The Fraternity Files

by Stephanie Joeline Kerfoot

  “I know what we said, Steve!” Danny interjected. “But football IS his life. It’s his schooling! He’s on fucking scholarship for Christ’s sakes!”

  “I know, Danny! But if he doesn’t want to play, I don’t feel like we can make him! If he doesn’t get his grades up, the football will be a moot point anyway! Maybe he doesn’t feel he can handle all the studying and practice too.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it!” Danny glowered. “That’s his stress release! He loves playing! We’re not allowing him to do anything else! This next three weeks is going to kill him without football!”

  “That is his choice to make, though, Dan!” Steve returned somewhat heatedly.

  “But he’s not thinking straight, Steve! He’s just thinking how he can best hurt me! He’s not thinking about what’s good for him right now!” Steve pursed his lips as he looked at his passionate little brother. Danny did have a point. “What will Coach say?” Danny continued after a minute in a quieter tone as he looked at Steve’s face, hopefully. “You think he’s just going to let his star player disappear, no questions asked, three weeks before the Championship?”

  Steve remained quiet for a minute, thinking over what Danny had said. Finally, he looked at Ryan. “What do you think?” he whispered once more. Ryan had, up until now, remained silent, hoping that his opinion would not have to be the deciding factor. He chewed his lip as he looked thoughtfully down at the paper before him.

  “I definitely understand the point Danny is making,” he started quietly after a minute, “BUT,” he continued hurriedly before his little brother could celebrate, “I think we would be very wise to pick our battles right now.”

  Ryan raised his eyes and flinched at Danny’s accusing expression. “Steve’s right, Danny,” he said softly. “Kevin’s academics are the priority right now. They have to be.”

  “Fine!” Danny sulked, looking away. An awkward silence passed and then Danny got up and made his way to the door. “You guys are making a huge mistake!” he groused, glowering at his brothers once more as he opened it. “Huge!” he repeated, and he stepped into the hallway, shutting the door hard behind him. Even then, Steve and Ryan had each wondered privately if their little brother might be right. Now, they knew that he had been.

  File Three

  The Consequence

  "A gentleman accepts the responsibility of his actions and bears the burden of their consequences."

  - William Faulkner

  "What is the point? We assume that every time we do anything we know what the consequences will be, i.e., more or less what we intend them to be. This is not only not always correct. It is wildly, crazily, stupidly, cross-eyed-blithering-insectly wrong!"

  -Douglas Adams (The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide: Five Complete Novels and One Short Story)

  Fully showered and changed now, the three young men waited tensely in the coach’s office for him to return. They said little and avoided one another’s eyes. They were each privately preoccupied with their own thoughts, and Ryan and Steve especially were battling with the feelings of repentant guilt that overwhelmed them. Finally, Coach Beckett entered. It had been considerably more than fifteen minutes by that time that the boys had been fretting. He came in quietly and closed the door. Danny and Ryan were sitting in the two chairs in front of the coach’s desk. Steve was sitting in the chair against the wall behind them. They all stood as the coach entered, but he waved them back to their seats, and Steve dragged his chair forward to sit beside his brothers.

  Without a word, or more than a glance in their direction, the coach threw his playbook on the desk, and hung his hat and jacket on the coat rack in the corner. Danny, Ryan, and Steve watched him tensely, and finally he turned to look at them. He regarded them seriously as he sat in the chair behind his desk. His anger was gone. These were three of his favorite players, ever, both on and off the field. Their skill on the field and their compassion and empathy for others off the field had from the beginning won them his admiration. Not all the boys that made up his team had earned his respect the same way these three had; the same way the fraternity president’s brothers always did.

  Coach Beckett had been at the university a long time now, nearly twenty years, and he had seen countless numbers of boys come and go. The finest of them were always the president’s brothers, and for years the coach had known why; that is, he had at least suspected, and never really wanted to admit to himself that he knew what went on at the end of the first semester every year in the Rho Beta Chi (Kigh) house. Never before had he had occasion to question it, and it was just easier to close his eyes. He sighed now as he looked at Danny, Ryan, and Steve. “He’s the one isn’t he?” he asked quietly.

