by Jeff Vrolyks
“There, we’ve made a pact. I promise and you promise.”
Without thought he let go of her hand and stepped into her, kissed her on the mouth. He somehow knew it would be the last time their lips would touch. She didn’t ask why he did it, and if she had he wouldn’t have had an answer. Call it the signature on the oath.
They made their way back home, and true to their word, they never spoke a word of that damned mine.
Part 2: Chapter One
They arrived at the cabin Saturday morning. The sign coming in to the town of Lotton said the population was 203, a slight increase from ten years ago. They had taken turns driving, the other napping occasionally so that they wouldn’t spend half the day Sunday sleeping. They were exhausted, as any drive that immense was apt to do, but were prepared to head to Fallbrook River after a quick shower and breakfast. The fridge had some food in it, left over from when James’ sister Carla had used the cabin a few weeks ago. There was plenty of firewood lining an outside wall, and they’d probably dip into it come evening-time when temperatures would reach freezing.
After unpacking his suitcase Theo waited for his father to finish showering. He went to the window-door at the back of the cabin, a deck on the other side, and unlocked it, stepped outside. It was ten AM, a bright sunny day with a mild breeze. He did love it out here, there was no denying Montana’s beauty. He couldn’t see another residence in any direction. There was just untamed wilderness. The trees were rich with foliage, vibrant and balmy. The grass was tall and green, specked with tiny yellow flowers. A loon squawked at Theo from a nearby tree. He took a deep breath through his nose, and the scent triggered recollection as sharply as any photo could. He wondered where Cedar Hills was in relation to where he stood. South, he thought, but wasn’t sure. He looked in the direction he guessed it to be, and over the tops of the many trees, up at the blue sky. Somewhere in that direction was the damned mine with the corpse of a man he had killed. A memory he had all but erased from his mind. But occasionally it returned to remind him that he wasn’t the all-American hero many had mistaken him for. The few times over the years he had allowed himself to ponder the tragedy in the mine was often spent theorizing what would have become of him had he confessed to what he had done. The older and wiser he became, the more clear it was that he should have told his dad the day it happened. He was eleven, far too young to have been charged with a crime. It was an accident, for chrissake, anyone would see that. But to not say anything, to keep it a secret, that probably was a crime. If word got out now, he was positive his reputation would suffer so greatly that his dream of becoming a Niner quarterback would be lost. Possibly he’d be drafted by a team like the Cowboys or Raiders; in other words, a less scrupulous team, and would remain a back-up quarterback, used only for a snap or two when the starter was sacked and needed to compose himself before returning to the field. He recalled Ray Lewis, the defensive end for the Ravens. He was implicated in a club shooting many years ago. He was found innocent, but it still tarnished his reputation. When people think of Ray Lewis they think “He’s the best defensive end in the game, and I wonder if he really did kill that man in the club.” Then there’s Michael Vick. A once-great quarterback, arrested for dog-fighting. Nobody had died, and still he is a hated man, the most hated man in the NFL. A team bringing Vick aboard is also bringing his felony conviction along with him, and that damned reputation sticks to him like super-glue. Had Theo done the right thing and confessed ten years ago, he supposed the media would eventually catch wind of it and report it, but the public wouldn’t likely hold it against him, Theodore being eleven years old at the time. It would be an interesting story to tell, and people might actually sympathize with the quarterback, being involved in a fatal accident at such a tender age. He’d have been a brave boy to overcome the tragedy and become the athlete he is today. But that story would never be written because it was too late. Now it would be, “Why didn’t he tell anyone? What kind of human being hides something like that?” And they’d be right, and that’s what sat in Theo’s gut like a hot brick.
When remembering the past, he seldom thought of the girl. He had to really think about her name. Christine? Callie? No, it was Carmen. What if she had told someone? Probably not or it would have gotten back to him, he thought. Unless she took full responsibility for it. That was a possibility. It was probably better not to know, he decided. He stepped inside and closed the door.
“The shower is all yours, kiddo.”
