Her Game Was Passion Ch. 04

-one-

Fifteen minutes later back in my motel room, just as I opened the door, the telephone was ringing.

"Hello."

"Scott Norton?"

I didn't recognize the voice. It was low and soft, a man.

"Eddie Schwartz," he said. "I use to know a buddy of. yours back in Pittsburgh. I saw your photo in the paper last week. Remember Audie Miller?"

Who would forget Audie? Audie owned a nice cozy little bar. Former fighter, never missed a football game.

"How's Audie?"

"Great. He sold the joint and he's playing golf and trying to keep his waistline down. He said hello."

"What're you doing in Kansas City?" I asked.

"Little business. Little business."

"Say hello to Audie."

"Got time for a sandwich and drink?"

"I'm off the sauce. I got a date tonight."

"I'll be around tomorrow," he said.

"Call me," I told him. That's all there was to the phone call then. I never thought anything about it until later-much later.

Somebody knocked at the door. I opened it. It was Mary Ann. She was all smiles and tit. She walked straight into the room.

"Where you been keeping yourself?" she asked.

I looked at the open door. I wasn't going to close it. Maybe she would get the hint.

"What do you want?" I asked in a tough voice.

She giggled. "Oh, honey." She patted my cheek. "Funny boy. Like you don't know."

"I got to go, Mary Ann."

She rolled her eyes and giggled again.

"You practicing tonight?"

"That's right." I was busy putting on a clean shirt.

"Honey, I'll give you all the practice you need."

I gave her a quick kiss, grabbed her by the elbow and in three steps I'd hustled her out the door. I shut the door and had her walking down the hall. Before she knew what had happened, I'd said so long and was in my car and pulling away from the curb.

It was a nice night. I felt strange, kind of like a kid, a high school freshman, going on a first date. I wasn't sure of myself at all. No passes, I told myself, don't make any passes at her or you'll blow it. Then I remembered something she'd said, about how she was going to explain something to me. Why was she ducking me? Well, whatever it was I wanted to know. You're going soft in the head getting all nervous about a nurse. Sure, it had been a long time since I'd felt nervous about meeting a girl. Second childhood, Norton. The early change.

We went to one of those places that had been a private club once in Kansas City when the only booze you could buy by the glass was in private clubs. Now it was a regular nightclub, all full of trick Victorian furniture made in Grand Rapids, Michigan, to look like genuine gaslight era antiques.

She stared at me after the waitress left.

"Seven-Up?" She gaped.

"Don't smoke, don't chew, and I don't go with the girls who do."

She laughed, then said, "Do you mind if I have a cigarette with my martini?"

"Have a couple of martinis."

"Don't you drink at all?"

"I've done my share."

"The head injury?" she asked.

I shook my head. I heard the drummer, then the electric guitar.

"Dance?" I said. We walked into the other room where the band was playing. Hard rock. I wanted to hold her. That's the trouble with modern dances. You don't get to hold the girl. After about five minutes we sat down. Funny. I looked at her. I couldn't figure myself out. I wasn't thinking about laying this girl. I was thinking it would be just nice to talk to her. No, that wasn't it. I was afraid to think about wanting to lay her. I'd blow my mind. I was afraid to. I was afraid of losing her. You must be crazy, Norton! Since when were you ever afraid of losing a girl? Knock it off. But I stopped thinking like that. It worried me, the part about losing her. I was really afraid of losing her.

"Here we are," she smiled and picked up her martini glass. She clinked it against the rim of my glass.

"Gin?" I asked, looking at her glass.

"Vodka."

She sipped her drink and I sipped mine.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"Didn't you see my hospital records?"

"No. We didn't see any of that."

"You saw enough," I said. She ignored the remark and stared straight at me.

"I've lived all over."

"What're you doing here?"

"One more shot at the big time."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a farm club. Always a chance to make it with the Vikings out of here."

"What are you?"

"Quarterback."

"Why do you play?"

"I like it. It pays."

"You could get killed."

"Sure. Walking in the street."

"Do you always talk like this?"

"No," I said.

"Let's not."

"Fine," I said. "What is the ring?" Mary Derry was very beautiful. I looked at her hair and eyes and her lovely, white skin. She wore what looked like a man's ring on her right hand. It had a crest with wings on it.

"I was going to marry him," she said. She glanced briefly at the ring. "He was a pilot. He shot down in the South China Sea last year."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right. He's dead."

"Crappy war."

"Were you in the service?"

