Chapter 17: That Voodoo That You Do

Saturday March 11

When I got back from my run, Manaia was waiting in the drive.

“Yeah, I know, we need to get moving,” I said as I left to take my shower and pack.

Manaia stepped into the house. I was sure he was going to eat and grab my dad so we could all get going. I’d rented a plane again for this weekend. Flying on your own schedule was much better than having to travel at the whims of commercial airlines.

I did my external preflight check of the airplane with Roy because it was a plane I had only recently been checked out in. It was a Cessna Caravan, an overgrown single-engine Cessna normally used for light cargo and lifting skydivers, but pretty much the smallest aircraft that could carry three football players, their dads, and an overgrown Samoan. Just as we were finishing up, I saw my Dodge Demon pull up and Cassidy get out. We’d kept the trip on the down-low with the idea it would be a guys-only weekend. Someone had obviously opened their mouth.

She strolled up with her bag and stowed it under the plane, then approached us and smiled.

“Thanks for the heads-up. I forgot to put this flight on my schedule,” she said to Roy.

He picked up on the fact that I hadn’t invited her.

“I just assumed...” Roy said and then suddenly had something else to do.

Cassidy turned to me.

What could I do? I just shrugged.

She smiled, got onto the plane, and sat down in the copilot’s seat.

Maybe Manaia could haul her off the flight. Then again, Fritz wouldn’t be happy if she hurt one of his guys.

Tim and Wolf both appeared, one on each side of me.

“What’s going on?” Wolf asked.

“If one of you is brave enough to tell her she can’t go, have at it,” I suggested.

“Not it,” Wolf said.

Tim rolled his eyes.

“Looks like she’s going,” I said.

“You better explain the rules to her,” Tim said.

I scoffed.

“Why are you worried? It’s not like you’re dating anyone.”

“Not the point, jackass,” Tim said.

“It’ll be fine. David will talk to her,” Wolf said and quickly walked away.

I looked at Tim.

“Not it,” he said and followed Wolf.

You would think we had planned a weekend to Vegas and had hookers lined up the way they were acting. I did receive a call from Hayden Walsh, who was the current starting quarterback for Oklahoma and came in fifth in last year’s Heisman voting. Since this was an unofficial visit, meaning the University wasn’t paying for anything, we could do what we wanted. Hayden had invited us to a party tonight to give us a feel for campus life.

I figured it would give me a chance to get his take on going to school at Oklahoma. The rumors were that next year would be his last and he would move on to the NFL. Just like my buddy Ridge Townsend was planning at USC. Part of the appeal, for both schools, was that I could slide in as a starter my first year on campus.

The early mock drafts had both Ridge and Hayden going in the first round. Another plus in my book. What was it Coach Mason used to say? RSP? Repeat Successful Plays? I was counting on that, meaning that both USC and Oklahoma would continue to produce NFL-caliber quarterbacks in the near future.

Wolf and Tim were convinced that Hayden might hook them up with some college girls. Hence, the need for no witnesses in the form of Cassidy Hope.

Somehow, Wolf was still dating Gina. I’d warned him that communication was the key in a situation like this. Somehow, they always found out. I, on the other hand, was dating Lisa. The big difference between Gina and Lisa was that I’d never even implied that Lisa and I were exclusive. Believe me, I remembered that conversation. When she’d asked for the same leeway, I’d told her to go ahead. That was when I’d known we were never going to be more than convenient for each other until the end of the school year.

I climbed into the pilot’s seat.

“You know the rules of recruiting trips...”

“Shut up. That just means you have to do the same for me,” Cassidy said.

Well ... I guess that solved that.

“Okay, then. Let’s get this party started.”

Cassidy checked to make sure everyone was strapped in. Roy waved to indicate we were all clear, so I turned the motor over. Cassidy contacted the tower as we made our way to the runway. There was no other traffic, so we were given clearance.

I looked over at Cassidy, and she smiled. She loved this as much as I did.

“Next stop, Norman, Oklahoma,” I said.

On our first trip to OU, we’d flown into Will Rogers Airport, which was a half-hour from Norman. With a private plane, we could actually fly into Westheimer Airport, which was owned and operated by the university. I made a mental note of how close the airport was to the campus and put that in the plus column for Oklahoma over USC.

