The Field (6 page)

“Are you starting tonight?” Drew just comes right out with it.

“We'll see. Let's hope so.”

“I know you're starting. You're the best.” It's good to be loved.

“Thanks, buddy. Cheer us on, okay? I gotta go.”

I'm by myself as I walk the rest of the way toward the bench. Even though I'm trying not to think about it, I want to start so badly. I feel like my whole soccer career has been leading up to this. When I reach the bench, Coach Swenson calls me over to where he's standing with Brett.
This is it
.

“Okay, guys. Eric is starting in goal tonight, but I want you to understand that the position is still wide open. It's either of yours to win. Got it?” He looks first at me and then at Brett. We nod. “Brett, you warm him up.” He tosses Brett a ball, turns and walks away.

Whoa—I'm starting. Suddenly, I have a big knot in my gut. I mean, I'm totally psyched that I'm starting and I feel like the top of my head is going to pop off from excitement, but I'm also kind of freaked out. The way Coach Swenson just sprang it on me that I'm starting right before the game and that I still have to fight for the spot doesn't give me much time to get my head
around it. I'm also not really sure what to say to Brett. He can't be feeling too hot right now, so I can't really celebrate and I can't say I'm sorry, since I'm not sorry and that would sound stupid anyway, so I don't say anything. And, it's clear that my starting isn't set in stone. I have to prove myself in the game, so I know Brett will be breathing down my back. We put on our gloves and walk together over to the goal in silence. I get positioned in the goal and Brett starts lobbing some easy shots my way. One of the ball boys collects the balls and sends them back to Brett. After a few minutes, he smiles and says, “Are you feeling warmed up now Horton? 'Cause you better be set for what comes next. We want you to be ready for Northbrook,” and then he sends a screamer right at my head. I manage to block the shot, but it's too fast to catch, so the ball drops to the ground at my feet. I pick it up and punt it back to him.

“Hell yeah!” I say, as he sends one into the lower left corner and I dive for it.

T
HE STANDS HAVE
filled up while we were warming up, and the crowd is jamming to the music blasting out of the loudspeakers. It's almost game time. I line up with the other starters and we jog across the center of the field toward the stands. I keep my expression serious, which isn't too hard, since I'm trying to focus, but I have to admit that it feels amazing to be starting. The crowd cheers for us and I scan their faces for someone I know. I see Cole sitting near Will's girlfriend Bonnie and her group of friends and then I look again and see that he's sitting next to Renee.
Why am I not surprised?

My family is sitting at the top of the bleachers, and my dad is standing up and shaking hands with Will's dad. I don't see Will's
mom, which is weird since she comes to all his games, but I tell myself that it doesn't mean anything.

The music stops and the announcer calls out the names and positions of the starters. When he calls out, “Number one, Eric Horton, goalkeeper,” I step forward and wave. Drew and his friends are yelling and jumping around. I sneak a look at Renee. She's clapping and next to her, Cole is whooping and pumping his fist in the air. Then we turn and jog back. Now comes the real stuff. Game time.

Monroe wins the toss, so we have the kick-off. I orient myself in the goal, hoping my routine will help settle my pre-game nerves. Will's also starting. He's in position at center back, so it's our defensive unit, just like we wanted. The ref blows his whistle and the game begins. Our forwards take the ball downfield, making quick, short passes, maneuvering toward Northbrook's goal. The action stays at the other end of the field for a while and then Paul takes a shot … but it's wide left of the goal.

The Northbrook keeper retrieves the ball and takes the goal kick, sending it across the center line into my side of the field. I keep my eyes on the play, ready to move, but Will is right there and passes it to one of our midfielders, who takes it down to the other end again. Then, one of the Northbrook players intercepts a pass, gets possession and starts running toward me with the ball. It's their star striker and he's fast. Really fast. He beats our defenders. Will is running with him, trying to force him wide, to cut the angle, but he's losing ground. It's all on me.
Quick! Think! Come out or hold the line?
I start to come out and then question myself and stop. Hesitate. Now I'm in no-man's land.
Shit!
He's too far away for me to dive at his feet and I'm too far out of the goal to block a shot. He chips the ball over my head. I turn and see it bounce into the goal.
Damn!

