The Line of Scrimmage

“We’ll talk to him. He’ll know what to do…”

My uncle was a genius, and I would always go to him to ask for help. But this time, it wasn’t for me. We were all going to go over and see what he would say about this one. We needed some help.

*

My uncle lived in one of the nicer parts of town, but his place was not that big, so I was a little worried about bringing over so many kids from school. That was Martin (in my grade), Daniel (same grade), Lucas (grade above), Gordy (really, his name was Gordon, but he liked Gordy; same grade, too), and Richard (just don’t call him Dick, believe me; grade below). We were all on the same hockey team when we played in the alleys and cul-de-sacs around the surveys and townhouses after school. My thing was to be either on defense or in net, but only if they really had no one else (had to carry my net there, too). I was friends with them since elementary and we were all in our first year (sorry, some second year), and I thought that we would all be friends forever. No change at all. A very good thing.

*

My uncle would be home. I knew this because it was a Sunday afternoon, and we were all there together and we had our homework done (think Gordy had some reading to do, but he could come; Richard and Lucas, too). We all lived in the same neighbourhood and had nothing else to do. And when Martin mentioned it, I said I knew my uncle could help.

“You always go on about him. You always talk about him…”

“He’s brill!”

“Yeah, brill. Like a genius, you said.” We were putting our things away in our lockers – his was almost next to mine; a lucky break – and that was a Friday. We wouldn’t have a game later, maybe, so we could think about what my uncle would say.

“You wanna meet him?”

“Yeah, why not? We bringing some of the others over?”

“Sure.” I thought that was odd, but if he really wanted them all there for that, I could see what we could do.

“Great. Sunday. Stop by my place after 1.”

I still wonder about why he wanted the others there, but so what. I was going to see my uncle.

*

My uncle was home because it was Sunday. Every autumn or winter, on a Sunday, if he did not cover over to our place or to one of my other relatives, he would be home. And why was he always there on a Sunday?

Football!

My uncle was a football fanatic; knew ever statistic and record you could think of about our local team. I loved to quiz him on the stats (I was taking a lot of math, my favourite subject), and he was always dead on. Also, I knew that he had played in high school and college for a little while and then gave it all up to start his own business (importing and exporting). I still wonder why he stopped. He was not a small guy. He worked out and was pretty intimidating (might have helped with his business). He also liked to throw the ball around at the park when he could. But football was not my sport. Not sure it would ever be. I should have been following hockey teams more (spring and the playoffs). And we had a different reason for being there.

*

My uncle knew everything about girls, and we needed some help with this. Sally Titch was the one we wanted help with. She was in Gordy’s grade, so that was my grade, but we never saw her until recess. And she was pretty good at foot hockey and four square, but we were still trying to figure out girls. I knew how to talk to them, but that was all. Not dating or anything. No one to help us out, except…

“What’s he gonna say about her?” Gordy was not really happy about this.

“What we can say to her…”

“This again? Just talk to her, guys.” Daniel was our optimist.

“We do that already.” Lucas was right. I was always in net when she played, and I was the one who would talk to her and ask if she wanted to play.

“At least I talk to her.”

“Right.” Martin was not convinced.

We had to go and visit him.

*

My uncle was going to be home because I knew that it was a football Sunday. I did not really care that much about football (hockey was so much better and faster). I only cared about the stats and how he could remember all of those numbers about his favourite players. I knew that none of his favourite teams were in the game, but I wanted to see what he could say.

*

My uncle did have a nice place. We took the bus and got off near a variety store.

“Let’s get something first.”

“Like what?” Richard was the first one at the door.

“If the game is on, he might want us to bring something over. What do you think he wants?” Gordy was already inside.

I really wasn’t thinking of that. He did not eat too often when we saw him, only the occasional dinners when there was something happening on the weekend. He liked my mom’s soups and bread. He would eat steak and fish. But I cannot think of a snack I saw him enjoy. No crackers, cookies, chips, nuts or anything like that. He was even careful about what he drank.

