In Real Life

by Lawrence Tabak

  “This is Seth Gordon?”

  The accent is really heavy and the connection is fuzzy but I say yes. He tells me his name which sounds to me like Young Come Hill.

  “I’m coach for Team Anaconda. Perhaps you’ve heard?”

  That I hear perfectly well. It’s the name of one of the top four professional teams in Korea. Main sponsor ANC Computers.

  “Of course,” I say, and I quickly name the top two players on his squad, both of them famous. Everyone on that team is an amazing player.

  “Very good. Impressed. We also very impressed. I was at your Nationals in June and saw you play.”

  He does this weird laugh and adds, “Our whole team enjoy your creative use of miners. Very funny for us!” He laughs again and then clears his throat. “Anyway, after some many considerations we have decided that you are maybe most promising young American player.”

  “Yeah?” I’m pretty much too stunned to actually speak a sentence.

  “We believe that with the proper application of our proven training methods that you could become very successful. Yes, very successful.”

  There is a bit of pause and I hear him talking to someone else, away from the phone, talking what I guess is Korean.

  “Mr. Seth Gordon?”

  “Still here,” I say, as if I was going to hang up on him or something.

  “I am calling because Team Anaconda is doing promotional tour across U.S. Chicago August fifteen and sixteen. We hope you to come and meet our players and maybe practice. Then we talk about your future. We pay for airplane ticket. Pick you up at airport. All very easy for you.”

  My heart is racing like I just ran a gym class mile.

  “Mr. Seth Gordon?”

  “Yeah, still here.” I say.

  “So you think this could be a yes? That you meet us in Chicago?”

  For some reason I think of Stomp. Could he be capable of punking me like this? How did I know if this guy was real? I could just imagine Stomp and a couple of his buddies putting something like this on. Sitting around the phone, holding back their laughter.

  So I’m a little cool when I say, “Absolutely. You just send me the tickets and details.” That way, if nothing shows up, I can always tell Stomp I was on to him. And if the tickets show up? Hell, this could be start of my new life.

  Yeong, or whoever it might be, rattles off my address and says that a FedEx package should be there in a day. Then he gives me a number which I jot down on a scrap of paper.

  “You have question, you call.”

  “I will,” I say, and as soon as I hang up I race back to my computer and look up Team Anaconda. Sure enough, there is a picture of Sun Kwon Yeong. But then again, if I can look up his name, then so can Stomp.

  I IM DT but he’s not online. I text him that I’ve got some big news. I’ve got to figure out how I’m possibly going to be ready. I’ve got two weeks to get my game into shape before I mix it up with some of the best pros in the world.

  Then I collapse on my bed. Just lying there, dying to talk to someone so I dial Garrett.

  “Hey kid brother,” he answers. “I thought you’d lost your phone again or something, it’s been so long since you called.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that, but you know how it is.”

  “Oh yeah. Dad says you got a girlfriend? What kind of miracle is that?”

  “Up yours. And she’s not really my girlfriend. Not like a Kimberly.”

  “A what?”

  “Nevermind. It’s just that she’s new in town. Doesn’t know many people. We’ve done a couple things together, is all.”

  “It only takes a couple of things.”

  “STFU, it’s not like that.”

  “Not yet. Anyway, what’s up? Usually you only call on my birthday or if you need to borrow something I left at home.”

  So I tell him about the call from the Korean team and he can tell from my voice that I’m pretty worked up.

  “OK,” he says. “OK, calm down. It sounds good. Sounds like a good opportunity, but there’s no need to go nuts.”

  “Are you kidding?” I’m almost shouting. “The Chicago Bulls call you up and say they want you to come down and scrimmage. You’re going to be what? Calm?”

  “Have you told Mom or Dad?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well. I’d get on that. You’re still a minor. I’m not sure you’re allowed to blow your nose without permission. Let alone fly off to Chicago and get picked up by some stranger.”

  I want to argue with him, but know he’s right. So I promise to call Mom and Dad and fill them in.

  “So how’s your summer?” I ask.

  “It’s fine. Got one more camp and then I’m going to come down and make your life hell for a couple of weeks. In fact, I’m flying in on the fourteenth so I should see you before you go on this Chicago thing. That is, if Mom and Dad let you.”

  30.

  Mom made me enter a number at the Institute into my cell and that’s the first number I call after hanging up with Garrett. I get an answering machine and even though I hate to leave messages I leave one, asking that Sunny Gordon call me.

  Dad is on the road again, but he does most of his business over his cell and he picks up immediately. I start to explain it to him when I hear an announcement in the background.

  “Say again,” Dad says. “And make it quick. We’re starting to board.”

  For some reason my dad always has to be the first on board every flight he takes. He gets something like a million miles a year and so gets all these perks. So when they announce they’re boarding babies and cripples and triple-platinum members, you can bet that Dad will be pushing past the strollers and elbowing the cripples to be the first to stow his bag in the best spot above his seat.

  I start explaining again.

