Twelve Men in the Huddle, page 19
“I hope you’re feeling better.”
“I’m feeling much better,” replied Heather. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”
The two spoke well into the night.
Chapter Twenty
THE FAMILY REUNION
At first Jamal thought it was a dream. The room was dark, except for some rays of early morning sun streaking over a curtain. Two mourning doves softly cooed on an outside ledge. In his arms was the taut body of a young female, their torsos in perfect harmony. The room was absolutely silent until she sighed and repositioned her butt. They were in a perfect snuggle, having reached nirvana, a carefree state of physical union only accessible to the young. Yet he could still smell her perfume, a blended bouquet of jasmine and natural pheromones. He slowly inhaled the fragrance, allowing it to saturate his soul.
“Creak…” went the sound of a door slowly opening.
Neither bedmate stirred.
“Jamal?”
The question faintly registered in his mind, but soon departed. He deeply inhaled again, the whiff of spice an anesthetic. She snuggled even tighter.
“Jamal Lewis, is that you?”
His eyes opened but his body didn’t move. A triangle of light now lit up the opposite wall. He gripped her even tighter and smiled, the fantasy now with audio.
“Creak,” went the door even louder, now wide open, the light undeniable. It caused him to open both eyes and look up, the visual now stark. There, before him, stood the silhouette of a woman, holding a travel bag in her right arm. She didn’t move, yet her frame somehow grew bigger, as if coming to life. With his right hand he wiped some sleep from his eyes. Suddenly the nightmare began.
“Click,” went the overhead light, flooding the room with undeniable shame. His playmate stirred, her body still numb from alcohol.
“I knew it!” screamed Tiana. “You no good son of a…”
“Tiana! What are you doing here?”
Tiana tossed her travel bag onto the bed, striking the body of Lexi Starr. She began an angry rush towards her side of the bed.
“Tiana. No!” cried out Jamal. He frantically kicked the sheets off his body, in an attempt to blunt the assault.
“What… what was that?” mumbled Lexi.
Before Jamal could react, his west coast girlfriend had hold of Lexi’s frame and dragged it off the bed. The whiteness of her exposed buttocks sharply contrasted a deep southern tan.
“Ahhhh…” screamed the cheerleader, still unsure as to what was happening. “Jamal, help! Oh my God!”
The chaos woke Pete in the adjacent room. He jumped up but his left foot was numb, causing him to fall to the floor. Panic raced through his mind.
“You little hoe!” screamed Tiana. “I’ll kick your lily white ass.”
“Tiana, let her go!”
Pete crawled and limped out to the main living room. He looked into Jamal’s room to witness Tiana wildly slapping Lexi in the head. Jamal had just gotten into the fray, trying to pull Tiana away. Lexi remained prone on the ground in a fetal position, holding her arms above her head. She had on Jamal’s t-shirt saying, “Made in L.A.” The beat down continued until Jamal disengaged the combatants.
“Tiana, stop it!” cried Jamal. “You’re crazy.”
“Jamal! Why? Why? I’ll kill her!”
Lexi bolted towards the door, running past Pete. She hit the front door at full speed and sprinted across the street, the t-shirt barely covering her lower torso. In a flash, she vanished over a knoll.
The verbal tirade continued, as furniture began to fly out of the bedroom. A chair smashed into a mirror, sending glass all over the floor. The madwoman hurled a never-ending string of profanities upon Jamal, in prophetic fashion.
“Tiana, I can explain,” shouted Jamal. “Please stop!”
Tiana stormed out of the bedroom and took a menacing step towards Pete, causing him to retreat into his room. Next, she destroyed the kitchen, tossing plates and cups off the walls. Her rampage continued into the living room, where she upended all of the furniture. Only the lack of remaining material goods in her path halted the rant, prompting the tempest to scream out.
“Jamal! What kind of a father are you!”
The front door slammed, followed by silence.
Pete waited a few seconds before opening his door. He slowly stuck his head out, making sure the perimeter was secure. Jamal walked outside of his room. The kitchen was in shambles, the refrigerator being the only remaining appliance still upright. Glass littered the floor.
