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Bird On The Field book cover

Bird On The Field
Book Eight of the New Spearfish Lake Series
Book Two of the Bird Sub-Series

Wes Boyd
©2010, ©2015




Chapter 25

Brandy hung up the phone while thinking hard. Boy, that got around quick, she thought, and it was a little surprising that it jumped from the teenage gossips to the adults that quickly. She didn’t know Ashley all that well, but knew that she was basically a good kid and a hard worker down at the Frostee Freeze. What’s more, she appeared to be loyal, and genuinely wanted to warn her of a possible problem. Having a contact like her among the kids could be worth its weight in gold, she realized, but it was probably better to not try and overuse it or Ashley could get a reputation as a snitch.

She was a little surprised that George Battle had come up with the idea for the assistant coaches to resign in protest – she’d expected that Weilfahrt would come up with it himself, but maybe he had thought of it and that fact hadn’t survived the gossip circuit. Either way, it was about what she’d been hoping for. She hadn’t really been all that enthusiastic about firing them, even though it was clear that they had to go – they weren’t that good and they’d had their ears too filled with the kind of crap that Weilfahrt had put out. It was better if they would resign and get egg on their faces in the process. She was aware that the football team was going to be weak on coaches for a while, but with any kind of luck Rick and Danny would be able to get enough of a handle on things to make it all work.

The fact that Battle was making himself an active enemy in the process was new, but not really anything she didn’t expect. As school board president he had been responsible for a lot of the crap that had gone down with the football team and caused problems in the school. Now that she thought about it, he may have been more of a problem than she had realized. He’d been a football player years before, before her time, and it could be that some of the present attitude that football players should be king of the hill around the school had stayed with him. It would explain a lot of things that had happened in the last few years. It might even at least partly explain why an obvious asshole like Payne had been hired in the first place.

She thought about it for a few minutes, then called John Archer for the second time that morning – the first being to tell him that Weilfahrt had indeed been fired and that plans for a replacement were in place. Now, she passed along to him the gist of what Ashley had told her, not revealing her source. “If the assistant coaches go through with it, it’s just about what I’d been hoping for,” she told John, “but having Battle in the mix is something new.”

“Odds are that it’s not going to come to anything,” John told her. “I don’t count the votes the same way as George does. There’s no question that whatever happens in the first round, we have four votes for sure, and maybe the other two if we have competent coaching in place by the time the meeting rolls around a week from tonight. But, if worse comes to worst, there’s still a chance to break the string of bad behavior and start over, because it’ll be well after football season until any recall could take place. Even if it does, we stand a good chance of beating it with Randy and Ryan behind us, and I’m pretty sure they’re still mad enough to pull out all the stops.”

“It probably would cause a hell of a stink,” Brandy pointed out. “You understand there are going to be some unhappy people around town when I drop what we talked about yesterday on them, don’t you? With Battle making trouble, it could be worse.”

“Yeah, but if it gets that far it’s a stink that needs to be made,” John told her. “If that happens, we still have a good chance of winning, but if the football team is at least competent, then it’s not going to get that far. Push comes to shove, Brandy, if it gets that far and we lose, we really haven’t lost a hell of a lot. I mean, Harold is retired anyway and Ryan had to twist his arm pretty hard to get him to take the superintendent’s job even on an interim basis. I never wanted to be on the school board in the first place. I mean the only reason I agreed was the fact that Ryan twisted my arm too, and he pointed out that I had an obvious reason to make some waves. And you, well, if this falls through it’s not going to hurt your retirement any.”

“All true,” she said. “Except that it would leave me with nothing to do. You saved my butt years ago when you got Hekkinan to offer me the coaching and teaching job. I was going nuts out of pure boredom.”

“Yeah, but that was ten years ago, so you’re ten years older,” John grinned. “I’m sure you can find something else to do, even if it’s coaching basketball down at Albany River. Hell, you might even think about taking a cooking class.”

“Now, that’s something that’s never going to happen,” she laughed. “Let’s just hope that things don’t get that bad.”

“We’ve gone this far,” John told her. “All we can do is keep going.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she sighed. “Hey, I’d better get some work done now that you’re in charge of my paycheck. Catch you later.”

