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Hometown Favorite: A Novel

Page 30

by BILL BARTON


  "Can you repeat anything that was said?" Hickman asked.

  "Not unless you want to lose half your sponsors," Sly said.

  "Then we'll leave it to our imaginations," Hickman said. "So, Mr. Adams, what does each team have to do to win?"

  "Loser goes home today. Winner goes to the play-offs with a powerful momentum working in its favor. If Colby and his boys keep winning the head game with Dewayne, they could go home with their play-off ticket. I've got the three Rs for Dewayne Jobe: relax, refocus, and rejoice. He's been playing conservative. It's time to play his game"

  Rosella, Jake, and the entire stadium stood for the kickoff at the top of the second half and never sat back down. The third and fourth quarters were not much different from the first two. Each team got one more score but only a field goal apiece.

  Throughout the thirty minutes of play, Dewayne kept silent and let Colby do all the smack talk. He did his best to block out Colby's attacks for the one dropped ball he had, the two underthrown passes, and the diving attempt he made for an overthrown ball. Colby blamed every mistake on Dewayne, accusing him of spooking the Stars with bad mojo. Dewayne found it impossible to shake the double team, and Colby's harassment fueled the demoralized state of the team.

  With five seconds left to play and the Stars on the fifty-yard line, everyone including the commentators expected this game to go into overtime.

  When the play came in, Dewayne told the front line to protect their quarterback at all costs. He needed time to sprint close to forty yards.

  The Baltimore defense set up a nickel package with an extra defensive back standing at the ten-yard line. Colby's screaming mandate to his teammates before the ball was snapped: "You let Jobe get behind you, and I'll make you a cripple for life!"

  A "Hail Mary" had little chance of working the way the defense was spread, so it would be up to the receiver to carry the ball into the end zone.

  The front line did their job keeping the defensive line from taking down the quarterback, and Dewayne sprinted his forty yards in near Combine time. Dewayne suckered Colby and the defensive back into thinking he was on a dead sprint mission to the end zone, but at the ten-yard line, he slammed on the brakes and cut directly across the field. The ball was already in the air when he made the cut, and it was slightly underthrown, forcing Dewayne to slow down and catch the ball behind him. This adjustment in speed gave Colby time to recover switching directions, and he plowed into Dewayne's side at the seven-yard line.

  Time had run out on the clock, and Colby's driving force almost took Dewayne to the ground. Dewayne had only a second or two before the Baltimore defensive backs would be piling onto this Stewart/Jobe duo moving violently in opposite directions. Colby was riding Dewayne like a cowboy trying to trip a stubborn calf while Dewayne's legs churned the ground like a thoroughbred determined to finish the race.

  Colby roared, Dewayne howled, two beasts bellowing dominance. A safety arrived, then another, but it was too late. Dewayne had fallen over the goal line, and the official raised both arms in the air. Dewayne rolled onto his side and held the ball for all to see. The stadium burst in a rupture of ecstatic pandemonium. A horde of Stars converged on Dewayne and lifted their resurrected leader into the air. Startled by this sudden launch into space, Dewayne let the ball fly out of his hand. It landed right beside Colby stretched prone on the ground.

  Dewayne hugged his teammates before making his way over to his foe. Colby had not moved nor the ball been knocked away, even though the euphoria around them was out of control. Dewayne put his hands on Colby's shoulders, pulled him to his feet, and brought their facemasks together. Colby was still too dazed and out of breath, or he might have thought Dewayne was about to harm him and would not have been so docile.

  "You played a great game," Dewayne said.

  Colby's only reaction after hot, panting breaths blown into Dewayne's face through the grid of the facemasks was to knock off Dewayne's hands resting on Colby's shoulder pads.

  "Colby, I know what misery feels like;" Dewayne shouted. "There's real peace out there, and I know who can give it to you. I'm here for you anytime, anywhere"

  Colby said nothing. He snatched the ball from the ground and ran off the field.

  Jake and Dewayne looked at the large box containing the baby bed leaning against the wall of the spare bedroom as if they were staring at something that had fallen from outer space.

  "Come on, you two. This is not like putting Humpty Dumpty back together;" she said. "It's just a baby bed."

  The birth of their baby was still several months away, but they wanted to get everything in order. The choice to have another child had been difficult. After visiting the graves of their son, and Bruce and Sabrina who became like their own children, it was easier to keep the prospect of having more children in the realm of discussion, not action. They were afraid of getting pregnant. They were afraid of being happy again with new offspring. They were afraid such action was an attempt to replace Robert Dewayne who was irreplaceable. The emotional risks were great.