“Whoa,” said Jamal. “Didn’t see that one coming.” On his face was a look of guilt. “Yikes.”
Pete didn’t speak.
“Sorry you had to see that Pete. She’s got a real temper.”
Pete didn’t respond.
“Wow. I hope Lexi didn’t get hurt.”
“Jamal,” said Pete. “Did she just call you a father?”
“Oh, yea, yea. I think she did.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Well, are you a father Jamal?”
“Oh, yea, yea. I am,” was the response. “I never told you that?”
“No, you didn’t Jamal.” Pete was shocked and disappointed at the same time. “You have a child?”
“Yea. I do,” said Jamal while scratching his forehead. “A little boy.”
“How old?”
“Oh, about two, two and a half.”
“His name?”
“Kobe Jamal. You know, we named him after the …”
“Yea, I know Jamal. You don’t have to explain.”
“We call him K.J. You should see him, a handsome little guy.”
Pete just stared silently at his roommate, still processing the revelation. He wondered if Lexi knew.
“Would Tiana happen to be the little boy’s mother?”
“Yes, she is,” responded Jamal. “She’s a great mom. They live together back in L.A.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yea. I never told you Pete? Are you sure?”
Over the next thirty minutes the two roommates policed up the kitchen area. Only a few plastic plates and glasses remained unbroken. Neither man spoke to the other, Pete being upset and Jamal embarrassed. Next they rearranged the living room, in silence. After breakfast Pete headed over to Dr. Wong’s office, for a nine o’clock appointment, still trying to digest what had just occurred.
Despite the early hour, Dr. Wong was running behind schedule. While waiting in an exam room Pete heard the doctor enter the room adjacent to his. He immediately recognized the patient’s deep voice, which carried through the exam room wall. He tried not to pay attention, but could not avoid overhearing some very personal information.
“Oh, you’re a very healthy young man, Lance Tucker,” said Wong.
Pete couldn’t believe what was transpiring.
“Now I will do a rectal exam…your prostate is good.”
“Have you ever used anabolic steroids Mr. Lance Tucker?
“No,” was the reply. “Absolutely not.”
“Never?”
“I’m being truthful doctor. I’ve never used anabolic steroids. I hate them. I’ve seen them destroy too many athletes.”
Their conversation continued as Pete grew more and more uncomfortable. A knock on the door startled him.
“Here’s your recent blood work Dr. Wagner,” said the nurse quietly. She handed Pete a printout of his results. “I’m sure you would like to see the new levels.”
“Thanks,” whispered Pete.
“Mr. Lance Tucker, have you ever heard of the LMNOP Syndrome?”
Looking down, Pete checked his T:E ratio which was beginning to normalize. His original ratio a few weeks ago was 12:1. It was now 6:1. His breasts were also starting to subside.
“Lots of Meat and NO Potatoes,” shouted out Dr. Wong. “Ha, ha, ha… I’m sorry, but ever since first hearing of it in medical school I have to laugh. Ha, ha, ha.”
The uncomfortable conversation continued next door for several minutes.
“Again, how did you first become aware of it Mr. Lance Tucker?”
“My significant other,” said Lance. “He recognized it first. We’ve been with each other for years, so if anyone would have noticed a change, it would be him.”
Upon hearing this news, Pete felt compelled to leave. Too much personal information was already divulged. He walked out of the room and notified the front desk of a sudden personal emergency. He quickly rescheduled an appointment for next week, and left Wong’s office before Lance emerged.
At one o’clock in the afternoon, Pete sat opposite Dr. Harper in his HPC office. Pete had arranged the meeting to discuss several topics of concern, including his father’s conversation with Dr. Schmeckle.
“Oh my God,” said Harper in a measured fashion. “Is he crazy?”
“Demented perhaps,” said Pete. “Crazy, I’m not so sure.”
“Pete, do you understand the magnitude of the situation? I mean, if this information hits the press, a firestorm of epic proportion will ignite. It will decimate the team and its coaching staff. No one would be spared.”