“Hang in there,” John told her by way of reply. “The roughest roads often lead to the prettiest views, after all. You should know that better than I do. See you around, Brandy.”

Brandy hung up the phone, thinking about things some more. After a minute’s consideration, she picked it up again and dialed Rick Kulwicki. “How are things out at the Pike today?” she asked.

“Typical slow Monday morning,” he replied. “Couple guys in here drinking coffee and playing gin, that’s about it. What can I do for you today?”

“Just thought I’d bring you up to date,” she told him. “I canned Weilfahrt about an hour ago, and I’m hearing word that he’s going to get his assistant coaches to resign in protest. I think he wants to show that we can’t get along without him, not at this late a date, anyway.”

“Might not be as much stink if it happens that way rather than you just out and out canning them,” he replied perceptively.

“That’s kind of what I’m thinking,” she smiled. “Let’s give this time to work. Rather than announcing this afternoon that you’re going to be the new coach, let’s just let it go until practice starts tomorrow.”

“And by then you’re going to have things so worked up that this will get lost in the shuffle,” he laughed. “I can see you’re not the kind of person to do things halfway, and I have to say I kind of like that.”

“There are a lot of people who are going to be pissed off about Weilfahrt,” she said bluntly, “and there are going to be more pissed off people before this is over with. But I’ll keep my word. I’m doing my best to set this up so that I’ll wind up taking the heat on it, so you can concentrate on coaching football.”

*   *   *

Darrell Stersec glanced up from where he was busy scrubbing the wheel on his pickup truck and got a smile on his face again. Courtney was cute, no doubt about it, not that there was much room for doubt considering that tiny bikini that she wore.

The last couple days were still pretty amazing for Darrell. He’d never had a lot of luck in the girlfriend department, and after Saturday night he wouldn’t have been surprised if Courtney had never wanted to see him again. But then, when he’d called her up on Sunday afternoon to see if she was doing all right, she’d suggested that they get together for some ice cream down at the Frostee Freeze. They’d spent quite a bit of time mostly by themselves down there just talking – the place had been loaded with summer tourists for once, rather than the kids who often hung around. There had been little discussion with anyone else about the events of Saturday night and the early hours of Sunday morning.

Over their ice cream, she’d said that whatever else had happened, it looked like sticking with him all through that long night had managed to keep her out of trouble with her folks. That was good, since by then it had become clear that there were a lot of other kids at the party who had been up to their collective asses in trouble. As far as her parents knew, she’d gotten in about midnight like she’d been supposed to, not six AM like really had happened, and there had been no need for a call to her parents to pick her up at the jail.

Darrell had reported much the same thing with his parents, and they both agreed that just by sheer luck they’d dodged the bullet. That made them compatriots of a sort, friends, not just a couple kids who’d hooked up at a party under the pressure of beer. That had been reinforced by the good outcome she’d had from listening to his advice and following him, and he’d been impressed by the fortitude she’d displayed in trying circumstances. And, well, one thing led to another, which had included a trip in his pickup truck down to Camden to catch a movie.

On the way she’d commented that his truck was kind of dirty, and he agreed it was; he’d spent some time recently out running around on woods roads. Then she’d said that while it was sort of late to do it today, considering how tired she still was, if he wanted to wash it she’d be willing to come over and help out; after all, that was the kind of thing a girlfriend did with her boyfriend. When she put it that way, he had no problem agreeing.

And then she’d showed up at his house wearing her bikini, one that covered just about nothing, certainly less than she’d been wearing when they’d hooked up at the party Saturday evening. Darrell thought she looked hotter than somewhat in it, and rationalized that while Courtney may have had some faults, he wasn’t going to be in the position a lot of guys were, wondering if their girlfriends were going to put out. After all, he and Courtney had already made it – three times, in fact: once at the party, and twice more to warm up over the course of the long, chilly night. It may have been a little awkward and an unconventional start as boyfriend and girlfriend, but the results seemed worth it.

He wasn’t sure what they’d wind up doing once the truck was detailed, but there seemed to be a chance it could involve some more of the same. Under the less trying conditions they might even get a chance to try out some stuff they never could have considered Saturday night. Or, perhaps not – the bikini sort of got him thinking that the Frostee Freeze and the beach also had their merits.

