by Sean Kennedy
Epilogue
AND THEN draft day finally dawned. Everything Micah had worked towards; the day he anticipated and dreaded equally. By the afternoon, his whole life would have changed.
The morning started just like any other, although breakfast was a subdued affair. His mother was on the rarest of tenterhooks, and Alex was even more quiet than usual. His dad, however, was overly jubilant, an act that showed just how nervous and fearful he felt.
The Johnson family had been invited to appear onsite, which was a sign in itself that Micah was going to be drafted to some team. They wouldn’t have bothered extending the invite in order to film his disappointment. The AFL never wanted to show the flip side of the draft—the crushing devastation of those who were never selected. The articles would only reflect the victorious with their already prepared media-friendly stories.
It was almost like being on trial. They were ushered into a room where the panel was seated at the front, cameras and microphones dwarfing them. Micah saw boys from the draft camp dotted here and there with their families.
Jack wasn’t there. Jack’s dream of professional playing seemed to have ended with the final draft camp. There hadn’t been an invite for him, although it was often said that didn’t mean anything. But neither had there been any interest in the media being at his home to film him if he got in. It was the same as saying they already knew. Jack had tried to sound fine when Micah called him, but Micah heard the pain anyway. There were still the local leagues, and maybe if he proved himself, he could get another chance with the pro teams by going up through the ranks.
Micah hoped so. Jack was one of the good guys.
Unlike Boyd Davies, who was sitting farther down the row the Johnsons found themselves in. Micah nodded at him and Boyd returned it, both as cool as cucumbers.
With little preamble the draft began.
The first few rounds, Micah seriously thought he was having heart palpitations. His name wasn’t called out. He hadn’t expected to be number one; he had been relieved when the West Coast Eagles selected someone other than him. He didn’t want to end up on the other side of the country. He prayed his own beloved Saints would choose him, but they went with Heath McAvoy, a boy Micah hadn’t really noticed at the draft camp as he kept to himself. And then Boyd Davies was selected for Hawthorn.
Boyd Davies had been chosen before he had.
He wanted to fool himself that it didn’t matter, but it did. Boyd looked pleased with himself as he was ushered out of the room into the waiting arms of the Hawks coach. He couldn’t resist throwing a look back at Micah, and rather than let Boyd see him rattled, Micah gave him a thumbs-up.
Boyd walked into the doorframe, he seemed to be that surprised.
Micah stifled a laugh. Too bad Boyd hadn’t broken his nose, although that wasn’t a very charitable thought to have.
But Micah Johnson was only trying to reform, not become a bloody saint—unless of the St. Kilda variety.
As the next round started, Micah turned to see Kyle was sitting at the back of the room with his dad. He was happy to see him and waved, but he also dreaded Kyle being there to witness his failure if he wasn’t selected.
Which was looking possible. Another round, and he was starting to lose hope. Yes, it was now only selection seven, but he had thought he would be taken by now. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. His mother noticed his distress and closed her hand over his.
The AFL chief leaned back into the microphone. “Selection Eight: Fremantle Dockers.”
The Fremantle recruiter cleared his throat and took a sip of water. Micah almost groaned aloud at the theatrics of the moment. It wasn’t like the guy hadn’t known he was next.
“Player number 196349. Micah Johnson.”
His mother’s grip tightened on him. Cameras immediately swivelled in his direction to catch his reaction. Micah stayed poker-faced, but there was no denying that the colour had drained out of his mother’s. He knew her worst fear had come true: her boy was moving to the other side of the country. He wasn’t just leaving the nest, he was being pushed out against his will and told to fly.
Micah could hear applause, but it started to zone out and was replaced with a frenetic buzzing in his ear. He looked back at his family—they looked shattered. Beyond them was a pale-looking Kyle.
A part of him was sure he was going to faint, but he managed to get to his feet and follow the AFL suit who took him into the next hall, where his life was about to change forever.
He was met by senior members of the coaching team, and while they spoke warmly to him and pumped his hand in congratulations, their words mashed together and he couldn’t make out what they were saying. His first AFL guernsey was handed to him, the vivid purple contrasting with the stark white of the Dockers’ colours. He knew they wanted him to put it on—there were media waiting for his first official press conference. He tried to smile as he pulled off his shirt and felt the rough material of a never-worn jumper scratch against his skin, but he felt it probably came across as more of a grimace.
