by Sandra Grice
“No, Johnny, thank you. Look, son, I’m really sorry I couldn’t find a spot for you on the team. But I’ve seen hardworking kids like you before. I know that whatever you do in life, as long as you stay true to who you are and go after it, you will succeed. Just won’t be football.”
Johnny laughed and the coach began to chuckle with him. “No, Coach, it sure won’t be football. We pretty much put that notion to bed, didn’t we?”
The party was going strong when Johnny arrived that night. It was more amazing than he had ever imagined it would be. It turned out that “The Farm” was the college students’ most popular party spot and no one threw a bigger or better party than the football team. Situated on rolling hills, the forty-acre plot was owned by a Middle Tennessee State alumnus, who had himself played football for the Blue Raiders years ago.
The plot was about twelve miles from campus in the middle of absolutely nowhere, which was perfect. The twisting road to the location went from asphalt to gravel and finally to just pure Tennessee dirt. If you were on this road and not going to The Farm then you were most definitely lost, not to mention unwanted.
It was largely wooded land, but after a few hundred yards the landscape opened up to an incredible clearing at the apex of one of the hills. From this vantage point, Johnny could see more stars than he had imagined the galaxy held. It was awesome in every sense of the word, and, oh, what stories these woods could probably tell. He reflected on the life of the animal inhabitants. How they must hate it when these two-legged party animals interrupted their tranquility. Nonetheless, there was no doubt some good times were had here.
Johnny had picked up three jobs that summer to help his mom pay for his college. He was the first of the family to make it. No doubt he had a lot invested, and he was not about to blow it. Johnny’s first goal was to learn and graduate. But at heart he was a guy who just loved being around people. It was important to him to fit in with his new friends. More than that, he had worked hard at football tryouts, and now it was time to play hard.
Buck spotted him first. “Johnny boy, you made it. We told you it was no hoax, man. Five bucks goes in the hat, grab you a cup, and I’ll prime the keg for you.”
Johnny tossed his five spot in the hat and smiled. He was not old enough to drink, but neither were half the people there. “Thanks Buck. Man, this is great. What do I have to do to get in that game over there? It looks like fun.” Johnny was not much of a drinker really, but the drinking game promised to bring him into the thick of the party quickly.
Buck looked from Johnny to the funnel-like contraption where massive amounts of beer were poured in one end and consumed by the participant on the other. It was a sure-fire way to get a fast buzz, or more for the uninitiated. Buck shrugged and looked back at Johnny.
“You’re next, buddy. Pace yourself though, man, we don’t want you hammered too early. You do want to be able to remember at least part of this night in the morning.”
And so began the legendary first Farm party for Johnny Clark. For it was on that night, well past midnight, full of intoxicated confidence, that young Johnny picked up Casey Capps’ guitar and started strumming it. He had kicked around some chords before and played a little in a high school band, but tonight he was a star.
“If I leave here tomorrooow, ow, would you still remembeeer, er, meeeee.” Johnny closed his eyes and belted out all he could remember of Free Bird. He saw Bic lighters being pulled out and swaying in the night air as he crooned the words. It was his best singing voice ever. The other noises at the party stopped and all eyes were on him. They were so into his music that they were part of him, willing him on. He was soaring with the magnitude of all the stars above. He could feel his seemingly weightless body being lifted from the ground, higher, higher.
Then he opened his eyes and saw that, as he had imagined, he was no longer standing on the ground. He then noticed that he was lifted up above the crowd by a very angry Casey Capps. Casey held him by his shirt collar with one hand and was glaring at him with obvious disdain. Casey stood a good six foot three inches and weighed over 240 pounds. The burly man appeared ready to tear Johnny into little pieces. He was the starting fullback and the strongest dude on the team.
Casey growled, “Just who are you, little man? And what do you think you are doing with my guitar? Nobody touches my guitar, not my girlfriend, not my brothers, not my mother. You’re dead, kid.”
And with that, in a flash, Johnny’s night ended. The last thing he saw was four hairy knuckles coming at him, then darkness.
Hours later Johnny awoke in the most pain he had ever experienced, without remembering what caused his misery. The only good thing about the pain was that it proved he was not dead. There was no way death could make one’s head throb like this. Johnny really did not want to open his eyes, but he knew he had no choice. Chiefly because he had no clue where he was, or how he got there. Anticipating the inevitable result, he slowly opened one eye.
He had been right in dreading the outcome. The steams of sunlight filtered through his half-opened eyelids like cattle prods to his fragile head. What was worse, the payoff was not worth it. He still remained clueless. Through the blur he could make out the outline of a small nylon tent, but that told him nothing. He could barely move his neck, and when he moved his hand across his face, his fingers were caked with crusty, dried blood. He hurt from the base of his neck to the top of his head; but it was his nose that cried for mercy. It even hurt to breathe.
The tent door flap parted. The light filtered in like a howitzer to his fragile face. He gasped reflexively from the sudden painful blast.
“Please, please close that thing.” Even his voice provided yet another source of pain.
“Oh my, you are in bad shape, aren’t you?”
