Chapter 42

I had been thinking about Monday morning for a week. Unless I was punching, my guard was up. Timex batted at my gloves but couldn’t get to my face. Every time he hit me in the stomach, I threw a punch at his head. We worked three good rounds and he only got me twice and even those were glancing punches that wouldn’t have hurt, even if I didn’t have on headgear.

We finished up with some speed bag drills. He knew it was my last day for a while and was trying to put a bow on it for the summer. That’s what he called it.

“What do you think, Timex? Think I can protect myself on the street?’

“If yo ‘tacker don’t punch b’lo da belt. An if he don’t have a knife o stick. An you gots to watch fo feet now, too. Sum ah that kung fu stuff ain’t right.”

“I guess that’s all true. Feet, sticks, and knives. How do I defend myself against that?”

“Best da’fense agains any weapon is distance. Use yo feet an keep yo distance. Stay out ah range till you ready to hit. Stay out ah range. That’s all I got, Aquaman. See you in da fall?”

“I plan to come back when school starts. You taught me a lot, Timex. Not just boxing.”

“Ah right, ah right. Miss Kim, you have a nice summah.”

“Thanks, Timex. You’re a sweetheart. Thanks for teaching Jack,” she said and surprised us both by kissing him on the cheek.

We touched gloves and Kim and I headed for the door as I worked to peel mine off. “You made his day,” I said. “What was that for?”

“I had time to look around while you were doing your speedbag drills. Next time you go in, you should check the framed newspaper articles. You know the ones. They’re on the right-side wall as you go in.”

“Tell me. What do they say?”

“They tell Timex’ real name and a bit of his boxing history. You’ve been thinking Buddy Miles was the big name at Mink’s. It’s not. It’s Timex. He may be past his prime but if those articles are half true, he could have hurt you any time he wanted to. He didn’t.”

“Wow. Now, I want to go back and read them,” I said, pulling the tape off my hands.

“He likes you, Jack. Proud of you even. Neither of us ever said anything about it but I’ll bet he knows we come from the other side of the tracks than most of their boxers. You worked hard and didn’t complain, and more than that. You treated him with respect. I think that went a long way.”

I thought about that in silence as we crossed over the Ashley on the Cosgrove Bridge. We had passed Charles Town Landing before I said anything. “It would suck if everyone didn’t give him respect. Timex knows shit. He’s patient and he challenges you. He challenged me but never so much that I didn’t think I could do what he asked. I wonder if he’s got any kids,” I said.

“One of the articles said he did. They would be grown by now.”

“I bet they’re successful,” I said, under my breath. I bet they really are.

After my shower, I stuck my head in to the coach’s office and told Coach Miller what I wanted to do and he said he could have a camera set up for me that afternoon. I could tell that he liked the idea. The football team had a bunch of cameras they used to analyze their play. He would use one of theirs.

I managed to make it to trig on time where we had an end-of-course review. There was so much material that she packed into an hour, I had no idea how anyone could keep up, unless they didn’t need the review anyway. A couple of people looked at me in a funny sort of way. It happened in science, too and on my way to English, I stopped in the bathroom to make sure I didn’t have my shirt on backward or something weird. I looked normal to me. When it happened in English, I asked the guy next to me in class. He mouthed ‘the news’ to me. That didn’t help much. The only thing I remember from the news was that England was at war with Argentina over some little island.

Once I got to lunch, I didn’t have to wait long to find out. I was the first out and took my usual seat. Lori, normally sat at the other end of the table, but she sat almost directly across from me.

“I suppose you’ve heard,” she said.

“No. What’s going on? People are looking at me weird all morning.”

“You haven’t,” she said as Kim sat across from me. Lori glanced at Kim and then back at me. “I think some people figured it was you and they kind of figured you’d be in jail or something.”

“Oh. Well, it all makes sense now,” I said, having no clue what she was talking about. “Lori, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I looked down the table and it was obvious that I was the only one who didn’t get it. I looked up at Kim and she shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t know either.

“The news last night,” Lori continued. “You remember Lisa Middlemarch, right? She moved two years ago.” I nodded. I remembered Lisa. She was really nice. Everybody remembered her. “Well, she was going to school at St. John’s. Anyway, Dillon, I mean, the boy who shall not be named, attacked her last night. He was in her house. Anyway, he got the shit beat out of him and he’s in the hospital. Lisa’s mom was on the news. They interviewed her and she wouldn’t say who beat him up. Everybody thinks it was you.”

