by Sunniva Dee
“Liza’s terrible,” I mutter. “She tattles like a grade-schooler. ‘Moom!’”
My attempt at gaining time works for two seconds while he rocks on his feet. “She keeps no secrets from me. You goin’ or not? I’ll come with if you want.”
“Oh good idea. That’ll look clever, me bringing a babysitter,” I say, but this time Bear’s the only one laughing. “No thanks.”
“Well, you know what I’d do if I were you?”
“Chicken out and cry behind Liza’s skirts?”
“Shut up. No, I’d go because I’d be damn curious to see them after so many years. Plus, the only coward around here is you.”
“Oh I’m going, all right,” I surprise myself by saying. “I just don’t need your ugly ass along with me. Go home and sleep off your frat dream, dude, ’cause the missus shut that one down fast.”
It’s Thursday night, and I’ve inhaled my dinner leftovers. The playground’s darkening outside, but a few older kids are still there, playing. A text from Bear comes in. He tells me he’s talked with Coach and that he likes the idea of training us together. Gator walk-ons is the goal for me, he repeats. I don’t reply.
I call Keyon.
Dad’s feet shuffling in the hallway gets me up from the window nook. My call keeps ringing, and I make for the door before my father enters the living room.
I’m about to hang up when Keyon picks up. “Yep,” he half-barks, chattering in the background.
“Keyon, it’s me.”
“Oh. Hold on.” He shuffles the phone against his ear, and the sound of voices becomes more distant. I hop the two steps to the dirt and walk behind the prefab. The swing set has middle-school kids on it, so I can’t go there. I take the path into the woods.
“What’s the verdict?” Keyon is all business. “Sorry, had to get out of the building. My buddies.”
“At the gym?” I’m stalling on my decision.
The old concrete bunker where Bear and I played when we were younger emerges. I climb the external stairs and sidle out on the first ledge. I sit down. Let my feet hang out over dirty gray walls that are spray-painted with love declarations and curse words.
“Yep, at the Cage Warriors. So, you want directions to Markeston’s place?”
I inhale. Mom’s face after I almost drowned. I exhale.
“Cugs. Are you there?”
“Yeah. Directions would be good.”
When the seconds pass without a reply, I hold the phone out and look at it. A puff of air explodes from the speaker. “Geez. Well, that’s good news.”
Decisions. It’s strange how they make a person relax. There’s no going back now. Phone in hand, I reach high in the night sky and leap the short distance to the soft forest floor. And then, right then is when I whoop.
“I’ll be texting you the address and giving you some basic directions,” Keyon says once I’m back on the phone. “It’s pretty easy.”
“Good.”
“You haven’t messaged Paislee yet, have you?”
“No.”
“Okay, let’s do the surprise thing then. Eight p.m. Saturday. I’ll see you.”
“Not if I see you first,” I exclaim, because apparently my final decision hasn’t only provided me with relief. It has also erased brain cells.
Keyon quiets. Until he ends the conversation with, “Well. I believe I’ll be seeing you either way. Until Saturday.”
Bear’s arms are crossed in the door opening. “I mean have you been doing anything at all lately?”
“Of course I have. Running, playing ball on the playground—”
“Blah-blah. How about the field?”
“Let’s start up after the weekend,” I say even though Bear is stubborn and his mind is made up.
“No way. Coach is waiting, and he’s got a few freshmen ready to work us.”
I shove my feet into my cleats. “Fine. I’m doing it for you.”
“Oh the saint.” He rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m doing it for you.”
“You’d be booted off that hoity-toity team of yours,” I joke, “if you don’t stay in shape the rest of the summer.”
He nods rapidly, then slows the movement into a decisive headshake. “You tell yourself that, dude. You tell yourself that.”
The wreck is taking a breather again. If I don’t get the fuel filter replaced ASAP, it’ll be off to the graveyard. We’re in Bear’s ride when he asks, “Are you ready?”