  Franklin and Joella encouraged them without applying any pressure. They knew well the pain of loss, the guilt and fear of risking another child, so they understood their turmoil and told them they would support any decision.

  They asked Jake's opinion and his terse response helped them turn a corner. "I'd make an excellent grandfather," he said.

  When it came right down to it, passion made the decision; a night when making a run to the local pharmacy was the last thing on their minds.

  "Don't we have to go to practice, Jake?" Dewayne asked.

  "Yeah, I think they called a special practice today;" Jake said.

  Once Dewayne had reestablished himself with the team, he kept singing Jake's praises to Coach Gyra-how he had gotten him through his ordeal. Impressed by Jake's willingness to step up, the Stars' management added Jake to the Player Development Department. It was a perfect arrangement for young players to be the beneficiaries of wise counsel.

  "You two;" Rosella said, shaking her head. "Intimidated by a baby bed"

  "We're not intimidated;" Dewayne said.

  "No, no, not intimidated;" Jake said. "We're just ... just busy."

  "Yeah, we're busy." Dewayne looked at Jake, each man appreciative of the other's backing.

  "I've read your schedule;" Rosella said. "You're both off today."

  The doorbell rang, and both men started to exit, thankful for the diversion from the chore of assembling the baby bed.

  "It doesn't take two grown men to answer the front door," Rosella said. "Dewayne Jobe, you get back here:'

  Jake shrugged his shoulders, pretending to be sorry for this summons.

  "If it's another neighbor wanting tickets to the championship, tell him he'll have to watch it on television like the rest of America;" Dewayne said.

  Jake slapped Dewayne's shoulder before he skipped out, and Dewayne trudged across the room to the box and began to place the individual pieces of the crib onto the carpet while Rosella read the instructions. There had been a huge number of requests for tickets to the big game, but Dewayne had declined them all. He had leased a skybox in the stadium and invited a select group: Franklin and Joella; Dr. Macy, his wife, and select members of his medical team; Winston Garfield of the Springdale Leader; special women who had worked with Cherie; Jesse Webb's parents; and Detective John Hathaway.

  "You prophesied, Detective," Dewayne told him when he called to invite him on an all-expense-paid trip to watch him play in the biggest game of his life.

  "Prophesied? I don't remember;" Hathaway said.

  "You said you wanted to see me play in a Stars' game. You gave me my `get out of jail free' card, and I'm fulfilling your prophecy."

  And, of course, Sly would make an appearance in the suite when he wasn't providing analysis and commentary for the All Sports Network coverage of the game. He would not be playing against his best friend this year.

  By the time Rosella got to step three with the in
structions, she began to weep.

  "I can't do this, baby. I can't," she said, dropping the instructions on the floor.

  Dewayne wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her close.

  "All we have in life is each other;" he said. "We have survived so much together. We will do this and it will be painful, but I hope God will someday make our joy complete, and it may be soon. It maybe soon."

  Jake reentered the room as Dewayne was wiping the tears from Rosella's eyes.

  "Sorry, but you need to go to the door," Jake said, his face pale, his eyes darting.

  "What's up?" Dewayne asked.

  "Just go to the door"

  Jake stopped Rosella from following her husband.

  "He needs to face this one alone;" he said, and he diverted her curiosity by rolling up his sleeves and tackling the baby bed assembly line.

  Dewayne opened the door and stared at Colby Stewart, his feet shuffling over the stones of the path in front of the condo, hands behind his back, eyes cast down like a timid boy.

  "How did you get in?" was all Dewayne could think to say in his state of amazement.

  "An autograph and a sob story." Colby revealed the football hidden behind his back underneath his coat. "Told the guard I came all the way from Baltimore to return this"

  Colby tossed the ball to Dewayne, and he bobbled it a couple of times before he secured the pass.

  "You gotta do better than that next week in San Diego;" Colby said, a shy grin forming on his lips.

  "I'll have a quarterback who knows how to throw the ball, not a linebacker"

  Both men chuckled. Colby continued to perform his agitated shuffle over the stones in Dewayne's tiny front yard.

  "This a bad time?" Colby asked.

  "No, it's cool," Dewayne said. "You want to come inside?"

  "No thanks, I don't feel comfortable."

  "How'd you know I wasn't at practice?"

  "I have a mole buried in the Stars' organization. I used to work there, you know."

  This time a mutual chuckle turned into a real laugh for both of them.

  "You must be tired traveling all the way from Baltimore just to bring me this;" Dewayne said, shaking the football in his hand.

