Shauneyboy68
10-26-2010, 03:13 PM
Racine, West Virginia
October, 2007
Football Season
The skin of his hand was white from want of sunlight, but they were strong hands. The fingers were gnarled things, like the roots of an ancient, trusted tree. The pads along the upper-side of the palms were calloused and hard from years of working the pick axe.
“I love your hands,” said Michelle. She held Thomas’s hand in her own little ones. Her fingers, soft and caring, danced over the calluses, caressing them. Thomas relaxed, his fingers were splayed. Michelle touched each one. She turned his hand over, marveling at them. “You’re gentle.”
“I’m not gentle,” said Thomas.
“You are gentle. You’re my gentle giant.”
Thomas turned away from Michelle’s smiling face.
“Are you blushing?” said Michelle.
“No.”
A leaf fell from the bough of the tree under which they were sitting. It was red. It was crumpled around the edges. It floated down, spinning and tumbling through the air. It landed on Thomas’s shoulder. Thomas made no move to brush it away.
“What’s wrong?” said Michelle.
“You know what’s wrong.”
“We talked about this. I thought you were ok with it.”
“I thought I was ok with it too.”
“What changed?” said Michelle.
“It’s time. I tried to ignore it, but now it’s time and it’s staring me in the face,” said Thomas.
“Thomas…”
Thomas said nothing.
“Thomas, there’s nothing we can do.”
“I know there’s nothing we can do, but I don’t have to like it.”
Michelle brushed the leaf off of Thomas’s shoulder.
“I love you,” said Michelle.
Thomas said nothing.
“Thomas, I said I love you.”
“I love you too,” said Thomas.
Michelle put her arms around Thomas’s neck. She clasped her hands over his chest. Thomas placed his callused hand over Michelle’s and held them. Michelle kissed his cheek.
The couple sat on a hill. The hills surrounding their hill were wooded, but their hill was clear of trees, save for the one under which they sat. The hill overlooked a deep valley. The sun was low on the horizon, and the sky burned red. The valley below was dark. Thomas watched it, searching for any signs of movement. Route 119 was running through the valley, and Route 119 was the main road out of Morgantown.
“I can feel your heart,” said Michelle.
“Can you feel it beating?”
“It’s pounding away a mile a minute.”
“I know.”
“Have you been sleeping?”
“No,” said Thomas.
“Me neither.”
Thomas turned to Michelle then. Eyes as wide as they could be, Michelle drew back.
“Then why don’t we just say ‘screw it’ and leave?”
“Thomas, you’re shouting,” said Michelle. She tried to pull away from Thomas’s grip, and she covered her ear with her free hand.
“Why don’t we run?”
“We can’t do that?”
“Why not?” said Thomas.
Michelle looked down towards the valley. Thomas followed her gaze. Headlights glinted in the valley below. They moved through the darkness, working their way up the base of the hill. The headlights were soon followed by another pair, and then another. A fourth pair joined them, and they looked like a pack of black panthers slinking towards some unsuspecting prey.
“I’m going to be sick,” said Thomas.
“Baby, I told you…”
“You love me.”
“Yeah.”
“So let’s run. Let’s get out of here.”
It was Michelle’s turn to say nothing.
“Goddamn it Michelle, this is going to kill me.”
The headlights emerged from the darkness, changing from panthers into Cadillacs. Thomas could hear the sounds of the engines now; big Detroit V8’s churning out horsepower, fighting to climb to the summit of the hill.
“I’ll be thinking of you the entire time,” said Michelle.
“That’s not good enough.”
“We made an agreement Thomas, the entire state did.”
“I know, but I don’t care about that now.”
“Are you going to go back on your word?”
The procession of vehicles eased to a halt. The driver of the lead car got out. He slammed his door closed.
“Over my dead body,” said Thomas. He rose to his feet, clenching his big callused hands as he did so.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Michelle. She was tugging on Thomas’s arm, trying to pull him back down to the ground. “That guy is a word class fitness expert. You’re just a coal miner.”
The last rays of the sun glinted off the driver’s blue and gold polo shirt. He was a large man, more stout than tall, and, judging by the man’s cartoonish bulk, it was clear to Thomas that the man knew his way around a gym.
“Michelle Jenkins?” said the man.
“Please baby, this is our last chance,” said Thomas.
“That’s me,” said Michelle. She held her little hand to her mouth, trying to project her voice as far as she could.
“Don’t do this. Our love will never be the same,” said Thomas.
“Coach Rodriguez is ready for you. If you would just come this way…”
Michelle ran towards the man in the blue and yellow shirt. She didn’t look back.
“Michelle! Come back,” said Thomas.
Michelle disappeared into the back of one of the Cadillacs. Thomas marched towards it.
“Stop right there,” said the man in the polo.
“Fuck you,” said Thomas. He turned his march into a sprint.
The man in the polo was faster than his bulk made him look. He closed on Thomas and had him down in the grass before Thomas was even half way to the cars. Thomas struggled against the man in the polo’s hold, but his efforts were that of a child struggling against a violent convict.
“You settle right on down,” said the man in the polo.
“Michelle!” said Thomas. Tears were creeping into his voice.
Save for the first car, the procession pulled away; they moved back down the hill towards the black valley below.
“Son, I don’t envy you at all,” said the man in the polo.
Thomas spat out of the side of his face into the grass.
“Hell, if I was in your position, I’d be a fussing and a fighting just like you is,” said the man in the polo.
Thomas’s body ceased its resistance. It shuddered with sobs.
“But ya’ll did make a deal. We all did,” said the man in the polo.
“You can go to hell. You all can,” said Thomas.
“But don’t worry. Coach Rodriguez is a sensitive lover. He’ll have your little wifey back to you. Ship shape. You have my word on that.”
Thomas moaned.
