The Lakeside Conspiracy (7 page)

And then everyone looked to Max. He looked at the players in front of him. They had played their hearts out. A few were injured and had icepacks wrapped to wrists or ankles.

“Boys, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. A whole lot,” Max said. He looked down at the ground, remembering some of them. “And I’ll make some more. So will you.”

The Siloam Springs band finished their last song. A final, loud cheer went up from the home fans.

“And there are times I’ve wanted to quit. Times I was tired. Times I felt defeated. Times I had nothing left to give,” he said as he looked each player in the eye. “But I didn’t quit. When I got knocked down, I got back up. When I got knocked down again, I got up again. I’ve always gotten back up. Always. And if there’s one thing I can promise you tonight is that we will get back up. Staying down is not an option.”

Some of the players who’d been slumped over were straightening up now.

“Tonight was a loss. And it hurts,” Max said as he pointed to the scoreboard. “But that scoreboard doesn’t tell the whole story and it certainly can’t predict the future. That scoreboard says we lost, but it can’t look into your heart. It doesn’t know when a man has given his all on this field of battle. But I know what I saw tonight. And I know you’ll get back up and be ready to go again on Monday. Our season is not over. I promise you that. It’s not over.”

Max could see some life returning to their eyes.

“Yeah, tonight was a loss, but it was not a failure. It’s only a failure if you let it be. It’s only a failure if you stay down,” Max said. “Life will give you many opportunities to quit, to stay down, to fail.”

Max looked around at the young men kneeling around him and said one last thing.

“Don’t give up.”

CHAPTER 22

By the end of the third quarter, Brick Township had a three-touchdown lead over Toms River East. Chris whispered to Michelle, “Let’s go get some dessert.”

Thirty minutes later, they were each enjoying a glass of wine and sharing a slice of cheesecake in one of Chris’s favorite restaurants.

Michelle finished a bite of cheesecake. She wiped her mouth and then took a sip of wine. “I told him I wasn’t coming back,” she said watching Chris closely to gauge his reaction. He definitely looked surprised.

“How did he react?” Chris said.

“To be honest, I think he was shocked,” she said. “Which I can’t understand.” She thought for a moment. “He really didn’t say much.” She paused again. “Of course that’s no different than the last three years.”

“Now what?” Chris asked. “What did your parents say?”

“I haven’t told them yet. I’m not looking forward to that.”

Chris’s phone buzzed indicating a new text. He glanced at his phone, which was on the table. “Weather alert,” he said. “The tropical storm was upgraded to a hurricane.”

“Is it headed here?” she said.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said. “There’s a watch out for the Florida, but not this far north. There’s another one forming out in the Atlantic though.”

They finished off their cheesecake and wine. The server asked if they wanted more, but they both declined. She left the check and went to check on another table.

“What about your job?” Chris said.

“They’ll find someone to replace me,” she said. “It’s a college town. There are always more teachers than jobs.”

“Will you try to teach here?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll look into what’s required to transfer my teaching license.” She looked around the room at nothing in particular. “I just didn’t see myself being in this situation.”

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I’ll do anything I can.”

Chris looked at his phone to check the time. He dropped a couple twenty-dollar bills on the table and said, “Let’s go do something fun.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“You’ll see. Come on.”

They left Michelle’s car at the restaurant. Twenty minutes later, they were at Pt. Pleasant Beach. Chris parked the car, opened Michelle’s door and helped her out. They walked up to the boardwalk, then down onto the beach where they slipped their shoes off.

The sound of the waves washing onshore and the cool sand underneath her feet brought back memories of the long walks on the beach with Chris. As they walked, Chris shared more about the last fifteen years of his life.

After he and Michelle had broken up after high school, he’d gone to college and then moved to Brick and started teaching. He started dating, Cindy, a science teacher about a year later. They got married the next summer.

Chris talked about how much he loved her and loved being with her. They worked out together. They cooked together. And they were careful with their money, which allowed them to travel during the summers. They went to Europe, Costa Rica and Hawaii. They were making plans to go to Paris for their fifth anniversary.

The night before they were to leave for Paris, Cindy was on her way home from the store where she’d picked up a few last minute items. About a mile from their house, a drunk driver ran a red light and hit her right in the driver’s door.

A policeman who knew Chris and Cindy happened to be right behind her when she got hit. He called for an ambulance. When he got out and saw who’d been hit, he also called Chris.

“I got to the scene no more than five minutes after the accident,” he said. “The ambulance hadn’t even arrived yet.”

They walked in silence for a moment while Chris tried to continue. “The policeman who called me told Cindy I was on my way,” he said. “I think she tried to hold on until I got there. She was barely breathing,” he said. “There was no way to get her out of the car. I’ve never felt so helpless.”

They walked a little further.

“I could hear the siren of the ambulance coming, but I knew she wasn’t going to make it,” he said. “I told her I loved her and how happy she made me. I leaned down and kissed her lips. In barely a whisper, she said, ‘I love you so much.’ And then she stopped breathing.”

