A large crowd of boys had gathered around them in the locker room. Mike knew this could make or break his entire high school experience. He thought, If I back down, I’ll look weak. I have to stand up to the Moose. This is it, Mike, the big showdown. He recalled the last run-in with the Moose on the bus. Now was his time to pay that fucker back.
The Moose pushed Mike into the lockers. “What are you gonna do, pussy? C’mon! Cry for me, speedy!”
Mike was filled with pent-up rage and rushed toward the Moose with that same blinding speed he had demonstrated on the field. Utilizing some of the martial arts skills he had learned over the summer, Mike let loose a volley of punches to the Moose’s face, leaving behind a bloody nose, but to his horror a still standing Frank “The Moose” Peterson.
In a brash, animated and booming voice, the Moose laughed and said, “Fuck’n A! That was awesome. It didn’t hurt, but damn man, you whaled on me pretty good. And look, you even gave me a bloody nose. No one but my old man has ever done that before!”
Puzzled, Mike stepped back, waiting for that unaffected mountain of flesh to bring the pain.
Instead, the Moose came up to Mike. “Good job man, you’re all right!”
Still wet with sweat from the tryouts, he gave Mike a big bear hug.
Repulsed, Mike thought, Yep, there’s that old familiar Moose stench I remember.
Smelly, but relieved, Mike gathered his stuff up and went to meet Sheila, Katie and his father outside.
Sheila came up to hug him and said, “Whew! You reek, sweetie!”
Mike laughed and told her, “I promise it’s not from me.” He went on to tell her all about his encounter with Frank in the locker room.
“You hit him? Oh, my word, you hit Frank? Frank the Moose? And you’re still alive? I’m impressed.”
Mike’s confidence was at a new all-time high as he said, “Believe it or not, he’s actually pretty cool.”
Big Mike had just finished talking with the coach. He walked over to Mike and told him, “Congratulations son, you did it. The coach was really impressed by you. You’re well on your way. Turning to Sheila and Katie, he asked, “Can we give you ladies a ride home?”
After Katie got out of the Jag, Big Mike asked Sheila if she would like to come over for dinner and help them celebrate Mike’s football debut. “Nothing fancy, mind you, just some pizza.”
Sheila excitedly answered, “Sure thing, but I better check with my dad.”
“Of course. Why don’t we all go up and ask him? I’d like to meet your father.”
Two hours later, Sheila was at Mike’s house. At dinner, Nancy said to Sheila, “So, are you a cheerleader?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Just call me Nancy, dear.”
Reservedly, Sheila answered, “Okay, Nancy. I never thought about cheerleading before.”
“Well, honey, you are more than pretty enough and you look like you take good care of yourself. Let me tell you all about . . .”
Nancy stole Sheila away to the other room, where she shared all her tales of past glory being the high school Cheer Captain and how she met Big Mike in college because she was a cheerleader.
“Well, they’ll be a while,” Big Mike kidded. “Once your mom gets started on the cheerleader talk, it’s all over.”
From the other room, “I HEARD THAT!”
“And yet she hears everything.”
At the end of the evening, Mike walked Sheila home. When they got to her house, she told him, “Thank you for being a gentleman, and thank you for a wonderful evening.”
Mike fumbled around for what to say. “You’re welcome.”
Sheila laughed. “Have you ever kissed a girl?”
Mike laughed nervously and said, “Of course!”
“Besides your mom, I mean.”
Mike innocently looked down at the ground. Sheila had her answer. She told him, “You’re adorable,” as she pulled him down to her and kissed him good night. Mike was trembling, but was an eager student and quickly picked up the art of the French kiss. Sheila pulled away and said, “Wow, are you sure you’ve never done this before?”
Mike blushed. “You’re my first.”
“I’m hoping maybe I’ll be your only soon. But I better get inside.
It’s late. Good night, Mike.”
The two kissed one more time before she skipped into the house. This is going to be a great year, he thought as he walked home.