“Including Connor Kelly,” said Pete.
“Especially Connor Kelly. His career will be destroyed.” Harper stood up and began pacing the room. “Do you know him Pete? This Dr. Schmeckle? What the hell kind of a name is Schmeckle anyway?”
“I’d know him to see him,” said Pete. “He hasn’t taken care of me since tossing me in an alcohol bath decades ago.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have to talk to him Pete. Can I put you in charge of that? You’re from his hometown. Do you think he can travel down here to meet us? We need some fast action. Please contact the man.”
“I’ll get in touch with him immediately.”
“If Coach ever catches wind of this, he’ll explode,” bemoaned Harper while picking up the phone. “Give me a minute to notify Vern Foster, I’ll put it on speaker phone. Hello Vern…”
Pete listened to Harper explain the recent development to the school’s Athletic Director. After a long pause, the A.D. asked both physicians if anyone else knew, followed by strict orders not to discuss the matter in public. Pete went to speak after Harper terminated the call.
“Dr. Harper, do you have time to discuss another more personal matter?”
“Sure,” said Harper. “But Jesus, what can trump that?”
Just as Pete began to speak, the head surgeon’s cell phone rang.
“But why?” asked Harper over the cell, a bemused look on his face. As the conversation continued, Harper mostly listened, furrowing his eyebrow at times. “I don’t understand.”
Pete felt his moment was slipping away.
“Listen, I want you to take some time and think about it. O.K.? Then get back to me tomorrow. How about we meet for dinner tonight?”
Pete sensed more bad news.
“A four o’clock flight. What’s the emergency?”
Harper appeared pale.
“Oh, I see. I didn’t know that. I’m sorry,” said the fellowship director. “Well I guess so. Family is first… I understand.”
Pete had trouble guessing who could possibly be on the other end of the line. He thought of Eugene.
“Well I guess I should say good luck young man,” said Harper. “It’s kind of sudden, but you have to do what’s best for you and your family. Yes, yes, I understand. Good-bye.”
Harper put the phone down on his desk. Pete held his breath.
“Jamal just quit the fellowship,” said Harper. “In all my years, I’ve never had a fellow quit.”
“What!” cried Pete. “We’re not even half way through the year. Why?”
“Did you know he had a kid out west? What the hell is going on here today?”
Pete didn’t answer, allowing the information to sink in. Jamal was scheduled to travel with the team out to Los Angeles in two weeks, for the big Saturday night game. It meant everything to him.
“He said something about his kid being sick and a family emergency. They needed him back home immediately. He sounded kind of distraught.”
“I better get back and help him out,” said Pete while standing up. “He’s a good guy.”
“Yes, yes. You do that Pete. Please, offer him any assistance necessary. I hope his son is all right. A child? Why didn’t he ever tell anyone?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Anything Pete. Let me know if there is anything that I can personally do to help him out. Promise me that?”
“I will,” said Pete while standing to leave.
“Oh, Pete. What about your personal matter?”
“It can wait,” said Pete. “Jamal needs my help. I’ve got to get over there. Did you say a four o’clock flight?”
“Yea, he better hurry,” barked Harper. “Have Grady G. drive him to the airport if necessary. He knows a shortcut. Actually I’ll give Grady a call right now.”
“Right. Thanks Dr. Harper.”
Pete hustled his way around the stadium complex, wondering what the heck was going on. The wheels were starting to come off the wagon. Maybe it was best not to tell Dr. Harper about his physical condition, which appeared to be rectifying itself. But why did it happen? Why wasn’t Jamal experiencing similar symptoms and what about Connor and now Lance? As he came over the grassy knoll, the SUV driven by Grady G. was already coming into view. Outside the apartment complex stood Tiana.
“Hi Peter,” said Tiana with a gorgeous smile on, her teeth large and white. “What a beautiful afternoon.” She wore a tight t-shirt with ‘Love Me’ across the front.
