Emily moved her arm from my shoulder and tilted her head. “Sometimes I believe my parents are too hard on me. Then I remember. They want my life to be better than theirs. Do you think that’s why your dad pushes Sean?”
“No, it might help if I did. He wants to re-live his life through Sean. Have everyone remember how great a quarterback he was. You know, like father, like son. When Sean was in grammar school, he wore himself out trying to live up to Dad’s goals for him. Every time he competed in a sport, he came off the field or the court looking like the five-year-old who lives down the street. You know the one I’m talking about. He’s always huffing and puffing, running behind his older brothers.”
Emily chuckled. “Yes, I’ve seen the little guy.”
I couldn’t help but giggle too. “Yeah, he’s cute.” My thoughts turned back to Sean, sorrow filled every fiber of my being, and I fell silent.
Emily touched my arm. “I don’t think any of you, even your father, would have wanted Sean to take that drug. Your dad probably would have preferred he didn’t even play football.”
“If Dad had known Sean would have a stroke he might have told him to quit, but he wanted Sean to play. He lives for sports, especially football. When the games come on television he brags about things he did twenty-five or thirty years ago. It’s one of his shortcomings.”
Why had I used that word? It was the same one Sean used on the day he had the stroke. I trembled inside at exposing my family’s dysfunction in front of Emily. But I couldn’t keep this conversation inside any longer. “Sean talked to me about personality flaws. He can’t throw an eighty-yard pass. He sees that as a shortcoming, because it only causes him pain. He believes some people have stingers. Their issues hurt others. Like Dad’s big ego. It’s a stinger.”
Emily sat as still as a statue except for an occasional nod.
“When Sean talked to me about all of this, I should have told him what a great person he is and pointed out all the talent he has. Maybe he wouldn’t have taken that stuff.” What a relief to tell Emily. Tears welled up inside me, but I’d already cried a waterfall. I blinked them back.
“Margaret, you can’t blame yourself or your dad. Your dad probably had no idea he stressed out Sean.”
Emily was right. Dad hadn’t set out to hurt Sean. “I wish Dad could be like my Sunday school teacher. She says we should love ourselves, because God created us in His image and gave us a special talent or talents to use for Him.”
“Oh.” Emily’s eyes lit up as if she’d just realized something. “I’m always searching within to find my worth.”
I didn’t mean for my venting to lead to a religious discussion. I hugged her. “You’re the best.”
Emily smiled wide. “You’re kinda neat yourself. You know, your dad’s a nice guy. My mom says parents pass along what they know about their lives to their children. Was your dad teaching Sean what his father taught him?”
Emily’s question set off an alarm in my head. My grandfather constantly bragged on Dad’s throwing arm. “Yes.”
Emily made me see things I’d never seen before. Dad’s father pushed him. Dad pushed us. It seemed Dad would know how the pressure felt and not do it. Maybe not. If Emily’s words were true, he accepted his father’s attitude. “Dad once said he believed the only thing his father liked about him was his ability to throw a pass.”
Emily nodded.
Winning was ingrained in Dad. No wonder he insisted we do it. He talked about the past so much, because that’s when he was number one. Sad. I wished I could take him to my Sunday school class.
Emily ran her hand through her hair. “Sean has coped with your dad a long time. With his talk about shortcomings and stingers, it sounds as if he was beginning to realize it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t please him. I believe someone else influenced Sean. I’d like to know what that undercover cop found out. What’s his name?”
“Joe.” Sparks went off in my head. “I wish Joe would tell us what he knows. He hasn’t shared anything.”
Emily gave a knowing nod. “I bet he’s not as confused as a cat chasing its tail like Wretch said.”
“I hope not.” I looked at my watch. “Wow! It’s one-thirty already. Wanna go to bed?”
“Uh-huh. We’re going to be wiped out tomorrow.” Emily stood, crawled in the bed, and snuggled under the comforter.