Chapter Two
They parked on the shoulder of Road 17 and got down to business. The business of pleasure. The cab of the new F-150 was far larger than his old Ford’s, and held the ice-chest, rods, and tackle just fine, with room to spare. They divvied up the stuff to carry and began their short hike to the river. James said the spot they used to fish was a ways back, a much narrower stretch of Fallbrook. What was so nice about this spot, he said, was that it was so wide, sixty feet he guessed, and it was shallower than the old spot. The waders they had used all those years ago were overalls, and at some spots the water had reached above their waists. Here the water would be knee-deep, mid-thigh at the deepest. That would make for easier moving and progressing up-river through the course of the day. Theo smiled at his father’s excitement and was happy for him. He’d bear these four days bitter-sweetly.
The river was in sight, and James pointed to where he caught his twenty-three incher. They descended a sharp bank, holding on to the branches of brambles to keep from slipping. “Are you getting excited yet?”
“Sure. Can’t wait.” It didn’t matter if it was true or not, it was what his father wanted to hear, and this trip was for his father.
They set up camp on a narrow beach of silt and pebbles. Theo ripped the tag off his new waders and put them on. His father tied the flies on both rods and was first to step foot in the river, and did so with a smile. The two trudged along the stream, upward and inward until James stopped at a spot proven to produce plenty of catches. He pulled line from his new reel and began whipping his rod back and forth. Theo took a breath and did the same.
It wasn’t like riding a bike. He wasn’t able to get the fly to maneuver how he wanted it to at first. He either got the fly a foot or two above his target area or hit the water. James occasionally looked over his shoulder and offered his son tips, the same ones he’d given over a decade ago. Within the hour he had it down solid and was throwing his fly here and there, watched it drift over the ripples of the water before whipping the fly back in the air.
“This rod has incredible action, Theo. Check out how far I can throw it.”
Theo was impressed. His father was reaching outwards of forty feet, and that fly was inches off the water. And as if the fish were equally impressed, a trout jumped at his fly. It missed, but it wouldn’t be long before the next trout didn’t, and James would have his first trout the same hour they arrived.
Theo reeled in his line quickly and moved to help his dad land the trout. He removed the net on his father’s waist by unsnapping the catch and positioned himself before his father, kneeling forward in anticipation of the incoming trout. It splashed a dozen feet out, then at a few feet out. A brown-green torpedo ripped across the water just out of Theo’s reach. He stepped forward and spied the trout, latched on to the line and scooped it up, raised the net out of the water triumphantly. An eighteen inch brown flopped wildly inside.
“That’s a gorgeous fish, pops. Good job.”
“Isn’t she? What do you think, nineteen inches? Twenty?”
“Yeah, probably.”
Theo groped the fish out of the net, removed the hook, and placed it inside the wicker basket slung over his father’s shoulder, rinsed his hands in the river.
“Your turn,” he said with pat on his son’s back.
“I’ll try.” He took a few steps down-stream, began feeding line out. “You weren’t kidding about this place, huh? That’s a fat trout. Are they always that big?”
“No, there are some s
mall ones, but overall they’re pretty big. And more of them. I brought the fellow who told me about this spot, you know, the guy at the Conoco station, a twelve pack of Heineken a long time ago. I owe him more than that, but he appreciated the gesture.”
“Should we split up a little? Are there any good spots down-river?”
“We should stay close since I have the net and basket. But you can go down a little ways. Just stay within sight of me. There are a few good spots down there. Look for deeper spots or large rocks and try them.”
Theo caught the next fish twenty minutes later. His dad ran toward him reeling in his line, yelling tidbits of advise on how not to lose him along the way. Theo was smiling, something he didn’t think he’d do much of this trip, but damned if it wasn’t an honest smile, and it felt good. Better than good, it felt great. Maybe he was wrong giving up fishing all those years ago.
James had the net in hand when he arrived beside his son. He followed the line down to the trout and snatched him up. Sixteen inches of rainbow trout. It was a fat sixteen inches, a lot of meat. This fish had been a great hunter, and would now become a great dinner. The fish was placed in the basket beside the longer, narrower brown trout.
