey said. “She said it nice.”
“Not to me,” Danny said.
“You know, she’s sitting right over there.” Janey pointed toward the front. “I saw her and Mr. Crenshaw when we came in.”
Danny secretly stole a glance and saw the back of Ms. Rait’s head. “After she dropped you off at your house last night I swear she turned into a witch, said she didn’t care about football.”
“There’s no cause to say that,” Danny’s mom said sharply. “I’ll just talk to her on the way out. We’ll get it fixed.”
“I’m tellin’ ya.” Danny shook his head.
“She’s new here.” Danny’s mom raised a piece of pie on her fork. “She saw you play, all those yards, everyone standing to clap when you came off the field, and in here too. I’m sure she gets it now.”
She popped the pie into her mouth and gave him a wink.
Danny hoped it would be that easy, but he had serious doubts.
Danny’s mom asked Shirley for the bill, but instead they got the owner. “Your bill’s been paid, folks.”
“Please, I insist.” Danny’s mom had her wallet out.
“You can argue with Mr. Colchester,” Luann said, nodding her head toward an old farmer with glasses. She leaned close and lowered her voice. “He’s loaded, so I’d just take it.”
“Oh, Mr. Colchester.” Danny’s mom waved at the man. “Thank you, sir. That was unnecessary, but greatly appreciated.”
“Saw your boy tonight. Crushed Froston! His father’s son all right.” The old man grinned, showing off a crooked set of teeth.
“Thank you, sir.” Danny blushed and looked down at the tile floor.
He followed his mom blindly as they exited the restaurant and ended up looking into Mr. Crenshaw’s smiling face. Ms. Rait’s crutch stood propped up against the booth. On the table sat two empty ice cream sundae dishes and two cups of coffee next to the bill. Danny smiled uncomfortably.
“Ms. Rait,” his mom said, “you’re just the person I wanted to see.”
“Thank you,” said the teacher.
“I saw you at the game,” Danny’s mom said.
“Yes.” That was all Ms. Rait had to say, even though Danny’s mom seemed to be waiting for more, maybe some praise for Danny’s big game.
Danny’s mom chuckled. “I think Coach Kinen thinks Danny is a plow horse or something, right? I mean, Danny left, Danny right, Danny, Danny, Danny.”
“Yes, very exciting.” Ms. Rait took a sip of her coffee.
“So, he’s just worn completely out and I think the best thing is for him to get some rest, even though I know you two have plans. I’m sure you can make it up another time.” Danny’s mom grinned.
“No,” Ms. Rait said, wagging her head, “we really can’t. We have so much to do. I’m sure he can get through it, Mrs. Owens. He won’t have to move a muscle.”
“Look, I think what you’re doing is wonderful,” Danny’s mom said, “and very kind, but Danny’s just a kid, so I think this time it’s more important that he gets some rest.”
Ms. Rait took a deep breath. “Mrs. Owens? We had an agreement. I rushed here to scarf down dinner and I passed on a movie so I could work with Danny, so that’s what I’m expecting to do. Making exceptions is what got him into this mess.”
Danny’s mom gasped. “You’re questioning my judgment as a parent?”
“That’s not what I said.” Ms. Rait turned to Mr. Crenshaw for help, but he glanced at Danny and looked away.
“It’s what you said without saying it.” Danny’s mom was getting loud. “It’s what you implied.”
People at the other tables turned their heads.
“Please don’t raise your voice at me,” Ms. Rait said softly. “I’m trying to help here.”
Danny’s mom frowned. “You’re right. I know you mean well, but this isn’t how things work.”
“I agree.” Ms. Rait slid out of the booth and was up on her crutch in one swift movement. She removed some money from the pocket of her jeans and put it on top of the bill.
“Oh, I’ve got that.” Mr. Crenshaw quickly reached for his wallet.
Ms. Rait held up a hand. “Call me old fashioned, Bob, but I’m one of those people who likes to pull her own weight.”
Ms. Rait started toward the door before she stopped and turned. “There
are no free rides, Mrs. Owens. I hope you bring Danny at seven thirty.”
Then she was gone.
Mr. Crenshaw flew after her without a word.
“Unbelievable.” Danny’s mom watched them go. “Well, Danny, you were right about her. Come on, kids.”
