The Perfect Secret

by Rob Buyea

  “I don’t know. What?”

  “I have a surprise,” he said.

  “Whaddaya mean?”

  “I brought a surprise for Coach. And you.”

  I stopped. “It’s not a snake or some crazy thing like that, is it?” With this kid you never knew what to expect.

  “No. This is better.”

  “Really?”

  “Really!” he exclaimed.

  “Okay. I can’t wait to see what it is.” I hoped I didn’t regret saying that.

  “I can’t wait to show you,” he said.

  Well, turns out wait is what we did. Our bus was late, so we ended up standing around outside the school for close to an hour. I shoulda known then that this wasn’t gonna be a typical day at the Senior Center.

  Since we got there later than normal, Scott’s grandpa and Coach were hanging out in the Community Hall with everyone else. They were passing the time playing cards and munching on a bowl of mixed nuts.

  “We didn’t think you were coming,” Grandpa said. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Our bus was late picking us up,” Scott explained, grabbing a handful of nuts.

  “The bus was late?” Coach repeated. “Probably those darn kids from Thomson High messing around again. They’re the hooligans who let all the air out of our tires so that we got to the game late and didn’t have time for any of our pregame warm-ups.”

  It amazed me how Coach could remember things like this in such detail with the right trigger. I always got excited when it happened ’cause I loved hearing his war stories. “What did you have the team do?” I asked.

  “The boys warmed up on the sideline as best they could, and then we hit Thomson High with our own surprise—”

  “You started with the onside kick, didn’t you?” Scott interrupted.

  “That’s right, Junior. It was the perfect play. We caught them off guard and recovered the ball and had all the momentum from the get-go. All that bus nonsense and no warm-up garbage was forgotten after the first play. We blew them out.”

  “I know what the onside kick is,” Scott said. “I’ve been studying. I’ll show you.”

  So here was his surprise. He grabbed a second handful of nuts and lined them up in formation. Scott was so excited that he actually demonstrated several different versions of the onside kick. I won’t lie. I was impressed. The kid was going a mile a minute, but he definitely needed a lesson on Xs and Os so he could do this stuff on paper. At this rate he’d be drawing plays in the dirt to show our coaches what he meant.

  “Told you he was smart,” Grandpa said to Coach.

  I waited for Coach’s response, but he never said anything. When I inched closer, I saw he was wearing that glossed-over look again. He was gone. Must have been that Magenta was watching, ’cause she showed up and helped him back to his room.

  “That’s been happening every so often,” Grandpa said. “When it does, it’s better to have him in his own room because he’s less likely to get confused. When he’s confused, he can get angry.”

  Me and Scott played cards with his grandpa for the rest of our visit, and after Magenta returned, she rounded us up ’cause we were “out of time.” That was the exact word I couldn’t get out of my brain—“time.” How much time did Coach have left? We needed a special play now, before it was too late.

  NATALIE KURTSMAN

  ASPIRING LAWYER

  Kurtsman Law Offices

  BRIEF #3

  Early August: A Business Meeting

  Today’s objective: Get the story from Agnes and Eddie.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” I said, taking my seat at the table. Randi sat next to me.

  “Uh-oh,” Eddie said. “This feels like a business meeting today, Agnes. Natalie’s got that serious look in her eyes again.”

  I dumped the dominoes onto the table and spread them around with my hand. “Instead of referring to this as a business meeting, how about we think of it as a working game day?” I suggested.

  “I’m game,” Eddie said, then smirked. For an older woman she could be remarkably witty.

  “Okay,” Agnes agreed.

  We selected our beginning set of dominoes, and then Randi placed the first brick down because she had the highest double. Play proceeded with each of us taking a turn. I didn’t rush the conversation, but after two rounds I decided I’d waited long enough.

  “Being the smart women that you are, I’m sure you already know what I’m going to ask,” I began.

  “She’s trying to soften us up, Agnes. Don’t fall for it,” Eddie said. She winked at me, and Randi chuckled. This was the game Eddie was having fun playing, not dominoes.

  “Go ahead, Natalie,” Agnes said. “Never mind her. Ask your questions.”

  Agnes was a taskmaster. Between the two of us, we’d keep this meeting on track.

  I glanced around the room, making certain there were no eavesdroppers. Since we’d arrived late, both Coach and Mrs. Magenta were present in the Community Hall; we had to be careful. I leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice. “Before we left last time, you warned us that there is more to Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Magenta than we know. We’d like to know what we don’t know.”

  Agnes and Eddie let out long breaths.

  “Their story is a deeply sad and painful one,” Agnes whispered. “I know you girls desperately want to hear it so that you can help these two women, but Eddie and I don’t feel it’s our place to tell.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned. I sat back, disgusted. I played my next domino—with some authority.

  “I realize that’s not what you wanted to hear,” Agnes continued, “but I trust you can understand how we feel, because you’re two very smart young ladies.”

  “It’s your turn,” I snapped at her.

  “Don’t get nasty, Natalie,” Eddie said. “That doesn’t fit you. And it won’t help you, either. Just because you can’t get Pearl and Olivia together here doesn’t mean you’re out of hope. You need to figure out how to bring them together at your school, that’s all.”

