Blind Man's Bluff

by Gene Lembrick

  Brandon says, “We all know that this dude here is the player of all players, the macks of all macks. Well, D.J. is short for Derek Jeter for the New York Yankees.”

  Before Brandon can even finish, Angel figures out the connection.”

  “Oh, I see. Derek Jeter is known for dating dimes for a short while, and then he fires them to go on to the next hot chick.”

  “And he’s Captain Clutch,” adds Brandon.

  “Exactly!” says Chris. “I’m Christopher ‘D.J.’ Greco, kid!”

  All the boys burst out into laughter, and as they exit the locker room they all tell the coach “bye” as he returns to his office.

  “Damn, my phone is dead,” Jesus says once he’s outside.

  “Mine as well,” says Angel. “Brandon, can I use your cell for a second?”

  “Sure.”

  He hands Jesus his cell phone. The twins are professionals at keeping their poker faces when a prank is about to go down. Jesus chose Brandon’s phone because he knows the All-American quarterback won’t feel the coach’s wrath like others may feel. The twins are All-State linebackers, but All-American is an elite level. He calls the coach’s office number; they can hear it ringing because the coach has the window to the office cracked. He hits “end call” as the coach picks up. “DAMMIT!” is heard even though the boys are nearly 30 yards away. The coach gets toothpaste shoved down his ear, courtesy of the Hernandez brothers. Jesus hands Brandon back his phone, and says with a smile, “Good looking out.” Then they run off.

  Brandon’s cell rings; it’s the coach.

  “What’s up, Coach?” he asks. Brandon rolls his eyes at the laughing twins who take off running; they know that he’ll take the weight and won’t snitch them out.

  “Yes, Coach, sorry about that. Extra laps after practice tomorrow? Come on Coach. Okay, I hear you. Bye Coach.” Brandon takes off running after the twins who are nearly out of sight with their head start running from Brandon.

  Austin Lee

  It’s Friday night under the lights for a football game in Bloomfield, Connecticut. It’s Bloomfield’s Brolin High School versus New Britain’s Adams High. It’s a beautiful night, perfect weather for a game in September. Pulling up to the high school in his dad’s 1992 Garnet Red Metallic-colored Cadillac Sedan DeVille is Austin Lee, along with his friends Akil and Malik. There are a few minutes left until the opening kickoff. Austin’s cell phone rings; it’s his girlfriend Jennifer. He ditched her to hang out with his friends for the game. She’s not happy that he’s decided to go to the game with them and not her. Once he sees her name on the cell phone screen, he shakes his head and then takes a deep breath and answers the phone.

  “Hey.”

  “Where the hell are you?”

  Akil says, “Come on, the game starts in a few minutes.”

  “Yeah, son,” says Malik, “calm your chick down and hurry up.”

  Austin places his hand over his phone so that Jennifer won’t hear him and whispers to his friends, “Give me minute, fellas.”

  Both Akil and Malik raise their arms in disbelief. Mr. Williams walks past the boys toward the game. He’s a science teacher for the school; he has all three boys as students.

  “Hey, Mr. Williams, hold up,” says Malik.

  Malik gives Akil the signal for “let’s leave.”

  Mr. Williams waves at Austin and Austin waves back.

  “Later, kid,” Malik says.

  “We’ll see you inside, Austin,” Akil says.

  Austin gives his friends the peace sign as they get out of the car.

  “What’s going on, boys?” Mr. Williams asks.

  Akil and Malik walk into the game with their teacher, leaving Austin alone to work things out with his girlfriend.

  Austin says, “Hey, I’m sorry; I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I want to hang with the boys tonight.”

  Austin looks down between his legs and sees an unfamiliar flower on the floor of his car. He picks it up, and thinks to himself. What the hell?

