Football Hero (2008)

by Tim Green

  "Gosh," Ty said.

  "Then he goes to the mall and comes home with a new TV," she said. "An expensive new TV, and he starts talking about going to Bermuda on a vacation. I don't even know where Bermuda is. Has he finally lost his mind, or is there a reason?"

  Ty looked out into the dark kitchen and at the glow of the doorway that led to the living room. He pulled Charlotte deeper into the shadows, and in a whisper he said, "Charlotte, if I tell you, will you promise not to tell anyone? Not even your mom? Because you can't."

  Charlotte nodded.

  Ty leaned close so that he could speak directly into her ear, and he told her everything. When he got to the part about Uncle Gus and the FBI and jail, Charlotte gasped.

  "You can't let them," she said, gripping him by the shoulders, her face rumpled and ready to spill tears.

  "Thane's doing everything he can," Ty said. "We've got a plan, and Morty is going to try to cut a deal with the FBI."

  "Morty?" Charlotte said. "He hates my father."

  "Morty is Thane's agent," Ty said. "He'll do everything he can. Thane will be crazy mad if Morty doesn't get it done."

  "Why would he?" Charlotte asked.

  Ty shook his head. "It's just him. It's because we're family and Uncle Gus is our aunt's husband. He's your father, too."

  "Some job he does," Charlotte said.

  "I know it's bad sometimes," Ty said. "But it could be worse. He doesn't hit you or your mom or anything like that. He's just..."

  "A jug head," Charlotte said.

  "Kind of," Ty said. "But don't worry."

  "Why? You're not?"

  "A little," Ty said, "but when Thane gets it in his head to do something, it usually gets done."

  Charlotte hugged him and patted the back of his head.

  "Thank you, Ty," she said. "You're the best cousin anyone could ever have. You're really more like my brother."

  Charlotte turned and let herself out the side door, quietly closing it. Ty turned the lock and peered out the window toward the front, glad not to see a pair of mysterious headlights heading down the dirt drive carrying two ugly men looking for him.

  He lay back down on his bed and closed his eyes.

  Sometime in the early morning hours, the cigar smoke began to subside and Ty finally fell asleep.

  Ty had trouble keeping his eyes open during classes. Twice in math he yawned, and his teacher said the third time would earn him detention. At practice, Ty watched the road for Thane's Escalade or the FBI's Crown Vic. The thought of a black Cadillac pulling up and rolling down its rear window to sprout a gun barrel wouldn't stop popping into his mind either. It didn't surprise him that he dropped every other pass, but Coach V didn't understand, and he wasn't happy.

  "Lewis!" he shouted after Ty let one bounce off his chest in the end zone. "Get your head out of the clouds! Are you kidding me? We've got Brookfield in five days!"

  After practice, Coach V called Ty into his office and told him to close the door.

  "You like me okay, right, Lewis?" Coach V asked, taking off his sunglasses.

  "Sure, Coach," Ty said.

  "You chumped out that jerk West and I came to your defense," Coach V said.

  Ty nodded.

  "I like coaching this team, Lewis," he said.

  Ty nodded again but shifted his feet, his skin feeling tight.

  "But I won't be if we don't win this game against Brookfield," Coach V said, staring down at his open hands as if he'd dropped something.

  "You're a winning coach," Ty said.

  "You'd think that would count for something," Coach V replied, "but not always. Sometimes it's not enough.

  I've been here five years now, and every year we do pretty good. But it's about Brookfield. They've got the program everyone else wants to have, from the middle school team all the way up to the varsity. When I came here, they told me my job was to beat Brookfield. That's what the athletic director and everyone else wanted. They told me I had five years, and I didn't really think they were completely serious."

  "But they are?" Ty asked.

  Coach V nodded. "Apparently, yes. So, I'm sorry I was chewing you out nonstop today, but you're my guy, Lewis. Without you, I don't win this game, and I like this place. So, when I see you dropping balls like that...well, I wanted you to know what's going on. I like you, Lewis. Forget about football; I like you a lot. You're a good kid, and if I'm lucky enough to have my own kids one day, well, I hope they turn out like you."

