The Climb

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  “It’s really cool your coach is letting me come with you today,” Skyler said. “What’s his name again?”

  “Coach Tomlin. I sort of explained your situation and he was pretty understanding,” CK said cheerfully.

  “Sort of explained?”

  “Yeah, I told him you were an athlete at your old school and that you were in cross country and cycling. He knows you’ve been running with Tracy and me, as well.”

  “Well, I’m more into swimming and cycling nowadays than cross country.”

  “It won’t matter, once he sees what you can do, you’ll be able to get on whatever team you want. He’s making a special exception, so you’re welcome.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. So, this Coach Tomlin seems like a nice guy.”

  “Yeah, he’s good to us. He’s sort of this older, brusque grandfather type of guy. He served in the U. S. Navy and he thinks we’re his troops or something. He constantly reminds us of how tough he had it ‘back in his day.’ He’s rough but everybody loves him.”

  “Cool.”

  “Yeah, this way here you won’t have to start all over. You can carry over some of your athletic prowess.”

  “My athletic prowess?” Skyler said, laughing.

  “It sounded great in my mind. You’ll do fine. We’re late, the team’s already on the field. Let’s get our bikes locked up quickly.”

  “Okay! Lead the way.”

  They pulled into the school parking lot and pedaled to the bike racks. Once they had locked up their bikes, CK led the way as they jogged over to the school’s athletic fields and joined the rest of the track team.

  * * *

  “There are only two ways off this field, maggots. A pine box, or a school bus,” Coach Tomlin yelled. “Keep going!” CK was right, the coach relives his drill sergeant days through the sports teams at the high school.

  Skyler stifled a laugh as he finished his thirtieth burpee. He wiped the sweat that poured down his face with the back of his arm and jumped into burpee thirty-one. Coach had been the first to welcome Skyler to Temple High when they walked on to the field. Then he gruffly ordered him to ‘join the rest of the troops’ so he could ‘see what metal you’re made of.’

  Coach Tomlin, a man with a slightly hunched stature and a small gut, wore beige khaki shorts that sat too high on his waist and a blue, tucked-in Temple High polo shirt. His pale legs disappeared into blue crew socks and matching blue and yellow sneakers. White curls of hair spilled out from underneath the blue and yellow U. S. Navy ball cap he wore. As white as the Coach’s hair seemed to be, dark gray fuzzy eyebrows hovered over the auto-tinting sunglasses that rested on the bridge of his nose. The worn skin of his face told Skyler he had been through some tough times.

  After stretching and core calisthenics—which Skyler enjoyed because the shirtless football team practiced near them—Coach Tomlin sent them off to run something he called the Grinder. The Grinder was a vicious, ten-plus mile route of hills that wove through the farms and orchards of Kinderhook and Valatie. The team’s fast pace pushed Skyler and he quickly remembered why he hated running cross country—because he couldn’t set his own pace. Since this was his audition to all things sports at Temple High, he gave it his best and kept up with everyone else. Upon their return to the track field, Coach gave them five minutes to stretch but cut it short because he insisted they took too long to run the Grinder so he propelled them through crunches, sit-ups, and now, burpees.

  When Skyler and most of the experienced team members, including Daren—who had been staring at Skyler since they returned from their run—and CK finished thirty-five burpees, Coach ordered them to crank out one hundred jumping jacks. Tommy groaned as everyone started lazily jumping. Coach chastised the team by yelling in Tommy’s face. “You think it burns now, maggots? Wait until I sit on your shoulders! Now, jump, Thomas! Jump like there’s a fire under you!”

  Skyler guessed Tommy’s leg muscles—and those of his teammates—wobbled and felt like jelly under him. Everyone counted out loud as they jumped together. When they hit seventy-five, Coach signaled for everyone to stop. In a much softer voice, he encouraged them.

  “All right boys, the Grinder won today, but you’re allowed one mistake in your life on this team, and this was it.” Coach pointed at the ground to drive his point home. “Let’s blame the humidity, shall we? Get some water in you and hit the showers. Skyler Phoenix, front and center!”