  As he continues to talk to his girlfriend on the phone, Austin never notices that he isn’t alone in the car. The sectional piece that’s in the backseat that leads to the trunk is opening up. The mask that covers the face of someone appears in the darkness of the trunk. It’s the very same mask worn by the killer of Hailey Peterson years earlier. This killer crawls through the opening, to the backseat, toward the front seat, all the while unnoticed by the occupied Austin Lee. Austin completes his phone call with his girlfriend and hangs up.

  The killer flexes both arms to have the sickles hidden under the shirtsleeves appear. The killer whispers to Austin-

  “Tag, you’re it!”

  Death came swiftly for Austin. Luckily for Akil and Malik, their teacher saw Austin alive as they all walked into the game together.

  • • •

  Fifteen Minutes Later

  About five miles away in the town of Windsor, Connecticut, Washington High is playing an away game against that town’s school, Francis High School.

  Washington kicks the ball off to Francis; Washington will start the game off on defense. The twins both play the outside linebacker positions so no matter which side the ball is run to, you run into one of the two. Francis runs a sweep to the left, resulting in a three-yard loss because of a tackle made by Jesus. The next play is a pass play which is broken up by the secondary of Washington. Third and 13, Francis completes a screen pass for an eight-yard gain; however, it’s not enough for a first down so they’ll have to punt the ball to Washington. For Washington, it’s first down on their own 45-yard line; it’s 11:57 into the first quarter.

  Brandon always makes it a practice to look into the stands for Lucy, his game time inspiration. It takes him a moment to find her, but he eventually sees her in the crowded stands; she waves back at him and blows him a kiss. Brandon jogs out to the field to lead his team’s first chance on offense. Brooklyn and Lauren are leading their fellow cheerleaders in pumping up excitement for East Hartford supporters who made the trip to cheer Washington on. Chris winks at Brooklyn; she winks back at him. Directly behind Brooklyn is Lauren, who thinks that Chris is winking at her because she can’t see Brooklyn’s face. Little do they know, Chris is winking at them both. He figures by the way that they’re standing, he can hit two birds with one stone.

  The first play is a play action post route, given to Brandon by the coach. The center hikes the ball to Brandon; he fakes the hand off to Dominic, the running back, and throws a perfect pass to Chris the wide receiver for a 25-yard gain. The next play is a hand-off to Dominic; this time he runs into the end zone for the touchdown.

  Halftime, both teams head to the locker rooms.

  The Washington coach begins his halftime speech.

  “All right, guys, great job; however, it’s a 60-minute game, not 30 minutes. Those guys don’t want to be embarrassed on their home field, in a packed house, so they’re going to come out fired up and passing in the second half. Angel and Jesus, I want you guys giving heavy pressure to the quarterback. Contain the outside while the interior defense will contain the inside.”

  “Don’t worry, Coach, the defense will continue to son those dudes,” says Angel.

  The players all laugh, but the coaches don’t understand the term Angel used.

  “Son, what the hell are you talking about?” asks assistant coach Armstrong.

  “It means you owned someone like you’re their father,” says Dominic.

  “Okay, I get it, now settle down and get serious,” says Coach Milford. “Brandon, mistake free football. Let’s go, fellas!”

  The Washington Panthers rush out of the locker room full of excitement, ready for the second half of the game. Chris always makes sure that when he’s walking by Francis cheerleaders, he walks by with his helmet off. He wants to make sure that the girls get a real good look at him.
He occasionally has had a few slip him a phone number without his even asking for one. All it takes is his dark hair, dimples and a smile. Being Italian, Chris has a nice olive complexion that makes girls sweat.

  Before the second-half kickoff, the twins go over to the team photographer, Henry; it doesn’t go unnoticed, though no one knows why. They’re setting things up for their next prank.

  “What are the twins doing over there with Henry?” asks Dominic.

  “I have no idea, but it looks suspicious,” says Chris.

  “Don’t even worry about it and get your minds back into the game,” Brandon says.

  Washington wins easily over Francis, 27-10.

