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Reaching for Wings
A Tale From Spearfish Lake
by Wes Boyd
©2012, ©2017



Chapter 39

Congressman Elmer Lawton’s main office was in Washington, of course, but his home district office was in his home district. It was a real pain in the neck to have to fly back and forth to take care of his district, but despite the extremely lousy airline connections he did it every couple weeks. There was work to be done at both places, and that made his weekends at home even busier than his time in Washington.

As always, there was a stack of paperwork that had to be dealt with, and partway down his agenda was working out his nominations for the military academies. He didn’t do it himself, of course; that was what aides were for, but he had to review their recommendations. The nominations for Annapolis were straightforward, and the ones for West Point were also pretty easy; there were five serious applicants, but one stood out head and shoulders above the rest, so that decision was easy, too.

The Air Force Academy – that was a little harder, since he only had two nominations allowed there this year. One kid was the son of an Air Force colonel, so he he’d been raised around the military, and knew where his bread was buttered. The other kid, well, just didn’t ring his bell. Average student at best, and his motivation seemed weak. “What the hell is this?” Lawton asked his aide.

“His father is a contributor,” the aide said. “Not a real big one, but he has some pull.”

“I don’t like it,” Lawton said. “I’ll bet this kid wouldn’t last a month at the Academy. It’d be too tough for him. I’ve talked to a kid from Spearfish Lake a couple times who really seems to have her act together. Why isn’t she here?”

“Well, it’s political,” the aide shrugged. “I mean, I thought you’d like to do some back scratching.”

“Look,” Lawton said with some heat. “I’ve sent too many marginally qualified kids to service academies who got nominations through political pull, and they usually fall flat on their asses. It makes me look like a fool. Now what’s the deal on this kid from Spearfish Lake?”

“I have her down as the first alternate. It’s the next one down.”

Lawton flipped to the application pack. Yes, this was the kid, all right. Top student, good athlete, accomplished pilot in spite of her age. Looking at her picture, he could remember her coming to him a couple years before, and how impressed he had been with her politeness, her poise, her goals. Yes. “Give her the second nomination,” he told the aide.

“How about the political candidate? I don’t think you want his dad upset with you.”

“Offer him the first alternate spot,” Lawton said decisively. “There’s a chance the colonel’s kid has an application in elsewhere, too. Now, what’s next?”

*   *   *

The Marlins managed to keep their game face on for the next few minutes, congratulating the Bulldogs on their hard-fought victory. Howie actually managed to stay reasonably sportsmanlike during a brief post-game interview for the cable network that had carried the game, which had been a thriller in all respects down to the last instant.

Still, everyone was subdued when they filed outside to the waiting bus; there were handshakes and condolences from well-wishers, like Jack, Vixen, Alan, and Summer. Lyle and Ashley were there too; even Cody and Jan were among the crowd of well-wishers that gathered around, a crowd that included Bree and Autumn.

But that was as far as their game faces could take them.

Howie settled into his seat with a scowl on his face. “Shit,” was all he could manage to say.

Jared sat down beside him, just about as disheartened. “That about fucking says it all,” he agreed.

They sat in a depressed silence as the rest of the players got on the bus. Not many words were spoken, and the ones that were all mirrored Howie’s attitude exactly.

Coaches Kulwicki and Reardon were among the last to get on the bus. Kulwicki took the microphone for the bus’s PA system and said, “Guys, we lost a tough one by a squeaker, and there’s no denying it. But you played them hard, you played your best, and you took Spearfish Lake football further than it’s ever been before. I’m proud of all of you. Don’t look at this as a defeat. You were just outpointed, you didn’t lose.”

His statement was met by silence and scowls from one end of the bus to the other. “Yeah, I know,” Kulwicki sighed. “It hurts, and even though I’ve been there before it hurts me, too. All I can say is get over it. Believe it or not, it’s not the end of the world.” He turned to the bus driver and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

When Howie had ridden into Detroit on the bus a day and a half before his eyes had been out the window, taking in the strange sights. Now, he didn’t look outside and couldn’t have cared less. “Shit,” he said again after several minutes.

“Yeah,” Jared agreed. “Damn it, you could have thrown the ball to me.”

“Shit no, you were covered seven ways from Sunday,” Howie said. “It was either you or Glen, and he was more in the open. Shit, if I’d thrown it just a hair lower . . .”

“You’d have been intercepted,” Jared pointed out. “That fucker all but had it anyway.”

