Jimmy (50 page)

Suddenly, the players started wanting drinks. Jimmy scrambled to keep cups on the table. Players dropped empty cups on the ground, but Jimmy was too busy to write down their jersey numbers. As quickly as they'd come, the players left and began walking toward the locker room. Jimmy started gathering up trash.

“Hey, son!” Mama called out. “You're doing a great job!”

Mama and Daddy were on the bottom row of the stands leaning against the railing. Jimmy looked up and waved.

“Yes, he is,” Coach Bolton added as he walked past Jimmy and patted him on the back. “It's a good thing we took your advice and let Max Cochran throw the football.”

“Yes, sir.”

Coach Bolton waved toward Daddy and continued toward the locker room.

“We'll wait for you near the concession stand,” Daddy said to Jimmy.

“Yes, sir.”

By the time he finished cleaning up, Jimmy was the last person on the sidelines. The fans had moved from the stadium to the parking lot, which was a sea of red taillights. A lot of drivers were honking their car horns. Jimmy could hear victory shouts from students hanging out car windows. When the last piece of paper and scrap of tape had been collected, Jimmy dragged the trash bags to a large trash container behind the visitor stands. He heaved the bags into the container.

Someone turned off the field lights as he began walking toward the Cattaloochie side of the stadium. It was dark as he trudged toward the locker room. More sounds of victory reached his ears when he pulled open the locker room doors. Inside, most of the players were putting on street clothes. Max, a huge smile on his face, was receiving congratulations from everyone who passed by. Jimmy started toward him, but several players cut him off.

“Mitchell!” Coach Bolton called out. “Gather up the game balls and put them in the storage room. When you finish, put all the supplies back in the training closet.”

Six weeks before, Jimmy would have been overwhelmed by such an order. Now he didn't give it a second thought. It took three trips to retrieve the balls from various corners of the room and put them in a mesh bin in the storage room. Collecting the training supplies took longer, and by the time he finished, the locker room was almost empty. Coach Bolton came out of his office with a small bag of trash.

“Take this to the trash bin. There's food it in that will smell if I don't get it out of here tonight.”

“It's dark, and the lights are off,” Jimmy said.

“Your eyes will adjust.”

The coach dropped the bag in front of Jimmy and didn't wait for a reply. Jimmy picked it up and retraced his steps down the hill and across the dark field. Most of the cars had left the parking lot, and Jimmy could see the stars. The bag of trash swished against Jimmy's leg as he walked. He reached the opposite side of the field and went behind the stands. The aluminum stands hid the sky, and the space beneath them was dark and shadowy. The trash container loomed as a long black shape before him. The bag was small enough that he could push it through an opening in the side. He turned to go.

“Stop,” he heard a voice say.

Jimmy froze.

“I need to count it,” the voice continued.

Jimmy moved closer to the container. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from.

“It's all there. It's your job to split it up.”

“I thought there was going to be another five hundred.”

“Your money is there. We don't think Sharpton deserves anything.”

“That wasn't the deal.”

“Do you want to give it back?”

“No.”

“There is a lot more where that came from if you're willing to cooperate.”

“I'm listening.”

Jimmy inched around the container and looked up. Two figures were sitting in the stands directly above him. Their legs blocked his view of the sky. Wanting to avoid whoever it was, he stepped behind the container and walked around the back of the stands to the other end of the field. He crossed the end-zone area. Suddenly, the lights for the stadium came back on. The glare caused him to stop and put his hand against the goalpost.

“Mitchell!” a voice called out.

Jimmy looked but couldn't see anyone.

“Over here!” the voice said.

Jimmy looked toward the Cattaloochie side of the field. Coach Bolton was standing at the top of the stadium waving his arms. Daddy was beside him.

“Come on!” the coach yelled.

Jimmy ran toward them. Daddy walked down the steps and met him on the field.

“Coach Bolton turned on the lights because we were concerned that you'd gotten lost in the dark.”

“No, sir.”

“Let's go. Everybody has left the stadium, and your mama was worried about you.”

