The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

Coach looked out the window. “Alright then.”

I merged onto the highway from the entrance ramp, and just as I entered the right lane, a car from the center moved over without looking. I swerved onto the shoulder and avoided a collision but had a few choice words for the idiot. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I waved my right arm as my left hand sat on the horn. “Try looking before you change lanes!”

Coach pointed. “Fifty-three Buick Skylark. That car was popular when I was a kid. The guy probably shouldn’t be driving. He looks old enough to be the original owner.”

I shook my head. “Someone should tell him that.”

I merged behind the old car. It was only going about forty miles an hour, though we were on a fifty-five road. So as soon as it was safe, I moved into the middle lane to pass him. Of course, since I was a guy, I had to first pull up next to him and take a look at the moron while making a face. The driver looked about seventy-five, which made me feel like a bully, so I hit the gas without making eye contact.

Coach looked back in his rearview mirror. “They don’t make cars like that anymore. John had a ’fifty-seven in his collection.”

That reminded me of something. “Didn’t he also have a blue Ford Thunderbird from the fifties?”

“Sure did. A nineteen fifty-four. A real beauty.”

“Whatever happened to it?”

“I got the entire collection when he passed. He meant well, because those old cars were always something he and I enjoyed, but I don’t really have a use for eleven antique cars. I can’t even drive one. We used to go to swap meets and car shows on Friday nights when he was growing up. We still went a few times a year up until the end.”

I remembered being invited to John Barrett’s home the first year I joined the team. He’d had a garage that held more than a dozen cars. We’d smoked cigars, and he took me to look at them all.

“He drove them occasionally, right?”

He nodded. “Usually to the store or around town. You’re supposed to drive a car at least once a month so its seals don’t dry out and get leaks.”

“Did he…ever drive them to the stadium?”

“Once in a while, if it was nice out. Why do you ask?”

I wasn’t about to even hint at what was on my mind because it was a ridiculous thought to begin with. Yet…still something niggled. I shrugged. “No reason. Just curious.” I tapped the steering wheel, lost in thought for a while. “You still have the cars?”

“Sure do. Probably should give them to charity or something, since they’re just sitting around collecting dust.”

“Where are they?”

“One of those public storage places. They have a climate-controlled garage for cars attached to the main building. The manager starts ’em and lets ’em run once a month for a little extra cash, but they really should be driven, not just let the engine run idly.”

I pondered that for a few exits. “Maybe we can go see them sometime.”

“The cars?”

I nodded.

“Sure. I’d like that. It’s been a few years.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon for Sunday’s game. Maybe next Saturday? We’ll only have a morning walk-through, not a full practice.”

“Let me check my calendar.” Coach scratched his chin. “Yep, looks like I’m free.”

Traffic was heavy, so we arrived at the football field a few minutes late. I helped Coach settle in his chair, and we headed to the bleachers to look for Bella. She wasn’t hard to find since she was standing at the fence, screaming her head off.

“What’d I miss?” I called.

She turned and smiled. “Oh hey! They called back Wyatt’s field goal for a penalty, but the defense had too many guys on the field, and the ref didn’t notice.” Bella leaned down and hugged Coach but then hesitated, seeming like she wasn’t sure how to greet me. I settled her internal debate by hooking a hand around the back of her neck and giving her a quick kiss on the lips. After, I moved my mouth to her ear. “He knows.”

“Oh…” She nodded with an uneasy smile. “Okay.”

I could see this being-out-in-public thing was going to take some getting used to for her, so I didn’t push it. “Wanna go up on the stands? Coach can see easier.”

“Yeah, sure. I wasn’t sure you’d want to sit with the crowd. It’s pretty packed tonight.”

“It’s fine.”

The three of us settled into the first row of the bleachers and watched the game. By the time the ref blew the whistle at the end of the first quarter, it was almost dark and the field lights were on. That brought back a ton of memories. I looked around, not realizing I was smiling until Bella elbowed me.

“What’s going on in that head of yours? You’re smiling like a cat who ate a canary.”

“Nothing. Just remembering the good old days. I used to love Friday-night games under the lights in high school.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “And under the bleachers after.”

She shook her head. “You know what I did on Friday nights in high school?”

“What?”

“I read books on combinatorics.”

“What the hell is that?”

She grinned. “It’s the branch of math that interested me most.”