“Or my name isn’t Mike Barwis.”
October, 2007
Football Season
The skin of his hand was white from want of sunlight, but they were strong hands. The fingers were gnarled things, like the roots of an ancient, trusted tree. The pads along the upper-side of the palms were calloused and hard from years of working the pick axe.
“I love your hands,” said Michelle. She held Thomas’s hand in her own little ones. Her fingers, soft and caring, danced over the calluses, caressing them. Thomas relaxed, his fingers were splayed. Michelle touched each one. She turned his hand over, marveling at them. “You’re gentle.”
“I’m not gentle,” said Thomas.
“You are gentle. You’re my gentle giant.”
Thomas turned away from Michelle’s smiling face.
“Are you blushing?” said Michelle.
“No.”
A leaf fell from the bough of the tree under which they were sitting. It was red. It was crumpled around the edges. It floated down, spinning and tumbling through the air. It landed on Thomas’s shoulder. Thomas made no move to brush it away.
“What’s wrong?” said Michelle.
“You know what’s wrong.”
“We talked about this. I thought you were ok with it.”
“I thought I was ok with it too.”
“What changed?” said Michelle.
“It’s time. I tried to ignore it, but now it’s time and it’s staring me in the face,” said Thomas.
“Thomas…”
Thomas said nothing.
“Thomas, there’s nothing we can do.”
“I know there’s nothing we can do, but I don’t have to like it.”
Michelle brushed the leaf off of Thomas’s shoulder.
“I love you,” said Michelle.
Thomas said nothing.
“Thomas, I said I love you.”
“I love you too,” said Thomas.
Michelle put her arms around Thomas’s neck. She clasped her hands over his chest. Thomas placed his callused hand over Michelle’s and held them. Michelle kissed his cheek.
The couple sat on a hill. The hills surrounding their hill were wooded, but their hill was clear of trees, save for the one under which they sat. The hill overlooked a deep valley. The sun was low on the horizon, and the sky burned red. The valley below was dark. Thomas watched it, searching for any signs of movement. Route 119 was running through the valley, and Route 119 was the main road out of Morgantown.
“I can feel your heart,” said Michelle.
“Can you feel it beating?”
“It’s pounding away a mile a minute.”
“I know.”
“Have you been sleeping?”
“No,” said Thomas.
“Me neither.”
Thomas turned to Michelle then. Eyes as wide as they could be, Michelle drew back.
“Then why don’t we just say ‘screw it’ and leave?”
“Thomas, you’re shouting,” said Michelle. She tried to pull away from Thomas’s grip, and she covered her ear with her free hand.
“Why don’t we run?”
“We can’t do that?”
“Why not?” said Thomas.
Michelle looked down towards the valley. Thomas followed her gaze. Headlights glinted in the valley below. They moved through the darkness, working their way up the base of the hill. The headlights were soon followed by another pair, and then another. A fourth pair joined them, and they looked like a pack of black panthers slinking towards some unsuspecting prey.
“I’m going to be sick,” said Thomas.
“Baby, I told you…”
“You love me.”
“Yeah.”
“So let’s run. Let’s get out of here.”
It was Michelle’s turn to say nothing.
“Goddamn it Michelle, this is going to kill me.”
The headlights emerged from the darkness, changing from panthers into Cadillacs. Thomas could hear the sounds of the engines now; big Detroit V8’s churning out horsepower, fighting to climb to the summit of the hill.
“I’ll be thinking of you the entire time,” said Michelle.
“That’s not good enough.”
“We made an agreement Thomas, the entire state did.”
“I know, but I don’t care about that now.”
“Are you going to go back on your word?”
The procession of vehicles eased to a halt. The driver of the lead car got out. He slammed his door closed.
“Over my dead body,” said Thomas. He rose to his feet, clenching his big callused hands as he did so.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Michelle. She was tugging on Thomas’s arm, trying to pull him back down to the ground. “That guy is a word class fitness expert. You’re just a coal miner.”
The last rays of the sun glinted off the driver’s blue and gold polo shirt. He was a large man, more stout than tall, and, judging by the man’s cartoonish bulk, it was clear to Thomas that the man knew his way around a gym.
“Michelle Jenkins?” said the man.
“Please baby, this is our last chance,” said Thomas.
“That’s me,” said Michelle. She held her little hand to her mouth, trying to project her voice as far as she could.
“Don’t do this. Our love will never be the same,” said Thomas.
“Coach Rodriguez is ready for you. If you would just come this way…”
Michelle ran towards the man in the blue and yellow shirt. She didn’t look back.
“Michelle! Come back,” said Thomas.
Michelle disappeared into the back of one of the Cadillacs. Thomas marched towards it.
“Stop right there,” said the man in the polo.
“Fuck you,” said Thomas. He turned his march into a sprint.
The man in the polo was faster than his bulk made him look. He closed on Thomas and had him down in the grass before Thomas was even half way to the cars. Thomas struggled against the man in the polo’s hold, but his efforts were that of a child struggling against a violent convict.
“You settle right on down,” said the man in the polo.
“Michelle!” said Thomas. Tears were creeping into his voice.
Save for the first car, the procession pulled away; they moved back down the hill towards the black valley below.
“Son, I don’t envy you at all,” said the man in the polo.
Thomas spat out of the side of his face into the grass.
“Hell, if I was in your position, I’d be a fussing and a fighting just like you is,” said the man in the polo.
Thomas’s body ceased its resistance. It shuddered with sobs.
“But ya’ll did make a deal. We all did,” said the man in the polo.
“You can go to hell. You all can,” said Thomas.
“But don’t worry. Coach Rodriguez is a sensitive lover. He’ll have your little wifey back to you. Ship shape. You have my word on that.”
Thomas moaned.
“Or my name isn’t Mike Barwis.”