Cryin' in the Rain

"Jimmy, I'm going to stay in school and get my degree," I said.

"And do what with it," he asked. "Stick it on the wall in your living room? You'll make sixty to a hundred grand a year as a grease monk... I mean engineer. If you sign for only one point six mill a year, you would make more per game than you would in a year as an engineer. And we're looking for a lot more than that. You can be an engineer after we retire."

Two days later, our lives changed forever. I can still see that day in my mind. I remember being in the locker room with our coach and our team mates. I remember running out of the tunnel and seeing Gretchen on the sidelines. She stood up and kissed Jimmy as we passed by. The crowd went wild when she handed him his helmet. I thought it was so dramatic that it looked fake. But then Gretchen hugged me as Jimmy ran away from her. She was playing up the fact that the announcers were talking about Jimmy, and I growing up together and playing together for our entire lives.

I had known nothing about the hug, but it floored me. I swear I felt a spark when she touched me. Even when we got the ball, I could still feel the touch of her hand on my skin. I could still smell her perfume and her shampoo.

I was so busy thinking about Gretchen that it took my mind off of the game. That was actually a good thing. Our quarterback targeted me four times in the first quarter. I ran for two touchdowns in the first half and never dropped the ball once out of seven receptions.

Instead of worrying about holding onto the ball, I was thinking about Gretchen. At halftime, we were ahead twenty-one to three. Our coach just told us to keep doing what we were doing.

It was one word that fucked it all up. One very small word derailed the Dylan and Jimmy train that had been a lifetime in the making.

Both teams, facing their in-state rivals were on edge. While we were jubilant, our opponents were frustrated. It was a down year for their program, and their pride was on the line.

I don't even know how it started or what started it. But after a play during which I got another reception for fifteen yards, Jimmy called one of the other team's linemen, a fat bitch. A lot of trash talk goes on during a game from both sides. On the next play, as soon as the ball was snapped, that "fat bitch," who wasn't even lined up against Jimmy, dove at his knees.

A lot has been said about the bond between twins. Jimmy and I are not twins, but we share that same bond. Days later when I was shown the game film, I didn't believe it myself.

But when that three hundred plus pound lineman slammed into Jimmy's legs; I fell too. Perhaps it was a co-incidence. But I was almost thirty yards down field and facing the other direction trying to shake off a defender. I didn't trip over anything; I just hit the ground and grabbed hold of my own knees. The flash of pain going through me was so severe that they sent a trainer to check on me as well.

Things got weird after that. The other team scored and with momentum shifting to their side, the coach told me I was fine and to shake it off and get back out there. He told me that was what Jimmy would want. I ignored him. I took off my helmet and told him I was going to the hospital with Jimmy.

Our parents were on their way. I sat at the hospital with Gretchen. We sat in the waiting room holding hands and waiting to hear something. They got him stabilized. They did X-rays and CT scans of both knees. They had the top orthopedic surgeon at U of M medical center on the case.

Our agent wanted to talk about the game and my first-half stats. "We can talk about it some other time," I said.

"Look Jimmy's plan is different now," he said. "But this may work out in the end. It was going to be a tough sell, getting one team to take both of you in the same draft anyway. So if we get you a deal this year, and you do well. We can get your team to draft Jimmy next year if his injuries have healed."

For all of our lives, Jimmy had been the aggressive one. He was the one who put feelings aside and spoke his mind, but that day I had been pushed too far.

"Look Dickhead," I snapped. "You're Jimmy's agent, not mine. I am going to finish school and get my degree. I was only playing football because Jimmy wanted to. As of now all of that is up in the air. If you continue to pester me, I'll sign with someone else, if I actually end up playing again."

He backed off instantly.

The surgery went well. Jimmy was as cheerful as a character in one of those lifetime movies. He kept asking everyone when he could start his PT. His parents had decided to wait a few days before telling him.

In our day and age with the advances in medical technology and surgical techniques, we tend to believe that anything can be fixed. Every day we hear about athletes who return to their sport after injuries that only a few years ago would have crippled them.

