Chapter 14: A Game of cat and mouse

It was a quarter before eight on Saturday morning and I was heading to the sports field to participate in a flag football game. As I looked in my rear view mirror, I caught a glimpse of Shirley climbing the stairs to the apartment. Had she been waiting around the corner until she knew I was leaving?

What a strange situation I found myself in. My attempt to make her life less stressful by putting a stop to Darien's letters had backfired. Instead of being grateful, Shirley had moved out of the apartment and refused to speak to me. Was she even curious as to what took place at the Daugherty residence? If so, she was hiding her curiosity well.

Charlie was the only one who had heard the whole story. I had refused to let Tammy glean information from me because I wanted to tell Shirley what happened first hand. If she wanted to know what happened or if I had managed to retrieve the tapes Darien claimed to have made, she would have to ask me, not send Tammy to find out. I was sure the secret was safe with Charlie.

After one week alone I was getting along all right. The swelling around my eye had gone down and the darkness had all but disappeared. Nights were the worst. I missed reaching over and finding Shirley next to me. I missed her soft touch, her gentle nature and her scent.

Our eight A.M. Accounting class was playing the eight A.M. Calculus class that met across the hall from us. Since our class had sixteen boys and only eight could be on the field at a time Doctor Mercer made frequent substitutions so everyone would get a chance to play, except me. We were in the second half and down by twelve points when he sent me into the game. His instructions were simple, "Since you missed our practice and don't know the plays, just block and try to keep that big guy off our quarterback."

The big guy must have weighed two hundred and fifty pounds and it was evident to me that he had played high school ball. He was tricky quick, too. I saw fear in our quarterback's eyes when he called a pass play, snap-count two.

"I'm going to stop you from getting to our quarterback again, ' I sneered as we lined up and got into our stances.

"Don't use your hands. If you try that I'll break them off."

I heard the count, "One, one hundred, TWO!"

I'd been hit harder in my football career but I was wearing pads at the time. The play was a bust, but it wasn't my fault. The big guy hadn't gotten near our Q.B. The pass looked perfect until it reached the receiver's hands. He dropped the ball at the one-yard line.

We were playing catch-up so we had abandoned the run and every down was a pass play. All that changed was the snap-count.

"What's your name?" I asked the big guy as we crouched into our stances.

"What's it to you?" he asked, a look of determination on his face.

We collided the second the ball was snapped and I did my best to hold him up until he sent me tumbling backward. This time the pass connected and we were only down by six points.

"I told you not to touch me," my opponent shouted at me. "Hey ref, did you see that? He pinched my leg."

There was only one official calling the game and he hadn't seen me squeeze the big guy's inner thigh. It was too big to get my hand round but I found a soft spot that would be sore when he woke up the next morning.

He snarled. "You do that again and you're dead meat!"

"Is your name Bruce? You look like a Bruce," I said as I looked at the sideline to see if I was to come out or stay in for the kickoff. Doctor Mercer sent two substitutions in but motioned for me to stay in the game.

I ran down the field at top speed, veering off when I saw Bruce. He was quick but not fast enough to stop me from getting to the ball carrier. I forgot it was flag-football for a second and almost tackled the kid, diving for the yellow flag sticking out of his back pocket and raising in the air in triumph. The referee spotted the ball at their fifteen-yard line.

I looked again at the sideline and watched Doctor Mercer signal there would be no substitutions. Now I was in my own element. Playing defense was what I lived for.

I stayed on the field the rest of the game and so did Bruce. I didn't try any more dirty tricks but I had him thinking that I might. Nor did I try to rush their quarterback because I knew I couldn't get past him. I managed to frustrate their QB by knocking down three passing attempts. Bruce was frustrated too but when we shook hands at the end of the game, his Calculus class had won by one touchdown.

"Where did you play?" Bruce asked.

"A small military academy called Cromwell. Where did you play?"

"Ogden, Utah and my name's not Bruce. In high school I was known as Maggot," he grinned.

"In high school I was known as Apple but I'm not going to tell you why they called me that."

And that's how I became known as Apple at Pontiac College. From that day on he spread the word, often yelling at the top of his voice, "What do Maggots do to Apples?"

"Maggots eat Apples!" I would yell back. It became a big joke to everyone who heard us but they never found out how we got our nicknames. Shirley was the only one who knew how I became known as Apple and I was sure my secret was safe with her. She may have been angry with me but it was a private anger. She would never share her knowledge of my background with anyone.

My Accounting classmates took the loss badly but Doctor Mercer was upbeat. "We play Advanced Electronic Technology at eight A. M. next week. Be prepared to celebrate after that game."