“I don’t even know where she lives. Wasn’t me. In the hospital, huh?”

“Yeah,” Annie said. “Whoever beat him up, got him pretty good.”

“Probably her dad,” I said.

“He’s away on business,” Melanie said. “Georgia, I think. I bet he’s on his way home now, though.”

Lori finished her thought. “My dad says that whoever did it probably doesn’t have to worry about the police too much. Anyway, everybody thinks it was you since you beat him up in January.”

“I haven’t gone all Deathwish, if that’s what people think. Sheesh. Do I need an alibi or something?” Memories of Charles Bronson playing the vigilante came to mind. “I was at home, studying.”

“I don’t think so,” Lori said. “Do the police even know you got him before?”

“They didn’t ask about you when they questioned me before,” Annie said.

“Good. How bad is he? Did it say?”

“The news said his condition had been upgraded to stable, so it must have been pretty bad,” Lori said.

“Maybe it was Lisa,” I offered.

“She’s my size,” Annie said. I would have put him in the hospital if I could have but he’s like a hundred pounds bigger than me. You know how big he is.”

“Wait. Was Lisa okay?” I asked. “Who cares if Dillon is? I’m sure not going to send him flowers.”

“She looked okay on TV,” Melissa said. “She looked shook up, you know? She wasn’t beat up or anything. You know how she looked? She looked like she wished it would all go away. That’s how she looked.”

We talked about it for a while and I realized people from other tables were looking over at us every now and then. Enough of that. I stood up and hollered loud enough for everyone to hear, “It wasn’t me. I kind of wish it was but it wasn’t,” and sat down. I heard a few groans, as though people were hoping it was me. Huh.

I didn’t know what to think. My mind sort of raced around and I didn’t even hear what everybody was talking about. Part of me wished he’d just go ahead and die. It would be a safer world if he did. I remembered the look on Charles Bronson’s face when he shot a bad guy. I could definitely see someone losing it and deciding to go kill bad guys. I thought about the girl that ran into us and died. The only thing she did wrong was get drunk and drive. That, and not have friends to stop her. Dillon went looking for trouble and found it. Good. Maybe that’s what it would take. I finished my lunch without really tasting it. I stood up to leave and Kim put her hand on my mine.

“Where you going?” she asked.

“I need to go talk to Mr. McClusky. I bet he thinks it was me, too.”

She nodded and I walked to his office. When I got there, his secretary nodded for me to go in, without saying anything. Great. She thought it was me, too. He’d been working on paperwork and looked up when I stopped, just inside his door.

“It wasn’t me, sir.”

“Good to know. Do you have an alibi, just in case?”

“Yes sir. Home, studying. I don’t even know where she lives. It’s crazy. Why would he do that?”

“Rough family life, I think. I talked with Bob Ferch, over at St. John’s. Every principal in the world loves and dreads this time of year. They love it because they are graduating another class. They dread it because of the fear one of their students doing something stupid. I feel for him.”

“I bet. Well, I just wanted you to know I didn’t do it.”

“Thanks, Jack. I didn’t think so, but I appreciate you coming in to tell me. Miller says you’ve been taking boxing lessons.”

“Yes sir. I actually started a while ago but...”

“I get it. Don’t worry about it, Jack. Not your problem, and, thankfully, not mine either. Finish strong, okay? Congratulations on the SATs, by the way.”

“Thank you, sir. Any idea what’s going to happen to him, you know, when he gets out of the hospital?”

“No idea. I’m happy not to have to make that decision.” I nodded and left. What a crazy day.

That afternoon, I showed up at the pool as Coach Miller was setting up a camera. He had it mounted below the top of a tripod, only a foot above the pool deck, aimed across the pool at its midpoint. I walked over to say ‘hey’ and ask what the plan was.

“I’ve got a fresh tape in. When you’re ready, I’ll start it and let it run. You’re planning on swimming a mile, right?” I nodded. “Alright, here’s what I’d suggest. Use the number four lane. Swim your mile at near race pace and then swim another two or three laps to cool down. Don’t stop. Just swim another couple of laps.”