  • • •

  Monday morning at Washington High, there is laughter in the hallways as Brandon, Chris, and Dominic arrive. With the magic of Photoshop and Henry, the twins have separate photos blown up into posters of each of the guys laid out on the grass after they’re tackled or wearing an awkward look from a tackle. They make it appear like they were knocked out just like when the boxer Manny Pacquiao was knocked out by Juan Manuel Marquez. One is of Brandon in a boxing ring with a referee counting. Another is of Chris who’s laid out in a wrestling ring with a professional wrestler pinning him on the mat. Dominic is shown laying on the floor with a bunch of small children in a day care as if it’s nap time. The hallway is in tears from laughter. The principal comes over to see what is causing the ruckus.

  Lucy walks up to Brandon giggling. “Baby, they got you good.”

  Even Brandon, Chris, and Dominic join in laughing.

  “Aight, yeah, ya’ll got us,” Brandon says to the laughing twins.

  “We knew the other night you guys were up to something,” Chris adds.

  Dominic says, “One day, I swear...”

  “We’re a little too slick for you, son,” says Jesus. “Dream on.”

  “Well, you’re in trouble now,” says Dominic. “Here comes Captain Comb-over,” the students’ nickname for Principal Hamilton.

  “All right,” says the principal predictably, “everyone break it up, break it up.”

  Principal Hamilton views each one of the photos, and it doesn’t take him long to figure out who’s responsible.

  “Angel and Jesus, take them down and go to my office now! Everyone else, to your classes.”

  The crowd disperses, Hamilton leaves for his office, and the twins begin to remove the posters from the wall.

  When the twins arrive at Principal Hamilton’s office for their expected chewing-out, the secretary directs them to go right in.

  “Close the door, boys,” Hamilton says, his back turned to the door.

  Angel closes the door, and Hamilton spins his chair around to face the twins. He’s laughing so hard that he’s near tears. Once he calms down, he looks at the boys briefly before he speaks.

  “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to control my laughter out there?”

  Angel and Jesus look at each other proudly, and give each other a fist dap.

  “Boys, that’s classic work! I have to lead by example and not join into your pranks, no matter how funny some are. That was harmless and clean, not like when someone put clear wrap over the toilets. What a mess that was.”

  The twins glance at each other without a word.

  “You’re here for an education, not to outdo your last prank on someone with a new one and definitely never to bully anyone. This conversation never leaves this office; if it gets back to me that I didn’t chew you out, you’re both getting a month’s detention, understood?”

  “Yes sir,” the boys say together, and then leave for class.

  Hartford Police Department

  Detective Cooper David is at his desk, going through his reports. He’s going into his fifteenth year in police work. His cubicle-mate Detective Tariq Jordan has three years on the force. Detective Jordan is working while talking on the department phone to his fiancée. Detective David signals him that he should wrap up his phone call, so he does.

  “Tariq, you better be careful. Making personal calls could lead to a suspension.”

  “I’m getting my work done; no worries about this. Besides, when the bill comes out it doesn’t show which phone is being used. I got this, bro’; good look, though.”

  David shakes his head at Jordan’s arrogance.

  “You should get a cell phone.”

  “No, thanks, I’ll let the rest of you suckers pay those outrageous bills. I have a wedding to save for.”

  Detective David changes the subject. “Everything good at home?”

  “Everything’s lovely. Are you and Halina still going to counseling? Think you guys will ever work through your issues?”

  “There’s progress, but a long way to go. We stopped with counseling a year ago now.”

  “Do you even really want to work it out?”

  Detective David stares at the floor for a moment, as if he’s searching for the right words. He then looks at Detective Jordan and says, “Yes and no. I do love her and we have a son to raise so she’ll always be a part of my life. However, this work is so overwhelming at times that it’s hard to balance the two. Being a cop, you’re always on duty. Even when you’re off duty, you’re on duty.”

  Detective Jordan shakes his head in agreement.

  “I have a cousin who’s a state correctional officer,” David continues; “He said they have the same problems maintaining a relationship. That’s probably why the divorce rates among us are so high.”