  Ty's cheeks began burning and he looked down at his shoes.

  "That's all," Coach V said.

  Ty thanked him--for what, he didn't know--and returned to his locker.

  When Ty walked out of the locker room, he expected Uncle Gus but saw Thane waiting instead. Ty jogged up to the Escalade.

  "Get in," Thane said.

  "Where's Uncle Gus?" Ty asked.

  "Don't worry. I've got it covered," Thane said. "Just get in and I'll tell you the plan."

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  TY LISTENED TO THE plan but couldn't think of anything to say once he'd heard it.

  Finally he said, "I'm scared."

  Thane turned down the road between the old abandoned factories, toward the place where the FBI kept their trailer.

  "I am, too," he said.

  "You are?" Ty asked, blinking his eyes and staring at Thane, expecting him to laugh at his own joke.

  "Anyone who does something dangerous to help other people is either scared or stupid," Thane said.

  "Heck, I'm scared all the time. Scared I'll get hurt. Scared I won't succeed. I'm scared every time the phone rings."

  "The phone?" Ty said.

  Thane pulled up to the gate and honked his horn, then looked at Ty. "Like when the police called me about Mom and Dad. That was the worst thing that ever happened to me."

  "Well," Ty said quietly, "that can't happen again."

  Thane's eyes glistened, and for a moment it looked like he might cry. He reached over and messed up Ty's hair.

  "As long as you're okay, it can't," he said.

  The gate rumbled open and they drove into the broken lot.

  "That's Uncle Gus's truck," Ty said, noticing it for the first time between the trailer and several dark sedans.

  "Yup," Thane said.

  They got out and Ty followed his brother up into the trailer. This time several people in shirts and ties occupied the desks, either talking on the phone or working at their computers. One of the men pointed toward the back of the trailer. In the conference room, Uncle Gus sat staring at the corkboard in disbelief. Charlotte sat there, too, her hands in her lap and looking off into space, a million miles away.

  The man sitting beside Agent Kline wasn't Mike but another agent in a blue suit and, around the edges of his balding head, dark hair that matched his wiry black mustache.

  When Uncle Gus saw them, he stood up and wrung his hands. "Tiger, I didn't mean any of this. You've got to believe me."

  "I understand, Uncle Gus," Thane said. "We'll get it worked out."

  "I can't do this," Uncle Gus said, looking around.

  "These people, you just don't do this to them."

  "Like I told you, Mr. Slatz," Kline said, "if we do this without you, you're looking at ten to fifteen years for racketeering."

  "I didn't do anything but win some money," Uncle Gus said, whining.

  "We've got you on tape talking about Tiger's injury and how you knew he wasn't going to play," Kline said. "There isn't a jury in the world that won't put you away."

  Uncle Gus's face sagged. He nodded his head.

  "Thane and Ty," Kline said, turning his attention to them, "this is my boss, Special Agent in Charge Dominic Mueller."

  Mueller stood up and shook hands with them both before they all sat down again.

  "So, I just do the same thing I did before?" Uncle Gus said. "That's all?"

  "It's pretty simple," Kline said. "Tiger will practice all week. If he does that, he won't be on injury list. You t
ell Big Al's crew that even though he practiced, the knee is bothering him again and he's not going to play, same as last week. They all bet against the Jets, but then he really does go out and play. Hopefully they win, or at least beat the point spread, and the mob gets burned pretty good."

  "If they find out, they'll kill me," Uncle Gus said, his face draining of color.

  "That's what we're counting on," Mueller said.

  Uncle Gus made a choking sound.

  "With the evidence we gave the judge from this weekend," Kline said, "we've got fresh wiretaps and bugs all over the place. If D'Amico gives the order to take you out, we can get them on a murder conspiracy."

  "We get that and the whole bunch of them will go away for a very long time," Mueller said.

  "We'll have protection assigned to you," Kline said.

  "As soon as this goes down, we'll get you and your family away from here. You'll be completely safe. When the trial happens, we'll bring you in and back out in a day. No one will know where."

  "Away where?" Uncle Gus asked.