“Sure, Coach. But, why?”

“Humor me. Maybe we’ll both learn something.”

Coach started the camera and I started my swim. I didn’t need to swim all-out. There was a large clock by the side of the pool and I used it to help me be consistent. The longest event in high school swimming was the five-hundred free so there wasn’t a record to go by. College and Olympic times were down around fifteen minutes. I aimed for eighteen minutes. I thought I could do that but didn’t really know for sure. The main thing was to swim it fast enough to see how my form changed. I needed to be wiped out at the end of it.

I knocked out my mile in under eighteen and did a couple of more laps at an easy pace. It actually felt pretty good to swim at a leisurely pace. I wondered just how many miles I could do at a twenty-minute pace. When I finally climbed out of the pool, Coach was waiting.

“How did that feel?”

“I could have pushed harder. I think I could have done under seventeen today and I’ll bet if I worked at it, I could hit sixteen. Maybe not.”

“Good. Good. All you really need is a snapshot of the midpoint of each stroke as you passed in front of the camera, right?” I nodded. “I’ll give this to the geeks in audio-visual and they can extract that or trim this down. They live for that kind of stuff. Then, we’ll take a look at it together and see if we can learn anything.”

“Thanks, Coach. Even if I don’t learn anything from the video, I did learn from pacing myself for a mile. My vertical leap sucks, by the way.”

He laughed. “What is it?”

“Nope. It’s so bad, I’m not going to say. I’m working on it, though.”

“Good, Aquaman. Tell me when you’ve got a leap to be proud of. Hey, two of your eighth graders came around and asked about swim team. We may have as many as five new swimmers next season.”

“Coach, is there any chance Pendleton...”

“Pendleton sets a great example of solid work ethic. His best day in the pool was when the four of you faced off against Colleton.”

“That was a good day for all four of us, Coach.”

“In hindsight, it was a good day for the rest of the team, too. I think that story will probably last for a few years. Good motivator.”

“Do you know who the tall, Italian-looking guy was?” He smiled at me and I knew what was on his mind. “A couple of the cheerleaders were curious.”

“Louis Amoretti. I hear he’s quite the charmer, too. He’s graduating. He’s probably fast enough to get a few scholarship offers but he’s going to UCLA to study drama. Alec and I go way back. He’s the Colleton coach. He tried to talk him into swimming in college but he’s an actor too, and that’s where his heart is. Tell the ladies they can wait a few years and look for him on the silver screen.”

We talked for a few more minutes. I thanked him, showered, and changed. As I walked out to the truck, I realized I had plenty of input from people I trusted and respected in just the last week. I needed time to process. It wasn’t that long ago that I let a dream grab hold of me. I wasn’t going to do that again. I climbed in and Kim started the truck. She knew when I wanted to talk and when I didn’t.

I took stock of what I knew for sure. I loved Kim with all my heart and I wanted to spend my life with her. I was going to work for Hector for the summer because I needed the money for a ring for Kim and because I had promised. I was committed to swimming and baseball for next season. I thought a minute or two and came to the conclusion that just about everything else was negotiable. It was up to me. I wanted to decide, then tell Kim and get her input. I had a bunch of people that had already given input. Franklin, Karen, and Mom were a constant source of good advice. Cheryl had given me advice on sex. Doctor Legare and three coaches had given me advice that would take some time to sort through. I needed to write down all my options and see where they led, then decide.

I also knew that deciding early gave me a head-start on everyone else. And I needed it if I wanted to give my best. Better wasn’t a goal. I needed some concrete goals. Kim trusted me and said she’d stand by my decisions on which way to go. That was nice but it also left the burden of deciding squarely on my shoulders. I thought that I’d make up my mind and share my plans with her, then invite her to shoot holes in it. That’s what I would do.

We pulled into my driveway and got out. Kim looked over the hood of her truck at me. “Want to talk about it?”

“Soon.”

“I’m here, Aquaman. Whenever you want,” she said and ran inside to change.

I walked to the gym and sat on the bench before I realized Mom was on her mat, stretching. She looked at me and I saw the same look on her face as I’d seen on Kim’s.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked and I laughed.