  “True words, Cooper. I’m hoping not to follow that path and keep things fresh.”

  After a thoughtful pause, Jordan says, “If I’m being too personal, excuse me, but why did you guys develop problems, anyway?”

  David has his back to Jordan, facing his computer. At the question, he spins around to face Jordan, hands clasped behind his head, and draws a deep breath.

  “Between us?”

  “Yes, between us.”

  “Halina and I have been together for 16 years. We were together before I started the job, which was 15 years ago. I’d been busting my ass to get us a home before we started a family. Everything went fine; she’s been very supportive of my career even if I spent crazy hours working. Well, just about two years ago, my best friend since the sandbox days lost his job. His wife kicked him out and eventually, because he turned to the bottle for his depression, he went to live with his mother for a while. I helped him through his addiction as the supportive friend that I feel that I am. He got himself cleaned up and off the bottle. His mother’s place was cramped so he asked if he could crash at our home for a month. After talking it over with Halina, we both agreed that it’d be okay. Worse mistake I ever made. One day, I had an overtime cancelled and made my way home. I walked into the door and saw on the sofa the back of my best friend’s naked ass going north and south on top of my wife.”

  Jordan’s mouth is gaping open, with no words coming out. Then, “That son of a bitch!”

  “I’m an honest guy,” says David, bitterly. “I didn’t deserve that. I’ve never cheated on her despite a handful of offers right here among our female co-workers. That day I lost my best friend two times over, her and him. They both apologized; however, it didn’t help my pain. They both claim it just happened. I asked, how long has this been going on? They claimed that this was their second time. Tariq, explain to me; how does something just happen twice?”

  “Once is maybe an it-just-happened; twice is a routine,” says Jordan, sagely.

  “Exactly.”

  “So what happened that day?”

  “Most men would try to kill the guy; however, why do that if the woman allows it to happen?”

  “That’s true,” says Jordan. “I’d want to rip a guy’s head off, but the woman has the power to say yes or no. Clearly she said yes. Man, I feel for you. Friends like that, who needs e
nemies?”

  “I could clearly walk away but I have a son with her, so me dealing with her is a life-time deal.”

  “How do you feel about her today? And what happened to your friend?”

  “I sent him on his way and haven’t heard from him since. As for her, I’m over the hurt. I’m numb to it; I’ll always love her but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be in love with her again. I haven’t shared a bed with her since and not sure if I care to again.”

  “So if a male friend, cousin, or whoever comes knocking, there’s no vacancy, right?”

  “Unless it’s her blood father, blood brother or some blood relative, hell, no!”

  “If it were me I’d take a ride with him to the motel and pay for a couple nights for him to stay there, shake his hand, and wish him well.”

  “Outside of the counselor, you’re the first person I’ve told. What’s funny is that it doesn’t bother me anymore.”

  “That probably means that you aren’t in love with her anymore if it doesn’t bother you.”

  “You could be right.”

  “No offense,” says Jordan, “but you’re a better man than me. To me, my woman would be damaged goods. If she’s lonely, use the phone to call a girlfriend or buy a dog. If she’s horny, that’s what’s vibrators are for.”

  Detective David laughs. Jordan asks, “Don’t you just hate clumsy friends?”

  David looks confused—“How so?”

  “You know the clumsy type. They’ll be walking along and then suddenly they happen to fall into your woman’s vagina!”

  Their laughter is so loud that their co-workers turn to look at them to make sure everything’s okay.

  “Maybe I am over it; I even shared a laugh with you about it.”

  Peeking through the curtains of his office, Captain Frank Woods is looking at Detective Jordan with disdain. Sitting in a chair behind him is Lieutenant Vincent Roberts.

  “I’m telling you, Vince, as for that Jordan, it’s just a matter of time before he’s the boss around here. He goes from a uniformed officer to a respected detective within a matter of a couple of years. I heard he took the sergeant’s exam and had the highest score. He’ll be chief of police within 10 years unless he screws up.”