Jimmy's right knee had an LCL tear. It was a tough recovery, but it was doable. His recovery and PT would take about six months, which means that he would be back early in the season the next year. One of the things the doctor was adamant that we understand was that sugary can perform near miracles, but surgeons aren't Gods.

He could make Jimmy's right knee functional again. In time, it would be strong enough that he might, with a lot of work, play again. However, the knee would never be as good as it was before. He would also always have pain in that knee.

It would probably be closer to a year and a half to two years before the knee was settled and fully functional enough that he didn't think about it every time he took a step.

What no one wanted to tell Jimmy was that his left knee would never be the same. The left knee was the site of the original impact, and it had been completely destroyed. The only possible option that would allow Jimmy to have anywhere close to a normal quality of life was a full knee replacement.

Jimmy, with a lot of PT would be able to walk again easily. In time, he would probably walk without a discernible limp. In fact, that fully replaced knee would actually heal faster than the ligament repair would. The problem was that Jimmy would never run again. His football career was over.

He took it calmly when they told him. I was so proud of him, but I felt his pain and wished that I could share it with him. I wished that it had been me and told him so.

The player on the other team was banned from college athletics. There was also talk of a criminal case against him. He was facing assault charges and a possible civil suit by the university and Jimmy's mom and dad.

The day after the game he was found beaten unconscious. Most of the players on our team were questioned and released. After a few days, warrants were issued for some of the members of his own team. He was due to be arrested on the assault charges upon his release from the hospital. Unfortunately, he disappeared before he was released.

Gretchen was there for Jimmy the whole time he was in the hospital. She and I were with him every step of the way as he tried to relearn to walk. One of the most painful things that we had to help him through was the mood swings and bouts of depression.

Jimmy had to rethink his entire life and future. Most of the things that he had hoped for and planned on were simply impossible now.

He glared at us and yelled at us and called us names. He ordered us out of his room, but we always came back the very next day as if nothing had happened.

Returning to school the following September was an enlightening experience. With his inability to play football, Jimmy's scholarship was gone. The University offered Jimmy a position as an associate trainer. The position would have paid his tuition, books, and room and board, just as his scholarship had. It was a really generous offer, and a sign that the school hadn't abandoned him.

Jimmy refused it of course, which meant that his parents had to foot the bill for his classes, books, and dorm fees. It was a foregone conclusion that I would quit the team since Jimmy couldn't play. In a way, it was a good thing. It gave me more time to study and made me eligible for an engineering internship.

Gretchen and I tried our best to help Jimmy with his classes. It was rough for him taking freshman level classes while in his fourth year in college. Even worse was the fact that he was still not doing well. His attendance was also spotty at best.

As it had been mentioned before, Jimmy and I had a bond. And within a few weeks, I felt a disturbance in the force. It took me a while to figure it out. I happened to watch Jimmy's reaction as one of the newer cheerleaders passed us as we walked home one day. Jimmy had his, "I fucked her," smile on his face. My heart went out to Gretchen, but I didn't say a word. I hoped that Jimmy would come to his senses and realize what a good thing he had going for him.

It was late October and halfway through a rough semester when Jimmy had his meltdown. After all of his midterm exams were in, it was clear that Jimmy was struggling in almost all of his classes. Gretchen and I helped with his homework, but we couldn't take the exams for him.

A couple of days later, I awoke to a huge argument with yelling and screaming between Jimmy and Gretchen. At the end of it, he kicked her out of our dorm and told her not to ever come back. They were done.

I got up to drive her home. "Where are you going," screamed Jimmy.

"Jimmy we can't let her walk. It's a cold night," I said. "And it's dark out there."

"I don't care," he said. "It's not your problem anyway. Dylan, don't go all Sarah on me. We have things to do."

Gretchen was in tears. I did my best to calm her down and soother her nerves. We stopped, and I bought her favorite coffee for her. "You know that he'll be back to normal, by tomorrow, right?" I said. "He's been through a lot."

"There are two of you," she said. "Both of you are equally good looking. Why did I have to fall in love with the fucked up one? And now when I need him the most he flakes out on me."

