After Life

by Andrew Neiderman

  They had already decided Lee would get a quick bite near the school because he didn’t have all that much time between the end of the school day and the start of the game. As head coach, he had to see about the referees for the junior and senior varsity games, be sure the score clock was set up, and arrange for the sale of tickets.

  Jessie wished him good luck. She was happy that he was so involved and apparently taking to the new job. Just after she had sat down to eat something herself, the phone rang. It was Dr. Beezly.

  “I thought Lee might still be home,” he said. “I wanted to wish him good luck.”

  “That’s very nice of you,” she said. “I’ll tell him when I get to the school.”

  “Actually,” the doctor went on, “I’m glad I have you on the phone. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I would like to repeat my willingness to examine your eyes. Sometimes a loss of sight is caused by an injury that involves a swelling, and when that swelling recedes—”

  “Yes, I know about that, Doctor. We were told not to be optimistic in that regard,” she said.

  “Well, it’s always easy to be pessimistic. We have a natural tendency to look on the dark side, and understandably so. There’s so much to make us unhappy in today’s world. You don’t have to come to my office,” he said. “I’ll come to you.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but—”

  “Let me call you in a day or so and see if we can coordinate time and day, okay?”

  She thought for a moment. Something made her hesitate. She certainly had no hope he would be able to succeed where other doctors hadn’t, but she felt awkward about refusing such a kindness.

  “All right,” she relented. “Thank you.”

  A half hour later the Bakers arrived. Both complimented her on how she looked.

  “Actually, with your hair in that ponytail and that sweater and skirt, you look more like one of the high-school students than the wife of the coach,” Bob said.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m starting to get jealous,” Tracy said. “He doesn’t compliment me as much.”

  “Now, honey, you know how I feel about you,” Bob said.

  “Taking me for granted,” Tracy muttered. “Just like a man.” She laughed, then scooped her arm through Jessie’s and they left the apartment.

  “Maybe we should see if old man Carter wants to go,” Bob jested.

  “I haven’t heard him all day,” Jessie said. “I wonder if he’s all right. But who would know? He doesn’t seem to have any visitors other than…”

  “Than whom?” Tracy asked as they neared toward the car.

  “Nobody actually. I mean, I hear footsteps other than his sometimes, or what sounds like footsteps. Maybe it’s just him sweeping the floor,” Jessie quickly concluded.

  “Sweeping the floor? What sort of footsteps sound like sweeping?” Bob asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s…my imagination, I suppose,” Jessie said. She felt the Bakers hesitate.

  Then, simultaneously, they said, “We’d better find you guys a new place to live very soon.”

  As soon as they arrived at the school, Bob commented on the size of the crowd.

  “The parking lot is jammed,” he said. “They’re putting cars on the lawns.”

  “Does Lee get very nervous?” Tracy asked.

  “He hides it well, but he’s nervous,” Jessie replied. Bob let them out by the entrance and went off to find a space. From the roar of the audience and the sounds of people all around them, Jessie surmised the gymnasium was ready to burst at its seams.

  “Henry’s saving us seats,” Bob said when he joined them in the lobby.

  The junior-varsity game had already begun and was in the third quarter. Jessie heard the cheerleaders chanting. As they entered the gymnasium the crowd let out a roar.

  “We just scored,” Bob explained. Tracy and he guided her to their seats, which were right behind Lee and his team.

  “Lee’s way over by the scorer’s table,” Tracy whispered. “He sees us and is waving.”

  Jessie lifted her hand.

  “He’s smiling,” Tracy said as they arrived at their seats. Henry Young was waiting.

  “What a night, what a night,” he said, his voice vibrating with enthusiasm. “We’re gonna win the junior-varsity game. Good omen, eh, Bob?”

  “Yes, sir,” Bob said. Jessie sat between him and Tracy.

  “Glad you came, Jessie,” Henry Young said, squeezing her hand. “It’s nice to see wives supporting their husbands.” He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Men need to be stroked. We’re all very vulnerable and very helpless, you know.” His breath was hot on her ear.

