Trey Roberts and the Ancestor's Wish

by Lee Magnus

  Trey thought for a second, “Wait. You have recess with me, don’t you?”

  She nodded in agreement. Her sparkling green eyes and raised eyebrows indicated she seemed happy that he remembered – possibly so that she wouldn’t have to ask.

  “We could work on it then.”

  “Ok,” she happily agreed. “I’ll meet you in the open space between the basketball court and swing sets.”

  The bell rang.

  “Sure. See you then.”

  “Don’t forget Davis,” she said as she trotted off.

  Trey thought she had that planned all along. “Davis,” he said to himself as he turned in his tray.

  Trey approached Davis in the atrium. He was laughing with a couple boys when Trey said, “Davis.”

  Davis’ smile faded into a vicious frown upon turning to see who called his name. He immediately without saying a word, shoved Trey to the ground. He stood above Trey – his round red face pulsed. ”Don’t you ever talk to me again!” He then turned and stormed away from Trey and his friends without saying another word.

  Trey picked himself off the floor as the other two boys laughed and walked in Davis’ direction. He straightened his shirt glanced at Davis down the hall then entered the playground.

  Trey walked the playground toward Leslie, who was juggling quite poorly, he thought. Trey picked up an errant kick and juggled it back to Leslie while at the same time shaking off the incident with Davis.

  “Try using your hands to keep it going and if you can, put a little backspin on the ball to keep it coming back to you,” he said demonstrating the instructions. He then bounced the ball off his knee in her direction. She caught it with a knee then kicked it awkwardly with her foot, sending the ball away again. He ran to retrieve the ball then bounced it back to her.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get juggling,” she said then screeched as the ball shot away.

  They kicked the ball around a bit before jumping into the lesson.

  “Ok Leslie. Get ready. I’m going to come at you and try to do the snake on you.”

  “You mean, E-las-ti-co, don’t you?”

  He laughed and said, “Yeah.”

  “What do you mean by try?”

  “Well, I can’t do it every time. It’s super hard to perfect. Maybe I get it sixty or seventy percent of the time.”

  She registered the comment then said, “Ok. Come at me.”

  She hunkered down in a strong aggressive stance. Her pretty heart-shaped face became a vicious snarl that caused Trey to pause and smile.

  She relaxed slightly and said with a questioning look but forceful tone, “Well? What are you waiting for?”

  Trey shook off the comical scenario and said, “Nothing. You ready?”

  “Yeah!” she snarled.

  He smiled a big smile just before he launched at her. He stuttered a few steps then rolled the ball with his right foot slightly right which drew Leslie to his right. He then snapped it back to the left, easily pushing past her.

  “That was fast,” she said.

  “I can’t believe I got it the first time,” he smiled.

  “You stop your show,” she said pushing him in the chest. He blushed slightly.

  “Now. This is how you do it. Use the outside of your foot with your toe pointed down. It’s not an outside kick then an inside kick.” He demonstrated what not to do. “You want to maintain contact with the ball by sort of rolling the ball around your foot. Lean to the outside then snap your ankle back across then explode.”

  “Yeah. That’s what you just did to me,” she said paying serious attention to his instructions.

  “Ok. Now that I’ve shown you and told you, you try.”

  “What? Now?”

  “Yeah. You won’t get it until you do it.”

  “Ok,” she said nervously as she slowly dribbled the ball a small distance away.

  She paused, took in a deep breath, put on her aggressive face which made Trey smile again. She darted at him. Trey thought she growled but it all happened so fast that he wasn’t sure. She dribbled a couple times with her left then switched to her right. Very good footwork, he thought. It was all going well until she went for the snake. She made one too many dribbles which put her too close to Trey. When she tried to roll the ball, she accidently put too much pressure on it and tripped, toppling right onto Trey, sending them both to the ground.