After we landed, the tower directed us to our assigned parking spot. As we got closer to our destination, we saw a crowd of people.

“What do you think that is?” Cassidy asked.

I wasn’t sure until we got close enough to see Oklahoma’s crimson and cream colors. There had to be a couple hundred fans gathered around where we were going.

“That’s our welcoming committee,” I announced to everyone.

“Let Cassidy and me get out first,” Manaia ordered as we came to a stop.

I just rolled my eyes at Cassidy, who shook her head. Fritz had had a long talk with me privately about listening to my security after the last time Cassidy had told on me. I waited to get off the plane until everyone else was off. When I exited the plane, the crowd made their presence known.

Oklahoma really should consider flying recruits into this airport if their fans would greet them the way they did us. It was impressive, the amount of love you felt from the loyalists wanting you to attend their school. Of all the recruiting tactics I’d experienced, this was one of the most effective. I saw Tim and Wolf take in the adulation. You couldn’t help but like a school that turned out two hundred people on a Saturday morning to greet you.

Before this turned into a meet-and-greet, John Mercer, the Director of Football Operations and the person who organized campus visits, stepped forward.

The man was good. He remembered everyone’s name with personal welcomes. Then he whisked us away to the football offices. We were to meet with the trio of Head Coach Bob Michaels, Offensive Coordinator and Quarterback Coach Nick Riley, and Defensive Coordinator Tom Michaels.

“Welcome!” Coach Bob Michaels boomed as we entered the building. “You just made my day walking through those doors.”

That was an odd comment, but I waited until we were all in a conference room before I asked about it.

“What did we do to make your day?” I asked.

“We just lost our top quarterback recruit to some legal problems that will prevent him from attending college anytime soon,” Coach Riley shared.

Oklahoma had received a verbal commitment from a four-star recruit out of Texas. There had been some controversy when he’d been suspended from his high school football team for unspecified reasons. He’d convinced Oklahoma that he had everything in hand, so in December, they’d signed him to a National Letter of Intent. From what Coach Riley had just said, his problems were worse than anyone had let on.

I wasn’t naïve enough to ignore my potential competition at my position. His absence made my path to starting that much easier. It seemed like the football gods were looking down and showing me that Oklahoma might be the place I should pick.

“Tell us what happened with Michigan,” Coach Riley said.

I let Tim and Wolf explain why we pulled our commitment.

“If you commit again... ?” Coach Bob Michaels asked.

“Then we are coming,” I said to reassure them.

“What will it take for you to pick Oklahoma?”

“We are here this weekend to confirm what we’ve learned so far. Next week, we have you and USC in for in-home visits. If need be, we’ll fly out to USC next weekend,” Dad explained.

The USC visit would have to be on Sunday because we had our annual baseball tournament on Saturday.

“To save time, we’d like to split you up and show you how we think you would fit in,” Coach Bob Michaels said.

Dad, Cassidy, Manaia, and I stayed with Head Coach Bob Michaels. It must get confusing around here when you said ‘Coach Michaels,’ given that the head coach and defensive coordinator were brothers. We were joined by one of the support staff who ran the video equipment.

For the next three hours, I was in football heaven. Coach Michaels broke down how they ran their offense, and we dug into the intricacies from correct reads to foot placement to all the rest. Coach Michaels wanted to see how I evaluated film by asking probing questions, which got us into the weeds sometimes. It was interesting to see that Cassidy was taking it all in, while my dad and Manaia tried not to look bored.

“The progression is wrong on that play,” I said.

“Exactly!” Coach Michaels said. “I wish Hayden was here because I have told him a hundred times that he wasn’t doing it right.”

I could see why Hayden would think the way he did, because they scored on the play each time, even though he was doing it wrong. As if he knew we were talking about him, Hayden Walsh entered the room.

“Hey, David. Coach,” he said.

Coach Michaels shared with him that I’d picked up on his skipping reads in his progression.

“How would you evaluate Hayden? What does he need to work on this coming year?” Coach Michaels asked.

That cause me to raise my eyebrows because I didn’t want to come across as a know-it-all rookie.