Mama gave Jimmy a hug when he appeared. Together with Daddy, they headed toward the parking lot.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“Throwing away trash for Coach Bolton.”

“He shouldn't have sent you out in the dark.”

In the car, Mama talked nonstop about the game. She'd sat next to Mrs. Cochran and enjoyed her reaction to Max's heroics on the field.

“I think it's wonderful that Max won the game.”

“It's a team sport,” Daddy said. “He couldn't have done it if Jimmy hadn't given him plenty to drink.”

“That's right,” Mama agreed. “You're doing a great job as a manager.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

After he took a shower and put on his pajamas, Jimmy lay in bed and waited for Mama to come into his room and pray with him. She sat on the edge of his bed.

“Mama,” he said, “I think the snake man was at the game tonight.”

“Why do you say that?”

Jimmy told her what he'd heard in the stands. Mama listened closely, a concerned look on her face.

“Did they know you were listening?” she asked.

“No, ma'am. You told me not to talk to anyone about it, so I walked around the back of the stands to the other end of the field.”

Mama stroked his cheek. “That's good. Don't go to sleep yet. I want your daddy to hear this.”

Mama left and returned with Daddy.

“Tell him what you told me,” Mama said.

Jimmy repeated the conversation.

“Something illegal is happening,” Daddy said soberly. “And whoever is doing this has recruited Sharpton, Gambrell, and possibly others.”

“What are you going to do?” Mama asked Daddy.

“I'll
have a talk with Detective Stephens. He's over all narcotics investigations for the sheriff's department. I wouldn't be surprised if he has a system of informers at the high school who can fill in the blanks.”

“Will Hal and Pete get into trouble?” Jimmy asked.

“Maybe, but that's not your problem,” Daddy said. “The important thing for you is not to tell anyone about the conversation at the football field. No matter what happens, keep your mouth shut. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

Mama looked at Daddy anxiously.

“I think we should reconsider the private school in Carroll County. Jimmy could let something slip by mistake, and there's no telling what might happen.”

“Private school?” Jimmy asked. “What's that?”

“A very nice, small school,” Mama answered, resuming her seat on the edge of his bed. “It doesn't have all the problems of a big school like Cattaloochie County High. Your daddy and I have talked about sending you there for a couple of years. I visited, and they have a lot of nice students and teachers. You would be in regular classes and get extra help when you needed it.”

“A different school?” Jimmy asked.

“Ellen, let's have this conversation downstairs,” Daddy said. “We shouldn't drag Jimmy into it until we've made up our minds.”

“What about my job as manager of the football team?” Jimmy asked as understanding of Mama's suggestion dawned. “And Max? And my teachers?”

“You would have new teachers, and we'd help you find activities besides managing the football team,” Mama said. “You'd still be able to see Max on the weekends.”

“Enough,” Daddy said. “Go to sleep. On Monday you're going back to Cattaloochie. Don't worry about a new school.”

Mama and Daddy left the room, but Jimmy lay awake.

Worrying.

—
Thirty-four
—

N
o one mentioned the private school during the following week. Jimmy started to bring it up at supper but decided that not saying anything might keep it from happening. The thought of leaving the people he'd known since kindergarten upset him.

Football practice settled into a routine. Brian Brown worked with the first-team offense, but Max also got in a few snaps. Friday's game was against Parker High School, a new school on the outskirts of Atlanta.

During football practice, Jimmy didn't have any direct contact with Pete or Brian, and he remembered Daddy's command to keep his mouth shut. Each night, Daddy asked if the subject of the postgame conversation had come up at school, and Jimmy truthfully told him no.

Friday night came, and the Captains easily defeated Parker High. After the Dake County game, most people thought the next game would be much closer. Max dressed out for the game but didn't play. Brian performed well and didn't make any serious mistakes. Pete rushed for over 150 yards. Jimmy did everything asked of him as a manager.

During the ride home from the stadium, Mama said, “Don't forget to feed the cats tomorrow. I did it this afternoon, but you agreed to help Delores, and it's your responsibility.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Jimmy answered with little enthusiasm in his voice.

“Would you like to ride your bike to her house?” Mama asked.

