The Lakeside Conspiracy (4 page)

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Authors: Gregg Stutts

BOOK: The Lakeside Conspiracy
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CHAPTER 9

 

Dante’s funeral was at noon on Thursday and was held in the school auditorium where they would have normally been having a pep rally. The room had seats for six hundred people and Max didn’t see an empty seat anywhere.

 

A dozen teammates talked about what a great friend and role model Dante had been. Even though he’d only been on the team for a year, Dante had made a great impact. A student from the university who volunteered with Young Life, an outreach to high school kids, talked about how hungry Dante was to learn about God. And Max talked about the great attitude and work ethic he always displayed at practice and in games.

 

After the service, as Max was walking back to his office, he saw Jack Murphy, Bill Jackson, the athletic director, and Donnie Black, the executive director for Northern Arkansas State’s athletic foundation in a heated conversation in the parking lot. He wasn’t close enough to hear what they were arguing about, but it looked serious. Bill had to step between Jack and Donnie.

 

He guessed Donnie had come to represent the university since Dante had already given a verbal commitment to play football there. Max couldn’t imagine what issue Jack and Donnie could possibly have with each other.

CHAPTER 10

 

Like every head coach he’d ever known, Max adhered to a certain routine and rituals on game day. A local restaurant always catered the pre-game meal. Tonight’s meal was pasta with meatballs, bread and salad. The meal wrapped up at 4:30. Players started getting dressed at 5:15. Kickers and kick returners took the field at 5:45. Backs and receivers at 5:55. Linemen at 6:05.

 

They stretched and warmed up as a team from 6:10 to 6:20. During the stretching period, Max shook every player’s hand and handed them a piece of gum. His high school coach had done that and he’d continued the practice with his teams. After running through their offensive plays and defensive alignments, they returned to the field house at 7:00.

 

At 7:20, the game officials brought out the captains for the coin toss with the rest of the team following at 7:25 for the national anthem. Tonight though, Max had moved everything up ten minutes to allow time for the stadium dedication ceremonies. The school board, principal, athletic director and of course, Jack Murphy, as the booster club president would take their places on the field and be recognized.

 

It wasn’t until half way through the Star Spangled Banner that Max glanced over his shoulder to where Michelle normally sat, but she wasn’t there. His heart sank seeing an empty seat where she’d sat so faithfully during every scrimmage and game over the last two years.

 

Even as their relationship began to deteriorate, she never missed. It didn’t matter if it was hot and humid or cold and rainy. He could always count on her being at every game and staying until the end. Until tonight.

 

The home stands looked to be about three-fourths full. For such a small town, Max thought it was a great turnout. They might have had an even bigger crowd, but Bentonville, who was ranked #1 in the state pre-season poll, was playing Bergen Catholic, one of the top teams out of New Jersey. And Northern Arkansas State had their home opener the following day against LSU.

 

Jack Murphy wouldn’t be content with three-fourths. He was sure he’d hear all about in on Monday. If not before.

 

The Fayetteville fans had certainly turned out. The visitor stands were full. Their student section was huge. Your fans don’t mind traveling when you win. It was what he wanted for his program. With a win tonight, it would be a major step in that direction.

 

Fayetteville won the toss and deferred to the second half, so Lakeside would go on offense first. He gave his kick return team some last minute instructions and sent them out.

 

He looked for Michelle again, but didn’t see her. He didn’t blame her for not coming, but it didn’t feel right not having her there. He looked around one more time. Maybe she was in a different section. But he still couldn’t find her.

 

The referee blew his whistle and signaled the Fayetteville kicker to start the game. Kick-offs were always unpredictable when playing Fayetteville. Rarely did they give a returner a clean shot at the ball. Most of the time they kicked the ball short or some kind of line drive right at one of the linemen, which prevented big run backs. It usually meant starting with the ball no worse than their own thirty-five yard line, but with little chance of a big return.

