Chapter 9

The next morning, Dane and I were at it early. We’d cleaned the sheepshead the night before, then set it to marinade in lemon juice, salt, pepper, and smoked paprika. I took care of broiling the fish while Dane made eggs Benedict, and grilled asparagus. Mom came in, rubbing the sleep from her eyes just as we finished. He fixed plates for each of us, while I poured coffee for them and OJ for me.

“This is amazing,” Mom said, taking a bite of eggs.

“Uh-huh. Try the sheepshead,” Dane said.

“Oh, my. Mmmm. Oh, this is just perfect. The asparagus is good too. Not mushy. Is that Italian seasoning? Oh, this is good.”

Dane and I enjoyed listening to Mom almost as much as we enjoyed breakfast. It was pretty good. We ate it all, and scraped our plates. Dane’s Hollandaise sauce was delicious.

“The only thing that would have made that better is if we could have figured out a way to incorporate chocolate somehow,” I said.

“You’re such a dufus. Alright, I’ll return the favor tomorrow morning. That was amazing, guys. Thank you.”

Kim picked me up and I relayed the story of Dane’s catch and our cooking. “I should be jealous,” Kim said. “Okay, I’m a little jealous, but I’m also glad you got the chance to do that with Dane. He’s going to be your stepdad. It was great that you and Franklin did all that stuff together but this is important too, right?”

“I guess it is. It’s weird, though. I think of Franklin like a friend more than I think of him as a brother sometimes. And now, Dane. I know Dane’s a lot older than Franklin but it’s almost the same to me, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it. What’s normal? Mom, dad, two point-two kids, a dog, and a house with a white picket fence, right? Neither of us is anywhere close to that.”

“No. I hadn’t even thought about it like that before. Sally kind of was. Is, I guess, but her older sister is weird,” I said.

“But her dad is a butt, though, right?”

“He was. She says he’s really treating her a lot better, you know, more like an adult.”

“Well, regardless of what’s supposed to be normal, or whatever we are, I’m glad you like Dane and are doing stuff with him.”

“Thanks. I am, too. I’ve got a lot more friends now than I had a year or so ago, and that’s kind of cool.”

We walked to class smiling. We were going to have a partial read-through of The Twelfth Night and I didn’t have one of the parts. Woohoo. I listened while other people read their lines. It was the easiest hour of school since sometime in the fourth grade.

We got our tests back in history and I’d aced it, which is always nice. Some kids who usually got great grades didn’t fare so well and we spent a lot of time covering the essay questions. Coach Miller expected people to think – that’s what he said. I approached him after class.

“Coach, did you talk to Aaron?”

“Now, why would you ask that?” he asked, all innocent.

“I think you know. He apologized yesterday.”

“Maybe he did that all on his own,” he said.

“Maybe. But I have a hunch he at least got a little nudge.”

“A little nudge. He’s a good kid. He just messed up. Plus, he heard that you took care of a much bigger Dillon James.”

“Huh. I think his big mistake was in not taking his time to learn the new school and people before stepping in it.”

“I think there’s some truth in that. Let’s give him a chance. Oh, and by the way, if you don’t know it already, he does have his sights set on your events. He’s got some major corrections to make and if he does that, he’s going to give you a run for your money.”

I smiled. “I’m just trying to figure out how to drop some time off my backstroke.”

“I’ll tell you how. Keep your feet under water. Let the water cover your ears and everything in between should be in one straight line. Streamlined. Your hands are pretty good but your head and feet are too high so your butt drags.”

I thought about it for a second. “Okay. Are we going to break out the video camera?”

He laughed. “Soon, Aquaman. Soon. I want people to make major corrections before we start refining. Go. You’ll be late for precalc.”

“Thanks, Coach,” I said as I turned to leave. How did he know my next class was precalculus? Did he know everybody’s schedule? Did anything get past him? I looked back but he was busy erasing the board to start over with the next class.

We got our tests back in precalc. I’d missed two and one of the two was a really stupid mistake. I still got an A, but it always pissed me off when I made stupid mistakes. It’s always the same reason and I should learn to slow down and take my time when it seems easy. Kim only missed one. Great. I would never hear the end of it. She beat me on her worst subject and I was supposed to be the math whiz.

