A game to remember
Coach Ashmere had spent his whole life waiting for this moment, but he still didn’t think he was ready. He wasn’t sure he would ever be prepared.
“Is that it?” A woman who smelled of jasmine and peaches, who had her hair in a bun that proudly presented the touch of salt that was growing on the left side, stood across the counter in front of him.
“Yep. Only the single most important paper in my life.” He held the crisp card stock, memorizing not only each word on it but also the two creases where it had been folded, as well as how thick and smooth the paper itself was.
“Don’t let Marly hear you say that.” She said, smirking into her cup of tea.
“Would you believe me if I told you she probably wouldn’t even argue against it?”
“Yes. Yes, I would. Just like how I wouldn’t argue that her most valued paper was your signed divorce papers.” She walked around the kitchen island to his side and kissed him on the cheek – just under the stronger scent of jasmine, there was still a hint of garlic on her breath that brought a smile to his face, even as she gently pulled the document out of his hands. “And I’m so very happy for you. In many ways. But, now, it is time for breakfast.”
His thumbs rubbed the bottom corners of the paper as she plucked it from him. “And from glory to ruin.” He said with a huff, looking at the ‘meal’ in front of him.
“What? This is a perfect breakfast for someone like you?”
“It’s also the perfect breakfast for a fasting monk.” He looked from the unflavored oatmeal to the unseasoned eggs to the plain yogurt to the turmeric tea and made the disgusted face of a child.
“Look, I do what I can. It’s not my fault you don’t like fish, berries, or melons. But we are going to get that stomach healed, dammit.” She held up her mug and gave him a come-on-you-know-I’m-right face.
With an execrated sigh, he clicked his mug against her, and they shared a moment in each other’s eyes. Before it all came rushing back to him, “Sponsors! National recruits! Coming to scout MY team.” He blinked, not seeing her nor the window or yard, which had grass that was getting tall enough to sway in the lightest breeze beyond her.
“Yes, yes.” She chuckled, “Now use that gall to digest some of that food. You’ll need it. I’m going to go wake up Michel. Remember, you just stopped by this morning.”
“Janet, the boy is thirteen, and he sure as hell isn’t stupid.”
“Yes, but I am his fifty-year-old mother. I can pretend that my boy doesn’t know that I’m dating the coach of the lacrosse team at his school.”
“It’s not my school.” A voice said from the entrance of the kitchen. “Hey, Darron.”
“What’s up, Pal?”
“Not much. Just pretending that it isn’t odd for someone who lives on the other side of town to ‘just happened to show up’; ‘just to say hi.’ While also not noticing that there is only our car parked outside and…”
“Okay. Okay. Thank you for ‘pretending’ not to notice all that.”
“I can go on. I really don’t mind. Like how you’ve been sneaking out every other Saturday night for the last year and ‘just happened to be out and picked up some breakfast from Chick’n Chop the following Sunday morning?”
“Ha. Ha.” She mocked. She was keeping a brave face, but Darron could tell she was genuinely uncomfortable. “Are you ready for school?”
He walked over and flopped into a seat at the table. “Of course. Just going to eat at school.”
“Come on, Pal. You don’t have to do that. Just because I’m not allowed to get joy out of food anymore doesn’t mean you have to eat that slop they serve.” He said, trying to distance himself from the bland food he shoved into his mouth. The bananas in the oatmeal were a pleasant surprise, however.
“Are you kidding me? I got to sleep in for like forty minutes because I don’t eat at home now. You know, teens’ brains continue to produce melatonin until eight in the morning? I’ll never understand the sadist who forces children to go completely against their natural rhythm.”
“Mhm. Well, until you get school to open at ten, I’m going to keep making you get up and go at seven.”
He huffed with a smile and a slow blink of someone who would fall back asleep in an instant. He downed a glass of water, stood back up, and headed to just around the kitchen doorway, hefting a backpack that probably weighed as much as him over his shoulder. “Well, gotta catch the bus. Oh! And congrats, by the way.” He said, looking at Darron. “Do you have any stars you want to show off?”
