Stopped Cold

by Pallotta, Gail;

  Emily tilted her head. “Why didn’t Gravitts come to Meriwether at the beginning of school?”

  “I imagine Coach Rogers had to set up everything. If he hadn’t been able to establish his market and get the help he needed from Eight-Ball, there would’ve been no point in Gravitts moving. Coach Rogers would’ve found another team to coach.” Jimmy’s voice had an official sounding ring to it as though he considered himself a detective wrapping up loose ends.

  “How do you think Harold persuaded his parents to move?” Emily turned out of the forest.

  Jimmy tapped her arm. “That’s easy. Remember the rumor you heard? Coach Rogers told Harold he’d develop his talent so he could secure an athletic scholarship. He claimed he could put him in a college where the National Football League would notice him and probably draft him.”

  I recalled that. “Yeah. We thought it was a joke.”

  “More than likely, Coach Rogers told Harold’s parents that. Sometimes if Moms and Dads believe a coach can make a star out of their son or daughter, they’re willing to go anywhere. My mom knew a woman who sent her daughter to live with a gymnastics instructor, because he claimed he could train her for the Olympics.” Jimmy’s voice rose as he explained.

  “Wow, did the girl go to the Olympics?” Emily pulled onto the road leading up the mountain to our homes.

  Jimmy sat back. “I don’t think so.”

  “That’s sad. She probably missed a lot of fun.” Emily’s voice trailed off as though she really felt bad for the girl.

  “I don’t know about that. Maybe she thought training was fun and was happy she’d relocated.” Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. “I’m glad Coach Rogers and Harold Gravitts won’t be moving to any other schools and using them as covers for their drug business.”

  “I wish someone had caught them before Sean had a stroke.” The joy of seeing the gangsters arrested evaporated when I remembered Sean lying in the hospital. I shook as I tried to keep the sobs inside me from spilling out. “At least I’ve done something for Sean, even if I failed him when Harold Gravitts took his quarterback position.”

  Emily drove into my driveway and stopped. “Margaret, you didn’t know how hard he was taking it, not to mention what he was up against. He could have been the best quarterback in the world, and Coach Rogers still would’ve replaced him.”

  The tears of anger, sadness, and relief burst inside me and ran down my cheeks. I wiped them in silence. I had no idea how I ever could show my appreciation to Emily and Jimmy for what they’d done for me. I slid out and held the car door open. “Thank you, guys.” I could only hope my voice told the thankfulness I carried in my heart.

  They both nodded as though they understood.

  Jimmy crawled out of the backseat and walked me to my door. “See you in English Monday.” He wiped a stray tear off my cheek with his thumb and pulled me close. “You’re such a good little sister. Sean’ll be fine. I just know it.”

  “Thanks.” I hugged Jimmy.

  He brushed his soft lips against mine, and gave me a kiss. My heart leapt in my throat. He released me and strolled back to Emily’s car while stars danced in my head.

  They backed out of the drive. With Jimmy out of my sight, sorrow filled my pores because Sean couldn’t talk. Anger at the drug dealers raced through me while relief that I’d found them settled in my gut, with the taste of my first love. The emotions erupted inside me like firecrackers. I went inside and tiptoed to my room. I yearned to tell Mom and Dad, to let them know Sean wasn’t replaced because he lacked athletic ability, but they were asleep. I didn’t want to wake them. If I did, they’d ask how I knew about Coach Rogers, Harold Gravitts, and Eight-Ball. That was my secret for the rest of my life. I took a quick shower, changed clothes and snuggled into bed.

  Before I dozed off I made up my mind never to let anyone else’s shortcomings destroy my life and not to develop any stingers. Every time I disliked myself because my grades weren’t good enough or my swimming times weren’t fast enough, I would think of my Sunday School teacher’s words. You should care about yourself because God created you, giving you a special gift, or gifts to use for him. That thought swirled in my head, lulling me.

  Dear God,

  Thank you for calling Dad to church again. I still want to tear the drug dealers to pieces. Please help me forgive them, so I won’t have hate living in me. Please, please make Sean well. I ask all these things in Jesus’ name. Thy will be done. Amen.