  Kline shrugged. "Spokane, Fargo, Odessa, anyplace you like. Someplace small and out of the way. You'll be safe. We've never had a problem with someone in the Federal Witness Protection Program. We'll find you a job. The house and essentials are taken care of."

  "Isn't Odessa in the desert?" Uncle Gus said.

  "We'll give you a list of choices," Agent Kline said.

  "Don't have much choice, do I?" Uncle Gus said.

  "Not if you don't like wearing one of those orange jumpsuits," Agent Kline said with a frown.

  "I heard Spokane's not so bad," Uncle Gus said.

  That's when Charlotte began to cry.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  AT NIGHT, TY HAD trouble sleeping. At work, he went through the motions of cleaning. Uncle Gus didn't say much of anything to him, and Charlotte was in a total fog. During the day, he had a hard time keeping his eyes open in school and his hands around the ball during practice.

  By Friday, all Coach V could talk about was the enormous Brookfield defensive line, the incredible speed of their secondary, and their nearly unstoppable running back. The coach seemed almost resigned that they'd lose on Saturday, but Ty had much bigger things on his mind, and as much as he liked Coach V, he just couldn't make himself care.

  When Thane arrived Friday night, Uncle Gus ran out to the truck and grabbed hold of Thane's open window. Ty climbed into the passenger seat.

  "So, you're feeling good?" Uncle Gus asked Thane.

  "Real good," Thane said.

  "Then this should really work, right?" Uncle Gus asked.

  "We're all scared, Uncle Gus," Thane said.

  "Oh, I'm not," Uncle Gus said. "It's the FBI. They know what they're doing. They do this all the time, right?"

  "Okay, well," Thane said, "I better get going. Hey, since you're here, how about putting these up inside your accounts, or in their windows? Help spread the word."

  Thane took a stack of posters from the backseat and handed them through the window.

  "They made up these posters for an autograph signing I'm doing at the mall this Saturday and the next for the Boys and Girls Club," Thane said.

  "Are they paying you?" Uncle Gus asked.

  Thane looked at him for a moment with half a smile, as if expecting a laugh, then shook his head.

  "It's for charity, Uncle Gus."

  "Oh. Right," Uncle Gus said. "I was just thinking about everything else we've got going on. You know."

  "We're supposed to just act like normal, right?" Thane said.

  "Yeah, that's right," Uncle Gus said. "And you're ready to play for sure?"

  "But we're not telling them that," Thane said.

  "No, I know," Uncle Gus said. "We tell them you're dropping out, that your knee flared up again same as last week and you're done. Without you, they're going to feel pretty safe betting on Miami. So, you sure you two are okay? You don't want any company?"

  "Everything the same, remember?" Thane said.

  Uncle Gus nodded and removed his hands from the window. "Right, right. Okay. You two have fun."

  As they drove away, Ty said, "'You two have fun'? What's up with that?"

  "He's just nervous," Thane said. "How about Barelli's?"

  "Sure."

  "Just 'sure'? You lost your appetite?" Thane asked.

  "Until this is over, I think I did," Ty said. "Plus, I don't trust Uncle Gus."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He's not so nice," Ty said.

  "I never said he was," Thane said.

  "Believe it or not, he puts his best foot forward for you," Ty said. "I think he's up to something."

  "Like?"

  "I don't know," Ty said. "But I'm gonna find out."

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  AFTER DINNER AND A movie, Thane dropped Ty off in front of the house.

  "We didn't even talk about your game tomorrow," Thane said. "It's the big Brookfield rivalry, right?"

  "Well, you know," Ty said with a wave of his hand, "with all this."

  Thane nodded but said, "A football game is a big thing."

  "But I thought--"

  "I know, you've got all this stuff on your mind, but think about it. You only play how many games?"

  "Ten."

  "Ten games," Thane said. "You work year-round getting ready for the season, lifting weights, running till you're sick, then comes training camp, all those practices, day after day in the heat. Then you only get ten or sixteen or whatever chances to really play the game. It's something special. You can't let anything get between you and that."

  "Even Big Al?" Ty said.