It was almost two PM when the two took a break and headed to shore. James removed a pair of store-bought turkey sandwiches and a bag of Fritos, two Miller Lites. They opened the beers together and toasted them together before sipping. They sat with legs outstretched on the silt.
“What’s it like, playing in front of sixty-thousand people?” His father asked. “Don’t you get nervous with all those eyes watching you? I don’t think I could do it.”
“It was weird at first, but like anything you get used to it.”
“You were amazing in the Fiesta Bowl, Theo. I mean it. It was one of the finest performances I’ve seen from you, and that’s saying a lot. I think it’s crap you didn’t win the Heisman this year.”
“Thanks, that means a lot. But no, I didn’t deserve the Heisman. I thought Ronnie Williams deserved it more than Dante Allister, but oh well. He’s going to go second in the draft, probably to the Rams. They need a good running back.”
“Have you considered where you’ll live once drafted? I mean, obviously if you get drafted to a team on the east coast you’ll live there, but I mean a home where you’ll live in the off-season, a home for life.”
“Yeah, I have. It might be the same in both the regular and off-season, if I get picked up by the Niner’s. I want to stay in Frisco. I love it there.”
James was smiling. He had hoped Theo would want to stay close by. “I imagine you’ll have quite a home, too. Big bucks.”
“I suppose. I was looking at some homes online in Marin. Very nice area.”
“Oh yeah, Marin is very nice. That would be fantastic.”
“God, I’m going to be so disappointed if I don’t get picked up by Frisco. If I don’t I’ll probably go to Jacksonville. Jacksonville has next pick, and they have a decent quarterback, but they still might take me for second-string. If they don’t take me, I’ll most likely go to Cleveland. I’d rather live there than Jacksonville. I don’t like Florida, too much humidity.”
“It won’t be too bad during football season. The fall and winter isn’t so bad there.”
“That’s true.”
“Have you any idea how much money you’ll get for signing?”
“I’ve heard some numbers, but I’d rather not jinx it by saying them. It’s good, Dad. Real good. Because of my performance in the Fiesta Bowl, my agent thinks I’ll get top dollar. More than Dante Allister even. He’s a risky pick because he runs a lot. He’s taken some big hits over the years, and sometimes isn’t quick to get back up. A guy like that doesn’t last long in the NFL. Or is riddled with injuries. It’s the less mobile QB’s who last ten, fifteen years in the league, like Montana, Marino, Manning, Brady. Those guys can’t run at all, but they were fast to get rid of the ball. They stayed in the pocket and got the job done. Look at QB’s like Vick, McNabb, Vince Young… they get injured almost every year. Because of that the franchises have to have a great second-string quarterback, and that costs a lot of money. Guys like Marino and Montana rarely got hurt, and therefore didn’t need a great backup. It may cost more to secure a QB like one of those guys, but at least they don’t need to spend millions on a backup. Tennessee will take Allister, I’m sure, and will probably find another veteran QB to sign. It will cost them more than Frisco signing me, even though I’ll probably earn more than Dante.”
“I’ve been praying Frisco takes you, son. Admittedly it’s for my own selfish reasons. I want you close by. But for you, too. I know how much it means to you. I remember the first time I took you to a Niner’s game. You were eight, I think. Man, we had such a great time. It was then that you fell in love with the game.”
“I remember that game. Frisco beat the Giants. Jeff Garcia was the QB. I think Terrell Owens was a rookie.”
“Yes, probably. I wonder if I never brought you to that game if you’d have taken to football like you did. Heck, maybe you’d have played baseball instead of football in high school. If so, I have no doubt you’d be successful at it. You’re a natural athlete. I don’t know where you get it, because it’s not from your mother or I. Or your grandparents. It’s a gift from God, what you have.”
“I do thank God. He blessed me.”
“I’m glad to see you have faith, Theo. I know we don’t talk about religion much, but it’s important to be connected with your spirituality.”
