by Black, Chuck
At the end of the school year, his grandmother lost her fight with cancer. Another funeral and more sadness pressed hard upon Drew and his mother in the beginning days of summer.
Jake stayed close during those days and then planned two trips with Drew over the next couple of months. The trips were a welcome distraction from the gray of mourning. The cares and burdens of life melted away in the wildernesses of the earth, and Drew immersed himself in every aspect of Jake’s planned adventures and training. Drew asked Jake about his father often, and Jake used those opportunities to honor his fallen friend by grafting into Drew’s character the same patriotic spirit and commitment to honor and integrity that he had witnessed in the boy’s father.
DREW SET THE PIN at two hundred twenty pounds for the bench press on the universal weight machine. He was shooting for a new max. Free weights were better, but he liked working out alone, and benching this much without a spotter would be foolish. It was evident that he had inherited his dad’s athletic prowess and muscular physique. When most of his friends struggled for every ounce of muscle added, his workouts simply toned and defined the muscles his body naturally grew.
Drew took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled as he pushed hard against the bar. It lifted slowly at first, and then at the halfway point, Drew finished it off with no problem. He let the weights settle back down. The sense of satisfaction was gratifying. His sophomore football season had gone really well—he had dominated as a running back on his team. Midway through the season, he had gained a starting position on the varsity team. At last Drew felt like he was climbing out of the abyss of a ruthless and ill-fated life.
“Stay healthy, get stronger, be motivated, and there’ll be a college football scholarship waiting for you,” Coach White said at the end of the state play-offs. They were words that Drew hung on to and in which he found great motivation. Something about football inspired him. He loved everything about the game, and now he loved what the game could do for him.
IT WAS AT THE END of his sophomore year when Drew’s law of life slapped him in the face once more. Kathryn’s school district suffered severe cutbacks, and her teaching contract was not renewed. She had to apply for teaching positions outside of Columbia, and although she had hoped to stay close enough to commute, nothing was available.
One evening when Drew returned home after working at the pizza shop a few blocks away, he found his mother waiting for him in the living room.
Never a good sign.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Though she often tried to hide her emotions, he could see her heart through the windows of her eyes. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. Drew remembered the first time he had felt his role shift from protected child to protecting man. It was strange at first but now felt natural. There were times his mother needed strength to help bear the world, and tonight was such a time.
His mother looked at him. Lines that had not been there earlier that year pulled at her eyes. “There are no jobs in Columbia, Drew. And I … I can’t afford to make payments on grandma’s house without a job.”
Drew allowed his arm to drop, along with his gaze.
“I’m sorry, but we have to move. I’ve been offered a job in Rivercrest, Kansas. I know—”
“Kansas?” A familiar ache swelled within him. His dreams melted away, and anger swelled in his soul—anger not for his mother but for the fate of sorrow that dominated the course of his life. He had worked hard, and the next two years of football were looking to be nothing short of spectacular.
Drew saw his mother’s face sadden further, and he was torn between his own anguish and his mother’s. Even so, he couldn’t help one plea. “The coach said I would have a good chance at a football scholarship here. I’m only a junior, and they’re designing plays just for me.”
His mother put a gentle hand on his leg. “If there was any other way, I would do it. I know you were really looking forward to the football season here, but I just don’t know what else to do.”
Drew dropped his head and rubbed his face with his hands. He was silent for a long while and finally forced his resentment back into the pit of his stomach. He looked over at his mother and then reached for her hand.
“I understand.” He forced the words from his lips, even though it wasn’t true. He didn’t understand. And his mother didn’t either. She didn’t understand how much he was giving up. The pain of an unfair life swept in once more and mocked him.
Later, in the dark of his room, moon shadows journeyed across his floor as he spent a sleepless night trying hard to breathe in and accept the lot he’d been dealt once more.
What might have been sorrowful tears for a boy instead spawned bitterness in the heart of a lonely young man.
DREW AND HIS MOTHER arrived in Rivercrest, Kansas, and moved into an apartment three days after school started—just the perfect time for Drew’s entrance into the high school to be as awkward as possible. Besides that, he had missed all the two-a-day football practices, so he was coming in late and unknown. He was in shape, but practice with pads and hitting was not something he could replicate on his own.
Rivercrest was a small city with a population of just under twenty thousand. Drew researched the high school and was consoled somewhat by the fact that it was large enough to support a football team in the state’s third-highest division. Schools in the three higher divisions caught the eye of college scouts far easier than the smaller schools in the lower divisions.
“Do you want me to drop you off here?” His mother offered a smile as they approached the Rivercrest High campus. Drew had taken the test for his license and passed, but they owned just one working vehicle, and she needed it for work. His dad had a ’95 Mustang in excellent condition—with the exception of the clutch, which had started to slip. Jake had promised Drew he would personally deliver the car once the work on it was complete, but until then, Drew would be chauffeured by his mother.
Drew huffed. “Naw … doesn’t matter. It’s going to be great no matter what happens now.”
His mother fell silent, and Drew took a deep breath. “Sorry, Mom. It’s going to be okay … really.”