  “We can do that,” Randi said. “But don’t you think knowing their story would help us do a better job?”

  “No,” Eddie was quick to say. Gone was her usual foolishness. “Forget the story. The past is the past. Stop going after it. Pretend you don’t know there even is a story and just do your best to help them like you had planned all along. The story will come to you on its own, when it’s ready.”

  Like you said yourself, Natalie, better to appear innocent than manipulative. Agnes and Eddie are keeping you innocent.

  “Let me ask the two of you a question,” Agnes interjected. “Who’s the lucky one in that family?” She nodded to her left, and I glanced and saw Mrs. Magenta helping a confused Coach back to his room. I saw the sadness in Gavin’s face as he watched his old friend walking away. “Coach is losing his mind,” Agnes continued, “which is a terrible shame, but also a small blessing. He’s free from the burden of painful memories. On the other hand, Mrs. Woods not only carries the burden with her every day, but she’s also watching her husband slowly slip away. She’s the strongest woman Eddie and I know, but how much more can she possibly endure?”

  “You kids gave her new life last year,” Eddie said. “Pearl told us all about you long before you showed up with Olivia’s program. Don’t give up on her.”

  I won’t say I was happy leaving the Senior Center that afternoon, but I understood, and I respected their wishes. Maybe Agnes and Eddie didn’t make the best informants, but they were good friends for not airing Mrs. Woods’s dirty laundry.

  When we arrived back in front of school, I pulled the Recruits together and passed out copies of the emergency phone tree document I had created. “Start thinking of ways to get Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Magenta together in school,” I said. “If anyone comes up with an idea
, initiate this phone tree by calling the person after your name.”

  “We’re running out of time,” Gavin said. “This is serious.”

  We stood there looking at one another. I saw a mix of sadness and worry and doubt in my friends’ faces. It was time to lead. “We’ll come up with something,” I said, providing the optimism that was needed. “Trust in one another. We’re a team.”

  “Hands in,” Scott ordered. “One. Two. Three.”

  “Team!” we shouted.

  After the day’s visit to the Senior Center, everyone was quiet and down in the dumps. I couldn’t tell you what had happened because I wasn’t there to see any of it.

  We were late getting to the center, so when we finally arrived, Mrs. Ruggelli didn’t waste any time. She found Mark and me and told us to get in her car.

  “Where’re we going?” Mark asked.

  “To Best Buy so you can get what you need to start on this project.”

  Mark punched me in the arm. “Dude, did you hear that? We get to buy a TV today.”

  “I heard,” I said, punching him back.

  We hopped in Mrs. Ruggelli’s car, and away we went. It didn’t take us long to get there. We parked and went inside.

  “I need to use the restroom,” Mrs. Ruggelli said. “Start without me. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

  “Okay,” we said, and nodded. We headed for the TVs and had three different people ask us if we needed any help before we even got there. It was kind of annoying, but nothing compared to what was about to happen.

  “Dude, we should get one of those new curved ones,” Mark said, pointing to the biggest and baddest TV on display. “Those things are the bomb. The old farts would love it.”

  “Yeah, and those TVs cost thousands of dollars.” I pointed to the price tag. “I don’t think Mrs. Ruggelli wants that. We can get this large flat-screen for way less and still have money to buy what we need for a surround sound system and movie player.”

  “And a popcorn machine,” Mark said.

  “You’re starting to sound like Scott.”

  He punched me in the other arm.

  We studied the various flat-screens and quickly narrowed down our decision. It was either the Sony or the Samsung.

  “You boys need some help?” a voice behind us asked.

  My skin tingled. This was no store worker. I turned. The voice belonged to Chris, my brother’s number one goon and my biggest tormentor. His sidekick goon, Garrett, was missing.

  “What’s wrong? Can’t even say hi?” Chris shoved me.

  I closed my eyes like a little kid, hoping that would make the bad thing disappear. “Yo, I’m talking to you, punk.” He shoved me again—harder.

  “Can I help you with something?” It was Mrs. Ruggelli’s voice. “Is everything okay here, Trevor?” she asked, walking toward us.

  I nodded.

  “Who’s this, your new babysitter?” Chris jeered.

  I felt the heat rising up my neck and into my cheeks. I glared at him.

  “No, I’m not,” Mrs. Ruggelli responded. “And for your information, this tough-guy act you’re trying to pull just shows how much growing up you’ve got left to do. These boys are way ahead of you in that department. I’d say you’re the one in need of a babysitter.”

  “You’re the one in need of—”

  “Leave us alone,” I said, finding my voice and stepping forward. I wasn’t about to let him bully Mrs. Ruggelli. No way. I took a second step forward, and Mark was right beside me. That was when I realized we were almost as tall as Chris now, and I think he realized it, too.

  “Losers,” he spat as he turned and walked away.

  “Who was that?” Mrs. Ruggelli asked.

  “No one important,” I said. “Which of these TVs do you like better?” I pointed to our two options. The last thing I wanted was to talk about Chris.