“I’d like to hear that too,” Hayden said.

I gave them a little smile and decided to go ahead and tell them exactly what I thought.

“You have an NFL-ready arm. I’ve heard the knock that you can only perform out of a clean pocket. But what I saw on film was you being elusive enough to move in the pocket, and that you can think on your feet. You have a knack for throwing an accurate ball so it leads your receivers to where they need to be,” I said.

“Sounds like you don’t think I’m fast enough,” Hayden said.

“I have no doubt that if you and I raced, I would beat you ten out of ten times,” I said.

Coach Michaels had a big smile on his face. Hayden gave me a look that said I was toast, and then he smiled, too.

“What else is wrong with my game?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard you aren’t tall enough and you have small hands, both of which are nitpicky complaints you hear NFL scouts spouting. You’re the same height as Drew Brees, and he’s done alright.”

“Okay, what else?” Hayden asked.

“You’re overaggressive at times. I saw it more with your deep balls where you thought you could force it in for a score. Sometimes, it’s better to take what the defense gives you instead of trying for it all.”

I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. That was what Bud Mason had hammered into me since I started going to camp with him. Maybe I’d finally seen the light.

“Have you seen him for enough film work?” Hayden asked of the coach, who nodded.

“It has been helpful, but I think my entourage is done,” I admitted.

“I could use a beer,” Dad agreed.

“Why don’t the dads do that and we go out and toss a ball around?”

That sounded good to me. Coach Michaels turned me over to Hayden but held my dad back to talk for a minute. Hayden and I walked to the locker room so we could change into shorts and t-shirts.

On a visit like this, you could no longer do ‘official’ workouts. Schools could only get away with that by doing camps and what they called ‘Junior Days’ for the younger players. They did allow unofficial workouts with team members as long as no coaches were involved. Another rule was that you couldn’t do the regular drills to measure you like I’d done at numerous camps.

I soon found they had figured out ways around that.

“Hey, Hot Shot. I think your mouth was flapping in there and you said something about beating me in a race,” Hayden said.

He did so in front of his and my teammates.

“I think the exact quote was that I could beat you ten out of ten times,” I fired back.

That started some good-natured ribbing.

“You can’t let some kid stroll in here and disrespect you.”

“I don’t know. If I were you, I would be scared.”

I looked around to take it all in. We were in the Everest Training Center, which had a full-sized football field indoors. One of the cool things was that it had LED 40-yard timing devices, which one of the players just happened to know how to operate.

“It’s not too late to back out,” Hayden offered.

“You might want to rethink this, Old Man. I would hate to come into your house and embarrass you,” I said.

“Isn’t that what we do?” Wolf asked as he tried to hide his smile.

“Yes, it is,” I said and then got a contemplative look. “As a matter of fact, I bet all three of us can beat you.”

That stirred up the hornet’s nest. We all knew that the coaches wanted to see the three of us timed. Hayden no longer looked like he was playing.

“Tell you what. If all three of you beat me, I’ll buy you all dinner at Fuzzy’s Taco Shop and then a lap dance at Sugers. We’ll do that before we go to the party tonight,” Hayden said.

“And if we lose?” Tim asked.

He was our weak link, speed-wise, and wanted to know what was on the line.

“You have to pay for the first keg,” Hayden said.

“I can eat a lot of tacos,” I said.

“Who do you want to race first?” Wolf asked.

I liked that because it would force Hayden to run three times instead of racing all of us at once.

“Nice try,” Hayden said, wise to our devious plan. “We’ll run it all at one time.”

“You sure you don’t want me to race you ten times?” I teased.

“Just line up and let’s do this.”

Word got out that Hayden was upholding the pride of Oklahoma against high school kids who had smarted off. Hayden found over half the team lining the forty yards to cheer him on. I was impressed; he didn’t look nervous at all.

On the start, we were all even, and his teammates were yelling their support. Ten yards in, and it became evident that both Wolf and I would beat Hayden easily. We’d been working on our speed drills and were both taller than he was. Our longer strides ate up more ground than Hayden’s shorter legs could. Tim, on the other hand, was the same height as Hayden at six-one. They were neck-and-neck.