"Three years. It was another war then."

"What did you do?"

"Infantry."

"Oh," she said.

"Let's drop the war. Let's talk about you."

"I said I'd tell you why."

"O.K."

"I can't stand anybody to touch me. Not since he was killed."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just can't stand it."

"I danced with you."

"That's different."

"I see."

"I'm sorry," she said. "You must have thought I thought you had a disease. Who was that girl?"

"Who was what?"

"That terrible girl in the hospital."

"Then you knew?"

"I hated you," she said.

"You don't hate me now?"

"You're not as I thought."

"I didn't ask that girl in."

"You didn't put her out, either."

"I'm only human."

"Subhuman," she said.

"You're going to have me back talking about the war in a minute."

I looked at her eyes. They were beautiful. I reached and took her hand. She didn't move and I covered her hand with my hand.

"Let's get out of here," I said.

"No." she said. She drew her hand away.

"Why not?"

"You know why. Let's dance."

"Wait a minute," I said. I called the waitress over and ordered another round.

When we were in the other room dancing, I said, "Haven't you tried to figure it out?"

"I was very much in love with him. We went together all through high school and college."

"Did you ever sleep with him?"

"Don't talk like that, please."

I was holding her hands. They felt cold. My hands were warm.

"You ought to figure it out," I said.

"I've tried."

"What happens when somebody kisses you?" "I feel rotten. I was never like that."

"He's been dead a year."

"I know."

"You're very beautiful." I took her by the hand and led her back to the table. Our drinks were there. Damn, I wanted a drink suddenly. I felt edgy. No, I felt the desire for a drink, and I fought it off, but I could feel it hanging around the edge of my lips, trickling down into my chest.

"Let's get out of here," I said.

"I knew you wouldn't enjoy it."

"Not your fault," I said. "Come on. Let's get out of here." I stood up. "I want a drink. Badly. Maybe I won't if we get out of here."

We drove across town. It was dark and chilly. I turned on the heater. We passed a park. It was dark and out of the streetlights. I parked beside the curb. I turned and looked at her.

"Look," I said. "I like you a hell of a lot. Maybe I can help you."

She laughed. "Oh, God, you can do better than that."

"I'm not kidding."

I clenched both fists tightly. I thought of a massage girl in Thailand. She had taught me a lot. I counted to five. I unclenched my fists and. stretched my fingers wide.

"What're you doing?"

"Take it easy," I said. "Nobody's going to make a pass at you."

I shook my hands rapidly back and forth. My wrists and fingers felt loose. I turned toward her.

"Take it easy," I said. "I'm not making a pass at you."

"What is this?" she asked. She sounded scared. We looked at each other in the dark.

I lifted my hands. She clasped her face in her hands and drew her head back. I did not move my hands. We sat half-turned, facing each other.

Be gentle, I thought. Make the touch relaxing.

"Close your eyes," I said softly. I brought my hands nearer the side of her face. She did not move. I put three fingers on each side of her face. I pressed slowly and gently.

"Please, please," she said, but did not move.

I made a slow circular movement on each side of her face, two fingers against her temple, my thumbs against her cheeks. I did not rub over the flesh, but felt the muscles move in her cheeks and along the side of her head. I did it three times and then moved my fingers down an inch or two and made the same slow circular motion.

I felt her jaw and face relax. I continued making the same circular motion. I drew my hands an inch away. She did not move. I could hear her breathing. Her eyes were closed.

I lowered the little finger of each hand against her cheek, just grazing her cheek, then drew it back, at the same time ever so lightly grazing her flesh. I touched my index finger upon her cheek and just as it finished grazing her cheek, I gently lowered my middle fingers and grazed her cheeks so there was only one finger of each hand over touching her skin at the same time.

"Ah-hhhh," she said. Then, with all four fingers of each hand pressed together, I ran them smoothly and lightly up and down her cheeks to her temple and down to her chin. I could feel my cock tingling, her skin tingling.

I brushed her lips gently with my lips. Her head jerked back immediately and she struck at my hands.

"You said!" she cried.

I turned away. I didn't say anything. I started the car and drove along the street silently.

To hell with you, Derry, I thought for a second. I was sore at her, but knew I didn't have any right to be sore. She touched my arm.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't. You're nice. Please understand."

"I'm not nice."

"Yes. You are nice. Really, I can't."

I wanted to hold her close, to hold her tenderly, to kiss her tenderly, to feel her heart beating against mine, her lips opening softly, her mouth opening against my mouth.

