Page 45 of Shame the Devil
“Come on, Annabelle,” Axel said, still sounding jovial, but with that hard edge to it. “Nobody wants to hear you yammering about animals. Harlan came to talk to the town, not his little sister. And to show off his new lady friends.”
Harlan thought Jennifer might be a little flushed, but that was probably just the cold, because her voice was cheerful when she told his sister, “If you were me, you wouldn’t want to see a bison up close, either. You know how I actually met Harlan? When he threw himself between me and a charging bison. Well, between me and a charging snowmobile, but the snowmobile was running from the bison, so … same thing. It was the bravest and the craziest thing I’ve ever seen. It was my first day skiing, and I sure wasn’t going to be able to get out of the way by myself. I’m not sure I’d even be alive if it weren’t for your brother. I know I’d be in bad shape, anyway. So when he asked if we wanted to come along for this trip, because he wanted some company for the ride, well … I wasn’t going to say no.” She gave Annabelle a sunny smile. “I’m glad to have somebody to talk to about it who might actually be scared if it happened to them. As it was, I was the only one. Everybody else seemed to think it was just some great adventure.”
“Wait,” Dyma said. “Hold on, Mom. Are we just supposed to ignore that this guy just implied that we’re both sleeping with Kris … with Harlan, and he doesn’t even know our names? That we’re some kind of slutty, disposable … what do you call football groupies?” she asked Owen.
“Groupies,” he said. “Jersey chasers. Whatever.” Harlan wanted to say,Don’t say that in front of my little sister,but Dyma was right. His dad had already said it.
“What youshouldcall them,” Dyma said, “is women who are happy to sleep with you. Luckily for you. And if they’re slutty, what are you?”
“Good point,” Owen said, still sounding calm. But then, it wasn’t his family.
“Dyma,” Jennifer said. “It’s all right.”
“It’s all right?” Dyma said. “How? You flew halfway across the country so Harlan would have company, and his dad insulted you. After we justtalkedabout this, about how you don’t have to feel this way anymore! After you’ve spent the last nineteen years doing it, and you’re going to let him do it again?”
“Baby,” Jennifer said, “no. I can take care of myself.”
“Fine,” Dyma said. She had her arms crossed. “Then you should start doing it. But I’m going to take care ofmyself, too, and tell this guy that, no, my mom and I didn’t both sleep with your son. That’s disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself, insulting my mom like that. And I’m in high school, so you’re probably insulting your son, too. Not to mention being really gross. Never mind. No point. I’m starving. I need to try to find some food I can eat.”
Harlan said, “I’m on it. Hang on one second. Owen, could you …”
“Don’t worry, man,” Owen said. “I’ve got this.”
Harlan took off, but turned back after a couple steps, grabbed the beer from Jennifer, thrust it into Owen’s hand instead, then took Jennifer’s hand and said, “On second thought, come with me.”
Owen would take care of Dyma, and he’d take care of Annabelle, too, if it came to that, but damned if Harlan was leaving Jennifer here with his dad. Damned if he was.
* * *
Jennifer said, “Kris—Harlan. Wait.”He was pulling her through the crowd so fast, her bratwurst slipped off her paper plate. She’d love to think she was too upset to care, but it had been a really good bratwurst. Besides, Dyma was right. Shewasused to hearing this kind of thing, and if she was upset, it was for Harlan, because his dad was a major jerk.
She could hear it. She didn’t have to wear it. She could listen to that and eat a bratwurst any day of the week. She wasn’t in Wild Horse anymore.
“What?” Harlan said, then stopped and turned to her. “Too fast? Sorry.” He ran a gloved hand over his head. “I keep forgetting I don’t have hair,” he muttered.
What? Was he having some kind of psychotic break from the stress? How bad had his life herebeen?“You do have hair,” she assured him. “You’re just wearing a hat.”
He stared at her, then laughed. “No. I’m just …” He took a breath, blew it out, and said, “Right, Kristiansen. You aren’t actually all that. Also—Dyma. Food.” Some new Michelin-Man figure with a walrus mustache came up to shake his hand, and he told the guy, “Hang on a second, OK, Alan? I’m on a mercy mission here.” Then he took Jennifer’s hand again, said, “Right. I’m walking slower,” and steered her towards a sort of stage at the end of the parking lot. “I used to have long hair, that’s all. It was sort of my thing. The Viking. Never mind. You don’t need to know that. I need to go do this deal now, though.”
He still looked a little worried. She said, “Go ahead. I’m fine.”
“Ten minutes,” he said. “I promise.” Then he leaped up onto the stage in a couple strides, grabbed a microphone, and said, “Hey, everybody. Good to be here today. If you’ll indulge me, I’m going to take a second to talk to all of you.”
