by Alan Janney
I’m glad you didn’t unearth my ridiculous Outlaw persona.
I said, “I’ll admit that I’m not great at high school social conventions. Katie says I’m too physical, or something.”
“So…?”
“So…?” I asked.
“Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” she nudged me.
“Do you have actual romantic feelings for me?”
“I don’t really think of people that way, but probably.”
“Let me take you take you out on a real date,” I said.
She smiled and said, “I can’t wait to tell everyone!”
That night I got a new message from Natalie North.
>> You made the news again.
I did? That probably wasn’t good.
>>I think you should come over. Sometime soon.
Chapter Fourteen
Thursday, September 20. 2017
I caught a few seconds of the newscast on my way out the door in the morning, but Lee told me the rest in math class.
“Dude, so apparently there was this epic bust over the weekend,” he whispered. “The police found a house full of stolen paraphernalia and drugs, right? No big deal, happens all the time. But then one of the cops started talking, and then one of the perps got released on bail and he started talking, and they were both saying the same thing. The Outlaw, bro. He was there.”
“What’s…I mean, why….that’s cool, I guess. Wow,” I said. I should pretend to be surprised.
“Absolutely wow,” he agreed.
“What did the police officer say?”
“They interviewed him last night. He might lose his job. But anyway, he said he chased the Outlaw into an alley, and then the dude flew away!”
“Flew?” I chuckled. “The Outlaw can fly?”
“Or climbed the wall a twenty foot wall or something. Like freakin’ Spider-man! He swears!”
“Shhhh!” Mr. Ford hissed.
“So…they think the Outlaw is guilty of something?” I whispered.
“What? No, dude,” Lee frowned. “The reporter dug up the police report. Apparently, when the cops arrived, the Outlaw was in the middle of whooping ass. He beat up like fifteen thugs, yo!”
“Fifteen,” I smiled, but it faded when I remembered Tee.
“One of crooks was so freaked by the Outlaw that he called the cops!” Lee started laughing hard enough that he excused himself to get water. I needed to see the news special. Maybe the police caught Tee.
Katie was beside herself with excitement in Spanish class, wondering somehow if the Outlaw would try to contact her again. She’s even prettier when she’s excited. I gave her part of my chocolate bar from home.
At lunch, I finally saw Teresa Triplett’s news report.
“Channel Four News has learned that on Monday night two squad cars were dispatched in response to a 911 emergency call. These calls have been routine in the weeks since the civil unrest began among Los Angeles’s minorities groups. But this call…was unusual.”
The television switched from Teresa Triplett to a screen annotating the caller’s words while the emergency call’s audio played. I clearly recognized the screams from the Monday night fiasco and the audible ‘Outlaw’ shouts. Next an interview with the police officer rolled.
“I was pretty dubious as I approached the house,” he said. He was dressed in his official blues and standing on a city corner, talking with Teresa Triplett. “But as I arrived I heard shouts inside. I entered through the front door and immediately saw six suspects. Four of them appeared to be unconscious. The fifth suspect was being interrogated by the sixth, an individual dressed similar to the vigilante in the ATM video.”
“The Outlaw?” Teresa Triplett asked.
“Right. The Outlaw.”
“Can you describe his appearance?”
“He’s a big guy. Dressed all in black, with a red bandana. Some sort of mask.”
“Then what happened?”
“As soon as I ordered him to lie down on the floor, the individual fled. I proceeded to pursue him through the alleys, where he got away.”
“I have the police report you filed that night. In it, you claimed that you cornered the Outlaw, and that to escape he either flew or scaled a twenty foot wall.”
“Well…” he stammered. “Since then, I’ve gone back to look at the scene. It’s more of a ten foot wall, and…my imagination must have gotten the best of me that night. I’m sure he just jumped and pulled himself up.”
“That’s not what you believed right after you saw it happen,” Teresa Triplett politely pointed out.