I can't believe it. That was mine to save and I totally blew it. The worst thing about being a keeper is that one mistake can mean a goal. You have to act on instinct, without hesitation. The field players make mistakes all the time, but they don't always lead to a goal.

Will is walking toward me. I don't even want to talk to him, I'm so mad. Getting scored on this early in the game is really bad. It sucks the energy from the team. Now we're down one. We have to score twice to win.

“Hey, man, shake it off.” Will catches up to me as I walk back to the goal. “We can do this. You just need to get your head in the game.”

“Yeah. I totally over-thought that one. What a shitty goal.” Even though I did it in practice, I don't like to act mad or upset on the field, because it makes me look weak, so I try to look confident and walk tall back into position.

I get back in the goal and go through my routine. Then I close my eyes for a minute, relax my shoulders, let out my breath and try to empty my head. I visualize making saves like the sports psychology stuff I've been reading. The whistle blows. I'm ready.

Northbrook takes the ball, and high on adrenaline from scoring, they come out charging. Our defenders fight them off, but the ball stays on our side of the field. Now the play is moving closer … a shot is coming,
I know it
. I see the ball zooming towards me, over my head. I jump and reach and just tip the ball up, but instead of going up and over the top of the net, it hits the crossbar and bounces out in front of the goal.
Another shot!
I dive right and block the second shot with my body. It ricochets off me right at the feet of the Northbrook striker. He settles it and shoots … but I'm up on my knees and I lunge left and grab
the ball, pulling it in close. My heart is hammering in my chest. My teammates are yelling. The crowd is screaming.
Three saves!

“Way to go, big guy!” Will yells.

“Awesome save, Eric!” someone else calls out.

I walk slowly to the edge of the penalty box, savoring the moment. I bounce the ball three times and punt it so it arcs high in the sky across the center line to the other end of the field.

We end up winning two to one. Making those three saves in a row really helped pump up our team and deflate Northbrook. I didn't let them score on me again.

Coach Swenson talks to us for a few minutes after the game, and then we grab our gear and walk towards the locker room entrance where the fans are waiting to congratulate us. I texted Renee that I would meet her here after the game and then we would figure out what we wanted to do, so I'm scoping out the crowd looking for her. She's standing over to one side with Cole and Bonnie. As I walk over to them, some of the fans congratulate me on my saves, and I stop and say good-bye to my family. Will has gone over to talk to his dad and I can see that they're arguing.

“Hey,” I say to Renee when I reach them. “Do you mind waiting here a few minutes while I take a quick shower? I thought we could get something to eat in town.”

“Sure,” she says, smiling. My heart does a flip.

“We'll wait here with her,” Cole volunteers. “Then we can all go together.”

“Okay. Maybe.” I really want to be alone with Renee for our first ‘date.' “What's up with Will and his dad?” I nod in their direction. I have a bad feeling about it.

“There's something going on with them, but I don't know what,” Bonnie says, frowning and shaking her head, which
makes her blond curls jump. “Will's really pissed at him.”
Maybe I know
.

“I'll be right back.” The locker room isn't my first choice for personal hygiene since it's pretty gross, but it's all there is, so I shower and change and am back out again within ten minutes. The crowd has thinned out by now and it's getting dark. Renee, Cole and Bonnie are sitting in the grass.

“We were thinking we'd all go to Bub's Burgers,” Cole says.

“Okay, but maybe Renee and I could meet you there.” I look at Renee. “Do you want to walk over? It's not too far.”

“Yes, I'd love to,” she says, getting up and brushing the grass off her shorts.

