Chapter 24: Contained Grief and Anger

The arrangement my parents worked out was that my dad was going to drop me off at school in the mornings and my mom would be waiting for me at the end of soccer practice in the afternoons. I climbed out of my father's car the next morning and walked dejectedly into school, about five minutes before my first class was to start.

I sat down next to Jake and growled at him.

"Thanks a lot, pal. 'I won't get caught. You can count on me, '" I mimicked him derisively. "I guess I know now what your word is worth," I added disgustedly.

"Look, Sean, I'm really sorry. But we really got caught red-handed. When Jaimie's dad found out about it, he was really pissed, you know? Going on and on about how I stole his daughter's innocence, I could go to jail for rape, all sorts of shit like that. I panicked, okay?"

"That's great to know, Jake. That makes me feel a whole lot better."

"Yeah, well, you at least didn't have to face Mr. Jacks. He was so mad, I didn't think I was going to leave the room alive." He seemed to shiver at the memory. "You know, Jaimie's sister Tara has been spying on us, I think. She may have been the one who ratted on us."

"Why would she do that, Jake?"

"Ah, hell, I don't know. She's really been acting weird lately. Remember the picnic? She hasn't gotten any easier to be around."

"That's just too freaky. Okay, Jake, maybe I can understand why it happened. But that doesn't make my situation any better."

"Yeah, I know. All I can say is that I'm sorry, Sean. I really am."

I quietly told Molly what happened when I saw her at lunch. She was very upset that she was only seconds away from being caught in my room, but that feeling passed very quickly. She got a bright look in her eyes.

"You want to live dangerously, Sean Porter?" she whispered. "I might have another plan to come visit you one of these nights."

I nearly choked on my soda. "Christ, no, Molly! Are you nuts?"

She chuckled. "Maybe I am," she murmured. "Maybe I just am."

True to her word, my mom was there to pick me up after soccer practice. It was a cold, silent ride home, and a cold and silent evening spent in my room, catching up on schoolwork. No radio, no stereo, no noise was allowed during my incarceration. I went to bed early, a little scared that I would hear the door creak open and see Molly standing there. But fortunately, nothing of the kind happened.

The rest of the week was more of the same. I talked to my friends at school, but had no contact with anyone after I got home. It helped that I was trying to work myself into exhaustion during soccer practice. Coach Neville had put a lot of pressure on me as Skip's replacement, and I wanted to do the best I could do. I was messing up a lot during practice, and it was making some of my teammates nervous and a little mad. My attitude was that I could mess up during practice, as long as I played well in the game. My goal was to play well when it counted, and not worry too much about how practices were going.

The only truly bright spot to the week was on Thursday afternoon, when Coach Neville announced to the team that Theo had been brought successfully out of his coma, and was awake and alert. That news cheered everybody up considerably.

Finally it was Friday, game day. This was to be our first game without Skip and Theo, and it was a home game. There was a general announcement at school in the morning, asking the student body to support the team. We were expecting standing room only at the game.

I was sitting in the locker room with my teammates, half listening while Coach was giving us some last-minute instructions. I was nervous as hell.

"Now, remember, people, this team will probably test our right side early on." Coach Neville looked over in my direction. "So, Sean and Kevin, be ready for anything. Sean, you're an unknown quantity to our opponents, so don't be afraid to show them what you're made of. Kevin should be able to head off some of their attacks, and our sweeper and keeper will be watching out, so just go out and play your game."

I nodded, and looked over at Kevin. He was sitting with his head down, lost in his own thoughts. Thinking about Skip and Theo, no doubt.

Finally, it was time to take the field. We trotted out and began our warm-ups. When the starting lineups were announced and my name was called, it still startled me. I was still half expecting Skip to show up and take his accustomed spot on the field.

We took our positions, and the partisan crowd in the stands gave us a standing ovation as the referee blew his whistle to start the game. It was a great show of support for the team, and we appreciated it.

Just as Coach Neville had predicted, the Hamersville Lions did try our right side at the first opportunity. Now that the game was underway, my nervousness was gone and I could see how their plays were designed. I'd been in baseball games when the ball seemed like it was the size of a grapefruit and I couldn't miss hitting it. For me, this game was just like that. The soccer ball looked to be about the size and weight of a basketball, moving in slow motion across the field. I seemed to have plenty of time to get into position to make a play on it without any interference from the Hamersville midfielders or forwards. I was trapping the ball and moving it up at will, dribbling forward or passing it up to Kevin whenever the Lions worked it over into my area. Three times, then four, they deliberately tested our defense on my side. Each time, they were soundly rebuffed. Finally, they gave up on the maneuver and tried our left side. They were no more successful there either, and by the halftime whistle, we were up 2-0.