  I floated between wakefulness and dreamland, my mind filled with images of Sean laughing, teasing me, and cheering me up. “Goodnight, Sean.” I whispered.

  Would Sean ever answer me?

  15

  The next morning when I woke, I scooted back under the comforter. Then I remembered. Mom, Dad, and I were going to church. I slid out of bed and tugged on a brown skirt and a pale yellow blouse before I went downstairs.

  Mom and Dad stood in the den. Dad put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in between him and Mom. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Walking out of the house with Mom and Dad to go to church gave me a sense of being part of a family I hadn’t known in a long time, but we said little in the car. I wished Sean was with us, and I knew Mom and Dad did too.

  A short drive took us to the parking lot, where gravel crunched under the tires as Dad pulled in and cut the engine. We joined a bunch of men, women, and children strolling up the rock steps to the white-frame building with its tall steeple.

  Inside Dad and I followed Mom to a pew in the middle of the sanctuary.

  Bulletins rustled while people talked in hushed voices until the opening hymn resounded behind us. The congregation stood for the choir processional then Reverend Hopewell took his place at the lectern and opened the service with prayer. He mentioned help for the sick and included Sean by name. After he said “Amen” Dad swiped the corner of his eyes with his knuckle.

  Reverend Hopewell put his hands on the lectern. “God always hears our prayers. In Mark, we read “…whatever you ask for in prayer, believe you have received it, and it will be yours.”

  At that moment I lost track of everything else Reverend Hopewell said. The words from Mark rang in my head. I never would stop asking God to make Sean well.

  Mom pulled on my shirtsleeve as the congregation stood and sang the last hymn.

  After the closing blessing, many parishioners came up to Mom, Dad, and me giving us hugs. Mr. Stonebridge patted Dad on the back and told him his thoughts and prayers were with Sean. Dad’s eyes grew misty. It was as though he no longer saw Mr. Stonebridge as a hypocrite, but as a Christian not only doing the best he could, but as one using the power of prayer to help Sean.

  We left the sanctuary, but I took the peace I’d found there to the car. We hopped in and Dad wiped his eyes before he started the engine. Then he glanced at Mom. “You were right. We need to come to church every Sunday.” He spoke with choked up words.

  “We will.” Mom said softly.

  But now we headed to the hospital.

  Dad parked. Then we went inside.

  No need to stop at the receptionist’s desk. I trudged to Sean’s room with my heart aching. With each step I took my stomach churned more, my muscles clenched tighter. Nausea swept over me as I walked through the doorway.

  “Hi guys, where have you been?” Sean sat up in bed waving at us with his right hand.

  Mom and Dad’s mouths gaped.

  The three of us ran to him, all of us trying to hug him at once.

  Mom kept rubbing her hand across Sean’s back. “Praise God, you’re better.”

  Dad patted Sean’s head. “Yes, son, you don’t worry about anything but getting well. That’s all we want. We need you back at home with us.”

  I wasn’t letting Dad off so easily. “What about football?”

  Dad looked straight at Sean. “I’m so proud of you, Sean. I couldn’t be happier to have an honor student. I don’t care if you ever play football. You’re smart enoug
h to be a doctor or a rocket scientist.”

  I believed at this moment Dad actually meant what he said. Of course, Sean would have to be the world’s top rocket scientist or the most renowned physician in his field, but I didn’t think that would be a problem for him.

  Sean’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you really mean that, Dad?” He nearly whispered.

  “You bet I do.” Now, Dad was convincing even me.

  Sean rubbed his hand through his hair. “I’ll be the best heart surgeon in the United States.”

  We all laughed. Then Mom pulled her cell phone out of her purse and flipped it open. “We promised to call Detective Garrett as soon as Sean could talk to him.” She punched in the numbers. “Hi, this is Kelly McWhorter. I’m so happy to tell you Sean is sitting up in the bed talking to us.”

  Silence.

  “Yes, we’re in room 101. All right, we’ll see you in a few minutes.” Mom shut the phone and turned to Sean.

  He tilted his head to one side. “Who’s Detective Garrett?”

