“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Your chin scratched me. It hurt, so I woke up,” she lied.
Zach rubbed his chin. Yes, it was very scratchy. “Sorry, you know I can’t help it.” It seemed to grow faster when he slept.
June settled back down next to him. He propped himself up on his arm and looked at her. Zach wished so much that she’d soften. He had loved her since they were in kindergarten, when he’d tell his mother that some day he was going to marry her, but she had become more and more cold over the years.
June watched him for some sign of betrayal. Finally she asked, “Do you love me?”
“Of course,” it was an easy answer for Zach. “More than anything.”
June closed her eyes as he touched her cheek. “I love you too.”
Zach pressed a kiss to her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and lazily kissed him back, even though his stubble scratched against her lips. He pulled her closer, his hand wandering over her hip. Zach made a move to roll over her, tugging at her pajama bottoms, but she pushed him back down.
“Zach,” she scolded.
Zack grumbled a quiet protest. He didn’t get why June had never let him past second base. She wasn’t exactly religious.
“Goodnight, Zach.” She turned on her side. Zach wrapped his arms around her middle and settled down to sleep.
“Goodnight, Junebug.”
Homecoming at Olympia Heights had once been a time of glory. In the early nineties the Thunder had won five consecutive State Championships, the last four of which were in the first division. Everyone was hoping that this year would bring redemption to the fallen team. Homecoming was a rematch against the Titans and the Thunder needed to prove that their loss a few weeks ago was solely because of the freak accident involving their quarterback.
Zach Jacobs had inhaled smoke a few days before and still wasn’t back to a hundred percent. He had enjoyed the few days of fame, taking over Teddy Wexler and Nick Morrisey’s positions as home town hero, until he realized that it wasn’t fun to be incredibly winded at practice.
The parade was to take place before the game and the junior class float was still not complete. June was furious that Devon Valentine had been named Princess of the Junior class. She was to stand next to Zach during the parade. It made matters a whole lot worse when the blonde succubus had showed up after school to help finish the float. She was standing by the giant pile of tissue paper flowers, her hand on Zach’s shoulder, laughing far too often for June’s comfort. Zach, dressed in well-fitted boot cut jeans, a tight white screen printed t-shirt, and his Olympia Heights Senior High letterman jacket, didn’t seem to mind Devon’s purposeful touches. June had to go babysit.
“Hello,” she said so everyone could hear her approach. She stepped between Devon and Zach and started handing Zach flowers by the armful.
“Oh, hey June. Zach was just telling me the hilarious thing that happened in gym class today.”
“Really? Was it hilarious, Zach?” June glared at her boyfriend.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It was kind of funny.”
“I missed this story,” she looked between Devon and Zach. Devon was smiling. “Wanna catch me up?”
“Well-- er... Arthur Nelson was shooting off his mouth at Lewis today at lunch,” Zach began. Arthur was the team running back. “Making fun of Lewis because he’s not really on the team but he sits with us, calling him a groupie and telling him track isn’t a real sport because you just run in a circle.”
“So what, Arthur’s an idiot.” June didn’t see what was so funny.
“Well, next period was gym. The sophomores were playing lacrosse and my class was out on the field next to them running drills. So Lewis is in Arthur’s class, and he throws the ball under Nelson’s feet while he’s running. Art trips and sprains his wrist.”
“That’s not funny, someone got hurt! Who’s going to play in the game today?” Lewis was so irresponsible sometimes. It drove June mad when Zach encouraged his behavior.
“I’m not done yet. Lewis books it across the field, scoops up the ball before anyone on the other team can even touch it, scores. Coach Morin’s out there watching how fast he is, how quick his feet are... now Lewis is on the team in Arthur’s place.”
Okay, it was a little funny. Maybe more ironic than funny. But it was not a knee slapper as Devon had pretended. The stupid bimbo. June rolled her eyes. “Oh, well tell him I said congratulations.” June put the last of the flowers in his arms. “Go bring those to Keith and help him tie them to the frame, please. And Devon,” June said, stepping in front of Devon before she could reach to take some of the paper flowers off of Zach’s hands. “Wanna help me drape the thrones?” June handed her a stack of fabric before she could answer.
They started pinning white fabric to plain metal folding chairs atop the float. June pulled out two strips of cloth, one yellow and the other olive-green. In reality the color was more of an apple or lime, but the school called it olive.
“Ooh, can we put the green on mine? It’ll match my dress.” Devon tried to take the fabric panel but June held on tight.
“No, I’m putting it on Zach’s throne. He’s the captain of the team and it’s his favorite color.”
June started pinning. There was a moment’s peaceful silence before Devon played her next card. “Really? He told me it was red.”
“Excuse me?” June stopped pinning and looked over at Devon.
“Yeah, he came with me to find my dress. We met up at the food court and he offered to come along. I chose the green dress but he said red was his favorite.”
Devon clearly must have been lying. Zach never wanted to go to the mall with June. “No, that’s not right,” June assured her, “Zach doesn’t do shopping.”
“This was...” Devon pretended to search for the answer, “Saturday.”
June slammed a handful of pins down. “He told me he was playing Halo with the guys on Saturday.”