  I’m halfway through when he says, “Look, Seth, I’ve got to run. This sounds a little fishy to me. You text me the number of these guys and the name of their outfit and I’ll check ‘em out.”

  Like he has access to the National Security database or something.

  So I say OK and go back to my computer and look up some info on Team Anaconda. I text him the basics and sit there staring at the computer screen. I just can’t believe I’m going to have a chance to audition for one of the greatest teams in the world.

  As I’m spacing out staring at the screen DT’s IM pops up and asks what’s up.

  I tell him to sign onto the Starfare platform so we can talk. I slip on my headset and we’re both on so I just let it all out in one manic burst.

  “Holy shit,” DT says. “You think this has anything to do with Stomp’s team?”

  “Maybe. You think they’re worried about them?”

  “Who knows? The main thing is they’re interested in you. I’ve been telling you for years, you got some mad skills, dude. They know what they’re doing.”

  I asked DT if he thought it could be a practical joke. That Stomp was just setting me up.

  He pauses for a second and then says no, that it was way beyond Stomp.

  “All he can do is scream and swear. No way. This has got to be real. And you had better get your game in shape.”

  I agree and we get in the queue for some advanced two-on-two action.

  31.

  That night I get a call back from Dad. He says he called and talked to the Yeong guy and did a little research and that it sounds OK to him. But he wants me to clear it with Mom.

  I call and leave another message at the Institute.

  I do a short shift that night, no Hannah. Totally boring and slow and I’m happy when they send me home after about two hours. There was a pepperoni pizza sitting in the take-out warmer for most of my shift. Sometimes people order and never show up. Who knows why. When
I ask the manager he says I can have it.

  So I walk home with an extra-large pizza. As I’m walking I call up Eric, who lives just a few blocks away and asks if he wants to come over and help me eat it. He says sure, but that he and Becca are just finishing up a World of Warcraft raid. Would it be all right if she came along?

  They must be hungry because the pizza is still warm when they show up at my door. We eat it while watching a reality show about these people trying to be the next great American artist. In this episode they root through a big pile of garbage and try to turn the stuff into great art. They come up with some really weird displays. I wouldn’t want to live with any of them, but the judges seem to like a couple.

  I tell Eric and Becca about my tryout and they’re pretty blown away. Eric used to play a little Starfare but never got very good. But he knows I’ve been doing really well with it.

  After we knock off the pizza they decide to hang out awhile. So after the show is over we head upstairs to my room. They pull up chairs and watch me play a game. Eric’s saying stuff like, “Damn, I never knew you could double your gamma cannons like that,” and yelling encouragement when I get into a really big fight. And Becca, I can tell she’s pretty impressed that I have a chance to go pro. She keeps asking stuff like how much a Starfare pro makes and whether there are any girls on the Korean teams. I tell her six figures is common for the good ones. I’m not sure about the girls because I see the names online but I don’t know Korean names that well. So I just say probably.

  It’s kinda nice having live encouragement. I’m almost through with a second game when my phone rings. It’s Mom. When I pick up and say “Hi, Mom,” Becca and Eric exchange glances. I cover the receiver and tell them to take off if they want. After they leave I let Mom tell me all about her latest advances at the Institute while I’m blasting my way through the final stages of the game. I grunt and throw in some one-word comments.

  “Seth,” Mom says after about ten minutes. “Are you there. All there? Or are you gaming?”

  “Here, Mom,” I say, after a little pause, because I’ve got to get into the melee, toss out some carbide bombs and get out before they detonate.

  “Sounds like you’re gaming.”

  “No, Mom, really.” Just a couple more blasts and I’ll be done.

  “So, Seth,” Mom says. “I just got off the phone with your father and he said something about you wanting to fly to Chicago to play computer games with some Korean people? I don’t know, Seth. You’re only fifteen.”

  “Almost sixteen,” I say automatically. Almost done.

  “Neither your father or I know who these people are, Seth. They might have good intentions, but they might not. I’m not sure this is a good idea. You need to keep your mind focused on your studies. You’ll be taking college courses next year and you have such a wonderful future, with your math abilities.”

  Done. I shut down the screen so I can focus.

  “So I would say no to this thing,” Mom is saying.

  “No?” I can’t believe this. “But Mom. I’d have a chance to meet some of the greatest players in the world. Play with them. It’s going to be awesome.”

  “No, Seth. It’s not going to be ‘awesome.’ It’s going to be ‘thanks, but no.’”

  This is so typically Mom. She still thinks I’m just a kid. But she can be really stubborn.

  “Mom, I’ve got to do this. Think of the most amazing thing that you could get to do. Like the world’s greatest yoga guru calls you up and says come on over and be my private student. What would you do?”

  “Seth, there is no such thing as the world’s greatest yoga guru.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “And you know what I mean. The answer is no.”

  I can see this is going nowhere. Out of the blue this comes to me.

  “So what if Garrett comes with? He’s free that week. I’m sure he’d come along. And Dad, he’s got a ton of frequent flier mileage. He’s always saying that he wishes he had the energy to travel for fun. It wouldn’t really cost anything.”