  It wasn’t one of those sweet Oh no! I fell into you so we should kiss sort of falls. This one was ugly and wild. They first bumped heads causing each to reflexively arch backwards, one of her feet became entangled in his causing him to try to jump away to save a sprain. He then went flaying awkwardly in the air while she continued to fall forward with her knee bent in a precarious way. Trey saw her fall under him so he turned himself sideways the best he could to avoid smashing onto her with all his weight. She curled into a ball just as his legs bashed into her side propelling his upper body forcefully into the ground on his left shoulder.

  Leslie laughed hysterically.

  “Oww. What’s so funny?” Trey said rolling onto his back.

  She continued laughing. Heaving to catch her breath. He sat up to find her sitting and holding her head, laughing wildly. He rubbed his head then massaged his shoulder.

  She calmed down a bit until he said, “That did not go well. I think the lesson is over.” She busted out laughing again.

  “Y…You,” she said amid hysterics. “You said…you said you try.” She held her belly. Her face looked painful. “Oooh, my stomach hurts,” she said as the laughing subsided. “You said you try.” She laughed again. Trey didn’t think it would ever stop. She calmed a bit and said, “I don’t think that could have gone any worse.”

  Trey smiled and said, “No. That was quite possibly the worst snake I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes widened and then they both shared a hearty laugh together.

  “Hey Trey,”

  Trey looked up and was startled to see who was standing there. His joyful laughter turned into an eager smile. He instantly stood and brushed off the dirt from his shirt and pants. “Sarah.” He looked down at Leslie still sitting in the grass then turned to again face Sarah. “Wha...what are you doing here? You don’t have recess now,” he said nervously.

  “Hey Leslie,” Sarah said in a friendly non-threatening voice and genuine smile. Leslie raised a hand to acknowledge the greeting but didn’t say anything or stand. “Mr. Peterson loves me. He lets me leave class whenever I want. I usually go to the library, but I need your help.”

  He eagerly replied, “Yeah! Sure. Whatever you need.” His eyes were bright and hopeful.

  “You have practice with Kenny today, right?”

  “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.” As hope faded, he slouched in disappointment wishing he could sink into the ground away from this uncomfortable interaction.

  “Do you think you could give him this? It’s the address to my uncle’s house where he’ll pick me up tomorrow. I totally forgot and my mom doesn’t let me bring my phone to school.”

  He replied in a lower less jovial tone, “Yeah. I’ll give it to him.” He looked at the folded piece of paper like it was a death sentence.

  “Thanks, Trey! I hope you do well today.” He watched her skip away without looking back.

  “You like her don’t you,” Leslie said.

  “What? No. Who? Me? No.”

  “You’re terrible at hiding it.”

  Trey didn’t reply. He looked away and placed the paper in a pocket.

  “She’s very pretty and popular. The popular thing doesn’t seem to fit with you though. Is it just that she’s pretty?”

  “No. She’s smart too and likes science.”

  “So, you do like her,” she said smiling.

  “It’s really none of your business you know.”

  “Yeah, but now I’m making it my business. I don’t just smash into anyone without getting to know them better.”

  He smiled at her remark then said evenly, “Ke
ep working on that snake. You’ll pick it up soon. There’s the bell. We have to get to class.” He helped her up and she didn’t lose eye contact until they said bye to walk toward separate entrances to the building.

  His confidence was at an all-time low as he sat in Mr. Hampton’s science class moping over lost opportunity and perilous dangers.

  Playing with the Big Boys

  That afternoon Trey walked onto practice field four for the first time – the varsity field.

  “Yo, Trey! Over here! This is the kid in the video!” said Kenny to a few guys sitting on the bleachers. “This is Trey Roberts, the middle schooler coach said would practice with us this week,” he announced to the group.

  “Dude! That move on your weak striker was sick AF!” a medium sized pimple faced boy said.

  “Yeah! I bet I’ve watched it a hundred times! You were awesome!” another said.

  “You won’t be able to pull that crap on this field,” a tall well-muscled senior said. “We aren’t little middle schoolers here. I don’t know why coach thinks you can play with us, but I’ll make sure he learns why you belong on the playground rather than a real pitch.”

