Thirty-Seven
Trudy
Six tornadoes could have touched down and no one would have noticed, not with Bear Bryant mere hours from arrival.
Boys had gotten haircuts and donned suits; girls wore Sunday dresses and so many new perms floated down the halls defying physics and logic, it was as if every Bailey Springs girl had spent the weekend sitting in wind tunnels while simultaneously sticking their fingers in light sockets.
Emily had lamented how she almost hadn’t gotten a beauty shop appointment.
Trudy imagined the TG you sit the bench.”
“Gulley’s right,” Carter said, and everyone’s heads snapped toward him, collectively shocked that he’d inserted himself in this moment. “Don’t do this, June Bug.”
“Mind your business, Sissy!” Zach pointed.
The pop of June Bug’s fist breaking Zach’s nose turned Trudy’s stomach and made all the girls scream.
The two boys grabbed one another’s collars and started thrashing about like two mammals from a nature documentary in some primal display of maleness.
Students scrambled. Textbooks slammed to the floor.
Graph paper rained like leaflets warning citizens of an impending carpet bombing.
Trudy marched toward them trying for arms, collars, anything she could grab hold of, but she backed away, her hands no match for their muscles and fury. She shouted at Marty McBibbs, the student closest to her, “Go get Coach Meechum!”
Marty scurried out.
“Both of you! Stop!” Trudy hollered, but Zach body slammed June Bug across a lab table, Zach on top with his hand covering June Bug’s entire face pressing it into the butane gas spigot. Blood began to ooze from his cheek.
Trudy, uselessly, screamed, “Enough!”
June Bug kneed Zach in the balls and shoved him off his chest. Zach yelped in pain as they crashed across another lab table, then slammed into the experiment prep counter.
A tray of test tubes shattered across the floor.
The pencil sharpener ripped from the wall, scattering a storm of shavings in every direction.
Zach flailed beneath June Bug, their limbs locked in a furious tangle. Shirt tails pulled loose. Muscles flexed. Taut stomachs lifted and twisted, all slick with sweat and rage.
June Bug went for another punch, but Zach caught his wrist and used it to roll June Bug onto the floor.
Gulley finally got between them and forced them apart. “Same team, guys! Same team!”
That’s when June Bug swung at Gulley—and missed.
Now pissed, Gulley grabbed both boys by the collar and dragged them to the safety shower.
With one hard yank, he pulled the lever.
The whoosh of water drowned the room and bathed the boys apart.
They stood there, stunned—panting and soaked.
Their white shirts clung to their skin like second thoughts.
Zach’s nose, and June Bug’s lip and cheek, bled.
“Mr. Hendon’s office!” Trudy said.
The boys looked at one another and then at Trudy.
“Now!”
The classroom looked as if those six tornadoes had indeed ripped through it. The sopping boys gathered their things.
Trudy escorted them into the hallway. “You boys proud of yourselves?”
Zach stared at the floor as if pondering Trudy’s question.
June Bug narrowed his eyes but didn’t speak.
In the hallway, Trudy stood planted as Zach and June Bug lumbered toward the office, their soaked shoes squeaking, leaving a trail of puddles across the tile. Coach Meechum and Marty rounded the corner, nearly colliding with them.
Shug scanned the boys up and down—blood, drenched clothes, disheveled hair—and rolled his eyes. “Go on,” he said, voice low. The boys dropped their heads and disappeared around the corner. Marty ducked back into the classroom.
Shug turned to Trudy. “You okay?”
“I don’t know.” She tried to slow her breath. “We were talking about hydrogen and ... June Bug punched him.”
“Damnit.” Coach exhaled hard. “Now they can’t play.”
Of course. That had been June Bug’s plan all along. He’d thrown his chances with Bear Bryant—perhaps thrown the whole season. Right there in the classroom.
“How did this happen?” Coach Meechum asked.
Tears welled in Trudy’s eyes, the adrenaline giving way to everything else—Carter and June Bug, Shug’s kiss, the biscuits, Haskel, all of it—crashing in at once. “It was so sudden, I—”
“Well, who should I ask?” Shug snapped, hands on hips, his voice sharp like a whistle. “Weren’t you there?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her own voice rose. “You know he did this on purpose, right?”
“Come again?” Shug tilted his head.
“June Bug. He did this on purpose, so that you’d bench him tonight.”
“You’re talking about June Bug Moody? You’re saying he started a fight so I’d bench him? That’s what you’re saying?”