To hell with it, I thought. I didn't know what her hang-up was. But I was willing to wait. I felt a tenderness toward her I hadn't felt in a long time. I didn't understand it. It had been so long since I had felt this way toward a girl. Screw them and leave them. I did not want to leave Mary.

After a while we arrived at her apartment. I walked with her to her door and she went in and I drove back to the motel. I went into my room. The landlady was lying in my bed. She looked at me and smiled.

"Who's the girlfriend?" '

"Screw off."

"Now you're talking."

She pushed back the covers. She lay there naked. It's true. A cock has no conscience. I could have walked out of the room. But I didn't.

"I'm pooped," I said.

"Tell me another," she said. "You'll feel really sleepy in a little while."

"For Christ sake," I said, feeling my cock getting hard. She saw it happening.

"Come here, Smokey Bear." She laughed.

I tripped on my shoes snapping the lights off and got into bed. It was dark. I didn't have to look at her. She tried to turn the bed light on and I stopped her.

"What's a matter?" she asked.

"I'm afraid of the light."

She laughed and I turned off my head when I started seeing Mary Derry in my mind. It didn't take long. And the landlady was right. I fell asleep in a hurry.

-two-

The next day we started getting ready for our first game. Clemens didn't bring the letter to the field. But it didn't seem to matter. I was thinking about Mary again. I thought I would call her when the team returned from our first game against Decatur. We rode the bus to Decatur. I ate a steak dinner and went back to the hotel. It was kind of a flea bag. Everybody was nervous, walking up and down the hall. I was rooming with Koch. He didn't seem nervous. He went to bed early. I sat up reading, but he wasn't asleep very long and he started talking in his sleep, something about the mine caving in and then he started shouting: "Everybody out! Everybody! Out!" I couldn't take it. I got up and shook him and he woke and sat bolt-upright in bed.

"What the hell you dreaming about?" I asked him.

"I was back in Ely," he said. "And the whole town was falling into the iron ore pit. United Steel had dug under the town."

"Go to sleep."

"That's what I'm trying to do."

"Try a little more."

"Shut up," he said and pulled the covers over his head.

The next morning was cool. We went out to the stadium to work out, nothing special, exercises, tossing the ball around. Back at the hotel, the coaches talked to us. I went up to my room. We would eat about four o'clock.

I was reading when Clemens came in and shut the door and told Koch to leave us alone for awhile. Koch grunted something about sand in his jockstrap and left the room. Clemens sat down on the edge of the bed.

"What about the letter?" I said.

He raised one hand. "Take it easy. We'll get to that. First things first."

"Don't crap me."

"I've got news for you."

"Sure."

"This is a good break."

"Not if you're hooked up to it."

"Kaminski sprained his ankle."

"Get him a doctor."

"You're going to play setback."

"No way."

"Extra hundred bucks."

"Two hundred."

"You sure don't think a lot of your backup quarterback, do you?" I said.

"You won't get hurt. Hell, you ran a lot with the ball in college and high school."

"I was a hell of a lot younger. Hundred and seventy-five bucks."

"One sixty."

"You cheap bastard."

"One sixty?"

"And all the tape I can eat. O.K. One sixty." I didn't give a damn. I knew the plays. Reeves came around and talked to me, wanted me to go over the game plan with Jacko.

"Just tell him to get the ball to me."

Reeves shook his head and went out.

About four o'clock we went downstairs for the pre-game feed. Steak and eggs. It was dark when we came out onto the field into a bowl of light. Reeves had given us the usual crap in the dressing room, how we had to really hustle, put out, make the maximum effort. I ran through the basic plays with Jacko after calisthenics. Then it was time. We won the game toss. We huddled around the coach. Everybody was making some kind of sound to get psyched up. I didn't say anything. For the first time in a long time, I was scared. It had been a long time since I'd run with the ball, and a hundred and sixty bucks wasn't a hell of a lot to get for committing suicide. One good bust and I was finished as quarterback. I wondered how bad Kaminski's ankle was. Maybe Reeves and Clemens were framing me. Good way to ,get me out of the way. No, that wasn't it. They needed me if Jacko got hurt again. I looked at Decatur. My guts knotted. Decatur looked big in black and white jerseys and white pants. Then the sound of the band rose over the sound of all the yelling, just a monstrous thudding. I watched the kick-turn team take the field. I heard the whistle, saw our deep men get ready to receive. The kicker started toward the ball.