The soothing feminine voice was as unexpected as it was welcomed. It did not make him hurt less, but it did wonders for his spirit.
The tent flap closed abruptly and he could make out the outline of a beautifully shaped and quite attractive body. Wow, what a regrettable way to make a first impression, he mused.
“You put on quite the show for us last night, Johnny. I just came to check on you. We thought Casey had killed you, the way you just went down and didn’t move.”
It was the sweetest voice he had ever heard, but he could not make his mind put the events in sensible order. “Who? What?” He tried to raise his head, but fell back in misery. Nothing about the previous night was coming back to him, except seeing Buck, chugging a lot of beer, looking up at the stars, and … and singing?
“Was I singing?” he questioned hesitantly.
“Oh, were you ever singing. You were singing for all you were worth, but that wasn’t the problem. Your crime was picking up Casey’s guitar. That’s what nearly got you killed out there.”
“Casey Capps, the team’s starting fullback? The man with his sights set on the pros next year? That Casey Capps?”
“Well you have retained some memory; that’s a good sign.”
He thought she was smiling at him. “I can’t believe I did that. I would have decked me too if somebody messed with my guitar -- well if I had one anyway. I gotta go apologize. Man, I am so sorry.” He rubbed his nose. “So, so sorry. That was not cool at all.”
“Yes, well, don’t worry about Casey.” Her voice soothed him.
Johnny suddenly realized he had been talking to one of the prettiest girls he had ever met, and did not even know her name. Man, what an idiot you are, Johnny Clark.
“Here, now this will help the swelling.” She lifted an ice pack and deftly placed it on the bridge of his nose. The weight of the pack made him wince, but he was regaining his composure now, and willed the pain away for the moment.
“Say, you do that like you know what you are doing,” he whispered.
“Yes, well I should. I grew up in sports and my dad is the assistant coach for the football team. I’ve done ice packs and Ace bandages for quite a while now. Oh, I’m Kayla, Kayla Green.�
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“Kayla, it’s very nice to meet you; I’m…”
“I know who you are, silly. You’re Johnny Clark. Everyone knows who you are now.” She smiled.
The smiled helped, but her words were mortifying. Yep, now he would forever be known as the jerk that messed with Casey Capps’ stuff and got decked. “AHH…” is all he could manage to say.
“Johnny, really, don’t worry about it. Casey is an okay guy, but everyone knows he is a bully sometimes and a big baby about his guitar. He’s not even very good at it. It’ll be okay; you’ll square it with him and it will be fine.”
“Oh yeah, you sound pretty sure about that, but I just don’t know. I might as well prepare myself for a world of grief about this.”
“The guys will give you a hard time about it, no doubt, but it’ll work out. Believe me; I know how these guys are. Some of them thought it was a real hoot when it happened. Well they did once we found out you were not dead. A fatality would have spoiled a really good party, you know.”
The more he watched and listened to her, the more he wanted to know about her. Her chestnut hair was tied up in a tight pony tail so that the sharp features of her face were easily seen. She had dimples when she smiled, and she was so easy to talk to, as though he had known her forever. He thought for a moment that he could just fall in love with her right then and there. How could he be thinking such things about someone he just met? Yet his mind refused to let go of the thought that perhaps taking that punch was going to pay big dividends for him after all. He could tell his kids that his disjointed nose led him to meet and marry their mother.
“Besides” –she went on cleaning the blood off of his face- “no one knows Casey better than me. We’ve been together for over a year now. He’s really not a bad guy.”
His thoughts burst in his mind, leaving a gloomy disdain for his incredibly bad timing. His next thought made that completely inconsequential for the moment.
“Kayla, you are Casey’s girlfriend? What are you doing here? You’ve got to leave now, or I do. What are you trying to do, get me killed for good?”
“Relax, Johnny. Casey knows I am here. Like I said, we really thought you were hurt bad. He is still pissed about the guitar, but he never really meant to lay you out cold like that. This is our tent that you are in. He had to get back to campus. I stayed behind to help you out. Oh, and to show you no hard feelings, Casey left you something. Lay still; I’ll get it for you.”
Johnny lay motionless. He could not imagine what this surprise might be. Unless it was a shovel with which he was supposed to dig his own grave.
“Now close your eyes. I want to see the full effect,” Kayla said as she returned to his side.
“Yep, a guilty man, getting ready to reap his consequences,” he sighed.
“Okay now, just know that it is a second that he doesn’t use anymore, but it still sounds good. Go ahead, open your eyes.”
“Oh my gosh. Kayla, you’ve got to be kidding me. A guitar? For me? I mean, I can pay him for it when I apologize to him.”
“Oh no, you’ve paid enough already.” She laughed.
“He wanted to give this to me after I…”
“Well the truth of it is I made him come up with something to give you. Told him I was going to report his assault on you to my dad if he didn’t. I got his attention real fast. But he is the one who came up with giving you the guitar. He heard everybody talking about how into the music you were, so he thought you might like it.”
“Like it? I love it. I’ve wanted a guitar for most of my life. I always had to borrow one when I wanted to play. I don’t believe this. It’s great.”