“Fuck,” Glen said from across the aisle. “If I could have gotten just a little bit higher, jumped just a skosh before . . . shit, now I’m going to be remembered for the rest of my life in Spearfish Lake as the guy who dropped the ball when I could have won the game. That fucking sucks. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to school Monday.”

“Fuck,” Jared agreed. “You’re not fucking alone, Glen. If I hadn’t missed that extra point there in the third quarter . . . shit, I’m right with you. How many fucking extra points have I missed this season? Four, that’s all, four, and that one only missed by a fucking hair.”

Kulwicki was in the seat in front of Glen. Even though the bus was moving now, he swung around and said. “Give it a rest, you guys. There are not many on this bus who can’t look back and say that if they’d done something just a little bit different things might have come out differently. Howie, you had good blocking to protect you, but the blocking for the receivers left something to be desired, and that means most of the offense has something to kick themselves over. It was a fluke. Flukes happen in life, guys. The best thing you can do is to pick yourself up and go do the next thing.”

“Yeah, but why now, of all the damn times,” Glen said dejectedly. “We were so damn close.”

“We were pretty close with St. Ursula a year ago,” Kulwicki pointed out. “That could have gone either way right down to the last few seconds. It didn’t turn out for us. Believe it or not, guys, it’s just a game, not the end of the world.”

“Yeah, Coach, you’re probably right,” Howie said. “But shit! At least last year I could look forward to another year. It’s not going to happen this time. Unless I get a scholarship somewhere I’m not going to be playing football again. I mean, ever. I’m like Glen, I don’t like the thought of remembering my last play being such a screw-up.”

“I hate to say this and you’re going to hate to hear it,” Kulwicki told them, “but look on the bright side. This was the state finals, after all, not a routine regular season game with Albany River or something. No one from Spearfish Lake has ever been where you guys were. Never. That all adds up to a heck of a lot of winning. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Sounds good,” Howie replied, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be disappointed as hell for a long time to come.”

“Probably so, but don’t let it ruin your life. I know this is hard to handle, but there are other things in life than football, and most of them are more important. What I’m trying to say is look back with pride that you made it to the state finals, and don’t let the fact that we lost screw up your life. In case you’re wondering, I have something I can kick myself over, too. I could have had Jared try the extra point. That could have tied the game up and we might have been able to hang on in overtime. Everything counts, guys. Everything. Don’t take it all on yourselves. Now, I think I’d better work my way down the aisle and have a talk with some of the other guys. I’ll bet they need it like you do.”

Coach Kulwicki’s comments may have made them feel better, but only a little bit better. As the coach started to talk to the guys in the seat behind Jared and Howie, the two of them fell into a dejected silence. Howie glanced out the window; what had seemed like an interesting place with a lot of people now seemed like a gloomy dump; he was pretty sure he never wanted to come here again. The memories would be too hard to deal with, he was sure.

“Did you mean it?” Jared asked finally.

“Mean what?”

“About not playing football again.”

“Yeah,” Howie replied, still sounding pretty depressed. “It doesn’t have anything to do with today, either. I mean, yeah, if I get a scholarship somewhere I’ll play again, but I’m not going to walk on, anywhere. It’s going to have to mean something if I play, even for a jerkwater team. I don’t want to try to do it for the fun of it. How about you?”

“I’m guessing not,” Jared sighed. “Oh, if I got a real good scholarship I might have to take them up on it, but I wouldn’t do it for fun, not again. I don’t have to worry about paying for college. There’s some forest land out of town that’s had my college tuition written on it for years, ever since before we came to Spearfish Lake. That’s part of the reason Mom left my sperm donor. He wanted the money from that to piss away on some half-assed investment somewhere. I don’t have to play football, Howie. I only did it in the first place so I could help the team out after all those guys got canned.”

“You going to wrestle this winter?”

“Yeah,” Jared sighed. “I do have a title to defend and a family tradition. It’d be nice to title again but I don’t want to come that close and lose, either.” He got a little smile on his face and added, “Besides, if I don’t at least try for another title, Bree would never let me live it down. I mean, she’s got a team championship and an individual championship. I have to at least stay even with her, not that it’s going to matter after next spring.”

“You honestly think she’s going to the Academy?”

“Hell, I don’t know. All I know is if they pass her up they’re missing a bet. But we’ve always known that as soon as we’re out of high school we’re going to be going different ways. I’m going to miss her, whatever happens.”

“Yeah, shit, everything is kind of coming to an end, isn’t it?”

