by Rich Garon
The sun shone through the dogwood trees surrounding Audrey Plennington’s house. The mulch was piled on the blacktop of the large turnaround that slanted towards the open lawn in the backyard. A wheel barrow, pitch fork and rake were next to the mulch. Lee paid the cab driver and walked toward the pile. Maybe Mrs. Plennington hadn’t heard the taxi; maybe she didn’t know Lee was there. He started to load the mulch and kept his head down. He took the first load towards one of the large shrub beds and worked it in around the bushes. He was soon back with another load and then another. Pin pricks of sweat started to mix with bits of mulch on his arms and hands. He was about to dump the fourth load.
“Lee,” came the voice he had hoped not to hear. The storm door slammed shut. “Oh, I’ve got to get that thing fixed. But Lee, it’s so good to see you. That bed looks so nice. I told your friend Reid I knew you would do a good job. Tell me, how you’ve been?”
“Oh, I have been fine, Mrs. Plennington, but I do not think I have time to stop and talk right now, because we have to get all this mulch spread before dark. Reid should be here any minute.”
“Reid actually called before you got here and said he got held up on the job for a while and thought he’d be later than he planned.”
“Well, if that is so, I better work even faster so we can get this job done in time.” Audrey Plennington’s light green sun dress fluttered at her knees as the tepid breeze drafted through the dogwoods. “Lee, you need to take a break, you’ve already done quite a bit.” She was almost next to him. Her hair had been recently combed, combed well, and tied back in a black ribbon that made the fine brown strands seem lighter than they were. He wondered if she would talk about Christie and he looked down the driveway hoping that Reid might arrive sooner than expected. Lee looked at his watch; he’d been working for almost thirty minutes.
“Maybe I can take a break when Reid gets here, but just a short break.”
Audrey Plennington looked at her watch. She still had enough time. “Now Lee, I don’t want you working yourself to death. You know something happens here on my property, you hurt yourself or something, and I’m responsible. Now you’ve got to take a short break, I insist. I made a pitcher of sweet tea, a special recipe of mine, with a slew of fresh mint from the garden. And, I’ve never seen anyone able to resist my double-fudge brownies; they’re fresh out of the oven. There will be plenty left for your friend when he comes.”
“But . . .”
“Lee, I think I know what’s best.”
He lay down the rake. “Mrs. Plennington, I am all dirty. I have mulch all over my feet and my hands, and my pants, and my shirt. I will get mulch all over your house.”
Her pincers pulled the silken strands tighter; he was not going to get away. “Nonsense,” she said as she bent over in front of him to brush off the bottom of his pants. “There, that’s fine. I’ve got the girls coming tomorrow to clean for the party. So, there’s no problem; there is no problem at all. Now come, come,” she said as she pulled him toward the house.
The open, spacious house was as he remembered. The pitcher of tea sat next to a basket of brownies. Bright flowers and greens stood tall and full in an ornately-cut vase that twinkled in the sun.
He had forgotten for a second why he had been hesitant to take a break; to come inside the house. The hand pulled him toward her and off balance he found himself against her as she locked her arms around him. Her low pleading voice shot a paralyzing sting into his body: “Lee, I am so lonely, I need someone to be with me. I need you to be with me.”
He started to struggle but thought that to break her tightening grip, he might hurt her. He stood motionless as she dug her head into his chest. Her perfume launched on another front, its heavy essence washing over Lee. “Mrs. Plennington, I have to get back to my mulch. I know Reid is going to expect me to have done more than I have done already. I know he wants to get that bonus money he told me about if we get the job done by dark.”
Her grip, if anything tightened. “Lee, please do not think about the bonus. I’m going to double it, regardless of what you get done.” He felt her arms slide quickly down his back. Her hands dug into his backside. “Lee, I am a very wealthy woman and I’m told a very attractive one as well. You can have anything you want. I can buy you anything and you can have me.” One of her hands grabbed one of his and placed it on her backside. He felt his heart beats throbbing in his ears. Her venom was jetting through his body.
“Mrs. Plennington, I . . .”