“Well, I just got rid of my worst player. So, yeah, I can’t wait to show off the whole team. But I have a few I know will shine.” He said with a grin. “Have a good day at school.”
“Thanks, you too.”
“Told you he wasn’t stupid.”
“I know he isn’t!” She said, swatting at him even though she was on the other side of the kitchen watching Michel walk down the sidewalk to his bus stop. “I just… I don’t know. I just worry. It’s only ever been the two of us.” She chewed the pad of her thumb as he stepped into the bus, and it drove off.
“I understand, but you can’t live your life around worrying what might be. It might make both of you feel better if you were just upfront about it.”
She let out a breath, not taking her eyes from the window until the bus turned right at the end of the road. “You’re probably right. And he does really seem to like you.” He walked over and wrapped her in his arms as they both watched out the window.
“More than my own kids ever did at that age, thanks to their mother.”
“Have you tried reaching out to them since the last time?”
“No. I lost track of them both after Taylor turned twenty. Last I knew, she had taken them ‘a state away’.” He shrugged but turned it into a deeper hug. “If they wanted to talk to me, they could find me easier than I could them. Especially once I get my name in the paper.”
She strained her neck to look at him with a scrunched face. “Plan on robbing a bank?”
They chuckled, “No. It’ll be right under ‘Clive Danver traded to major leagues – Coached by the Great Darron Ashmere!”
“The great, eh?” They laughed even more. “Well, ‘the Great,’ we better get a move on, or your other family is going to get to practice before you.” They kissed, and it was better than a buffet full of all his favorite foods.
“You know I love you both equally. But the team was all I had for many years after Marly left.” She gave him another soft kiss.
“I know.” She said with a genuine smile. “I just wish this game wasn’t on the weekend of our second anniversary.”
“I’ll make it up to you. I swear.” They kissed again and shared each other through their eyes.
“Yeah?” Her breath caressed his lips.
“Mhm.”
“That’d be really nice.” She pulled him closer, pushing her fullness against him. “You want to know how you can start?”
“Mhm.”
“By finishing your breakfast and not ordering takeout on your way home tonight.” She kissed his nose and slinked out of his arms. “Remember, if you even get a thing of fries from the Burger Palace, Michel will never pick up a lacrosse stick.”
With a sharp exhale, his head dropped, but his smile never did. “I know the deal.”
*****
“Get a move on! Come on! That’s the best you got! Alright! Alright! I’ve seen enough. Pull it in!” Coach Ashmere stood in the center of his boys and two girls, proud of each one. “Listen up, softies! What do I always say?”
“Practice how you’d play.” “Don’t track the field home, and don’t track home onto the field.” “Always play like it’s the last quarter?” “Dig! Dig! Dig!” “Push! Push! Push!” “Is that all you got!?”
“David Donald Driver is a stupid name, but he is one hell of a player!”
The team all laughed while Ashmere shook his head. “All true, I guess. But not what I was aiming for. Alex?”
The young man, the same age that he had last talked to his son, with golden brown hair that swooped up in the front. He’d never forget that even after removing his helmet at the end of one of their most challenging games in the middle of the rainy season, that swoop still stood strong. The boy had an edge in his eyes, and not just for the game. He was one of the few, at his age, who truly knew what was wrong with the world and wanted to do something about it. “Play like you mean to win the National’s Cup because you never know if there is a scout in the stands.”
There was a collective gasp as forty-one eyes blinked at him expectantly. They were all seniors in high school or older, but right now, they all looked like a bunch of puppies begging for food. This was not only the best bet to get out of this town but the only thing some of them had ever even hoped for. Some more than others. A dream, he knew all too well, that would end in tears for most of them. But he had hope that a few could make it. “I received a letter yesterday. And I can confirm that in three days. At our game. Against our rivals, The Frinkville Frogs…” There was a collective croaking that turned into a throwing-up noise, mocking the other team’s chant. It stopped at a gesture from Coach. “There. Will. Be. Not one.” Eyes twinkled. “Not two…” Their eyes turned to stars. “But three scouts!” The team erupted. He absorbed and relived their excitement because he knew the reality of the disappointment would fall over most of them all too soon.