It took just about that long for the entire parking lot to fall silent. Harlan said, “First off—anybody grilling anything out there that isn’t a meat product? Got some hot mac and cheese left over, maybe? I brought some friends with me today. Owen Johnson, for one, and don’t worry, Owen’ll eat any meat product you got. Lock up your bratwurst. But I brought my friend Jennifer and her daughter Dyma with me, too. Dyma’s turned vegetarian on us, and she’s about starving to death. Anybody?” He looked around, saw some raised hands, and said, “That’s great. She’s right over there”—he pointed—“with Owen and my sister. Take her a plate of food, and I’ll look like a guy who keeps his promises, OK?”
He paused a second, then, took off his hat, stuffed it into his coat pocket, ruffled his short hair, and said, “You know—I said I couldn’t come today, but at the last minute, I needed to show you all my haircut. Some of you knew me last time it was this short. What was I, twelve?” Laughter, and he grinned and said, “Yeah. Been a long time since then, but I haven’t forgotten much. I remember Mrs. Abernathy driving me home from practice, and Mr. and Mrs. Nilsson out here before every game, selling tickets in the freezing cold. Kind of like today. I remember Coach Gundersen making me do fifty up-downs just about every day, that senior season when I thought Iwasthe team and started running my mouth in practice. Remember that, guys?” More laughter. “Yeah, he was tough on me. On us. And he made us, too. He took us to State, and I bet we’ve all held onto the ring that said we did it. I know I have.”
He took a moment, then grabbed the microphone out of its stand and paced across the stage with it, and every person in the parking lot watched him do it. He looked up, finally, and said, “You know … our coaches took us there, and we took each other there, too, maybe, but that wasn’t all. This whole town took us there. You all were always behind us, though you may not want to be so quick to associate yourself with me now, of course.” Another grin, one hand shoved into his pocket, his legs long and lean in his jeans. Bareheaded, like he’d never heard of cold, and confident, like he’d never heard of giving up.
“Something else I was thinking on the way out here, though,” he went on. “You know that thing they say? The thrill of victory, the agony of defeat? You can’t have one without the other, is what I realized. You’ve got to hate to lose so much, you’ll do anything you can to win. You’ll play hurt. You’ll push yourself past anyplace you thought you could go. When you drop a pass, it’s got to burn hard enough in you that you’ll catch two hundred more the next day, trying to get better. You’ll work out in the offseason, when you ought to be on some beach somewhere, working on nothing more than your tan. My buddy Owen said the other day, ‘Nothing good comes easy,’ and that’s just about right.”
Another pause, then. Harlan frowning at the ground, then out at the crowd. He had them in the palm of his hand. Jennifer knew it. Shefeltit. He was talking to half the town, and it was like he was making a personal connection with every individual in it. He might be good at running and blocking and tackling, and he might be great at catching the ball—she was going to take all of that on faith, because she had no idea—but that connection? That was his real gift.
“You know what I realized today?” he said. “All of that—it’s not just about football. The important things in life are exactly the same as when I was on that high-school team. That if you don’t want it, you won’t work hard enough for it, and if you don’t work hard enough for it, you won’t get it. And it’s not even just about that, because it’s not a one-man game, and it’s not a fifty-five-man one, either. There’s the cheerleaders, coming out no matter what, giving their support. There’s the parents and the friends and the boosters, and there’s all your teammates, no matter what number’s on their back, and whether they’re starting or warming the bench, because one thing I can tell you for sure. There’s going to be a time in your life when you’re warming the bench. So—yeah. I learned all the most important lessons of my life right here in this town, and a whole lot of them in this school and in this stadium. How to win with humility, or at least pretend to, because I’m not always so good at that. How to lose with more grace than I’m feeling, and how to own my part in it. How to get knocked down and get back up ready to try harder. And maybe even how to be a decent guy, because that’s the biggest one of all. I learned that from the decent people I grew up around. I learned it from all of you. So for all of you who helped me along the way … thanks. Life’s a team sport. Thanks to everybody here who helped me learn to play it.”
He went to shove his hair back, laughed, and said, “I still keep forgetting. Got to get another embarrassing mannerism, I guess. I’m about to go hop on a plane again, now that I’m done splashing around all that emotion like a guy who’s forgotten he’s Norwegian, but before I do, I want to tell the team, and all of you guys out there who are going to be trying to get onto it, one last thing, and it comes from my heart. When you’re out there on the field in the cold next season, when you’re down on the scoreboard, digging deep for everything you’ve got, doing it for the guy next to you, and for the school, and for the town? Know this. There’ll be one proud Patriot out there cheering you on. I’ll be right there with you, because I haven’t forgotten you. Any of you. And I never will.”
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