Wolf and I focused on our form and finished the race. I looked back, and Tim had Hayden by a nose. That was until Hayden dove for the finish line. It was close. I checked the LED displays, and they both read 4.88. That might be a personal best for Tim.

Tim helped Hayden stand up.

“Shit, I thought you had me,” Hayden admitted.

“What do we do in the case of a tie?” I asked.

“I say we still hit Fuzzy’s and Sugers before the party, but you have to pay your own way,” Hayden said.

Come to think of it, that was probably the best solution since we were on an unofficial visit. It might be an NCAA violation to buy recruits lap dances.

We caught up with the dads to talk about where we stood after we played some seven-on-seven.

“It’s everything I remembered. I like it here,” Tim said to kick things off.

“Seems to me we fit in better than we would in LA,” Wolf added.

“I agree it’s a better place football-wise. My only concern is how it stacks up educationally,” I said and then shared with them the report my mom had found.

“Once we move into the house in Malibu, it would be closer if you were at USC,” Dad reminded me.

“It would be easier for us to come to games if you go here,” Jared, Wolf’s dad, said.

“The girls were better looking at USC,” Conner, Tim’s dad, pointed out.

“I like the weather better in LA,” Cassidy said, and when we all looked at her, she added. “I’m going to school wherever David does.”

“Did you apply to USC?” I asked.

“Brook helped me, and I’ve been accepted at both schools,” Cassidy said.

I would have to dig into how Brook ‘helped’ her get into USC because only thirteen percent of applicants were admitted. While Cassidy’s grades were okay, she didn’t quite fit their criteria for acceptance. It was different for athletes; they didn’t go through the normal process to get accepted. I, on the other hand, could be admitted based on my grades and college board scores. I even had a few extracurriculars, like winning an Oscar, that would help me get in if I didn’t go the football route.

The better question was, how did Cassidy plan to pay for USC? It was nearly fifty thousand dollars a year more expensive than Oklahoma. The last thing I wanted was to see her going into significant debt to follow me to college. I would pull her dad aside and make sure that wouldn’t happen.

I knew our high school was proactive in identifying scholarships and grants to help pay for higher education. Coach Hope must be aware of what her alternatives were. He was about to have two children going to college at the same time. He’d surely planned for this.

Then I stopped myself. Cassidy was a big girl who I knew for a fact could figure this out. Heck, she never seemed to need any money when she was around me. Of all the people I knew, she was the one who would puzzle out on her own how to get her college paid for. I had to stop trying to save everyone before they even asked.

“If it’s simply a football decision, then Oklahoma is where we need to go to school,” I said.

“Do you think that going to Oklahoma would make it easier for you to get to the NFL?” Conner asked.

I took a deep breath.

“In some ways, yes. Defense isn’t something that’s played at a high level in their conference. Look at Hayden’s numbers from last year. They were good enough to put him in the top five for the Heisman voting. The downside is they play a spread offense from the shotgun. The NFL wants quarterbacks that play under center.

“For Wolf, Oklahoma is his best option because of the offense, while I would think Tim would want to go to USC. In the last ten years, USC has put almost twice as many linebackers into the NFL as Oklahoma has,” I said.

“We need to decide whether the NFL is a realistic goal,” Jared said, being the voice of reason.

From the looks on their faces, neither Tim nor Wolf liked his point. The odds of any one of us making it to the NFL were slim at best. The smart play would be to go to USC and get a better education.

Our dads made plans to go to a sports bar to watch college basketball. The NCAA tournament started next week, and there were a ton of good conference tournament games on TV. I think they were using this trip to have a dad bonding weekend.

For the rest of us, Manaia had insisted on renting a car so we wouldn’t have to ride with Hayden if he planned to drink. Hayden met us at Fuzzy’s Taco Shop located in the historic Campus Corner area right across the street from the campus. I loved their tag line: Welcome to your new addiction!

“What do you recommend?” Wolf asked Hayden.

“The spicy pork taco and fish tempura tacos are good. You have to order them with the habanero butt-burnin’ sauce. It gives it just the right amount of heat.”

Cassidy looked over at me and rolled her eyes. She wasn’t buying that it was the ‘right amount of heat,’ either. Anything that claimed it would burn my butt was not going in my mouth.