"He'll be fine. I'm sure of it," I said.

"Dylan, what did he mean by don't go all Sarah on me?" she asked. I didn't answer her.

As I drove back to our dorm, my intention was to have it out with Jimmy once and for all. It was time, past time actually to put my foot down. There was no way I could let Jimmy do to Gretchen, what he had done to Sarah.

I ran what I would say to him over and over in my mind on my way back. I used a lot of words like honor and gratitude. I wanted also to remind him that both sets of our parents taught us to be responsible and to treat others the way we wanted to be treated.

However, I was unprepared for what I would find when I walked into our dorm. Our suitcases and a lot of boxes were in the center of the living room. "Start packing, we're outta here as soon as the sun comes up," said Jimmy. "There's too much shit going on here. We need a break."

That started the argument. For the first time throughout our lives, a disagreement nearly came to blows. We finally went to sleep, vowing to continue the discussion the next morning.

I awoke the next morning to the sound of our beater driving away and a sense of emptiness that I had never felt before. I knew that Jimmy was gone. For a long time, I just sat in the dorm, not knowing what to do and unable to process being alone.

The ringing phone snapped me out of it.

"Hi Dylan. Has he calmed down," asked Gretchen?

"Uhm, things are a bit different than they were last time we spoke," I said.

"Well, that's a good thing," she said. "I woke up feeling really weird. I think I should go to the doctor."

"I'll be right over," I said. I borrowed a car from one of my former team mates and drove to Gretchen's dorm.

"Dylan, why are you here," she asked. "Where's Jimmy?"

"Gretchen, Jimmy's gone. I don't know if he's coming back or not," I said. "But I'll stand-in for him until he gets back. You're always saying we're just alike so..."

She picked that moment to run out of the room to vomit into her toilet. I followed her into the bathroom and gathered up all of that beautiful red hair to make sure she didn't vomit all over it.

"Flu huh?" I said. "Are you sure you'd rather go to the doctor instead of just letting me take care of you?"

She turned and looked at me and smiled again. "I sure can pick em," she said. "Two guys and I had to pick the worthless one." She stroked my hair.

"Honest, Gretchen, I've taken care of people with the flu lots of times," I said. "I can handle it."

"Dylan, I don't have the flu," she said. "I'm pregnant. And something doesn't feel right. That's why I need to get to the doctor."

I drove her to the campus clinic. We were referred to a specialist in female medicine, who referred us to the local hospital. We had both spent a lot of time there during Jimmy's injury.

They were very concerned with her symptoms and ordered several tests, including an ultrasound. They gave her a prescription for prenatal vitamins and told her to get as much rest as she could. I took her back to her dorm and helped her gather some of her clothes and then put her in Jimmy's room. I figured that when he got back, they'd be together to talk. However, until then, I was going to take care of her.

I think the hardest thing for me to do was telling our parents what had happened. I guess I took the easy way out in that. I just told them that Jimmy had gone off somewhere, and I had no idea where he had gone and how long he would be gone. I told them that he had become very depressed again once we'd gotten back to school. I guess I lead them to believe that it was still the loss of his football career that was driving him.

Both sets of our parents were very understanding. Both sets of our parents asked me about how my classes were going and told me to keep them informed of what was going on and when he came back. They also both promised to let me know of he came home instead of coming back to school. They both also told me that they knew that staying in school would be hard for me, but I had to stay.

The one good thing that came out of it was that both sets of parents realized that with Jimmy taking our car, I had no transportation, so both sets immediately wired money into my account, so I could buy another car. I ended up buying a used Mustang and was extremely happy with it.

Every morning, I woke up early and made breakfast for Gretchen. I drove her to her classes and went to mine. Even though she hadn't begun to show yet, I treated her like a glass princess. Every day both of us expected Jimmy to show up.

And everything between us was above board. I never tried to make any type of move on her. I did massage her feet every evening and her tummy too. I made sure she took her vitamins and ate healthy foods. I told her that I was only doing what Jimmy would have done if he'd been there.