“Yes. Not now, though. Just you,” I said and she nodded. “Not Dane, either. Just you. I need to figure out a couple of more things, first, though.”

“Sounds serious.”

“Yeah. Kind of. Lots of stuff and I want to put it all together sort of in one package. You know? Sort of interlocking, I guess. If one thing’s wrong then maybe it’s all wrong. That kind of thing.”

“Say when. Don’t wait too long though. It’s about to get pretty busy. Bachelor party Friday night, rehearsal and dinner late Saturday, and wedding Sunday afternoon.”

“And I start work for Hector Monday morning. Maybe tomorrow night.”

Kim came out and we had a solid workout, focusing on our back. We agreed that a good leg work out on Wednesday might be our last workout until the following week. There was simply too much on our plates to plan on working out for the rest of the week. We finished and Kim went home to study and I walked down the street to Mrs. Diedrich’s house.

We talked for nearly an hour. I asked about Chester and how he made decisions on important things. She said he had great intuition and she trusted him. I asked about any mistakes he had made and how she felt about them. She said that love covers a multitude of sins, and I guessed that meant she loved him enough to take the bad with the good. I asked and she told me some pretty funny stories about driving on dirt roads and without so many signs. She laughed when she told those stories. I loved how her eyes crinkled when they did. I could tell she was getting tired. I told her I’d get the branches from the side yard as soon as I could and excused myself.

After dinner, I settled in to study. Kim and I had tried to do that together but it didn’t work very well. We didn’t have any of the same classes, since Kim was a year ahead and it would be impossible to stay focused if we tried to study in the same room together. We’d lasted about ten minutes.

The schedule changed the next day so that each class would have more time for finals. I would have a final in math, English, and science on Wednesday, then history and Latin on Thursday. Friday morning was reserved for goofing off and last-minute administrative crap. Graduation ceremonies were on Saturday. I wanted to go because of Birch and Vince but I would be cutting it close on time. Straight from graduation to the rehearsal. It would work better if I had a ride.

I grabbed some dinner, studied for a couple of tests I was sure I’d ace, then hit the sack. I fell asleep trying to come up with a good toast for the wedding. I didn’t even remember hearing one before so that might be fun. Argh!

My trig final wasn’t bad. I had a hunch the final was a bit of a gift for the kids who had been struggling. My English final was even easier. It was a lot of material but it was pretty straightforward. I finished early and got a pass to go to Mrs. Augustine’s office.

She wasn’t busy so I asked the three questions I’d had on my mind. She answered two of them, handed me a catalog, and invited me to sit. I flipped through it until I found what I was looking for. It only took a minute to know I’d struck gold.

“That’s last year’s catalog. Would you like me to order a new one for you?” she asked, smiling. She already knew the answer.

“Yes, ma’am. This looks perfect.”

“You have the grades, Jack. Keep them up and you’ll have no problems. Seems like your plan to take physics might pay off, too.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks so much,” I said and practically danced out of her office to lunch.

I was the first one to the cafeteria. Mrs. Wetzel smiled as I approached and I hugged her and then, turned to walk to my usual spot.

“Why, Jack Pierce, what has gotten into you?”

Did I just do what I thought I’d done? What a dope. “Knocked out a couple more finals, Mrs. Wetzel. Life is good.” She hmphed, but when I looked back, she was smiling.

One issue solved, eight to go. Or something like that. I ate my sandwich and tried working on my poker face. I started running through the other variables and was making some serious progress when Annie came out. I thought it would be difficult to transition from calling her Fling but it was actually pretty easy. I knew I was grinning and I needed something to say to explain it.

Everyone else took seats and when Kim sat across from me, she knew something was up.

“Hey, ladies, I have a quiz question for you. Your favorite Colleton County swimmer is Louis Amoretti.”

“Ooh,” Lori said, “There’s more coming. Do tell.” Everyone was curious.

“Here’s the quiz. Do you think Louis Amoretti is, A, returning to Sicily, where his uncle is the head of the Mafia, B, going to New York to work as a model, or C, going to UCLA to study drama?”

“B. Definitely, B,” Lori said. And that’s when the discussion took off. Everyone knew he wasn’t going to Sicily. Kim wasn’t interested. She knew something was up with me but wasn’t going to press it.

