Hometown Favorite: A Novel

by BILL BARTON

  "Me too;" Rosella whispered.

  The drive home from the cemetery was quiet until they passed the high school. Rosella wanted to see where Dewayne had played, and he promised to take her there in the evening when no one would be around. Dewayne inquired about Jake Hopper.

  "There's talk he may retire;" Cherie said. "Jake was hoping the athletic department would see him as a natural choice to replace the head coach when he left two years ago, but the job went to someone downstate. I think he's just doing his time"

  "You never told me that. Do you ever see him?" Dewayne asked.

  Cherie could not answer. She had heard Dewayne but was staring out the window, posing as though lost in thought and hoping he would not repeat his question. The timing of just returning from the cemetery seemed like the truth of her answer would be a betrayal. Jake had eventually gotten the courage to ask Cherie to dinner, and though flattered by his initial offer, she did not accept. She thought that would end any future invitations, but she was wrong. By the fifth time, she had run out of excuses. They had driven to Memphis for dinner, the couple not ready to deflect the stares and gossip from a Springdale populace that would follow a public appearance of an interracial couple. It had been a pleasant experience, which brought pangs of guilt that she might be happy with someone other than her first love. However, these secret trysts continued-strictly honorable with never a hint of alcohol on Jake's breath-and Cherie had to admit there was a furtive enjoyment in his attention. When all of Springdale knew the position of head coach had been offered to another, Jake's invitations became infrequent until they stopped altogether.

  Cherie was disappointed as this platonic companionship had fizzled out, but she accepted it as another unexplainable consequence of life.

  "Mom, do you ever see Coach Hopper?" Dewayne repeated, cutting off all of Cherie's escape routes.

  "From time to time ... in passing;" she said.

  "Well, tell him I said hello"

  Cherie nodded to acknowledge her son's request, but she kept her gaze on the familiar terrain passing outside the car window.

  After supper, Cherie shooed the couple out the door for some alone time, so she could clean the kitchen before she caught her ride to the trustees' committee meeting at church. Rosella had insisted on helping, but Cherie would have none of it.

  "You two go on, now. It's a lovely evening, so go enjoy it."

  When Dewayne pulled into the school parking lot and drove around to the stadium, he saw the field was vacant with only a couple of low wattage security lights shining on the fifty-yard line. Dewayne helped Rosella climb over the fence, and they walked onto the field.

  "So this is where you set all those records," Rosella said.

  "This is the place;' he answered as they reached the fortyyard line.

  "What's it like to be back here?"

  With that, he broke into a sprint as though her voice had terrorized him. When he reached the end zone, he threw up his arms in the signal of a touchdown and jogged back to Rosella waiting for him on the fifty-yard line, casting a faint shadow in the security lights.

  "Just had to get out some energy," he said, dancing around Rosella and teasing her by fluffing her hair with his hands.

  "Boy, you are some kind of crazy tonight," she said, trying to rein him in.

  "Blame it on the moon. Blame it on love. Blame it on being on the fifty-yard line with the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with;" he said.

  Rosella captured his hand and brought him to a stop.

  "What did you just say?"

  Dewayne fell to one knee and kept his head lowered until he got full control of his breathing.

  "I need to do this now while my blood is up."

  He reached into his back pocket and retrieved the black jewelry box.

  "From USC to Springdale, Mississippi, is a long journey, but I see it as the hand of God. I'm only good at one thingcatching passes and running fast-and I believe it's what I'm supposed to do with my life. But I don't want to do it alone, and I don't want to do it without you. I believe you are the one for me. My love for you consumes me, and I feel for the first time in my life I am a whole man"

  Dewayne raised his head and looked into Rosella's face. She had closed her eyes as if meditating on the words Dewayne was saying, words she desired him to speak, words that were a communion of mutual love, words spoken like a tender prayer. He kissed her hand, then opened it and placed the jewelry box on her palm. Rosella gasped and fell to her knees. She stared at the box as if she might open it by force of will alone. Dewayne placed his long fingers on the lid and pulled it back. To anyone but Rosella, the ring would not realign constellations-it was a ring of the heart, and the only hearts that mattered were the two beating on the fifty-yard line of Tiger Stadium.

  "If you will have me, Ms. Rosella Caldwell, I would like to be your husband for the rest of my life. I would like you to be my wife. Will you marry me?"

  The power of such love expressed was an ephemeral fracture in the night's sky. Rosella pressed into her future husband and laid her cheek upon his.

  "Yes, I will marry you," she whispered. "And love you with all my heart"

  The Caldwell backyard had been turned into a wedding cosmos masterminded by the daughter of an architect and an interior designer: decorated tents and booths, each with a sampling of finger-food cuisine from numerous cultures; arbors covered in flowers; tuxedoed musicians; multicolored banners hanging from manicured trees; large framed photographs of the happy couple mounted on easels and scattered throughout the pristine gardens; a wedding altar constructed like a cathedral's nave at the far end of the yard with the city of Los Angeles in the background. The multitude of guests rambled through this wonderland, drinking and eating their fill.

