Chapter 5 Maxford #2
My downfall was splashed all over the news cycles.
There were stories, rumors, and pundit commentary for days, as if I were the first guy to ever use steroids to get an edge in the game.
By now, I figured I was a blip on the radar of the sports world, so if there’s any talk of me these days, I want to know why.
I parallel park on the street that leads to the school and keep the engine running.
With an even exhale, I say, “I’m listening.”
“I’ll make this fast. It turns out you’re gone but not forgotten. A few GMs were playing a little fantasy baseball at dinner, making up dream rosters, you know, and you made more than one list.”
My interest sinks. General Managers always talk big when it comes to their dream teams. It amounts to nothing at the end of the day. I catch my reflection in the mirror and remember what I am now. A washed-up, one-hit wonder, who is on his way to being the punchline at a kid’s carnival.
“It’s good to hear from you, but hypotheticals aren’t worth calling me about, Aaron.” My tone is nasty and I reel it in. “Look, I gotta go—”
“There’s that hothead attitude that sunk you, my friend. I’ve missed it.” He chuckles. “Here’s the thing: a couple of them are really interested in bringing you back to the game. With stipulations.”
I can’t believe I’m hearing this and am silent long enough he adds, “You did your suspension. And you didn’t leave on the best terms but people seem to be over that.
I’m still willing to be your agent and I’m positive we can get you a new contract for the upcoming season—if you want to play ball again. ”
He’s not kidding. I’m listening. “What kind of stipulations?”
“They need to see a humbled version of the star you were. Not just a guy who took his consequence and ran out the clock, but a truly changed man in all areas of your life.”
“How do I prove that?” I rub a hand down the side of my face, trying not to get my hopes up.
“Hear me out. Are you dating anybody nice? Somebody who’s not looking for fame?”
I let out a flat laugh. “That’s your big plan?”
“I think showing you are grounded in a long-term relationship would do your image wonders. They’d take you seriously if you had something to lose besides your career, you know?”
This is not what I want to hear. I don’t like dating a woman long enough to let her in, let alone being with her long enough to get back onto a roster. I need to be flexible though, and play along. “Yeah, that’s something to think about.”
“Think about? Hutch, do you hear me? All you have to do is rebrand yourself a little and you can come back.”
The idea is dead on arrival. I don’t want to rebrand my image by getting into a relationship, and now I’m going to be late for school.
“Okay, cool. Lots to think about but I gotta go, Aaron.” I pull back onto the street, spending the next mile talking myself into loving my life as is and pushing the conversation from my mind.
When I get to the school, there’s a portable rock climbing wall, a big bouncy castle, a face painting booth, the dunk tank, and a bunch of small game booths in various stages of being set up.
The landscaping around the property was originally done with the assisted living center aesthetic in mind: trees, big bushes, and flower beds.
The PTO has a student-run gardening club that helps keep the grounds nice, and tonight they’ve strung lights through the red and orange-leafed trees, draped spooky spiderwebs on the bushes, and placed headstones and skeleton bones around the mums and dahlias. It’s a kid’s dream.
“There you are!” Jen says, like she’s been searching forever for me. She wastes no time grabbing my arm and pulling me toward my station. “We are so lucky the weather has stayed warm for late October. It’ll make your life less miserable tonight.”
I don’t like the sound of that.
In the center of the field is a large rented dunk tank that’s been given a facelift.
The background is a pirate ship and the base around the tank has been transformed to an under the sea aesthetic.
Where I sit is a wooden plank, from which I’ll fall into the tank of water below.
Jen explains how kids and adults will be given the opportunity to throw three coconuts at the bullseye to drop me.
“You’ve really leaned into the assignment with that costume, Coach,” Jen says.
I shake loose from her grip and give her a sarcastic smile. “It’s about the kids, right? Anything for them.”
We reach the dunk tank and Nola’s waiting for us, dressed in a warm onesie parrot costume.
She looks as ridiculous as she did dressed up as Ben Franklin.
Jen stands us side-by-side and inspects us up and down.
She motions for us to move closer together so we’re almost touching and snaps a picture.
“I’m going to throw this up on the school website.
” Jen glances at her camera roll. “These look great! You guys really nailed it! Any questions?”
Before we can ask anything, she says, “Great!” and goes off toward the rock climbing wall, leaving Nola and me alone.
I haven’t seen her since she berated me about Emma’s grade and then stormed off.
I’m sure I should be the one to break the ice, but there’s nothing I can say to this woman to make her like me since I didn’t agree to the make-up run.