  “Stop giving him a hard time, Tucker. He’s cool. I’ve played with him at the Sunday pickup game. He’s pretty good and can probably out dribble you!” said a tall lanky defender.

  “Ooooooo!” the other players said.

  “Really? You think so, Art? We’ll have to test that theory.” He turned to Trey with an overly serious face, “See you on the field, Roberts.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” said Art. “You always juke me out. Just do what you do and show him you belong on the team.”

  “What do you mean, belong on the team?”

  “That’s why you’re here, right? To be assessed for the team?” Art replied.

  “No!” Trey said disturbed. “Coach Rafiq just said I was practicing with you this week. I thought he wanted me to play with better players than what I get in my league so that I’d be more challenged.”

  “No Dude. You’re trying out today,” said Kenny with a laugh.

  “Good luck!” said Art.

  “Mr. Roberts!”

  “Yeah, Coach Wood?” Trey said weakly, still in shock from the news. He ran to the dark-skinned man with a stubble beard and Caribbean accent. He looked to be in his late fourties.

  “Thank you for working with us this week. I’m not expecting you to keep up with the speed or strength of these older kids. All I want from you is your best. Coach Rafiq recommended you work with us at left winger because you’re fast and good with both feet. I look forward to seeing what you can do.”

  “Coach, but I –,” Trey started feebly before Coach Wood turned from him to address the entire team. Trey sulked to the front row to hear the speech.

  “Listen up!” Coach Wood commanded. “Today we have Mr. Roberts here to fill our open left winger position. He’s a little smaller than most of you but he’s fast. We’ll have a friendly scrimmage today to see how we all work together. A team vs B team. Trey, you’ll file in with B Team over there. Let’s all put some pressure on him to see what he’s made of.”

  Whispers from the others echoed in his head. Trey hated being singled out and today that uncomfortableness was in addition to a significant lack of confidence and feeling he didn’t belong. He received many wayward eyes as the older kids left the bench.

  The field was damp that day from an early afternoon shower. Trey walked wide eyed to his position breathing in humid air as his boots lightly squished the grass.

  “Let’s see some hustle, Trey! There’s no walking on this team!” Coach Wood yelled.

  Trey sprinted the rest of the way. Just as soon as he neared his position the striker, Josef, kicked off to Trey while is back was turned.

  “The ball, Trey!” he yelled.

  Trey turned to find the ball speeding toward him. He awkwardly received it, then was painfully bulldozed to the ground by Tucker. He let out an audible, Ooomph, at the apex of the collision.

  “Keep your head up, Roberts!” Tucker said running off after passing the ball forward.

  Trey jumped right up, then ran to open space near the midway line. He received a bullet from a defender controlling it nicely by accurately turning to the left in mid-air slowing the speeding ball while maintaining forward momentum. He dribbled past Art but was slide tackled by the pimply kid. Trey went down hard. In pain but not injured, he popped up, then sprinted into position.

  Trey found it difficult to move the ball or find open passes. Often times two and sometimes three players were blocking or knocking him down. Each time he fell, he immediately jumped up to continue the game.

  Josef kicked off to the center midfielder, Kenny, which sent it to Trey who found space between two defending midfielders. They closed on him as he darted through. He scissored past Tucker, then passed to Josef. After the pass, he broke out into open space between Art and the pimply kid. Just before he received the pass after cutting back toward the ball, Tucker stepped in front of him smashing his muscular shoulder into Trey’s chest and face, pounding him to the turf. Tucker passed the ball up field, then said, “Stay down, Roberts. You don’t belong here.”

  Trey laid on the ground longer than any time since stepping onto his first pitch. He got up much slower than the other times, then trotted into position. He gave Coach Wood a thumbs up indicating he was good to continue. The rest of practice was just as difficult…and painful.

  After practice, Trey sat alone on the grass by the bench. He leaned back on one hand while rubbing out a bruise on his thigh. Kenny walked up and said, “You took a beating out there. You ok?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be fine.” He winced as he labored to stand. Kenny offered a hand to help but Trey declined the assistance.