In my mind, everything was fine. I think that I was taking lemons and making lemonade. I was a real glass is half full type of guy. I saw only good outcomes on everything. The way I saw it, Jimmy could come back any day, and I would be glad to have him back. His loss in my life was the hardest thing I'd ever had to bear.

On the other hand, the longer he was away, the more time I got to spend with Gretchen, and I was crazy about her. It was Sarah all over again. If Jimmy never came back, I would have been glad to spend the rest of my life with her. However, that bond of ours told me that Jimmy would be back.

There were a few things working against us. One was that Gretchen, like Sarah was a very popular girl. She had a lot of friends on campus. And those friends often came by to talk to her. Some of them were telling her things that I didn't want her to know.

I tried to steer her clear of anyone who had bad things to say about Jimmy, and I was partially successful in that regard, but she still started to question him. Some of those same people that I was trying to keep her away from had nothing but good things to say about me. "Gretchen, don't worry," they said. "He's gone and you ended up with the good one anyway."

As much as I wanted her, I didn't want her at Jimmy's expense. And I truly believed that the best thing for their child would be for him or her to be raised by both parents. I could be a doting, and dedicated uncle, perhaps even Godfather. But the best possible scenario would be for Jimmy to come back. Even though that would leave me broken hearted again. I figured that I had gotten over Sarah over time, I could get over Gretchen as well.

Things were going extremely well for us. We grew closer daily. Greta, as I called Gretchen for short was asking less, and less about Jimmy, and more about me. When we watch movies together, she had us sharing a blanket, and she put her legs across mine. Displays of affection like that did not escape the notice of her friends. I even heard her telling one of her friends that she really didn't care if Jimmy never came back.

But then trains always seem to be running fine just before they go off the rails. And so it was with our crash. It was a Saturday morning. It was about four a.m. We had fallen asleep upon the sofa together, while watching one of Gretchen's favorite movies.

I'm kind of a restless sleeper, and it was that fact that actually made things fare better than they could have been. During the night, as usual when we watched movies together, Gretchen had spread herself all over me. It was as if she was trying to lay claim to every square inch of me, but I didn't mind it at all.

I felt moisture, and it awakened me. I got up thinking that perhaps she'd had an accident while asleep. One of the things the doctor told us might be a possibility with some women was a loss of bladder control. I figured I'd clean it up and let her sleep. However, when I turned on the lights, I discovered that it was blood, not urine. I didn't bother to dress. Or even grab a coat. I still had on the sweats that I wore around the house. I just panicked and ran for the car.

During the drive, I did get Gretchen awake for a short time and realized that it was the dumbest possible thing that I could have done. As soon as she awoke, she screamed from the pain she was going through. While carrying her in the emergency entrance, I cut my feet several times on small pieces of leftover rock salt that had been put down to melt the ice from the most recent snowfall.

I actually carried her up to the desk and started half screaming, half crying to get someone to take care of her immediately. Luckily, we were at that hospital frequently and several of the nurses on duty there remembered us both from Gretchen's visits and from our time there with Jimmy.

After a couple of tense hours of me pacing on my cut-up feet, an extremely sorry doctor came out to tell me that Gretchen was stable. She was asleep, but she had lost our baby. I tried to explain to her that I wasn't the father but decided not to bother. It no longer mattered.

She led me up to Gretchen's room and told me I should stay around a while and talk to her and hold her hand. She told me that even while asleep Gretchen would know that I was there, and it would give her strength. She also told me that Gretchen had asked for me while she was losing consciousness from the med's they gave her to put her under.

It was stupid, but I had to know. "What's my name," I asked. "She asked for Jimmy, right?" The doctor looked at me crazily.

"I have no idea who Jimmy is," she said. "Is it your nickname? She called you Dylan." I was the happiest man on earth. I sat there next to her bed holding her hand, without a care in the world. I knew that she would need time to recover, and I was ready to be there for her. Whatever she needed; I would move heaven and earth to get for her. Finally at about two in the afternoon, one of the student nurses that had just come on duty to relieve the early-morning shift came into the room.