Instead, I walk over to the tank and check out what I’ll be working with tonight.
“Mom!” Mad scientist Emma runs up to us with a group of fifth graders all decked out in various versions of Barbie. “How much money can I spend tonight?”
“I already bought your tickets, monkey. They’re right here.” She pulls a stack of old-school carnival tickets from a canvas tote and hands them over to her daughter, whose face lights up.
“You’re the best!” Emma squeals.
“Coach, we’re coming for you!” Eighties Exercise Barbie Reese warns me with a withering stare that should worry me. She rolls her shoulder forward and back. “I’ve been practicing my pitching all afternoon.”
With an attitude, I lean into my pirate self. “Aye, those sound like fighting words, me mateys.”
Cowgirl Barbie puts her balled-up fists on her hips defiantly and levels a glare my way. “You gave our friend a B and you’re going to pay for it.”
A small smirk graces Nola’s face as she stacks the coconuts into a pyramid on the table.
“Alright girls, that’s enough. You’ll have your turn to dunk the pirate soon.
Why don’t you go ask Jen or Principal Bennett if they need any last-minute help?
Things should kick off soon and I need you to stick together while I’m over here all night, okay? ”
They promise, but before they can run off, Nola pulls her daughter aside. “Em, not too much candy tonight, okay?”
“I know.” She drags out know into at least four beats.
Kissing the top of her kid’s head, Nola adds, “Also, have a boatload of fun, alright? And if you need more tickets, just come find me.”
Emma’s eyes widen with glee. “Love you, Mom!” she declares and runs off, leading her pack over toward the bouncy castle where Principal Bennett is.
Nola watches her with a smile on her face before picking up a Costco-sized bag of chocolate coins and opening the drink cooler-turned-treasure chest on the ground.
I adjust my captain’s hat and push the attached dreadlock wig out of my face. “She’s lucky to have you for a mom.”
This observation stops her mid-pour, and she tucks a loose hair back under the parrot-head hoodie. “Thanks?” she says like a question.
“I mean it.” Emma only thinks her mom is the best because Nola gave her a bunch of tickets to get cheap prizes and trash food.
What I see is a mom who showed up. That’s something we never had in the Hutchings family.
Nola’s a single mom, so I’m willing to bet she has a million other things she should be doing or would rather be doing, but the fact of the matter is, she’s chosen to overheat in that onesie while working her child’s school carnival.
“I asked around about you,” she says, changing the subject.
The comment makes me puff out my chest a little.
Nola’s asked about me. I knew she felt something when she kissed me and yeah, she wasn’t expecting me to be the P.E.
teacher who ruined Emma’s life, but this is good.
Maybe she’s come around to understanding I wasn’t wrong about the grade Emma earned and we’re moving forward.
“You have a bachelor’s in history, but how’d you get the job if you’re not certified?
” she asks, an undertone of accusation in her voice.
The school grounds are starting to fill with people, and she looks around before closing the gap between us and lowering her voice.
“This is a very prestigious charter school and I know for a fact Lisa doesn’t just let anybody teach here. ”
Accusations make me defensive. “I’m certified.”
“You are? Since when?”
“July.”
“From where?” She looks disbelieving.
I wave her off. “Who’s the nosy one now?”
I can’t say I love the way she’s letting me know I don’t belong here.
A cool breeze shutters past our station.
The sun’s gone down and it’s cooling off noticeably.
I’m starting to think I was stupid for showing up to this activity tonight.
And for letting Opal talk me into taking this job.
Principal Bennett hadn’t been keen to take me on, but she did it for her mother.
I thought things were going well; no other parents have complained about me.
I feel I have a good rapport with the students and the staff.
Until last year, I never questioned anything myself.
Self-assurance was something I had in spades, but now? One mom is turning that upside down.
Maybe it’s not too late to become a base coach for the Boise Falcons—working for a farm baseball team would at least get me back into my world of expertise.
Or I could always ask Tom for a job at Gin and Bear It.
I don’t have time to worry about any of this right now, though, because here come our first students of the night.
“I’m ready.” Reese hands over her tickets and grabs a coconut, tossing it from hand to hand. “Time for you to walk the plank.”
I climb into position and brace myself for what’s coming. Channeling my best Jack Sparrow in a warbling, drunken British voice, I call out, “This is the day you will always remember as the day you almost caught—”
“Hang on, kids, gotta test it first for safety,” Nola says, punching the bullseye with the side of her fist and launching me into the cold.