by John Goode
“Oh, I do?” Robbie asked, almost daring Sebastian.
“Yes, you do,” Sebastian fired back. “And you can cop whatever attitude you want and threaten to withhold anything you can imagine, but you know I’m right.”
They just glared at each other for a few seconds, and then Robbie looked back at me. “He’s right. It’s a terrible idea.”
“I’ve made more than my share,” I said, forcing myself not to sigh. “What’s one more on the pile?”
“So do you have any bright ideas how to get Moose back?” Robbie asked me.
I didn’t. Then, right at that moment, Jared and Joel walked in holding a stack of yellow papers. They headed over to the counter and started talking to the guy working there.
“No. But one is coming to me.” I stood up, said a quick good-bye, and then headed toward Jared and Joel.
Brad
AFTER MY morning run and taking out the trash, I headed over to the high school.
Josh’s idea about me coaching had nested in my ear, and I couldn’t shake it loose. I should have asked Coach Gunn when I saw him at Nancy’s, but I’d spaced out. If he thought I could coach, then maybe there was something to it.
I don’t know why I expected the place to look different.
Foster High had always looked like Foster High in my mind; six months wasn’t going to change that. It was weird walking around without the pressure of having to go to a class. All the people rushing around me heading in one direction or another kind of made me laugh. I used to be one of them; nothing else but this school and these people mattered. Now it looked like a bunch of little kids playing tag, and I just laughed.
I found Coach Gunn’s office and knocked on the door.
He opened it up with a scowl on his face before he saw who it was. “Brad? Thought you were one of the freshmen.” He moved aside. “Come in.”
I walked into his small office and looked around at all the history on the walls. There was a framed picture of every team he had coached since he arrived at Foster. I saw our picture at the end, the state champion banner over our heads.
“What brings you back to school?” he asked, sitting down.
“I wanted to ask you a serious question, and I need you to be honest.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Son, if your question has anything to do with your love life, I swear by all that is holy—”
“No no no no!” I said, interrupting his threat. “It’s about baseball.” Small pause. “Kinda.”
“Questions that are ‘kinda’ about baseball are fair game,” he said, smiling.
“Am I good player?” I asked after a taking a deep breath.
He looked at me, confused. “You’re a fine player, Brad; why?”
“No, I don’t mean for high school. I mean period. Am I a good baseball player?”
He didn’t say anything for a little bit. “You’re talking professional?”
I nodded.
“You’re asking me if I think you’re good enough to play professional baseball?”
Another nod.
“And you want me to be completely honest?”
Nod as my stomach turned.
“No, you’re not.”
I waited for the crashing feeling of failure to come raining down on me, but oddly it didn’t.
“You have the hustle for high school level, and I think you would have done okay in college, but at your very best, I don’t think you’d even make a farm team. And if you did, you’d spend your life playing there.”
Again I waited for the misery to sink in, but instead it was like a weight lifted.
“Son, you okay?” he asked carefully.
I smiled. “I’m great. I’m serious. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I could be wrong. I’m not, but I could be. And it isn’t my job not to let teenage boys try to follow their dreams. My job is to make them as ready as they can be if they ever get the chance.”
“Do you think I have a chance of scoring a scholarship?”
“Now? After half a year not playing? Very doubtful. I mean, on paper you look like the real thing, but playing baseball doesn’t have your heart.”
I cocked my head. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you gave it up too easily. If you were meant to play it, I mean in your blood, you would have been all over every single college in the country the moment you turned A&M down. Instead you were happy to leave it all behind and go to California, which I thought was what you really wanted.”
And here I thought we weren’t going to talk about my love life.
“Okay, so I don’t have a future playing. What about coaching?”
He gave me a big smile. “I’m out of coffee; come on with me while I get some.”
I wanted him to answer the question, but he wanted to do that I am an adult so walk with me as I lay some Yoda shit down on you instead. I forced myself not to sigh and walked with him.
“Do you know what the number one job of a coach is?” he asked me as we walked out across the quad.
“Um, to win games?”
He chuckled. “You’d think so, but nope.”
“Um, to teach the guys how to play?”
“Nah, most already know the game. You can go over fundamentals and teach them plays, but honestly, anyone can do that. Don’t need to be a coach.”
We walked into the main building and more kids rushed by us, most trying not to make eye contact with the coach since it was past the tardy bell. “I dunno,” I admitted.
He held the door to the teacher’s lounge open for me. “A coach really only has one job,” he said, gesturing for me to go in. I’d never been in there before, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was breaking a rule. “You can’t make people win; that’s on their shoulders. Most of them already know the game, and teaching plays is the job of an assistant coach at best.”
He poured himself a cup of coffee and then offered me one. I shook my head.
“So then what does a coach do?”
“A coach has to make the team think they can win.”
Say what now?
“Sometimes they can win, and then the job is incredibly easy, like you guys last year. You all had more than enough talent and drive to make it. What I needed to do was make sure the talent and drive were pointed in the right direction.
