The Fraternity Files

by Stephanie Joeline Kerfoot

  Matt was extremely fond of all his brothers, and he was sorry this whole thing had happened. He had not wanted to punish Danny and Ryan, but in the end he had felt it was necessary to place the responsibility back on them. By punishing them, he had put an end to any possible protests they might have otherwise made when more serious consequences were handed down. There would be pleading and begging for sure, and the scene would be plenty emotional, but there would be no bitter sense of injustice to get in the way of their relationship with Steve. They would remember exactly whose impulsive actions were to blame. With the punishment he had given his little brothers tonight, Matt had paved the way for the healing they all so desperately needed, and he had also set the tone for the summons Danny

  and Ryan would inevitably receive.

  Ryan and Danny were both crying softly still as Matt pulled the blankets up over them. He explained his position once again, gently, said some soothing words to both of them and then left them to cry themselves to sleep as he turned off the light and closed the door softly behind him.

  Finally, the night was over. He checked on Kevin who was still sleeping soundly, and then made his way down to Steve’s room. A rare peace had settled over the house, and for the moment all was quiet. There was a long way to go yet, and a great deal of emotion to be worked through, but in those early morning hours of deep and dreamless slumber the healing had finally begun.

  Folder Two: The Healing

  File One: The Disappearance

  File Two: The Quandary

  File Three: The Consequence

  File Four: The Melt Down

  File Five: The Search

  File Six: The Talk

  File Seven: The Admonishment

  File Eight: The Reprieve

  File Nine: The Talk (Reiterated)

  File Ten: The Reconciliation

  File Eleven: The Portent

  File One

  The Disappearance

  "Life only demands from you the strength that you possess. Only one feat is possible; not to run away. "

  -Dag Hammarskjöld

  "Life moves on, whether we act as cowards or heroes. Life has no other discipline to impose, if we would but realize it, than to accept life unquestioningly. Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems nasty, painful, evil, can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such."

  -Henry Miller

  “WHERE . . .IS . . .KRAMER???????????”

  The young quarterback for the Saber Bend Bulldogs was just about to release the ball when the loud booming voice of the head coach rang out and caused it to slip from his hand. The ball fell uselessly to the turf and the next moment the quarterback coach was in his face.

  “What in the hell was that, Lockheart? What!? You can’t hold onto the ball all of a sudden?!” Danny was looking now towards the rampaging head coach at the opposite end of the field and Coach Ricks followed his distracted gaze. “What in the hell are you looking at? What’s wrong with you!?” he demanded with somewhat sincere amazement. Danny was a star. In fact, he was THE star of the team (second only to Kevin Kramer), and he was known best for his poise on the field and his collected head. He was not normally rattled by anything, least of all the screaming of the coaches, so what had distracted him now? “That end of the field does not concern you! Do you hear me?” the coach continued. “This end of the field and that

  ball should be the only two things concerning you right now and if you don’t get your mind back where it’s supposed to be both those things are going to be concerning you in a much more intrusive way! Are we clear!?”

  “Yes, Coach,” Danny replied automatically.

  “All right then! Let’s try that again. This time, hold onto the God Damn ball until you’re sure you know where it’s going.”

  “Yes Sir,” Danny replied again quietly and the coach moved aside. Danny’s hands shook just slightly as he picked the ball off the ground and as he stood up he met the concerned eyes of his two most reliable wide receivers. Danny tried a slight smile to reassure them, but it was no use, and he bit his lip as he brought the ball into his chest, and turned away. He snuck another look at the head coach who was storming his way towards the practice squad now, and he swallowed. He looked for Jesse among the running backs, meeting his best friend’s panicked eyes briefly before necessity forced him to look once more at his receivers. The same two players who had met his eyes before stepped up now, their concern obviously increasing as they willed him with their eyes to remain calm. They knew exactly what Danny Lockheart’s problem was and for the rest of the practice they would catch whatever he threw, no matter what kind of acrobatics was needed to accomplish the feat.