Danny and Janey followed his mom. Janey’s face was bright red, and she kept her head down until they got in the car. Danny sat in front with his mom, and she looked at Janey in the rearview mirror as they pulled out of the parking lot. “I am sorry for all that, Janey. I never imagined she’d cause a scene. I don’t like scenes, do I, Danny?”
“No, ma’am.”
“No, I don’t.” His mom slowed as she approached the light in the center of town. She put on her blinker to turn.
“So, you’re not going to take him to Ms. Rait’s?” Janey asked in a quiet voice.
His mom made the turn and laughed, checking the mirror to catch Janey’s eye. “That’s funny. I like that.”
Danny’s mom put the radio on and no one said anything until they pulled into Janey’s driveway.
“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Owens, and the ride home, but I wasn’t trying to be funny. I think Danny should go to Ms. Rait’s. I think she’s right about reading being important.” Janey opened the car door and put one foot out. “I could even go with him again, if it would help.”
Danny’s mom twisted around. “Janey, that woman was downright rude.”
“But she was right, and she believes in what she’s saying.” Janey spoke excitedly. “I don’t think she meant to be rude.”
Danny was tired and sore from the game. He wanted to do just what his mom said, take a long bath, maybe watch some TV, and then go to sleep, but something in the tone of Janey’s voice made him think. And when he began to think, Mr. Crenshaw’s reaction began to bother him. Mr. Crenshaw stood up for him against the principal, and he didn’t hassle Danny for tossing the Yahtzee game or busting out of his office, either. Mr. Crenshaw was someone whose opinion Danny had to admit he cared about.
“Danny,” his mom said, “I know you don’t want to go . . . do you?”
And just like that, a decision that seemed quick and easy wasn’t anymore.
“No,” Danny said. “I don’t want to.”
“Good,” said his mom.
Janey looked like she’d been slapped in the face, and it made Danny think again that maybe he was making a mistake, but he was worn out, and if his mom was happy . . .
“Don’t worry, Janey. I’ll do twice as much tomorrow.”
“You think there’ll be a tomorrow?” Janey asked. “You heard Ms. Rait.”
“I’m sure that was her pride talking,” Danny’s mom said. “If she’s for real, she’s not going to punish Danny for something that’s not his fault. Good night, Janey.”
Janey got out of the car. “Good night, Mrs. Owens. Thanks again. See you tomorrow, Danny. Great game.” Janey closed the door and left with a wave.
“Bye.” Danny waved at Janey’s sad face through the window.
At home, Danny got directly into the bath.
“Can I get you a Pepsi?” his mom hollered from the kitchen.
“Yes, please!” Danny shouted through the bathroom door.
She brought in a cold can, holding a dish towel over her face.
Danny reached up and took it. “Got it, Mom. Thanks.”
“Happy?” She kept the towel pressed tight to her eyes.
“It was a great way to start the season.” Danny took a slug of soda and burped.
“Yes, it was.” His mom felt for the door and backed out of the room. “I know you’re gonna do it, Danny. You were just great, that’s all.
“Hey, how about Mr. Colchester buying our dinner?” she added.
“And us getting a booth the minute we walk in?” Danny set the Pepsi can on the edge of the tub. “It’s only the beginning, Mom. I’m gonna buy you a white Range Rover.”
“White?”
“Yeah, you look good in white, Mom.”
She laughed, making a light and airy sound. “Danny, I watched you today and it was like I was seeing your father. . . . You know he would’ve been so, so proud of you, don’t you?”
“Shut up,” Danny screamed. His heart pounding, he grabbed the can of soda and fired it at the tiled wall. The thin aluminum burst open like a grape, spraying the brown soda everywhere.
Danny’s mom yelped and jumped back, dropping the towel.
“Mom, get out!” Danny bellowed. “Just get out!”
His mom backed into the hall, let out a gut-wrenching sob, and disappeared.
Danny sat in the tub, shaken to the core. When he realized the bathwater had become slimy and cold, he toweled off and attacked the mess in a businesslike manner. He cleaned the walls, floor, and mirror with a damp washcloth. Then he brushed his teeth and went straight to his room.
He turned the Xbox on and began to play Siege with strangers. Cupcake kept sending him invites, so he backed out and went into private mode so it looked to his friends like he’d gotten off-line. He found a group of four kids in Georgia and won several games with them before killing them all in the final round just as he’d done with his friends.
