Rise

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Rise Page 36

by C. J. Lau


  Chapter 36

  I step out of the player’s rooms, tracing a path to the field. A walk I’ve walked dozens of times. Wearing the blue of NSW, or the green and gold of Australia.

  Today it’s a grey dress Carol ran back to the hotel to get.

  I push my damp hair back into a pony tail and enter the home team technical area. So numb that the sorrow I expect to feel is missing. I’m not a Hockeyroo anymore, but today’s win will be as important as any match I ever played.

  Seeing Darrell brings a sense of calm. “Feeling better?”

  I strap on my knee guard. “Much.” I say before I move to the sideline.

  “I’ll keep the reporters at bay.” She points behind one goal. Police tape laid and news crews gathering. “Call out. If you need anything.”

  My eyes are already scanning the field. Competitive animal rising at Kathy directing the girls. I find my spikes by the bench, the old familiars bring a smile.

  Hang in there, Maggie. We’re going to win this thing for you.

  15 minutes before we start, time to scan the face of every girl in green and black. Nothing, not a single sob or tear. Seeing them hardens me. I won’t cry. For their sake.

  A few heads from the other side of the field turn, following me as I join Kathy. I know they’ve seen it. Everyone’s playing through shock.

  “How are they?” I ask Kathy.

  “Okay, considering,” she answers. “I’m going to do everything I can to help them win.”

  “So am I.”

  We stand together on the sideline a few minutes later. Facing this Maggie-sized void, I hesitate.

  Nancy gets there first. “I know that Maggie’s going to be okay. Let’s make her proud of us. Who’s with me?”

  Brave girl. Getting it out there, I think, nothing but admiration for our Captain.

  “Who’s starting?” Nancy asks.

  I hesitate, rack my brain. This morning, what were those plans?

  “I see no reason to change from Maggie’s prep,” Kathy jumps in, calling off starting girls, then adding, “Anna and Danielle you get first go at marking Emilie and Lauren, but everyone else make sure that someone is on both of them at all times.” Each girl nods as Kathy speaks their name.

  Nancy is called for the toss. The umpires unfamiliar, but their uniforms allow me to focus on the task and nothing else.

  Murwillumbah wins the toss and chooses to start with the ball. Nancy chooses to run away from the crime scene end. The team coming together, one last time.

  Our supporter group cheers the girls into position. I feed off it, like I’ve always done. Turning to Kathy, I have to ask, “You Coach for this one?”

  “Maggie’s the Coach of this team,” Kathy’s voice is quick, her game face on. “If you see a change that needs making, make it. Let’s give her a trophy to come back to.”

  There’s the whistle. The 2002 State Final is underway.

  Murwillumbah play like a team stunned. I can see their eyes drift constantly to the police investigation behind our goals, our girls focused firmly on the turf below their feet.

  I call Brooke over. “They’re distracted. Pounce now. Go for turnovers and cut ‘em to pieces.”

  “Got it, Cat.” Brooke jogs to the sideline as I call Janet off. A quick word with Sam before Brooke runs into position. Sam’s thumbs up says the plan is in.

  Murwillumbah doesn’t notice the formation change. Second big mistake. This one costing them in the next 15 minutes.

  “You’re right,” I say to Kathy. Two goals later. “They’re not playing well at all.”

  “Yes.” Is all I get from her, switching constantly between the field and the notes she’s taking.

  Across at the Murwillumbah bench, Dr Lazarus, staring in frustration, makes me chuckle.

  “Go for a third!” I shout. Our opponents finally realising they chose the wrong end to run to; begin falling back. “Push up!”

  Martina fires a shot just wide. The defending champions sitting back.

  With five minutes to go, my mobile rings. Solo on the caller ID.

  I walk out of earshot of the team before answering. “Hello?”

  Solo’s voice is shaking. “She died in the ambulance.” His words drive into my stomach. A strangled sound escaping.

  I can’t fall. Not now.

  But what can I answer? “I… I—”

  “I loved her. Kept telling her. All that blood…” His voice stops. “Her parents are coming.” The trembles in Solo’s voice take me too. “I don’t know what to say to them.”

