Monday, December 20, 2010

Chapter Twenty-eight


"Well, congratulations, Michael," Mrs. Costello said. "And best of luck to you and your new family."
My eyes darted away from hers. "Thank you."

Chapter Twenty-eight

I thanked Mom again for sharing her story with me and trying to make me feel better. After I ate, showered, and let Mom's breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, and orange juice settle, I rode my ten-speed to school to pick up my diploma. I figured it hadn't been mailed yet.
It was a ten-mile ride. The morning was sunny and warm, like yesterday. Conditioning drills this afternoon would be brutal.
I rode my bike leisurely, staring ahead at the road and traffic, feeling my muscles work, my blood pump. What kind of life would Matt have? Not a bad one, I guessed, growing up on a lake in the wilderness of northern Wisconsin. I imagined he'd grow up with Jodi's interests—biology, ecology, and the environment. He'd be an excellent hunter and fisherman. Like Travis.
Probably a fishing guide, too. Things I'd never done.
Football? Probably not. Unless someone was there to guide him. Like Dad guided me.
Maybe because Matt didn't have a dad, he'd grow up sullen and confused, thinking himself worthless. No one wanted to be his dad. He'd be a troublemaker. Drop out of school. Do drugs. Get busted. Do time. I shook my head, trying to scatter those thoughts.
           
In the office at school, Mrs. Costello handed me my diploma, and I asked her if I could buy the tassel off my cap.
"Costs a dollar," she said.
"Fair enough." I reached for my billfold.
"Where were you graduation night? You received first honors. Not many athletes around here do that."
Mrs. Costello grabbed a box from the ten or twelve stacked along the office wall. Evidently they contained the caps and gowns of other students who hadn't shown up for graduation. She opened the box, plucked the red-and-white tassel off the cap, and handed it to me.
I paid her a buck. "Thanks," I said.
"You didn't tell me where you were."
"Iowa City. I took Jodi to have her baby."
Mrs. Costello eyed me. "Mother, baby, and father are doing fine?"
I didn't know what to say except, "Yes. Fine."
"What did you name him?"
"Matthew," I said. "Thanks for everything, Mrs. Costello. I'm riding my bike. I gotta go."
"Well, congratulations, Michael," Mrs. Costello said. "And best of luck to you and your new family."
My eyes darted away from hers. "Thank you."
Outside in the sunshine, as I straddled my bike and peered up at the sky, I wondered why I didn't tell Mrs. Costello the flat-out truth: Someone else had knocked up Jodi. Not me, Mrs. Costello. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't have a new family at all.

Before conditioning drills in the afternoon on the Falcon practice field, I explained to Coach Flynn about my missing the first session of practice this morning. I told him about Jodi and the baby and how I thought I might be a dad, but I'm probably not. He scowled, scratched his head, and said, "I'm not surprised. Seems like kids these days more than ever are screwing with their futures. Literally."
"It's just something that happened. I can't explain it."
He peered at me in the sunlight. "You got a future in this game, Michael."
"You really think so?"
He nodded. "But there's no sure thing in life. You can blow out a shoulder, knee, or an ankle just like that"—he snapped his fingers—"and you're finished. Football, relationships—there are no sure things."
"I understand."
"Think long and hard about what you want. Because, well, frankly, life's a crap shoot."

With a watchful eye, Coach Flynn put Oz, Honey, and me and five other area guys through stretching, sprinting, and running drills like he wanted to kill us, not get us in shape for a game. Really, buy the time we quit, our tongues were hanging out. We felt hammered.
Later, Oz and I lay on the grassy hill overlooking the Falcons' practice field, resting, tying to catch our breath. Fortunately, a breeze had kicked up. It cooled us and dried off our sweaty bodies. We couldn't get into school to shower because the building was closed. All the summer office people and the custodians go home at four or five. But lying in the grass wasn't too bad.
Hughes had taken off, saying he had to get home, shower, and be to work by six at the Hy-Vee grocery store on Rockingham Road. The others had taken off, too.
Earlier, before I'd even talked to Coach Flynn, the minute Oz saw me, he chewed me out for missing graduation and all of the awesome parties and hot chicks available later on during the night. "You could've gotten anything you wanted," he said. "Or could handle."
I'd already told him about Jodi and the baby. About Matt's having red hair.
Now, lying next to me on the hill, he asked, "You're not thinking of staying involved with this Jodi chick, are you?"
Both of us lay back in the grass with our hands laced behind our heads. I studied a few puffy clouds drifting by in the sky. I thought one of the clouds looked like a baby lying on its back. I mean, I could make out a head and a body. Legs and feet. Seriously. "I don't know what I'm going to do," I said.
"Look, if the baby's yours, sure, you got to do what's right. But there's no way in hell it's going to turn out to be yours, is it?"
"Probably not. Not with that red hair."
"So you do what's good for you. You walk, man. Concentrate on this game. Then you go to Iowa. Become a star. You get your life back. What more can you ask for?"
"I could trade that life for a different one."
"Don't be stupid. You're too young to be a dad. And why would you want to be a dad to somebody else's kid?"
I propped up a knee and crossed my other leg on top of it. "I could still go to college, maybe not play football, but go to college."
"Stop saying that shit, will you? Think of the awesome times we'll have at Iowa. Think of the chicks..."
I don't think I mentioned that after I'd signed my letter of intent with Iowa, the coaches talked to Oz. They studied game films. Saw how quick he is. How willing he is to pancake guys. They were giving him a chance to walk on at Iowa. I'm sure he'd make it. We'd be on the same team again.
"Dump this chick," he said. "You did more for her than most guys would've."
"She really needed someone. You have no idea what labor's like. I don't think either of us could handle it."
"Most guys as soon as they found out she'd hooked up with someone else, they'd have blown her off. You know that's true."
"Probably."
"You know what else? She's been lying all this time. She'd been trying to make you think you're the baby's dad—saying her and this Luke guy used condoms. Which they probably didn't use at all."
"I don't believe that."
"She figured you'd be the easier guy to snare, what with this Luke guy being out to sea someplace."
"I don't think she'd lie about that."
"She didn't tell you she could've gone to school in Wisconsin, did she?"
"No."
"Think about what I'm saying."
"She wouldn't lie like that."
"Maybe she likes you better than the other guy, I'll give her that, but she lied... Just think about it."
I sat up, pulled my knees to my chest, and circled my legs with my arms. "She didn't lie, I know she didn't."
Oz sat up beside me. "Walk away. It's the easiest, smartest thing to do."

Coming Wednesday—Chapter Twenty-nine: Jodi bids Michael a painful goodbye. (Two chapters, an epilogue, and finial thoughts left)