On the first play from scrimmage, Jacko gave me the ball. I made two yards. Somebody hit me low and the linebacker gave me a hard-shot in the head. My guts relaxed. Jacko threw to Lennox on an up pattern. It was good for six yards. Jacko pitched out to me and I made six behind a solid block and cut inside and went to their thirty. I could feel we were moving.

Jacko pumped his face mask with one hand. Wide out for Lennox.

"Hit. At a way," Koch said in the huddle. "Good pop Gussy. At a way."

Schaeffer, sliding sideways, faked the linebacker wide and got tackled at the ten. I went up the middle to the four. We were moving sharp. I knew we were going to make it. I felt like I was back in high school. In a way it was a relief, better than playing quarterback. But I can end my playing right here. Last time I'd play setback. Schaeffer dived to the two-yard line. Jacko faked a handoff to me and slid off tackle and went in for the touchdown on one knee. Bowen Hawk came in to kick the extra point. I went out and knelt on the sidelines. The band and blaring and the glowing darkness was full of screaming and yelling from the stands. Reeves knelt down beside me.

"Scott, fire out faster on two-two-twenty five. Go. I mean go."

"O.K."

"All the way."

"All the way," I shouted into the din of noise.

Decatur came back strong. We went into a five-four over shift. The Decatur quarterback, Bob Steele, out of an eight protection, fired three passes in a row and moved to our forty. He went to the ground and we stopped two running plays and a long pass. They punted and Redford ran it back to our thirty. Jacko hit Lennox on a wide out for ten, and then Koch slugged and got caught. I picked up nine. Jacko threw to Schaeffer against a loose-six defense and their secondary had only two defenders to counter three receivers. Schaeffer caught the pass and picked up twelve yards. They stopped us then and we had to punt. I kicked to their thirty-four, and the receiver got nailed after a five-yard return.

Steele moved them in the air, using screens and draws and quick outs. They were on our fifteen. We were off sides. One play. A pass on a drag pattern and they scored and kicked . the extra point.

In the next huddle on our thirty, Jacko said, "B-right-flip 8. On two." He looked at me.

"What the hell," I said.

"Yeah," said Buckham, a guard. "What the hell. I never heard the play."

"Why don't you listen in practice?"

"You're nuts, Jacko," I said. "It's not in the play book."

"It's in mine."

"O.K.," I said'. "What is it?"

Jacko looked at the guard. "Wing back, crack back. Strong end, on, outside. On-tackle, pull, lead. On-guard, pull, hook tackle. Koch, on near gap, downfield. Off-guard, inside, on, outside linebacker. Off-tackle, release. Split-end, down-field. Norton, take exaggerated open step, keep angle away from the line -- look for the ball all the way -- key to pulling tackle's block downfield."

We were penalized for too much time in the huddle.

"Goddamn it," Jacko said in the huddle. "Stay awake in practice."

"Bullshit," somebody said. "Stop making up plays."

Third and nine. They red dogged. Jacko had to roll out. I hooked and held the outside linebacker. He flung me away and I ran and Jacko threw but it was too high even to jump off. Reeves shook his head and glared at me as I went past him and sat on the bench. Kaminski sat next to me. He was suited.

"Why aren't you playing if you're suited?" I said.

"I could play. Coach doesn't think so. I know I could. Suited me so nobody will think I'm hurt."

"What do you figure they're thinking if you're sitting on the bench?"

"It'll fool them."

"Who?"

"Next week. Fort Wayne."

He got up to get a drink and fell down.

Steele really started to move Decatur, up the middle, around end, slants, counters. Reeve was raving. Bobby Rich broke his leg. I was really pooped at the end of the quarter. My mouth was full of cotton. I was glad to be sitting. Steele on a Statue of Liberty, with the end coming around to take the ball, moved to our five. Steele faked a hand off and kept and tried to roll around end and got hit and fumbled. I picked up my helmet and jogged out with Koch who said: "We'll kill the bastards."

Jacko got a good series going.

Somebody half clipped me and knocked me down. The fans were screaming at that somebody. I couldn't hear the name. The officials didn't see it. But I had a first down. Jacko bootlegged fake away to me. I went straight ahead to block the tackler. The play was going wide. I nailed the tackle. Hicks got the ball off Jackos' outside hip and ran close to the double team block against odd line. Second and six on their forty-five. Jackos called time and went over to the bench. He came back, shaking his head a little.