  My lip trembles. Tears so close.

  “I’ve got to go,” Solo says quickly. Hanging up to leave me mute. Alone.

  The phone drops, my eyes clenched shut. The wrecking ball hits for real. Breaks me.

  But no tears come. I need to keep them to myself for the sake of the win. Maggie’s win.

  Back in the technical area, Kathy leans over to whisper in my ear. “Solo?”

  A nod is all I give. All there’s time for before a whistle sounds.

  Somewhere, Murwillumbah has pulled one back. Half-time. Goulburn 2 – Murwillumbah 1.

  One last whisper from Kathy. “Don’t tell them until the end.”

  “Here’s the plan to shut down their attack.”

  I’ve ended up in the dressing rooms. I don’t know how. Up against a locker, listening to Kathy, “One less defender and five in midfield for the second half.” Kathy’s hockey speak calms my inner chatter right down. Opening Maggie’s book to the last few pages to sketch a diagram, our tears will wait. “Janet and Brooke, fall back to cover their two attacking midfielders. Two defenders will mark their two strikers and the remaining defender will cover at the back.”

  She stops, waiting for acknowledgement from everyone. And I nod too, remember Bathurst, Wollongong, and Newcastle. Know they’re capable. But am I?

  “Team,” Kathy keeps on, not letting silence in. “None of you need any extra motivation to win. However, it’s not going to be handed to you. Susan is out there telling her team to beat you.” I feel hearts in the room lift as she paces, eyeballing every girl. “Find that courage inside, and play like I know you’re capable of. Take the moments when they come.”

  Maggie’s words. Then silence.

  The cool locker at my back reminds me exactly where I am; I’ve overcome every adversary sitting here through the years. Eyes closed to focus. Thinking, I can hear Maggie’s voice: Prepare for one more.

  I’m a different person by the time I stand up. “Okay girls,” I say. It’s a voice I thought had gone three days ago. “Let’s do this.”

  My heart lifts when they stand as one. Drops again at the sight of Sarah, sobbing in the corner.

  Nancy leads them out.

  “35 minutes Kathy.” I touch her shoulder. Whisper. “That’s all I need.”

  “Deal.” She trails the girls out.

  I go to Sarah.

  “Hey, Champ.” I sink down, picking up my stick.

  It seems like hours before her voice comes. “I don’t want her to die, Cat.”

  “Then make her proud Sarah.” I hand her back my stick. Sarah’s stick now. Even with the news tightening and kicking my stomach, my game face never wavers. “I know you can.”

  She leans her head up against the handle, and I feel the belief rising. A firm hand nudging me toward the door. “Go, Cat. I’ll just be a minute.”

  I make a lonely walk to the field. Hoping she won’t hate me later.

  The noise is a wall of sound. And most of the cheering is for us. The scoreboard gives me my bearings. Had I really been in with Sarah 15 minutes?

  “We’re holding them,” Kathy says. “How’s Sarah?”

  “Alright,” I answer, tears pounding the back of my eyes, but going no further. “Give her a minute.”

  The cheering sends tingles up my body, 20 minutes of the year left, and counting. It’s so easy to forget everything and Coach for the win. Minute after minute picking apart Murwillumb
ah’s plans and countering.

  Sarah reappears, walks straight up to me and Kathy. “I’m ready.”

  “Great.” Kathy points at the Murwillumbah bench. “Just in time. For their one final crack at us.” With a pat, she adds, “You’re on for Angela at the next change. Use your speed.”

  With a nod, Sarah heads for the sideline. Changes made. But the speed picks up, momentum slowly swinging away from us.

  The clock: 3:34 and counting. Taunts me, won’t hurry up.

  “Come on!” Dr Lazarus, Susan, shouts. “Get one back now, and we’ll get them in extra time. Just like last year!”

  And on cue we break; scores level.

  “Your dying Coach has failed you…” One of the foes yells. Reduces Felicity to tears before Anna can return fire. Boos from the crowd within earshot.

  “Fatal mistake,” Kathy points. “Look at Sam.”