  "That day after the game you said you knew what it was like to feel miserable;" Colby blurted, his face pinched tight as though a pair of invisible hands were pressing against his cheeks.

  "I do," Dewayne said.

  "You said you knew where I could find peace"

  "I do"

  "What you went through, it was hell, huh?"

  "Every kind of hell"

  "But you got through it"

  "By God's grace I got through it, but I'm not over it. I'll never be over it" Dewayne reached inside the front door and pulled a jacket off the coatrack. "There's a footpath behind the complex. You feel like a walk?"

  Colby nodded in approval.

  Dewayne threw Colby the ball and put on his coat. The two men started down the stone pathway in the center of the courtyard, their only communication, the pitching of the ball back and forth to each other.

  First of all, I would like to thank God for the inspiration of this story and putting all the pieces into place for it to come together. Also, for giving me the sense to know that I cannot write-and without that skill, books usually don't get written.

  Without Ron Cook, who became a good friend in the process, this story would still be just traveling around in my head, getting revised with each road trip and going nowhere. For all your prayers, hard work, and introductions-thank you.

  Chris Sanders not only contributed the foreword and generously shared his life as a pro-football player, but he was also a great encourager. Whenever it seemed easier to give up, Chris would call with an encouraging word.

  Our agent, Esther Fedorkevich, believed in this project from the beginning and never gave up. Her advice and counsel have been valued more than words can express.

  Things really began to come together when Esther introduced me to Beverly Mansfield. She got the concept and the story and, through her insight and guidance, felt it was time to make the crucial introduction to Henry 0.

  Despite telling me that my version of the story was bad and my writing horrible, Henry 0. quickly became not only a good writing partner but a friend as well.

  Before turning over the writing to Henry 0., the two of us met in the good offices of the accounting firm of Jennings and Clouse and the missionary team of Mission Discovery, where we hammered out the action of the story. They didn't seem to mind two wild and crazy guys conducting a healthy exchange of ideas in the next room.

  Jennifer, Cat, and all the team at Revell have been wonderful to work with, and their enthusiasm for this book has been refreshing. A special note of gratitude goes to Barb Barnes, whose editorial insights raised the quality of this novel to a much higher level. She was a delight to work with, and her literary suggestions never felt like work.

  We could not eat dinner at home without thanking our wives for putting up with us through this creative process.

  Finally, thank you for reading this book. We hope you enjoyed it.

  Henry 0. adds his thanks for the generous support of those already mentioned, and would like to offer a special thanks to Bill for sharing his story with him and entrusting him with a dream he has carried for a long time. That took great courage on his part-courage few demonstrate-and thus a team was born ... a team that promises more compelling stories in the future.

  Bill Barton travels the world as a business partner with three companies that develop and sell products to nonprofit organizations, small businesses, and large retailers. He received his MBA from Baylor University. A sought-after speaker, he combines his business experience and passion for the spiritual life to motivate and inspire others.

  Bill lives in Hendersonville, TN, with his wife and two sons (who keep him very busy). Even in light of his busy work schedule and passionate commitment to his family and church, he makes time to satisfy the adventure junkie inside-whether it's hiking, mountain biking, or taking frequent family camping trips to the nearby lakes and mountains. He is an avid football fan and can be found at the stadium anytime the lights are on.

  Henry 0. Arnold has been a professional actor and writer in theatre and film since 1970. He graduated from Pepperdine University with his BA in acting and completed his Master of Fine Arts degree at UNC Chapel Hill. His original film trilogy The Word Made Flesh, three one-man shows, received two first-place awards at the Houston International Film Festival and the Columbus International Film Festival. He co-wrote and produced the film The Second Chance, starring Michael W. Smith. He wrote the screenplay for the first authorized film documentary on evangelist Billy Graham, God's Ambassador. He co-wrote and produced the forthcoming documentary Kabul-24 for Seabourne Pictures, based on the story of the capture and escape of eight Western aid workers held as hostages by the Taliban in 2001. He is the narrator for the two-CD recording of Jesus in His Own Words, released by Total Content. Henry and his wife, Kay, have two beautiful daughters married to two handsome men. He lives in Portland, TN.

  Chris Sanders, third-round draft pick out of Ohio State in 1995 and former wide receiver for the Tennessee Titans, served as special consultant for Hometown Favorite. Now retired from playing professional football, Sanders focuses the majority of his time on giving back to the community through The Sanders Foundation.

  Visit the authors' website at

  Bill and Henry would like to hear from their readers.

  Email them at contact@barton-arnold.com.

 

 

 
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