  A sinking sensation ran through me. Would this moment of truth hurt too much? Dad turned as white as fresh fallen snow and sank into one of the chairs. It would be better if I told Sean about the police investigation. Joe Garrett wouldn’t care whether Sean talked to him or not. He’d already thrown those criminals in jail. I wasn’t sure if Joe knew where to find the crooks, when Jimmy, Emily, and I visited him, but it didn’t matter. I knew I found them. I directed my gaze toward Sean. “Do you remember taking steroids?”

  “I took some white pills to help me gain strength and endurance, but I didn’t know what they were.”

  Dad nearly came out of the chair. “As smart as you are you have no common sense. I can’t believe you took something and had no idea what it was. You nearly killed yourself and scared the daylights out of us. Don’t ever do that again.” Dad was back to his old self.

  “Well, I…well, I…well, I…” Sean couldn’t get it out.

  Fear he might have a relapse froze my brain as I tried to think what to say.

  Mom rubbed her hand along Sean’s arm. “I’m sure Sean had a good reason for taking the pills. We need to be quiet, so he can tell us about it.”

  “Coach Rogers said the pills would make me stronger. He said nothing in them would hurt me, and they would help me reach my goals. They were expensive, but I saved my allowance, paid him, and started using them. Soon I had more endurance for scrimmages, and I could throw the ball farther.”

  Sean’s eyes reflected the gloom he must have felt in his heart, painful looking lines creasing his forehead. “Even so, when we played Southwest Mistville and Smokey Mountain, I couldn’t win for us. Harold Gravitts showed up, and Coach replaced me. That’s all I remember.”

  Dad’s face turned beet red. “Son, did I hear you right? Did you say Coach Rogers sold you those pills?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You haven’t been feeling well. You might be a little confused,” Dad said.

  “I’m not confused.” Sean’s voice had an edge to it.

  “You’ve known not to take drugs for years. We’ve discussed it at home, and the school talks about the hazards. You must have suspected they were not on the up-and-up. You had some taped underneath the bottom drawer in your nightstand.”

  Sean lowered his head. “I was afraid you’d ask why I was taking them. I didn’t want to announce I wasn’t a strong enough quarterback.”

  The urge to tell all of them about the drug dealers pulled at me so fiercely I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying anything. “Dad, why don’t we wait until Detective Garrett gets here and let him get to the bottom of this.”

  Sean rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Yeah. I’m confused, and I’m getting a headache.”

  Mom dropped down in the chair next to Dad, and I sat on the edge of Sean’s bed.

  Detective Garrett entered the room, pulling at the collar of his shirt. He strolled over and stood next to Sean’s bed. “Welcome back.”

  Sean grinned.

  “I think they’ve probably explained to you who I am,” Detective Garrett said.

  “Yes, sir, and I’ve told them Coach Rogers sold me the white pills I took.”

  Detective Garret directed his attention to Mom and Dad. “That’s right. Coach Rogers, Harold Gravitts, and an associate of theirs are drug dealers.”

  Mom gasped.

  “Harold Gravitts,” Dad hollered out as he came out of his seat again.

  “Yes, Coach Rogers bought an abandoned farm house in the woods and stored the drugs there. Then they sold them from the old, deserted Buddhist Temple.” Detective Garrett gave me a look that said he knew I wasn’t shocked by any of this.

  Mom put her hand to her mouth. “Praise God for taking care of Sean.”

  Detective Garrett pulled at his shirt collar again. “Yes, ma’am. I don’t need any information from Sean. We’ve arrested the drug dealers, but I would like to talk with you about the alleged charges against Sean. Even though we found steroids in his jeans and taped to the drawer in his nightstand, the amounts are small, one pill in his jeans pocket and several in the nightstand. This constitutes possession, so there aren’t any charges for dealing.”

  The color washed from Sean’s face. “Detective Garrett, I didn’t know I was using a banned substance.”

  “Stanozolol is illegal without a doctor’s prescription. I understand you may not have known that, but it’s not an excuse.”