Before my talk with Emily, thoughts about Dad buzzed in my head like angry mosquitoes. I still didn’t like the way Dad pushed Sean and me, but now I understood better why he did it. My muscles relaxed as I let go, but the loathing in my heart and questions in my mind about the drug dealers couldn’t be quieted.
10
Did I hear my name? Half asleep, I rolled over.
“Maaaargaret.”
Dad. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Emily, get up. We have ta’ get ready.” My feet thumped on the floor as I bounded out of bed and opened the door to my room. “Thanks Dad. We’re coming.”
“OK, see you later.” The front door slammed.
Emily sprang up, pulled a red T-shirt over her head, and yanked on khaki pants while I slipped on a yellow shirt and jeans. We stomped down the steps and snatched up two pieces of toast Dad left on the kitchen counter. Munching them, we dashed to Emily’s car.
We only passed one truck until we pulled onto the Meriwether campus. Bumper-to-bumper vehicles wound around the curves going up the hill like a huge caterpillar. Emily joined them and crept forward until we reached the library. Then she stopped and let me out.
“Thanks for everything.”
Emily smiled. “I liked hanging out.”
She drove toward the parking lot, and I darted to the classroom building.
Mrs. Grover, my homeroom teacher, glanced at me then marked her attendance book. Studying was the last thing on my mind. Today I’d find out which teacher skipped classes to go to a conference.
~*~
Even though I’d talked to students after classes for four hours, I still didn’t know Wretch’s identity when I saw Emily in math. She had lain her head on the desk, her long black hair over her face. I tapped her arm. Could I look her in the eyes after I kept her up all night? “Wake up before Mr. Jones catches you.”
She flinched and sat up. “Huh? Oh, thanks.”
“I’m sorry you’re exhausted today.”
She rubbed her eye with her knuckle. “No worries.”
“Ladies.” Mr. Jones gave Emily and me a stern stare.
Then he walked to the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk, and started explaining square roots.
My head nodded as I tried to pay attention. I drew daisies on my notebook to keep awake until the bell rang.
Then, I waited for Emily and we clomped downstairs to the basement. “You don’t need to give me a ride home. I’ll take the bus after swim practice.”
“Maybe both of us can get to bed early tonight.” She gazed at me with tired brown eyes.
I drew in a breath and let it out. “Yeah, if I finish studying for the math test before midnight.”
Emily stuffed all her books except a red one in her locker and turned around. “Call me. We’ll do it together.”
Thank goodness for Emily. Since Sean had been in the hospital, if I hinted I might have trouble with an algebra assignment, she suggested we team up to study. I’d taken algebra one in eighth grade and received plenty of help from Dad and Sean. “I bet you made an A in algebra one.”
Emily grinned, but didn’t brag about her grade.
Without her help I’d have been lost in the subject. “See ya’.” I grabbed my literature book and went back upstairs. I was so blessed to have a friend like Emily.
In English, Mrs. Hornsby spoke on Thoreau’s peaceful Walden Pond. How great that must have been for him. He didn’t have to worry about being the best or winning like Sean and I, but Walden sounded too lonely for me. The bell jarred me from my thoughts, and I started toward the door.
“Hey, hold up.” Jimmy looked
hot in his light blue shirt as he zigzagged through the students on the other side of the room. “You’re supposed to wait for me, remember?”
My heart swelled. “I’m sorry. I think I’m half asleep.”
He walked with me to the basement. “That English class didn’t help.”
I giggled as I opened my locker door. “I wouldn’t be happy sitting around thinking about what life means like Thoreau. I want to live it.”
“That a girl.” Jimmy laughed as he patted my back.
His flirty gaze sent a warm tingle up my spine. My feet barely touched the ground as I headed toward my next period. Concentrating on schoolwork grew more difficult with each class. Serious business waited for me at the pool, and it wasn’t swimming laps.
There were sixty students on the team. Surely one of them had a teacher out yesterday to go to the conference I’d heard about in the woods. All I needed was one team member to cough up the name of that absent instructor, and bingo. I could tell Joe where to find Wretch. Finally, the last bell of the day rang. I jumped up and ran to practice.