“What about this drunken pig soup?” Tim asked.

“It’s made with borracho beans and the spicy pork. Borracho means drunken. They make the beans with Mexican beer. You should try it,” Hayden suggested and then smiled. “Of course, get some of the habanero sauce to give it a little zing.”

“Of course,” I said skeptically.

None of us fell for the butt-burnin’ sauce gambit. I love tacos, so I was happy with the choice of Fuzzy’s for dinner. It was good, but I’d had better tacos. Thankfully, you couldn’t really mess them up.

Sugers was down an alley next to Fuzzy’s.

“Are we going to be able to get in?” Tim asked.

Hayden stopped us before the door.

“Here’s the deal. You’re my guests, so they’ll give you a pass at the door. Once inside, be respectful to the talent,” Hayden said.

“He means dancers,” Cassidy clarified.

“The owner is a former stripper herself and can be a real ball-buster who doesn’t take any bullshit. She has little tolerance for anyone who makes the mistake of ‘denigrating her property,’” he said with air quotes.

From the way Hayden said it, he apparently had firsthand experience with the owner’s wrath.

I’m not sure what I was expecting when we walked into the club. Inside the door, there was a wall of pictures of female anatomy in all its glory. The club was dimly lit by different-colored lights. Over the music, you could hear pool balls clink as they crashed into each other, and men talking. There was a faint smell of sour beer and the funky scent of old sweat. On the stage, there was a young woman in sexy lingerie, her barely concealed assets shaking for the world to see. Frankly, I wasn’t impressed.

“This is great!” Wolf chirped, offering another point of view.

Tim and Wolf were staring at the woman as she did a sexy shimmy on stage. When I looked closer, I saw she was older, maybe in her late thirties.

“Hayden!” a scantily clad woman yelled as she came bounding up.

We all got big smiles on our faces when Hayden seemed to be embarrassed that he’d just been outed as a regular.

“Mercedes reserved you VIP seating because of your guests,” she continued and then recognized me. “Oh, My God! You’re that actor.”

“Hi. I’m David,” I said as I shook her hand.

Frick! I had a new fan.

“Would it be okay if I got a picture with you?” she asked.

“That would be fine,” I said.

The girl must have thought ‘right now’ because she left us standing there as she ran to the dressing room to get her phone.

“Where did Ginger go?”

An older woman who I assumed was the owner was standing behind us.

“She wanted to get a picture with David,” Hayden said and nodded at me.

She squinted, and it dawned on her who I was.

“I had no idea Hayden had come so far up in the world. Would you be willing to have a picture taken so I could put it behind the bar?” the owner asked me.

That was wrong on so many levels. Frank would kill me.

“I’ll have to pass,” I said.

“No problem,” she assured me. “Come on, I think we have a table reserved for you.”

She took us to a table in a room along the back wall. There were three VIP rooms with two-way mirrors so that you could see the action without people seeing you. Three couches lined the back wall and the two sidewalls, with an open area in the middle. My best guess was that was where private dances took place.

Once we were finally alone, Hayden wanted to talk to us.

“Hey, just so you know. If the coaches knew I’d taken you here, there would be hell to pay. This isn’t the kind of thing that Oklahoma ever does. I don’t want you to think this is some inducement for you to come here. It’s just I made a promise to show up tonight and forgot you were coming today. I hope you don’t take any of this the wrong way.”

“I get the promise, and respect that you followed through on it. Keeping my word is important to me as well,” I shared.

Wolf and Tim decided they’d had enough of the bonding that Hayden and I had going on.

“David, go do that voodoo that you do and get us some women,” Tim said.

“David has to get you women?” Hayden teased.

“He is the ultimate chick magnet. I bet he walks out with the hottest woman here on his arm by the time we leave,” Wolf said to support me.

“Sorry to disagree, but that’s not happening because Hayden is walking out with me tonight,” Cassidy said and glared at all of us.

I hadn’t noticed, but she’d claimed the seat next to him. I wasn’t about to challenge her assertion that she was the hottest girl in here. So far, from what’d I’d seen, she might be right. Before either Tim or Wolf could get themselves maimed, the door opened, and the girl who’d met us at the front door came in with her phone.