It felt good to kill them all, and he listened to them cursing him while he laughed gleefully, then shut down the Xbox. He lay on his bed with the lights on, staring at the airplane models hanging from their fishing lines. He wanted so badly to recapture the feeling he’d had after the game, when they’d cheered for him and when he walked into the diner, and especially when Mr. Colchester had bought their supper.
So he replayed the scenes in his mind, over and over, but instead of becoming clearer, the fog thickened. The harder he tried to regain the images and the feelings, the more distant they seemed. Finally, his thoughts turned to Ms. Rait’s disapproval, Mr. Crenshaw’s look, Janey’s obvious disappointment, and his mother’s pitiful sob. Those images trapped him like the tangle of sweaty sheets until he threw them off and jumped out of bed.
He dressed in sweatpants, a Steelers T-shirt, and sneakers before walking softly through the house. From the hall, he saw the light of his mother’s bedroom TV flickering through the cracked open door. Canned laughter from some late-night comedy made a muted noise. He guessed she’d gone to sleep, but he was sure to be quiet as he slipped out the back door.
At first he didn’t know where he was walking to, he just knew he needed to be out of bed, out of his house. After several minutes, he realized his feet were taking him to the creek. He dialed Janey but got no answer. Of course she was asleep.
He tramped along a cornfield, its bare stalks dry and rattling in a soft breeze. When he reached the woods, he used the flashlight on his phone to navigate the well-worn trail to the creek. He stopped and sat on a boulder beside the bank, and as he did, a half-moon emerged from behind a thick cloud. Soft white light danced across the broken stream. The light and the gurgling water made him think of a dream or some magical moment where an angel might appear to make everything right, but that didn’t happen.
He crossed the stream and found their tree. Carefully, he climbed up, using a combination of branches and spikes to reach the fort they’d hidden from view, at least until the leaves fell. He was breathing hard by the time he got inside and lay down on the floor.
Danny sighed and curled up on his side in a ball. He couldn’t help thinking about Bud in the story he’d been listening to, alone and cold and abandoned. That’s how Danny felt. Something wasn’t wrong; everything was. The moonlight suddenly disappeared. In the total darkness, he felt so alone and so miserable that he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. He lay there with only the gentle rustle of leaves and the sound of his own breath for company, too sad and too empty even for tears.
An angry squirrel woke Danny.
Braced on all four feet as if it were ready to jump from the empty windowsill, it flashed its tail and chattered at him, baring its long yellow front teeth.
“Oh, scat!” Danny faked a l
unge and the squirrel disappeared. “Stupid squirrel.”
His body ached, his head too, partly from a poor sleep on the plywood floor and partly from the game against Froston. He flung open the trapdoor and swung his legs into the opening, feeling for the last spike with his toes. Going down was easier only because of the dawn sky glowing through the leaves.
A bird or two called out, but nothing so serious as in the springtime, when they seemed to sing for their lives. A chipmunk ran across the path, scattering sticks and leaves as it dashed for the safety of its nest. When he reached the stream, he scolded himself for crossing in the dark at night. He could have gotten hurt, and that would’ve wrecked his football season more surely than Ms. Rait.
By the time he got to his back door, the sky in the east glowed pink and he hoped his mom was asleep. Quietly he slipped inside, took off his shoes, and tiptoed toward his bedroom. He wondered what he’d been thinking when he left the house like that. Now he was tired and sore and jittery at the thought of being caught. He had no idea how mad his mom was about him yelling at her, but he knew she’d freak out if she realized he’d been away all night. He suspected the punishment would be extreme.
Danny breathed a sigh of relief when he set foot inside his bedroom. He’d almost closed the door when someone thrust a hand into the crack. The door bounced open, and there stood his mother with her arms crossed.
“Danny, where have you been?”
Danny’s mouth sagged open. His stomach took a nosedive as his mom stared at him.
“I . . . took a walk.” Danny told himself that wasn’t a lie. “I was up really early. I heard some birds and I couldn’t get back to sleep.”
More truth.
His mom’s eyebrows loosened up and her scowl began to fade into concern. “Danny, what’s wrong?”
He shrugged. “What do you mean?”
Her eyes were like rays burning into him, but she spoke in little more than a whisper. “The soda can, yelling at me, up with the birds? You can talk to me, Danny. I’m your mother.”