They were so busy working on the truck – and trying to soak each other down in good fun in the process – that they didn’t even notice the Sheriff’s Department patrol car come to a stop behind them until they heard the door slam. Oh, shit! Darrell thought when he looked up to see the brown and white of the car, and the sheriff standing there. “Getting it nice and clean, I see,” the sheriff said.

“Yeah,” Darrell said, thinking he might as well play it cool. “It was starting to look a little messy, so we thought we’d clean it up. Any problem with it?”

“No, no problem,” the sheriff smiled. “I saw you kids working on it and thought it would be a good chance to have a little talk with the two of you.”

Uh-oh, Darrell thought. Maybe we’re screwed after all. “I guess,” he said with tones of disappointment in his voice.

“Look, I know where both you kids were Saturday night,” the sheriff said. “Enough other kids have mentioned that the both of you were there, but it’s been long enough now that I couldn’t prove anything if I wanted to. You kids might like to know that as far as I know, you were the only two who escaped the roundup without getting arrested.”

“I’ll be damned,” Darrell said. “I didn’t know that.”

“I don’t want to say it’s a feather in your cap, but you kept it from being a clean sweep. So congratulations, you got away with it. But just one thing: if you try it again and you’re not so lucky, it’s going to wind up harder on you if I catch you at it again.”

“There’s not going to be much chance of that,” Courtney said. “That beer they had at the party was awful. There’s no point in risking it for that stuff.”

“Right,” Darrell agreed. “We just wanted to have fun, but that stuff was so bad that it wasn’t worth the trouble.”

“Schadler’s, what do you expect?” the sheriff grinned. “We confiscated over a hundred cans of leftovers, and when the time comes to dispose of it, the deputies don’t even want it for a beer party of their own. You kids keep your noses as clean as you’re getting that truck, and you aren’t in any trouble. This time, anyway.”

“Wow,” Courtney said after the sheriff drove off. “We were the only ones that escaped? I didn’t know that.”

“Me, either,” Darrell shook his head. “Courtney, I think you and I can have some fun together, but I don’t think our fun had better include any more beer parties.”

She gave him an interesting grin and replied, “I can think of other more fun things to do.”

*   *   *

Out on her back porch, Ashley wasn’t wearing much of anything, as was her normal custom for working the phones when her folks weren’t around. It played to her fantasies a little to dress as slutty as possible, at least in hopes her dreams might someday come true. Now that they seemed a little closer to reality, it seemed sort of childish. At least the extremely tiny bikini she wore – much too small and thin to be wearing on the beach down on Lakeshore – was cool on what promised to be another hot day. Maybe she could find some place, some excuse to wear it for Lyle, she thought absently. Maybe even this afternoon . . .

Right about then she was getting frustrated. All the regulars she talked to had their phones busy, presumably chattering back and forth about what had gone on at the courthouse this morning, or passing the word about Coach Weilfahrt getting fired. She dialed and dialed again, hoping to catch someone off the phone, but it was no use.

She couldn’t even call Lyle to tell him about it – she knew he was tied up doing something else. In desperation, she decided to reach out to some of her less frequent contacts. She talked with Summer Trevetheck every now and then, even though Summer wasn’t much of a gossip. At least it would be someone to tell, and on thinking about it she remembered that Lyle had gotten friendly with Summer and Alan over at the Frostee Freeze on Saturday.

Almost unbelievably, Summer’s phone wasn’t busy. “Hi, Summer, it’s Ashley,” she said. “Did you hear that Mrs. Wine canned Coach Weilfahrt this morning?”

“No, I hadn’t heard that,” Summer replied, “but it’s good news, isn’t it? I mean, not that I particularly care about football.”

“I can’t help but think that there are going to be a lot of people upset about it,” Ashley replied, deciding to not pass on what she’d heard from Laurel about what Shelly Battle had told her. Summer wasn’t that much of a gossip, after all. “It’s probably going to be the talk of the town among the football freaks for a while.”

“Good,” Summer replied. “It’ll give them something useful to talk about instead of the usual bullshit and trash talk. Anyway, Alan and I were just talking about you. Do you and Lyle have anything planned for this afternoon?”

