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Authors: Noah James Adams

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BOOK: My Name Is River Blue
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"Personally,
I wouldn't know, ma'am." How could I know? I had no family.

Mrs. Summers suddenly
remembered that I didn't know my parents. She seemed embarrassed and gave me a
hug as she apologized. "I'm sorry, River. That was so thoughtless of me.
Can you forgive me?" All the time she talked, she rubbed her hand up and
down the bare skin of my back, and on one down stroke, her fingers slid briefly
inside the back of my trunks.

"Sure, Mrs.
Summers. I know you didn't mean any harm." I wondered if she meant for her
fingers to rub my ass.

"Well,
you're such a polite young man. I hope you had a good time."

"Yes,
ma'am, I did. It was nice meeting you. You're just as cool as Max and Carlee
said you were."

Mrs. Summers
beamed, and I could have probably borrowed money from her. I was glad when Max's
mom called her away because I wasn't sure I could tolerate much more of my own
sugary crap. If he had heard my conversation, Papa might have told me not to be
so obvious when I was sucking up to an adult, but I could tell that Mrs.
Summers enjoyed it. With more experience, it became my opinion that most people
I met enjoyed flattery even when they knew it was disingenuous.

I only saw
Carlee's father one time that day when he came out of a second floor room of
his house onto a balcony that overlooked the pool. Carlee said the room was his
office and that he was too busy to join the party. The thing I remember most
about the first time I saw him was the way his huge frame filled the doorway of
his office from top to bottom and side to side. I saw both reasons that people
in Bergeron County called the powerful man, "Big Bill." I immediately
wondered if someone with a pair of binoculars could see the gardens from that
balcony because I sure as hell didn't want that huge man to be pissed at me.

***

Not only was
Carlee serious about taking riding lessons at Deer Lake Farm, Tina Woodson, her
pretty African-American friend, suddenly developed an interest in horses when
she learned Ant would be there. A lesson normally took an hour, but the girls
told their mothers that they wanted to learn everything about taking care of
horses, and they needed at least three hours at the farm on Saturdays. It just
so happened that Ant and I would always be there during the girls' visits.

There was plenty
of time for Carlee and me to talk as we held hands and walked trails. I never
tired of listening to her childhood stories, but I had difficulty picking a few
pleasant memories from my past that I could share with her. I think Carlee
sensed my reluctance to discuss my childhood, and she was kind enough not to
pry. We found the perfect spots for private moments of kissing and hugging, but
as difficult as it was to restrain ourselves, we settled for vanilla displays
of affection that limited my anxiety.

Papa kept an eye
on us, but allowed us to feel that we had more privacy than we really did. He
established rules as to where we could go on the farm without an adult and
therefore, controlled our time alone. As if he needed to hear it, Sue, the
farm's riding instructor, gave Papa the same opinion she expressed to me. She figured
that she could charge the girls more if she saddled Ant and me for their
lessons instead of two horses. I took the comment to mean that the girls were
only there because of Ant and me, but when I grew older, I reminded her of what
she had said. Her face reddened, and she admitted to hoping that I would forget
the comment before I was old enough to understand all the possible meanings.

 

CHAPTER
TWELVE

 

On the Monday
following Carlee Summers' party, I began my eighth grade year of school, and it
was the first time that I ever started a school year with friends. It was a
strange feeling to have friends and teammates treat me as one of the gang and
greet me with high-fives when they saw me in the halls. As they promised they
would, our teammates saved Ant and me a seat with them at one of the team's
customary lunch tables in the cafeteria.

Some students
that I hardly knew acted friendly, but only because of my position on the
football team. I knew that if my play on the field failed to live up to peoples'
expectations that the other kids' tolerance of me would vanish. I would again
assume the role of the half-breed state kid that other students avoided, unless
they were whispering, pointing, and snickering at my cheap clothes. Because of
Papa's training, I tried to be polite to all the students, but I would never be
friends with any of them who ridiculed me before I joined the football team.

Ant, Max, and I
hung together at every opportunity, and with their similar outgoing
personalities, they made school more fun for me. Ant and I laughed every day at
Max's stupid jokes and terrible impressions of celebrities, and then Max and I
would grin at Ant's rapping and dancing in the halls between classes. One of
our younger teachers often started her class by allowing Max to tell a new
joke, which was always clean and usually so stupid that we had to laugh.

Max thrived on
attention and approval in a way that I didn't expect from a rich kid. He
enjoyed making people laugh and never hesitated to offer a self-deprecating
joke. There were several times when he asked me if I thought a particular kid
was angry with him, or if I thought he was getting on peoples' nerves with his
jokes. It mattered a great deal to Max that people liked him, and since he was
the most popular boy in school, it surprised me to hear him worry about it.