As they walked, Michelle reached over and took Chris’s hand in hers. At that moment, a thousand miles away, Siloam Springs was returning a kick-off to beat Lakeside.

CHAPTER 23

Normally, Max would have started breaking down game film on Saturday morning. Not today though. He needed some time away from the field house and football. He loaded up his fishing gear, got in his truck and headed to his favorite fishing spot. It wasn’t far from his house, but it was secluded and he’d never seen anyone else there.

By 8:00, Max was standing on the shore of a little cove with his first cast already in the water, sipping on a cup of hot coffee he’d picked up at a country store on the way. He sat down on the bank and watched his bobber float on the still water. This was just what he needed. He slowly reeled his line in, saw his bait was still good and cast again.

“Nice one,” a voice said from behind him.

Max turned around to find an older gentleman carrying a fishing pole, a tackle box and a thermos. So much for a quiet morning of fishing. Maybe he’d just tell the old guy he was wrapping up and then go find another spot. Max started reeling in his line, faster this time, so he could leave before the old guy engaged him in conversation. He especially didn’t want to talk about the Siloam Springs game, which in a small town like Lakeside would inevitably come up.

The old man must have sensed Max was getting ready to leave. “You’re not quitting already, are ya?” he said. “Don’t give up.”

Don’t give up?

“Here, have some more coffee.” He handed the thermos to Max. “My name’s William, but everyone calls me Willy.”

“I’m Max.”

“I know,” Willy said. “Tough one last night.” Willy took a sip of coffee. “But we’re not here to talk about that, are we?”

“No, I’d rather not talk about football.” Max still wanted to leave.

Willy baited his hook and cast it about twenty yards out into the lake. Then he turned and looked at Max. “What should we talk about then?” he asked.

Max cast his line about fifteen feet to the left of Willy’s and then sat down. Willy sat down too. “We could just fish,” Max said. “We don’t have to talk.”

Willy’s bobber disappeared under the water. He gave a quick yank on the line and started slowly reeling it in. “Or we could do both,” he said. He pulled a nice sized fish from the water, carefully removed the hook and released it back into the lake.

Well, if the old guy wanted to talk, then Max would just lay it all out there for him. He’d give him more than he bargained for. “Okay Willy, my wife just informed me she’s leaving me. I may have lost my job last night.” Max paused. “Oh, and I think the Lakeside Police might be corrupt.” He paused for a moment, then added, “Other than that, I’m good.”

Willy cast his line again, a little further this time and then sat back down. He removed the lid to the thermos and poured himself more coffee. “Well, that’s certainly more interesting than the weather or how the Cowboys are doing,” Willy said. He sipped his coffee and then said, “What’s the last thing you prayed for, Max?”

“The last thing I prayed for?” Max said. “What does that have to do with anything? To be honest, I don’t pray.” Now he wished he’d left when Willy arrived. He already regretted telling him what he had and really didn’t want to get into a discussion about prayer or God or anything else for that matter.

But then he remembered he had prayed. It wasn’t much, but he had prayed yesterday morning for the first time in years. “Actually, I asked God for help,” Max said.

The two men sat together in silence for several minutes, then Willy said, “Time for me to go.”

“Wait a minute,” Max said. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Willy said. “I have to get home. I promised Rose I’d help her in the yard this morning.”

“Hold on,” Max said. “Why did you ask me about prayer?”

“Max, how about you join Rose and me for dinner on Monday? 7:00? I’ll see if Rose will make her pot roast and mashed potatoes for us.”

Willy scribbled his address on a piece of cardboard he pulled from his tackle box. He shook Max’s hand and then headed up the trail. Max fished for another hour without catching anything, but had the feeling he’d gotten what he’d come for.

CHAPTER 24

Max spent the rest the day watching game film, thinking about Michelle and replaying his conversation with Willy. When he finally looked at the clock, it was 6:30 p.m. He’d worked through lunch and now it was dinnertime. He looked in the refrigerator and didn’t find much. He opened the freezer and saw the ice cream cones Michelle had gotten him along with a frozen pizza. He popped the pizza in the oven and ate two ice cream cones while the pizza cooked.

When it was ready, he cut it, put two slices on a plate and set it at the kitchen table. He grabbed a yellow legal pad from his briefcase and sat down to eat. He took a bite of pizza and stared at a blank page. Whenever his mind was filled with too many thoughts, it always helped to get them down on paper. He finished off two slices of pizza while continuing to stare at a blank page. He got two more slices and sat back down.

He ate his third slice and finished a bottle of water as he started thinking back over the past couple of weeks. Dante’s accident. The strange conversations with Jack. Dante’s mother being scared to see him. After fifteen minutes, he wrote down three names:

Dave Turner

Jack Murphy

Ms. Jones (Dante’s mother)

He stared at the list for another twenty minutes while finishing the rest of the pizza. He tried to think of any connections between the three of them, but couldn’t come up with anything other than they were all related to the football program. He tried to think of any other names he’d missed. Were there any other people with connections to these three who didn’t feel right to him?

And then he thought of one other person and added him to the list.

Me