Chapter 29

William had walked, rather than drive, to the high school. The walk had been a weird experience. The old houses, the trees lining the streets, and the autumn air lent the neighborhood a timeless feel. Outside of the cars in the streets, it could have been any decade from the fifties to the present. With each step along the way, he was fully aware that his father had taken the same route to school when he was a child. Walking to the school had made him feel like he was walking in his father's footsteps. For a moment, the past and present were overlaid one atop the other.

Making his way through the crowded gates, it seemed to William as if the entire town had turned out for the game. The drawing together of the community around a single event reminded him of the town in Arizona. It had a similar sense of togetherness. There was a little pushing and shoving that wasn't present in Arizona, but the people here hadn't lived under the calming influence of John Carter and Ed Biggers.

Even though the game wasn't to start for another twenty minutes, the place was full of people. Entire families sat together on the bleachers with bags filled with snacks, blankets, and seat cushions. Classmates sat together, pushing and shoving each other with laughter and teasing comments. Lovers sat side by side, staring into each other's eyes. Hundreds of little private dramas play out, but were shared openly for all to see.

Looking around the stands, William could see that all of the seats near the center of the field were taken. It was clear that the middle of the bleachers were the highest demand seats. Rather than displace someone who had a more vested interest in watching the game, he walked over to the least filled end and took a seat about halfway up the stands.

He had just settled into his seat when a young woman sat down next to him in a manner reminiscent of a bird coming in to land. She had short black hair styled in spikes. Her outfit, black pants and black tee-shirt made her look like some sort of Goth, but the effect was ruined by tanned skin, the lack of piercings, and tasteful makeup. Leaning over to him, she said, "Visitors usually sit on the other side unless they're looking for a fight."

"You mean this side is meant for regulars?" William asked wondering if he had missed some sort of sign.

"Huh?" the girl asked confused by his question.

"You said that visitors sit on the other side of the field. So I would assume that this side is for regulars," William said.

"This is the side for the home team," the girl said looking at William with an odd expression.

A squawk from the railing captured William's attention and he turned to examine the black bird sitting on the railing. It studied him with the same degree of interest. William, speaking to the bird in his Native American tongue, asked, "What are you doing here?"

The bird gave forth another sound and William looked at the girl with real surprise. His tone of voice was a mixture of question and statement when he said, "The bird says he is your friend."

She smiled at how he had phrased it and said, "That's Blackie. He's one of my birds."

"Hey Birdie. What's up?" a young man asked as he stepped up the stairs of the bleacher. He knew that she didn't like the nickname, but everyone used it. She was the weird girl in school who was more at ease with her birds than people.

"Oh hey, Mark," answered the girl absently as she studied William. She didn't really care for Mark, but he wasn't as bad as most of the guys in the school. They were all small town boys and she had dreams that they couldn't comprehend. She was more interested in how William had figured out her relationship with the bird.

Wondering if he was in the right place, Mark looked at William. Joe had asked him to find an Indian and spend the game with him. This guy was the only Indian he had found. He wondered why he was seated next to Birdie. He asked, "Are you William?"

Surprised to be recognized, William answered, "Yes."

"I'm Mark. Joe said that you've never watched a football game. He asked if I would explain the game to you."

"Thanks. He did say something about finding someone to explain the rules of the game to me."

Mark looked over at the girl with a frown and said, "I see you've met Birdie."

"You're a friend of Joe's?" Birdies' face had a slightly disgusted expression on it. She didn't mind Mark so much, but Joe was a complete jerk.

The crow gave forth another squawk that loosely translated into Sparrows and Wrens. William turned to face the bird and said, "I see. Should I be concerned?"

When the bird squawked again, Birdie and Mark both stared at William talking to the bird in a language they couldn't understand. William looked at the two people seated next to him and, seeing the odd expressions they were giving him, said, "Blackie says that you are like Sparrows and Wrens. Those are two kinds of birds that occupy the same territory, but do not interact well with each other. He says that you are not friends, but you are not enemies either."

Although Birdie talked to her birds, she was skeptical that the birds talked back. She had been surprised by the remarkable exchange between William and Blackie. It was almost as if they were talking. Mark said, "You two belong together -- Birdie and the Birdman."

"My Native American name is Talks with Animals."

Birdie said, "Cool."

"Whatever," Mark replied with a shrug while wondering if William was all there. He looked back at the field as the teams came out. The game was about to start and he wanted to watch.

Irritated by Mark's attitude, Birdie said, "Mark, I'll explain the game to him. Go play with the rest of your Neanderthal friends."

"Birdie, don't talk bad about my friends. At least I have some that are human."

The girl frowned and was about to retort when William laughed. Shaking his head, he said, "Yes. Blackie was right. You are just like Wrens and Sparrows. You fight and bicker with lots of ruffled feathers, but no real damage."