  “Thank you, Coach,” everyone said simultaneously, like a platoon. Skyler smirked as the team moved en masse toward the bleachers to grab their gear. Before walking to Coach, he saw Daren smack Tommy intentionally with his shoulder as he walked past him. The impact sent Tommy into a frenzy of arm waving to reclaim his balance.

  “Watch where you’re going, pussy,” Daren said gruffly, in a low voice. Some of Daren’s peers chuckled near him.

  What an asshole. Skyler looked at Coach, but he hadn’t seen the commotion behind him. He frowned and walked over to Coach Tomlin as ordered.

  Coach smiled and extended his hand. Skyler shook it. “You did well today, son. Congrats.”

  “Thanks, Coach.”

  “Grab your gear. Let’s walk back to the school together,” he instructed.

  Skyler ran to the sideline, grabbed his bike helmet and backpack, and then jogged over to Coach Tomlin, who didn’t wait for him.

  “CK told me you aren’t into cross country. Is that accurate?”

  “Sort of. I like to run, but I hate doing it competitively. I prefer cycling or swim teams.”

  Coach nodded. “Understood. We’ve got both. If you want, I’ll add you to each team, but the rest is up to you. You’ll have to place like everyone else, but given your performance today I’m sure you’ll do fine. You kept up with a team that’s been running for most of the summer, so that says something about what you can do.”

  “Thank you, Coach, that really means a lot. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. Just don’t disappoint me, or yourself. You’re in good shape, but I have a feeling the athleticism here will be tougher than your old school.”

  “I won’t,” Skyler answered. “Question—what did you mean when you told us the Grinder won today?”

  Coach chuckled. “The team came in three minutes later than they should have.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s the humidity. It’s killer here in the valley. Remember that if you place on the cycling team. The hills and humidity here will take your best time and make it laughable.”

  “Maybe,” Skyler said. “It was pretty hilly back in Rhode Island.”

  Coach snorted. “We’ll see, son. Go hit the showers.”

  “Will do. See ya, Coach.” Skyler headed to the locker room to clean up.

  * * *

  The excess shower steam that permeated the already humid summer air turned the high school’s gray and beige locker room into a hot sauna. The voices of excited teenage athletes in various stages of undress echoed around him. Skyler discreetly scanned the guys around him.

  Keep your eyes off their bodies, Sky or they’ll figure out you’re gay, and then…

  “Nice job today,” CK said, sidling up to him. He had already stripped off his running shorts and had wrapped his towel around his waist.

  “Thanks.”

  “What did Coach say?” Some of the guys stopped to listen, including Daren, who stared at him intently again.

  What is up with him today? Skyler ignored him and decided to tease the guys. “Coach said I’m the new team captain.”

  “What?” CK said. A few jaws dropped around him. Daren shot him a look of disgust.

  “I’m kidding,” Skyler said. Everyone except Daren smiled or chuckled. “He said I did fine and he’s going to add me to the cycling and swim teams. I’ll still have to place, but I don’t have to try out.”

  Heads nodded around him as Skyler opened his locker.

  “That’s awesome, bro,” CK said.

  “Congrats,�
�� some of the guys said.

  “So, no track?” someone asked.

  “No, thanks, you guys are awesome, but it’s not my thing.”

  “Your loss,” someone else said, teasing.

  Skyler checked his gym bag and realized he had forgotten body wash.

  “Shit, I don’t have any soap with me.”

  “We can share,” CK said. “Come on.”

  “Okay, hang on.” Skyler stripped his clothes off and grabbed his towel. He wrapped it around his waist and followed CK into the showers. Along the way, Tommy joined them.

  “Nice workout today, Skyler,” he said. “It’s nice to have some fresh faces in the school. I’m glad you’re here.” Tommy stepped in line behind Skyler and followed them into the shower area.

  Um, okay. “Thanks, Tommy. I’m glad I passed Coach’s test, so to speak.”

  “Me too.”

