A World Without You. A. S. Peterson
it incorrectly and nearly killed it. I had to rub the leaves and speak to it gently just to revitalize the tree.” Then Scott stuffed his hands into his pocket and added, “You wouldn’t believe it, Derek. Yesterday I checked the tree, and it was back to normal. Boy, was that a relief. I didn’t want to have to tell Mrs. Whitfield that I killed her tree.”
That final sarcastic comment blew Derek’s patience and he glared at his friend and said, “Shut your damn mouth or you’ll be seeing my fists.” Something was going on in Scott’s life and Scott wanted to keep it private. Why not just say it straight out instead of making up a damn story?
That was nearly twenty-four hours ago, and for some reason, Derek was still angry as he crossed Elm Avenue and entered the park. He wiped the perspiration from his forehead. The day was already hot and stifling, but at least this park didn’t smell.
Before the basketball game yesterday, Scott had thrown manure on the recently planted grass. Then taking his weed eater, Scott cut the grass below the picnic tables, between the cracks in the basketball court, and alongside the restroom wall. When the guys arrived to play basketball, the smell nearly drove them out. Only Randy appeared unimpressed by the improvement of the park, calling Scott a nerd for smelling up the park before their game.
Ignoring his headache, Derek strolled through the grass to his friends who were tossing the football around. It wasn’t easy being the leader of this group. He had to be tough, and he couldn’t worry about whether or not the guys liked him. Derek narrowed his eyes and waved his hand in an impatient gesture. “Why haven’t you guys started playing?”
The guys looked at one another with raised eyebrows. They knew he was in one of his bad moods and itching for a confrontation. That meant they’d be sticking together when he jumped all over the player who made a stupid mistake.
It only took twenty minutes into the game for Derek to become annoyed. He enjoyed adding cuts to the passing routes and told Jess to run a slant and then cut quickly to the right. Derek threw the ball to the intended location, but his pass sailed into nothingness because Jess ran a slant and cut to the left.
Derek yelled, “What the hell are you doing, Jess? This is the second time today you’ve gone in the wrong direction.” Derek watched Jess brush his palms against his shirt as he walked back to the line of scrimmage. Sure the guys hated his seriousness of the game, but they wouldn’t be any good if he didn’t hound them.
Matt moved beside Jess, followed by Scott, Karl, and the rest. Matt said, “Take it easy, Derek. You’ve been wound up since you got here and taking your anger out on Jess.”
Inhaling slowly, Derek’s head pulsated, threatening to explode any minute. He should have known he’d have no patience to deal with his friends today. Derek snarled, “If you guys can’t even follow a basic play, we’ll never make it to state this year.” He glared at Brett. “Give me my damn football.”
Without hesitation, Brett tossed the ball to him. Before leaving, Derek said, “Keep practicing, you guys need it.”
The guys watched Derek leave the park and cross Elm Avenue. They instantly felt liberated from the constant pressure. Suddenly the morning wasn’t as stifling as it had been a moment ago. Lance spoke first. “I guess Derek will be punching his bag today.”
Randy snarled. “Yeah, with your picture on it.”
Lance shook his head. “No, Jess’s picture will be taped on it.”
The guys laughed, relieved their stress was gone. Matt picked up his ball from the sideline and threw it to Scott who always took over Derek’s quarterback position for his team.
Randy turned his attention from Derek to Scott. He creased his brows, holding back a smirk. Here was his golden opportunity to clobber Scott, his greatest annoyance. He stroked his chin as if thinking. “Let’s play an all-out football game.”
Karl’s eyes widened. “No rules?”
Randy growled, “Rule 1, there are no rules. Everything goes.”
The guys looked over at Scott. They knew he would be Randy’s punching bag.
Karl asked, “So what do you say, Scott?”
Scott observed Randy’s challenging glare. He replied fearlessly, “Let’s go for it.”
Everyone looked over at Matt, waiting for his input. Matt always kept his composure and had a way of organizing the final details.
While the guys waited for his answer, Matt studied Randy’s eager expression, moved his attention to the field, and then looked at his buddy Karl who raised an eyebrow. They both knew that if Scott broke an arm or leg, Derek would be coming to them, demanding to know why they had allowed this game. In no mood to deal with that monster, Matt replied, “There’s only one rule, no tackling in the end zone.”
The group of boys moved toward the center of the field. They huddled together as they placed their right hand in the pile. “Agreed,” they all yelled, pushing down on the mass of hands.
With that one rule established, the game began. After the first snap from Lance, Randy charged forward, noticing how the sun hindered Scott’s vision.
Scott just had time to toss the ball out of bounds before his head snapped back by the force of Randy’s hit on his left cheek. He was then thrown to the ground as Randy landed on top of him. Man, I should be wearing a helmet, Scott thought as he suppressed a groan, not wanting his enemy to know how much pain he felt.
Randy whispered, “Expect more of the same, nerd.”
Scott rolled to his side and forced himself to stand. He shook his head, trying to eliminate the white circling stars. The pain on his left cheek throbbed as he staggered over to the huddle.
Jess asked, “Dude, you okay?”
Scott nodded. “Yeah, run a square out.”
After the snap, Randy charged from the left side. He extended his arm before Scott could get rid of the ball. Randy grabbed the hem of Scott’s T-shirt. With his arm at full extension, Randy whirled his rival like a fan, tripped him, and then shoved Scott’s face toward the turf.
Scott hit the ground, amazingly keeping the ball safely tucked in his arms. On impact, he cut his bottom lip with his tooth. He spit the grass from his mouth, wiped the blood, and returned slowly to the huddle. Even if it killed him, Scott was determined to make a stand against Randy, his despised competitor.
Jess glared at Brett, seeing the blood on Scott’s lip. “Dude, you’re the blocker.”
Envious that Randy was having all the fun, Brett was unaffected. “Oh…sorry, Scott.” He stole a look at Lance who shook his head slightly. Brett knew his friend didn’t approve of his decision to help Randy annihilate Scott, but the best part was—Randy would have to deal with Derek.
After the next snap, Jess tripped Randy before running down the center, giving Scott the opportunity to pass. Jess jumped into the air, catching the ball. He landed on his feet and was immediately tackled by Karl, Matt, Troy, and Adam who dog-piled him.
While the game progressed, the players’ physical combat increased. They pushed, shoved, punched, tripped, bit, dog-piled, and tore clothes. Fifteen minutes before noon, Scott’s team positioned themselves on the imaginary twenty-yard line. After the snap, Scott faded back. He noticed Jess was covered and Randy was charging from the right. Scott tucked the ball and sprinted left with his enemy hot on his heels.
The players watched Randy tearing up the field after Scott. They held their breath, fearing the worst. Positive Randy would crush his hated opponent, they could already feel Scott’s tremendous pain. The guys watched Scott cross the end zone, slowing his pace. They sighed with relief when Randy sprinted past without tackling him.