The police officer fidgeted and conceded, “That’s true.”
A ten foot wall. Had I simply vaulted over it and landed on a house beyond? That didn’t seem possible.
In-studio, Teresa Triplett addressed the camera and said, “The suspects have been released on bail after their initial arraignment. One of them agreed to speak with us about that night on the condition of anonymity.”
The next shot showed a figure in a room with no lights. The picture was pixilated and the voice was distorted. “So we came back, right? Just out having a good time, you know what I’m saying? All of the sudden we hear a noise up the stairs. (BLEEP) and (BLEEP) went up to check it out, right? All the sudden bam! He throws them through the walls and jumps on top of us, and (BLEEP) tried to shoot him and we couldn’t see nothing and we was all running around trying to get him and the (BLEEP) kept running around and most split, you know? Took off, and I mean they was hauling ass, right? Then the cops showed up.”
“What about the contraband found inside the house?” Teresa Triplett asked, off screen.
“Don’t know nothing about that. Ain’t my house.”
The camera reverted to Teresa Triplett in studio. “I spoke with the sheriff and asked him about the relationship between this incident and the Natalie North robbery. These two Outlaw sightings occurred just a few blocks apart, and I inquired if the police were combing uptown Los Angeles for him, but he declined to comment. The only piece of information he divulged is that a warrant has been issued for the arrest of the mysterious Outlaw, citing obstruction of justice and leaving the scene of a crime.
An arrest warrant! I’m sure my complexion turned as white as a sheet.
“One final note. Channel Four News would like more information on the mysterious Outlaw. If you have information, please contact the station!”
In Strength and Conditioning, one of the sports-medicine grad students helped me to alternate heat and ice on my shoulder and back. Then I hit the weights, triceps extensions, push-downs, barbell curls, bench press and situps. At practice, Andy had taken over as the starter so I didn’t get to throw much. The coaches put me through agility drills to improve footwork, and I moved and backpedaled and shuffled and high-stepped until my quads and calves ached.
That night I rifled footballs into a net I’d set up in my backyard, trying to achieve a quicker release from different angles. I threw rigorously until my arm was close to falling off and then I took a shower and checked my email. I’d received a letter from Katie.
From: [email protected]
Date: September 20. 8:32
Subject: I miss you.
Hi stranger! I’ve been calling you that a lot recently, huh? You haven’t come by recently and I miss you!! =) Things are weird now. But I don’t think they have to be. We’ve been a part of each other’s lives for so long! I heard you’re dating Hannah Walker. She’s very pretty and I hope you’re happy. But I hope you can still talk to me. Sammy and I are good too, though I’m not positive what exactly we are. Are we a couple? Are we just friends? I like him though. You’ve always been so sure of yourself and you work so hard to get exactly what you want, so I’m sure you don’t have this problem with Hannah. She’s very lucky to have you!!! I’m not exactly sure why I’m writing you other than to say…don’t stop coming over. I know you’re not good at this communication stuff. I don’t blame you. Your dad does
n’t talk much, and your mother was always business first and then she died. So you don’t understand exactly how girls work. =) Just know this – I don’t want to lose you. Please come over. A lot. But text first. You can still use my back door.
I love you!! Katie
PS. I’m open!!! LOL! Jon Mayweather is so funny.
PPS. I just realized your birthday is in 2 weeks!!! You’ll be 18!!!!!!!
I read the email twice, hunting for hidden clues and hints like Hannah said she had been dropping. Afterwards, I was just as puzzled as before. But I was glad I could visit her. I wonder what Hannah will think of that?
Chapter Fifteen
Friday, September 21. 2017
Friday morning. Game day. On game days, the events leading up to the evening often seem to hurtle by in a blur.
I woke up early and ate a lot of fruit. I skated around Mr. Ford, who appeared to be in an odious mood. After we watched the morning show, he passed out voting cards so we could nominate our peers for the Homecoming Court. I nominated Hannah and Cory, and let Lee submit my card so I could avoid close proximity with the teacher.