I lean against the seat, eyes on the non-moving cypress and palmetto forest ahead of me. “For what?”
“Are you ready for the newbies? They’ve been dying to be us. Now they will be. But first, they get to be with us.”
“Oh geez, dude.” Bear knows how to stir stuff in me. Sometimes, he’s a total oratory genius. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
I hadn’t foreseen this. Coach is intense. Pink-faced and wrinkled from years, he pierces Bear and me with a passionate stare I’ve only seen during games. “Guys, I count on you. Do you have any idea what you’re capable of?”
“Yes, sir!” Bear barks like he’s in the army.
I fight the urge to grimace. “No, tell me.” Then I add, “Sir,” because there’s not a grownup I respect more than Coach. Scrawny and silver-haired, the man gave me a reason to get up in the morning for four years straight. He never wavered, never doubted. What he did was push, push, and get me where I… was when the warehouse happened.
“You. Are going to interact with fourteen kids.”
“Fourteen?” Bear repeats.
“Fourteen. I’ve staked them out from around here, and we’re doing a summer boot camp.”
“You didn’t offer us this when we started, right?” Bear says. “I would have remembered.”
“Right, because it’s new. And I’m doing it because of you guys.”
No, not because of us. Coach is doing it because of Bear, one of a handful Fortuna High graduates to move on to a Division-One college on a football scholarship.
“Listen.” Coach leans close the way he did during the most nerve-wracking half-time at the final in junior year. “I haven’t had an opportunity like this before, and I’m going to use it to everyone’s benefit. You.” He points at me. “McConnely, I want you with the Gators.”
I swallow.
“You, Smith. I want you as a starting linebacker by your second season. And the kids: I want them to want to play this game the right way from the get-go. I rely on you as their inspiration.”
“No pressure, huh?” Bear grins at Coach who leads the way onto the field.
“You’re used to pressure, but it’ll be quadrupled with the Gators. We’ve already talked about this. It merits repetition though: just because you’re in, they’re not gonna throw you a party up there and pat your back, ‘you-did-it-congrats.’ No, as soon as practice starts, the real pressure begins. You’ll be expected to perform like a puppet with just enough strings.”
“Just enough strings?” I repeat. The group of kids huddled together midfield appears small against the vast green. Coach doesn’t look at them while we narrow the distance.
“Yes, they want you to follow commands to perfection, but they also want you to surprise them and outdo their expectations. That’s how you’ll secure your position as a starter.”
We’re there. All eyes are on us. The kids are of varied height and build, but I instantly notice two. A small, wiry one with wild eyes trained on me. A large guy, as tall as my best friend, with a soft gaze and a gentle mouth. Bear and I exchange a look.
“Players: welcome to the Fortuna Caimans boot camp. Say hi to Charles George McConelly, the best wide receiver this county has seen in a decade, and John Jervonte Smith, linebacker and Gators recruit, whom you’ll see in the starting lineup by his second season.”
The kids mumble between them and fix their gazes on
us. Their silent awe should make me feel like an impostor, but Coach was never a ranker, and yet now he’s putting me first.
The small, wiry kid chucks the ball at me hard, and I catch on reflex. There’s a rumble of amusement in Coach’s throat. I wink at the dude and say, “Let’s play ball.”
The wreck gave me the perfect present yesterday by deciding to work again. Good thing too, because I don’t have credit for a car loan. With Nadine gone and Bear all over the place lately, I didn’t bother celebrating my birthday. I mean, it’s cool to finally be eighteen and all, but it means less now that I’m stuck in Newbark.
Each time I take the wreck out on an intercity trip, I worry that it’ll sputter and stop once and for all. I thought about taking the bus or the train to Tampa, but the tickets are expensive.
As I merge onto the highway, I consider my options if the wreck dies en route. Nadine has left for her Long Island visit with family. I don’t want to call Keyon, and at this point, it would be crazy awkward to message Paislee. I’d have to get a hold of Bear again, which would contradict my babysitting objection.