I looked up at the stands and saw Grace watching me. She smiled and nodded to acknowledge that I had caught her looking at me. Right then I caught movement in the corner of my eye and I had to turn away from Grace to catch Tammy as she leapt into my arms. Charlie was right behind her, extending his hand to congratulate me on the game I had played.

"What was the beef about? Why did their lineman yell at the umpire and point to you?" Tammy asked, making me laugh.

"The official is called a referee. Their lineman was accusing me of pinching his thigh."

"You did it too, didn't you? Charlie said you did things like that all the time at Cromwell."

"He outweighs me by ninety pounds. I had to do something to get his attention, besides, I only did it once."

"I'm changing my opinion of you, Sammy Oldham. Forget what I said about loving you."

I offered to go grocery shopping with her but she said she was taking Charlie, asserting that he was civilized, not like me, a barbarian. Charlie laughed; looking embarrassed but was pleased with Tammy's compliment.

With time on my hands I decided to visit Luke Foster and talk to him about the new orders for more study-tables. I knocked on his workshop door several times but with the machinery running he couldn't hear me. Linda, the oldest child, showed me how to open the door but she didn't go inside. "My daddy doesn't permit me in there without shoes," she explained, pointing to her bare feet.

I patted her on the head and thanked her for coming to my rescue.

Luke was dubious about accepting more orders for the study-tables until I offered to do the finish work. Hell, with Shirley monopolizing the apartment on Saturday mornings I had nothing else to do after flag football.

He showed me his finish room, which was about the size of my clothes closet at home. The room was equipped with spray guns, an exhaust system and a makeshift turntable where the piece being finished was to sit.

"See what I mean? There's no room to do more than one piece at a time," Luke explained.

"You could build on," I suggested.

"The city won't let me. They're already on my ass for being so near the river, pollution you know."

I was already getting a headache from the fumes in the small space. "The customers will have to finish their own desks. If you build them I'll show them what you taught me," I offered.

"If you want to speed up delivery you could do the sanding," Luke suggested, watching closely for my answer.

And that's how I became a wood workman's assistant. What the hell, I couldn't go back to the apartment until Shirley left for work at one P.M. anyway. Luke gave me a pair of safety goggles and showed me how to feed the sanding machine with long pieces of lumber. He went back to what he was doing, gluing cabinet parts together, but he returned often to check on me. At twelve-thirty, when we shut down the equipment and were able to speak in normal tones, he told me I had sanded enough lumber to last him the first two days of the following week. I don't know if he was hinting for me to come back on Tuesday but I told him I would see him next Saturday and left, covered with sawdust.

Like she had done that morning, I waited until I saw Shirley descend the stairs before going into the apartment. I knew it was crazy but if that's the way she wanted it I wasn't going to argue.

Tammy took one look at my sawdust-covered sneakers and told me to go back out on the landing and take them off.

"Yes, Mom," I said as I did as I was told.

"We're going to play tennis," she said as she squeezed past me on the landing. "You are to call Marcie."

"Yes, Mom," I said again, wondering if they were really going to play tennis. They had rackets in their hands but I didn't remember Charlie playing tennis before.

Looking around the kitchen I wondered who was responsible for its condition. In addition to a bowl of fruit on the table, the room looked spotless. I found a fresh stock of sandwich makings in the refrigerator, along with two kinds of salads and a new half-gallon of milk.

As I ate lunch I thought how good it was to have the apartment to myself for a change. Knowing Shirley was downstairs and I couldn't go near her made me sad, but knowing I would be speaking with Marcie soon made me happy. I had missed talking to her for two weeks, first for our trip home and the second time because of my trip to Shirley's home.

Talking with Marcie gave me a real lift. I tried to steer the conversation to what she had been doing, asking if she'd had more dates with the geek, but she was too sharp to fool. She knew something was amiss with us, but she was also too caring to ask what it was. She knew about our trip home. I could tell by the way she talked about K.O. that Shirley had described the little guy in detail. She also knew about our visit to Daniel Olsen and Judge Slocum's homes.

"I hear you were a wild man on the football field this morning. Just like old times, huh?"

How could she know that? Had she spoken to Tammy or did Shirley simply relay what Tammy had told her about the game?

"It's just flag-football. I didn't get to tackle anyone," I laughed.

"I missed talking to you last weekend. Where were you? Shirley didn't say."

Aw, Shit! I was trapped. If Shirley didn't tell Marcy where I was she didn't want her to know. "Did Shirley tell you about my part time job?"

I knew the answer; there was no way Shirley had told her because she didn't know about me sanding lumber that morning.

"No, she didn't. You have a part time job? I don't believe it."