  “Delane! Hanson!” the head coach snapped now. “Get out here!” The ranks of the practice squad parted and the two freshmen were shoved forward by their lemming like teammates. “Where is he?” The coach continued his frightening tirade as they stood tremulously in front of him. “And don’t tell me you don’t know! The three of you are as thick as thieves!” He was definitely pushing the boundaries of personal space now and Alex Delane blanched as James Hanson’s face flushed with indignation.

  “He’s sick, Sir,” Alex replied timidly.

  “Bullshit! That’s Bullshit, Delane! Don’t you feed me that crap! You think I was born yesterday?!” The coach aimed all his ire in Alex’s direction now and Alex shrank against James. “You pansy! Stand up straight when I’m talking to you!” Alex, with obvious chagrin, did as requested, and James’ fists curled into balls at his side as his face turned still a deeper shade of red. “WHERE IS HE?!”

  “Alex is telling you the truth, Coach,” James interjected. “Kevin is sick!”

  “Horseshit!” The coach redirected his gaze to James, but James did not shrink. He met the coach’s blazing eyes head on. “It has been over a week!” Coach Becket snapped. “If he was that sick, he’d be in the hospital or dead! Now you tell me where he is, or you two jokers are going to spend the rest of this practice running the bleachers! You have three seconds!” James clenched his fists tightly, and Alex swallowed. “One!” Kevin’s two friends remained silent. “Two!” James lost some of his color, and Alex pressed close to him once more. “Three! Coach Anderson!” The head coach summoned the assistant practice squad coach, and the militaristic young man stepped forward. He couldn’t have been more than 28 but he was already hardened and had a somewhat sadistic look about him.

  “Sir?”

  “Wear their asses out!” the coach commanded.

  “Yes, Sir!” Anderson returned smartly, leering at Alex and James. “Let’s go, gentlemen! It’s bleacher time!” James and Alex hesitated momentarily and the young coach took James roughly by the shoulder, shoving him in the direction of the bleachers, and Alex after him. “Let’s go! Move!” he barked as the two disgraced freshmen broke into a sprint before him. Anyone who saw the gleam in Anderson’s eyes at that moment would have known that he needed only a bullwhip in his hand to make him happier.

  Despite the best efforts of the other coaches, all play had come to a standstill now and all eyes were on Coach Becket as he broke the unnatural silence that had descended. “Lockheart, Sanderson, Jankowski! Get your asses over here!” A rash of whispering broke out and spread up and down both sidelines as everyone shifted their gaze to where the quarterback had been practicing with his five wide receivers.

  Three of the players in question were relatively unaffected though they shifted anxiously as all their teammates looked their way. Danny, on the other hand, swallowed hard and cursed under his breath, seeking once more the eyes of his two remaining receivers. They were both pale now, but their expressions were still reassuring. They met Danny’s eyes and Ryan held his arm out to him. They were in this together and that was how they would get through it. It h
ad been a long time since any of the three stars had been made to run the bleachers as punishment and now in a matter of moments they fully expected to be joining their younger counterparts. Danny made his way over to his big brother, heaving a sigh as Ryan’s hand settled bracingly on his shoulder. Anderson was no joke. He wouldn’t stop until they were all sick on their knees vomiting or passed out from exhaustion. Ryan squeezed his shoulder as if reading his mind, and slowly, they started forward, their friends watching miserably from a distance as Kevin Kramer’s three big brothers trudged desolately down the field to face the irate coach.