“Yes.” He answered the distrusting Alex, “I received a letter from a personal friend who has close ties to one of the scouts. It will be two minor league scouts who are ‘dragging along’ their friend who happens to be a scout for… Eh. You guys don’t need to know.” They screamed in disappointment. And as he continued his silence, they started hitting him with their sticks, not hard, but enough to get their aggravation across. “Alright. Alright!” He said through his laughs. “They are bringing their friend, a National scout!” And he shared in their elation, for even he had never had such an opportunity. It wasn’t often that anyone bothered with a ‘fake’ lacrosse league made up of college and high school students who didn’t even meet the third-division requirements. They were lucky enough to get as many ‘scrimmages’ as they did, games that meant nothing to the teams they played but everything to him and his team.
“Okay! Let’s all take a breather.” He gave them a minute to collect themselves before continuing. “Now, I know it’s going to be hard. But don’t let this go to your head. Focus and play as usual. Because what else do I always say?” He answered himself to keep their minds focused. “If you worry you are playing bad, you’re bound to play worse. So! I have some even better news for you.” His grin was all mischief, and they were already groaning before the words came out. “Double practice for the next two days! Before and after school. So get on any schoolwork you might get assigned! You don’t play…”
“Until the papers go away!” They all said in unison.
“Alright, now get out of here and hit the showers! You all stink! Oh, and Clive, if Ms. Sagui gives you any crap over the next few days about ‘being late,’ just tell me. I’ll have a word with her.” The team looked at him like he was a prime ribeye that had turned before you even got to cook it.
“Coach… Ms. S passed. Over a month ago.”
“Oh! Right! I’m sorry. I just… It slipped my mind with everything else. I’m sorry everyone.” He had them take a moment of silence. “Now go on, get some rest, and I’ll see you dark and early in the morning.”
*****
“Alright! Henry, you got the sticks? Jason, the goalie gear? Stacey, what did I say about taking selfies right now? Thank you! Jeramy, that goes for you, too! Clive, please make sure everyone has their goggles and mouthguards. I am not risking a Clid Travers incident. Alex!” He came over with a single gesture, and Coach lowered his voice for a personal conversation. “How you doing? Your mom mentioned your electrolytes were acting up after practice yesterday? You’ve been pushing hard, and we all appreciate that, but you have to be careful with your condition. If you’re laid out in a hospital, it won’t help anyone, much less yourself.”
The boy gave him a half smile and held up a squeeze bottle of some blue drink. “All good, sir. Appreciate the concern but I got my Boost Juice. I’ll be fine.”
“At’ah boy.” Coach clapped him on the shoulder before moving on.
He counted each head as they entered the bus and triple-counted them when they were all in their seats. Everyone was here. “Good! Now, Darral, check the list.”
“Everything is accounted for except for water bottles.”
“Ashley, where are the water bottles?”
“I thought you were getting them? I was responsible for filling and getting the cooler.”
“Beans?”
“Can confirm, sir. You assigned her with the cooler and said you’d get the bottles.”
“Damn!” The bus filled with muffled chuckles. “Alright, no one move!” He hopped out of the bus and ran towards the shed.
Halfway there, he bumped into someone he hadn’t seen before carrying the water bottles. “Filled and ready for you, Coach!”
Coach cocked his head, taking the bottles from them. “Thank you… Do I know you?”
“Oh, probably not. I’m a friend of someone on the team. They texted me asking me to bring these since you forgot them.”
He shook his head, “Classic Darral. Alright. Well, thank you! You coming to the game? Want to ride in the bus with us?”
“Oh no. I mean, yeah, I’ll be at the game, but I’ll just go myself. I wouldn’t want to be held up in the team’s victory afterward.”
“Oh. Thanks for the confidence. Alright, see you there!”
“Enjoy!”