***
Two months went by, and one Saturday evening when the family was on their run, Mike saw a for sale sign on the house across the street. He asked his parents, “So what ever happened with the people across the street? I see a realtor sign up again. They didn’t last too long. I was wondering what ever happened to their daughter . . . Sarah, I think it was? I haven’t seen her around. She seemed a little off to me.”
His dad answered, “I don’t really know, but they must be gone. I haven’t seen them around for a while either. That is strange.”
Actually, Big Mike did know what happened. Shortly after Sarah was taken away, Sarah’s father came to speak to Big Mike and Nancy to apologize for everything that had happened. Sarah’s father told him that they would be leaving the area, going somewhere new where Sarah could get some good help. He told Big Mike that she wouldn’t cause any further problems for them.
Big Mike never saw the point of telling Mike the truth about Sarah. He was safe now and living a good life. He was popular and had a beautiful girlfriend, everything a parent could ever want for their child.
The year progressed nicely, and Mike became an accomplished football player—one of his Coach’s favorites. Nancy and Big Mike never missed a game and Nancy became the stereotypical football mom with a banner with his name on it, yelling and screaming, blowing an air horn for her son from the stands, driving all the other parents nuts.
Mike was so good, in fact, that he was moved up from the freshman team to the junior varsity squad. Mike progressed into the starting quarterback position with the Moose as his center. Mike and the Moose became very good friends that year and spent all their free time together. During the game, Mike could not have asked for a better center because Frank was bigger and tougher than any nose tackle in their division. The Moose never let Mike take one sack the entire season.
Nancy had talked Sheila and Katie into trying out for cheerleading and both girls were now junior varsity cheerleaders. Nancy became so involved that she volunteered at the school as a cheerleading coach.
Mike and his dad would watch Sunday football together on the big screen, cheering and screaming all Sunday afternoon and into the evening, while Nancy and Sheila would talk girl talk in the kitchen.
One day in the summer of 1986, Mike was at home and Sheila came over to spend some time with him. Mike’s father was at work and Nancy would be teaching aerobics all afternoon. They had the house to themselves. Mike suggested they go up to his room and listen to some CD’s, something they had done many times before.
Mike and Sheila had been going steady for almost a year. They had never really talked about sex before, but Sheila had been thinking about it, a lot. Mike was lying on his bed, staring at the now barren ceiling where Anna had once resided. Crunchy was still in the same hiding place, and got regular use, but he had a girlfriend to fantasize about now and didn’t need a one-dimensional poster girl.
Sheila was lying in his arms when she asked him, “Don’t you have anything more romantic we could listen to?”
Mike said, “Sure, babe.”
He got out of bed and went over to his stereo. He sorted through his collection of over two hundred CD’s and found Barry White. His father had always told him that Barry White was the mood man. He
placed the disc in the player then asked, “How’s this?”
He heard a click, and then, “Mmm hmm, that’s what I’m talking about.”
Mike turned around to see Sheila standing by his now closed bedroom door, wearing only her lacy pink panties and
bra.
Mike swallowed hard and began to sweat. “Wh . . . what are you doing?” he asked, apprehensively.
“Well, Mister, you had your birthday a few weeks ago and I figured it was time I gave you your gift.”
“But you gave me that CD and took me to dinner.”
“Oh, that was the decoy gift. I wanted to wait for the perfect time to give you your real present. Me.”
Seeing that he was uneasy, Sheila said, “Relax, we don’t have to.”
Without hesitation, Mike countered, “No, no I want to. But, I’ve never . . . ”
“Shhh, I know honey. I haven’t, either. I love you and I want you to be my first.”
Sheila summoned Mike to the bed. Like a moth to a street light, Mike was drawn in. They embraced, then Sheila told Mike, “Get my shorts from the floor and look in my pocket. I took something from my brother for us to use when I went to his apartment the other day.