Swimmers headed for the door as I entered the locker room. “Hey, did any of you have a teacher out yesterday because he went to a conference?”
Several of my teammates left without glancing my way. Others shook their heads.
Tammy grabbed her cap and goggles from a pine bench. “All of my teachers were here, but I heard something about a sports meeting for the northwestern North Carolina region.”
Hope swelled in my chest. “Which sport?”
Wrinkles creased Tammy’s forehead. “Hmm. I overheard my English teacher, Mrs. Barnes, talking about it with the girls’ basketball coach, Miss uh, what’s her name?”
“When was it?”
“This past Saturday.”
My optimism fell to my toes. It wasn’t on a school day. It had nothing to do with Wretch. “I see.”
Tammy put her arm around my shoulder. “Put away that shirt, Maggie Butterfly. We need to practice.”
I stuffed my clothes in my locker and walked to the pool deck with Tammy. The only good thing about today’s workout would be someone telling me which teacher went to a conference.
Coach Lohrens barked out. “Lunges.”
Placing my hands on my hips, I stepped forward with my right leg, pushed up on the other, and lunged downward then repeated the action again and again.
Coach Lohrens hollered, “Run in place for ten minutes.”
With each jog the need to know which teacher played hooky during the week pounded my brain harder.
Finally, Coach Lohrens blew his whistle. “Fall out. Get ready for warm-up.”
Jay, captain of the boys. He’d know. He lined up at lane five as I rushed toward him, my flip-flops flapping across the cement deck. “Hi, did you hear about any teachers going to a meeting yesterday?”
“Why?”
Trying to appear nonchalant, I chuckled. It sounded like a nervous laugh to me, but it was the best I could do. “I just wondered if I’d missed anything. I thought maybe students went too.”
He pressed his lips together, looked as if he was giving it lots of thought. “No.” A smile broke out on his face. “I wish all of mine would go somewhere.”
We laughed, but my heart sank.
“Get warm-up moving. Six-hundred yards freestyle.” Coach Lohrens ordered.
I lined up at lane four, took my turn on the starting block, and dove in. Which teacher claimed to be at that conference? Swim down, execute a flip-turn, and come back then do it again. How many yards had I swum? I’d lost count. Coach would tell us when to stop warm-up, but who would tell me the name of the absent teacher? The school wasn’t that big, a little over a thousand students, including the elementary grades.
“One four-hundred-yard kick set.” Coach Lohrens boomed out.
We grabbed our kickboards from the pool deck and created lots of splashing.
“Behind the blocks. Start practice with one-thousand yards freestyle.”
My teammates pulled out of the pool, dropping their kickboards in a pile on the cement and lined up.
“Ready go,” Coach Lohrens sounded out the “O.”
Splats filled the air, water splashing on the deck while swimmers dove in as though someone propelled them off the blocks. I plunged in behind Tammy and willed my arms to pull and my legs to kick, lap after lap. Now breaststroke. Backstroke. Butterfly. Would it ever end?
Finally, Coach Lohrens blew his whistle. “OK, see you tomorrow.”
Grabbing hold of the handles on the starting block, I hoisted myself out then sprinted to the locker room. At last I was free. Slipping into my jeans and shirt, I couldn’t wait to go to The Grill.
If Joe expected to overhear something there so could I.
In five minutes I swung open the wood door. Entering alone seemed a little weird, but I had a mission. I stopped at the counter and ordered a soda then sat down in a booth. I may have looked like an ordinary Meriwether student, but in my mind I was a detective following a lead.
Mike strolled over and sat across from me. Did he know something? My breathing grew ragged with anticipation.
“Hi, Margaret, how’s it going?”
“I’m doing OK. How about you?” I tried to sound casual in spite of my adrenalin rush.
“I’m fine. I’ve been hoping I’d run into you somewhere, because I’ve asked around about—” Mike squinted his eyes “—you know, the stuff.”
