Sunday, December 5, 2010

Chapter Twenty-one


I began to notice strange things happening at school and at home, and I concluded that people don't seem to learn anything from past experiences. They move on to new relationships fearlessly. How dumb is that?

Chapter Twenty-one

That first day back to school after Christmas vacation, I didn't look for Jodi in the halls and the cafeteria. But three days later, after not seeing her anywhere—not even by accident—I began to wonder if she'd stayed in Wisconsin, where she'd spent Christmas with her folks. Had she dropped out of school?
She wouldn't graduate.
She wouldn't let that happen, would she? All because of me. I hoped not.
After I didn't see her for a week, I couldn't stand it any longer, not knowing what was going on, so I stopped in the office. "Um, is Jodi Jackson still in school?" I asked Mrs. Costello. She sat at her desk behind the counter, her fingers racing clickety-click over her computer keyboard. "Um, Mrs. Costello..."
She stopped typing. When she saw who was asking, she pursed her red lips and gave me a rueful look. "Jodi transferred to TAPP, Michael. The Teen Academic Parenting Program. Where all the pregnant girls go. You've heard of that?"
"She wasn't supposed to till the end of the semester."
"Apparently she decided to transfer early."
I nodded.

Very little new snow fell during the last part of January. What had fallen earlier remained a foot deep as winter settled into bright cold days and hard cold nights.
I began to notice strange things happening at school and at home, and I concluded that people don't seem to learn anything from past experiences. They move on to new relationships fearlessly. How dumb is that?
I spotted Oz in the halls at school, walking with Wendy McFarland. They held hands and kissed as they parted to go to different classes. Wendy was a brunette with great boobs and nice legs. Hadn't Oz said he'd rather go to jail than to even think he was falling in love again? Next thing, I saw Bunny Hayes hanging all over him. Then Crystal Davis. Every time I talked to him, he now referred to girls as chicks. When I asked him about all the chicks in his life, he said, "Your problem is, like, right away, you get way too serious about a chick. I got things figured out: Get what you can, then dump 'em before they dump you. Move on. It's the only way. That’s what my sisters do to guys all the time."
"That doesn't sound like you, Oz."
"It's the only way to avoid getting trampled."
"By spring there won't be a girl around here who'll talk to you."
"But I'll be ready for college."
I couldn't believe it. My buddy Oz had turned into a player.
I also spotted Christie holding hands and walking to class with Norman Bixby, academic genius. Hadn't Christie said she hated all men? We were all assholes. Watch out, Norman.
 Mom was seeing Ted Feldman three or four times a week now. Didn't she wonder if he was a workaholic, like Dad, who later on in their relationship wouldn't have time for her?

Oz, Christie, Mrs. Costello—one of those people must have told someone at school that I'd made Jodi pregnant, and that someone must have told someone else who told I don't know who.
Suddenly, I noticed a few kids at school staring at me when they thought I wasn't watching, then looking quickly away. Girls mostly. Once as I rounded a corner in a hallway, I collided with three girls I didn't know. I stammered, "Excuse me. I'm sorry," and stepped aside. The three girls blushed, and as I sidled by, the redhead girl giggled. "That's him. She used to be in my algebra class. Pretty blonde girl. He knocked her up."
After that, I thought everyone I saw in the halls or in the classrooms was staring at me, gossiping. Had I turned into a curiosity?
Hustling out of the gym after weight lifting one Thursday after school, I passed five of my football buddies all huddled around Honey Hughes' locker. I slowed to find out what was up. Before anyone saw me, I heard someone say, "Jodi's her name. Jodi Johnson or something." From a different voice came, "He screwed with her all summer while he was on vacation." A third voice added, "She's at TAPP now. A little blonde thing with curly hair. Looked like she swallowed a watermelon."
I tried to march by them but Hughes spotted me. "Hey, bro," he said. "What's happenin'?"
I shrugged.
"Makin' plans for a nasty party Saturday night. Oz is supposed to call you."
"Thanks. But I'm busy this weekend."
"You sure?"
"Positive."
"Be some cool ladies there..."
"Can't make it," I said, and moved on.
    
I didn't wait for Oz to call me. That night after supper I called him. "You tell anyone about Jodi and me?"
"Did I blab it around school? Hell no. So people know. What's the big deal?"
"I keep hearing people talk."
"What's the big deal?" he asked again.
He was right. What's the big deal? I couldn't expect to keep something like that a secret forever. So I'd made a girl pregnant. Stuff like that happened with high school kids all the time. Like last year, this one guy, Nick DeWitt, had two different girls in school pregnant at the same time. That must have been a record. Everyone was talking about him.
Oz asked, "Someone on your butt?"
"I heard Hughes and some guys talking. I hate it when people talk behind a guy's back."
"You know what you need? You need to party."
"I don't have time this weekend."
"Party Saturday night at Crystal's house. Starts at eight. Bring something to drink. Got lots of food. And plenty of chicks."
"I'm visiting the University of Iowa this weekend."
"Are you kidding?"
"Hell, no. I'll be getting the tour. Talking to the coaches. Seeing where I can fit into their program."
That stopped his party talk. "Good for you man. "Good for you. Ask them if they need a DB? I'll walk on."
"I'll ask, I will. Honest."
"You're going to have it made."
"I hope so. We'll see what happens."

I ended up visiting the Iowa, Michigan, and Nebraska campuses. Finally, in February, I signed a national letter of intent to play college football at the University of Iowa. The Hawkeyes. My dream come true. And I put in a good word for Oz with the defensive back coach. He said he always had a spot for a good DB.
My picture appeared in the Grandview Times, our local newspaper, with an assistant coach from the university and Coach Flynn. I sat between them at a desk in the school library, signing my name. In the story, the university's coach said, "We are proud to sign such a high-caliber young man as Michael Panther to the Iowa program. An all-A student his senior year, a superbly talented running back and kicker—what more could the University of Iowa ask for?"
I felt as if I were sitting alone on top of the world. And that was the problem: I felt so alone I ached. I mean, football was over, I had my scholarship, but concentrating solely on schoolwork was getting old.

During the last week of March, warm gusty winds blew across Iowa. Snow thawed to slush, filling curbsides and potholes with puddles.
I missed Jodi.
I kept wondering about the baby. Was it mine? Or Luke's?
I knew I could be a better father than Luke.
If I had the chance. If I took the chance.

Coming Monday—Chapter Twenty-two: Michael breaks down and calls Jodi.