Ashley wasn’t about to admit that she had some plans for Lyle for the afternoon, even if Lyle wasn’t totally aware of them. “Not really,” was all she replied about that. “Lyle is over helping Mrs. Mykelhoff with the basketball team this morning. That ought to be breaking up pretty soon, and he’s supposed to call me when he gets done so we can figure out what we want to do.”

“Well, you remember we were talking about the game that Alan and I are working on? Lyle made some really good suggestions and Alan and I spent most of the day yesterday working on them. We thought that maybe he might like to come over this afternoon to help us try it out and bring you along. Jack and Vixen said they could make it for a couple hours; that would give us six. That’s enough for a pretty good trial.”

“Well, it’s possible,” Ashley sighed. Messing with a role playing game didn’t really interest her that much, but it had to be better than sitting around the house nearly nude while getting a busy signal on every phone number she could think of to dial. What she wanted to do with Lyle was considerably more interesting, but she’d wondered off and on all morning if maybe she wasn’t pushing a little too hard. And, on top of that, it would be fun to hang out with some friends, and it looked like Alan and Summer were starting to be real friends, not just telephone friends. Jack and Vixen, well, they had potential, too. “I’d have to wait till I can get hold of Lyle to talk to him.”

“No big rush,” Summer said. “The house will be quiet, we won’t get interrupted until the folks get home, and our place has air conditioning.”

Air conditioning on a hot afternoon was a hell of a selling point as far as Ashley was concerned; it was part of the reason she wore as little as possible when she was home alone. Her folks had never had air conditioning, and it could get really uncomfortable on a day as hot as this one promised to be. “Sounds like it might be a plan,” she conceded. “But like I said, I’ll have to wait till I can talk to Lyle.”

*   *   *

Over in the principal’s office Brandy’s phone rang yet again! Would her life as principal consist only of reacting to the damn telephone? It proved to be Carol from out front again. “A couple things, Brandy,” Carol told her. “We just got a fax from Larry Weber resigning as the JV football team coach.”

“OK,” Brandy replied. “I was sort of expecting that. Don’t lose it. Anything else?”

“Well, yes,” Carol replied. “Georgette Kempa is here, she wants to talk to you.”

Oh shit, Brandy thought. That’s all I need. Georgette was a pain in the ass from the day she was born. Georgette was president of the Marlin Athletic Boosters, and was someone who thought that the old regime had been just fine, thank you. Her daughter, Mary Lou, was a cheerleader, although there was some degree of doubt whether she’d be cheering this fall after getting her jaw broken in some fracas at the Frostee Freeze a while back. Right now she couldn’t yell worth a damn with her jaw wired shut, not a good thing for a cheerleader.

Despite all the state championship trophies in the trophy case, there wasn’t much love lost between Brandy and the Athletic Boosters, and it went back to the first year she’d been coaching, the year of the Magnificent Seven. Historically, the Athletic Boosters bought the uniforms for most of the teams, but they’d thought so little of the girls’ chances before the season opened that they hadn’t even bothered to wash or repair the rather tattered girls’ basketball uniforms that were all the school had in stock. Knowing that the self-confidence of her seven girls was very shaky at the time, Brandy had refused to issue the uniforms, and with Coach Hekkinan’s agreement had issued the team the girls’ volleyball uniforms as a stopgap until the new uniforms Brandy had ordered could arrive.

Looking back, Brandy still couldn’t believe that the girls had managed to pull off a win over in the old gym at Warsaw. It had come on a last-second Hail Mary when Amanda Musgrave – now Mykelhoff – had managed to steal the ball and pass it to their best shooter, Tabitha Augsberg, who nailed the come-from-behind three-pointer from half court. In the heady joy of the extremely unexpected victory, the girls voted to continue wearing the volleyball uniforms as a sign of solidarity, and of the fact that they’d believed in themselves when no one but their coach had bothered.

Wear them they did, clear onto the floor of Jones Arena at the state semifinals. Every reporter in the place picked up on the fact that the girls from Spearfish Lake were wearing uniforms reading, “Lady Marlin Volleyball” – and the story got statewide coverage, some of it even farther than that – and all of it showing how cheap the Athletic Boosters were.

