Thirty-Nine
Trudy
“Carter, honey, what happened?” Trudy went to his door.
He resisted looking at her. Blood oozed through a scab on his lip and covered his shirt. Trudy leaned closer and smelled alcohol. “Have you been drinking ?”
His face met his hands. “I didn’t know where to go.” He looked at her. “You’re the only one who knows.”
“Son, let’s get you inside,” Coach Meechum said behind Trudy. “We’ve got first aid stuff in the—”
“No.” Carter shook his head, perhaps unnerved by Shug’s presence. “I don’t ... I’m sorry. I’ll get going.” He put his hand on the keys and turned the ignition.
“Absolutely not,” Trudy said, and opened his car door. “You’re not driving like this. Come inside.”
Carter sobbed; his head bowed until he finally handed her the keys. Inside the field house, Shug told Carter to sit on the trainer’s table, flipped open the big ice machine, and started filling a plastic bag. Trudy kept her arms around the boy.
“Any dizziness?” Shug asked, gently placing the ice on Carter’s black eye and inspecting his injuries. “Seeing stars or anything?”
Carter winced at the ice, held the pack to his face, and shook his head. “No sir.”
“You’ll want someone to take a look at that nose. If the bone’s out of place, they’ll need to reset it.”
Carter winced again as Shug applied pressure with the ice.
“Who did this?” Shug asked.
Carter peered up at the coach. “Maybe some water?”
Shug paused, then stepped over to one of the big orange coolers with a Gatorade logo and filled a little cone cup. Carter dropped the ice pack and began to cry when Shug came back with the water, sipping gingerly between sobs.
“Carter?” Trudy said. “Honey, you need to tell us what happened.”
Carter shook his head. Trudy rubbed his back while he cried into her shoulder. She looked at Shug and they both shrugged.
“Was it June Bug?” Trudy asked.
Carter pulled in a long breath and finally nodded.
“Take your time, son. Just breathe.” Shug applied some Bactine to his cuts with a cotton swab and skillfully bandaged his eyebrow. After a bit, Carter settled enough to talk, though his story was interrupted by heaves and sobs.
“They held me down. Zach and Greg. After walking in on me and June Bug. I should have never agreed to go to the dance with them. I only did it because Dad rented that fucking limo. He’s just trying to help me be friends with more boys.
We drank wine coolers. June Bug said the door was locked.
We have so much fun most of the time, but tonight, he switched.
Like a light or something, just turned on a dime when his friends caught us.
Didn’t miss a fucking beat though. Pushed me away and shouted, ‘Get off me, Sissy.’ He’s never called me that before. ”
Trudy kept her arms around Carter as he sobbed for a few moments, then continued.
“Zach and Greg’s eyes seemed like coyotes.
‘Now we know,’ one of them said. ‘Sissy Sissoms really does suck dick.’ They all laughed and June Bug tried to play it off as a prank.
‘Ya’ll should have seen the looks on y’all’s faces!
’ he kept saying, doubled over cackling while I stood there.
And I wasn’t sure what to do. It seemed like I was in a fog, my sight got all distorted, and I just wanted to get out of there.
Zach asked June Bug if he was a faggot. June Bug said, ‘Fuck you.’”
Trudy took Carter’s empty cup from him and asked if he wanted more water. He shook his head.
“They did it in June Bug’s back yard,” Carter continued.
“I didn’t have the strength to break free.
Zach ordered June Bug to punch me in the face, teach me a lesson, break my nose, knock the wind out of me, make me vomit on my suit.
Specific. Like a to-do list. June Bug didn’t want to do it; I could see it in his eyes.
I can always see the truth in June Bug’s eyes.
I’ve always thought if I could just hold on a bit longer, surely June Bug would let the truth prevail. ”
Trudy knew all too well this exact feeling of ridiculous hope amid the darkest betrayal.
“But June Bug’s eyes were glassy,” Carter said. “He must have been in a fog too; he was only doing what he had to do to survive.”
Shug and Trudy exchanged a knowing look.
“I think he broke my nose with the first punch. Zach’s punch busted my lip.
I fell and Greg kicked me in the back. They left me in the backyard.
I didn’t open my eyes. I just laid there praying it was over.
I thought they drove off in Zach’s car, but I guess June Bug stayed because he came back, started begging me to forgive him, but all I could think was that I needed to get my keys and get out of there.
