by Nancy Star
He read on.
What are the top ten Under Eight boys’ teams? What are the top ten Under Nine girls’ teams? Which towns have the worst refs? Which refs have the worst towns? Which towns have the worst fields?
That last one stopped him. He clicked onto the threads and read every word of every comment. He expected complaints about Mountain Ridge, about the dog crap and the gopher holes. Instead he saw a complaint that made him want to kiss the screen.
West Millstone has the worst fields in the state, a parent wrote. The sidelines are so faded the players are lucky if they can see them at all.
How perfect was that? Faded or uneven field lines weren’t going to hurt anyone, but they might be enough to mess up someone’s game.
Saturday night the weather was perfect. Even the moon cooperated, a big, bright gift in the sky. Roy told Maura he was taking Puffy for a walk.
“What? Now?” For three hours Maura had been watching DVDs of The Sopranos on their new flat screen TV. For three hours she hadn’t moved from her chair.
“Puffy looks like he needs to go. Did you take him out at all today?”
“Okay,” Maura said, because she wasn’t listening.
Roy loaded up his backpack in the basement, and threw it in the backseat of the car along with the dog. Sunday’s game location had just been changed. He didn’t know why, but he was happy that he’d bothered to go online and check.
He parked the car, put on his pack, grabbed the dog, and hustled to the field.
He never expected it would be locked. He pulled on the chain, but the chain and the padlock were both brand-new and locked tight.
He stepped back and studied the situation. The fence was only five feet tall. Even with a pack on his back he could hike over a five-foot fence with no problem. Except for the dog.
He drove back to the house.
“I’m home,” he called as he let the dog in.
“What?” Maura called, but she wasn’t even listening to herself.
He put the leash on the doorknob and closed the door softly behind him. Who was he kidding? He didn’t need an excuse like taking the dog for a walk. Not only did Maura not know where he was, she didn’t even care.
When he got back to the field, he grabbed his equipment and hitched himself over the fence. He wasn’t as spry as he used to be. There was no grace in his movement and he made a fair amount of noise upon landing. But he did it. That was all that mattered.
As soon as his feet hit the ground he hiked up his pants and marched to the far side of the field.
He’d tested the plan in own his backyard. First he used the sprayer to paint a white line on the grass. Then he sprayed over it with green. It wasn’t exactly the same color green as the grass but it was damn close. And even Winslow wasn’t going to stop to compare two shades of green.
Slow and steady, that’s how he worked, carefully covering the white line with the green line until the white line disappeared. Then slow and steady, he made a new line a few feet farther inside.
He had to admit, he’d done a damn good job.
He had just finished—the paint sprayers were back in his bag—when a flashlight sent a figure eight of light dancing across the field, just missing him.
“Sean. How’s over here?”
Roy froze.
“Anywhere is fine.”
It was two of Winslow’s trainers. He recognized their voices. Then came a giggle.
“Now, now,” Sean said. “Not yet.”
There was another giggle. Two trainers. Two girls.
“I’m thirsty,” one said. She sounded young, not much older than Nadine.
“Keith,” Sean called to his friend. “Marilee is thirsty. Did you bring the water bottles?”
“Let’s see,” Keith said. “I’ve got a bottle here but I’m not sure what’s in it. It doesn’t smell like water at all. Well, what do you know. It’s Jack.”
“I thought your name was Keith,” the second girl said.
“That’s right, Janine. I’m Keith.”
“So who’s Jack?”
Keith and Sean laughed.
“Jack Daniel’s,” Keith said. “Jack Daniel’s is a very good friend of ours. Would you like to meet him?”
Marilee and Janine giggled.
Roy started moving, slowly, toward the fence.
“Shit,” Keith said.
Roy stopped.
“What is it?” Sean asked.
“I just sat down on something wet. Shit,” Keith said. “Sean—did Parker say anything to you about repainting the lines tonight?”
“I’m not exactly Parker’s confidant.”
“Look at this. I’ve got paint on my pants.”
Roy tried to figure out the best escape route. If he made a run for it they might hear him, but if he stayed, they might sweep their light across the field again, and he’d be caught.
“Oh no,” Marilee whined. “I’ve got it on me too. Look. It’s on my shirt. Do you think it will come off?”
“I think the shirt might come off,” Sean said. “Let’s have a look-see.”
Another giggle.
“Keith, throw me one of those blankets, will you?”
“Get your own blanket. I’m trying see how much paint I’ve got on my trousers.”
“I can help take them off,” Janine said. “Would it make you feel better if I took mine off too?”
The new field lines weren’t going to be a problem for the trainers after all.
“How long do you have to stay here tonight?” Marilee asked.
“I’m on watch till dawn,” Sean said. “Do you think you could keep me company until dawn?”
“I’ve got a midnight curfew,” Marilee said.
“Then we’d better get started removing the paint from your shirt right away.”
At the next burst of laughter, Roy ran alongside the fence, wondering how he was going to climb over without making a racket. But when he got to the gate, he saw it was wide open now. The trainers had come with keys.
He ran, light on his feet, stopping when he got to the sidewalk to make sure no one had heard him. They hadn’t. They were all too busy, removing shirts and trousers, and getting friendly with Jack Daniel’s.