I was about to get up when she just climbed onto my lap.

“Say ‘cheese’!” she said and snapped the pic. “Is it okay if I do a velfie?”

“A what?” Hayden asked.

“A video selfie. Keep up with the times, Old Man,” I said with a smile.

“I can hurt him for you,” Cassidy offered.

“Sorry, Dude,” I said, acting scared.

Hayden wasn’t sure what to think.

“Guess who I’m with?” the hostess asked and then turned the camera on me. “David A. Dawson. He is much sexier in person ... and the bod! Let me just say that along with being tall, dark, and handsome, his muscles are hard.”

She wiggled her butt to try to get a rise out of me. Mr. Happy must have been in shock like the big brain was because he didn’t even twitch. It would be a race to see if my mom or Frank would get to me first if this hit social media.

“Do you think you can keep that video between us? I’d hate for your boss to get into trouble,” I said.

“Ah, I get it,” she said and nodded. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“A waitress, and my friends need lap dances,” I said.

“Coming right up!” she said as she bounced off my lap and was out the door.

“Someone forgot to take their medication,” Wolf observed.

“Any chance she doesn’t post that?” Tim asked.

“Not a chance in hell,” I predicted.

I sent a text to Frank to expect it. He sent me one back with five dollar-signs and a happy face. There had to be other PR people out there.

Strippers aren’t cheap. I could have paid hookers for less money than Manaia, Tim, Wolf, and Hayden shelled out. I also had to pay an additional ‘tip’ for the one that Wolf touched inappropriately. Cassidy jabbed him under the arm, which let the rest of them know that there would be no repeat performances.

After the girls left, we were kicking back, just being guys. Well, except for Cassidy, of course. We were about ready to take off and go to the party when a new song came on for the next dancer. Hayden perked up and smiled. The song had my attention because it was the theme from Skyfall, a James Bond movie.

“This you have to see.”

The lights all went dark, and then a spot pointed up towards the ceiling where you could see an angel, complete with giant wings, sitting on a swing. I’d seen plenty of models in person, and they never affected me. I think it was the same with these strippers. They were all there to do a job, and I simply ignored the nudity. This girl was completely different.

First of all, she was stunning. If I were to draw a fantasy perfect girl, one that would personify sex, the drawing would be of her. The perfection started at her toes with her nails painted ruby red. Her sensual calves went up to thighs that reached all the way up to her perfect derrière. There was a family of reality stars that would have killed to have a butt like hers.

Her hips narrowed to a tiny waist that sat under the world’s most perfect tatas. I’m talking about those just-the-right-size C-cup breasts that sat high and firm on her chest—the perfect size for a stripper’s body. What really set her apart, though, was her face. My first thought was that she had to be a direct descendant of Helen of Troy, who was said to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Helen was indirectly the cause of the ancient Trojan War.

As she looked down, it was as though she was searching all the faces below, trying to find her prince, for she had to be royalty. You caught a glimmer of her disappointment at not seeing him tonight, and then she smiled. All thought left my mind.

If I had lived back in the time of Helen of Troy, I would have stridden up, jumped onto that stage, and claimed her as mine. If anyone challenged me, they would have died on the spot.

“Oh, shit,” Cassidy mumbled, and when I looked at her, she said, “You’re going to do your voodoo, aren’t you?”

“Good luck with that. I’ve been trying to get Mercedes to go out with me for months,” Hayden said.

My entourage all chuckled.

“Just sit back and watch the show. You might learn something,” Tim told Hayden.

I looked back up, and Mercedes was doing acrobatics on the swing. That meant she was in good physical shape. A big plus for what the sexual beast inside of me wanted to do with her. She finally landed and lost the wings and most of her clothes. Mercedes was down to a thong and sheer bra that hid nothing. She then began to do pole work that was of the same caliber as you would see at Cirque du Soleil. Mercedes was a true artist.

Then Mr. Happy took control of the body when she backed up to the pole and pushed so her butt cheeks spread. I sucked in my breath when, with straight legs, Mercedes folded in half and wiggled her bottom suggestively. I had a pole that would love to take its place. That was when I got up and left the VIP room.