Mark stared at William for a second and decided the young man was just a bit too strange for his taste. He said, "Maybe she has the right idea. You two belong together."

Fully understanding what Mark thought of him, William laughed at the comment. He said, "I don't know many people here and I'd hate to miss the chance to learn more about life in this town. If you wouldn't mind staying, I'd like you to explain the game to me. Somehow I have a feeling that Birdie doesn't have quite the same feel for the game as you."

Mark looked over at Birdie and smiled. Despite the fact that she was the school's resident kook, she followed the games just as closely as everyone else in town. He said, "Ah, she knows enough about the game. Her brother is Jack Watson, the team's best running back."

"I met Jack the other day when I visited the dojo."

Birdie looked at William for a second. Her brother had been talking about some kid that he'd met earlier that week, but he hadn't said that the guy was a Native American. Although there were lots of things that had impressed Jack, he had been most impressed by his fighting skills and had talked incessantly about them. Like every younger sister, she had tuned him out after just a few minutes and missed all of the other information about William. She said, "Ah, you're the guy my brother has been talking about all week. He said that you are some sort of Kung Fu fighter."

"I guess one could say that," William answered with a smile. It was obvious to him that Birdie had no idea who he was.

Mark looked down at the field as the team captains met in the middle of the field for the coin toss. He said, "Hey, they are about to have the coin toss."

Staring at the actions in the center of the field, William asked, "I thought this was some sort of ball game, not gambling."

Birdie laughed and said, "They are tossing the coin to see who kicks off and what end of the field they want."

"End of the field? They are supposed to stay on different ends of the playing area?"

Mark rolled his eyes at the comment. He couldn't believe that anyone was that ignorant of the game. He asked, "Are you actually an American?"

"Yes, I am," William answered wondering what that had to do with anything.

Birdie laughed and said, "He just means that you seem a little out of touch with some very important elements of American culture."

It required both Birdie and Mark to explain the game to William during the first quarter. Mark would describe the technical aspects of the game while making reference to positions, plays, and strategies. Birdie would translate Mark's explanations into concrete examples of what was occurring on the field. It was interesting how their explanations complemented each other. By the middle of the second quarter, William was able to follow the game without too many questions.

Near the middle of the stands, Vice Principal Jim Means looked around at the crowd with a practiced eye. As much as he enjoyed watching the game, he felt duty bound to watch over the students attending the game. When he spotted William, a sick feeling settled in his stomach. A strange young man talking with some of his students suggested only one thing — drugs. He had worked hard to keep drugs out of his high school and it was time for him to chase away this cancer before it could spread into his school.

Jim stood and headed to the far end of the stands to see what was happening. Much to his surprise, Dave Anderson waved him over to where he was seated. He knew Dave Anderson from the school board. Dave was the current chair and had contributed a significant amount of money for student programs. If Dave wanted to talk to him, he'd take the time to listen. He paused and asked, "What's up Dave?"

"I noticed you where you were heading. Leave the young man alone," Dave said with a gesture in William's direction. He had seen Jim adopt his official Vice Principal posture and had looked around to see what had inspired him to act in that manner. He had been surprised to see that William was the subject of the man's hard gaze. Rather than allow Jim to initiate a useless confrontation, he had acted to save the man.

"You know him?"

"Yes. That is William Redman Carter, the son of John Carter. He's visiting here while finishing his education."

Jim could have been knocked over with a feather. He looked over at William and asked, "That's the son of John Carter?"

"Yes."

Jim was fully aware of the relationship between the Carters and the Andersons. Jack Anderson, Dave's adopted father, had become John Carter's accountant just after John Carter had invented the Fusion Well. He asked, "Did you know that John Carter saved my grandfather's life once?"

Dave chuckled at the comment. John Carter had saved so many people that it was tough to find someone who didn't have a story about the man. His father often told how John had saved his life. Dave had been there, but John's actions hadn't seemed as significant to him as they had been to his father. He answered, "Uncle John saved a lot of people. My mother, my father, and, even if I may be so bold to say, me."

"You say he's here to finish his education. I take it he will be registering for classes soon?"

Dave laughed at the implication that William would be attending high school and said, "He's writing his dissertation. He's finishing his doctorate in economics."

The news shocked the educator. He had always considered going back to college and getting a doctorate in education, but the amount of work had always intimidated him. He asked, "Isn't he kind of young for that?"

"He graduated from the Druid College when he was twelve."

The Vice Principal looked over at William and shook his head. Occasionally there would be some story on the news about a young kid graduating college at an obscenely early age, but he had always discounted those kinds of stories. Shaking his head, he asked, "What can a kid that young know about life?"

"A lot more than you can possibly imagine," Dave answered. He knew enough about William to give that answer. After a moment of thought, he added, "I'll introduce you to him during halftime. You'll see for yourself."