  Mrs. Ruggelli was cool and didn’t push it. She picked a TV, and then Mark and I carried it to the front so we could pay for it along with the other things we had in our basket. I’d thought our excitement with Chris was over, but I was wrong. The second we tried walking out of the store, the alarm blasted. The security man stopped us and had to check everything in our bags to determine what was triggering the alarm. He couldn’t identify the item, so we were asked to empty our pockets. Seeing the way Mrs. Ruggelli looked at us—like she thought we’d stolen something—hurt. But it burned to see Chris laughing as he snuck past security and the alarm.

  “Found it,” the officer said. He pulled some lightweight electronic device out of Mark’s hood. “Not sure how that got in there,” he said.

  “Me neither,” Mark responded, but that was a lie. We both knew how it had gotten there.

  I stared out the store windows and spotted Chris running across the parking lot. He pulled two different video games from under his shirt before getting in my brother’s car. When he yanked the passenger door open, I saw the look on Brian’s face. In that instant I went from worrying about crossing paths with my brother to worrying about him.

  The Regionals brought together the best girls from six different states. It was insane. The arena alone made it clear that this was a mega event, but add to that the parking people, the ticket and admissions people, the concessions, and the building, and there was no mistaking that this was serious business. A lot of the girls participating in the competitions throughout the year tried their best but were also just having fun. The Regionals were different. The girls walking around had that eye-of-the-tiger thing Gavin loved to talk about from those Rocky movies. These girls weren’t about fun—just about winning. I could have let that intimidate me, but I didn’t. Instead it got me psyched. I was ready. I belonged here. I had prepared. My body tingled with nervous energy.

  First up in my rotation was the bars. I loved the bars, but I had too much adrenaline surging through my veins. Right off the bat I forgot to do my basic kip and went straight into a pull-over. I knew it as soon as it happened. A missed skill was an automatic deduction, but I didn’t let that slow me down. I flew high through the air and nailed my landing. I ran off the mat and high-fived Coach Andrea. “Gymnastics 101.”

  “Fly high and stick your landing,” she said. “Great start.”

  It wasn’t my best score ever, but I still posted a strong one. There were a couple of other girls who made mistakes and scored low, but none were crying like I sometimes saw at my regular meets. We still had three events to go, so no one was about to quit. No way.

  “Composure,” Coach Andrea reminded me. “It’s a long day. Don’t get too high. Don’t get too low. Stay focused.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  And I did. After bars I matched my personal best on beam and I delivered another flawless routine on floor, which earned me the highest score of all the gymnasts. With one event left, I was in the top five all-around scores. I couldn’t have hoped for a better day. After every routine my group in the bleachers went nutso.

  “If people didn’t know who you were before this, they do now,” Coach Andrea said. “And I’m not saying that because of your fan club. You’ve been awesome today, Randi. I’m very proud of you.”

  Coach Andrea wrapped her arm around my shoulders, and I glanced up at my section. Mom gave me a thumbs-up, and my friends cheered wildly. The guys stood behind my mom and Mrs. Kurtsman with their shirts off. They had painted a different letter from my name on each of their chests. Mark was the R, Scott was the A, Gav was the N, and Trevor was the D. Last in line, wearing a plain white T-shirt (for obvious reasons) with an I painted on it, was Natalie.

  “Randi, listen,” Coach Andrea said. “If you choose to do your regular vault, you will almost definitely finish in the top five.”

  “You mean if I play it safe.”

  “Yes. Safe, and maybe smart,” Coach Andrea said.

>   “Smart because if I mess up on the harder one, then I could get a bad score and drop out of the top five.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Or I could nail the harder one and potentially get a medal.”

  Coach Andrea smiled. “It’s your decision.”

  I glanced up into the stands again. When I saw Gav, I thought of Clifford, which I know sounds weird, but I suddenly realized that the sentence Gav had a problem with would be better if it made it clear that Clifford had given his best effort. Then his smiling after losing would be somewhat understandable. If I didn’t try the harder vault, I would always wonder.

  “I’m going for it,” I said. I’d be able to smile afterward no matter the outcome.

  “Let’s do it!” Coach Andrea exclaimed.

  When it was my turn, I saluted the judges and stepped onto the runway. I took my mark, and then I shot out of my stance, sprinting with all the power I could muster. I exploded off the board, and everything after that was a disaster. I landed on my hands and knees.

  Awful! But I still had my second attempt, so I picked myself up and walked back to my starting point. I saluted the judges and stepped onto the runway for my second, and final, vault. I can do this, I told myself. I flew down the track, hit the board, and soared through the air. My form might not have been perfect, but I added the extra twist and stuck my landing—and then I smiled like never before.

  I didn’t get the highest score, but I had attempted the most difficult vault of the afternoon. In the end, I won four event medals and scored well enough that I finished standing on the podium in third place for all-around. When I tell you that this was the happiest day of my life, I’m not exaggerating. When your mom cries tears of joy and pride, it’s hard to explain just how that makes you feel inside. After the awards ceremony my friends gave me hugs and congratulations, and Coach Andrea picked me up off the ground, she was so happy.