At lunch, everybody razzed me about it. Kim must have put the word out. Lisa had taped the word ‘dunce’ on her cheerleader megaphone and put it on my head. I tried to look gloomy about it but it was too funny. Kim was enjoying herself way too much.

“How did you do on Miller’s test?” Annie asked, bailing me out.

“I aced it. One hundred.”

“Huh,” Lisa said and put the dunce cap on her own head, which got another round of laughter.

I noticed other people laughing from other tables. Ryan was laughing and I smiled at him, then noticed who he was sitting with. I raised my eyebrows and he smiled back. Susan Simpson was cute and seemed nice and I liked Ryan so it seemed good to me. Aaron sat with a few guys near the football team, but he wasn’t laughing. I think he was just trying to figure it out.

That afternoon at swim practice, Coach Miller had changed his mind on waiting until the following week. I think Bobby and I started it but pretty much everyone wanted to race.

“Alright, I can see how this is going and I’m not going to stand in the way,” he said to us before we got in the water. You’ve got fifteen minutes to warm up. Then, we’ll cycle everyone through lane one. Breaststroke. Give me one hundred meters of your best breaststroke. I’ll give you your time and give you a couple of things to work on. We’ll finish by having the eight guys with the fastest times give us their best for a hundred meters. I’ll pick another stroke tomorrow. You all want to see where you stand? Here’s your first shot at it. Go.”

I warmed up with some freestyle before switching to breaststroke. It’s easy to share a lane with someone when you’re both doing freestyle or backstroke but butterfly and breaststroke can be a pain. That kick flies out and you can nail your buddy if you’re in the wrong place on your stroke when you pass. I shared a lane with Ryan and gave him a few tips but he almost nailed me a couple of times. He was nothing, if not focused.

Coach Miller cycled through everyone, giving tips to each when they finished. I thought I had a pretty good breaststroke, even if it wasn’t my favorite. I gave it my best effort and when I popped up, Coach was ready.

“You picked up a lot from Birch. Your arms are pretty good. You could angle your hands down just a hair. Experiment with that. Where you’re going to see improvement is with your kick.”

“Not good, huh?”

“It sucks, Pierce. Relax. I’m kidding. It’s not that bad but it could be better. This isn’t a tweak. This is major. You don’t have or aren’t using the flexibility you need. Heels up to your butt. When you kick, I want you to feel the water on your calves and especially on your instep. I think if you work on flexibility, you’ll see some of that improve automatically.” He thought about it a minute. “You know what will help you? Work on your kung fu sidekicks.”

Nothing escaped him. “I don’t know those, Coach. I just started a couple of weeks ago.”

“Tell Sifu Chen ... No, tell Seiko it will help your swimming.”

“Coach, how do you know this stuff?”

“You have to know these things when you’re a coach.”

He had quoted from Monty Python. “King, coach. You have to know things when you’re a king,” I corrected.

“What’s the difference,” he said and we both laughed. He didn’t do that often. “Okay. Top eight,” he said and gave us our lane assignments.

Gil was in four, Allen was in five, and I was in three. Gil had been fastest, then Allen, then me if Coach gave lane assignments according to time. We’d have an in-water start which certainly didn’t favor me. He gave us the countdown and started us. I tried to incorporate what Coach had just told me but it was tough. I had a great turn but we came in in the order we’d started.

I was starting off the season third fastest in a stroke I didn’t really like. I could live with that. At least I knew what I needed to work on. Breaststroke and backstroke, not that I was satisfied with my fly or free.

“I see the clock, too, gentlemen. Before you go, I want to put this in perspective. It will only take a minute. First, I’m happy with what I see so far. Some of you have been doing some work off-season. Second, just because you didn’t finish in the top two or even get a chance to race, doesn’t mean you won’t compete. There is plenty of time to improve and you have work to do. Gil swam in Birch’s shadow all year and he’s ready to compete. He also has the best breaststroke, technically. Allen, you made some nice improvements in the offseason. I’m expecting the two of you to continue to improve because you’re now wearing a target. Pierce’s not going to be happy with third, and I don’t think Claire is going to be happy with fourth.”

“No, sir,” we both said, almost in unison.