The first forty-five minutes of the game went by incredibly fast. I was still feeling very energetic, almost hyper. I trotted over to the sidelines with the rest of the team, grabbed a paper cup of water and poured it over my head. I reached for another one to drink. Kevin was there, handing me a cup, a huge smile on his face.

"You're playing great, Sean. I don't think they're going to be trying to get by you anymore this game."

John Pennington chimed in. "That first steal was incredible, Sean. Way to go. I guess I don't have to worry about that side of the field after all, do I?"

"Oh, yes, you do," I said. "It's probably just beginner's luck, so don't go falling asleep on me, okay?"

"All right," said John with a laugh. "You just keep playing the way you're playing though, and we'll be fine back there with nothing to do."

I was jittery with all the adrenaline pumping through me, anxious to get back on the field. I hopped up and down, pacing the sidelines, wishing the whistle would blow soon so I could start running again. I looked down the bench and saw Coach and Trent leaning over a dismayed Eric, both of them talking intently to him at the same time. Eric looked from one to the other, nodding at each of them in turn, a towel over his head and an untouched cup of water in his hand. I didn't notice anything in the first half that should have caused them to be yammering at him. Then again, I was so intent on protecting my own turf that once the ball left my area, I just tracked it down the field instead of paying attention to who was doing what with it.

The ref blew his whistle to start the second half, and we all trotted out to take our positions.

The full forty-five minutes of the second half seemed to move in some sort of dreamlike state. On the one hand, the time flew by so quickly, it seemed like I was out on the field for about seven or eight minutes. On the other hand, it was like everything was moving in slow motion. I had plenty of time to get to the ball, and each time I would pass long, the ball would arc majestically through the crystal air, taking its sweet time to land just where I wanted it to land. It was a magical, very scary evening, full of contained grief and anger. Grief conflicted with awe, being able to play this game contradicting the raw fact of our fallen teammates, sparked a hidden well of anger at Richie Del Toro and his band of rogues. I felt it in me, and I thought I could detect it in my comrades on the pitch. It heightened my senses, throwing me headlong into something resembling a dreamlike state. I rode the feeling throughout the second half, letting my emotions manifest themselves in my play. At the end of it all, in a denouement that was only reluctantly admitted, we won the game by a score of 4-1.

After the game, as I was sitting on the bench with the rest of the team, the adrenal glands finally shut down and out of production. I went into a severe case of the shivers, so bad that I could hardly stand. Eric, Jorge, and Kevin helped me back to the locker rooms and sat me down on a bench. Eric ran out to get my father, who came in to find me almost comatose, shivering and exhausted from the emotions of the game. My dad took one arm, and Eric took the other. They guided me out into the parking lot and into the back seat of my dad's car. Once there, I finally just collapsed and pretty much passed out.

I vaguely remember the car doors slamming, the car starting up, and the tires crunching through the gravel of the back parking lot. My mom and my dad were talking about me on the way home, but it all sounded like a huge hive of bees in the car, buzzing and hovering around my ears. I couldn't make out a word they were saying, and I just didn't have the energy to care as I lay there, mostly unconscious and completely wasted.

The next week was a very strange combination of sadness, euphoria, and grinding boredom. Our tiny local paper had covered the game, and the Metro Times picked up their report on Monday for their High School Sports section. The human-interest side of the story, about our first game after Skip and Theo's accident, was the focus, but they did also have a write-up about the game itself. Eric Johnson was singled out as "the new speedster in the midfield" and praised for scoring a goal on his first start. They also painted an entirely too flattering picture of our defense in general, and Sean Porter specifically, bantering about phrases such as "playing exceptionally well under extraordinary circumstances," and "a surprisingly volatile defensive style," whatever that meant. I thought that, if they had seen me in my dad's car after the game, they probably wouldn't have been so complimentary.

Coach Neville announced to the team that Theo was having difficulty coping with the results of the accident. He suggested that we make an effort to stop by the hospital and visit with him sometime that week to try to cheer him up.