It's not totally dark yet, more like dusk, but all the street lights are already on in the parking lot. There's an older residential neighborhood between the high school and downtown, and I steer us in that direction instead of the taking the main drag so we can walk through the quieter streets. The buzzing of cicadas rises and falls in a wave of sound all around us, and the smell of freshly mown grass scents the warm night air. We pass a group of kids playing kick the can in the dark. I'm very conscious of Renee beside me. Even though we don't know each other very well, I feel a connection to her.

“So, how do you like living in the States?” I ask.

“I've visited before, but living here is different. Everything is so big! The houses and cars are bigger, the streets are wider and the supermarket is enormous. Even the people are bigger, I mean taller,” she adds quickly.

“Just admit it, you mean fatter,” I laugh.

“No, really, I didn't!” She stops and puts a hand on my arm. I think she's afraid she's offended me.

“It's okay,” I say. “We're pretty well aware of it.”

“Well, some people are fatter, but Americans really are taller. Like you.” She says softly. She's looking up at me. The top of her head barely comes up to my chin. We're almost facing each other stopped on the sidewalk. I look down at her and her eyes meet mine. We stand there for a moment and I get that feeling of
knowing
, like I know her more than I possibly could already, and then my eyes travel down her face to her slightly parted lips. I can't help wondering what it would be like to kiss her. I take a breath and quickly turn away. It's too soon for that. I start walking again and she falls in place beside me.

“It helps to be tall in the goal,” I say to break the spell.

“You were great tonight. Those saves you made in the first half changed the game in our favor.”

“Thanks. You seem to know about soccer.”

“It's extremely popular in Europe, more like a religion. Everyone watches it.”

“Was it hard for you to leave your friends behind to come here?”

“Yes and no. I could have stayed in France and lived with my grandparents, but it's exciting to come here. An adventure. I also wanted to be with my family.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“A younger sister. What about you?”

“A younger brother and a younger sister.” Even going at a slow pace, we've reached the end of the neighborhood. If we cross the street and continue we'll almost be at the restaurant. I'm not ready to join the others yet, so I ask, “Are you hungry or do you want to keep walking?”

“I ate something earlier, so I'm fine. Let's keep walking.”

“Good.” I smile at her and turn right at the corner down another residential street.

“So, where was I in my questioning? I know—what is your favorite thing to do?”

“Am I being interrogated?”

“Yes. Do you mind?”

“No, as long as I get equal time. I would say my favorite thing to do right now is painting and drawing. Last year it was sculpting.”

“So you're an artist. Is that what you'd like to do when you grow up?” I make quotation marks in the air.

“I think so. I'm just not sure what type of art.” We pass under a street lamp and it abruptly goes out.

I surprise myself by saying, “That happens to me a lot.”

“What happens?” she asks.

“You'll probably think this is weird, but street lights and lights in parking garages often go on or off when I go under them.”

“Really?” She looks at me quizzically.

“I've never really told anyone about it because it's hard to explain. I mean, a light going on or off isn't really a big deal, but it happens to me so much that I started noticing it. Kind of strange.” I laugh self-consciously.

“It actually reminds me of a scientist my father knows, although for him it's much worse. My dad says that every time this guy comes into the lab, the instruments start to go haywire and their experiments get messed up.”

“No kidding? That makes what happens to me seem less bizarre. It must make it hard for that guy to do his job.”

“You would think so. My dad says it may have something to do with his energy field. Maybe you have a strong energy field, too.”

“I've wondered if it might be something like that because of the electricity. So, do you know anything about the remote viewing studies your dad is doing? Will and I are thinking about signing up.”

“I've done some of them myself, but not the paired studies. They're pretty interesting. He's found that bonded pairs do better at intuiting what the other partner is thinking or doing than randomly paired subjects, which makes sense. You should come tomorrow. One of his graduate assistants can't be there, so I'm helping my dad.”

“Okay, I'll talk to Will. That would be great.”

We turn a corner and are right down the street from Bub's.