“Let’s talk about grades for a couple of minutes. I believe everyone here is capable of a three-oh. I need to see at least a two-five if you plan to compete. Ryan and Aaron, you’re new and I’ll extend a bit of grace while you get accustomed to a new school. Ryan, Coach Schlotzki, from BC said you were a hard worker and he has faith in your ability. Aaron, Coach Neighbors said about the same concerning you. Tomorrow, butterfly. Dismissed.” There were some groans when he said, ‘butterfly’ and a couple of the guys gave me grief about how I must enjoy the torture of the stroke.

I ended up walking to the parking lot with Ryan. He commented that Bobby and I had babes for girlfriends. He wasn’t wrong.

“Anyone got their heart set on Marci Watkins?” he asked and that caught me off guard.

“Not that I know of. Go for it.”

“Any tips? Anyone that figures out how to get Kim McTighe to go out with him must have some secrets,” he said and I laughed.

“Bobby is the lady’s man,” I said. Bobby was definitely not the lady’s man. “You should ask him.”

“I don’t know what you have for breakfast every day, Aquaman, but I want the recipe.”

Woo, boy. “This morning, I had fresh sheepshead bass, eggs Benedict, and grilled asparagus,” I said that as nonchalantly as I could, just as if that was normal.

“Maybe I could go for a lunch menu. You really had that for breakfast?”

I told him the story and he enjoyed it. He had never been fishing before and had no idea about any of it.

“Miller called my old coach. That’s crazy.”

“Get used to it. He doesn’t miss much. He’s a good coach and he’ll hold you to the highest standard he thinks you’re capable of. Oh, and he rewards effort and commitment and isn’t interested in excuses.”

“You always know where you stand?” he asked.

“Always. And if you’re not sure, ask. He’ll tell you. Like I said, he’s a good coach.”

Kim and I went back to my house and worked out. When we were almost finished, Marie drove up. She stuck her head in the gym and smiled but didn’t say anything. We joined her and walked up to the house together.

“You two want to learn to dance and, presumably more than American Bandstand specials, right?” we nodded. “Then Marie and I will teach you. Marie and I are both working tonight but we can start now and work for about an hour. Sound good?”

“Yes, ma’am. I want to.”

“Good. Some people come into the studio and have specific dances they want to learn. What about you two?”

“I don’t know one from the other,” I said.

“I want to learn them all,” Kim added.

“Oh, honey, you don’t know what you’re asking,” Marie said, laughing.

“We’ll get you started and see where it goes. We’ll start with East Coast Swing. That’s a lot of fun and a good place to start. Then, we’ll go to the Rumba, unless Swing is too tough. Then we’ll backtrack to Rumba. Sound right to you, Marie?”

“Music,” she said. “Let’s go.”

“We’ll demonstrate moves first, then we’ll show you sort of in slow motion. Then you repeat. First, though, I have to teach you cues. That’s where to put your hands and how to move them. Jack, you have the hard job. You have to decide what you’re going to do, keep a rhythm, and give Kim cues in good time. Kim, you have your job. You have to do it all backward. Marie, do you want to be the guy or the gal?”

“I want to be the guy,” she said, with a ridiculously deep voice. Then we did exactly what Mom said. Learning was easy. Doing was a little more difficult. I paired with Mom and Kim with Marie, since she was the guy. We’d been at it an hour and the time had flown past.

“Okay, you two. Nice start. We have to go. There’s leftover meatloaf and sides in the fridge. Dane will be late so don’t worry about saving anything for him. If we do this six or eight times, I think we’ll be ready for a dance party.”

“Nice,” Kim said. “I want to dance something flashy at our wedding.”

“Ooh, honey, that sounds like a wonderful goal,” Marie said. “I know just the thing,” and they were gone.

Kim looked at me, then her watch. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

We practiced horizontal dancing and it was a lot more fun.

Thursday at lunch, word had gotten out about how good Ben Lippen’s football team was, and had guessed that they would annihilate us. Annie was still wearing a soft boot and Lisa had gone home early with flu symptoms. It didn’t look like it was going to be a good weekend for the garnet and gray. There wasn’t anything I could do about it. Just one of those things.

Swim practice was interesting. None of the new guys could swim the butterfly without risking drowning. When it came time to race, I was in the four lane. I decided to really push it and won by three body lengths. Ryan, Gil, and Bobby, finished together with Aaron right behind them. There was a big gap after that.