"I'm helping the cabinet maker on Saturday mornings," I said, thinking it was the truth but down deep knowing I was lying to her.

"Sounds neat, I hope he doesn't let you use a saw. Don't cut anything off. There's one of your appendages that I haven't tried, yet."

"Thanks, you're too funny."

"Say, I have a message from Jeannie for you. She wants to ride to the Homecoming game with you and Shirley. She'll ride home with Josh and Mrs. Ford."

"Sure, how does she like school?" I asked, wondering why I hadn't heard from Jeannie directly instead of her asking Marcie if she could ride to the game with us, more specifically me, since Shirley wouldn't be going home with me for the Homecoming game or Alice's wedding.

"She likes it but she's lonesome."

"That's natural. All she has to do is get through this year and Josh will join her next year. I hear Eddie and Celia will be in Boston too so it'll be entirely different."

"Will you call me next Saturday afternoon?"

"Yes, I will. Love ya."

"Love ya too, bye."

Hearing Marcie's familiar voice had been fun but I was relieved when we ended the call without me revealing that Shirley had moved out of the apartment. It was evident that Shirley didn't want Marcie to know about us either, but it was also evident that Marcie had a strong suspicion that something was not right between us. I wondered how long we could maintain the charade.

As time went on and we became accustomed to being split up, it was easier to dodge questions that were nobody else's business.

Shirley and I played our cat and mouse game with minimal involvement of others. Everything fell into place for our schedules to mesh. I don't know what she did with her time, but my little group of friends met and shared pizza every Friday night, I played flag-football and worked for Luke on Saturday mornings, vacating the apartment for Shirley's use.

Our Accounting class ended the season with a three and one record, tied for first place in the eight o'clock division. I played every minute of the last three games and Doctor Mercer began to rely on my football savvy. We had several conversations during my free hour between nine and ten, reviewing the game past and planning for the next game. I found out that he and Grace had been married two years, that she had sacrificed her own doctoral work to move to Pontiac with him and they were hoping to have a baby or two before she returned to school. In a moment of weakness I told him about our split-up. He was very sympathetic, but didn't ask probing questions or try to analyze what went wrong.

I soon discovered that Shirley was better at playing the cat and mouse game than I was. She kept me on edge by doing little things to piss me off and then she would do something thoughtful to make me miss her.

The drama club was putting on a production of the musical, West Side Story. Everyone knew it was a major undertaking and the tickets for both nights sold out fast. As it happened, we attended the same performance.

Charlie drove his car and I sat alone in the backseat. Our seats were three rows from the back of the theater, in the middle of the row. Tammy sat between us and when Julie and Joe, my workout partners, saw me sitting next to Tammy they changed seats with another couple so they could sit next to me.

Tammy is the one who pointed out Shirley sitting two rows in front of us, surrounded by her breakfast group. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. I didn't recognize the kid sitting next to her but she seemed to be well acquainted with him. She leaned over to whisper in his ear, smiled adoringly, leaned over to hear what he was saying and laughed, all before the curtain went up. Did she know I was sitting two rows behind her? Did she know what she was doing to me?

Tammy reached for my hand and smiled at me. Julie, seeing what Tammy had done, reached for my other hand. These acts of kindness kept my mind off of Shirley for a full minute. I suffered through every second of the musical and when it was over I watched Shirley walk out of the theater hand in hand with the kid she had been sitting with.

I retaliated by advertising for an Economics tutor. Shirley had insisted that I take Economics and Sociology, her minors, so she would be there to help me with the two subjects she knew so well. I knew she would either see the ads I placed on the bulletin boards outside both cafeterias or she would hear about them. I guess I wanted her to think I needed help.

I didn't need a tutor. Hell, with Shirley out of my life I had plenty of time to study. I was doing 'A' work and well ahead of the class. My professor heard about the bulletin board advertisement and asked me about it. I was caught without an excuse and told him a version of the truth, that my ex-girlfriend was an Economics minor and I needed a tutor to show her up. He recommended three candidates for the job, unfortunately two of them were male.

I returned the calls to the females who left messages and set up breakfast interviews with three of them in the same cafeteria where Shirley and her breakfast group met.

I didn't hire any of them but I was fairly certain Shirley saw me having breakfast with the three candidates, one of whom I invited to a party being held in my neighborhood on Saturday night.

None of the girls I interviewed were what you would call beautiful or even cute and I picked the least attractive one to take to the party, hoping Shirley would be there and see us together. Well, actually I knew she would be there because I made sure Tammy knew of my plans. Maggie was tall, thin and wore her hair long, all the way down her back. Her glasses were not thick but their style made her look much older than her twenty-one years.