  “Surely, you can’t consider Sean a criminal when his coach told him to take those pills. We know now we can’t trust his coaches.” Dad’s eyes turned misty as he wrung his hands. “Please. I’m partly to blame. I led Sean to believe he should do everything his coaches told him because I thought they would develop his natural athletic ability. We’ll never fall into this trap again.”

  “I’m sorry, but he possessed the drugs. He’s charged.”

  Tears ran down Dad’s cheeks.

  Mom fanned her face. “What’s the sentence for possession?”

  “It’s possible incarceration with a fine, and it could go on Sean’s record, but I’d like to help you work out something.”

  Dad’s shoulders shook.

  Mom burst into tears.

  I nearly fell off the bed from weakness.

  “I’d like the money to put into a county drug education fund, but in lieu of having prison time on Sean’s record, I’ll recommend community service. I want Sean to go around to all of the schools and tell his story to middle grade and high school kids. They’re much more likely to listen to him than they are an adult. I’ll be happy to go with him and give the audience a run down on the consequences of possessing and dealing drugs.” He turned toward Sean. “What do you say?”

  “When do we start?”

  “After you’ve recovered and finished your therapy.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “OK, then it’s settled.” Detective Garrett went out the door as Dr. Salis entered. Would he dismiss Sean?

  “What a great day. Sean is fine. I do want to get him in here for physical therapy on that left arm, but I’ve filled out his papers. He can leave,” Dr. Salis said. He couldn’t explain why it had taken Sean so long to talk.

  As far as I was concerned, it didn’t matter.

  Mom grabbed Sean’s clothes out of the closet and handed them to him.

  We waited in the hall while he dressed. An orderly pushing a wheelchair breezed past us on his way into Sean’s room. Then he rolled Sean into the cheery, sunny day with us following.

  Sean sprang out of the wheelchair and into the backseat of Dad’s car. My heart nearly burst with joy when Dad pulled away from the hospital. We headed to the house as a family. Our residence popped into focus in a different light when Dad pulled into the drive and parked. The grass seemed greener and the flowers brighter.

  Sean hauled out of the backseat and strolled to the front door with a swagger as though nothing had happened.

  I followed him, Mom, and D
ad inside.

  Mom, Sean, and I sat on the sofa, and Dad dropped down into his easy chair. We took off our shoes, and all was right with our world.

  Is anybody else hungry?”

  We all laughed.

  Then we went to Sean’s favorite restaurant, ate steak, and celebrated.

  16

  You’re good enough, Margaret. Put in the work. No wonder Coach Lohrens’ words rang in my head this morning. He’d said them every day since Sean recovered, and I started attending practice regularly up to today, December 12th. This afternoon I’d either qualify for the state championship meet in Charlotte or stay home and hear about it when those who went returned. Coach set my target time at 58:00 in the one-hundred-yard butterfly. A little over a minute would clench a spot for me, but he wanted me to aim higher. I stretched then climbed out of bed.

  Dad never mentioned today’s meet or the championships, but I sensed his yearning for a winner. The obligation to him that was my heritage and the desire to take his mind off Sean’s lack of participation in football lay heavy on my heart. The pressure this afternoon would be great. The Sharks faced the Hill Top Barracudas.

  ~*~

  After classes, I hurried to the gym, reaching the door to the locker room the same time as Tammy.

  “Hello, Maggie Butterfly. You ready?”

  Could she hear my teeth chattering? “As ready as I can be.”

  She held the door for me. “You’ll do great. I just know it.”

  “Well, the monogrammed towels they’re giving to those who qualify this year are green. That’s my favorite color.” Tammy could never understand the burden I felt to bring joy to my family by making the state team. Making light of the pressure helped me.

  Tammy grinned as though she knew something bigger motivated me. “They’re a great incentive.”

  I opened my locker. “It doesn’t seem fair we have to qualify at this meet. We have more competitions after Christmas.”

  Tammy pulled her suit out of her swim bag. “Yes, but this is the last Meriwether meet scheduled before the deadline for entries.”

  “I see. I’ll give it my best shot. If I make it, I make it. If I don’t, then, I guess I’ll have to live with it.” And Dad would have to live with it too.