“Dude, I heard about you and Hannah,” he said when he returned.
“What’d you hear?”
“That you two are an item. Duh.” “We’re not an item. I’m taking her out on a date,” I said. “Where’d you hear that?”
“From everyone, dummy. Tom and Rayne and everyone in the Physics homework chat-room last night. Maybe Andy will let you borrow his SUV.”
“Lee. Shut up.”
Later, arriving at Spanish, I saw that Katie had worn her jersey again with my number on it. The sight of her, beautiful, resplendent, and beaming, rendered me almost immobile. This reaction to her was becoming a chronic problem. Each instance that I saw her, I ached. I gathered myself, forced my breathing to slow, and sat down.
“You look really nice,” I said.
She glanced at me furtively and said, “Thanks?”
“What? I’m not allowed to give you a compliment?” I smiled.
“When is the last time you complimented me?” she shot back.
“I thought you knew,” I said. Lamely.
“Well, I like it. Do it more often.”
“Thanks for the letter,” I said, changing the subject. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot. And I’ve missed visiting you.”
She lit up like someone had started a fire inside of her, and said, “Really? Good! Then where have you been, silly? I’ve missed you too.”
“We should study Spanish soon,” I said.
“Definitely. Absolutamente.”
She smiled throughout the rest of Spanish class.
When I walked into the cafeteria for lunch, Cory and Lee were glued to the television. I got a chocolate milk and joined them, taking a bite out of my apple.
“What are you watching?” I asked.
“More Outlaw stuff, dude.”
“Ah jeez,” I groaned. “What did I…I mean…what did he do now?”
“Nothing,” Cory said, not taking his eyes from the TV.
“Some minority activist groups are staging a protest near police headquarters,” Lee said.
“Why?”
“The Outlaw. Those two dudes at the ATM were Latino, right? And then everyone at the house he attacked the other night was either black or Latino.”
“So?” I asked.
“So, the minority group thinks he’s a racist, bro.”
“Come on,” I said. “How can the Outlaw help what ethnicity they were?”
“Dunno. Maybe he goes looking for them?”
“That’s absurd,” I laughed. “No he doesn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Wait. One of the guys that attacked Natalie was white!” I nearly shouted.
“The guy in the hospital was hispanic, dude.”
I growled, “Yeah but the other guy was white. The one that got away.”
“Again. How do you know?”
Whoops! I shut up.
On screen, a radical group was burning an effigy, a wooden doll with an Outlaw mask on. Apparently there were two protests. The peaceful group had denounced the actions of the extreme group, but still…the image on screen was shocking. I saw a sign which read, ‘He’s An Outlaw For A Reason! He’s A Criminal!’
“Cory, you’re black,” I said. “Does the Outlaw bother you?”
“I don’t know,” Cory grunted, staring quietly at the screen. “Maybe.”
I shook my head in disbelief. How had this gone so wrong? I said, “I don’t get it.”
“It’s okay. You’re white,” Cory said. “We see the world differently.”
“You know that I’m not racist, right?”
“Course. You white but you alight,” Cory grinned. “Got a good heart. Plus, you got no white friends.”
“I imagine the Outlaw will never show up again,” I said. “Probably didn’t realize the mess he was causing.”
“Naw, he’ll be back,” Lee said. “He’s getting attention. He’s in the news. That’s addictive.”
“No it’s not,” I said. “It’s awful.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because…” I stammered. My mouth was going to get me in trouble. “Because…”
“Oh right,” Lee said. “Because of the football stuff.”
“Right! Because of the football stuff.”
Hannah wore her cheerleading outfit like the rest of the cheerleaders. Her long shapely legs rested on the back legs of my desk in English and she would intermittently nudge me with her shoe. She gave me a little bag of chocolates with a flirtatious note. After class and before I could get up, she lowered herself neatly into my desk and perched on my lap.
