Chapter 69: Small World, Big Jerk

Saturday, January 1, 1983

As was true two years ago, and last year ... all is quiet on New Year’s Day. We didn’t do very much. I’d just been on a multi-day date with my girlfriend, and Angie’d just been on a multi-day date with her girlfriend. Then we’d been to a party. We could afford to take a day off and hang out with the parents.

So, we did. We watched the Rose Parade, then ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ (on VHS, not broadcast), half-watched parts of a couple of bowl games, and played board games. Nothing big, but very special, especially for a couple of kids who knew how special days like this were.

A year from now it’d be the first day of the year where we were going to move out. No matter what, it’d have to be just a bit bittersweet. Today? Today was one last celebration of our being still kids, just a bit longer. Even if we weren’t exactly normal kids.

Sunday, January 2, 1983

No Study Group today, not with school out. I’d been debating calling Jessica when the phone rang about two.

“Hi, Steve,” she said, sounding stressed.

“Hi, Jess.”

“It’s on. Tonight at seven. The service drive at Martin Park. He seems certain of the time and place. Obviously, I’m not riding there with him, which he’s pissed about, but I told him we were never riding in the same car again, and he’s going with that.”

“We need to meet around ... four?”

“Four is good.”

“I’ll need to copy the tape and we need to make plans.”

“Makes sense. My house?” she said.

“Anywhere is fine. Jas would probably help.”

“That’d be ideal. I can tell Mom I’m going shopping.”

“Plan on it unless I call back.”

“Will do. Thank you so much, Steve!”

“Especially in this case, it’s my pleasure. People like this ... I’m glad to be able to do something.”

“Still, I really appreciate it! See you in a couple of hours.”

“See you then, Jess.”

My next call was to Jasmine. She was quite happy to help.

Then I called Cal, who told me he’d round up his guys and call back if there was a problem. Half an hour later he called back to let me know there wasn’t a problem and that both of them would be there as planned. Thank goodness for that; arranging backup at the last minute would’ve probably involved Cal or Andy or other people our bad guy might recognize.

When I got to Jasmine’s at four, Jess’s little car was already out front. I headed in. Jas met me with a hug, and then Jess added one. Yes, it amused me (and probably both of them) that things were so much different than they’d been only a few months ago.

We copied the tape in Jasmine’s room, making sure I could play the copy on my portable tape recorder. Having to stick Walkman headphones on the bad guy wouldn’t be ideal. It played just fine, as expected.

I went over the plan with Jess.

“We’ll be at Martin Park, nowhere near the service drive, by six-thirty. If you get there after that we’ll see you arrive and get ready.”

“I’m getting there at six-fifty-nine and not a minute earlier. And if he’s not there I’m gone. That’s what I told him and I’m sticking to it.”

“Good. We’ll see what we can do. I’d love to escalate — let the air out of his tires, or worse — but this is going to have to play out with him getting away with it if he plays ball.”

Jess sighed. “I still feel awful about that, but X won’t budge, and I don’t blame her. She shouldn’t have her life wrecked over this. It’d be different if she was eighteen, or even a month or two away, but this would screw up high school for her, which would screw up college, and so forth.”

Jas gave her a hug. “It sucks. No good answers, but at least we’re doing what we can.”

Jess hugged back. “Thanks for supporting me, and ... I’m sorry, again, for ... well, miscommunication.”

Jas blushed. “That was my doing, pure and simple. I ... it’s me who needs to forgive you, and I do. Completely.”

The way Jess looked, it obviously meant something to her. “Thanks. I mean it. Really. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Of course you are.”

We went over things a few more times. I made sure Jess was armed for bear, too. She shouldn’t need it, but ... prepared is prepared.

I got to Martin Park around six-fifteen. There were plenty of cars there (it’s a busy place, and the tennis players were out in good numbers, even on this early January evening) but one stood out. An older, dark Lincoln parked off to the side, just a bit away from all of the other cars. It matched what Cal had told me to expect, though he hadn’t known the make and model, just that it’d be another land yacht.

I pulled up a spot away. The driver’s window of the Lincoln rolled down and, much to my surprise, I found that I knew him.

It surprised him, too. “Are you kidding me? Steve Marshall? Cal should’ve said it was you!”

I chuckled. “He probably had no idea that we knew each other, Marshall.”

“Hell, man, you even know my name! How cool is that?”

“We do share it, in a way.”

“Hell, yeah!”

Marshall Briggs extended a giant hand and we shook. I guess that answered several questions. I thought of a new one.

“How’d you get away with going to a tournament on a game night?”

“Aw, hell, dude! We were playing Yates! If the rest of those guys couldn’t handle it, they didn’t deserve to win. My deal with coach was I got two tournaments in the fall, and he grudgingly agreed. Mama wants me doing something besides just football, in case I don’t live the dream, you know?”

“Makes good sense to me.”

“Hop on in.”

I did. Marshall nodded towards the other passenger. “This is T. J. He’s on the team, too.”

“Hey, man,” T.J. said. “T.J. Wright. Some coincidence. You do drama, too? I used to kid Marsh on that, but then he went and won and all.”

“Yeah, for the last year. Debate, mostly.”

“You could probably play ball,” he said. “Not line or anything, but you look like you could run.”

I shrugged. “Prior concussion. I’d get more, and the more you get the worse it is.”

“Hell, yeah. I’ve been damn lucky there,” T.J. said.

“Me, too,” Marshall said. “Scares Mama. She says I need to respect the brains God gave me. As long as I’m healthy I can play, but she’d pull me if I got my bell rung more than a time or two.”

“Cool, and wise of her!”

