ROUND TWO OF FREEDOM

2

ROUND TWO OF FREEDOM

So when the resource Officer said she was going to take me into the station, what she really meant was, she was going to read me my rights, handcuff me, then have me sit outside the front office until the real cops showed up.  Two Tubs of them.  Tubby 1 was older, maybe in his 50’s and Tubby 2 was in his 30’s.  Tubby 2 had been on the force at the point long enough to earn the name Tubby.

They walked into the building, holding their belts.  Tubby 2 had a hand on his baton, like I’m going to do anything with my hands cuffed or at all for that matter.

They escorted me out of the building, round two of freedom from the zoo.  I felt the cuffs tighten uncomfortably around my wrists as I heard three more clicks.  I gritted my teeth through the pain as they marched me on.

Nathan was waiting by the bike rack.  Usually he rode his bike in the morning the 8 miles to school then I’d put it in the back of my Jeep and take him home after school.  He assumed today wouldn’t be any different.  That broke my heart.

They put me in the back of their car.  Even Tubs 1 put his hand on my head so I didn’t bump it on the way in.  The resource officer chatted with Tubby 1 and 2 for a few minutes while I baked in the unvented car.  I couldn’t hear them.  The vehicle was pretty soundproof.  Finally Tubby 1 and 2 got in, Tubby 1 drove.

“You’re kind of an idiot aren’t you?” said Tubby 2 from the front seat without turning around or looking at me through a mirror.  “Picking fights with big football players.”

“On your last day of high school too,” butted in Tubby 1.  He did look me in the eye through his rearview mirror, which made me uneasy and I shifted my gaze to the floor.

“Did you think it didn’t matter anymore?  They haven’t even given you your diploma yet and now you’re off to jail.  You must be an idiot,” restated Tubby 2.

“You’ve already turned 18 too.  You could be tried as an adult if the Harper family presses charges,” Tubby 1 butted in again.

The Harper family, that’s Craig’s family.  Dr. Harper was president of the boosters club.  His money was seen everywhere in that High School.  Everywhere but the classrooms and the library, you know, places of learning.  Odd for an educated man with a doctorate, but then again he was also supplying the supplements to his son and some of the other University bound student athletes.

“Now I remember you,” said Tubby 2.

And there it was.

“You played.  You were that receiver.  Man, you had some speed!  What happened?”

“What now?” asked Tubby 1.

“This kid had some hands.  He was a receiver and a corner.  How many interceptions did you have in that final game against North?”

I sighed and looked anywhere but at the two Tubbs.

“I think it was 3 in that one game.  You had a knack for popping up out of nowhere.  Wasn’t that a record?  Don’t you still have the record for a single freshman game?”

Actually it was 4 for that game and 10 for the 8 game season my freshmen year.  The only year I played.  And yes, I still have the records for a single freshman game and season.  I wasn’t interested in talking about it with them though.

“You going to keep ignoring me kid?  I’m talking to you,” Tubby 2 tapped the cage that separated us.

I flinched a little but I don’t think he noticed.  My knee just bounced a little.  My legs always seem to be the first thing that responds.

“Too bad about that other kid though.  The two of you were quite the pair.  Could have taken the team to state earlier than this last year.  Could have had back-to-back wins at state.  You two were a weapon.  What was his name?”

“Leave the kid alone.”

Tubby 2 kept talking but after a while I started to ignore them and take my mind somewhere else.  I looked out the window and just watched stores, houses and restaurants go by.  As well as the city parks Lincoln seemed to have a plethora of.  I’m not sure where my mind was at, most likely nowhere.  I’ve always had an ability to just go blank and coast.  Nothing passed my mind.  Senses are still intact including my hearing.  I could hear Tubby 1 and 2 but nothing said registered.  I suppose it’s like watching a silent film and being able to read lips but choosing to ignore them as well as the title cards, if that makes any sense.

The guy Tubby 2 talked about was my best friend Eddy.  We grew up together.  Met in kindergarten and both had a love for football like most boys in Nebraska.  It was in our blood.  Everyday at recess we played.  If it was two rainy then we played paper football inside on the piano bench.  We were easily the two most athletic kids all the way through elementary.  We played flag football together in third through fifth grade and we played midget together sixth through eighth.  His dad coached us all those years.

His dad who was also Ed grew up in a small town but he led his small team to a state championship.  No ring though since they lost but he was a talented quarterback that was heavily recruited but in the end decided not to play past high school.  He went to NYU and brought a degree back to Lincoln with him.  He worked for the state and he also was the president of the school board of the elementary school I attended with his son.

We never lost a midget football game.  Eddy and I would alternate as quarterback and wide receiver.  His dad would incorporate trick plays for us to keep the game fun.  I wish his dad was our high school coach as well.  We got Coach Sandberg, the freshman football coach.  The first impression I got from him was a joke he told the first day of football camp about this guy who’s on the beach and was told to look impressive, he should put a potato in his pants.  The punch line is he put the potato in the back rather than the front.  The team roared with laughter but in that moment I lost respect for Coach Sandberg.  My grandpa told funny jokes and that joke was crude and simple, and only appealed to dumbasses in my opinion.

He wasn’t a good leader and his play calling was bad. We once had to go for a touchdown on fourth down and 15 yards to win a game when a field goal would have been a gimme.  The reason why we had to go for a touchdown was because he couldn’t figure out how to communicate to the quarterback to spike the ball to stop the clock, we were out of timeouts.  Instead he called a simple crossing route for Eddy, the quarterback stretched the pass out so Eddy had to dive for it to avoid a swat or an interception.  Eddy dove and stretched to catch the ball in the end zone.  Coach Sandberg apologized to the team then told another bad joke in the locker room after the game.

The Head Coach, Coach Knoll wasn’t any different.  He honestly was dumber.  He was a PE teacher and Coach Sandberg was a ninth grade English teacher.  His jokes were cruder as well.  Basically I just wasn’t having fun playing for these guys and I didn’t like my teammates.  Enormous amounts of hazing, wet towel whipping, chewing tobacco and even a bb gun battle at one point.  Eddy was the only thing that kept it somewhat bearable.  Having a friend in a bad situation is sometimes all it takes to persevere.

I guess I’ll dive into it just to get it out of the way.  Eddy’s grandma went to the hospital for a stroke a week before playoffs our freshman year.  We were undefeated.  Eddy went to visit her on a Saturday.  He felt sick Monday and was hospitalized Tuesday.  He was dead Friday of a staph infection.  His grandma died the same day.

We played the rest of the season for him and dominated the playoffs.  I tore my shoulder in the final game, sitting out the last half.  It healed after a few weeks in therapy but I became a loaner after that, kept to myself, spent as much time in the library as possible at school and the next fall didn’t go back to football.  Coach Knoll and Sandberg called my parents daily all summer when I didn’t show for camp, even after telling Knoll I wasn’t going to play.  My dad finally told them to stop and they did.

We finally got to the station.  I was carefully removed from the back seat and taken inside.  They uncuffed me to get my fingerprints.  There were red marks on my wrists and they hurt pretty bad.  They had these new scanners, not the ink on paper method you saw in the movies.  For some reason the scanner couldn’t read my right ring finger.  Several scans later they said they got it but I think they just gave up and took my mug shot.  Lazy.

After they booked me they cuffed me again, this time gentler and in front rather than behind.  They made me sit in a chair at the back of the station.  Right down the middle isle of desks on the opposite side of the front door my parents would soon walk through.  I wasn’t placed there with looser cuffs in front rather than behind for my comfort.  It was all theatrics.  I was staged to draw a reaction from my parents and create an impression to win them, against me.  They didn’t know my parents.