“It was going to, Howie. We always knew that. At least it’ll be the start of something else.”

Shortly after that the conversation dwindled and died. There just wasn’t anything else to say.

It was a long, quiet ride back home; well, not back home; due to the hour the game ended, it had been decided they wouldn’t try to get back to Spearfish Lake that evening, but stay in a motel in Mackinaw City. They had dinner, and while a few of the guys used the pool in the motel, not many of them did. Mostly they just stayed in their various rooms, sometimes in small groups, and talked over their disappointment until they realized they had little left to talk about.

They were on the road again after breakfast the next day. It was still close to noon before they got close to Spearfish Lake. At the corner of the state road and Central Avenue there were several fire engines sitting in a couple of store parking lots, red lights and strobes flashing. “Shit,” Howie said at the sight, “There must be a fire or something!”

A policeman waved the bus to a stop, as the guys all looked to see what was going on. There didn’t seem to be a fire or anything, but one by one the fire engines pulled out onto Central Avenue, sirens and penetrators blaring; only when the last one was on the highway did the cop wave at them to follow.

“Holy shit,” Glen said from the seat across the aisle. “It’s a welcome home parade. Don’t they know we lost?”

“Apparently not,” Howie said in wonder. “I’ve never heard of this happening. I mean, never!”

But it was true. A good many fans from Spearfish Lake must have passed them when they’d stopped for the night, for the streets were lined with cars and people. There were all sorts of homemade banners, reading things like “Welcome home Marlins!” “A Great Season For a Great Team!” “You Gave It The Good Fight!” and things of that nature. The team just watched in awe as the bus slowly went down Central behind the fire engines.

The procession came to a stop at the corner of Central and Lakeshore, the heart of downtown. There was a huge crowd; Howie and Jared could hardly believe there were that many people in Spearfish Lake! And they’d all come out, after noon on a Sunday, to welcome the team home.

The doors to the bus opened. “Come on, Marlins!” Kulwicki yelled in a bull voice. “Let’s get out and thank our supporters.”

Still scarcely able to believe this was going on, Howie and Jared were among the first off the bus. They’d expected to have to slink back into town in ignominy, yet apparently the people of Spearfish Lake didn’t feel that way. Howie looked around, to see that it was not only just people from around home – Jack and Vixen and Alan and Summer were there, and so were Cody and Jan, Lyle and Ashley. He realized they must have driven hard to be home just for this, because they’d have to get right back in their cars and start driving to be back at college in the morning! It was incredible! He picked Bree and Autumn out of the crowd, too

It turned out that a sound system had been set up at the intersection, and someone handed a wireless microphone to Coach Kulwicki. “We’re all pleased and happy that everyone came out today to welcome us home,” he told the crowd. “We’d hoped to be bringing back a state championship trophy, and I have to tell you we only brought home the runner-up. But thanks to everyone who’s supported us every step of the way.”

There was cheering, and a lot of it. When it died down, Kulwicki added, “I know that Coach Reardon and I had something to do with all of this, but the real honor deserves to go to the guys who fought the good fight all through the season. With that thought in mind, I’m just going to hand the microphone to team captain and quarterback, Howie Erikson.”

Oh, shit, Howie thought. This was hard enough. He didn’t have any idea of what to say, but realized he couldn’t be as negative as his thoughts had been all the way back from Detroit. “It’s really a surprise to see everyone out here today,” he started as he reached for words. “We gave it our best shot, but Lady Luck deserted us a little right there at the end. I will say this, though. Two years ago last fall, when all of a sudden the Junior Varsity got promoted to the Varsity without any warning, I don’t think any of us would have ever dreamed this would have happened. We started way back, but we came a long way in the last three seasons. I shouldn’t be the one talking, but I want to introduce to you the people who really made it happen, starting with Jared Wooten, offensive halfback and kicker. Then there’s end Glen Dollarhyde, who managed to snare a lot of passes he didn’t have any right to. And then there’s . . .” He went on through the whole team, mentioning everyone, even the JVs who had been promoted to the varsity after the regular season, who hopefully would have the experience, he told the crowd, to take what they’d learned and build on it for the future.

“Football season is over with,” Howie said in summation. “I’m sorry to say that there are a lot of us who won’t be back next year. But I think the guys we’re leaving behind and the guys coming up will give Spearfish Lake even more to be proud of.”