“I think I should sit like this in English for the rest of the semester,” she said.
“I don’t think I’d learn a thing about English,” I said. “And that would be okay.”
She laughed.
“Did you know everyone is talking about us being a couple?” I asked.
“Rumors,” she sighed and shook her head, causing her ponytail to sway playfully behind her.
“It’s strange that people think we’re interesting enough to talk about,” I observed.
“That’s not strange,” she said. “That’s the whole point.”
Katie’s mom made us spaghetti for dinner. Katie’s mom also invited Sammy.
He didn’t say much, mostly just listened and laughed. He was almost as short as Lee, but I didn’t point this out.
That night, Andy led the team to an impressive victory on the football field. I’d forgotten how good he was. He stood like a rock in hurricane, shouldering aside the chaos and making it look easy. No wonder colleges thought he was one of the most talented quarterbacks in the state. Afterwards he had a big party at his house, and I hadn’t been invited. Or at least I didn’t feel invited. I discovered later that Hannah went.
The next week life returned to normal. The Outlaw didn’t make the news. Dad had no seizures. Katie and I got along. Andy returned to being the king of the school. Natalie North didn’t text me. Hannah was distantly affectionate. Lee came over. I fought zero bad guys.
Normal. Calm. Boring.
It didn’t last.
Chapter Sixteen
Friday, September 28. 2017
Andy got into a fight with Jon Mayweather. Rumors were it was over Hannah. Andy threw a punch, missed, connected with a wall, and snapped three bones in his hand. Pop. His season was over and I was the starter. I’m glad I wasn’t there when it happened.
The Burbank Bears were our first real test. We had beaten Pasadena and San Fernando and one other team, but that was expected. However the Bears were really good. The Patrick Henry Dragons were ranked first in the SoCal Region, we were third, and the Bears were sixth. The Bears were ranked tenth in the entire state and we were fifth.
The air was thick with tension. Gone was the crowd’s rapturous certainty of a victory already being ce
lebrated before kickoff. Our fans eyed our opponents worriedly, and their fear was contagious.
The Bears’ unstoppable rushing attack was legendary. Their running backs led the state in yardage every year. However our defense hadn’t given up a run of over nine yards yet. An unstoppable force was meeting an immovable object, and I knelt on the sidelines to watch.
The Bears’ offensive came off the line like a pack of maulers. They clawed and shoved and hit and snarled, and their running backs charged like wild beasts, buckling and howling, and refused to be tackled until all our players piled on. On the sidelines their coach bellowed orders and screamed.
During the first series, they gashed holes into us and then we pushed them back. They’d rush for seven yards, we’d swarm them for a loss of three, and then they’d rush for eight more. When the Bears finally kicked a field goal after an astonishing eight minute drive, both sides come off the field exhausted and bloody.
Our offense took the field to expectant cheers. I approached the line warily after we broke huddle. The Bears’ defense was the biggest yet, a hulking mob of bruisers.
On our first play, my offensive line disintegrated and I was sacked. They pulverized me, bruising my ribs and grinding grass down my jersey. On the second play, their middle linebacker and Jesse met in a vicious collision and he lost the ball.
Fumble!
All twenty-two players on the field descended on the schizophrenic football, including me. During the melee, a Bear squared up and ran through me, pow! The next thing I knew the world was tumbling sideways like a pinwheel before coming to a rest upside down.
The Bears recover the fumble!
I stared numbly up into the sky at the grid of lights beginning to hum. Cory appeared above me and offered to help me up.
“That hurt,” I said.
The Bears kicked another field goal thanks to a herculean effort by our defense, and we ran back onto the field.
“Hut!” I called. The offensive line staggered but held. I took one step back, set and threw a dart at Jon Mayweather.
Interception!
One of their defenders blew past our blockers, picked the ball cleanly out of the air and scampered untouched into the end zone. The crowd cried out in dismay and then went silent.