For the record, if you read through all of my stories there will be at least one you absolutely hate. I know because I hate a few of them myself. Not every idea ends up shining like a star.
My friends tell me that I don't flesh out my characters, my stories are more like outlines, and that I lose interest and just rush to finish the story. They know me so well. And get this: they keep thinking that I want to be a better writer. Silly wabbits. I'm simply trying to keep that dude shrouded in a dark, hooded robe, and carrying a scythe from choosing me next. Those of you who get irritated because Kansas and Arkansas are pronounced differently, just leave now.
This is a story I found while looking for something else. Knowing you wrote something but then having to wade through several hundred unfinished stories is a real pain. Anyways this one seems to incorporate many of my shortcomings so I tried to finish it.
Johnny Nash: "Oh, yes I can make it now the pain is gone. All of the bad feelings have disappeared, here is that rainbow I've been praying for. It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day!"
= = = =
Some people never get the opportunity to live vicariously through their children. I'm one of the lucky ones as my son Doug in playing in college. I worked very hard coaching him and his sister Franny when they were young. Both watched intently while I played in rec level soccer leagues. My weekends were dedicated to their soccer tournaments where both were stars. My weeknights were spent shuttling them to and from practices or on skills and drills at whatever park wasn't being used. They played sports every month of the year but soccer was where they really excelled.
It was also my wife Shay's desire to keep them so preoccupied with sports that the riskier pastimes of life had difficulty creeping in. On the surface that appears to have worked. On the surface. Doug quit soccer before his senior year in high school and has turned down soccer scholarships. Mostly out of rebellion we think. Kind of like a 'Take THAT!' It worked out well enough for him as he became the high-school football team's field goal kicker and occasionally as a punter too.
So how is it that I'm watching Doug play in college? Well Tech thought he had about the strongest leg they'd seen recently so they offered him a football scholarship. The intent for him was to be a field goal kicker but he outperformed the punter so soundly that he secured the spot as their number one punter. As a true freshman. Franny is pissed beyond belief. Doug quits soccer, flips everyone off, and ends up smelling like a rose. Now those Division II schools chasing after Franny are in her rear view mirror. She wants to play at a Division I school just like her brother. Ah, sibling rivalry.
At every Tech home game Shay and I have seats in the section set aside for the parents of the players. What makes it even cooler is that everyone actually sits and watches the game rather than standing up from 'flag fall to that's all'. Another bonus is that the drunk student section is far away. If we wanted, the school could get us tickets to the away games as well. So far we've not done that but are planning on going once or twice.
Our local television station has the contract to broadcast all of the Tech games. I record them to the cloud. When the quarterback throws a touchdown pass, they zoom in on his parents to see their reaction. When the running back zips in for a touchdown, they zoom in on his parents to see their reaction. When the punter kicks an awesome one out inside the five, they cut to commercials. Yeah, well, who can blame them? The parents aren't really a social bunch, especially if your kid is a kicker, so we didn't make many friends in the stands during the first home game. Still, it's a lot of fun.
Whereas my short business trips never really caused me angst, the upcoming product rollout was scheduled for the weekend Tech hosts State. I'd have to miss the game but planned on watching it later in my hotel room. I'd rather be at the stadium but work pays the bills and a punter's scholarship doesn't exactly cover all of the costs.
+ + + +
Shay and I met shortly after graduating from college. Our respective companies sent us to the same seminar. Our first meeting was uneventful.
"Brock Zellman, are you related to Charles Zellman" the attractive brunette spoke after looking at my name tag.
"Well, Shay Wilson, not that I'm aware of. I assume you know him?" looking up from a lingering glance at her boobs and the nearby name tag.
"As a matter of fact. He was a year ahead of me in high school. Just thought that with your unique last name there was a chance" as she smiled.
"Maybe we should have a drink this evening and I'll see if you're related to Ann or Nancy Wilson" as I returned her smile.
"Cute reference. Sure, I'll meet you after the last session in the hotel lobby after visiting the powder room."
Later on, as I stood in the hotel lobby wondering if Shay had pulled a runner on me, one of my work associates started chatting me up. He was really into the last speaker so I pretended to be interested. I caught Shay out of the corner of my eye.