  “Well, well, well, Kramer’s three guardian angels . . .,” the coach started as Danny Ryan, and Steve formed a line in front of him. “I have to tell you boys, I’m starting to lose my patience here . . . in fact this whole business of our star running back not showing up for practice . . .I gotta tell ya, it’s starting to piss me off!” The coach had been pacing up and down in front of them, but now he stopped and looked at them. “Take those damn helmets off!” he snapped. The three players quickly acquiesced, letting their helmets dangle as they did their best to meet the coach’s eyes without flinching. Coach Beckett was a very scary man when he was truly angry and ‘angry’ didn’t quite come close to describing the feelings of the man now glaring at them. “That’s better,” the coach approved, looking now by turns into the eyes of each of his three veteran players. “Now as long as you boys continue to follow directions and answer my questions with the same degree of cooperation you just displayed, we’re all going to be just fine; this will be very easy.” The three players in front of him shifted uneasily, trying not to look at each other. “Now,” Coach Beckett persisted, pretending not to notice their obvious discomfort, “what is that little pet name you three have for our young friend?” Tentatively, Danny risked a sidelong glance at Ryan. Ryan caught it and tightened his grip on his little brother’s shoulder. “‘Kevie’ or ‘Kev’bo,’ or something? That’s it, ‘Kev’bo.’”

  There was some noticeable snickering, pushing, and jostling along the sidelines where Gregg Mcarthy and his followers had positioned themselves

  to view, from the best vantage point possible, the scourging the three team favorites were about to get. “Kevie,” Gregg called in a high pitched voice. “Kevie, Oh Kevie, where are you? Save us, Kevie! Save us!” More laughter followed.

  Some of Danny, Ryan, and Steve’s friends responded with insults and threats of their own, and some extracurricular shoving broke out along the sideline that was soon broken up by the coaches. All the activity was ignored, however, by Coach Beckett and Kevin’s three brothers. Carefully, Danny, Ryan, and Steve kept their eyes on the coach as he continued to pace in front of them. “All I want to know, boys,” the coach stopped and looked at them once more, “is where our little Kev’bo is and why he hasn’t been coming to practice? It’s simple really, just a very simple question. Jankowski?” He looked at Steve.

  “Alex told you, Coach,” Steve replied coolly, “Kevin’s been sick.” “My ASS!” The coach grabbed Steve by the collar, pressing his face right into his. “Now, I am done playing games! Kramer has missed a week’s worth of practices and two games! We lost for the first time since the beginning of the season last week, and we came damn close to losing yesterday too! We have worked hard as a team all season to get here and it is the first time in ten years we have made it this far! It’s been ten years, Jankowski, since the Bulldogs had a chance to get to the Championship, and all our hopes are riding on that kid! I do not intend to lose this opportunity, so one of you three boys had better start talking! NOW!” He gave Steve a little shake before shoving him away, and Steve brought his hand to his throat, rubbing the red mark the coach had left. His face was ashen now, but his eyes remained steadily on the coach, and his mouth was firmly set in a stubborn line. “No?!” the coach demanded. “Not convinced?” He shifted his eyes to Danny. “What about you, Lockheart? You care to help yourself by talking?” Danny bit hard on his lip, but remained silent. “Sanderson?” Coach Beckett looked last of all at Ryan with no further success, and he turned away, running his hand through his thinning hair in exasperation. “All right then, boys,” he said finally, turning to glare at them once more, and looking from one stubbornly set pair of eyes to another. “The three of you are done for the day! Hit the showers, and meet me in my office in fifteen minutes!”

  “Yes, Sir!” they chorused.

  “All right, go on!” the coach ordered, and his three disgraced players hung their heads for the first time as they quietly started in the direction of the locker room. “Mcarthy!” They heard behind them. “Go in for Lockheart!” Tears stung Danny’s eyes, and Ryan looked worriedly at his little brother as Danny subtly swiped at his cheeks. Football was Danny’s life, his passion, his heart. Steve knew it too and he came up on Danny’s other side as they heard the coach behind them calling in replacements for Ryan and Steve.

  “I’m sorry, Dan,” Steve said quietly. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. You were right. I should have listened to you.”