  “I bet you are, faggot,” an angry voice said behind them. Skyler looked up at CK, who spun around. A look of worry shot across CK’s face as Skyler heard the smack of flesh behind him. Then he felt Tommy tumble into his backside, knocking him off balance. Skyler fell toward CK as Tommy’s chin slammed into Skyler’s lower back and his arms and hands searched for something to grab hold of for balance. Skyler grabbed the front of his towel as CK extended his arms and caught him. He felt Tommy’s hands grip and pull on his towel, finding a hand-hold in the fabric. Good thing I grabbed my towel, or this would be really awkward.

  “Thanks,” Skyler said to CK. He nodded back, glaring at Daren behind Skyler.

  Tommy's feet slipped out from under him and he landed sideways on his buttocks, hands still clutching to the towel around Skyler’s waist. “Ow,” Tommy cried out, doing the best he could to keep himself upright.

  “If only I had a camera,” Daren sneered with disgust.

  Skyler reached down with his free hand and grabbed Tommy’s arm. Some of the guys laughed while others made comments against Daren, but no one intervened. Tommy let go of Skyler’s towel and let Skyler pull him up from the beige tile and concrete floor. He rubbed the side of his face where he had crashed into Skyler.

  “What the hell, Daren?” CK yelled. As everyone paused to watch the spectacle, a sudden quiet filled the locker room. Daren’s friends smirked while others stood with arms folded across their chests. No one moved or said a word.

  “What’s the matter, can’t handle a little fun, CK?”

  “That wasn’t funny, Daren,” CK retorted.

  “I told the little faggot to watch where he was going,” Daren spat. “It’s not my fault if he tripped.”

  Skyler stared at Daren and froze as a memory surfaced.

  * * *

  “I told the little faggot to watch where he was going,” Sean McMahon said, rubbing his hip.

  “Enough,” Patty implored.

  “Ow,” Skyler said, rubbing his face.

  “He wasn’t paying attention, that’s all.”

  “Stop making excuses for him, Patty.”

  Sean and Patty McMahon had taken the family to the town’s annual harvest fair. The smells of fall—leaves, hay, apple cider, and donuts—and the sounds of laughter and merriment danced in the air around them.

  Unfortunately, they were lost in the larger, more challenging corn maze and Sean had become increasingly frustrated with his inability to find the way out. Since it was later in the afternoon on a Saturday, he was already drunk. He had also doctored his apple cider with whiskey from a flask he had snuck into the fair.

  When Skyler became distracted with something Braden—one of the other children—had said, he didn’t see that Sean had stopped in front of him. Thus, he stepped on Sean’s left heel and walked right into Sean’s hip bone. Sean jerked in pain and swore. A split second later, he rounded and back-handed Skyler. The force of the blow knocked him to the ground.

  “Watch where you’re going, asswipe.”

  When Patty tried to smooth things out, it only made matters worse because Sean had long surrendered his mind to the whiskey.

  “Look at the little faggot cry. I thought I told you, crying is for losers, pussies, and faggots. Knock it off,” he yelled, drawing his hand up again, ready to strike.

  Skyler sniffled and tried his best to stop crying.

  “Everything okay, Sean? Patty?”

  Everyone turned to look at the source of the voice. It was Bernie Daniels, one of the town’s police officers.

  “Hi, Bernie,” Patty said.

  Sean cut her off and gestured with his arms. “We’re good, Bernie. Skyler can’t figure out which of his feet isn’t the left one.”

  What?

  “Is that so?” Officer Daniels said. “Hi, Skyler.”

  “Hi,” he responded, sheepishly.

  “Which foot is your right foot?” Daniels asked. Skyler pointed to his right foot.

  “And your left?”

  Skyler pointed to his left foot.

  “Seems to me he knows his right from his left, Sean. I think it’s time we get you home, okay?”

  “I can’t get home, because this fucking maze is huge and we’re fucking lost.” His voice bristled with agitation. He turned around and smacked the closest cornstalk he could reach.

  “Sean,” Daniels said, placing his hand on his taser. “Why don’t you follow me out and then we’ll get you home? You don’t need to get mad at the corn. Am I right?”

  Sean looked around him, huffing and puffing. He staggered a bit and relaxed. “Fine.”

  “Great,” he said, smiling and pointing. “Let’s go this way, okay? You’re actually really close to the exit.”