After they were done discussing the possibilities and I’d told them he was going to UCLA, the discussion changed to summer plans. Lots of beach time, a couple of trips to Europe, and a cruise of the Caribbean were among the plans. Lori said she was thinking about going to UCLA to check out the campus, and she was promptly heckled for that. Kim was quiet the whole time and at one point, she reached across the table and took my hand. She wanted to be involved with whatever I was thinking about.

That afternoon, I clobbered my science final. I was pretty sure I hadn’t just clobbered it. I thought I aced it. Either way, it was good enough to guarantee my A. I found Coach Miller in his office.

“Come on in. Have a seat,” he said, pointing to one in front of a TV cart. He rolled his chair over next to mine. “You’re going to find this interesting.”

He pushed ‘play’ and we watched a thirty-second video of me swimming. It was a compilation of thirty snapshots of me swimming from right to left and another thirty of me going back, left to right. I watched it but I didn’t see anything. He pushed stop.

“What did you see?”

“Me swimming. I know I’m missing something.”

“That’s what I thought, the first time I saw it. I took it back down to the audio-visual guys and they came up with something a little different. Watch again. Focus on your head and hands. Mostly hands.”

He pushed play again and I spotted it. It was obvious.

“I had them just do shots from every five laps but leave them on the screen longer so we could see. Tell me what you noticed.”

“I turn my head more in the last half. It’s like I’m trying to get my mouth higher out of the water.”

“Yes. Exactly. What else?”

“That’s it, Coach. That’s all I noticed.”

“Alright. I’m going to tell you what to look for and then play it again. First, your elbows aren’t as high after fifteen or twenty laps. You start getting lazy. And then your hands don’t enter as smoothly. With lower elbows, your hands enter the water almost flat. You’re putting on the brakes with each stroke. Watch.”

He played it again and then I could see it. “Dang, coach. Do you think I’m doing that on shorter distances? Would I be doing that if it was only a five-hundred?”

“I don’t know, but it’s something to keep in mind. You know how to work on that, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. I think if I was going to race a mile, I’d want to be able to do two or three, just to have the stamina. And, I want to focus on those things, especially when I swim longer distances. I want to do this for butterfly, too. And then I want to do it for the fifty and hundred.”

“Slow down, Aquaman. You’ve got enough to keep you busy for the summer. Next season, we’ll be doing this for everyone. Tomorrow, I’m filming Birch and Claire. I told them at lunch and they were all in.”

“That’s great, Coach. I wonder...”

“Go on. You wonder, what?”

“I wonder if I could film myself in the batter’s box or throwing and learn something.”

“I know you could. See how much your mechanics change when you throw short versus long. I’m going to bring this up at the coach’s meeting. If our football team has been using this for years, why haven’t we? Time for that to change.”

“Coach, I bet they’ve using that to watch plays. Not body mechanics.”

“I’m sure that’s it. Maybe they’ll find a new use for these cameras.”

“They do slow-motion, too, right, Coach? I’d kind of like to see what Jerry Milton’s face looks like when a shuttlecock hits it at a hundred miles an hour.”

“Out,” he said, laughing. “I saw you guys trying to kill each other with the birdies last week. Surprised no one went to the hospital. Out,” he said again and I left.

I sat in Kim’s truck, waiting for her, and I didn’t have to wait long. She climbed in and before she could say anything, I started the conversation.

“How did you do?”

“Good. So far, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a B in math and science and an A in French. English and history tomorrow. How about you?”

“Doing my best to be jock geek Jack. History and Latin tomorrow. I don’t think I could do poorly enough in either of them to get a B but I haven’t done the math. I swam a mile yesterday and Coach Miller filmed it and today we looked at it. It was totally cool to see exactly what I need to work on.”

“Nice. Hard to fix, or easy?”

“I don’t think it will be too hard and the problems only show up at a longer distance. I want to do it for butterfly and maybe breaststroke. He said he’d do it for the whole team next season.”

“Useful, then?” I nodded. “Anything else?”

I knew what she meant. “Soon. Few more details. Soon.”

We got back to the house and joined Mom for a workout. We hit legs hard but before we did, I tested my vertical leap. A half-inch better. This was going to take a while but at least I had a goal and a good reason to work on it. We finished and once again, Kim went home to study. I wanted to study but before I did, I walked down the street to Mrs. Diedrich’s house again and knocked on the door.