June Bug pleaded, said he was sorry, that something awful came over him, and he hated himself, said he wanted to die.
He overpowered me, got on top of me, threw his arms around me, kissed me on top of the head, blood got all over our suits. ”
The three of them just stood there breathing for a moment. Shug bit his bottom lip and looked at the floor.
“At some point, Mayor Moody came home and flew into a rage, yanked me up by the collar and shouted, ‘Get your faggot ass out of my house.’ Then he slammed June Bug against the side of the house. His head cracked into the brick, and I wanted to vomit again. Mayor Moody slapped him, hard, and screamed, ‘I didn’t raise no god-damned faggot,’ and then he slapped him again.
June Bug hollered for him to stop but Mr. Moody didn’t.
He just kept yelling at us, telling us to get out of there.
He told June Bug to leave and to never come back.
June Bug was freaking out. Hollered at his daddy to fuck off and then he followed me to my car.
He begged me not to leave but I told him I never wanted to see him again.
And that’s when he said, ‘Then I’m never going to see anyone again,’ and he tore off in his truck. ”
Carter’s guess about June Bug’s whereabouts was right.
When they got to Bessemer’s Bluff, June Bug’s truck was parked there, and June Bug was sitting out on the huge sycamore that grew sideways out of the limestone cliff.
It had hung out over the river, misplaced and lonely, like a sideways flagpole for years.
It was a miracle, really, that it had not only grown there, but had withstood its own weight for so long, and now that of the quarterback.
June Bug was breaking a stick and tossing little pieces of it into the black beneath him.
The tree’s white trunk reflected the full moon.
“QB-1!” Meechum called; he and Trudy had dropped Carter at home. “Been looking for you.”
“Turn that flashlight off!” June Bug called back.
Shug switched it off. Everything turned to pitch until Trudy’s eyes adjusted to the light of the moon.
“A little chilly for a swim,” Coach said.
“Is he going to jump?” Trudy whispered.
“He’ll be fine. Stay here.” Shug left Trudy on the edge and shuffled down the cliff to the base of the tree, sort of scooting on his butt until eventually, he straddled the sideways tree, his feet dangling on either side of the trunk.
One false move and he’d end up on the rocks hundreds of feet below. Trudy held her breath.
June Bug bent his gaze toward Shug; his wet face sparkled in the moonlight. He rolled his eyes, one of which was bruised.
“Not really a fan of heights myself,” Shug said, his voice echoing through the hollow, off the rocks and water. “How far down you think it is?”
June Bug kept breaking his stick, tossing the pieces. “You won’t survive it if you jump.”
“That what you’re planning to do?”
June Bug stared down into the black.
“Can we talk?”
The quarterback scratched his nose and shrugged. “Daddy never wants to see me again. I beat up Carter. What’s there to talk about?” June Bug side-eyed his coach, then chuckled darkly.
“Might be easier up top. You can just take my hand, and we’ll climb up and sort all this out. Not here to judge or anything, just whatever you need. We don’t even have to tell anyone. Whatever you want.”
June Bug’s voice broke, and a little whimper came out. Trudy had heard the same pathetic sound from Jimmie that day. Then, it had disgusted her, but now, that little sound, tinny and so unexpected from June Bug’s muscular body, clawed at her heart.
June Bug choked back a sob. “Carter here?”
Meechum cleared his throat. “He’s not.”
June Bug’s long, bony feet were bare; he must’ve been freezing.
“You know, if I had it to do over again ...” Shug shifted a little and the tree bounced.
“There’s so many things I’d do different.
The great thing is, see, the older I get, the more I realize I can always start over.
Always the next play, you know? Even after a sack, you get up and snap the ball again. ”
“Not if you have to punt.” June Bug threw another piece of stick into the darkness below.
“True,” Shug said. “But even then, you go to the sideline, give the defense a shot, and then get a fresh start.”
“He said I’ll never be his son. Your daddy ever tell you that, Coach? That you’re not his son?”
“No.” Coach Meechum shook his head. “My father never said that.” Shug turned so that both legs dangled off the same side of the tree now, he placed the bottom of one wingtip on the tree and tried to stand up but slipped on the papery bark.
Shug cried out, catching himself and landing back on his buttocks.
Trudy’s breath escaped her.
“A little slippery, huh?” Meechum looked back up the cliff and then down to the water below. He leaned down carefully and tugged one shoe off and let it drop into the river.
“What are you doing?” June Bug asked.