Roy risked a smile. He felt better than he had in years. Maybe it was time for a career change. To hell with being a plumber. Maybe he should go into the military. Join an elite corps. CIA. Special Forces. Get himself a pair of night vision goggles.
He started the car but didn’t put the lights on, didn’t even close the door all the way, until he was several blocks from the field.
When he got home Maura was sleeping in front of the TV.
“Maura,” he said and gently shook her. “Maura. Come on. Get up. Let’s go.”
He gave her a kiss and her eyes popped open. She looked surprised as she stood up. She leaned on Roy and snuggled closer. They walked together to bed.
Thirty-six
It’s good,” Sondra said. “I’m not saying it’s not good.”
Annie took the receiver away from her ear, just for a moment, before responding. “I’m not sure I understand the problem.”
“I’m not excited. It’s not making my heart race. You did what I asked. It’s perfectly good. But I’m not dizzy. I’m not fainting. I want to be dizzy and fainting. You know what I mean, right?”
Annie knew the key here was to ignore Sondra’s words and stay focused on figuring out what was really bothering her. Once she knew that, she could fix it.
“Is it the tone?” Annie asked. “Is there content missing? Do you think the message of the mission is off?”
“It’s not any of those things,” Sondra said. “It’s so hard to articulate what it is that’s missing. But I guess if I had to say one thing, I’d say it’s missing soul.”
“Soul?”
“Yup. That’s what it is. It’s missing your soul.”
“My soul?”
“Don’t worry. I have an idea how we can go abou
t fixing it. You ready?”
Annie was afraid. “Sure.”
“I just hired this absolutely brilliant assistant. Her name is Cyndra. She’s ambitious, loyal, hardworking—my totally best, ever. She doesn’t need me to hold her hand to explain everything all day long. Actually, she reminds me a lot of you.”
“She does?” Annie said.
“Yup. She has an amazing work ethic. No matter how much I throw at her, she does it. She never complains. She just does it. Once it’s done, she worries that it’s not good enough. Nothing is ever good enough for Cyndra. And forget saying no. It is totally not in her vocabulary. Just like you.”
“Wow,” Annie said.
“Actually, Cyndra is the one who flagged the problem. She looked at everything you did. She thought it was all very good. But she said it felt like you stopped just before you added your soul to the mix. That’s all it needs, really. Some of your soul.”
Annie never really thought about her soul. But she could feel it now, shrinking, protectively, as if it knew it was under attack.
“What I’m thinking—what we’re thinking,” Sondra went on, “is that the three of us should have a retreat. We should hole up somewhere and work straight through for as long as it takes to give this baby a soul. Isn’t that a great idea? It was Cyndra’s idea, but I love it. What do you think?”
“I think I’m not sure what it is you want to do,” Annie said.
“I want us to go on a retreat and hunker down for a couple of days. And here comes best part of the idea. You’re going to love this. We’re going to do it at your house.”
“What?”
“It’s a thinking-outside-of-the-box idea, isn’t it? You have to admit, the whole office setting thing, the whole city thing, sometimes it can strangle your creativity. We need a change of scenery. If we get that, and we agree we won’t stop working until we’re all happy, we’ll get it done. You have food, right?”
Annie sat down. It was suddenly clear. No amount of work was ever going to make this right.
“How does tomorrow morning look for you?” Sondra asked. “Or do you think it would be better to start our retreat tonight?”
“I’m sorry,” Annie said. “I don’t do retreats.”
“Pardon me?”
“I might have done retreats once, but I don’t do them now. They don’t work for me. But feel free. If you and Cyndra want to have a retreat you should. Maybe what the project needs is some of Cyndra’s soul. Maybe with her young and less jaded eyes she’ll be able to see things in such a new way, it will actually make you faint.”
“I don’t mean I literally want to faint,” Sondra said.
“Look,” Annie said. “The deck doesn’t need to have my soul. It just needs to be good. And it is. It’s very good. I’ve given you my best work. And I stand by it.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” Annie said, and waited to be fired.
It would be okay. There had to be other jobs out there. She could always be a cashier in the supermarket. That was the perfect job for a change specialist. She was very good at making change.
“I guess you’re right,” Sondra said. “What you did is pretty damn good. I don’t know why I listened to Cyndra. She’s only twenty-two years old. Okay. So we’re good to go. I’m happy. I’m not fainting, but I’m happy. Are you ready to move on to the Buzz kit? What do you have on that so far? I assume by now you’re almost done.”
“No.”
“What do you have—an outline?”
“No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’? I feel like you’re not managing this job flow very well, Annie. I thought you planned out all the sections of the deck after our first meeting. That’s what you led me to believe. But we’re constantly playing catch-up. I need everything planned. Every word. Every thought. I thought I hired a real Plannie-Annie. What happened to her?”
“She’s gone. And you’re right. You deserve a real Plannie-Annie. You should find one and hire her immediately.”
“Wait a minute. You sound like you’re giving up. Why don’t we go ahead and have that retreat—just you and me. We can be Plannie-Annies together.”