Her hand dug harder into him and she dug his harder into her. “Lee, we have to go upstairs, or do you want to do it right here?” Her passion drained some of the strength from her hands and he broke free.
“Mrs. Plennington, I have to go back outside.”
“Lee, you’re not . . .” The half-burps echoing from the muffler were like the notes of a bugle above the pounding hooves of horses carrying cavalry to the rescue. Reid’s truck came to a stop in front of the mulch. “Lee, stay here.” But Audrey Plennington felt the power draining from the wiles that had permitted her to overpower the younger man.
The door caught and slammed behind Lee.
“What have you been doing man, is this all you got done?” Reid asked as he pulled another wheel barrow and rake from his truck. “We got to get this done by dark, this whole thing by dark, or we don’t get the damn bonus, you know that.”
“I was working pretty hard, but then, then I had to use the bathroom.”
“Had to use the bathroom? Man, that must have been a major dump. Now come on, we got to get busy.”
The door slammed again.
“Hello, Mrs. Plennington. Reid Fletcher, thanks again for giving me this business. You’re gonna like the work we do. Let us know if you want us to do anything else while we’re here. Lee and I can do whatever you want done.”
“Nice to see you Reid. Don’t work too hard; it’s getting hot out here. And don’t worry about finishing, get as much done as you can, you’ll still get your bonus. There’s sweet tea and double-fudge brownies on the table when you want some. I’m going up to lie down for a while.”
“Seems to be a nice lady; guess you can never believe all you hear. Not bad looking either for someone her age. Heh, what do you think Lee?”
“Your kicks looked good yesterday. Doesn’t seem that missing Thursday affected you. I know you were concerned it might,” Christie Veit said as she signaled to turn into the school parking lot where they would meet Coach Clement Ezzer.
“Yes, I was concerned. I did not want to miss my kicking practice on Thursday but I knew I had to help Reid with a job he got for his new landscaping company. There is Reid’s truck. I am glad he is right on time,” Lee said as he turned to make sure for the third time that his bag was in the back seat.
“Yesterday was such a great day. The first day I’ve had off in months. I stayed in bed till late morning then just rested. I read some and watched a little TV. It was so nice to be out of that spa even if it was for only one day. Where did you say you and Reid were working?”
Lee saw the coach. Clement Ezzer waved to him. There was a man in a blue T- shirt and red shorts standing next to the coach. “We, it was someone who had read one of Reid’s cards about his new business,” Lee mumbled. “There’s the coach.” Lee noticed that the man next to coach was wearing soccer shoes.
“Okay, don’t you treat this day any differently than all the days you kicked like a monster,” Reid said as he put his arm on his friend’s shoulder and took the mesh bag of now friendly footballs. “You hear what I’m saying?”
“I hear what you are saying, but I am still nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous, man. Christie, tell Lee not to be nervous.”
“He’ll be fine after he finishes his stretching.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Hear that? You’ll be fine when you get done stretching.”
Clement Ezzer was wearing a light blue nylon pullover jersey and tan soccer shorts. A clipboard and folder rested on a m
esh bag of footballs nearby. The man standing next to the coach also had a mesh bag at his feet and his hand was around his ankle as he pulled on and began to stretch his leg.
“Morning everyone.” The coach inhaled deeply. “Mornings don’t get much better than this.”
“Good morning coach,” Christie said.
“You are right; mornings like this do not come often,” Lee said before turning to Reid. “Coach, this is my friend Reid Fletcher who has been helping me practice my kicking this week.”
“Good morning coach,” Reid said, his voice trailing in a nervous falsetto.
“Morning Reid. You a kicker too?”
“No, no sir, just helping out.”
“Well, that’s very nice of you. Heard your friend Lee was pretty good aways back.”
“Coach, you’re going to like what you see. No doubt in my mind, Lee’s got to be the best darn kicker in the state.”
“Sounds mighty impressive, I’m looking forward to seeing what Lee can do. Oh, let me introduce you to someone I’ve been working with over the years, Bobby DeFlore. Bobby’s been kicking at state for the past three years, first team all-league and on his way to breaking the all-time school scoring record. Bobby’s been going to my kicking camp, it’s a three-day deal I run locally. In any event, Bobby’s been going to my camp for what is it, the past five years?”
