This is a long story with a number of chapters; a product of too much unoccupied time during the great pandemic. It could go in any of several genres, but, due to length, it seems most appropriate here. The story takes place in Texas; we have our own language and our own ways of handling things, so be forewarned that it gets rough at times and violent at times. MS Word and I edited, so there is another warning.
Betrayal
The glowering nimbostratus clouds had overtaken the western horizon by the time the yellow dog school bus had made its way down the winding hill to the intersection of Texas 29 and US 281, which marked the halfway point of their trip. Thirty-six basketball players, three coaches, and three student trainers/statisticians were traveling northwest on a three-hour journey on winding roads through the Hill Country to play their final district game, with the outside possibility of the district championship on the line.
The Mustangs were in first place in a tough district with one loss, and Coach Tim Kelly's Cougars and the Bulldogs were tied for second place with two losses each. If the Mustangs won their game tonight, the outcome of the Cougars-Yellowjackets game would not factor into deciding the playoff team from the district.
However, if the Mustangs lost and the Cougars won, the Cougars and Mustangs would have a playoff game to decide the district winner. If the Yellowjackets won and the Mustangs lost, there would be a three-way tie and a coin flip to determine the district rep.
Both teams knew their odds of the Mustangs losing to the team in sixth place were slim, but they were determined to play the game, if possible. The 'if possible' disclaimer was because the Austin TV weathermen had spent the whole week forecasting that rarest of Central Texas weather events - the chance of frozen precipitation! In fact, they said it was POSSIBLE blizzard-like conditions could develop, but everyone scoffed; that (practically) NEVER happened.
The morning forecast said the frozen stuff would not begin in the western Hill Country, where they were headed, until after mid-night, so they were hurrying northwest to get the game in before it started.
If the bad weather arrived per the prediction, it would follow them home without causing icing problems for the bus. Still, weather forecasts involving a powerful Arctic blast meeting warmer, moist Texas air over the Balcones Uplift were tricky, and it had been nearly eight hours since Coach Kelly last heard a weather forecast.
When he called at noon, the Bulldogs' coach had informed him that there had been no change in the forecast, so the games were still on. So, here they were, driving toward a winter storm in a ten-year old school bus with a bad heater, trusting that the weather would hold until they got the games played and got home safely home, probably well after mid-night.
Coach Kelly parked the long bus beside a large convenience store, stood to face the kids, and gave them a cursory reminder about representing their school and families appropriately when in stores. He then told them that the impending bad weather would mean they would not have a chance to eat after the game, so grab some snacks now to tide them over, and eat a burger or something more substantial at the concession stand, after their team played.
The two assistant coaches went inside with the players to ensure proper conduct inside the store, or, actually, to assuage the fears of store personnel that they would be unruly shop lifters. Their well-raised country kids weren't going to do something like that, but it was good practice to keep the store owners and operators happy, so they 'stood guard' by the doors until all the kids were back on the bus.
Coach Kelly stood up, stretched, and walked around to get his circulation going before he drove the remaining ninety minutes to their destination. As he walked around the bus, he visually inspected the tires and looked for dripping fluids. It would not do to have a flat or a mechanical breakdown on this trip, which featured winding roads, steep grades, and narrow lanes with no shoulders to pull off on.
He turned to face their destination to the northwest, and his concern about the weather only increased: the clouds seemed to have gotten darker and closer in the few minutes since he stopped! The rapidity with which the darkening clouds were covering the western horizon caused him to seriously question the predicted timing of the winter storm's arrival.
He wished he had one of the new-fangled 'mobile phones' Martin Cooper had invented a few years before, but none of the telecommunication giants thought they would be profitable enough to begin setting up the expansive and expensive networks needed to make them more than a pipe dream. Tim disagreed, and knew he would buy stock in the first company that took a chance, but so far no one was willing to venture beyond discussion. Maybe he should invite those executives to ride along with him on some of these trips so they could better understand the need, at least out here in the boonies.
The players, trainers, and coaches were filtering back out of the store, so he hustled inside and used the restroom. On the way out, he stopped to tell the cashiers how much the team appreciated their hospitality, and was ardently thanked for the impeccable conduct of their courteous kids.
The store manager enthused, "It's always great when your buses stop here, Coach. You can tell the parents have raised these kids right, and you coaches make sure they represent your school properly!" Tim assured them the team would be stopping there again on the way home after the games, and he would pass along the compliments to the kids and parents.
Feeling buoyed, Coach Kelly walked jauntily out the doors, where he was confronted by a pair of uniformed Sheriff's deputies. Feeling the eyes of the thirty-nine youngsters and two coaches in the bus glued to him, he stopped and greeted the LEOs warmly.
The larger one spoke up, "Coach, we just got a call from your transportation director. The cold front is moving faster and is stronger than expected, so the games have been postponed. You are to return immediately, and make sure the kids all get with their parents safely. No one is saying it yet, but based on reports we are getting from law enforcement to the west, it will be bad storm, and it will get here around 10-11 pm, not 3 or 4 am. Best get moving, coach!"
"Can we follow you back to the Sheriff's office and use the phone to make a few calls so we won't be sitting there in the cold waiting for parents?" he asked. "We have a phone tree, so only one player from each team -- freshman, JV, and varsity - will need to call. It would be a huge help to us!"
The deputies replied that would be fine; in fact, it didn't matter how many calls were made -- just get all the kids home before the high winds, freezing rain, sleet, and snow hits in a few hours.
After the calls were made to parents to initiate the phone tree, Tim called the bus barn and told the transportation director they were headed back, and then thanked the deputies again.
There was a lot of nervous, excited chatter on the way back as the teenagers overcame the disappointment of not playing, began considering the possibilities if it snowed, and planned their activities for the unexpected Friday night without obligations.
Even though the phone tree worked, two girls and a boy needed rides to a new subdivision on Lake Travis because their parents were in Austin and would not be home until later. No one else was headed that way, so Tim loaded them in his double-cab pickup and made the forty-mile round trip.