“Sorry,” Annie said. “But no. I’m done. Good luck. Got to go. Good-bye.” She hung up the phone.
She walked up to her office and gathered every Plan for the Day she could find. Her arms full of paper, she came back downstairs, went outside, and deposited it all in the trash.
The phone was ringing when she came back in. It didn’t matter anymore if it was Sondra. Annie was immune to her now.
She picked up the receiver. “Yes?”
“Hey there.” It was Linda.
Annie heard what sounded like a television in the background. “Where are you?”
“God, you know everything,” Linda said. “I’m in New Jersey.”
“Where?” Annie asked.
“I don’t know. Some town near where you live. I’m at Parker’s place. He’s got a huge apartment he shares with five trainers. They’re not here at the moment. Do you want to come over and hang out? But don’t wear open-toed shoes. The floor is gross.”
“I can’t,” Annie said.
“What about lunch tomorrow with Roxanne Lacombe?”
“That’s a funny joke. What’s the punch line?”
“I’m not joking,” Linda said. “That’s really why I’m calling. Roxanne wants to take you out to lunch. She asked me to set it up.”
“Why?”
“Things have imploded with Blaine Glass. And by ‘imploded’ I mean he’s now in rehab. They want you back. Roxanne said you won’t have to live at Proxo anymore. She promises.”
“Sure,” Annie said. “She’ll say anything now. But she’ll end up asking me to move again. I know how it goes.”
“She won’t. Really. She gets it. They want you back. Roxanne will kill me for telling you this, but I’m telling you anyway. They’ll take you part-time.”
“What do they think part-time is? Sixty hours a week?”
“Annie, just have lunch with Roxanne. Listen to what she has to say. Unless your consulting business is turning out to be too good to give up. In which case I totally understand.”
“That’s certainly not true,” Annie said.
“I know. So why not see what Roxanne has to offer?”
Annie thought about Sondra and Cyndra and Tim and Hank and Charlotte and Winslow.
“It’s just lunch,” Linda said. “Really, what do you have to lose?”
“Nothing,” Annie had to admit. So she agreed.
Thirty-seven
POWER POINTERS—October 21st!!! News of the Day
A Fond Farewell:
It is with a mixture of bittersweet sadness that we must say good-bye to one of my favorite players, Rose Fern.
It has been my great pleasure to coach Rose over the past five years. However, when her parents came to me requesting her release from the team, I felt I had no choice but to respect their wishes and comply. Please join me in wishing Rose the best of luck in all endeavors, both on and off the field!!!
Player Development Update:
Several parents have asked Ken my view about player development. As you know, I am committed to developing each player on our team to her fullest potential. However, when a player, her family, or the management of the Power feels a girl’s best potential would be better realized elsewhere, it is our paramount duty to do what is best for her and for all. Remember, what is right is not always what is easy.
Special Welcome Update:
In light of the space made available by Rose’s unexpected withdrawal from the team, we are now able to offer a spot to a new player. It is therefore with great pleasure that I welcome Charlotte Fleming to the Power.
As we know from her visits to our training sessions, Charlotte demonstrates a strong combination of excellent foot skills and superior sportsmanship! Please join me in offering Charlotte our warmest hello!!!
Conditioning Update: I have rece
ntly noticed that general levels of fitness on the team are not where they should be in order for us to get to the next level. Also, due to incidents beyond our control, team confidence has still been lagging.
To combat these situations, I have arranged a series of scrimmages over the next twelve Saturdays with a boys’ team, one year older. The boys think they will have an easy time of it with us. I trust the girls will rise to the occasion, and not be put off by the boys’ size (some are quite large) or aggressiveness (some are quite aggressive, both on and off the field).
Challenge of the Week Update: Congratulations to this week’s Winslow West Weekly Challenge Competition Winner, Evelyn Murphy. On Monday, Evelyn successfully headed the ball one hundred and forty-two times. Some players are still having trouble with this rudimentary skill. I urge any player who is unsure of how to perform successful successive headers to see Evelyn for tips!
Special Notice for Great Play Goes to: Evelyn! With Dinah now on the bench, Evelyn has picked up the slack in the aggression department. Congratulations, Evelyn, on your very first Yellow Card!
Which brings me to this week’s Word of the Week: “Pressure”!
Remember: When we keep up the pressure, we dominate the game.
Field Marshal Update: I am happy to report that our new field monitoring program is now in full swing. I feel confident that no further complications shall arise. Any parent who has not yet signed up as Field Marshal, please see Ken before next Sunday’s game. Also, Vicki is waiting to finalize the order for Parent Field Marshal jackets. Those of you who have not given her your measurements and checks, please do so at once!!!
Game Update: I understand some parents have concerns about facing the Holder Crush on the 31st of October. Yes, they are good, and yes, they have been boasting about wanting to put us in our place. Do not be intimidated! Our place is first place!! Domination Will be Ours!!!
Good Luck to One and All from Winslow West!!!
Thirty-eight
The front door opened, and slammed shut. Annie heard something drop on the floor, then heavy footsteps climbing the stairs. Tim was home.
He walked into her office just as she dumped another stack of papers in the wastebasket.