“The worst is when you know the team doesn’t have what it takes, but you have to motivate them anyways. Nothing can kill a season quicker than a group of guys thinking they can’t win. Doesn’t matter if you had Nolan Ryan on the team, if they don’t think they can win, they won’t.”
“So you have to lie to them?”
“Yes and no. Sometimes you’re wrong; sometimes you think they don’t have it and out of nowhere they pull it out of their ass and win. Sometimes it’s luck, and sometimes it’s because they don’t know any better. You don’t lie to them; you simply get them to believe a different truth. A truth that they can win, and sometimes it comes true.”
“You think I can do that?” I asked him, holding my breath.
“I do not,” he said with indifferent certainty.
“Why not?” I asked, a little pissed.
“Because if you can’t convince yourself you can do it and need to come to me to convince you, what chance do you have of convincing a team?”
“But I….” I started to argue and then stopped. He was right; I didn’t have any faith I could do it, which pretty well ensured I could never do it. I wanted to give up and just leave, but there was a small part of me that was too pissed to let it go. I knew I could coach—I did. Ever since the words came out of Josh’s mouth, I knew it, and damned if I was going to let even Coach Gunn’s opinion stop me.
“I think you’re wrong,” I finally said. “I think I can do it, and not only that, but I think I can be great at it.” He arched an eyebrow at me but said nothing. “I love baseball and I love watching people learn to love it as well. I respect your opinion, Coach, but you’re w
rong and I know it.”
He took a sip of coffee and then smiled. “See? You almost convinced me. I think you’ll do fine.”
My anger hit a wall in my head. “Wait, you didn’t mean that?”
He shook his head. “Nope, but I wanted to see if you were willing to fight for what you want, because that’s what coaching is, son. It’s fighting against what life has in store for your team and willing that something to be something else. It’s fighting against a team of guys who don’t think they have a snowball’s chance in hell. And it’s fighting your own fear that maybe, just maybe, you can’t turn them around.”
“So you do think I could be a coach?”
“I think you can do whatever you want to do, Brad. Your speech in front of the school board showed me that. When you put your mind to something, you get it done, and that is the most anyone could ask for out of a coach.”
I sat there basking in the fact that I got a compliment from Coach Gunn. It was kind of overwhelming. That was when I saw the yellow fliers all over the place. They had been in the halls, too, but I was so busy talking with Coach, I spaced them out. “What’s all that?” I asked, pointing to one.
“Winter Ball, which is a fancy way of saying the last dance before the end of the year. We used to have them all the time, but Raymond nixed them when he took over. The new principal brought the ball back. Says the students deserve a celebration.”
“So what’s the first step in becoming a coach?” I asked him, going back to the task at hand.
“You just did it. You decided you can be a coach.”
That made me laugh. “Okay, what’s next?”
“School,” he said without hesitation. “Lots of school.”
“Great, just great,” I said, sighing.
Kyle
AFTER TALKING with Me and Brad: the Next Generation, I went back to the booth with a plan. “When are you due home?” I asked Robbie.
“We’re supposed to leave tonight. Why?”
“Because I know how to get Brad back. I just can’t do it until Wednesday.”
“What’s happening Wednesday?” Robbie asked, suspicious.
“I’m getting Brad back,” I answered, smiling.
He looked over at Sebastian. “We can leave if you want to, but I think I need to suss out what Cruella De Vil’s eviler sister is up to.”
Sebastian shrugged. “I’m game if you are. I’m kinda curious how this turns out.”
Robbie rolled his eyes. “Welcome to Foster, home of the Dumb and the Useless.” He looked at me. “So if I can prove that Dolores is up to no good, will you turn her money down?”
“If you can prove it, yes,” I said truthfully.
“Fine. You go set up whatever Ferris Bueller-like scheme you’re hatching, and I will find proof.”
I impulsively gave him a hug. “Thank you for staying.”
He sighed as he hugged me back. “What else do I have to do? Live an actual life that doesn’t involve Foster, Texas?”
“I’m staying too,” Sebastian said, half pouting.
I moved over and gave him a hug too.
When I let go, I saw Robbie staring at him. “What?” Sebastian whined. “I like hugs.”
“I’m going to go,” I said, backing away.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Robbie said, not taking his eyes off Sebastian.
I ran out the door giggling. I knew how to get Brad back.
Brad
I LEFT school and headed home. I needed to do some homework.
As I was walking, a car honked behind me. I turned, expecting to see Josh again, but instead of the Challenger, an old beat-up pickup coasted up next to the sidewalk. I saw Aaron White smiling at me from behind the steering wheel. I hadn’t seen him since the school board meeting where he stood up and tried to defend me. From the uniform I’d seen that night, I had guessed he’d joined the Navy, but I hadn’t heard anything about him since.