*   *   *

There was no doubt that the narrow loss still stung the team when Monday rolled around, but at least it was a quiet resentment. It was surprising how quickly it became an item of the past for them. The huge turnout downtown had done much to restore the team’s attitude, and their faith in themselves; even Howie’s reminder of just how far they had come made it seem a little less painful. It was starting to be understood that they’d always be a little sorry that somehow they hadn’t come out on the other end of the score, but at least with the support of the town it wouldn’t overwhelm them.

Things were a long way back to normal at school on Monday. Well, close to normal; no one felt very much like talking about football, which had been the staple of discussion around the halls and lunchroom for months, especially since the playoffs began. Not many people bothered to look at the runner-up trophy in the school’s trophy case, but Bree happened to be one who did. The trophy was on the front row in the case, of course, but she noticed that it seemed to set an inch or so farther back on the shelf than the girls’ cross-country team state trophy. She wouldn’t have wanted to bet if that was intentional, or what; but the irony was not lost on her and she kept her thoughts to herself.

*   *   *

Bree’s friends knew she was waiting to hear how her application that had been sent to Representative Lawton had turned out, and they had some idea of how much it had her concerned. There wasn’t much they could do to help her out, except try to keep her from getting too nervous about it.

Although it was difficult, knowing what was hanging over her, Bree didn’t back off on her studies in the slightest. For a year it had been clear that she was in the running to be the class valedictorian; although the final reading on that was still some months off, and it would not mean anything for her Air Force Academy acceptance, she kept bearing down on her studies. It might be worth the effort up the road someplace.

Spearfish Lake juggled their semesters slightly so that the semester would end with the Christmas break, so Bree used studying for finals to try and help her from getting too nervous about the application.

The holiday break was a good time. Becca was back home for the holidays – the first time in nearly a year she’d spent more than a couple days there. It was good to catch up with her again; she’d had a good volleyball season at Athens although the team’s record was lackluster. Becca had decided to declare her major in secondary education, although she still wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted to do; she and Myleen were giving some thought to spending another summer in Southern California, trying to make a dent in the beach volleyball circuit. “I know it sounds pretty mundane, compared to what you’re trying to do,” she told Bree in a quiet moment they were able to share together, “but Myleen and I figure that if we don’t do it now, we’ll never get another chance to do it. You have to take your fun where you can get it.”

Jack, Vixen, Alan, and Summer were home from Southern, too, also the first time any of them had been home for any length of time in nearly a year. A little to everyone’s surprise, no parents kicked up any fuss when Summer and Alan moved their stuff into Alan’s room at home; they were a couple and didn’t care who knew about the details. Nor did any parents say anything when Jack and Vixen lived in Jack’s room at Howie’s house, with the same arrangement. It looked like a permanent arrangement for both couples – but then, it had looked like that for a long time, although wedding bells were clearly a good distance in the future.

As had been the case the year before, Autumn was a little sensitive about the holiday season thanks to her mother’s preoccupation with the Old Way, but now that her friends knew about the problem they decided to go out of their way to deal with it. Once again, they spent a quiet afternoon at Bree’s house, having their own Christmas party for her, but exchanging gifts among each of them. And, as had happened the year before, they spent part of the evening in the hot tub on the Gravengood porch as they frequently did, but again singing Christmas carols. To make things even more special, Howie had quietly gotten his mother off to the side, and being very judicious with the truth, got her to agree to have Christmas dinner in the evening, so Jared and Bree could join them for a second meal. It was the largest group that had ever gathered under the roof for Christmas, since Vixen’s parents were there, too.

“It may not work out this way in the future,” Autumn told her friends quietly after the meal was over with. “The odds are that next year we’ll all be scattered to the four winds. If we can get together again next year, I’d really like it, but at least I’ll have the memory of this year to carry with me.”

When Howie asked Autumn if her mother had given her any static about the holiday, she was able to surprise the group a little and tell them that her mother had been pretty reasonable about it. “I’m pretty sure she knows what’s going on,” Autumn admitted, “but I think she just decided to turn her back on it. I think she knows I’m never going to be a real follower of the Old Way, but she keeps trying. At least I’m not going to have to put up with it much longer.”

Catching up on family things kept the holiday pretty busy for everyone, but soon it was over with. The days of winter break went quickly, and soon they were back in school, getting settled in for their last semester at Spearfish Lake High School. The end was in sight, now, but there were still a few months to go – and each of them had unresolved issues about the future. Sometime in the next few months, they’d all have an idea of where their lives were going to take them next.



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To be continued . . .

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