Coach wasn’t happy about it. Somehow, I knew just what he was thinking. He wanted me to anchor medley relays but unless one of the other guys could pick up the pace on the butterfly, he’d have to use me there. He called us together before dismissing us.

“Butterfly is the toughest stroke but it’s typically the stroke that provides the greatest opportunity for improvement. None of you drowned and that’s good. Don’t laugh. Seven years ago, I thought I was going to have to fish out one of our freshmen. He stuck with it. He never made it to the top two but he sure put the pressure on them in his senior year. Despite his miserable start, he was able to contribute. Obviously, there’s plenty of room for improvement. Friday, we’ll see how you do with ... backstroke. Don’t get all gloomy on me. Like I said, room for improvement. See you tomorrow, gentlemen. Gil, Aaron, you two have a big test tomorrow. Be prepared.”

“How does he know this stuff,” Aaron asked.

We all smiled. “If your mother ate a Snickers bar in the third grade, Coach Miller knows how many nuts were in it,” Gil said, and they laughed.

“You guys are laughing but I think he could find out. Dang,” I said, not really sure how Coach Milla got all his inside info.

That afternoon, Kim left after our workout to do something with Mel. I went to the pool and worked on my backstroke for a while. I tried to work on my turns but without backstroke flags it was impossible. I worked on my push-off and kick, instead.

Kim had told me to skip the game on Friday night, since it was a ninety-minute drive each way. I told her I’d think about it. I called Bobby to ask what his plans were. He reminded me about the guys talking trash about our girls. Ben Lippen wasn’t exactly in the rough part of town but he was going to go. So was I. Settled.

Mom was starting a health food kick and that meant lots of dark green veggies and plenty of fish. She’d read a book by Ancel Keys about how healthy Mediterranean food was and decided if the country bordered the Med, it counted. Turkish or Greek, Moroccan or Libyan, it was all fair game for her new experiment. I asked her to leave eggplant out of my menu and she laughed. Fine.

Friday at lunch it was a bit like a funeral for a friend. I walked over to the football table to talk with Jay Spencer who was surprisingly cheerful. I took a knee and asked him what he thought about their upcoming game.

“We have a plan. Coach Littleton is going to try something new tonight. We all know that if we don’t do something different, we don’t have much of a chance.”

“You guys are optimistic, then,” I said.

“A little optimism and a little curiosity. We’re going to give it our best shot. Be nice if we could do better than Goose Creek. You going?”

“I’ll be there. Now, I’m curious. Any hints?”

“Nope. You could be a spy,” he said and we both laughed. Alright, I was curious.

That afternoon, it was almost the same guys racing backstroke as had been in the water for breaststroke and fly. I lined up with Bobby in four and Gil on the other side of him. My work on turns the night before helped a little but I really needed to get better on timing after the flags. The other thing I realized is that I was terrible about judging where my nearest competitors were. I finished third behind Bobby and Gil, with Aaron right behind me. I thought backstroke might be his best.

We all figured Bobby would win and he didn’t disappoint. However, Gil’s performance the last couple of days was unexpectedly strong. “Hey, Gil,” I said as we walked to the bleachers. “You been doing something different?”

“Wheaties,” he said, with a smile.

I thought Bobby and I would be the two guys for IM, but Gil was looking pretty strong. I thought if Aaron and Ryan could clean up a couple of their strokes, they might be contenders as well. I knew I was the youngest out of the five of us but that didn’t mean anything in the water. Coach gave us a bit of a pep talk before dismissing us for the weekend. I showered up and changed into street clothes.

In the parking lot, I gave Kim a hug and a kiss and told her I’d see her at the game. She told me I didn’t need to go, but I said I wanted to. I saw Mom’s car and walked over.

“I know you hate this, Buddy, but you’re overdue. You need it before your first competition for insurance, anyway.”

“I feel fine. It seems stupid.”

“You still need a doctor to tell you that. Once a year isn’t a big deal. Besides, you already had your blood drawn for lab-work. It would be a shame to get stuck for nothing.”