Aaron was a year older than me and insanely hot, a fact driven home when I realized he was wearing only a pair of Wranglers.
“I thought that was you,” he called, reaching over to open the passenger side door. “Need a ride?”
Why walk when you can ride with a hot-ass military guy?
“Sure,” I said, getting in.
“Sorry about the mess,” he said, grabbing some trash from the floorboards. “I’m on leave and my dad doesn’t keep his truck all that clean.”
“It’s okay; I’m used to it,” I lied. The thought of trash on the floor of my Mustang made me shudder.
“So why’re you walking down First Street in the middle of the day?”
“Was heading back to my folks’ house, and my car is in California.”
“Oh… you move?” he asked as we drove.
“I did, but I’m back now. Just haven’t got all my stuff here yet.”
“With your boyfriend?” he asked, as casual as all get-out.
“Um, yeah.”
“Didn’t work out?” he asked, sounding sympathetic.
“You can say that.”
“That sucks, man, but these things happen. Takes a while to find the right guy.”
I nodded and then paused. “Or girl in your case?” I asked cautiously.
He chuckled. “Nope, I’m gay too, man. In fact, going to that school board meeting was kind of my coming out.”
“Really?” I asked with my mouth open.
“Yep, I heard what they were going to do and I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I knew if I did it, people would talk, so I just said ‘fuck it’ and came out to my folks.”
“How’d they take it?” I asked, blown away. Aaron White had been, like, an überjock around town. Whenever Tyler talked about how it was when he was a kid, I imagined him looking a lot like Aaron.
“How does anyone take it in Foster? Slowly and one day at a time. It was touch and go at first but it’s gotten better. It also helps I’m stationed in Hawaii, so it’s not something I have to throw in their faces.”
“Hawaii must be cool.”
He shrugged. “Not really, but it’s okay on the Navy’s dime. I’m in for two more years and then it all pays off.”
“How?”
“I get out and they pay for college,” he explained. “Reason most guys go in.”
“Oh. Then the ads aren’t just faking about money for college.”
“Nope. Plus I’ve saved some of my pay. It’s all worth it.” We turned onto my street and Aaron asked, “Where you going to school?”
“I’m not,” I muttered dejectedly. “’S part of what I am trying to deal with today.”
“I would have thought you would have had a baseball scholarship or two offered.”
“I had one, but I guess no one else wanted to bet on a gay player yet.”
“Man, that blows. Well, if you’re looking for an easy way to pay for college, the military is always hiring.”
“I couldn’t do that,” I said as we parked in front of my house.
“Why not?”
“I couldn’t handle hiding the fact I was gay from everyone.”
He smiled. “Then don’t. It’s a different world, man. You’d be surprised how many people don’t care. The guys on my ship know about me and couldn’t give a fuck.” I shot him a look and he laughed. “No joke, man. I thought I was going to get killed, but they are super cool about it, and most of the other gay guys I know on the island say the same thing.”
“Really?” I asked, amazed.
“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up a hand to his heart. “Just saying, man, don’t think you’re stuck here in Foster forever. There’s always a way out.”
“I was starting to feel that stuck,” I admitted.
“Yeah, this town does that to you. You’re a stand-up guy, Graymark. Trust me. You have better things to do than rotting in this town.”
I felt a thousand times better.
“Thanks, Aaron. I needed to hear what you just said. Man, did I need to hear it.
”
“No problem, man. By the way, if I was single, I would so completely hit on you right now, but I’m pretty serious with someone, so just take this as a compliment and nothing more. You look fucking fantastic.”
I felt my face redden. “Thanks, man, same to you,” I said, staring at his abs.
He slapped his stomach, and I saw the muscle ripple under the skin. “What can I say? It helps to get paid to stay in shape.”
“Sounds like you love your new life.”
He considered that for a second. “You know what, man? I do. I really do. I was so miserable when I was in school, the second I had my own life, I just took it and ran with it as far as I could. And now—now I have a steady job, I have money in the bank, and I’m seeing a great guy. My college is taken care of and my car is paid off. I mean, what is there not to like?”
I had to admit, I could definitely see his point.
“Well, thanks again, man,” I said. We shook hands, and Aaron chuckled.
“Damn, you really make me wish I was single.”
I laughed and got out of the truck. “Thanks, man. Have a good one.”
He waved and took off, leaving me a lot more to think about.
Kyle
I MADE a few calls around town before I headed back to the hospital.
The room was as quiet as ever, so I pulled a chair up next to the bed and started to play some soft music on speakerphone. I’ve heard that people who were unconscious for long periods of time could hear things in the outside world and sometimes it helped them come back.
After I clicked open my eighties playlist, I put together an e-mail for Professor Madison. I explained what had been going on and made my mom’s condition sound much worse than I hoped it actually was. I was begging him to give me another couple of days to get back to class. I e-mailed my other teachers, too, but they were good; I had been so far ahead that they were more than willing to cut me some slack.