“Actually, coach, it’s been six years,” Bobby Deflore added matter-of-factly even as he fought to suppress the laugh he knew could pop through as he thought about the stupidity of the stupid man’s claim about Lee’s kicking prowess.
“That’s right, that’s right six years. Say, Lee I brought you some information about my camp. Might be something you’d be interested in, but you know, thought it would be a good idea to see today where you are, you know to see if you and my camp would be a good fit. Bobby here called, just happened to be home this weekend, and I told him to come over this morning if he had time, to join us.”
Reid and Lee looked at Bobby. The kicker had to be over six feet, maybe 190 pounds, with calves the size of small pot roasts and the thighs of an Olympic sprinter. The rest of his body was trim and his black hair was short, but neatly parted.
“Good morning,” Bobby said, his broad smile bringing a rounded-boyish charm to his face as he sought authenticity in his greeting. “You’re Christie?”
“Yes, that’s Christie,” Coach said. “She and Lee . . .”
“Coach told me you’re going to state in the fall,” Bobby cut in. “If you have any questions about school or the area, let me know. We have some good people at school, and we usually know how to have a good time.”
“Well, I’m not one hundred percent sure I’m going. I’ve visited and, well, it is a very nice campus, and the people I met were very nice to me.”
“I’ll give you my number, and we can get together sometime; I’ll answer whatever questions you have.”
“That’s kind of you,” Christie said. Coach called over to Bobby and handed him a new kicking tee. Christie looked at Lee, then at Reid. Lee fidgeted almost as if he shouldn’t be there. She snapped out of it and put her mouth to his ear. “I’m going to go sit in the bleachers. Remember how good you are. Don’t let this guy shake you. I love you.”
Ezzer Clement worked Lee and Bobby through a half hour of vigorous stretching. “Okay, Bobby can answer this one,” Coach said as he watched the two kickers finish a slow jog. “What’s the most important part of a kicker’s regimen?”
“Stretching, Coach.”
“You’re darn right. “STUR-ETCH-ING!!! Need to spend a little more time on your stretching Lee. More stretching means more yardage, can’t forget that. Bobby, come over here to hold, we got to see what Lee’s got here.”
Reid went down field in his awkward run; he’d never be on any athletic team. He stopped about thirty yards away and waited for Lee’s kick. Bobby brought the mesh bags over to the coach.
“Okay, Lee show me your set up, and then do a half-speed follow through,” Coach Ezzer said.
Lee paced off his steps and with head down approached the spot where the ball would be. He pivoted and his kicking leg followed through.
“Lee, you got to keep your head down after the kick. It’s an important part of the process. You lift your head too soon and you don’t know what that ball is going to do. Do it again.” Lee did. “That’s better, much better. That’s keepin the old noggin where it’s supposed to be. Okay, regular speed this time.” Bobby made the motion to the invisible center, grabbed the invisible ball and placed it down as Lee’s foot soared by.
“That’s a three,” Bobby said encouragingly.
“Doggone right that’s a three-pointer. Quick, got that quick muscle twitch. I was almost a hundred percent sure when I saw you turning on that jog,” Coach Ezzer added.
Bobby got a real ball from the invisible center and placed it in a blink before Lee’s instep launched the ball about five yards over Reid’s head. Another and then another landed within ten yards of each other. Coach walked over to the goal post and marked out a rough thirty yards. Each kick sailed through the uprights as they did at forty. At forty-five, one went through, the other sailed two yards to the left.
“How long you been kicking?” Bobby asked.
“I did kicking when I was younger. I started again last week after I bought my new footballs.”
All right, time for point-afters, let’s see your PATs.” Coach motioned them to a point he figured was seventeen yards from the end zone. The ball sailed through.
“Lee, what did you let up for? That motion has got to be just as fast, just as powerful whether you’re doing PATs or you’re fifty yards out. Your body has got to fine tune just one set of all-purpose mechanics. Now try it again. That’s it, that’s it. All right now hold one for Bobby, you try one Bobby.”