  “Yes,” she said, smiling. “I know.” She leaned toward Tracy. “Is Marjorie here?” she asked.

  “No way. She never came to a game, even before her breakdown,” Tracy said.

  Lee came to their seats before the junior-varsity game ended and kissed Jessie.

  “This is one helluva crowd,” he said, his voice revealing how impressed he was. “Got to get into the locker room and give the boys their pep talk.”

  “Tell them to give ’em hell,” Henry advised.

  “Good luck, honey,” Jessie said, squeezing her husband’s hands. She felt his sweat and knew how nervous he was. Her heart pounded in anticipation and she wished more than ever that she could see.

  “Lee must have gotten to them. The boys look up for it,” Bob began when the team entered the court, accompanied by a thunderous cheer. Jessie felt the stands rattle and the floor shake.

  “Ooo, this is exciting,” Tracy said. “Lee is talking with the referees. He looks very calm and very handsome.”

  “A good-looking jock,” Bob said. “He’s got that jock arrogance. Look at how he holds his head.”

  “Lee’s far from arrogant,” Jessie said.

  “Well, he’s swaggering over here,” he said when the buzzer sounded. “Our varsity cheerleaders are taking the court. Those are cute uniforms, aren’t they, Trace?”

  “Um,” she replied quickly.

  “Could you describe them to me?” Jessie asked.

  “I guess they’re something like Playboy bunnies with a ball of black-and-gold cotton on their tight rear ends, eh, Trace?”

  “I guess that’s the best way to describe it,” Tracy said dryly. “I’m surprised these uniforms were approved,” she said, loud enough for Henry Young to hear. But if he had heard her, he didn’t respond.

  “Easy, Trace,” Bob said, his voice testy.

  Jessie sensed a veiled warning. If Tracy was so prudish, she thought, why did she permit such disturbing decor in her home?

  “I’m only expressing an opinion. I can still do that, can’t I?” Tracy asked.

  Bob ignored her question. “The team’s gathered around Lee, Jessie, and he’s giving them some last-minute instructions. The boys look fierce, don’t they, honey?”

  “Like they want to tear their opponents to pieces,” Tracy said.

  The cheerleaders introduced the players, ending each introduction with the phrase, “He’s our man. If he can’t do it, no one can.”

  There was another roar from the crowd as the players took the court.

  “The referee is tossing the ball,” Bob said. “Oh, damn,” he exclaimed when the whistle was blown immediately again.

  “What?” Jessie heard the crowd groan.

  “They claim Hodes pushed his opponent off as he jumped. Can you believe it? They start the game by giving them a free shot. Jesus.”

  The game continued and Bob did his play-by-play, priding himself on the accuracy of his descriptions. Rather quickly, however, the game degenerated into a shoving match. In the first quarter alone, two of Lee’s players and two of the opponents were ejected for fighting. Then the refs began to call foul after foul, mostly on Lee’s team. By the end of the first quarter, two more of his starting five were on the verge of fouling out.

  Jessie knew enough about the game and Lee’s philosophy of
sports to be sure that he was furious with his players. He began making blanket substitutions, and the team’s opponents took a hefty lead in the second quarter. The crowd began to call for the starting players again. Even Henry Young chanted names like Benson, Hodes, Gilmore. Finally, with two minutes left in the second quarter, Bob put the starters back in, and almost immediately a foul was called on Gilmore. It was an obvious foul, Gilmore jabbing a boy in the ribs as he went up for a shot.

  This time Gilmore turned on the ref. Jessie was shocked to hear Henry Young booing. A principal, booing the refs? Moments later Bob said, “Gilmore has been booted out, but he’s not getting off the court. Lee’s going out there. Benson has just pushed the ref. It’s becoming bedlam.”

  The sight of the ball players losing their tempers appeared to rile up the crowd even more. Jessie heard spectators jumping off the stands and onto the court.

  “Oh no,” Tracy said.

  “What’s happening?” Jessie cried, and seized her arm.