She looked as if she had never seen such a smile on the face of a grown man before. He thought for a moment that he was going to wake up from a wonderful dream. Then, it was all made real when she leaned over and kissed his cheek delicately. “And that’s my gift to you.”
He blushed, though undetectable through his dark tan. “Thank you. My first hit song shall be dedicated to you, Kayla Green. The woman who nursed me back to health and gave me a second chance.”
TURNING POINT
NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE, 1988
Dale doodled vigorously on her desk calendar with her right hand, turning the pages of the thick contract with the other hand. A mild headache had seeped into her day. It was no wonder; her teeth had held this clenched position for most of the two-hour teleconference she was trying to wrap up.
“Al, I told you this merger is worth millions of dollars, but it has to be done right. I’m not going to sell my client out just to make you happy. Look, the limited liability clause stays, period. Also, we want residuals in place as we discussed and international rights split 50-50. Now that’s the final offer. Take it or find someone else to do business with.”
“Dale, you are not being reasonable. We both know your client has to have this deal or he will go under.”
“Better he go under with dignity than prosper without honor, Al. Listen, I know what you are saying, but I just cannot in good conscience let him sign your offer. It will hurt so many innocent people.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll talk to my people and see what they say, but I think you’ve just found the deal breaker on this one.”
“I’ll live with it. Call me when you know.”
Dale cradled the phone and breathed deeply. Dad, I know this is what you would do. She had done the right thing, but at what price? After several years as an attorney for one of the largest corporate law firms in Nashville, she had hoped it would get easier, or at least more tolerable. It did not. The legal issues she loved, but the ethical stretches wore on her every day. This time she may have gone too far for the partners to pardon her. It could be her last stand. She knew it, and she needed a sounding board.
The phone rang again. Wow that was fast, Al.
“Hey, hey, Dale, what’s up, girl? Gracie and I are down in the lobby. We wanted to know if we could come up and see you. Gracie loves the view from your bastion of corporate life.”
“Laura, hey, just who I needed to hear from. Sure, I can’t wait to see you two. I’ve got some M&Ms with Gracie’s name on them. Come on up.”
“I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you represented the American Dental Association and got a cut from them. You give my kid way too much of that stuff.”
“You know that’s what godmothers are for, don’t you? See you in a bit.”
Dale hung up the phone and ran her finger around the photograph she had put on her desk when she set up the office. She was smiling happily, as was Laura, and between the two of them sat a pink-clad infant named Gracie.
She remembered it all clearly, how she had been crushed by the betrayal only to find out the betrayal was not what she thought it was. Or at least it did not involve who she thought.
Only by the supernatural hand of God did she endure the weeks and months after that heart-stopping phone call. She had reached Jason later that day and confronted him with a simple question.
“Is is true, Jason? Are you married?”
Jason looked stricken and did not immediately answer. When he did, it was with tears in his eyes. “Yes, but…”
He stopped because they both knew there were no “buts” as far as Dale was concerned. She believed firmly in moral absolutes and he knew this well.
For her part, Dale had walked to the door and opened it. Without saying anything more, she asked him to leave and stay out of her life. Her pain was etched on her face, and her heart felt like it would never love again.
It was Laura’s pregnancy and her increasing stirrings of the Holy Spirit that sustained her. Together the women grew in spirit and in truth, and soon it became Laura who was praying for Dale more than the other way around.
Even now, after all of those years, the memories of his betrayal were raw and painful. Why, Jason? It was a question that still haunted her. She thought she had moved on, at least to some degree. Yet, she had not even been able to get close to her
current boyfriend, Wayne. He was an amazing man, but her heart seemed forever stunted by her first love.
The floral bouquet on her credenza proved that she had never really gotten over her first love. It was delivered earlier that morning and came with a card that rocked her. “Things have changed. I am free. Please give me another chance. I love you. Jason.” She wanted to cry, but the pain was deeper than tears. Gracie’s voice brought her back to the present.
“Aunt Dale!” Gracie made a beeline to Dale. The rambunctious five-year old was a handful, but Dale loved her as if she were her own.
“Look, Aunt Dale, Momma got me this new doll. It cries and pees and everything!”
“My goodness, just what this office needs, another baby to take care of.”
“Someone is having a bad day, huh?” Laura knew exactly what a comment like that meant from Dale. She looked directly at Dale and could see the despair.
“Hang on; I’m going to call the babysitter right now, because Aunt Dale and Mommy are going to need some bonding time.”
“What’s bond time, Aunt Dale?” Gracie climbed up into Dale’s lap and directed her emerald green eyes directly at her. It was a serious question.
“Well, Gracie, it’s just what you and I are doing right now. Spending fun time together, talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. You do that with people that you especially like.”
Gracie squinted her eyes and contemplated Dale’s answer, then chimed, “I don’t think that is gonna work for you and Mommy.”
“Sweetheart, what on earth do you mean?”
“Well, Momma is way too big to climb up in your lap like me.”
Dale and Laura looked at each other and stifled a laugh, and then let it go. They laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks. Dale had desperately needed this.
“Duly noted, Gracie,” Dale finally said, “and for that observation my girl deserves some M&Ms.”