“I wonder why he would lie to you like that.” Devon shrugged. While June glared at Zach from across the track, Devon snatched the panel of green fabric and draped the princess throne.
Zach rode on the Junior class float in his Jersey and pads. After the parade he ran to the locker room to fetch his helmet and run out with the team. The Titans’ side of the stands stomped and booed as they were introduced, but they were drowned out by the clangor of the enthusiastic crowd from Olympia Heights.
The game started off in Miami West’s favor. Coach Morin, reluctant to put a brand new player into such an important game without practice, had let Arthur Nelson try his wrist for a few plays. Zach was still feeling a little wheezy from smoke inhalation and Frank looked nervous to tackle anyone.
When the second quarter started they were down fourteen to zero. Liam Morin made the decision to yank Nelson and throw in Lewis Mercer. Lewis took the ball on his first possession and ran like a greyhound chasing bacon straight into the end zone.
Miami caught on quickly to the game plan and put double coverage on Lewis. They weren’t going to let him touch the ball. Zach was sacked twice before half-time. In the locker-room at half-time, Coach Morin was livid.
“Jacobs, can you handle this or do I need to take you out?”
“I can do it.” Zach tried to take deep, slow breaths.
“Guerrero, why the hell aren’t you blocking these guys?”
Frank just stared with his sharp onyx eyes. He didn’t answer.
“Get in the game or I’m gonna take you out! Come on, guys. Mercer can’t help us if he can’t get the ball! Help him out!”
The rest of the team ran back out after water and a verbal beat down. Zach grabbed Frank and held him back.
“I know you’re afraid of hurting someone,” he said. “I am too, that’s why I go right down when they come at me.” Zach knew that Frank was privy to his special ability. There was no sense in pretending they didn’t know about each other. “So let’s make a deal. We both have got to t
ake some risks out there or let someone else in the game.”
Frank just stared at Zach. He didn’t know what to say.
“You with me, Frank? We stop being cowards and play some football?”
Frank’s jaw tightened. His fist clenched. “Call me a coward again and I’ll crack your skull, Lightning.”
Zach grinned. “Alright, let’s play football!”
The game picked up fast. Frank was throwing Titans out of his path. Zach ducked and dodged anyone who came through, passed to Lewis, and let him work his magic. Once he had the ball he was unstoppable. A few times he tripped so clumsily that it seemed almost like a clown bit. The fans began to wonder if he was trying to keep it a close game. By fourth quarter Olympia Heights was up twenty-three to seventeen. It would have been a landslide in their favor if only their defense was half as good as the offense. It began to rain.
“Alright,” Coach Morin gathered everyone for a huddle at time out, “I think Jacobs may have to share the nickname ‘Lightning’ with Mercer here.”
“Nah, it doesn’t fit him as well” Zach winked at Lewis. Lewis was his best friend, he’d told Lewis his secret soon after he’d confided in June.
“Okay, so we’re gonna run play twenty-three. That means Jacobs will fake back like he’s gonna throw to Johnson and the hand off will go to you, Mercer. You just need to cut in on his left and be ready to pluck the ball high from his hands. Got it?”
Lewis nodded.
“Alright,” the young coach clapped his hands together. “Let’s get it done.”
The cheerleading squad was out in front of the stands revving up the crowd. They stomped on the bleachers, making the sound of thunder.
Frank lined up for the snap. One of the Titans’ linemen made a false start that the referee didn’t catch in the downpour. With the head start he slammed into Frank just as he was snapping the ball. The minute shock of the skinny kid crashing into the goliath, Frank, caused the ball to go off to Zach’s right. Zach juggled it, trying to get control. Lewis zipped past him on the left. A Titan was on Zach, diving into the quarterback’s side, putting his shoulder into the blow.
Zach felt a rib crack with the weight of the player. He shouted as the pain shot through him and then what he had feared the most occurred. There was another crack, audible for miles. Zach saw a simultaneous spark originating at the tips of his fingers and spreading into a blinding flash of white light. Lightning had struck the same place twice.
“Shit!” he shouted as he pushed himself to his feet. The senior Titan that had broken his ribs was shaking and crying, his feet burnt. He was conscious, to Zach’s relief. The referee looked at Zach as if he were a ghost. Nobody should have been standing up after that lightning strike.
The EMT on duty rushed the field. Zach pushed him away. “I’m fine, go help him.” He wasn’t fine. He had a broken rib. Zach intended to finish the game and see a doctor later. If he told them now, he would be yanked from play.
Lewis ran to Zach and lowered his voice, “Jesus, Zach. What happened?”
“I’ve got a broken rib,” he whispered through gritted teeth. The whole team was on the field now. Dr. Livingstone came out from the stands to help and dragged Zach to the locker room to be examined without the pressing crowds.
June couldn’t see anything from the stands. She’d hoped maybe Zach was a little crazy when he told her he had made lightning from his hands. Now she knew he was serious.
Dr. Livingstone sat Zach down on a bench in the locker room to check his hands and feet for burns. When he looked up from the bottoms of Zach’s cleats he noticed him wincing as he shifted his torso. “I need to look at your ribs.”