Most of the classrooms
had desks designed for two students to share, and although both students could
fit, it was almost impossible to keep from knocking elbows and knees with your
desk partner. The teachers allowed us to pick our partners, and they honored
our choices as long as we behaved. There were few problems because none of us
wanted to sit closely all school year with someone we didn't like. I was lucky
to have at least one close friend in each of my classes, so I always shared a
desk with Ant, Max, or Carlee. In study hall, I shared with Carlee. It was a
perfect time for us to talk to each other, which the study hall teacher allowed,
as long as we whispered.

Thursday morning
the football players wore their jerseys to school because there would be a pep
rally during the last period of the day. It was another indication of how
important football was to Harper Springs and another reason for my mounting
nervousness over how I would play. In the hours prior to the rally, I could not
escape students and teachers asking me if I was ready for the game as if the
school building would crumble to the ground if I played poorly.

During my lunch
period, Principal Latham, with his egg-shaped body crammed into a cheap suit,
waddled over to my table, and asked to speak to me privately. Leaving my
curious teammates to eat their lunches, I followed the principal out a nearby
door and onto the quad where he suddenly stopped.

"River, I wanted
to tell you that we're all proud to have you on the team. I watched a couple of
your practices, and I agree with Coach Riddle and Coach Haney that we have
never had an athlete of your caliber on the junior high squad."

"Thank you,
sir." If he could have, the same man would have expelled me back in the
spring for the "restroom incident."

"It's been
years since our junior high team had a winning season, and we can't wait for
the other towns to watch you take us straight to the conference championship. If
you play well, you will make the high school varsity team next year, and I bet
you will get some playing time."

"I'll give
it my best, sir." I wished the man would let me get back to my lunch
before one of the other boys ate it. My teammates weren't shy about finishing another
boy's tray, and a quick trip to the restroom was enough time to make a guy's
food disappear. They all thought it was funnier than I did, but they never
lived in a place where they didn't get enough to eat.

"River, if
there's anything you need, let me know. I know that foster kids don't always
have everything they should. If you need anything like school supplies or even
clothes, just come to me in private. I'll handle it discreetly, and none of the
other students will ever know I helped you."

"Well, sir,
actually..." I decided to play the game and see what happened. First, I
had to look hesitant and a little embarrassed to ask.

"What, River?"
Latham leaned in closer, throwing his arm around me. He had eaten onions
recently. "Don't be shy. Just tell me what you need, son."

"Well, sir,
I only get so much from the state for my clothing allowance, and my foster
parents are running short of funds for me until next month. The thing is I've
outgrown the shoes I'm wearing, and they're all I got. My feet are killing me
by the end of the day."

"Oh, no. We
can't have you playing on sore feet, River. What size do you need?"

"Eleven, medium
width, but if I wear cheap shoes, my toes get messed up. I need a good pair. Maybe
Nikes, if I could have them. If it's not too much, sir."

"I'll take
care of it. We have a little fund for emergencies like that. You stop by my
office after the pep rally." Latham puffed out his chest as if he were
going to save thousands of homeless children in some foreign country.

"Thank you,
sir."

Of course, there
was nothing wrong with my shoes except that they were a cheap brand that I
didn't like. Hal and Jenny would have never let me wear shoes that hurt my feet
and neither would Papa. I just wanted some new Nikes, and I figured that I
would use Latham if it made him feel good to help me. I wondered how easy it
would be to score some clothes or maybe a ten-speed to ride to school instead
of taking the Tolley House minibus.

As I walked back
inside the cafeteria, I wondered about a town full of people whose lives were so
pathetically boring that junior high football could be so important. Football
was such a big deal that if I played the game well, they would temporarily
forgive me for costing them tax money for my care.

***

The pep rally
was a raucous affair, which began with the pep band playing our fight song to a
full school assembly as the football team entered the auditorium and took the
stage. We all stood facing the audience of students, teachers, and other staff and
listened to Principal Latham and Coach Riddle give short speeches. The team
captains, Max Summers, the tailback, and Gary Carson, the middle linebacker, reminded
everyone that our first game of the season was against the defending champion
Batesville Lions at seven o'clock that night. The Lions had finished the
previous season with a record of 7-1 and had beaten Harper Springs by three
touchdowns. Max promised that it was a new season and no one, including the
Lions, would beat us on our home field.

I gave Max my
death stare when my always-exuberant teammate called on me, the team's new
quarterback, to speak to the packed auditorium. Reluctantly, I walked to the
podium amid rousing cheers from all the students and teachers who were anxious
to see if the state kid could lead them to a winning season. I tried to think
of something to say, but I was so nervous that no words came to mind. Seeing me
slowly die at the podium, Max stepped closer. He acted as if he were
interviewing me and gave the impression that we planned it that way.