  “You know you don’t have to show up tomorrow. This is completely voluntary.”

  “What? Quit now and let that muscle head win? No way. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Kenny said with a pleasant smile.

  “Oh yeah. I almost forgot.” Trey rummaged through his school pants to retrieve the paper Sarah gave him. “Sarah said this is the address to her uncle’s house.”

  “Thanks, Trey. See you tomorrow.” He began to walk away before Trey stopped him.

  “Kenny,” Trey said with an uncomfortable stance as if he were trying to get out of asking the upcoming question.

  “Yeah?”

  “Who has the video?”

  “Video?”

  “You know. The one with me and Davis.”

  “Oh Yeah! Lenny.”

  Trey’s look indicated he had no idea who Lenny was. Kenny continued, “Lenny, the slide tackler.”

  “Oh. That’s Lenny?” Trey said rubbing his hip as he remembered the painful moment.

  “Why?”

  “He can’t keep the video online. I’m going to ask him to take it down.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Kenny said with a caring smile. “Good luck with that. Lenny’s pretty tied to the video right now.”

  “I have to try.”

  “That’s cool. See ya tomorrow, Trey.”

  “See ya,” Trey said to Kenny’s back as the winner of Sarah’s affection walked away from the pensive boy.

  Trey grabbed his bag, tapped the disk strapped to his thigh and wished he could teleport straight to his bed rather than asking Lenny to remove the online video. He ran across the field and hollered to the pimply kid walking through the gate, “Hey Lenny! Wait up!”

  Lenny didn’t stop.

  “Lenny! Hey man, wait up!”

  Lenny turned and said as he continued to walk, “Hey, uh…Kid. I have to hurry home. I’ll catch you tomorrow.” He opened the door to an aged sedan and nearly closed it on Trey who caught up to him in the parking lot.

  “Hey, just wait a second,” Trey said surprised at Lenny’s insolence. He then stepped back but maintained a hand on the door as Lenny fired up the tired engin
e.

  “What is it. I’m in a hurry,” Lenny said with a scowl.

  “I need you to take the video down. It’s not –“ Trey began just before Lenny said, “No Way,” with an unpleasant smile then sped off.

  Trey was tired, beat up and disillusioned but he knew Davis was out there in a different kind of pain than what he experienced on the soccer field today – and it was increasingly unlikely Trey would be able to do anything about it.

  Trey walked with a slight limp to the entrance of the complex. He dreaded the walk home in his current condition. He then had the best idea of the day – significantly better than showing up at practice. He walked to the tinted windowed car in the parking lot facing the soccer fields. The window lowered revealing a stocky bearded bald guy who didn’t say anything.

  “Can you give me a ride home?” Trey asked the stranger assigned to protect him.

  Baldy motioned with his eyes and a slight tilt of his head for Trey to get in the back as the locks sounded the acceptance of his request. Trey crumpled into the car, nearly passing out from exhaustion.

  Trey eased into bed that night, favoring his right thigh. Large dark bruises seeped to the surface of his arms and legs. His right ankle was especially sore where Tucker stomped it. He thought he’d never sleep as he tossed and turned attempting to find a less painful position.

  Trey woke the next morning thankful for a dreamless night. The bruises from the day before were gone and he felt no pain in his ankle. It was as if yesterday’s pounding never happened. He thought of what Tanny the dragon said when he was burned so badly in the fight with her in the Highlands. “Maybe there’s something to this fairy healing thing after all.”

  He jumped out of bed, full of energy. He whistled to the bathroom as he readied himself for the day.

  ~~

  “Hey Kid,” Marcus said guardedly has Trey danced into the hall. “How was practice yesterday?”

  Trey smiled and said, “What’s the deal? Your sources not on top of the outcome of my practice with the high school team?”

  “You’re funny, Kid. I don’t have close contacts in high school.”

  “It was awful,” Trey replied happily.