Mike pulled from her pocket a condom. A rubber? Mike thought.
With trembling hands, Mike opened the foil package that concealed the purple ring. It was slippery. He said, “How do I . . . ”
“Relax stud, Katie and I were practicing on a banana yesterday. Lie back and let me take care of it.”
Mike and Sheila consummated their love for the first, but definitely not the last time that summer. Crunchy was discarded, and in the secret hiding place, Mike now maintained an ample supply of condoms. The two remained a hot item all the way through to the summer of their junior year when Mike and Frank went away to football camp for four weeks. This was the first time they had been apart in almost two years.
At first, Mike would call every night, but by week two, he was calling less often. He would tell Sheila that they were working out really hard and that he would fall asleep as soon as he got back to the hotel room. It wasn’t long before Sheila realized that Mike had been going to parties, and then she found out from some of the other players’ girlfriends that he had been with another girl.
When Mike returned home, Sheila confronted him about his activities. Her eyes were moist with pre-tears. “So, you want to be honest with me for once and tell me what you were really doing this past month?”
When Mike saw her, his heart sank. She really was his first true love, and he knew he had screwed up big time. Mike made the most mature decision he would ever have to make during his entire adolescence. He decided that it would be better to be honest with her than lie to her, even if it meant losing her.
Mike started crying, “I’m so sorry I hurt you, Sheila. I love you more than anything in the world. I don’t know what got into me.”
“I love you too, you jerk, but you know this changes everything. How can I ever trust you again?”
Mike told her, “I understand. I can’t believe I did this to you.”
“You’ll always be my prince, but it is what it is. Who knows what the future will bring us? But I’ll always be here for you. I will always love you.”
Mike and Sheila broke up; however, they remained close friends throughout high school and she never harbored any resentment toward him. There were more than a few times that she thought they might even get back together again.
Mike dated many girls throughout the rest of his high school career, and became quite adept at the art of breaking a young lady’s heart. However, the only heart he ever truly had any remorse over was Sheila’s.
It was his senior year, and Mike was the starting varsity quarterback and the team Captain. Nancy was the most obnoxious mom on the sidelines with her posters that read “GO #6.” She would scream so loudly that he could always pick her out of the crowd. At the Homecoming game, Mike led the Eagles to their final victory for the regular season. Playoff bound, Mike was the game hero.
Their team finished with a winning record of nine and one. They had made it to the playoffs and were playing a team that they had beaten decisively earlier in the season.
With twenty seconds on the clock, the game tied and with nothing to lose, the opposing team went for a field goal from the Eagles’ forty-two-yard line.
Mike was confidently preparing to take the field. “No way can he make that, it’s impossible. We’re gonna have great field position, guys.” They had heard that this kicker was good, and he hadn’t missed a field goal or extra point all night. He had joined their team midway through the school year, after the two teams met the first time. Mike said to his teammates, “Don’t sweat it guys. I mean, for fuck’s sake, it’s a 59-yard attempt! Get your asses ready to go out with me and win this thing! We’re going to State, boys!”
Well, sometimes the most important life lessons sting the most, and that night the class of 1989 Fighting Eagles learned a stinging lesson they would never forget for the rest of their lives.
On that chilly fall evening of Friday, November 24th, 1988, on their own home field, The Fighting Eagles of John F. Kennedy High School watched history in the making. The ball was snapped. The whole play appeared to be going in slow motion. The quarterback placed the ball on the ground in perfect position. The kicker, with steely eyes fixated on his target, approached the ball.
Mike thought, look at this douche bag in his unsullied, comical pale blue and orange uniform with “Carps” emblazoned across the jersey, topped off with a picture of an orange Carp proudly displayed on the appalling, pale-blue helmet. Who ever heard of a fighting Carp, anyway? Really?
