The Lakeside Conspiracy (3 page)

CHAPTER 5

Max arrived at the field house the next morning at 6:15, earlier than normal. He hadn’t slept much and wanted to get out of the house before Michelle was up. He knew she needed him, but he had nothing to give her. The thought of having to talk about Sarah’s death made him sick.

The first game of the season against Fayetteville was three days away. He was 0-2 against them in his first two years as the head coach at Lakeside. They were loaded again this year and were ranked #3 in the statewide pre-season poll.

He was busy making some notes on the whiteboard when he was startled by the door being opened. “Sorry, Coach, didn’t mean to scare ya.” It was Dave Turner, his defensive coordinator.

“I’m okay,” Max said. “Didn’t expect anyone this early.”

Dave sat down at the table and said, “You sure you’re okay, Max?” Dave asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “Heavy week with Dante’s funeral on Thursday and Fayetteville on Friday.”

“You look like you could use some more sleep,” Dave said.

Dave and Max had joined the coaching staff six years earlier. Max ran the offense and Dave ran the defense. When the previous head coach retired, they had both interviewed for the position.

Max got the job, but kept Dave on as the defensive coordinator. A move he’d often regretted over the past two seasons. Dave was a good coach. He was a great coach, in fact. And yet, there was something about him Max didn’t like. He couldn’t ever put his finger on it—he just felt like Dave Turner was someone you couldn’t turn your back on.

Dave left and shut the door behind him. Max was about to get back to his meeting prep when the door opened again.

It was Jack Murphy. “Hi Max,” he said. “Thought I’d stop in for a minute.”

“Hey, Jack,” Max said. “We’ve got a coach’s meeting in a few minutes I’m trying to get ready for.”

“Oh I know,” Jack said. “I won’t keep ya. Just wanted to wish ya good luck.”

“Okay, well thank you, Jack.”

“Yeah, Fayetteville’s a big one.”

“That’s right,” Max said as he continued making notes.

“How’d the team respond to the loss of Dante?” Jack said.

Just as with their last conversation, Max suspected there was something more going on. Jack was fishing for something. He just didn’t know what it was. “It was a shock,” Max said. “They dedicated the season to him.”

“That’s good,” Jack said. “That’s good. I know that will mean a lot to his mama.”

Max continued working; doing his best to communicate to Jack he wasn’t wanted here.

“Found anyone to replace him yet?”

“Not yet. He’s going to be tough to replace.”

“I heard there might be a young man moving to town from the Dallas area,” Jack said. “Good wide receiver. Caught seventy-five passes last year as a sophomore.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” Max said. “How do you know about him?”

Jack just grinned and turned to leave. On his way out the door, he said, “You’re welcome” just barely louder than a whisper.

“Excuse me?” Max said.

“What’s that?” Jack said as he stuck his head back into the room.

“I thought you said, ‘you’re welcome’,” Max said.

“Well, I know you’ve got a meeting to get ready for,” Jack said. “I’ll see ya.”

Max watched as Jack shut the door behind him.
You’re welcome
. What was that supposed to mean?

CHAPTER 6

It was just after 10:30 p.m. when Max got home. He could have worked even later. This week was huge. The Fayetteville game was always a big one, but this year they were also dedicating the new stadium. For Max, this game was everything. A loss would get them off on the wrong foot like the past two years. He couldn’t help thinking his job was on the line this year. The Fayetteville game would set the tone for the season.

Staying late to work on the Fayetteville game plan was only an excuse though. He knew that. Working late to avoid another uncomfortable evening with Michelle was easier than going home. It was getting awkward to even be in the same room.

He walked into the living room where she was reading a book and drinking a glass of wine. He couldn’t just ignore her, but he had no idea what to say, so he just sat down in the recliner on the opposite side of the room.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said without looking up from her book.

“Good book?” he said.

She took a sip of wine and said, “So far.”

“Good,” he said. “That’s good.”

She read several more pages then set the book down next to her on the sofa. “Is there something you wanted?”