  I can tell Mom is mulling this over. Even though Garrett is just a few years older than me, Mom and Dad consider him completely mature.

  “You’ve talked to Garrett about this?”

  “Not yet. But I was talking to him and he said he wanted to do some stuff together. This would be the perfect stuff. It would be like the old days, when he was living here and we’d hang out together.”

  I can tell from the pause that I’ve hit the right button.

  “Mom, I’ll talk to Garrett tonight. Call me tomorrow and I’ll give you the details.”

  She says OK and hangs up. Now I just have to get Garrett on board. But when I call it goes straight to voice mail and after the third time I leave a message.

  I’m just sitting there, buzzed from all the excitement. Wishing I had someone to talk to when I think of Hannah. I check my watch at it’s almost eleven. Shit.

  I call her cell and she picks up immediately. Before I can get a word out she’s saying, “So you’re really pushing it, aren’t you. I mean, I ask you to call me today, and it’s still today. Barely.”

  I stammer a bit and finally say, “Well, something happened today. Something sort of…I don’t know, important.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “You first,” I say.

  “Well, I was going to show this boy something. Something that I’ve never shown anyone.”

  Now I’m really flustered because what I’m thinking probably isn’t what Hannah is thinking. Or even more probably, she wants me to think what I’m thinking even though it isn’t right.

  “But now I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

  “No?”

  “No. Now your thing.”

  I tell her about the call from the Korean team and as much of the details of the conversation I can remember.

  She keeps saying, “Wow.”

  “Well, that’s my thing,” I conclude.

  “That was quite a thing,” Hannah says.

  “Yeah.”

  “So you are going to have to learn Korean?”

  “I suppose a few words wouldn’t hurt. And the really good news is that my mom, every time we got takeout Chinese, she made me eat it with chopsticks.”

  Hannah laughs and says, “OK, I forgive you. But I still have something to show you.”

  “OK.”

  “How about tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Sure,” I say. “Where?”

  “I’ll pick you up at one, OK? Got to go now.”

  It takes me a long time to get to sleep that night. But I’m fine with that because everything that’s racing through my head, it’s all good.

  32.

  When the phone rings it’s the middle of the night. Or my night, at least. Naturally I can’t find the thing, because I can’t remember, in the fog of sleepiness, which shorts I wore the day before. And despite Dad’s nagging, I haven’t picked up my room and my entire wardrobe is spread across the carpet. I manage to find the right pocket just before it rolls to voice mail.

  “Woke you up, didn’t I?” Garrett sounds pleased with himself. “You know some of us have to go to work every day.”

  “I work nights, in case you forgot.”

  “Oh, my bad,” he says in a way that makes it clear he isn’t sorry. “You left me some sort of frantic message, dude, in case you forgot.”

  “Just me give me a sec,” I say, to clear my head. I was dreaming about playing Starfare in front of a huge crowd and every time I scored a kill there was thunderous applause. I really would have liked to finish that game.

  “OK, here’s the deal,” I start. I give it to him as simply as I can. How Mom doesn’t want to me go to play with the Korean team. But that I was sure she wo
uld if he would come along. I even tell him I’ve got enough money saved up to pay his airfare if I had to.

  I let him digest all of this and then he says, “Let me get this straight. You want me to tag along on a trip to Chicago where you are probably going to play Starfare for twelve hours a day. While I, what, sit and watch?”

  “No, no,” I’m actually shaking my head, as if he could see. “You can duck out as soon as we get to wherever. I’m supposed to get a package later today, with all the info. I bet you know lots of people in Chicago. You can go visit one of your old girlfriends. You should have one in every city in the country by now…”

  “Hey, STFU. I cherish every one of those relationships. And as a matter of fact, we’ve got a guy on our team from Chicago who’s been bugging me for a year to come and see the big city.”

  “See? Perfect solution. We tell Mom that you’re chaperoning me. You call what’s his name and hit the town. Details to follow.”

  So after hemming and hawing and trying to get a rise out of me he says that if that’s the only way this thing is going to work that I could count him in.

  “Thanks, bro!” I almost shout and cut the call before he has a chance to reconsider.

  Then I go back to sleep.

  33.

  When I wake up, again, I immediately think of two things. First, the FedEx package from the Korean coach. If it’s a real deal and not Stomp punking me. And then, almost simultaneously, the thing that Hannah is going to show me that she’s never shown anyone before. I try not to think too much about the second thing. That leaves the package.

  Dad is off on another road trip, so the kitchen is sort of a mess. I make a mental note to load the dishwasher and scoot past to the front door. As I open it the heat is like a pressurized cloud smothering our place, waiting for an opening to push inside. I step onto the stoop, ignore the papers that are lying, yellowing in the driveway. Only when I turn to go inside do I find the package leaning against the house just next to the door. I grab it and slam the door against the heat. Rip it open on the way to the kitchen table.