He had to get this right; a sports-mad country was watching. Someone took his shirt off him and stuffed it into a Dockers gym bag already filled with his new team’s merchandise.
It still didn’t seem real. He was moving in a dream state, the air around him sluggish, the sound out of sync, the blood in his ears beating out an infernal and uneven rhythm.
And he stepped into a room filled with the blinding flashes of cameras, and it was like he could no longer see either.
He don’t even know how he got through the press conference, but he plastered a happy smile on his face and hoped he was pulling it off believably as he delivered rote answers about how happy he was to have been drafted and how he was sure his parents were happy as well. Did he mention the word “happy”? He was sure he did.
As he was finally let go to see his family again, he was armed with forms to fill out, information booklets, and seemingly every Dockers players’ and board members’ information details entered into his phone. He was told his flight to Perth was booked for the next night. He had one day left in Melbourne, and it would be spent in a flurry of packing and hasty good-byes. Micah had only led himself to believe he would be drafted to a Melbourne team—there had been no preparation taken on his behalf. He hadn’t even let himself talk about it with Kyle, even though Kyle had been desperate to bring it up time and time again. Kyle had been talking about going on to further study with the AIS; Canberra and Melbourne hadn’t seemed so far away from each other, then.
Perth and Canberra? They might as well have been in different countries.
When he met with his family in an empty room set aside for their privacy, his mum allowed the dam to break. She started crying as soon as she saw him, and she couldn’t even speak. His dad’s hand rested upon her shoulder. Even Alex looked lost.
“We knew this could happen” was all Micah said.
“I don’t want you to go,” Alex said. It was almost a wail.
Micah’s phone buzzed in his hand. He looked to see a call incoming from Declan. He let it go to voice mail. He had to help his family before he could speak to anybody else, whether they were offering congratulations or commiserations.
“This isn’t right,” his mother finally managed to choke out.
“It’s not what I wanted,” Micah agreed.
“It’s not what any of us wanted,” his dad said.
Alex was staring at the ground, unable to look at anybody. “When do you have to go?”
Micah wished with all his heart that he could give them a different answer. “Tomorrow.”
“They couldn’t even give you more than one day?” his dad demanded.
“They want me to start training. Then they want me to go on their end-of-year trip.”
“How lovely.” His mother sounded like it was anything but.
He wanted her to hug him, to tell him he didn’t have to go. That they could stop it somehow. But she didn’t. They were all r
esigned to his fate.
They had known it all along.
“Let’s go home. We have to get you packed.”
“There’s just something I have to do first,” Micah said.
His parents looked as if they were about to protest, but they nodded. “We’ll meet you at the car.”
In a way, what Micah had to do next was even worse than telling his parents. He knew he had one more day with his parents and Alex, but there would be more to come. Holidays, games both interstate and at home—depending on whether he could call Fremantle home by then… he could hold on to that. But Kyle? Deep down they both knew it was impossible.
As he left the room, he spotted Kyle sitting farther down the hall. He looked pensive, probably because he knew what was coming. He looked up and saw Micah. His expression didn’t change.
Micah led him into the room that was now empty again.
“So, Perth?” Kyle asked. His tone was bright, but forced. “Holy shit.”
For the first time in his life, Micah Johnson was wholly incapable of speech. He took solace in Kyle’s arms, and as he felt the warmth of the other boy envelop him, he wished this moment in time—this one blissful second where he could momentarily forget all the uncertainties he was now facing—would freeze and capture him in it forever.
Unfortunately, it didn’t.
SEAN KENNEDY lives in Perth, Western Australia, but his heart still belongs to his hometown Melbourne—which is also the home of Simon Murray and Declan Tyler from his series Tigers and Devils. A disciple of cult leader David Lynch, Sean is breathlessly awaiting the revival of Twin Peaks in 2016.
Website: www.seankennedybooks.com
Published by
Harmony Ink Press
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
[email protected] • http://harmonyinkpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The Ongoing Reformation of Micah Johnson
© 2016 Sean Kennedy.
Cover Art
© 2016 Catt Ford.
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Harmony Ink Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or [email protected].
ISBN: 978-1-63476-545-9
Digital ISBN: 978-1-63476-547-3
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015918963
First Edition April 2016
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
PART ONE
INTRODUCTION
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
PART TWO
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
PART THREE
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About the Author
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