Chapter 18: Truthful Paula

Suzanne drove me back to school on Sunday afternoon. "Are you looking at my legs Sammy?" She asked, breaking my concentration. My head popped up and I saw that she was grinning at me.

"I was just ... do you always drive this fast?"

"Oh, were you checking the accelerator? I thought you were admiring my legs." Suzanne knew she was embarrassing me but she didn't let up. "Does my driving frighten you?"

She was taking corners at high speeds and passing everything on the road. I sat back and tried to relax. "I couldn't see much. You're wearing slacks," I said, trying to defend myself for sneaking a peek at her legs.

"Hey Mister, a finely turned ankle is something to behold. In the olden days when women wore long skirts with hoops young men treasured a mere glimpse of an ankle. Imagining what was under the skirt was just as entertaining as seeing a female in a bikini is today. Imagination is a wonderful tool Sammy."

"I wasn't looking at your legs," I said, not seeing her point.

"I know, you were looking at my ankle and imagining what it is attached to."

"No, I wasn't. I was watching you push the accelerator down and wondering if you always drive this fast," I repeated.

"You've seen me in swimwear. I don't know why you need to imagine what my legs look like."

I looked over at her and saw the curl in her upper lip, like she was suppressing a smile. The laughing eyes told me she was teasing me. "It's been two or three weeks since I saw them. Sometimes I have to use my imagination to remember how nice they look," I said, trying to make my voice sound mysterious.

"Sammy, I'm flattered by your comment about my legs, but you should pay more attention to girls your own age. I'm old enough to be your mother." She sounded serious and for a minute I thought she had misunderstood my attempt to put her in her place as some fantasy I had for her. I was thinking of how I could modify my praise for her legs when her eyes told me she was still teasing me. We laughed together and talked about other things, which subjects I liked best, our school's next game with Sinclair and how the weather was changing. Suzanne was not the person I wanted to talk to about my dilemma with Paula although she did broach the subject. "I don't know what you're doing with that girl but whatever it is, keep it up. It's good for John's imagination. I suppose you know he lives vicariously through you?"

She passed every other car and truck on the road, and we arrived at school in record time.

"My, these are impressive grounds," Suzanne remarked as we drove up the winding drive to the school's main building. Several other cars were dropping guys off. Suzanne got out of the car and walked around to say goodbye. "Will the other boys think I'm your mother if I kiss you?" I knew she was teasing me again and I didn't think she was serious about actually doing it until she bent down and planted a kiss on my cheek.

The kiss made me so flustered that I almost forgot to retrieve my clean laundry and the box of energy bars out of the car's trunk. "They'll wish they had a mother like you," I said as we parted. It was gratifying to see her face redden as she got back into her car.

Sunday evening formations were usually short, just long enough to report that we were 'all present or accounted for.' Those 'accounted for, ' were stragglers who had called in, saying they had been caught in traffic or giving some other weak excuse for arriving back to school late. On this day Colonel Travis had a special announcement. Sinclair High School had agreed to host a second game at their field on Friday afternoon. Our Junior Varsity team would play their scrubs. Col. Travis went on to say that, since our J.V. squad only had forty-one players, four freshmen would be chosen to round out the squad at forty-five, the same number that dressed for varsity games.

I had a hard time suppressing my excitement on the way back to the room. I suppose every freshman kid expected to be picked, but I was confident that I would be one of the four. I couldn't wait until practice the following day when the coaches would call out my name.

We were all excited about the announcement, especially Jarvis and Craig. They weren't thinking about which four freshmen would be chosen to join the J.V. But the next night after dinner, when the J.V. was told to remain seated along with the Varsity, there were five of us from Room 3 C at our table. Only Dale and Charlie were excused.

We watched the Oakdale vs. Sinclair game film that Ned had made. I had watched it twice before when we were going to play Oakdale the following week. This time I looked at it from a totally different prospective, concentrating on the Sinclair plays and players. The coaches talked us through the film, stopping periodically to point out some of Sinclair's schemes and which of their players were most dangerous. We were told the film would be broken down for the Tuesday evening viewing.

Practicing with the J.V. was a new experience for me. They were a lot more experienced than my freshmen classmates, also bigger. Some of them held my aggressive play in our game the previous Friday against me. Ellis, in particular, goaded me with demeaning remarks, saying that if I got into the game the Sinclair players wouldn't put up with my style of play like he had done. By Wednesday it had been made clear to me that I would not be playing much, if at all. The coaches let me serve as protection for the ball carrier on punt returns, but that assignment was only a backup role. Only the Varsity was told to remain seated at the end of dinner that night. The rest of us returned to our rooms to study.