She pulled their minivan up to the front of the campus, where hundreds of students were lounging on benches and steps, waiting for the first bell. Drew felt many gazes fall on him. Oh, to be any place in the world except right here.
Just ahead of him, a slender girl slipped out of the passenger side of a silver car and stepped up onto the sidewalk. She flipped her light-ash hair over her shoulder and lifted her backpack into place. She leaned over and said something to the driver, then closed the door. As she turned toward the school, her eyes briefly met Drew’s as he gathered the courage to exit the minivan. She shot him one quick smile, then walked confidently toward the front entrance. Drew decided that no matter what happened today, that one smile would keep him from becoming too discouraged.
“I hope your day goes well.” His mother’s smile was pained.
“Yours too.” Drew grabbed his backpack and his sports bag and stepped into the social gauntlet.
He slammed the car door, stood straight, and made his way toward the wide double doors at the end of what seemed like a mile-long concrete walk. Four kids on his right laughed, but he couldn’t tell if it was directed at him. He tried not to let his cheeks flush and pressed on to the door. He watched the girl ahead enter the school.
“Man, she’s hot,” commented one of three boys loitering near the steps.
“Bro, the only thing you’d get from her is some preachin’. She’s a church chick.”
“Who’s the new tool?”
Drew knew the comment was directed at him but ignored it.
“Must be the new guy coach said was coming.”
“Hey! What’s your name?”
Drew hesitated, evaluating the potential of being harassed. “Carter,” he replied, then looked to press on.
One of the guys peeled off from the other two and came to him. From the way he
carried himself, he was an athlete. There was a large dose of ego in each stride. Probably the quarterback, or perhaps their star running back.
“That your first name or your last?”
“Drew Carter.”
The guy looked at Drew, eyes narrowed. Square chin, close-cropped brown hair, a muscular build, and an attitude.
Great.
The guy looked down at Drew’s bag. “You any good?”
“I can hold my own.”
“We’ll see.” He gave Drew a piercing gaze, then stuck out his hand. “Joey Houk. Welcome to the Falcons.” He nodded for the other two to join him.
“This is Spud. He’s Josh.”
The stocky, shorter one named Spud nodded, but the other just stared.
Just then the first bell rang.
The foursome made their way to the doors.
“Where you comin’ from?” Spud asked.
“South Carolina. I was a running back for Eagle View High School in Columbia.”
Joey looked at Spud with a raised eyebrow. “Cameron ain’t gonna like that. Mm-mm.”
It didn’t really matter what position Drew played, there would be serious competition to win any spot. But quarterbacks and running backs were certainly at the top of the food chain.
Once inside, Drew stopped, trying to figure out how to get to the locker room to drop off his bag.
“You look confused, Carter.”
“Yeah … ah, can you point me to the locker room?”
Joey looked over Drew’s shoulder and smiled. “I can do better than that. Hey, Bergy … show Carter where the locker room is.”
Drew turned around to see a slender, dark-haired boy dodging through students at a quickened pace.
“Can’t … gotta get a lab—”
“Do it!”
The boy stopped and sneered, then looked at Drew. “Come on.” He swiped his bangs out of his eyes, then led the way.
“See you around, Carter. Better be ready for this afternoon … or you’re going to get your butt whipped.”
Spud and Josh laughed as they turned and walked into a moving mass of students.
“Hey, I haven’t got all day. Let’s go.”
Drew looked at the boy who spoke over his shoulder as he headed the opposite direction of Joey, Spud, and Josh.
Drew hurried to catch up. “Just point me in the right direction, and I can find my way.”
“It’s all right, I’m going that way anyway.”
They walked until they were clear of most students, then turned to the right and went down a wide stairwell.
“Joey’s kind of a jerk, huh?”
The boy looked up at Drew. “Aren’t you all?”
Drew shrugged. “Maybe. I’m Drew. What’s your name?”
They arrived at the door that said Boy’s Locker Room.
“The lockers are at the end on the left. Yours is forty-two.”
Drew cocked his head. How did he know that? he wondered.
“I’m Benjamin Berg. Statistician, assistant, water boy, kicking boy, and whatever else fits.” He glanced at his watch and huffed, then moved back up the hallway.
“Hey!”
Benjamin stopped a few feet away, turned, and waited—probably expecting some snide comment to fly back at him.
“Thanks. And I’m not a jerk.”
Benjamin just stared for a second. “Not yet … not until the pack gets to you.” He turned and left.
“Okaaay …” Drew pushed the door open and was rewarded with the age-old smell of wet towels, sweat, and ripe football gear … the same smell that had occupied locker rooms since sports were invented. He dropped his bag into his locker and snapped on the combination lock he’d been told to bring. He made his way back up the stairs and found the main office. The staff directed him to his first class, Mrs. Wilson’s Speech class. The second bell rang before he got there, and so he was once again a spectacle for everyone as he entered the classroom.
“Take a seat, Mr. Carter,” the young teacher said.
He chose an open desk near the back of the room but couldn’t help noticing the cute “church chick” sitting in the front desk two rows over. He took a deep breath, thankful he’d made it to his first class relatively event-free.