“Hello, Jack. What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here again so soon?”

“Would you tell me another story about Mr. Diedrich?” She beamed when I asked, then invited me in and served me some sweet tea. She told me four or five great stories. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything as rewarding as asking to hear stories about her sweetheart. When she finished, I told her Franklin was getting married and my plans for the summer. It was a great visit. I promised to come back and tell her all about it.

When I got home, Dane wasn’t there yet. Over dinner, I asked Mom a bunch of questions about school and work and bounced some ideas off her. I realized I’d gotten advice from nearly everyone but Mom. She had some good ideas. She’d had good ideas for me before but these were becoming much more specific. Overall, she liked my ideas and plans and helped me refine them a bit. I had a hunch that by talking things over with her, she might not mind me growing up as much. You never know.

I studied for my last couple of final exams and then hit the sack confident. Two more tests and a half a day on Friday and I’d be a sophomore. Or maybe I’d be a junior. I still didn’t know how it worked when you were trying to graduate in three years. Sophomore seemed safe. What difference did it make, anyway? The main thing was, I’d no longer be a freshman.

Kim picked me up the next morning and we talked about our last couple of finals. I felt good about mine but Kim was a bit concerned. I got this sudden insight that if she got a B, it might disappoint me. It had never crossed my mind. She was plenty smart and grades didn’t prove that she was or wasn’t. Didn’t Einstein fail math in school?

My history final was a breeze. I finished early and popped open my Latin text. Last Latin class. Last language. Sweet. I was sitting there thinking about my last Latin class ever, when something Coach Miller said hit me in a different way. Birch hated breaststroke until he started to get fast at it. So, sitting in history class, thinking about Latin, I had the strange epiphany that what Coach said didn’t just apply to swimming. Huh.

I swung by Mrs. Augustine’s office. She had another student but she was just finishing up.

“Another look at the catalog? Yours will get to you next week, you know?”

“No, ma’am. You said there were a couple of other schools in town. One of theirs.”

She smiled and thumbed through the shelf behind her until she found what she was looking for, then passed it to me. I looked through the table of contents to see what majors they had, then the map to see where it was. Not bad.

“Is it a good school?” I asked.

“Not the best but it’s good. It certainly wouldn’t hold anyone back. You can get a great education at a school that doesn’t have the reputation of Harvard or MIT. Still good schools.”

“Do you think...”

“I’ll call them. You want one of theirs, too, right?”

“Yes, I do,” I said, confident I had a plan. Might not be the final plan but it was workable.

I was the last to the squad’s table and just as I sat down, Annie finished.

“Trespassing, aggravated assault, and attempted rape of a minor. That’s what the news said.”

“Out of the hospital?” I asked, knowing she had been talking about Dillon James.

“Yeah. The news said he had a coup brain injury. There was more to the name, but that’s what I remember. He has amnesia. Doesn’t remember any of it. He got hit on the head,” Annie finished.

I thought about it for a moment. “You know the best part of that story?” I asked.

“The part about him getting hit on the head so hard he can’t remember?” Lori asked.

“No. The attempted rape. Attempted. That means he tried but didn’t.” Everyone agreed with that.

“Can we talk about something else?” Lori asked. “I’m getting a B in trig, wahoo!”

The conversation switched to finals and how everyone was doing and what was left. Kim looked at me with that question on her face again. “Soon,” I mouthed. I still had a couple of things to nail down. She huffed in a funny way but I knew she was getting anxious. I was, too.

I was pretty excited about my Latin test and it surprised me. I wanted to finish well, even if I’d hated the class. Plus, I had a new insight. The final was actually easier than I’d expected with eighty questions and an essay. When class was over, I went to the pool.

Birch was in the water and Claire was still in his warmups. Coach Miller had the camera set up in the same place as before. I sat with Bobby and watched Birch knock out a very fast five-hundred breaststroke. Then he did two hundred free, back, and butterfly. When he finished, Bobby got in the water and did the same thing, except he switched back for breast. Bobby’s backstroke was a thing of beauty. I didn’t know how they would find anything on film. Birch sat next to me and we watched in silence for a few minutes.