He nodded and ran back to the bus. He had Darrel double-check the list before finally giving the driver the okay to take off. They’d still be arriving forty minutes early, twenty minutes later than he wanted.
He could feel their excitement. Hell, he was excited with them. Not only was this one of the biggest games of their year, but this could and would be a turning point in some of their lives. He had tried his best not to say anything so they wouldn’t get caught up in their own heads and possibly choke, but he couldn’t help it now. “It’s time for a toast!” They all turned to him; some freezing mid-word, others yanking out headphones, some ripped back from whatever land they were in, staring outside the window. “Yes, a toast! I just can’t contain it anymore!” He pulled out the four water bottles and handed off three of them to the people closest to the front. He held his own up as he stood at the front of the moving miniature bus.
“This isn’t going to be much. And I definitely don’t want to get too sappy before the game – it’d only slow you down.” Some giggled, others just shook their heads. “But I am so proud of all of you, and no matter what happens tonight, win, lose, recruited, or have to deal with Charles Pakstan being recruited.” There was a collective booing. “I am proud of and love you all. My girlfriend loves to joke that you all, all my teams through the years, are my ‘second family.’ But she is wrong; don’t tell her I said that. But you are my first family. I’ve loved this game for longer than all you have been alive. And I was in this same situation at your age. And I got to watch one of my best friends disappear into the ranks of the major leagues. But you know what, I’m so happy that I got to stay behind because I can’t imagine anything being able to replace this, my family. So again, no matter what happens tonight, thank you. Thank you all for giving me this… just so much.” He left himself choking up, for he was no longer talking to the people in this bus but had turned the vessel into a time capsule and was talking to all his teams from the past and any team he’d have in the future. He shook it off. “So let’s give it all we’ve got and kick some BUTT!” They all cheered.
He raised the bottle of water as if it were a champagne glass before squeezing it into his mouth like it was the only fresh waterfall in a desert of salt. “Woo!” He tossed the bottle to the next person he could see in line as the four got passed to the back of the bus, each person taking their own swig—except for Alex, who drank out of his own bottle.
Before the bottle got even halfway to the back of the bus, Coach knew something was wrong. “Stop!” Everyone turned and looked at him, unsure of what they were supposed to stop. “STOP!” The kids dropped the bottles on the spot. Coach started swaying. “STTTOOPP!!” The bus driver did a triple take, realizing too late that Coach had meant her. As she pushed through traffic to get off on the right side of the highway, the first of the kids started vomiting. “No…” Coach felt the familiar pain in his stomach amplify as he watched two more of his kids begin to become sick. His vision blurred with strain and pain. “No.” He watched as his main star, sitting next to Alex, began heaving.
“Coach! What do we do?!”
He could only manage one shake of his head before he, too, was overtaken by the sickness. Though his was the only one streaked with red.
*****
Janet sat in the funeral home. It had been days since she had been able to get a full night’s sleep, and even with him in the ground, she still couldn’t believe it. Tears seemed to streak down her face of their own accord now; she hardly even noticed anymore.
“Excuse me.” A tall man with an unflattering goatee stood in front of her. Probably another one of his old kids.
“Yes. This is Darron Ashmere’s funeral. The precession is already over, but he is plot nine-sixty if you’d still like to say a farewell.” She wiped under her chin and dapped at her cheeks, unphased by the stream.
“Do you mind?” The man flopped down on the bench beside her. “I… I, umm, don’t know who you are. And I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but you look like he meant a lot to you.” He took a heavy breath. “Feels so hollow to say this now. But I had been meaning to reach out. Truly. I had even looked up his extension at the school last month… I was just… I was too scared.”
She dapped at her narrowing eyes. “Who are you?”
“I’m Taylor. Taylor, Vinmah. … Taylor Ashmere. Sorry, my mom made me take her name after… everything.” Janet couldn’t breathe the wind blowing into her open mouth. “I… I really hate to do this. But again,” He gestured to her. “It seems he meant a lot to you. Could you… Would you tell me about my dad?”
Janet wept harder than she thought she could. Harder than the day she had had to say goodbye to her Darron.