Just then Jamal stepped out the front door, carrying two travel bags. He tossed the bags on a smaller pile of luggage next to Tiana.
“My man!” shouted Jamal.
“Jamal, what the heck is going on?” asked Pete with his hands in the air. “You’re leaving?”
“Yea, yea,” said Jamal with a grin. He hugged Tiana while speaking. “My girl and little boy need my back in Cali. I’ve realized how much I miss them.”
“But the fellowship? What about your fellowship?”
“I’m going to have to put it on permanent hold,” said Jamal. “No regrets. Doc Harper understands.”
“Grandma says K.J. is screaming ‘da-da’,” interrupted Tiana. She was staring down at her cell. “He’s so excited about you coming home. Here, look honey.”
She held out her hand to display a picture of Kobe, holding a basketball in his hands.
“My boy!” screamed Jamal. “He can handle the rock already!”
The whole scene was surreal to Pete. Just hours earlier Tiana had trashed their apartment. Now, she was all lovey-dovey, as if nothing had happened.
“I love you baby,” said Tiana to Jamal while placing her arms around his neck. A long sensual kiss ensued.
“Jamal, what are your plans? I mean what are you going to be doing out west?”
“Working,” said the ex-fellow, his hands still around Tiana’s waist. “An ortho group in Pasadena wants me bad. I start in two weeks.”
“Well that’s nice,” said Pete, now starting to feel abandoned.
Jamal tossed his bags into the back of Grady G.’s vehicle, which had pulled up alongside the group. Tiana hiked up into the front passenger seat, her tight jeans and high heels catching the driver’s attention. She continued to stare at her phone.
“Well old friend, I guess this is it,” said Jamal. He shook Pete’s hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay any longer.”
Pete pulled his ex-roommate back away from the SUV. “What about Lexi? Did you tell her?”
“Are you crazy?” whispered Jamal. “Tiana already deleted her name from my phone. Tell her I’m sorry, but please, don’t tell her about K.J.”
“C’mon cup cake,” said Tiana.
“Be right there snookie.”
“Well I guess this really is it,” said Pete. “Maybe we can meet up in a few weeks when the team is in L.A.?”
“Yea, yea, that would be great,” said Jamal. “I don’t live too far from the stadium. Maybe Harper will let me on the sideline?”
“Did you get everything out of the apartment?”
“I’m pretty sure,” said Jamal as he opened the rear door. “If anything is left, it’s yours to keep.”
“All right Jamal. Good luck.”
As the SUV sped away, Tiana rolled down the window and waved her hand high in the sky. The whole bizarre affair was over, and she had won. The vehicle quickly vanished from sight.
Chapter Twenty One
A SURPRISE GUEST
“Hey Swagner, rub me down,” cried out Tyrone, prone on a trainer’s table. The team just finished a light workout, prior to tomorrow’s trip out west. They were currently undefeated and two games away from the championship, still holding the number one ranking in the nation. Across the training room an army of assistant trainers worked on other team members.
“Not my job,” said Pete, now inspecting Beef’s surgical incisions. The lineman’s post-operative progress was going well.
“Piper, rub down the Twister,” shouted Lance. “Especially his right hamstring.”
“Right,” said Piper. After putting on some gloves she began to massage the Twister’s mid thigh.
“A little higher Piper. A little higher…”
“Knock it off Tyrone,” said quarterback Derrick Smith. The tri-captain commanded the full respect of his teammates, and up until that point, was having an outstanding season. He spoke while Lance was stretching his calf. “Don’t listen to him Piper.”
“Hey Eugene,” shouted the Twister. “How’s your leg?”
“Kiss my ass Twister,” responded the kicker.
“C’mon bro, how many times do I have to apologize? It was an accident.”
Connor Kelly then strolled into the room, wearing a pair of flip-flops and a white towel around his waist. Pete noticed a collection of black and blue welts across his frame, the signs of a marked man. He was staring at his cell phone.
“Hey, an article on Billy Mo,” said Connor Kelly. “Written by that Hal Green guy.”