We got to the doctor’s office, I checked in and got the initial stuff out of the way. I was six-one and one-seventy. A nurse took my blood pressure and pulse and remarked that they were both really good. The doc came in, checked my ears and throat, thumped my chest and listened, looked in my eyes, and a few other odds and ends. Normal stuff, I guess.

“You, sir, are a picture of health. In fact, your blood work came back better than last time so whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

“Thanks doc. Anything I should know about?”

“Not really. Certainly nothing to be concerned about. All your vitals are in the “athlete” range, and your A1C is much lower than last time and that’s good.”

“What’s A1C?” I asked.

“Blood glucose levels. Yours are lower than before, and that’s good. Healthier diet?”

“I think so. Not as much chocolate ice cream, which kind of sucks.”

“I’m sure it does. When you’re old enough, don’t drink or smoke, keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll probably live to one hundred.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No reason why you shouldn’t. You’re sure not going to die of heart disease.”

I thanked him and met Mom in the waiting room. She asked and I told her what he’d said. I didn’t plan on drinking or smoking. I really missed chocolate ice cream, though. We celebrated my wonderful health by trying to screw it up at Burger King. “A little indulgence every now and then shouldn’t hurt,” Mom said. I had a chocolate shake for dessert, just to mess with my A1C.

Bobby was waiting for me when we pulled in. I grabbed a few things from inside and we were on our way. We talked about swimming, and especially about Gil Vechey. I said I thought Ryan could really help the team if he corrected some big errors he had. Bobby said he’d been talking with a couple of guys who knew Aaron better than we did. Apparently, Aaron had expected to start off as king of the pool because rednecks don’t know how to swim. We had a good laugh at that.

It was a straight shot up I26 through Columbia to St. Andrews Blvd. It was a long drive and we barely made it to our seats before the game began. We found spots a couple rows up from our girls. We knew Lisa was out sick, and Annie was still on crutches. Lori was missing, too. That left a pretty small squad. They tried to make up for it with volume but the Ben Lippen band made that tough.

I was really curious about what kind of plan our Cyclones had. Ben Lippen’s Falcons got the ball first. We kicked off and they had a pretty good run back to the thirty-five. And then we stopped them. Three and out. It was crazy. Our guys seemed to know what they were going to do before they did it and were just waiting for them. They punted and we had a crappy runback.

On the first play, Jay took the snap and started to follow a blocker to the right. Then he turned and passed the ball across the field to a tight end and he took off. He made it twenty-five yards to the fifty before they caught him. I looked at Bobby in disbelief. They tried a run to the left but it didn’t get far. Then Jay handed off to our running back and he followed blockers to the right in a play that looked just like the first one. Our back was about to be caught when he did the same thing Jay had done but this time, Jay was the receiver. The pass was perfect and Jay made it down to the fifteen.

Ben Lippen’s Falcons had barely got in position when Jay took the snap and threw to the endzone for a touchdown. The home team side of the stadium was in shocked silence while we were screaming our heads off. No kazoos and pencils that night. I kind of expected our team to be excited but they weren’t. We lined up for the kickoff but instead of kicking it deep, we sort of dribbled in a few yards and one of our guys fell on it.

“Can you do that?” I asked Bobby.

“Yeah. It’s usually a last-ditch move at the end of a game. Sort of a desperation thing because it doesn’t work very often.”

Five minutes later, it was fourteen zip and we kicked off again, this time, deep. The Falcons went for it on fourth and two and made it but we stopped them on that series and they had to punt again. No one expected this.

As our offense took the field again, Bobby tapped my shoulder. “Look,” he said, pointing to the endzone bleachers. “Allen is sitting on the top row with Barry something. I don’t remember his name. He was supposed to play this year but got injured.”

“I see them. What am I looking at?”

“Allen scouted Ben Lippen last week. He’s got binoculars and a notepad and Barry has a walkie-talkie. Coach Littleton has the other end. Allen’s feeding him Ben Lippen’s lineup and what he thinks they’re going to do. Watch. Coach, motions plays. I watched us do the same thing on defense.”

I watched the exchange for a while, and it was pretty cool. This was the secret they’d had up their sleeve and it was working. By halftime, we were ahead twenty-eight to ten. I saw Jay’s mom, screaming her head off as they jogged to the locker room. He looked up at her and smiled, then kept jogging to the locker room.