“No,” Zach said, shaking his head, “you don’t, I’m fine.”
“Zach,” Jason said. “I’m not going to ignore a potentially serious injury so that you can play football. Do you know what an embolism is?”
Zach shook his head.
“It’s when a fragment of something, like fat tissue leaking from a broken bone, travels through the bloodstream until it gets stuck and creates a blockage. If you don’t know about it and go to a doctor, your heart stops and someone finds you the next morning, blue. I need to look at your ribs.”
Zach huffed and started taking his pads off.
Dr. Livingstone sent for Zach’s mom while Zach pulled off his compression shirt. His entire left side was quickly turning black and blue. “Between this, the lightning, and the fact that you’re still wheezing, I’d say you’re done.”
“But we’re winning.”
“You’ve given them enough of a lead to hold on and win it without you.” Jason went to the water fountain and filled a cup for Zach. “If you want any chance of playing as a senior and getting a scholarship, you’ll quit while you’re ahead and recuperate, Lightning.”
Zach’s mother came rushing in. As soon as she saw the bruising she insisted that he take the ambulance ride to the hospital. June wasn’t allowed to ride along. Zach shouted over his mother’s shoulder as he was dragged into the back, “Stay! Videotape it for me!”
It took an hour for the field to be completely cleared and for everyone to return to their seats. Coach Morin let June shoot from the bench. The tension was considerably higher as the game finally resumed. Zach’s backup was a freshman. He rarely got to play. He just had to last two more minutes and keep the score as it was. Miami still had a realistic chance. Six points were easy to earn inside the two-minute warning. It was still Olympia Heights game to lose.
Morin put Frank out on defense with the order to plow and sack like his life depended on it. The Miami West players soon learned that they had to get the ball and run faster than Frank or they were going to be very sore in the morning. After one minute they managed to get into field goal range and punted it clear through the uprights. There was now only a three-point spread.
The play was simple: hand the ball to Lewis, let him run. It took two tries with the second-string quarterback’s petrified, shaky hands, before Frank could hold off the defense long enough for Lewis to find a gap and run. Touch down. Forty seconds left.
The crowds began to sing, clapping and stomping to add their own percussion. They weren’t cheering for the quarterback. It was Mercer. “Louie Louie, oh no,” the song dissolved into mumbles as nobody seemed to know any of the other lyrics. Still, they sang with conviction.
Coach Morin put Frank on defense again, using him wherever he could to keep them on top. Frank made four consecutive sacks and on Olympia Heights’ next offensive play, they took a knee and waited out the clock. They had won.
June was the first one out of the parking lot. She could forget the homecoming dance. Zach needed her. Devon Valentine could molest whoever she wanted at the party afterwards; at least June knew Zach wouldn’t be her target.
“Men trust their ears less than their eyes.”
-Herodotus
xii.
The small child walked backwards up the mountain pass.
The cattle followed dumbly, backwards as well.
He grinned, so content with himself as he walked.
The old man watched him.
When it was done he went to the cave and slept.
He was only a baby and needed rest.
The others came looking for him in the night
but could not find him.
They followed the hoof print tracks to no avail,
tracing them as they pointed down the mountain.
The old man gestured to the mouth of the cave.
The men doubted him.
The infant woke when the firelight hit his face.
“Where did you hide them,” they all bellowed at him.
Their master seemed to glow like the blushing dawn
even in the dark.
The infant’s large brown eyes twinkled with laughter
and he taunted them with his feigned innocence.
With a comic shrug he spoke naught of the cows,
“Me? I’m just a
child.”
“The gods, too, are fond of a joke.”
-Aristotle
XII.
Lewis Mercer sat on the end of his bed and laced up his lime green Chuck Taylor All Stars. It was mid-December, too cold for gym shorts, so he wore dark brown track pants with his green Olympia Heights Senior High Athletics Department t-shirt.
Lewis had straight blonde hair that stuck out at odd angles and warm brown eyes. He was skinny and of average height. He was a runner.
Lewis grabbed a cereal bar and his backpack before running out the front door. Half way to school he caught up with Diana Hill. She and her brother, Astin, shared a truck, but she preferred to run. Diana and Lewis, both being sophomores, had most of their classes together. Diana was the second fastest runner on the track and field team. Third was a junior, Ryan Bear. Diana wasn’t as fast as Lewis-- that was the understatement of the year-- but she dominated him on the hurdles.
“Hey, Hill!” he called, as he ran up behind her.
“I was wondering when you’d catch up,” she teased.
“Oh you know I can beat you any day. I could wake up late and still beat you there.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Sleep in again?”
“When have I ever been up on time? I had a really weird dream this morning.”
“Yeah?”
“I was a baby and I was herding cows.”
She wrinkled her nose, “Maybe you should decrease your sugar intake before bed, Lew.”
They stopped at the crosswalk in front of the school, waiting as traffic zipped by in a selfish hurry to get into the coffee shop before homeroom started. Diana watched a pair of pigeons. Lewis watched her. He was a sixteen year old boy and she was hot. He couldn’t help but notice.
The Pantheon Page 10