I’m still a little shaky from my run-in with Dad this morning. I lied up a birthday party at Nadine’s, but he wasn’t having it.
“Are you kidding me? Cugs, you can’t just ruin my plans for tonight. You think Toeffel and Oliver have a butt load of shoppers on their payroll?”
“It’s not payroll. If it were payroll, we’d receive the same amount every time, pay taxes, and I’d have a car that doesn’t break down every five minutes.”
“Payroll doesn’t mean that the pay has to be the same every time.”
“Well, I’m damn sure it doesn’t mean selling stuff to your employers, stuff they know is stolen, and them deciding what they want to pay for it. What did you get for that last batch of laptops again? Twenty bucks a piece?”
“Forty. Well, thirty-five, because of the scrapes on a few of them.”
My father isn’t a good negotiator. Pretty sure I’d be better at it than him, but I don’t want to try, because what’s it going to do, earn me another illegal job?
“Just come along, Cugs. We’ll get it done quickly, and then you can head to that party afterward. Bring a change of clothes with you. Heck, it’s right there in South Beach, so what’s the big deal?”
I couldn’t tell him South Beach is way off my path. “Gotta go. It starts early and ends late. I might sleep over,” I said and stalked out the door to the sound of his sharp inhale.
I couldn’t imagine driving to Tampa and back again tonight. I’d waste half the day in the car. I guess my plan is to spend time with my mother and sister?
Nerves prick down my spine—I wonder how they’ll react. They have no idea I’m coming, and yet in a few hours I’ll be there, right with them. Hopefully, I’ll be calmer by then.
My phone buzzes. “Cugs?”
“Keyon.”
“Oh good. Are you in the car?”
“I am. For now.”
“What, you’re heading this way, right?”
“Yeah. No, just sayin’. The wreck’s being moody. It might leave me stranded at the side of the road.”
“Chick-style.” Is he saying my car’s acting like a woman? “Worst case, call me and I’ll pick you up ASAP. There’ll be no more time lost on bullshit.”
I feel lighter when I call Nadine next.
“Are you there yet?” She’s a waft of quiet excitement on my ear, and I smile against myself. How did I do things without her before? Nadine is here, always with me even when she’s not. I try to save her from my blackest moments, but this thrill, this hope, this what-if—
“They’ll kick me out. Kick my ass, maybe.” I grimace.
“Nu-huh, they want you to come. Keyon knows what he’s talking about.”
“Worst case, I’ll hit the road again,” I say, and my girl, she laughs softly.
“Yeah, do that. Hit the road, baby, ’cause then you’re too good for them.”
“I can’t find the exit,” I tell Keyon on the phone. I’m bunched-up nerves, and it’s pissing me off. Dusk has taken over, dark asphalt sucking the light away. I have to squint to see the traffic signs, and many of them aren’t even where you’d think they’d be. Who decides where to position them anyway? Shouldn’t there be a committee for that stuff?
“It’s fifty-seven,” he says.
“Not fifty-four?”
“There is no exit fifty-four. Keep going. Unless you’ve passed it?”
“I’m at... Umm.” Another cluster of green squares with numbers reflect my headlights for a few seconds. “Just passed fifty-five.”
“You’re almost here then. There’s no fifty-six either, so the next one is—”
“Weird, man.” I’ve got a horde of oversized moths flapping around in my stomach. For a moment, I wonder if I’ve suddenly contracted irritable bowel syndrome.
“Yeah, just deal with it.”
And there it is. A stupid little sign half hidden behind a bush. Aren’t they supposed to keep them clean of greenery? Well, I can see it per se, but at this point, I’d prefer everything thrown at me on Vegas-sized billboards.
“I see it,” I murmur. I’m so close to meeting these people I’ve never stopped thinking about.
“You gonna be all right?”
Can he tell how I am? I hope not. “I’m always okay.”
“Good.” His voice is tinny over the phone. “Five minutes tops.”
“See ya,” I throw out and hang up.