“I haven’t been to church in years. But I have read the bible.”
“Really? You never told me that.”
Theo ate a Frito, sipped his Miller. “I dated a girl for awhile. Remember Clara?”
“Oh yeah, of course. What a beautiful girl she is.”
“Very. She’s still a Stanford cheerleader. She’s a protestant, devout. She inspired me to read the bible. I guess something good came out of our relationship, huh?”
“If nothing else, yes. Gosh,” he said thoughtfully, “I really liked that girl. So polite. What a smile she had. What happened with her?”
“We just weren’t it for each other. I don’t know why. We argued a lot, I guess. There were rumors that she had cheated on me with a guy on my team. I don’t believe it happened, I trust her. And him. But still, there would always be that lingering doubt… what if?”
“I doubt she’d cheat on you. She seemed like a moral girl, and you say she’s a devout Christian, so it doesn’t seem possible.”
“Yeah, like I said, we just weren’t it for each other. No big deal, there are plenty of fish in the sea, huh?”
“For a rising star? NFL quarterback? You bet.”
“Gee thanks, dad. That’s why I’ll get a girl?”
James chuckled. “That sounded bad, I’m sorry. I just mean that the number of fish in the sea angling to be caught by you is a far higher number than for most men. You’d get a great woman even if you worked at Burger King.”
Theo took a long drink of his beer, took a bite of his sandwich gazing at the environment in all its splendor. Such a beautiful, peaceful place. It felt as though nobody else existed on earth. He couldn’t imagine finding anyone else fishing here.
“One thing I worry about, son. You’re already famous, but you’ll be a household name in the coming years. A lot of women will want you for your money and fame. It will be hard to find one who loves you for you and only you, you know?”
“Probably so. Oh well. What choice do I have?”
“Remember Jessica’s friend Amy?”
“Amy,” Theo mused. “She goes to Pitt, too?”
“Yes, also in med school. She has come out here several times with Jessica. Here meaning Frisco, not Montana.”
“Oh wait… tall, brown hair, giggles a lot?”
James smiled. “Yes, only she doesn’t giggle nearly as much when you aren’t around.”
“Yeah, I remember her. Jessica asked me what I thought of her once
. I was dating Clara at the time. Why do you ask?”
“Jessica is coming out in a couple weeks, and asked your mother if Amy could come along. So maybe you could stop by and say hi to her?”
“Stop grinning, Dad,” Theo said and laughed. “You want me to hook up with her?”
“Hook up?” He said with a soured expression. “Doesn’t that mean sex?”
“No, just means get together in any number of ways. Not just sex. You’re trying to set me up with her, aren’t you?”
“Nah, I’m just throwing it out there. I don’t even think you were a freshman at Stanford when Amy first came out here with your sister. Yeah, I think your sister was a sophomore at Pitt, which means you were a senior in high school. She was giggling even back then. She liked you. I’m just saying, son, from now on you’ll never really know which women want you for your money or for you, but there are women who liked you before you became a great quarterback. Clara, for one. And Amy.”
“You’re right. She is cute. I don’t really have the mindset right now for love, Dad. I’m focused on football, my career. Maybe down the road. If she’s still interested in me, maybe I’ll see if she wants to go out. She lives in Pennsylvania then?”
“She’s from there, yes. But I also know she loves it in Frisco, too. That’s why she comes out so often with Jessica. That and to see you, occasionally, I’d guess. She and your sister are going to graduate next year. We’ll have a doctor in the family. And a quarterback in the NFL. Are the Grahams fortunate or what!”
“We sure are. And we have a famous artist for a father.”
“Famous?” He laughed. “Famous? Well, people in the city who love art may know me, but that’s about it. I’m good enough to earn a living, but not so good that I’ll be in art history books in the future. I earned enough money to put your sister through medical school, for that I am grateful. Had you not gotten a full ride to Stanford, there is no way I could have afforded both Stanford and Pitt. God has a way of making things work out.”