He tried to think. What did he want? To apologize? To tell her he was just trying to hold himself together and had nothing for her?

“Look Max, if you have something to say, please say it. Otherwise, I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

But he didn’t even know what to say any more. What did she even want to hear?

“I’ve got school in the morning,” she said. “Goodnight.”

“Wait.”

“What, Max? What is it?”

What could he say to make things better? Was there even anything left to say?

Michelle stood up. She looked at him from across the room. And then he watched as she slowly shook her head and walked away.

“Michelle, wait.”

She stopped and looked at him.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked. “I’m sorry?”

She looked at him. He could see the sadness on her face. He realized in that moment that sad was how she always looked around him now.

“Do you really want to know, Max?” she said. “I don’t want you to say anything right now. I want you to be with me. I want to know I still matter to you. That you still care. About us. Because for the last few years, you’ve been absent. And I don’t want to be alone any more.”

“You do matter,” he said. “I do care.”

Michelle knelt down in front of Max as he sat in the recliner. She took his hands in hers. “Do I matter more than football, Max?”

He looked away, unsure how to answer. “Do you want me to quit coaching?” he said. “Is that what you want?”

She took his face in her hands and made him look at her. “I don’t want you to quit coaching,” she said. “I know you love it.” She paused and said, “I just want you to stop hiding behind it.” She gently kissed his forehead and went to bed.

“You had your chance, Max,” he said quietly to himself.

CHAPTER 7

Michelle was in the shower when Max left the house. He could feel her slipping away and there was no one to blame but himself. And yet he wasn’t sure where to even begin repairing the damage he’d done.

Through the ups and downs, the wins and losses of the past two years, he’d always been there for his team. He’d given everything he had to keep them focused, to keep their spirits up, to keep their eyes fixed on the goal. He was there for the team. He just hadn’t been there for Michelle.

He knew he’d pulled away during Sarah’s illness. And after she died, he retreated. He’d let Michelle grieve alone. She kept reaching out to him, but he couldn’t help her. He couldn’t go there. He couldn’t think about the year Sarah was sick. He couldn’t go back there. No amount of talking or feeling or processing would bring Sarah back.

As he drove past the scene of Dante’s accident, he thought about how nothing would bring him back either. Dante wasn’t coming back. Sarah wasn’t coming back. And he was pretty sure his marriage wasn’t coming back.

Max thought about all those sermons he’d listened to about how God could do anything, how he was pleased by faith, how he delighted in answering prayer. But where was he when you really needed him?

He used to believe it all. Until Sarah died. And he still believed God existed, he just didn’t want anything to do with him. It made no sense to pray to a God whose actions were so unpredictable and arbitrary. One person gets well. Another dies. There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason to it all. He thought about his friend Jerry who died from colon cancer. Jerry prayed. Jerry had faith. And Jerry left behind a wife and two children.

Max pushed those thoughts aside. There wasn’t time to go down that path. Not now. Not ever. This was Fayetteville week. He hoped Lakeside fans would turn out in force. There was no doubt Fayetteville fans would show. They were hungry for a third championship.

Max turned into the parking lot, looking forward to a cup of coffee and an hour of alone time in his office. That would have to wait though. There was a police car waiting in front of the field house.

Max parked and got out of his truck. He watched as two policemen got out of their car. “Coach Henry, we have a situation,” the older of the two said.

“Come on inside,” Max said. He led them into his office and shut the door behind them, then closed the blinds. “Can I get you guys some coffee?”

Both men declined. “This won’t take long, coach,” Terry Cook, the police chief said. Max knew Terry, just not very well. He had played football at NASU a few years before Max. “Like I said, coach, we’ve got a little situation we need to bring to your attention.”

“Whatever I can do to help,” Max said.

“Well, we arrested a couple of your boys last night,” Cook said. “They broke into a house and set off the alarm. They were picked up thirty minutes later with some cash, jewelry and electronics in their car.”

Max could feel his heart sink. “Damnit.” This was the last thing he needed. “Who was it?” he asked.