“Yes. And I know you said to leave it alone, but Shug, I heard him.”
Shug barked a laugh. “No kid in his right mind would tank his shot to play in front of Bear Bryant on purpose.” Shug looked at the ceiling, exasperated.
“You probably think his performance at the first game was because of the Field House Run, don’t you? I thought you knew everything about these boys.”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“No, but I think June Bug has. You cannot bench him tonight. You’ve got to make him play.”
“We have rules, Trudy. And sometimes enforcing them hurts. But that’s my job.”
“Your job is to win football games.”
“Really?” Meechum sniggered. “Who told you that? The superintendent?”
Trudy’s jaw went slack, stung.
“My job, Miss Abernathy, is to help these boys become men by building character. But you wanna know what’s not my job?
Ensuring your future husband wins his election.
” Coach Meechum shook his head. “You know, I’ve seen people try to cover their asses before, but I’ve gotta say, this takes the cake, even for a politician’s wife. ”
“I’m no one’s wife .”
“Are you so afraid of the next scandal you’re throwing kids under the bus?”
“What’s your plan? Let him throw his life away in the name of building character ?”
Shug spoke through gritted teeth. “My life is pouring my soul into those boys. It’s a sacred bond you know nothing about.”
“Sacred bond, huh?” Trudy folded her arms. “So, when are you planning to tell them you’re leaving?”
“Leaving?” Shug twisted up his face.
“Better yet, when were you planning to tell me ? Or are you just too big-time now to say goodbye to the locals?”
Shug tried to speak, but it didn’t matter; Trudy’s anger was full bore and she’d closed her ears. It was unfair to take all her weight out on Shug, but he’d kept a big secret, and it hurt. “Well, congratulations and Roll Tide, Shug!” she said. “Must be real exciting for a Podunk football coach.”
It slipped out like a flicked match. But it didn’t burn out—it hung between them sparking, smoking, and splitting the space between them wide open.
Meechum went pale. He stepped back, nodding his head, memorizing the moment.
“As much as I would love to stand here and be lectured about how to coach football, I’ve gotta go call Bear Bryant and tell him to cancel his trip.
Then I’ve gotta find a quarterback somewhere the hell between here and seven o’clock. ”
He turned to leave but then paused. “One more thing, though.” He held a finger between his face and hers. “That fishing trip? It actually meant something to me. But what do I know? I’m just a Podunk football coach.”
“Shug.” Trudy’s voice cracked; her shoulders collapsed. “I didn’t mean that.”
She reached for him, but he walked away and disappeared around the corner.
Walking into the stadium should have felt electrifying. Instead, it felt like walking to the electric chair. No one crowded the parking lot vying for a glimpse of Bear Bryant. No kids showed up with footballs or Crimson Tide helmets hoping for autographs. The air was gray with letdown.
Barbara’s version of events spread faster than a grease fire: Trudy’s inability to control her classroom had forced Coach Meechum into this terrible situation. Haskel Moody should have never allowed his inexperienced fiancée to teach—yet another reason he should never become the mayor.
The cheerleaders turned cold shoulders when Trudy asked if they needed anything. Vangie said, “Don’t you think you’ve done enough already?” Nasty. Smart-alecky. Even Faye was frosty.
Conversations ended abruptly around her all evening. Lucy and Leon shook their heads as if Haskel had offered them an insect. The whole Boosters section sagged with resentment. The Beaumonts sat in general admission, away from the Moodys, who were now on terrible terms with Barbara.
The Mustangs embarrassed the Bruins, 28–3.
Even Miss Duffy was peeved. She told Trudy, “It was the saddest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
” She described how Shug had called Bear Bryant from her telephone to let him know that June Bug wasn’t playing.
“The most exciting event in Bailey Springs history died before it ever even began,” she said, then she informed Trudy that she had to be the chaperone for the homecoming dance.
“Sorry. Another duty I forgot to tell you about when you were hired.”
Trudy considered reminding folks the season wasn’t actually over, that the Bruins would likely win the rest of their games and still be region champs. Perhaps Coach Bryant could come to a different game, once June Bug came to himself. But it wasn’t her place to offer optimism.
This was exactly what June Bug had wanted, but that didn’t make her feel better; she had to keep his secret.
Besides, no one in a million lifetimes would ever believe—because it was indeed unbelievable—that the strapping, athletic Moody boy, sitting atop Bear Bryant’s short list, had intentionally trashed his chances to play for the Tide because he was in love with another boy.