Bobby pulled at his legs and then grabbed at the grass in front of him. His foot was a blur as it passed Lee and shot the ball end over end some fifteen feet over the crossbar.
“That’s the way it’s done, Lee,” Coach said. “Okay, okay let’s take a few from the thirty-five; you guys alternate on a couple of kick-offs. Reid, see if you can find a goal line down there somewhere so these guys have something to aim for.”
Lee sent a perfect end-over-end to the fifteen. Bobby’s was a little higher and landed just short of the ten. Reid like a man on ice with no skates, followed the unpredictable bounces. Lee’s next soared to the five, just after Reid had set himself up at the ten.
“Nice hang time, darn nice hang time; 4.4 seconds,” Coach shouted out.
Bobby set the ball on the holder, twisting the ball and squeezing it in what was surely some ritual he had developed over the years. His mind thought about Reid’s stupid statement about Lee being the best kicker in the state. Couldn’t be, but what about what he had seen today? This guy had never played anything beyond junior high ball? Bobby’s leg snapped around and his body lifted off the ground. It was every bit as high as Lee’s, but into the end zone; not what he wanted on a kick off.
“That was a very good kick, Bobby. You are some kicker,” Lee said.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Okay, okay, guys come over here a second. Thanks for getting those balls Reid.
Bobby, last night I got a call from a friend of mine, we played college ball together, now he’s a big-time assistant coach in the NFL up in New York. We’ve spoken a couple of times over the past few years about prospects and I told him about the good things you’ve been up to Bobby. He asked me about you last night and I said you were home for a few weeks. He said he was free next weekend and if I could find a field somewhere maybe half way, he’d like to see what you can do. He also said, it’d be a good excuse for him and me to get together again after all these years. So, we got two old war horses getting together who’ll be shooting the breeze. Then we get this morning, and I tell you, Lee, both Bobby and I agree, you showed us something out there. You’ve got some rough edges no question,
but I’ll tell you this from what I’ve seen, the mechanics, the concentration, the power, well you don’t see that package too often. I’d like both you and Bobby to come up and see my friend, Ed Turley. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll tell you this, if one of you has it, Ed’s the man that will see it. I’ve marveled over these years at Ed’s talent to see that special something that means somebody’s going to make waves big time. I think it’d be great if you both could let Ed take a look at what you’ve got.”
Bobby DeFlore nodded. “I’ll be there coach.” His ears told him at first that the invitation to Lee was preposterous, but his eyes had seen in Lee what the coach had just described. Through years of drinking in everything about kicking, Bobby’s mind had developed an at-the-ready clipboard listing every attribute needed. Lee Fitts had a superior rating in every category.
“Good, good, Bobby, I’ll call you once I get all the particulars. Lee, how ‘bout you?”
“Well . . .”
“Coach,” Reid said. “You know, Lee is a little shy sometimes. I can drive you up in my truck. I mean this is a great opportunity. I mean you heard Coach say how famous Ed Turley is; I mean this is Ed Turley, NFL.”
“Reid, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but this is something Lee has to want and he’s got to want it pretty good.” Reid looked at Lee about to say something then stopping.
Lee took a deep breath and looked at Christie over in the stands. “Yes Coach, I would like very much to see Ed Turley. Reid can drive me up in his truck.”
“Yeah, that’s right, we’ll go up together, the two of us.”
“That’s good,” Coach said. I’ll call you this week also. And boys, one thing, if you plan to get some practice in this week, be careful, go light. No way you’ll heal in time for next Saturday and Ed Turley is not going to bother with you.”
Reid sat up and leaned between the two front seats. He told Christie everything Coach Ezzer Clement was preparing for the following week and how he and Lee would be driving up to meet Ed Turley. Damn, Lee had shown that Bobby D. More like Booby D. If Lee were at state, Booby would find himself with a permanent spot on the bench. Christie looked in the rear view as Reid continued on about what he called the “Strange World of the Kicker” which few people really understood. Lee sat looking ahead and saying nothing. After lunch, they returned to the school parking lot so Reid could get his truck.