anyway. Come on, let’s go find some shade.”
I led the way to the sidewalk beside the building where the temperature was a good ten degrees cooler, although still by no means cool. While it might have been even more pleasant under the live oaks by the parking lot, we’d almost certainly have had to contend with fire ants, and I wasn’t in the mood. The kids flopped on the ground like wilted lettuce, only less ambitious, and stared at their own hands or feet glumly.
“There’s no way I can replace Coach Fred. No one could. We’re all going to miss him so much. I don’t know how many of you know this, but I teach history here, and Coach Fred was the lead teacher for my department. I worked with him very closely, and he was my friend.”
My voice cracked a little as I said this, and I struggled to push back tears. A few eyes turned toward me, and I could tell they were all listening. I went on.
“If tennis was just a team and not a regular class, I’d cancel practice for a week and let us all grieve for Fred in the way he deserved, but that’s just not an option. And maybe it’s not even something he would want. Of all the work he did at the school, he was the most proud of his tennis team. Of you. He thought the world of you. He talked about you all the time, of the progress you’ve made over the past couple of years, of the fun you have together, and the fun he had being your coach.”
By this time the boys were staring grimly at their shoes and the girls were all perilously close to tears, but these things had to be said. I looked away to give us all a little time. Overhead in the cloudless blue sky, a lone turkey vulture spiraled lazily on an updraft, wings motionless, outstretched feathers quivering. The steady thrum of traffic competed with the lazy summer sound of cicadas in the trees. I drew a deep breath of the sweltering air and felt a trickle of sweat run down my back.
“So, for today, any of you that have your own cars can go ahead and leave. Anyone who needs to wait for the bus or for a ride can either go to the library or you can come to my classroom and get a head start on filling out the bajillion first-day forms that I know you have. Then tomorrow, one way or another, we’ll have regular practice.”
This seemed to meet with general approval. A handful of the twenty took off, and the rest, mostly freshmen and sophomores, followed me up to my room, a subtle vote of confidence, which I appreciated. On the way, McKenzie Mills caught up with me.
“Ms. Shore,” she said hesitantly. “I … um, I have a problem, and Coach Fred was going to help me, but I don’t know if he had a chance before he … before he…,” she trailed off, not knowing how to say “before he died.”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Well, it’s stupid, but…” Again, she had trouble finishing her sentence.
“Hang on. Let me open my room, and then we’ll talk.” We had arrived at the classroom, and I unlocked the door to let everyone else in, and then closed the door so McKenzie and I could talk in the hall. The blast of cold air from the room made the hall seem doubly stuffy, but it was a whole lot better than outside. Across the way, Coach Fred’s room was already dark and locked.
I turned to McKenzie, who was wearing a pink and white tennis outfit, her blond hair pulled into a ponytail. I’d been right. Without the reddened eyes of this morning, she was very pretty. And right now either worried or embarrassed.
“Coach Fred was going to take care of something for you?” I prompted.
She nodded. “Uh-huh. See, I auditioned and got a part in the musical.” She looked at me with pleading eyes, as though this was a problem I could solve.
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
Not what she wanted to hear.
“Thanks, but see, Ms. Wales said I’d have to drop tennis, and I don’t want to. Rehearsal is right after school, but only until the performance in September.”
I thought about this. “I
I led the way to the sidewalk beside the building where the temperature was a good ten degrees cooler, although still by no means cool. While it might have been even more pleasant under the live oaks by the parking lot, we’d almost certainly have had to contend with fire ants, and I wasn’t in the mood. The kids flopped on the ground like wilted lettuce, only less ambitious, and stared at their own hands or feet glumly.
“There’s no way I can replace Coach Fred. No one could. We’re all going to miss him so much. I don’t know how many of you know this, but I teach history here, and Coach Fred was the lead teacher for my department. I worked with him very closely, and he was my friend.”
My voice cracked a little as I said this, and I struggled to push back tears. A few eyes turned toward me, and I could tell they were all listening. I went on.
“If tennis was just a team and not a regular class, I’d cancel practice for a week and let us all grieve for Fred in the way he deserved, but that’s just not an option. And maybe it’s not even something he would want. Of all the work he did at the school, he was the most proud of his tennis team. Of you. He thought the world of you. He talked about you all the time, of the progress you’ve made over the past couple of years, of the fun you have together, and the fun he had being your coach.”
By this time the boys were staring grimly at their shoes and the girls were all perilously close to tears, but these things had to be said. I looked away to give us all a little time. Overhead in the cloudless blue sky, a lone turkey vulture spiraled lazily on an updraft, wings motionless, outstretched feathers quivering. The steady thrum of traffic competed with the lazy summer sound of cicadas in the trees. I drew a deep breath of the sweltering air and felt a trickle of sweat run down my back.
“So, for today, any of you that have your own cars can go ahead and leave. Anyone who needs to wait for the bus or for a ride can either go to the library or you can come to my classroom and get a head start on filling out the bajillion first-day forms that I know you have. Then tomorrow, one way or another, we’ll have regular practice.”
This seemed to meet with general approval. A handful of the twenty took off, and the rest, mostly freshmen and sophomores, followed me up to my room, a subtle vote of confidence, which I appreciated. On the way, McKenzie Mills caught up with me.
“Ms. Shore,” she said hesitantly. “I … um, I have a problem, and Coach Fred was going to help me, but I don’t know if he had a chance before he … before he…,” she trailed off, not knowing how to say “before he died.”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Well, it’s stupid, but…” Again, she had trouble finishing her sentence.
“Hang on. Let me open my room, and then we’ll talk.” We had arrived at the classroom, and I unlocked the door to let everyone else in, and then closed the door so McKenzie and I could talk in the hall. The blast of cold air from the room made the hall seem doubly stuffy, but it was a whole lot better than outside. Across the way, Coach Fred’s room was already dark and locked.
I turned to McKenzie, who was wearing a pink and white tennis outfit, her blond hair pulled into a ponytail. I’d been right. Without the reddened eyes of this morning, she was very pretty. And right now either worried or embarrassed.
“Coach Fred was going to take care of something for you?” I prompted.
She nodded. “Uh-huh. See, I auditioned and got a part in the musical.” She looked at me with pleading eyes, as though this was a problem I could solve.
“That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
Not what she wanted to hear.
“Thanks, but see, Ms. Wales said I’d have to drop tennis, and I don’t want to. Rehearsal is right after school, but only until the performance in September.”
I thought about this. “I
Similar Books