"So, Mr.
QB, how many touchdowns do you think we'll score?" Max asked.

"Four,"
I answered.

It wasn't too unusual
for a team to score four touchdowns in a junior high school game, so the
applause was polite, but no one was too excited until I added to my prediction.

"In the
first half, that is." I said it as if I were stating a fact.

The auditorium shook
with thunderous applause, foot stomping, and cheers that went on for several
minutes. Afterwards, Carlee and her cheer squad excited the crowd with their
gymnastic moves set to music from the pep band, and then the girls led the
audience in a few cheers until everyone was pumped up and oozing with school
spirit. Principal Latham took control of the rally and dismissed the crowd on a
high note.

It was tradition
that the players walk up the center aisle between teachers and students who
slapped our hands or patted our backs on our way out of the auditorium. Even
Mr. Miller wished me well. I had never been part of anything that excited
people so much, and I thought as enthusiastic as the junior high crowd was, the
high school pep rally would be insane.

When I visited
the principal's office, the man closed the door and pulled a box of new Nikes
out of a shopping bag. He told me to see how they fit and when I tried on the
shoes, my feet would have smiled if they could have. It was rare for me to have
anything new, and I was so excited that I gave Principal Latham a hug, which
surprised both of us. Before I left the office, it occurred to me that Ant's
shoes were getting tight on him, so I mentioned it to the principal, who made a
note. He followed with a comment that didn't surprise me.

"Tell
Antwon to have a good game, and I'll speak with him tomorrow about what he
needs."

On our way home,
I told Ant that if he played well in the game, he could score a pair of new
shoes. The day after our game, he had a new pair of Nikes identical to mine.

***

The Harper
Springs Junior High School Hawks played their home games on the old high school
football field on Thursday nights. Coach Riddle thought that there would be far
more than the usual number of fans in attendance, and knowing that I was one of
the main reasons for the larger than normal crowd made me nervous.

When our team,
led by Carlee and the rest of the cheerleaders, ran out onto the field, I was
shocked to see that there were more than three thousand people in the stands on
the home side of the field. As my team spread out to begin warm-up drills, my stomach
churned with nervousness, and I fought back the urge to hurl. By game time, an
additional one thousand Harper Springs fans that had arrived.

Our team
received the opening kickoff, and after Coach Riddle gave me the first play, I
ran to the huddle and relayed it to my offense. At the line of scrimmage, I
focused more on the fact that every pair of eyes in the stadium were watching
me than I did on executing the play, and I could not have done much worse than
I did. I fumbled the snap from center, and accidently kicked it directly to a
Lions' player who recovered it on our thirty-yard line. The busted play and
turnover was followed by a loud groan from the crowd that I heard as I left the
field with my teammates. I watched helplessly as the Lions used only four plays
to score the first touchdown of the game.

I wanted to run
off the field and hide. I didn't have to wonder what our fans were thinking
because I could still hear their disapproval. They booed when I fumbled, booed
when the Lions scored, and booed when the extra point was good.

Ant and Max stood
quietly beside me and listened to Coach Riddle encourage me.

"River, we
all make mistakes, and that's normal, especially for your first game," he
said. "When you go back out there, try to shut out the crowd and focus on
the play. Remember what I told you in practice. Execute the play and then let
your instincts take over."

"Yes, sir."
I wondered how quickly Coach Riddle would pull me and give the offense to Eric
Mize, my backup. It would be embarrassing, but it might be best for the team.

Coach Riddle
called a sweep where Max would take the ball around the right end. After we
broke the huddle, I stepped up behind center, and the Lions' middle linebacker
came in close enough to talk trash to me across the line. He was one of the
biggest players on their team with one of the biggest mouths.

"Hey, QB. Good
thing you don't have a daddy to come see you fuck up."

I wondered for a
second if he knew me, but then I decided he was just trying to mess with my
head as he would any opposing QB. His words still stung, and he pissed me off
enough that I loudly cursed him. Unfortunately, no official heard the Lions'
player, but one of them heard me. The next sound was the official's whistle
followed by another groan from the crowd when they saw the yellow flag on the
field near where I stood. It was unsportsmanlike conduct in our conference to
curse another player, and I had just cost us a fifteen-yard penalty. I tried to
tell the official that the other guy started it, and he told me to shut up and
play ball or he would toss me from the game.

I saw Coach
Riddle on the sideline. He was pointing to his head, which was his way of
telling me to use my brain. My teammates told me the same thing in our huddle.

Ant spoke up
first. "RB, the best way to shut up them rednecks is to score on 'em."

BOOK: My Name Is River Blue
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