  The blood drained from Steve’s face, and he glanced at his two brothers. Surely, the coach was not asking what he seemed to be asking. “Sorry, Coach,” Steve replied tightly after a minute, “but who’s the one?” His heart pounded.

  Danny and Ryan were looking pale again too now as the coach repeated, “Kevin. Kevin’s the one isn’t he?”

  Steve swallowed hard. “Sorry, Coach. I still don’t get what you mean,” he replied trying to keep his voice steady. “Kevin’s the one, what?”

  “All right, now look! Let’s just cut the crap here!” the coach snapped impatiently. “You know what I mean!” He glared steadily at all of them. “You all know EXACTLY what I mean! I know what goes on in that house! I know how things are ‘handled.’ I’ve seen too many bruises in my many years coaching this team to doubt it! I do not approve!” he stated emphatically as he continued to stare into the eyes of the three astounded young men. “I do not approve, have not in the past approved, and will not approve in the future!” He paused and Danny, Ryan, and Steve just stared at him in disbelieving horror. “However,” he finally went on, “I have never before found any reason to question it either. Never have the young men affected, in the long run, seemed worse for wear, and it is undeniable that in some cases lives have been literally pulled out of the toilet and turned around. Young men who I feared in their freshmen year were destined for disaster have gone on to be Valedictorian and class president, and it would be unfair if I did not acknowledge that the beginning of the change was

  always traceable to whatever goes on in that house! Never, however, have I ever had a kid miss practice for a week in a row because of that nonsense, and so help me if I find out that Kevin Kramer’s absence now is due to the amount of injury inflicted on him . . . .”

  “NO!” All three of the brothers responded, horrified, cutting the coach off.

  “You’ve got it wrong, Coach,” Steve repeated quietly. “We would never hurt Kevin or do anything that wasn’t for his benefit, ultimately. He just needs some time to sort things out.”

  The coach was quiet for a moment. “I hope that’s the case,” he replied quietly. “I certainly do hope so. That being said, the team needs him! It’s been ten years since we’ve gotten this far, and we’re all relying on Kevin.” Kevin’s brothers were quiet for a moment, and the coach bit his lip. What he had to do next, he did not want to do, but he felt he had no choice. “I’m afraid, boys,” he began quietly at last, “that until I see some evidence that Kevin is ok, until he returns to practice and starts working out with the team once more, until that time, I’m afraid the three of you are done playing football for me.”

  “What!?” Danny exclaimed. “Coach, that’s not fair! Please! Kevin is fine. He’s going to be fine; he just needs some time. Please don’t do this! Please! The Championship is two games away! If we lose this next game, we’re out! Coach, please!”

  “I’ve made up my mind, Danny,” Coach Beckett returned evenly. “You boys may come to practice, you may change, but until Kevin is back on that field and I am certain he is ok, you will not step a single foot on the turf again. When I am satisfied that Kevin is ok, I will review the situation and reconsider my position. If I am not convinced, shortly, however, that all is well, the ban from the t
eam will be the least of your worries. If Kevin Kramer is not back on the field within the week, I promise you, I will go to the college authorities and let them know my suspicions.”

  Steve, Danny, and Ryan gaped at him. ‘Surely he wasn’t serious.’ But the coach’s expression promised them that he was indeed as serious as he could be.

  “It’s not fair!” Danny protested.

  “I’m sorry . . .,” Coach Beckett began.

  “This sucks!” Danny slammed his hand on the desk and without waiting to be dismissed, shoved his chair back and headed for the door.

  “Danny!” Ryan tried to call him back, but Danny was already gone. Ryan looked quickly at the coach, wanting to be respectful, but worried about his little brother’s state of mind.

  “Go on,” Coach Beckett authorized quietly, and swiftly Ryan followed his brother.

  “Sorry,” Steve offered softly when his brothers were gone. “You know how Danny is about football.”