The thud was heard all throughout the stadium, and a hush fell over the crowd as the ball propelled from the freak of nature’s foot like a missile from a silo. Straight was the ball’s trajectory as it steadily climbed through the dry night air. The stadium lights were gleaming brightly, and the only sound was that of aggressive young linemen stretching out their bodies trying to get a hand on the ball, possibly the last chance in their lives to be a football hero. But there would be no last-minute heroes that night as the ball sailed through the tangled web of arms and hands as it emerged on its path to victory. The ball looked like it might be a little low as it barely made contact with the lower cross bar, then up and over. Two referees in unison raised their arms. It was good. A new state record. The crowd erupted in reckless abandon. Mike looked up and saw that it was the opposing side that was cheering.
They had lost. Harsh lesson learned.
Mike, with mouth agape, stood there motionless for several minutes. His teammates were sobbing, and even Mike, who had not shed a tear since he and Sheila had broken up, wept too. No State Championship. It was over. No more high school heroics.
The first one to come up to Mike was his now best friend, the Moose, whom he now referred to as Frankie. They hugged and reassured each other that they each had played a great game.
Then Sheila came up to Mike, and she had also been crying. “I’m so sorry, Michael. You were great. I love you.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek.
He watched her walk away, realizing she really was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
In the locker room, Coach Peterson consoled the boys. Here, this giant, bigger than life man also had a tear in his eye. It was comforting for Mike to know that you can be tough and still have feelings. This too, was a lesson that Mike would carry with him for the rest of his life.
Coach’s voice trembled as he prayed with the boys, then told them in a rare, soft-spoken speech that still managed to bellow like thunder, “Boys, you played a hell of a game. You had a near perfect season. You have no reason to walk out of here with your heads hung low. Remember this night for the rest of your lives. Remember, you’re always in the game until you’re not. Tonight, the other team fought till the end. You too, must never surrender. Always stay in the fight. We couldn’t stop the clock, or maybe things would have been different. You will always be champions in my eyes. Now bring it in and huddle up . . . one, two, three . . .”
In unison, the forty-nine players and coaches shouted, “FIGHTING EAGLES!”
Mike had truly transformed himself over the past four years. He was now
the most popular kid in school and was crowned Prom King in addition to Homecoming King. Sheila was crowned Homecoming Queen, but Maria Phillips edged her out for Prom Queen. Mike and Sheila went to the prom together. There, they managed to share a few dances, but his duties as King prevented him from spending as much time with her as they both wanted.
Mike and Frank had both received a college football scholarship to play for Florida Technical University in Jacksonville.
Friday, the day before he was to be leaving for Florida, Mike had one last thing he needed to take care of before he left. He first stopped by Katie’s house and gave her a hug goodbye. They had become good friends through the years. She told him with a tear in her eye, “I’m gonna miss you, dork!”
“I’m gonna miss you, too. Thanks for giving me a chance.”
“You’re welcome, but you’re still a dork. Have you been to
Sheila’s yet?”
“No, I’m going there now.”
“You know she never got over you. She always loved you and still does.”
“I know. I never got over her either. I was such an idiot.”
“Yes, you were, but we all still love you. Take care of yourself, and Frank too.”
Mike waved goodbye and walked next door to Sheila’s house. Her parents weren’t home and he rang the doorbell. He then heard the familiar Yip, yip, yip of Benny coming running to the door. Sheila
opened the door and smiled despondently. “Hi, Dweeb.”
The two embraced. He went in, and they talked for several hours. She told him all about the school in Ohio that she would be going to with Katie. He, of course, bragged about how great a football program Florida had. He shared with her his dream of turning pro one day, and as she always did, she encouraged him. “I know you will.”
Then, in a moment of clarity, he apologized again for hurting her two years before. She told him that she had forgiven him a long time ago and that she would always love him. That day they made a pact. “In ten years, if neither one of us is married, we’ll find each other and get married.” They pinky swore and kissed each other goodbye with the same passionate kiss they had shared the first time in her front yard after he had walked her home.
Epistle of the Damned Page 7