He chuckled, which came out as a deep rumble. “Cal said you were good people, but I’d have known that if he’d said who you were. We started jawing at each other during one of the games and ... heck. You know. He’s damn smart, too. Good guy.”

“One of the best,” I said.

We chatted a bit. I was highly amused that my ‘anonymous’ backup turned out to be a guy I’d probably see a few times over the next few months. No obvious connection, but ... well. It’s a small world, sometimes. I’d learned that a few times in my first life, but the world has a way of reminding you when you forget.

There was one more ‘small world’ part, and — of course — it crept into the conversation.

Marshall chuckled after a bit. “I guess you never expected to be hanging around with anyone from Washington, much less doing something big together.”

I shrugged. “Actually...”

T.J. gave me a look. “You know someone else at Washington?”

“Not now. I know someone who was there last year. Well ... sort of there.”

Marshall got it, not that it was that hard. “Gotta be H.S.E.P. Aka the White Nerds. That’s what we call ‘em, mostly.”

“Got it. He was there for a year, then decided he didn’t love it enough to make up for the long bus ride.”

“Where’s he go now?” T.J. asked.

“Bellaire,” I said.

“Hell, man, if I could just go to Bellaire without a long bus ride, I’d be there in a damn minute,” T.J. said. “‘Course, I’d say the same about Memorial.”

Marshall chuckled. “Washington’s not that bad, but ... hell, yeah. I’d be all over either of those.”

“I get the appeal of the whole magnet school thing,” I said. “But you’ve gotta be really, really set on what you want out of life, or that’s how it feels to me, anyway.”

“Yeah, man,” T.J. said. “Pretty much, what I want ... what we want ... is a scholarship, you know? But both of us want the education, too. I got a mama like Marsh’s. She’d knock me upside of the head if I started goofing off and thinking football was my only thing.”

“Wise mamas are a good thing,” I said.

“Word,” Marshall said.

“Word,” T.J. agreed.

Things started happening a few minutes later. A little car backed into the service drive. At first, I was wondering what possessed Jess to park there, but then I realized it was a sports car, and it hit enough light for me to spot that it was red. I rolled my eyes.

Marshall was all over it. “Seriously? Dude is trying to blackmail a girl into giving it up and he’s got... that? How’s he think that’s even gonna work? If that thing’s got a backseat, it’d hold two postage stamps.”

T.J. chuckled. “He’s not as big as we are, Marsh.”

“Yeah, but neither’s Steve here, and...”

I grinned and shrugged. “I drive a land yacht, too. That thing? Way too small.”

“Well, that blows my plan,” T.J. said. “I figured we’re just go sit in the back when she got here. You know, all ... companionable. We’ll have to hang out outside the car.”

“Yeah. On the other hand, if she has to use that ‘bear spray’...” Marsh said, using finger quotes, “That little thing will be a gas chamber. She’d better be ready to jump out the door!”

We kept joking about his car, and whether sports cars meant a guy was compensating for other ... deficiencies ... and so forth. Part of me realized we were looking for ways to settle our nerves. I, for one, was nervous. I imagined that Marshall and T.J. were. They were used to conflict on the football field, with rules. Washington had a reputation as a tough school, but I imagined very few bullies would dare pick on either of them. And, given Cal’s recommendation — plus wise mamas — I doubted they spent much time being bullies themselves.

After a bit of that, Marshall pulled out some ski masks. “Might as well put these on. Wouldn’t do to get recognized.”

“Hell, no,” I said.

“Hey, man! I’ve got an idea,” T.J. said. “You still got that polish, Marsh?”

Marshall rolled his eyes. “Mama would kill me if I didn’t shine my shoes when I should, you know that!”

“Well, look. I detest blackface pretty much all the time,” T.J. said, “but ... right now...”

I chuckled. “I’m game.”

“Don’t need your whole face,” Marshall said. “Just around the eyes and mouth. Hell, now it’s theatre!” He used his best British accent on ‘theatre’ — and it was really pretty good.

With some help, I got nicely camouflaged. No one would figure out who I was very easily, not in these clothes and with that face along with a mask. I’d worn a long-sleeved shirt and gloves, so there wasn’t much exposed skin to contend with.

“You’re doing all the talking, right?” Marshall said.

“Unless you or T.J. need to. Talk if and when you want, but, yeah, I’m doing most of it, at least.”

“Works for me,” T.J. said.

“Me, too,” Marshall said.

Jess drove up right at seven, as expected.

“Okay, it’s time,” Marshall said.

We waited for her to get out, walk over, and get in, then got out ourselves. We hung out for a minute, until the car’s dome light went out, and then approached by a slightly circular path, trying to make sure he didn’t spot us. As we got closer, I realized that wasn’t an issue. He was turned, looking right at Jess. I got the feeling he wasn’t happy, but that’s what I was expecting.

When we got to the car, I knocked on his window, loudly. Marshall and T.J. were behind me and might be nearly invisible. Black guys, black outfits, black masks.

The guy jumped, which ... is not the best idea in a tiny sports car with a low roof, honestly. Especially for a tall guy, which he was. I thought about Calvin’s comments about his dad’s back. I doubted he was NBA-player tall, but I could tell he was a few inches taller than I’d ever be.

He turned and ... fuck. I’d known his name was Glen, but I hadn’t known it was this Glen. I knew the guy. Not well, and not in a way I could explain. His brother was one of my dorm neighbors, and we’d talked a few times when he’d come over to visit. I’d known he was on the team, and I’d found it cool getting to talk to one of the players, but that was it.

Fortunately, I didn’t know him well enough for it to matter, but... ‘It’s a Small World After All’ went running through my head. This was clearly a night for that.