  The list of highly favored guests was lopsided. Cherie, Sly, and Jesse were all who had made it out from Springdale, and a few of Dewayne's USC teammates who had not gone home during this short break between summer school's voluntary workouts and the beginning of the season. The rest of them represented the Caldwell side. Rosella and Dewayne had decided against bridesmaids and groomsmen. When the musicians began to play the wedding music, the bride and the groom entered from separate sides of the patio and then were joined by their families. The group began a casual march through the backyard, flowing like a fresh stream through the guests with the Caldwells and Cherie flanking the couple's sides. The procession came to rest before the altar for a ceremony of prayers, blessings, Bible verses, and original vows under the minister's guidance.

  Cherie had flown to Los Angeles to enjoy the days of parties and preparations leading up to the wedding. The Caldwells treated her like royalty, insisting she stay with them. At first she was intimidated, fearful she might get lost in the vast square footage or get in the way of the armies employed for this affair, but just two days before the wedding, she had confided to her son that she was putting in her order for a heavenly mansion modeled after the Caldwells'

  When Sly and Jesse flew in the day before the wedding, Sly told Rosella it was not too late, she could still come back to Miami. "Dewayne will be nothing but grief and trouble," he said. "And only I can make you a happy woman."

  Cherie put the kibosh on such jive talk. "What God hath joined together this fool will not tear asunder;" she said and reinforced the paraphrased quote with a slap to the back of Sly's head.

  Jesse looked a little better than the last time Dewayne saw him. He had gained some weight, but his face was ashen and haggard, and his movements were fidgety, almost spastic. He kept disappearing during the pre-wedding socializing and never seemed to be able to settle down. Dewayne pulled Sly aside and asked if he noticed Jesse's unusual behavior, but Sly said all he was noticing was the beautiful bride.

  Before the evening concluded, Franklin instructed the waiters to supply every guest with a glass of champagne, and while the waiters carried out that order, he led Joella and Cherie by their hands onto the highest point of the patio where they could
be in full view of the wedding party. When three glasses of champagne appeared on the railing in front of the trio, Franklin waved his hand for everyone's attention.

  "What a pleasure it is to have you in our home. Thank you for joining Joella and Cherie Jobe and me in witnessing the union of our children and the creation of a new family."

  He had to pause to hem in his emotions. He had not anticipated the sudden reminder of the absence of his older daughter and two grandchildren. Joella slipped her arm around her husband's side, and Cherie placed a hand on his shoulder. The two matriarchs brought Franklin's attention back to the moment.

  "When Dewayne first showed up on my doorstep, I played my part as the skeptic. What father doesn't assume that role when it comes to his daughter? Has God ever created a man good enough for a father's daughter? Apparently so or the human race would have come to a quick end:"

  A murmur of amusement passed over his audience.

  "From the moment we met, I knew he was a cut above the standard; yes, in physical size and in the quality of his character ... all credit due to Cherie Jobe. So the peaceable war of attrition began that first night here on this patio when he spoke so eloquently and without shame about his personal history. About his profound respect for my daughter. In pursuing Rosella's love, you could say he was pursuing her parents' love as well, and the three of us yielded to his gentle persuasion. This was not a situation of conqueror and conquered. In all honesty, I say Dewayne Jobe's entry into our lives was a victory for us all."

  Sly and Jesse burst into applause, inspiring the wedding party to join them and giving time for Franklin and the women at his side to raise their glasses of champagne.

  I must confess until now I had not paid close attention to the game of football; no personal prejudice, just a lack of interest. But things have changed. Joella and I are looking forward to this last season of Dewayne's college career, and I expect to be in the stadium doing my part for the home team. And it's nice to think we might have a potential Heisman Trophy winner as a son.

  A second round of applause began, but this time without Sly's instigation.

  Dewayne looked over at his friend and smiled, fluttering his glass of champagne in his direction.

  Sly shook his head and waved him off. "That's father-in-law talk," he said, just loud enough above the applause for Dewayne to hear him.

  "Join Joella, Cherie, and me in saluting this new couple with an ancient Jewish blessing: `May the Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.

  All glasses rose in the air. All champagne was consumed. All heaven seemed to be focusing its benevolent attention on this blissful couple.

  A horde of reporters, girlfriends, fans, and family had gathered in front of the team's entrance to the USC stadium, waiting for their particular player to emerge from the locker room. It would take Dewayne time to work his way through the masses, speaking to those demanding a quote for a paper or an autograph, and waving off the disappointed females who hoped to score their men by their power of seduction. The oversized wedding band on his finger was a big deterrent.

  Because the team had won its first home game, Rosella knew it would take longer for Dewayne to run the gauntlet, so she sat under a tree studying her textbook while she waited. Dewayne was taking his usual light load, and because he had gone to school through the last four summers, he would only have to take a couple of classes the last semester of his senior year, allowing him time to train for the spring combines.

  Without being rude, Dewayne passed through the mob like he was parting the waters. When he saw Rosella under the tree absorbed in her textbook, he slipped behind the tree, giving her a fright that elicited a squeal and a smack on the chest. He scooped her into his arms and stretched out the kiss so all single females who thought they might have some future chance with him could see his heart had been subjugated.