“Can they keep that up?” I asked. “We can’t win this game, can we?”

“I don’t think so. I think we caught them flat-footed footed and they’ll adjust at halftime. They have to know that Goose Creek kicked our butts. They should make some serious adjustments on offense. Their play calling has been too predictable and their defense has let us have some pretty big plays.”

“You know football,” I said, realizing Bobby knew a lot more about what was happening than I did.

“Older brother and Dad both played. They’re both Atlanta Falcons fans and love Steve Bartkowski. I get another lesson every Sunday. They don’t know shit about swimming.”

I looked at him and he looked at me and we both laughed. How crazy was that? We walked down to the girls and Bobby repeated his assessment of what was going on. He told them not to look at Allen because he didn’t want them to blow it for him. Who knew what they would do if they figured it out?

In the second half, Ben Lippen did a lot better, especially on offense. We continued to move the ball and scored a couple of times but we weren’t crushing them the way we had in the first half. With four minutes left in the game, they threw a bomb for a touchdown and tied the score. We got the ball back and were moving it pretty well, when our running back got knocked flat and he fumbled and Ben Lippen recovered.

They only had to move the ball ten yards to get into field goal range and that’s what they did. With less than a minute to go, they kicked a field goal and were ahead forty-five to forty-two. Jay managed to throw a couple of passes and got us down to their thirty-five. With ten seconds left, Jay handed off and went out for a pass again. It had worked before. He was about to catch it on the five when he got clobbered and a yellow flag flew. Pass interference. Bobby told me you couldn’t end the game on a defensive penalty so we had one more play. We called our last time out because Jay had been pretty slow getting up.

There was a big discussion on the sidelines and I asked Bobby what he thought they were talking about. “We’re close enough to try for a field goal to tie the game but we’re also in range to try to put it in the endzone to win. Either way, we’ve only got one shot.”

“What would you do?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think Dink has it in him. He’s not real confident and this is super high pressure. I think they’ll go for the TD.”

We watched them line up for a field goal attempt. Jay took his spot as the holder and Dink walked back to his spot, lined up for the kick, and nodded. Pretty much the whole stadium held their breath. Jay took the snap and Dink made his approach and kicked the field goal. Except he didn’t. There was no ball in the air. Jay had it and was running around the left. He had one guy to beat and it was a race. Jay angled toward the very left corner of the endzone, but their safety was faster and knocked him out of bounds on the one-yard line with no time left on the clock.

The Ben Lippen side of the stadium went crazy. We had lost by one yard. One yard! Our guys all came to the sidelines and looked pretty dejected. And then we started making noise and clapping like they had just won the Super Bowl. We didn’t just do it for a couple of minutes either. We kept it up. The players waved to friends and family and then went out on the field to congratulate the Falcons.

“I wish we would have won but it doesn’t get much better than that,” Bobby said. We went down on the field, talked to the girls for a couple of minutes, and then set off to find a couple of our guys to congratulate. It was pandemonium. We managed to holler a couple of congratulations over the noise before we saw a flash to the west and heard thunder. When it happened again, a voice over the loudspeaker told us there was lightning within five miles and we needed to clear the field.

The four of us got to Bobby’s car right before it rained. It was going to be a long drive home and even longer if we didn’t do something about Bobby’s crappy windshield wipers. It was too late for anything to be open except Walmart. He ran in while the three of us waited in the car. When he got back, he drove across the parking lot to a gas station and the two of us got out to change them and fill up. Back on the road, Mel asked the question, “How did we do so good?”

“That’s Bobby’s department,” I said and he did his best to explain it. They both had questions and I was glad they did. I didn’t entirely understand it either, but it made more sense by the time he got done. Almost two hours later, we dropped off Mel, then Kim, and finally me. I thanked Bobby and went inside. It was almost two in the morning, I was tired, and the house was quiet. I hit the sack.

After a relaxing swim and a good breakfast, I found Mom and Dane in her greenhouse. I bragged on our football team for a while and told them of my plans for the day. After I promised to provide a full report, I went in and called Kim. She had no plans; the storm was over and I was prepared. I made a couple of phone calls and waited for her to pick me up.

“Where to, mystery man? And why won’t you tell me?” she asked when I got in.