“Blake Collins and Jared Wilson,” Cook said.

Max slammed his fist on the table. Blake was a junior and his starting tight end. Jared was a senior and the starting right tackle.

“They’ll appear before a judge later this morning. He’ll set bail. They’ll be out by 10:00,” Cook said.

“What the hell were they thinking?” Max said to himself.

“We could have taken care of this quietly, but the homeowners are pretty upset,” Cook said. “Sorry, coach, but there’s nothing we can do.”

“Alright guys, I appreciate the heads up,” Max said.

Max walked them out to their car. Just before they left, he said, “Terry, are you familiar with the investigation into Dante’s accident?”

“What about it?” Terry said.

“I was just wondering about the cause of the accident. I heard on the news that Dante lost control and hit a tree.”

“Yeah, that’s what happened,” Terry said. “Must have fallen asleep.”

“Oh, okay,” Max said. “So the damage to the rear end of the car didn’t mean anything?”

Max saw the officers exchange a quick glance. “There was only front end damage, coach,” Terry said.

Max didn’t press it further, but knew he’d just been lied to.

CHAPTER 8

Max had no choice but to suspend both players. They hadn’t been convicted of anything yet, but he couldn’t play two guys who’d been arrested for burglary. How would that look?

Not only would it look bad in the community, but it would send a terrible message to his team. Max had always stressed integrity and representing the team well on and off the field.

Max called the two players to his office at noon and informed them of the suspension. At a minimum, they would miss the first four games. Depending on the outcome of the legal proceedings, they might be off the team permanently. They’d be lucky to even stay in school. Both boys apologized and understood the decision. Max instructed them to not come to practice until they heard from him.

After school, while the rest of the players dressed out for practice, Max met with the coaches to begin adjusting the game plan to account for their starting tight end and right tackle not being available.

Most of the team had heard already, but Max needed to talk to them himself. They’d overcome adversity before. This time would be no different. He’d always told his teams that getting knocked down was part of football and part of life. Staying down was a choice. So was getting up, getting stronger and moving forward.

Max pulled the team together before heading out to practice. He was about to update them on the situation with Blake and Jared when Jack Murphy came through the door at the back of the room. “Got a minute, coach?” he said. All eyes turned toward Jack.

“We’re in the middle of a meeting, Jack, and then we have practice. It’ll have to wait,” Max said.

“Let’s meet in your office,” Jack said, ignoring what Max had said.

“I said it’ll have to wait” Max replied with an edge to his voice.

“Well, alright coach, I thought I’d let you inform the team, but I’ll just do it myself,” Jack said. “The charges against our boys were dropped thirty minutes ago.” Jack paused for affect, then said, “Come on in boys.”

Blake and Jared stepped into the room to wild applause from their teammates. They looked a little sheepish at first, but were soon enjoying the attention like they were returning war heroes rather than two guys who’d just been arrested for burglary.

Max looked at his coaching staff who seemed just as stunned as he was. When the room settled down, Max was too angry to even talk to Jack. He led the team outside to the practice field. Blake and Jared followed five minutes later.

Practice went on as if nothing had ever happened. Max felt conflicted about playing them, but without any charges against them, he didn’t have grounds to suspend them.

As usual, Max was the last one left in the field house that evening wrapping up the plan for tomorrow’s practice. Something was off though. Something didn’t feel right.

His chest felt tight. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His office felt oppressive. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down. He was either having a heart attack or was letting the stress get to him. He took several slow, deep breaths.

Ten minutes later he didn’t feel any better, but was pretty sure he wasn’t having a heart attack and concluded it was stress. He tried to think calming, relaxing thoughts, but his mind was swirling. One thought led to another, which led to another. He wished he could just shut his mind down and re-boot.

Maybe he just needed to call it quits for the night. Tomorrow was a new day. He summoned the strength to make his way to his truck and head home.

It was almost 8:00 p.m. when he shut off the light to his office and heard himself say, “You’re a failure, Max.”