  “I know,” the coach responded compassionately. After all, football was his life too. The fraternity president and the coach continued to eye one another for a moment, understanding one another’s position even if they didn’t agree with one another. Sometimes, being in charge meant making unpopular decisions and doing things you didn’t want to do. “Go on,” Coach Beckett said finally, “your brothers need you.” Steve nodded and without a word or a backward glance, he made his way to the door.

  File Four

  The Melt Down

  “What Strange Creatures Brothers Are.”

  -Jane Austen

  “Can I come in?” Ryan asked softly. The door to Danny’s room (where Kevin was currently staying) was ajar, and Danny stood motionless in the middle of the room. He did not respond to Ryan or acknowledge him in any way. Without waiting for an invitation, Ryan quietly moved further into the room and saw, as he came up behind his little brother that Danny was holding what looked like several little pieces of torn paper in his hands. “What have you got there . . .?” Ryan started, but as Danny turned to face him he recognized with horror what those pieces of paper had been. “Oh, Dan,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.” Danny’s face crumpled, and Ryan folded his arms around him, holding him tight. “I’m sorry, Bud! I’m so sorry!”

  “He hates me!” Danny sobbed, burying his face on Ryan’s shoulder as he clutched the pieces of the torn picture tighter. It was his favorite picture of himself and Kevin, taken after their first win this year.

  “He doesn’t hate you,” Ryan assured quietly. “He is angry, hurt, and frustrated and you are the closest person to him.” Danny just continued to sob. “Do you have the negatives?” Ryan whispered. Danny barely nodded against his shoulder and Ryan breathed an inward sigh of relief. “I was going to suggest that you take that picture out, but we got busy with all the other stuff and I forgot. He’s just lashing out, Danny. He’ll get over it. You’ll see.” Danny just continued to cling to him and Ryan held him, letting his chin drop to the top of his little brother’s head. “Come on,” he said quietly after a minute when Danny had still not calmed down, “get the negatives and come with me. I want to show you something.” At first Danny did not respond and Ryan squeezed his shoulder, holding him for another minute before he prodded gently, “Come on, Bro.” Ryan’s patient, calm authority finally penetrated Danny’s grief, and taking a deep breath, he dutifully pulled away from his brother and made his way over to his desk.

  His shoulders heaved as he searched through the bottom right hand drawer, but finally, he found the waterproof container that contained all his negatives. He took the box in his hand and turned to face Ryan once more, starting to sob harder again as he encountered the warm comprehending expression on his big brother’s face. “It’s all right,” Ryan encouraged, moving quickly to put his arm around him. “Come on.” He gently took the box from Danny’s hand and guided him from the room, closing the door softly behind them, and steering his little brother towards the room they were currently sharing down the hall. He took his hand off Danny’s shoulder just long enough to dig his key out of his pocket and open the door. He then nudged his brother inside and gently pushed the door shut behind them. Danny made instantly for his bed, throwing himself down and burying his face. He was still clutching the pieces of the picture Kevin had torn, and Ryan sighed.

  Silently, he contemplated his little brother as he set the box of negatives on his desk. He opened the top drawer and slowly withdrew a worn and tattered picture of his own. Wistfully, he smiled down at it and then, keeping it in his hand, he approached the bed where Danny lay clutching the pillows. He sat down next to him and wordlessly, without looking up, Danny made room for him.

  “I have something to show you,” Ryan gently repeated his earlier assertion.

  “What is it?” Danny demanded petulantly.

  “Well you have to look, dingwit!” Ryan chided affectionately. Finally, Danny looked at him and Ryan held the picture up so he could see.

  “Yeah, so?” Danny questioned bitterly. “What’s so special about that? It’s the same stupid picture you have in the frame over there on the desk. The same one I have too . . .”

  “Look closer,” Ryan encouraged.

  Danny brushed in frustration at his cheeks, but he did as his brother requested, trying hard to see the picture through his blurry eyes. “I don’t get it!” he protested. “I mean it’s a great picture, but what’s the big deal?”

  Ryan stared at him in disbelief. “You really don’t remember, do you?”

  “Remember what?” Danny demanded.

  “Look again,” Ryan urged.