  The walk home would take ten minutes, and when one lone female approached with a paper in her hand, Rosella was prepared to allow a brief pause for Dewayne to sign her paper, but she hooked her arm through Dewayne's and drew him closer, a visible sign of ownership.

  The woman had the emaciated face of an African refugee with a tipsy expression, and as she drew near them, she gabbled in a strange tongue. Her hair was a nest of windblown street trash. The shapeless clothes she wore outsized her shrunken frame, and the odor rose from her body like heat waves off hot pavement. She became a roadblock on the sidewalk, forcing Dewayne and Rosella to stop. Dewayne reached for his wallet, and the woman unfurled the discolored and wrinkled newspaper she was carrying. On the front page of the society section of the Los Angeles Times, above the fold, was a half-page random collection of some of LA's finest celebrating the Caldwell/Jobe union.

  "'USC Football Star Marries Caldwell Daughter"" she said, looking into their annoyed faces. She had memorized the headline. "You don't look so happy today. You don't look so happy to see me"

  The creature's voice had the croaky sound of an old hag who had stepped out of a fairy tale. She tapped the image of Dewayne's face in the picture of the newspaper.

  "You don't look like a gold digger to me," she said. "Looks like you didn't need to marry her for the money."

  "Excuse us," Rosella said and began leading her husband with an end-around move away from the creature.

  "Don't be in a hurry now," the creature said, trying to counter the couple's sweep. "I'm just happy for you is all. Not every day you get married and make the society page"

  Dewayne and Rosella sidestepped the creature and quickened their momentum. The creature wadded the paper and kicked it like a soccer ball over their heads.

  "Not every day you get to see your family either"

  Rosella stopped dead in her tracks. She released Dewayne's arm and turned around.

  "I guess you bought into the crap that I was dead."

  "Bonita?"

  The last time Rosella had seen her sister was on a street corner with two children, one just a baby crying in her arms. Her mother had picked Rosella up from school to run errands, but they drove through a part of town that was not the normal errand route, and by its rough environs, she knew it should be off-limits. But Joella traveled the different streets at a steady school-zone speed, looking at every human they passed for any sign of recognition, while strangers glared at them as though they were foreign invaders.

  Joella sped up when she spotted a woman on the street corner with two children, but drove past them and stopped a half block beyond the corner where they were waiting. She ordered Rosella to stay put before she scooted out of the running car and jogged back toward the huddled trio.

  Rosella turned around in her seat to see her mother open her purse and hand the woman cash, brush her fingers once down the right side of the little girl's face, stroke the forehead of the crying baby, and return to the car, all without saying a word to any of them. She would not have even known she had seen her sister, niece, and nephew had she not overheard Joella tearfully telling Franklin what she had done when they thought Rosella was asleep in her bedroom.

  "Back from the dead," this haggard woman now said, raising her arms to support her point. "Never really died except in the minds of the Caldwells"

  "Bonita ... Bonita;" Rosella said, as if repeating the name would confirm she was not looking at a ghost.

  In the depth and rustle of her heart, Rosella felt as if she was waking from years of slumber, unsure of the altered landscape and vivid characters. It seemed one night long ago she fell asleep and was told her sister departed to a world from which she would never return nor Rosella could ever visit.

  "So why didn't I get my engraved invitation to the big event?"

  "Bonita;" Rosella whispered, restraining the impulse to touch her sister. She could not decide on a slap or an embrace, so she locked her hands behind her back and felt relief when Dewayne came behind her and took her hands into his.

&nbs
p; "Is `Bonita' all you can say?"

  Rosella's inability to articulate anything beyond the mention of her name brought a hostile expression to Bonita's face.

  "I guess it's been so long you'd need a DNA test to prove I was your sister"

  "Calm down, ma'am," Dewayne said.

  "Well, the jolly green giant is not just pretty to look at. He talks too"

  "Don't, Bonita, please"

  "Don't what, sister dear? Don't admire the pretty addition to the family? Don't speak to him? Don't what?"

  "I don't know what to say," Rosella said. "I don't know how to deal with this"

  "Ma'am, is there some way I can help you?" Dewayne started to reach for his wallet. "I've got a little money-"

  "He's pretty, he talks, and he's willing to help. Looks like you hit the jackpot, girl" A grin appearing on Bonita's withered face exposed a number of chipped and missing teeth. "Yeah, I need some money. My kids are hungry."

  "No. No money. We're not giving her any money," Rosella said, beginning to gain some control over this shock to her ordered world. "If you're real, if you're really my sister, then tell me where you live. Give me an exact address, not some street corner. I'll get you some groceries. I'll buy some food and bring it to you tonight. If you're there, you'll be real to me. If you're not there, then you're still dead."

  Neither woman moved, their eyes locked. Rosella's brain was in overdrive searching for identity and meaning to this unexpected discovery.

  "Do I still have a niece and nephew?" she asked.

  Bonita nodded.

  "You have them there. I want to see them. I want to touch them. Now what's your address, and it better be real, not some shelter"

  Dewayne was dumbfounded as he watched the two sisters. Never in his life would he have imagined a scene like this. He couldn't help but look for similarities between his wife and this disheveled woman.