  "Remember the car accident?" Thane asked, his voice taking on a somber tone. "I had a game the day after the funeral. I didn't care about the game, about football. I didn't care if I ever played again. But I had ninety other guys and twelve coaches counting on me. No one asked me to play. They would have been okay if I didn't. But this game, it's the ultimate team game. You need everyone to win it."

  "Coach V said if we lose, he's gone," Ty said.

  "Fired for one game?"

  Ty shrugged. "Brookfield is the best. They gave him five years to beat them."

  Thane nodded as if that made complete sense. "See? And they need you, right?"

  "I guess."

  "A great player doesn't perform his best when everything's good," Thane said. "He performs his best when it isn't."

  "I never said I was great," Ty said in a mutter.

  Thane lifted his chin and looked him in the eye.

  "Hey, look at me. You're a Lewis."

  Ty set his mouth and nodded that he understood.

  "Three o'clock, right?" Thane said. "I'm coming straight over after the charity signing. I should be able to just make it for kickoff."

  Ty thanked his brother, got out, and watched him go. When he walked into the house, Uncle Gus directed him right back outside, loaded him into his truck, and drove straight to Ludi's Meats. Three times on the way, Uncle Gus reached into his coat pocket and removed a roll of Tums. With a shaky hand, he popped the stomach medicine into his mouth straight from the roll, crunching it down and swallowing and leaving little powdery crumbs in his mustache. Even through the cigarettes, Ty could smell the sour odor of Uncle Gus's nervous perspiration. When they arrived, Uncle Gus tripped on the curb and stumbled again on their way up the narrow stairs.

  It looked like the same set of characters in the same smoky cloud to Ty, only this time, Lucy sat facing the door, right next to Big Al. Lucy threw down his cards and jumped up, his red scar glowing like the picture in Ty's science book of the spot on Jupiter.

  "There he is," Lucy said warmly, opening his arms.

  They all turned around, grunting their welcomes. Big Al leaned back in his chair and tugged a wad of money from his pants pocket. He counted out ten hundred dollar bills in a wheezy voice and waved them at Lucy.

  "This is for the kid," Big Al said, speaking without removing the stub of a fat c
igar from the corner of his mouth. "For college or something."

  Lucy took the money and circled the table, holding the money out for Ty. Ty folded the crisp stack of bills and tucked them into his pants without saying anything.

  "So?" Big Al said in a bellow. "Where are we this week? The Jets are favored by one. How's your brother?"

  Big Al's eyes sparkled at Ty with the ferocity of a snake preparing to strike. Ty opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He gulped. Uncle Gus nudged him and cleared his own throat with a squeaky sound.

  "Not going to play," Uncle Gus said.

  Big Al narrowed his eyes and removed the pulverized tip of the cigar from his mouth, pointing it at Uncle Gus but nodding his head at Ty. "I want to hear him say it."

  Uncle Gus nudged him again and Ty found his voice.

  "He's not going to play," Ty said.

  "Practiced all week but not going to play?" Big Al said with a glimmer in his eye that Ty couldn't read.

  Ty nodded. "That's what he said."

  "Was he limping?"

  "Yeah," Ty said. "The knee's all swelled up. It does that, poof, all of a sudden."

  "You saw it?" Big Al asked.

  "Like a grapefruit," Ty said.

  "That's a pretty safe bet then, isn't it?" Big Al asked.

  Everyone nodded and grunted and grinned. Lucy patted Ty on the back, nearly knocking him down.

  Inside the truck, Uncle Gus held his hand out to Ty.

  "What?" Ty asked.

  "The money," Uncle Gus said. "This is my deal, not yours."

  "He gave it to me," Ty said.

  Uncle Gus just stared at him and snapped the fingers of his outstretched hand until Ty removed the ten hundreds from his pocket and handed them over. Uncle Gus stuck them in his shirt pocket and began to whistle.

  "That went well," he said, pulling away from the curb. "You looked like you were ready to wet your pants in there."

  Ty flashed him an evil look and opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it.

  "You could learn from me, boy," Uncle Gus said, glancing over at him. "A lot of people see dirty toilets. I see never-ending business. You get it?"