  “Come on, Ry! Just tell me! I really don’t want to play this game right now!”

  “I can’t believe it!” Ryan couldn’t help laughing. “You don’t remember! You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and you really don’t remember a thing!”

  “What are you talking about?!” Danny cried again in exasperation.

  “You tore this up in front of me, Danny!”

  “I did?” Danny looked confused.

  “Yes,” Ryan laughed again. “See the tape?” Danny looked closer and finally saw where all the torn and ragged edges were lovingly placed back together in the very best repair job a roll of scotch tape could do. “You threw one holy fit! Told me you hated me (that was actually the nicest thing you said), you ripped the picture right off the wall where I had taped it and tore it into as many tiny pieces as it would go! You scattered them on the floor, told me you’d never speak to me again and then stomped out of the room. I was still crawling around on the floor an hour later, trying to find every last piece when Steve finally found me. He helped me put it back together and I saved it for just this occasion,” Ryan finished quietly. “I can’t believe you don’t remember!” he chuckled once more. Danny turned his face back into the pillow. He was quieter now, but he was still crying and still clutching the pieces of his own torn picture.

  “Let me see, Bud,” Ryan laid the picture of himself and Danny on the bed and gently took the pieces of torn photo from Danny’s hand. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to piece it together on the bed in front of him. Finally, however, he smiled a little. “It’s not that bad, Dan,” he assured quietly. “We can put it back together.”

  “Who cares?!” Danny sobbed. “I can always redevelop the picture, but what’s the point? He hates me! All I was going to do was talk to him! See if I could get him to come back, you know? But he wasn’t even there! I was going to just leave him a note and then I found those on the floor! I know he hates me, Ryan! I know he does! Maybe if I leave the team, he’ll come back!”

  “And how is that going to solve anything?” Ryan asked quietly.

  “The team will win their game. The Bulldogs will be champions. Kevin will be a hero. He’ll be happy . . . .”

  “Stop it!” Ryan snapped in a tone of such uncharacteristic severity that Danny raised his head from the pillows to look at him, swiping at his tears. “Do
you really believe that the team will win without you, or even that we’d want to?” Danny shrugged, still brushing at his eyes. “This is your team, Dan! Kevin is my brother too and I care about him. I want him to come out of this snit he’s in as much as anybody, but if I had to choose there would be no contest! Your leaving the team will not solve anything . . . .”

  “I don’t know what to do, Ryan! I just don’t know what to do!” Danny sobbed in frustration, placing his face back down in the pillows.

  Ryan placed a hand on his back and was quiet for a minute. “It’s going to be ok, Danny,” he whispered at last. “You’ll see . . . .” At that moment there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Ryan called.

  “It’s me,” the quiet voice stated from the other side of the door. Feeling relieved, Ryan gathered the pieces of Danny’s picture in his hand and then got up to open the door. Steve entered quietly, taking in the scene without comment. Ryan showed him the pieces of picture and Steve took them in his hand, biting his lip to keep back the slight smirk that played at the corners of his mouth as he tried to piece them together. Finally he looked up again at his little brother. “What goes around comes around, eh?” he intimated in a tone Danny was unlikely to hear. Ryan didn’t respond, and after a moment Steve made his way over to the bed as his little brother softly closed the door. With a delighted little laugh, Steve picked up the other picture as he sat down and he looked at Ryan once more. “You saved it huh? Good call,” he commented wryly.

  “He doesn’t remember,” Ryan returned a little sheepishly.

  “No?” Steve chuckled. “You don’t remember, Dan?” He turned to look at his other little brother who still had his face buried in the pillows. “You nearly broke Ryan’s heart,” he laughed again. “I could have killed you. We had to find every piece of the damn picture before he’d settle down at all . . . .” Danny’s sobs became louder, and Steve stopped. He and Ryan were enjoying the memory but it was clearly not bringing the intended comfort to their younger brother. His own heartbreak was still too fresh. “Come on, Little Bro,” Steve started again tenderly, placing a hand on the back of Danny’s head, “we’re going to get through this. I promise.”