  “A bit of a riot,” Bob said casually. “Some of the opponent’s team members are fighting with ours. Lee and a few others are breaking it up.”

  After what seemed an interminable amount of time, the court was cleared again. The refs went into a conference with the two coaches and then an announcement was made declaring the game a forfeit. The booing became so loud Jessie’s ears began to hum. She heard people scrambling madly all around her.

  “Oh boy. What a way to lose your first game,” Bob said. “I’d better lend a hand.” He stepped off the bleachers.

  Security had to protect the opposing players from the crowd.

  “Where’s Lee?” Jessie asked frantically.

  “He’s going into the locker room with his players,” Tracy said, “and he looks furious.”

  Jessie could hear Henry Young and Bob just below them, encouraging spectators to leave the gymnasium. Finally people began to make their way toward the exits, grumbling and shouting as they departed.

  “I’ll wait for Lee right here,” Jessie said. “He must be so upset.”

  “All right,” Tracy said. “Henry Young’s going into the locker room. I’ll get him to tell Lee,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s okay.”

  Almost twenty minutes later, Lee was at her side. The gym had emptied rather quickly once people had begun leaving.

  “That’s what I would call baptism by fire,” Bob quipped.

  “I could have done without it. Some of these fans were behaving like wild animals, not that I can say my team acted much better,” Lee replied. “I’d say the refs here are vastly underpaid. They should get battle-front bonuses.”

  Bob laughed.

  “You want to go someplace maybe? Have a drink?” he asked them.

  “No,” Lee said quickly. “I just want to go home.”

  “Sure. Hey, don’t take it badly. Look at it this way—things can only get better,” Bob joked. Lee didn’t respond. Jessie felt his tension in his hand.

  “Are you all right?” she asked softly.

  “I will be when I get out of here,” he said. “What a madhouse,” he added.

  “I told you those boys were undisciplined,” he said when they got into their car. “I chewed them up and down and in and out, but they looked at me as if I’m the one who’s undisciplined. Some of them actually think they did good. Can you imagine? But the worst part is Henry Young didn’t help. In fact, he added to it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He came in there and interrupted my bawling them out to tell them he was proud of their aggressiveness, proud of their grit, proud they showed what they were made of. ‘From now on,’ he said, ‘you’re the team to fear.’ Can you imagine? He and I are going to have a big talk tomorrow. Right now I feel like resigning,” he concluded.

  Jessie was silent. She could feel Lee’s anxiety, his insides tied into a knot.

  “I’m sorry,” she said finally. “I know how disappointed you must be.”

  “Disappointed? I’m not disappointed. I’m…terrified,” he said, and suddenly she realized she was, too.

  7

  Jessie awoke to the distinct sound of someone digging, but recognized that it was some distance away and probably imperceptible to Lee. He was in a dead sleep anyway. She heard his rhythmic breathing. The digging continued. As quietly as she could, she slipped her legs over the bed and found her slippers. Then she went to the open window and listened harder. The digging seemed to get more frenzied. It was coming from somewhere toward the rear of the cemetery. She didn’t move; she remained still, her ears attuned to the sound of the shovel lifting and dumping dirt. And then she heard that clear clack of metal against wood.

  In her mind’s eye, she envisioned that a grave was being dug up. The image put a finger of ice on the base of her neck and sent it tracing along her spine. She shuddered. Grave robbers? Was that it? She thought she even heard the sound of a coffin being pried open. She started to gasp and put her fist into her mouth. Lee stirred, but didn’t awaken. He turned on the bed and then his regular breathing began again.

  She listened. Now there were footsteps and they were coming this way, toward the house. Instinctively she backed away from the window. Then she walked toward the bedroom doorway and paused to listen again. Eventually she heard the front door of the house open and close, so she moved forward and attuned her ears to every sound.