“Not really sure what he’ll like.”

“But he’s your uncle.” Lucas looked like he had to use the bathroom. “You gotta know…”

We went in and I found the cooler in the back. They had alcohol, but I knew that he would not like it. There was a lot of soda (no), milk (or milks; did he need any?), energy drinks (so many different labels and types), and water (now that would be waters).

“Perrier?”

“Okay, let’s get it.”

So, I picked one that was flavoured with lemon. We also got some root beer (Lucas did have to use the bathroom in the back, but he still wanted a drink when he came out).

“You paying?” Gordy got on my nerves when he did that.

“You got money?” I had some change.

“One bottle.” Daniel put the Perrier on the counter.

“And the beer.”

“Root beer!” Maybe I said it too loud (always doing that). Lucas was back.

“Yeah, just that. I got it.” He dropped some change.

“Okay…”

The clerk just looked at us. Guess we were really too loud.

“We ready?” Gordy was already out side with the root beer. The Perrier was in a glass bottle and pretty heavy. Lucas ran up to Gordy for his drink. Richard finally said something.

“A real dick.”

I almost called him that, but I laughed instead. Wondered which one he was talking about.

*

My uncle’s place was not too far from the store. We walked for about ten minutes and talked for a while.

“You really think he can help us?” Lucas carried on talking with the drink, spilling some of it on the sidewalk.

“Sure. Like I said, he is brill. And he does so well with…”

“He’s a playa!” Gordy was trying to annoy me, I thought.

“A playa…” Daniel let the word dance in his mouth for a while.

“No, no, he just knows what to say to them.”

“Right.” Gordy was looking past us. “Must have a gift.”

I thought about calling him Gordon or punching him, but we were near the corner where we would have to turn. It was pretty quiet with the game on, and there were no cars here (a cul-de-sac).

And then we saw her.

Not Sally; no, this was an older version of Sally. She was coming out of the townhouse with a large handbag, but her hair was all messed up and she was trying to put on some high heels as she saw us.

Gordon said it first because he knew it first.

“Ms. T.? You live here?”

The woman was one who worked in our school, but I did not know it. Sally never talked about her, but Gordon recognized her. He and Lucas were in the speech therapy sessions, and she came in at least once a week to help them with the letters “S” and “R”. I did not have to do it this year. Did not even know that it was still on for them.

“No, not here… Just visiting some… Okay, I will see you boys on Wednesday.”

She dropped something on the steps leading down to the sidewalk and I picked it up for her. Martin told me not to (how did he know?). Gordy just stared at it. Lucas belched and looked…and laughed.

A football pin; my uncle’s favourite team.

“A playa…” I really wanted to kill Lucas.

Mrs. T. heard it fall. She also heard Gordon. She came back for it.

“Let me have it, Gordon.”

He really did not like hearing his real name that way, but he did not say anything. Lucas stared at her. Daniel and Richard stood back and looked at me. What was I going to do?

I picked it up.

“Here…”

“Thanks. Left it on after last night… See you all.”

*

My uncle was home. I stood there and I was with my friends. That bottle of Perrier was heavy and Lucas finished his root beer.

“What about your uncle?” Gordon really was a dick.

“What about…helping us?” Lucas tossed the can into his backpack.

Daniel and Richard did not say much. Nothing really…

“He’s not home.”

*

My uncle was home, watching his football. I decided to go home and not say a thing. Maybe I left the Perrier on the steps…? I think Lucas was the only one who was really disappointed because he wanted to see the game; kept talking about the line of scrimmage and how some things can’t be crossed until everything’s ready. Richard called him a dick; Lucas called him Dick and they kept arguing but I did not bother to stick around. Daniel and Gordon – not Gordy anymore – walked with me for a while, but I was alone when I got home.

There was homework to do, and I wondered about Sally and therapy and knew that I could get my notes ready for school. I had a lot to think about, even on a football Sunday.

*

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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