Needless to say, the Athletic Boosters were not impressed, and the relationship between them and Brandy still couldn’t be considered as warm as “icy,” in spite of the trophies out in the display case. As a result, ten years later Brandy was still providing uniforms for the girls’ basketball teams – volleyball style, because the girls and Brandy liked them, rather than the traditional basketball outfits that seemed like three-sizes-too-large leftovers from the boys’ teams. The Athletic Boosters still groused about it, too, considering them “too revealing,” although somehow the same uniforms weren’t too revealing for the girls on the volleyball team. It was still a sign of solidarity that gave the girls’ basketball teams an edge on their competitors, although now the uniforms did at least read, “Lady Marlin Basketball.”

As far as Brandy knew – and she didn’t care very much – everyone who had been on the Booster’s board back then was gone now, but still the tension continued. “I guess I’d better talk to her,” Brandy said. “This might not take long, but if anyone else calls to resign, tell them that I need to have it on paper, not just verbal, OK?”

As expected, Brandy could just about see the steam blowing out of Georgette’s ears, not that she normally operated any other way. “What’s this stuff about you firing Jerome Weilfahrt?” she yelled as soon as she got in the door.

“I did it, and I’m glad I did,” Brandy replied flatly. She wasn’t going to let the Athletic Booster president, of all people, push her around. “He flatly refused to enforce even minimum discipline standards called for in the Athletic Code of Conduct on the players involved in that fracas Saturday night, so I showed him the door.”

“But that doesn’t mean anything, it’s just words,” Georgette fumed. “Nobody’s bothered to enforce those for years.”

“I beg to differ,” Brandy said, not trying to be courteous anymore. “I’ve been a coach longer than Weilfahrt has, and I’ve always followed them to the letter. You can ask any of half a dozen girls I’ve had to sit down over the years whether I meant it or not. Weilfahrt never bothered, and I don’t know how he got away with it. Students are students, boys or girls, and they will follow the athletic code as long as I’m the athletic director. Everybody is subject to it equally, whether they run track, play basketball, play football, or whatever.”

“But how can you expect to have a team if you don’t have coaches? I’ve heard that most of the coaches, if not all of them, are going to resign in protest.”

“Fine with me,” Brandy said, fuming a little now herself. “What it comes down to is that the kids Saturday night broke the training rules they agreed on in writing, so they’re going to have to bear the consequences. There are rules for coaches, too, and enforcing the code of conduct is one of them. If they’re not going to enforce them, then they have to bear the consequences, too. We’re not going to do things one way for the basketball team and another way for the football team. If that means no football this fall, fine. The way the team has played for Weilfahrt the last few years, the school might be better off without football.”

“No football?” Georgette shrieked. “That would . . . that would just kill everything around here. You can’t have a high school in this town without football!”

“Oh, we could if we had to,” Brandy smiled evilly. “In fact, we might be better off without it. It would balance the athletic budget if we didn’t have to waste the money on it, and there are kids who might even learn something.”

“No football? That’s unthinkable! You’d better believe that I’m going to go to the school board on this!”

“Be my guest,” Brandy replied. “As long as I’m the athletic director, the rules are going to be followed, no exceptions.”

“By God, I’m going to call John Archer about this right now,” Georgette yelled as she headed out of the office.

Well, Brandy thought as the door slammed, that went better than it might have, and I laid a little false trail in the process that might divert some attention for a few hours. I hope John enjoys his lunch. He might be able to talk a little sense into her, but I doubt it.

Speaking of lunch . . . she got up and walked out to the front office. “Wow,” Carol said. “She sure had her panties in a wad, didn’t she?”

“I’d say that was a fair statement,” Brandy grinned. “Any more resignations come in?”

“One of the assistant varsity coaches, just now,” Carol said soberly – she didn’t know much of what Brandy had in mind, after all. “This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Brandy agreed, “but it had to be done. I’m going to go grab some subs and take them out to have lunch with Phil at the dog barn. I should be back in an hour or so. By the way, I’m not taking my cell phone with me.”



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To be continued . . .

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