  “Of course we are,” Sean grumbled, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He stumbled in the direction Daniels had indicated.

  “Kids, please follow your dad, okay?”

  “Yes, Officer Daniels,” they said unison.

  “Come on son, you too,” Daniels said, extending his hand toward Skyler, who grabbed it and pulled himself up. He followed Braden and Bridget, but listened to Officer Daniels and Patty talk behind him.

  “How much has he had today, Patty?”

  “I’m not really sure, Bernie. Apparently, much more than I thought he did. Usually he’s much nicer, especially in public.”

  “I’ve been following you for some time now. We had a few complaints about his loud mouth from a few people. I saw him strike Skyler. You know you can at least file a complaint, right?”

  “No, no, that would be bad, very bad,” Patty said. Skyler could sense the desperation in her voice.

  “Patty, if he had drawn blood, I would have arrested him. He needs to get his act together.”

  “Please don’t,” she begged.

  “Patty, think about what’s best for the kids, not him. If he hits you, promise me you’ll call me, even if it’s the next day.”

  Skyler didn’t hear anything except a pause.

  “Promise me, if he ever hits the kids, you’ll call me, or you’ll call 911.”

  Again, he heard nothing. Is she protecting him?

  “Fine,” Daniels said. “Do you have car keys in your purse?”

  “Y-yes, why?”

  “He’s not driving, you are. I’ll drive him home. I don’t need to test him to see he’s well over the legal limit. And Patty, the minute he puts his keys into the ignition to start the car, I’d have to arrest him for DUI.”

  “That might not be a bad thing,” she whispered.

  Finally!

  “Is that what you want, Patty?”

  “No, of course not. Not here. I’ll drive the kids home today.”

  Dammit.

  “Then I’ll drive him home,” Daniels said.

  When they reached the edge of the cornfield, curious onlookers watched the spectacle of the McMahon family. A drunken Sean cursed to himself and staggered over to the parking area, followed by his three children, Officer Daniels, and Patty. People gossiped.

  “There he goes again,” someone said within earshot of Skyler. />
  Yup, and it won’t be the last time, I’m sure.

  “You guys head home, or stay if you want, but he’s coming with me, right now. Good day, Patty.”

  Daniels quickened his step and caught up to Skyler. He put a hand on his shoulder and scanned his face for signs of bruising and blood. “You’re okay, son?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Do me a favor, walk with your mom, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Skyler stopped and let Patty catch up to him. She extended her hand and he grasped it in his. They walked together in silence. When they had caught up with Braden and Bridget, they headed to the car. Skyler watched the policeman escort Sean to his patrol car.

  When they got home, Daniels had to carry Sean to bed because he had passed out in the back seat of the cruiser on the way home. Skyler did his best to carry Sean’s feet. They smelled badly and Sean’s body reeked of whiskey-soaked sweat.

  The next morning, Sean complained of a massive headache but had no recollection of their trip to the harvest fair. Skyler was eleven, and it wasn’t the first time he’d been called a faggot.

  * * *

  “What the hell is wrong with you? What are you staring at, creeper?”

  Skyler snapped himself back to the present moment. Locker room, showers, hand on loose towel, CK, Tommy, Daren pushed Tommy, okay…here we go.

  “Me? What’s wrong with you? Why do you pick on the smaller kids and called them faggots? Are you afraid to pick on someone your own size? Afraid you might lose?”

  Daren sneered again, and Skyler saw his pupils dilate. Shit, he’s going to hit me.

  “Get back,” CK cautioned.

  “Because, I bet he’s a faggot, like you,” Daren barked, pulling his right shoulder and arm back. Then his right arm and fist rushed forward.

  Skyler quickly leaned to the side and blocked it with his arms.

  Daren’s face twisted with rage. He pulled his left shoulder back and wound up another punch.

  “Tarquin! Don’t you dare,” a familiar voice barked. A hand that belonged to the voice reached out and grabbed Daren’s left forearm. Daren reacted and swung his right arm up and punched Cody square in the metal and plastic chest armor of his football gear. The impact made a strange smacking sound.