Richard Markeston lives in the wilderness. I’m not a natural when it comes to south and north, east and west, so I’m basing my instincts on left and right, up and down. Now, my car is descending, ocean-bound, probably.
Despite the jungle surrounding me, the wreck’s tires glide over fresh asphalt until it gives to a paved path. I can’t see the stones from the car, but from their hushed smoothness, they’re laid with artisan precision. I regret that this doesn’t surprise me—I’m too familiar with rich people’s homes.
An alley of palm trees takes me to Markeston’s gates, which are tall and made of steel bars and wood. My instinct is to ignore the buzzer, but I’m a legitimate guest here on this estate so I press it instead.
“Yes?” a woman answers. From the sound, English isn’t her first language. “How can I help?” she lilts out, the friction on the “h” giving her away as a Spanish native.
“Hello.” I might be louder than needed. “I’m Cugs McConelly. I’m here for Keyon Arias and... Richard Markeston.”
She doesn’t reply, so I add, “They invited me here.”
“A-ha, a-ha,” she says as if considering my statement, but then the gates swing open so silently I think of ghosts.
As I drive on, she urges me from behind. “Iz okay, go on in.”
I’m not sure what I was thinking. I want to start the car and drive off again, because she takes my breath away, my sister, from her post on the porch.
The bright lights make her peer as she works to zoom in on the wreck. I get out. Force myself to walk slowly. I saunter. Hell, I can be calm. Just—
It’s Paislee up there.
Her hair is long, longer than I remember, but I was six when I last really saw her. Of course it’s longer and snaking over her arm and into her embrace with Keyon.
A rush fills my insides. I want to reach her. I narrow my eyes, focusing so I don’t miss out on any shift in her expression. I step closer while Keyon says something like, “Hey, man. I figured this was a good time since it’s the last time we’ll be in Tampa together for a while.”
I think I answer, “Yeah, good call,” but then I can’t be sure. Paislee’s eyes widen. They’re big and my sister’s, and I don’t know what to do. My lungs are on overdrive while I stare at this apparition.
“Sis.” My voice breaks like I just hit puberty. “W
ow. Paislee.”
“Why didn’t you answer my Facebook messages?” Her eyes are so bright they shimmer. Is she crying?
I swallow the fear in my throat. If it overflows, what’s left of me?
“Thanks for accepting my Facebook friendship,” Keyon says.
“Keyon ‘The Avenger’ Arias wanted to be my friend. How could I not?” I sound eons more playful than I am.
“Baby,” Paislee sobs out.
I’m someone life punches in the face. “Baby.” Is that Keyon or me?
“You’re crazy, you know that?” Her voice warbles as she continues. “Scare me like this. Baby, baby brother. Finally.”
Paislee flings her arms around me. All these years: I’m going to eat them up, wash them away. Here she is, oh the things she did for me, readings, cookies, snowmen, swimming, hugging. Everything she shared with me, and here I believed Dad’s stories?
I crush her so tight air hisses out of her. I can’t, can’t stop. “I’m sorry. Ever since we left Rigita, Dad has talked...”
“I don’t care. You’re here. I love you so much you have no freaking idea.”
“I sort of do. Fifty-nine Facebook messages.”
“Seriously? That’s how many it’s been, and you did nothing? I hate you.” Paislee’s slight body relaxes against me, the sister of twelve years ago. I feel my smile when she draws back to study me. Her eyes are full of tears.
“Sis. I can’t even tell you how good it is to see you.”
Who knew—
Who knew that childhood love remains intact?
Keyon leads the way through an elaborate foyer, parlors, and living rooms until we hit a darkened hallway. Paislee has an arm around my middle, and I’ve got her tucked against me as we walk. Familiar yet unfamiliar, her body forms to mine like a sister’s does to a brother’s.
“We should have warned Mom, huh?” Paislee’s question is reinforced by marble floors and smooth walls.
Keyon turns, flashing a grin. “She’ll be okay. Bet she’ll be more than okay, actually.”