  I’m on my feet, bottle the red mist. Sam’s face mirroring mine, a cyclone of determination and rage.

  1:45 to go.

  Anna wins the ball from the restart and passes to Sarah. Fresher legs drawing two Murwillumbah players before finding Sam in the clear. A burst no one on the field can match. Easily wrong footing a defender, and then a second. Sprinting inside the shooting circle. My fists clenching with each move.

  The ball could just as easily been fired from a cannon. Sam’s shot sails past the despairing stick of the keeper to crash into the corner of the goals.

  I scream with every ounce of my being. The stands above erupt.

  Goulburn 3 – Murwillumbah 2. No time for a comeback. Not for the defending Champions. Not even for the Hockeyroo’s, if any were here.

  My eyes never leave Sam, falling to her knees with her own scream. Raising her hands toward heaven. Nancy and Sarah first to arrive, lifting her up, embracing her.

  The umpire blows full time.

  But I can’t set my tears free yet. Someone needs to tell them. I sprint, as fast as I can to the centre. Watch Nancy drop, face in her hands. Sam gets a high five before I’m down by Goulburn’s victorious Captain. My own tears starting to escape. Hands waving the forming huddle closer.

  “Girls! Champions!” I shout, savour victory for a moment longer before my eyes drift through the forest of tired legs to the sideline. Kathy’s corralled the parents, stopped them getting onto the field.

  My time is short.

  “We won it for Maggie,” Nancy cries out, punching at the turf and looking at me.

  “You won it.” I choke back tears. No words ready for what needs to come next. “Maggie’s going…” And by now my face gives it away, girls starting to gasp. “Maggie would have…”

  “No…” Sam, the one who knows me best, crumples to the turf. “No!” Her scream ripping into my soul, a black void opened forever.

  But I need to say it all, for me. “Maggie never made it to hospital. I… I’m so sorry.”

  Now I can set my tears free. And we cry together, because we lost. My misty eyes spotting tears from the sideline too. Kathy’s told them.

  My eyes find Carol. Crying. But her tears give me strength for one last promise. I lift girls to their feet. “I’m so proud of you. Will be here for all of you. You don’t need to go through this alone.” The shivers return, and I barely get the last words out. “I’m going to miss her.”

  The best Captain in the State turns her eyes skyward, holding the trophy aloft. The simple gesture, despite my smile, making tears start anew. Nancy stumbles back to the team. Handing Sarah the trophy next, crying uncontrollably, but acknowledging the polite applause. Next is Sam, raising the trophy briefly before hugging it, looking for comfort it cannot provide. The trophy going around to each girl.

  “Our ride’s here.” A bus pulls up in the distance.

  Murwillumbah and their supporters quickly dispersing. The girls abandon the trophy, heavy legs slogging to the sideline for their gear.

  I gather it, peer into the hollow cup. Goulburn are Champions again, and I helped them get there.

  This one’s for you, Maggie. I stare into the void. The wrecking ball winding up for one final swing. Striking so hard it drops me to my knees.

  This is how I’ll remember this stadium now. Not as Olympic glory, or any victory at all. Only a place of loss.

  I feel Carol fall beside me. Her arms around me as I sob uncontrollably.

  “I’ll get you through this, Cat. Promise.”

  I hug my oldest friend, struggle to believe. Black void growing wider with every thump of my heart.

  “Let’s go home.”

  The End

  ###

  Acknowledgements

  Firstly to my wonderful wife Alison, for your unwavering support and continued motivation through the years. I wouldn’t be the person I am without you.

  To the wonderful team at Nanowrimo, and hundreds of thousands of fellow nanowrimo.org participants. The first draft of Rise was a result of my decision to participate in your 50,000 word writing challenge in November 2012.

  Thank you to E.J. Runyon of Bridge to Story for believing in my work and helping me transform that unruly first draft into the story it has become. In the process helping me be the writer I always wanted to read.

  Thank you to Celina Mina, writing consultant, for your assistance, and incredible eye for detail.

  To all the inspiring people across the towns and cities of country NSW. So much of the spirit of this book came from listening, and experiencing your stories.

 


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