  Danny pressed his fingers to his eyes. “It’s not your fault,” he managed quietly after a minute. Danny was not the kind of person who would ever dream of saying, ‘I told you so,’ to his big brothers, at least not in the face of a sincere apology. But this was exactly the situation he had been afraid of. ‘I fucking knew this would happen!’ he thought darkly now as they continued to walk. ‘I absolutely fucking knew it!’

  File Two

  The Quandary

  "Life is a constant oscillation between the sharp horns of a dilemma."

  -H.L. Mencken

  “See everything, overlook a great deal, correct a little.”

  - Pope John XXIII

  It had all started the night after the meeting. They had just played their last regular game of the season. Kevin hadn’t played (not that anyone would have asked him to) and they had lost for the first time since the beginning of the season (before Kevin was a starter on the team). They had planned the meeting, as usual, around the last few weeks of the semester, so there would be ample time for Kevin to get his act together and pass his classes. The football season by that time was traditionally winding down for them, anyway. The last game never made any difference to anything but the pride of the team. They had honestly not thought about the possibility that they might be in contention for the Championship, and had certainly not counted on the important role Kevin would play in getting them there. It had been a long time since the team had so much riding on a mere freshman, a rookie!

  When Danny, Ryan, and Steve finally began to see the direction things were taking, they talked about it, but there didn’t seem to be anything they could do. Kevin was sinking academically. He needed help. He needed their guidance, and that was what they were there for. They cared more about him than they did about the Championship, and the tradition needed to be upheld. So, they had proceeded with the meeting as planned, knowing that Kevin would not play in the game the following day. Their belief was, however, that he would be recovered enough to participate in the remaining two games that followed.

  After that first game, Ryan, Danny, and Steve had returned to the house hot, tired, and frustrated, to find that Kevin had, as requested, turned in his version of the rules he had been set along with a copy of his schedule. He had left the two pieces of paper in an envelope that he had slid under Ryan’s door. He had addressed it: ‘To: the wardens of Rho Beta Chi (Kigh) From: The prisoner in cell 17,’ and the three brothers had gathered in Ryan’s room (which Danny and Ryan were now sharing) to discuss it.

  “What do you think?” Steve looked at Ryan and Ryan shifted uncomfortably as Danny too looked his way. He hated always being in the middle. He looked down again at the two pieces of paper laid out on the bed before them. ‘Their impish little brother,’ he simpered as he thought of Kevin, ‘the cause of all this discord as usual.’ This time, though, it was not Kevin’s cheekiness that was causing the problem. After all, t
hey had agreed, with everything their kid brother had been through, they had to cut him some amount of slack. The problem was that Kevin had dutifully laid out every second of his day for the next three weeks, including 15 minute ‘piss breaks’ scheduled intermittently throughout each day. His class times were there as requested, and his study times, but nowhere had he included the scheduled practice times for the team.

  “Do you think he forgot?” Steve inquired of Danny, hopefully as Ryan continued his silent musing.

  “No!” Danny snorted. “The kid eats, sleeps, and breathes football.”

  “Do you think he didn’t put them on because he knows we know them already?” Ryan asked quietly.

  Danny shook his head. “He’s trying to get back at us,” he returned softly. “Specifically, he’s trying to get back at me, and he knows this is the best way.” Ryan and Steve frowned as they met their little brother’s eyes. It was what they had suspected also, but they had been hoping Danny would have another theory. “He doesn’t intend to go,” Danny confirmed their worst fears in the quietest voice imaginable. For a moment, there was silence.

  “Ok, then,” Steve finally spoke. “The next question is what do we do about it? Do we make it an issue or not?”

  “I think we have to,” Danny returned.

  “I don’t know if I can, Dan,” Steve admitted. “I told him I just wanted to know he was getting to class and doing his work. I want to pick my battles. Right now his grades are the priority. I don’t want to make practice an issue only to have class and study time become one. We’ve all been emphasizing how there’s more to life than football, how he needs to take those other parts of his life seriously . . . .”