My heart skipped a beat.“Yes.”
Mike’s lips turned down. “I’m sorry, nothing.”
His words hit me like a bucket of ice. “Thanks for trying.”
Why had I come to The Grill anyway? I was getting no answers. “Mike, did you have a teacher skip class yesterday to go to a conference?”
He sat up straight. “No. Why?”
Mike could know the real reason I asked. “It’s rather complicated. If I knew more about the meeting, I might be able to get information about—” I leaned forward “—you know.”
“Un-huh.” He nodded. “All of my teachers have been around, but if I hear of anyone who hasn’t, I’ll let you know.”
I sipped my soda. “Thanks.”
Mike stood. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. Take care.” He touched me on the shoulder and left the restaurant.
More students crowded into The Grill and made so much noise I couldn’t hear very well, so I left. As the days went by the fact that a teacher missed class to attend a conference would grow further from people’s minds. If I didn’t find out who it was soon, I never would. I was like a drowning victim who could see the shore but couldn’t reach it. Wait. Tammy said her English teacher talked to a basketball coach about a sports meeting for the northwestern North Carolina region. It wasn’t that meeting because it was on the wrong day.
A cool breeze hit my cheeks as I pondered the conference while I walked from The Grill to the city bus stop, the school bus long gone. I pounded the pavement, stomping my frustration out on it as I passed by a mountain laurel bush that had lost its flowers. Maybe there was a different day at the meeting for those who coached football. How did I overlook that? The bus’s brakes made their spewing sound as the big vehicle slowed and came to a stop.
The door opened. “Looks like it’s just you and me.” The driver perched high, turned toward me, and smiled.
“I’m glad to see you. I’m ready to go home.” The words popped out of my mouth as though the driver and I were friends. I’d ridden the bus so often lately perhaps subconsciously I’d come to think of him as one.
“I’m gonna take you right now.” He reached out his long, thin arm, pulled the lever, and shut the door. “Just doin’ my job. I’m on until eleven o’clock tonight.”
Wanting to be alone, I took a seat near the back and gazed out the window as the bus groaned climbing up the steep hill. Twilight fell over the mountains, turning them a royal blue as the driver stopped at the marker.
“Here ya go, ma’am.” He opened
the door.
I turned and waved good-bye.
My stroll to the house grew longer and lonelier each time I came home. I just wanted to hear a friendly voice when I walked inside. I trudged up the steps to my room and called Emily.
“Hi, I was going to call you. I wanted to tell you about shopping with Mom. I bought the cutest red shirt to wear to the Fall Festival with Owen.”
Going out with Mom and getting excited about a new T-shirt or pair of jeans never happened for me anymore. Those days were gone, but I had to sound happy for Emily. “Cool. I can’t wait to see it. You haven’t been out with Owen lately, have you?”
“No, he doesn’t have much time since he started working at the hardware store after school.”
“I didn’t know that.” Of course, I didn’t. Thoughts about events or people without a connection to Sean or drugs didn’t register with me. A pang of guilt tinged my heart. A good friend would have kept up with Emily’s life. “Do you still like him a lot?”
“Not as much as you like Jimmy.” A teasing lilt filled Emily’s voice.
“Emmmily!” I didn’t want to admit Emily’s words were true. The question was, did Jimmy like me?
Emily snickered “Owen and I are just friends.”
“You’re excited about the festival though, aren’t you?”
“Definitely. It’s a country theme with hayrides. I hope Jimmy asks you. Maybe we can go together.”
Me go with Jimmy? A little tingle of joy ran up my spine, but this was no time to get my hopes up only to have them dashed. “Who knows, after we visit the temple I may never see him again.” The small brass clock sitting by the phone on the nightstand ticked to eight-thirty. “I guess we should study.”
We talked about square roots and equations for the next two hours then hung up. I pulled the chair to my desk and worked the exercise problems we’d discussed, checking, erasing, and reworking my answers. By eleven-thirty, my shoulders ached.
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