"Sorry to cut you off but my drinking buddy is here."
"No problem Breeze, see you tomorrow."
"Hey Shay, ready to go?"
"Breeze?"
"Yeah combining my first and last names. I've heard it all my life so it's kind of stuck."
"Well Breeze, you offered to buy me a drink. Let's go!"
Corny, but we really got along well that night. A gentle peck on the lips left me wanting much more but that wouldn't happen for several months and after several dates. It was worth the wait.
Not much out of the ordinary about our courtship and marriage. Her parents seemed to like me and mine her. Since the marriage budget was tight it was a small event with about forty people.
We qualified for a starter home about half-way between her office and mine. Two years later we welcomed Doug and not quite two years later Franny came along.
+ + + +
As this was the first and only time I've been married I didn't question that there would be arguments. We could find the stupidest things to bicker about. Not enough money. Not enough time. Should have checked with Shay first. Why am I bothering her with that? We'd go out of our way to piss the other off before the dust from the argument had settled.
To put an end to our abusive behavior towards each other we finally agreed to see a counselor. That seemed to help some, but we have a ways to go.
One Saturday night, after some tussle about what I can't remember, we had my company party to attend. Shay flirted shamelessly and danced inappropriately all evening just trying to get me to make a scene. I watched like a hawk but she always kept pawing hands at length. However there were touches and chaste kisses and embraces. I wasn't going to play her game.
Shay tried to start a fight on the drive home "Some of your salesmen said that you appeared to be getting off on them flirting with me."
"Sometimes bodies are never found. They just disappear. No disputes over custody or alimony."
Her eyes got wide and she shut up. It was frosty at our house for over a week. No apology was ever extended.
What really irked me was the sales staff, in the week after the party, telling me that I wasn't worthy of the hot babe I was married to. One asshole even had the gall to ask if we had an open marriage. A note on my desk suggested that since I was inadequate in the sack I should hand her off each weekend.
+ + + +
On the day that Tech played State, I asked Shay to refrain from telling me how things turned out. I wanted to watch it in my suite enjoying the company paid room service dinner and drinks. To ensure radio silence I powered my cell phone off at game time earlier that afternoon.
The game itself was sloppy, as is the norm for bottom-feeding teams. Doug boomed a few punts. Late in the third quarter Doug punted again but this time some overly aggressive defensive player leveled him in a deliberate cheap shot. Personal foul, roughing the kicker, but Doug stayed down. The players nearby looked panicked and took a knee. A replay showed Doug's leg bending in a way a leg should never be bent. As the Theismann broadcast rule kicked in, they didn't show the replay of his leg breaking. (In 1985 quarterback Joe Theismann was sacked and his leg broken in a very grotesque manner. We all know that as they showed it from several angles about a thousand times. The backlash was immediate and fierce. Broadcasters now shy away from letting you see the gory stuff.)
Backing the video up, I watched the collision several times. No way does Doug play again this season. The cart eventually loaded him up and started his journey to the hospital I assumed. He waved as the crowd cheered. I paused the broadcast and then powered my cell phone on. There were numerous texts and voice mails from friends and family which I waded through. Then I called Shay. She seemed really shook up. Doug was in surgery and she would call me back when she knew more. Checking with the airlines there was no way getting home this evening.
My food was cold and I was already out of beer. What else could go wrong? Never tempt the gods like that. I resumed watching the broadcast. As the cart rolled across the turf they cut to the parents section and showed Shay with tears dripping and her hands over her mouth. She was being consoled by Robert Marks. He's a salesman for my company and was one of the guys who was sniffing around her at that company party. He kissed her on the forehead as he pulled her close to his chest. Why the hell is he sitting in my seat and consoling my wife? The caption on the screen even misidentified them as 'Brock and Shay Zellman'. A six second clip that ended my ignorance and likely my marriage.
My phone buzzed every once in a while. I didn't answer any calls but I listened to the messages. None of them, Shay included, mentioned the six-second clip. Shay's message said that Doug was awake and alert. I called University Hospital and they connected me to Doug.
"What's up dad?" in his usual cheery voice.
"Just saw you get hammered in the game. How bad?"