“Yes, ma'am,” he responded more brightly.

Saturday morning dawned with a hint of fall in the air that tickled Jimmy's nose as he went outside to check on Buster. Football practice had cut Jimmy's time with the dog, and Buster jumped around excitedly when Jimmy entered the backyard. Jimmy threw a ball a few times and laughed as Buster overran it and rolled over in a heap.

“I have to take care of Otto, Maureen, and Celine,” Jimmy said as he moved toward the gate. “I'll let them rub against me, and when I come home, you can smell my blue jeans as long as you want to.”

Mama and Daddy were drinking coffee in the kitchen.

“Sorry I didn't fix breakfast, sunshine,” Mama said.

“I ate cereal,” Jimmy replied.

“I'll fix meat loaf in the pan for supper,” Mama said.

Jimmy grinned. “I bet the cats wish they could eat meat loaf, but I think I'll give them liver dinners.”

Daddy reached into his pocket.

“Here's the key to Delores's house. Make sure you don't lose it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you know how to get there?” Mama asked.

“Yes, ma'am. I ride past Grandpa and Grandma's street—” Jimmy stopped. A wave of sadness suddenly washed over him. “Should I still call it that?”

“Yes,” Mama replied quietly. “You can always call it that.”

Jimmy sighed. “After I pass their street, then I go through two stop signs. The cats live in a yellow house on the right side of the road.”

“Excellent,” Daddy said. “Be careful. Lock the door after you finish.”

Jimmy's bike, repaired after the wreck, was in good shape. Mama came outside onto the porch to see him off. Jimmy, his Ready Kilowatt cap on his head, honked twice and waved as he turned down the sidewalk.

He wasn't afraid of the familiar streets. Every dip in the sidewalk, each tree along the roadway, every house was a known landmark, but he missed Buster padding alongside him. He passed Ridgeview Drive. He'd not climbed the pole since Grandpa died.

“One,” he said when he came to the first stop sign and honked his horn once.

He continued another block. A white pickup truck passed him on the road.

“Two,” he said when he came to the second stop sign and honked his horn twice.

He rode about fifty yards before reaching the yellow house. He parked his bike in the carport and walked to the front door. Looking in the narrow sidelight window beside the door, he could see the cats milling around in the foyer. He put the key in the lock, turned it, and pushed against the door. It didn't move. He stared at the key. Maybe he should go home and get Mama to help him. Deciding to try again, he put the key back into the lock. Turning it in the opposite direction, he heard a
click,
and the door opened. The mewing cats greeted him.

“Hello, cats,” he said. “Would you like a liver dinner?”

The mewing chorus followed him into the kitchen. Delores hadn't kept the dinners organized, and it took a minute to find a large can of liver. He fixed the cats' food, carefully spooning out equal portions for each one. The litter box was dirty, and he took it to the back door. When he opened the door, he thought he heard the sound of the back gate closing. Glancing to the left, he didn't see anything.

By the time he dumped the litter in the garbage can and returned to the kitchen, the cats had finished eating and were ready to go outside. They scampered past him. He put clean litter in the box. It would take several minutes to reorganize the cat's food pantry. He heard a scratching sound at the back door. He turned around, expecting to see Otto, Maureen, or Celine wanting to get back inside.

Instead, he saw Jake Garner.

As soon as their eyes met, Jake threw open the door and rushed into the kitchen. Jimmy threw up his hands in front of him. Jake was wearing white gloves. He grabbed Jimmy's wrists and spun him around.

“Stop!” Jimmy cried out. “Don't
hurt me!”

Jake wrapped something sticky around Jimmy's wrists and stuffed a cloth in his mouth. Jimmy forced the cloth out of his mouth with his tongue.

“Help!” he yelled. “Stop!”

Jake stuck the cloth in Jimmy's mouth and held it in place with his hand. Jimmy turned his head to the side and looked down. Staring at him was the head of the snake that coiled around Jake's arm. Its head and mouth were huge, much too large for the snake's body, and long fangs hung from its upper lip. Dark blue drops of venom dripped from the fangs.