The Varsity rode to the game on the school bus. The rest of us had to find a ride with parents. Ned drove Russell, Charlie and I to Sinclair, but I didn't get a chance to talk to him with the other guys in the car. We stopped at a small café and had a sandwich because it was going to be a long time before we would be able to eat again. Our game was to start a 5:30 p.m. and end at 7:45 p.m. regardless of time left on the clock. The varsity game was scheduled to commence at 8 p.m. Sinclair and Bernville were the only Schools we played that had lighted fields, but Bernville was coming to our school this year so this was the only time we would play under lights.

The J.V. uniforms were much newer than the jersey I had worn the previous week. I was given number 59, a number I would wear throughout my high school football career. With the J.V. and varsity sharing the visitor's locker room space was in short supply. Russell and I had to share a locker. We dressed and took the field at a few minutes past five PM. The stands looked nearly empty but parents and students from both schools were drifting in. I guess they had all stopped on the way to have something to eat, probably a lot more than Ned allowed us to have. He promised that we would stop for a big meal after the varsity game.

I looked for Ned in the stands. He was sitting with Russell Bertram Junior and some other men that looked to be about his age. I waved to Charlie and his mother and was looking for Paula when a football hit me in the back. I turned to see Ellis laughing and pointing at me. It had to be him that threw the ball. I was picking up the ball when I heard Russell. "Forget it," he warned. He was right; I just smiled at Ellis, sure that he would have loved for me to retaliate and get punished for it.

After our warm-up exercises the coaches called us into a huddle where Mr. Krown gave a last minute pep talk. It was a large huddle and I only heard parts of what he said. It was mainly stuff he said every day at practice. "Play with pride. Play with honor. Play to win!"

We won the coin toss and elected to receive the ball. Our offense carried the ball over thirty yards on the ground before attempting the first pass. An errant throw bounced off the hands of its intended receiver and two defenders before being caught by a very fast defensive back that evaded all eleven of our players. At three minutes into the game we were down by six points, which quieted everyone on our side of the field. Even our band sat still, as if they were paralyzed.

And then the most devastating thing that could happen, happened. The Sinclair band played Waltzing Matilda. Our coaches tried to settle us down and regroup but our mood was such, that if it had not been for their kicker missing the extra point, I believe we would have crossed the field and stuffed some instruments down their players' throats. Waltzing Matilda was Dearborn's song. When they played it to humiliate us it had a meaning; it had tradition, which we had spent a week learning after our loss to Dearborn Military Academy. The Sinclair band had stolen it; they didn't play it very well either.

At five minutes into the game we were down by six points and our bench was in turmoil. We took a five-yard penalty for delay of game when we couldn't get eleven defensive players on the field in time to accept the next kickoff. At halftime the score was 19 to nothing and I had not played. Mr. Krown spoke quietly. His speech had a calming affect until the end when he raised his voice to say, "I don't want to hear Waltzing Matilda played again, EVER!" But we did hear it, twice.

Mid-way into the third quarter Russell and I got into the game. He played better than me but we both got some licks of revenge in. Russell got to their quarterback and I was right behind him. The coaches must have liked the way we played together because they let us finish the game, him at defensive end, and me at linebacker. The final score was thirty-one to six.

The locker room was a quiet place after the game. The loss was depressing but I was secretly elated because I had gotten to play and had played well. We found Ned and Russell's uncle in the stands and watched the varsity game with them. Ned called the older Russell Junior. We had a great time anticipating which plays our guys would run and who would be substituted in certain situations. The varsity teams matched up well. The game ended in a tie, eighteen to eighteen. Neither extra-point kicker could find the uprights.

The time was nearing eleven PM when we left the stadium. We found a local restaurant that served breakfast at any hour. The place was crowded but the wait to be seated gave us time to decide what we wanted to eat. We both ordered the largest breakfast on the menu and when Russell suggested a side order of pancakes I ordered the same. Ned and Junior consoled us about our loss, pointing out that Sinclair's student enrollment was considerably greater than ours. They outnumbered us two to one, over six hundred to Cromwell and Speedwell's combined population of three hundred and ten students. The fact that our varsity played them even was proof that our football program was superior.

I was quiet on the ride home; basking in the thrill of playing under the lights in front of thousands of spectators. I didn't want to spoil it by talking to Ned about my predicament with Paula. I didn't want to think about it. He said that Mr. Oldham had noticed how I was growing out of my clothes and had plans to take me shopping on Saturday morning. I reminded him about my dance lesson with Alice. "Okay, we'll go after your lesson," he said.

I had to object again. "What if she wants to play tennis? There won't be many more tennis days and I wouldn't want to miss playing."

He threatened to have Penelope or Suzanne take me shopping if I could fit it into my schedule. As it turned out, we had to put it off until the following week because we both got busy with other things. He must have known that I wasn't about to let Penelope or Suzanne take me shopping for clothes.