  Someone was going up the stairway. Mr. Carter? This late at night? And then there was that shuffling. She had to wake Lee. She just had to wake him so he could hear it. She started to turn when the sound of laughter stopped her. It wasn’t coming from upstairs; it was coming from outside. She returned to the window and listened. For a moment there was only the sound of the wind playing on the leaves, and then…laughter, but laughter that seemed caught up in the wind. It carried over the house and was gone.

  All was suddenly very quiet, deadly quiet. It was too late to wake Lee and he wouldn’t believe her now if she told him what she had heard. She made her way back to the bed.

  “Jessie?”

  “Yes.”

  “You all right?”

  She hesitated. Should she tell him anyway?

  “I’m all right,” she said.

  “Good.” He turned over. She lay there listening. The voices were starting again, only louder this time, sounding like a crowd of people complaining about something. They were…frightened. She put her hands over her ears and pressed hard.

  What is it? she wondered. Why doesn’t it stop?

  When sleep returned, it was truly an escape.

  In the morning it all seemed like it had been a dream. Lee was already up and dressed. She sat up and tried to remember every detail. Had it been a dream or had she gotten up out of bed and gone to that window to hear the digging and then the laughter? The answer didn’t come until she accompanied Lee to the front door after they both had had breakfast and he was on his way to school. He kissed her good-bye in the doorway.

  “I’m sure there will be lots of chatter about last night,” he said. “The first thing I’m going to do is get myself an appointment with Henry Young and let him know what I think of what he did last night.” He sighed. “I guess we won’t be staying here too much longer after this year, Jess.”

  “I don’t care, Lee. I’m beginning to wish we had never come,” she said firmly. She felt his surprise, felt it travel through his fingers and into her shoulder, where he still held her. It made him laugh. Then he kissed her again and turned to go.

  “Jeez,” he said just outside their doorway. She was closing the door and stopped.

  “What?”

  “You should see the mess out here. Old man Carter must have tracked in fifty pounds of mud. I don’t know when the hell he did that,” Lee added. “It wasn’t here when we returned from the game last night, if I can call that farce a game.”

  “Mud?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’ll clean it up. He probably does this often.” Lee wa
lked out the front door before she could tell him about last night. She held the door open a bit longer. A moment later she heard a door open upstairs. Its hinges squeaked. But Mr. Carter didn’t come down.

  He’s standing up there with his door open, she thought. Why?

  “Mr. Carter? Is that you?”

  There was no response, but she was sure she sensed another presence…someone, maybe at the top of the stairway. Her face flushed. It was as if she had opened the door of a stove. The heat washed over her, driving her back into her apartment. She closed the door quickly, making sure it was locked. Her heart was pounding. She pressed her right palm against her breast and took a deep breath.

  What was going on here? What was really going on here? she wondered.

  She tried to keep herself busy all day. One of the remarkable skills she had relearned since her accidental blindness was housecleaning. She went about the vacuuming with a geometric precision, crossing and recrossing carpets. She had no trouble envisioning the floor plans of each room. Anyone watching her would be hard put to confirm she was blind. She looked like a woman cleaning her apartment but thinking of ten thousand other things as she worked.

  She polished the furniture and then washed the windows, mopped the kitchen linoleum, and washed down the counter and cabinets. The housework had its hoped-for therapeutic effect. By the time she sat down for lunch, she was tired, but grateful her mind had not dwelt on the events of the evening before.

  Lee called during his lunch break.

  “I’ve got an appointment with Henry at the end of the day,” he said.

  “Don’t lose your temper, honey,” she admonished. “Just explain it calmly, but firmly.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve calmed down a lot. There’s been a steady stream of people—faculty, custodians, everyone—stopping in to tell me how last night’s fiasco wasn’t my fault. Seems there was an away game just before I came on that wasn’t too much different. It didn’t end in a forfeit, but six players had fouled out by the time the game ended.

  “Now here’s the strange thing about it all,” he continued. “I’ve seen some of the boys in regular gym classes already, and they are all acting remorseful, ashamed. It’s almost as if…as if they couldn’t help themselves. Individually they act okay, Jess; but when they’re together on that court, even at practice, they’re…wild animals.”