 

The Fayetteville kicker hit the ball square and sent it high and deep. This time unpredictable meant sending a normal kick-off down to the three-yard line where Joe Taylor stepped under it. Maybe it was the new stadium lights. Maybe it was first game jitters. Or maybe it was the inexperience of a sophomore, but the ball went through his hands and hit him on his facemask.

 

Getting hit with the ball knocked him off balance enough that he stumbled and fell. He was scrambling around on his hands and knees trying to find the ball, but it had bounced off his face mask and seemed to hang in the air just long enough to allow one of the Fayetteville players to catch it in mid-air at the eight yard line and run it in untouched for a touchdown.

 

Exactly three seconds had ticked off the clock and the score was 6-0. What had been a deafening roar from the home stands just seconds earlier was now stunned silence. Across the field, the Fayetteville players and fans were going nuts. Max encouraged his guys as they came off the field. He reminded them it was early in the game and they could get that one back.

 

Fayetteville lined up for the extra point and then ran a fake. The holder flipped the ball to the kicker, who started to run right, then stopped and threw it into the end zone to a wide-open receiver. 8-0. Just like that.

 

And that was as close as Lakeside would get. By half-time, Fayetteville led 29-0.

 

Max and his staff made some adjustments for the second half. Joe Taylor settled down by the third quarter and ended up with seven catches for over a hundred yards and two touchdowns. It wasn’t nearly enough. Lakeside lost the game, 50-21.

 

The post-game talk was tough. Max tried his best to focus on the positives and point them ahead to the Siloam Springs game, but even he had trouble believing what he was saying. They’d gotten whipped. Fayetteville was clearly a better team, but Lakeside made them look even better than they were. They’d been out-played and out-coached. And Max put the blame on himself.

 

After shaking the hand of every player as they left the field house, Max told his assistant coaches goodnight and walked to his truck. He couldn’t stand the thought of being the last one in the building again. Someone else could lock up.

 

Of course, leaving now meant having to face the fans who hung around outside the field house after games, most of whom were family and friends of players. Max walked fast and kept his head down to avoid getting into a conversation with anyone. A few people saw him and offered words of encouragement. Max thanked them and kept walking.

 

As he got into his truck, he heard someone call out, “You suck, coach!”

 

 

CHAPTER 11

 

Max turned onto his street and saw Michelle’s car wasn’t in their driveway. It was almost 11:00 p.m. She hadn’t come to the game, but he’d expected her to be at home. He really wanted to see her. More than he had in a long time. Michelle always knew what to say to encourage him.

 

The house was dark and quiet. Max flipped some on several lights and called for Michelle just in case. There was no reply.

 

He tried calling Michelle’s phone, but she didn’t answer. It just wasn’t like her to not show up at the game and to not answer her phone. Especially when he didn’t know where she was. He tried calling again, but it went right to voice mail.

 

He went to the refrigerator to get a beer and saw the note…

 

Max, I’m taking next week off from school. I’m going to New Jersey to see my parents. I would have talked to you about it, but we really don’t talk any more, do we? I hope your game went well. —Michelle

 

Max tried calling again with the same result. He didn’t leave a message. She was ignoring him or had her phone in her purse. Or both. He really didn’t like the idea of her driving 1200 miles by herself, especially at night. He had no idea what time she’d left, if she was driving straight through or stopping somewhere.

 

He could feel his chest getting tight again. He started to sweat. And it was difficult to take a deep breath. He sat down on the kitchen floor and tried to calm down.

 

A few minutes passed and he felt a little better, but wasn’t ready to stand up yet. So he sat on the floor and waited. And thought about Michelle. And Sarah. And how much he missed them. And how he’d give anything to have back the life they had before Sarah got sick. The disappointment of losing so badly to Fayetteville was nothing compared with the pain of losing Sarah, and possibly now, Michelle.

 

How had he gotten to this place? Things that used to be good, were now bad. Things that used to be hard, were now impossible. Things he had figured out, now made no sense. His once strong marriage was now teetering at the edge of a cliff. Maybe it had already slid of the edge. And he knew there was no one else to blame. He’d let things get so bad his wife needed time away from him.