The morning classes went by all right. Since it was the beginning of the year, Drew hadn’t missed much. At noon, he went to the cafeteria and was duly impressed. It had just been reworked in the style of a college cafeteria. He made his selections and looked for a place to sit.
“This way, Carter.”
Joey passed by him with a full tray and walked toward a table where seven other guys were eating. Drew spotted fellow football players in an instant. The adjacent table was a mix of guys and girls—football players, cheerleaders, and the like. This was definitely the in crowd.
Drew followed Joey, glancing about the large cafeteria. He spotted skaters, drama geeks, hipsters, emos, populars, and of course, jocks.
Every school’s the same.
“Guys, this is Carter. He’s one of our new running backs,” Joey said with a broad smile.
“Over my dead body.” A stout boy in the middle of the table glared at Drew.
Great intro. He ought to smash Joey.
This glaring guy had to be Cameron, the running back. Threat number one.
“Hey,” Drew said and sat down. He answered a few questions but tried to keep his talking to a minimum. He wanted to learn as much as possible about the coach, team, school, and players, so he tried to be the one asking questions.
“Just a heads-up. This school has a strict eligibility policy,” said the boy they called Shooter. Then he smiled wide. “So if you get in trouble, just take Natalie out a couple of times over there and she’ll do your homework for a month.” Those who heard laughed. “Or you can just order Bergy to do it,” said someone else, which extended the laughter.
Drew noticed that Benjamin had come in and was sitting by himself. Strangely, he didn’t look lonely at all.
“He seems okay,” Drew said.
“Are you kidding?” Joey stared at him. “He’s a geek of the highest order. Just get him talking about computers or aliens and you’ll see what I mean.”
Most of the guys stayed at the table until it was time to go back to class. Drew stood and followed Joey and the others to the tray and dish return window.
“Here, Bergy, I’ve gotta go. Take mine.” Cameron tried to place his tray, loaded with dishes, on top of Benjamin’s, but Benjamin pulled away and the tray and dishes fell to the ground in a noisy clatter.
“I’m not your slave, O’Brian. Do it yourself.”
Cameron’s eyes burned and he looked like he was going to punch Benjamin. “Pick it up, you little weasel!”
Benjamin’s face turned red, but he didn’t move. By now the entire cafeteria had turned its attention toward the skirmish.
“I said pick it up, geek!”
Drew started to move toward O’Brian, but Joey grabbed his arm.
“Don’t, Carter!”
Drew looked back at Joey and then at Benjamin. He could hear Benjamin’s voice from earlier that day: “Not until the pack gets to you.”
Drew jerked his arm free.
“Back off, O’Brian.” Drew moved between him and Benjamin. “You’re the one who dropped it. You pick it up.”
Hot anger flashed across Cameron’s face as he glared at Drew. He smacked the bottom of Drew’s tray, and everything went flying. The plastic glasses and plates crashed to the floor, and the two boys stood toe to toe, their fiery eyes just inches apart.
“You’re dead meat, Carter. You must be as stupid as you look.”
Drew was ready, although he would not make the first move. His response would depend on Cameron’s attack. One move he considered could potentially break Cameron’s arm, so he dismissed it and instead chose a second move, which, if executed correctly, would put Cameron flat on his back—
“Back away, boys.” Mr. Herman’s voice cam
e from behind them.
Drew didn’t budge. He glared straight into Cameron’s raging eyes.
“O’Brian … Carter … I said back away.” Now the voice was right beside them. The man put a hand on each of their chests and pushed until they backed off.
“Now pick up your dishes and take them to the counter. Both of you have detention. I’ll see you there at three.”
Cameron mouthed the words dead meat just before Drew broke eye contact and bent over to pick up his tray. He collected the dishes, and Benjamin joined in to help him. Mr. Herman marshaled the rest of the students out of the cafeteria.
Cameron recovered his tray and dishes, then disappeared. Drew’s were spread everywhere, and a couple of the football players “accidentally” kicked a few pieces, scattering the mess even more. Drew heard a few choice words muttered as he tried to collect his dishes. As Benjamin knelt down to pick up a spoon, another football player near him bumped into him, which laid him out on the floor. Drew jumped toward the guy, who happened to be an inch taller and about fifty pounds of fat heavier. He was toe to toe again.
“Seriously?” Drew shoved the guy backward. “What is your problem?”
The guy looked toward Mr. Herman, who was just turning toward them again. Instead of coming at Drew, he joined the rest of the passing students to avoid getting detention. Drew walked over and put a hand out for Benjamin to grab. He easily lifted him to his feet. They set about picking up the mess again.
“You’re not very smart, Carter.” Benjamin knelt down next to Drew and set a couple of pieces of silverware on his tray. “You’ve just made an enemy of the jocks, and for what? To help a geek? Not much in it for you.” Benjamin shook his head.
“Maybe,” Drew said as they stood up and faced each other. “But then again, maybe I need you to do my homework.”
Benjamin’s face sobered, and he looked as if he had just made a deal with the devil. Drew smiled wide and winked, then slapped him on the shoulder.