 

He didn’t even have the energy to sit there any longer, so he lay down on the kitchen floor. “You do suck, Max,” he told himself.

CHAPTER 12

 

Michelle left town the minute school got out Friday afternoon. By the time Max realized she was gone, she was already east of St. Louis. She’d planned to stop for the night in Ohio, but thanks to three cups of coffee and an energy drink, she’d made it all the way to Seaside Park, New Jersey.

 

She arrived at her parents’ home right at dinnertime on Saturday evening, on the third anniversary of Sarah’s death. She’d visited the grave before leaving the day before, but felt bad for not being at the cemetery on the actual anniversary. The thought of going alone again was too much though.

 

She’d purposely left her phone off during the drive so she wouldn’t hear Max endlessly trying to call her, which he had done. When she finally turned her phone on, she saw eleven missed calls from him, but no voice mails. She wondered what that said about someone who’d try calling eleven times, but not leave one message.

 

Her parents lived on Island Avenue just a block from the beach. They’d moved there after her dad had retired after almost thirty years working in the public schools. Hurricane Sandy was devastating to the area, but many homes had already been rebuilt. It took her parents a year to get the house back in shape, but it looked better than ever.

 

She hadn’t told her parents she was coming, so they were shocked to see her standing at the front door. She had protected them from much of the past few years. She didn’t want them worrying about her. They were perceptive enough to know things weren’t great with Max, but they didn’t know how bad it actually was.

 

That first evening, they let her share what she was ready to share. They asked questions, but didn’t press when they could see she wasn’t ready to discuss certain topics.

 

On Sunday morning, she went to church with them. It felt good to have someone to sit with. Max had quit going with her after Sarah’s death. There were some awkward moments when people asked about Max, but it wasn’t terrible. After church they went for a walk on the boardwalk and ate lunch at the Sawmill, their favorite pizza place.

 

As they ate, her dad said, “Shelly, you know your mom and I are here for you. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

 

“Thanks, Dad,” she said. “I know.”

 

“Can I ask you what your plans are?” he said. “I mean, as far as you and Max are concerned.”

 

She was about to tell them about the note she’d left for Max and what she’d been processing on the way to see them when her mom’s phone started buzzing. She picked it up and said, “It’s Max, baby.”

 

“Should I answer it?” her mom asked.

 

Michelle was caught completely off guard. She hadn’t answered his calls or texts, so now he was calling her parents. “I’m not ready to talk to him, mom,” she said.

 

“Does he know you’re safe, Shelly?” her dad asked.

 

“I haven’t had any contact with him since Thursday night,” she said.

 

“Martha, answer the call,” her dad said. “Tell him Shelly is with us and that she’s okay. She’ll call him when she’s ready.”

 

“Thanks, dad,” she whispered as her mom answered the call and put the phone to her ear.

 

Her mom was polite, but firm. Michelle couldn’t hear Max’s side of the call, but her mom was clear in letting him know Michelle wasn’t ready to talk. Her mom ended the call by telling Max she loved him.

 

After the call, they finished eating and then started the walk back to the house. It always felt good to be back at the beach. Michelle loved Northwest Arkansas, but really missed the ocean. She also loved being a teacher, but it was nice to know she didn’t have to wake-up at 6:00 the next morning. After explaining the situation to her principal, he was gracious in letting her take a week off right at the start of school.

 

When they got back to the house, Michelle excused herself to take a nap. She hadn’t quite recovered from the long drive. She thanked her mom and dad for being so supportive, then went to her room. She closed the door and took her phone out of her purse. She looked at three more missed calls from Max that had come in right before her mom got the call.

 

Michelle thought about calling him back, but didn’t even know what she’d say. She thought for a moment, and then scrolled through her contact list until she found the number she wanted. She looked at the name, and then touched the screen to make the call.

 

After several rings, the call was answered. “Hey Chris…it’s Michelle.”

 

 

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