The Field of Love - 10. Chapter 10

The Field of Love

Chapter 10

As Sammy walked down the brightly lit hallway, his hand accidentally brushed against Mike’s. A warm feeling like a jolt of electricity shot down to his toes. He felt his cheeks flush as he stole a glance at Mike from the corner of his eye. His heart pounded slightly faster when he noticed Mike smiling through a soft blush. Did Mike feel the same way? Could he dare hope?

Once outside, Mike stopped. Sammy turned with an expected look on his face.

Mike glanced at the school bus and then at his family’s car. He shuffled his feet and then said quickly, “I could ask Coach if you would like to ride back with us.”

Just as Sammy was about to respond, Andy, Joey, and Roger walked up.

“Hey guys,” Andy said as he scanned the area.

Sammy reluctantly turned from Mike and replied in an irritated voice, “Hi, Andy.”

Andy saw the look on Sammy’s face and had to suppress a grin. He glanced at Joey, whose eyes seemed to sparkle. He said, “We aren’t interrupting, are we?”

“Cause if we are, we can come back,” Joey said with a big grin.

Sammy blushed and then said in a friendlier tone, “No, it’s okay.”

“We just wanted to know if you needed a ride home. You could come with us and Judge Collins’ security team.” Joey said warmly.

Mike looked annoyed and Sammy hesitated. He was unsure whether to accept Andy’s offer or ride with Mike’s family.

Sammy could appreciate the offer to ride with Judge Collins’ security team, but he really wanted to spend more time with Mike after their almost-moment outside the hospital lobby. Sammy glanced at Mike, then back at Andy, not wanting to disappoint anyone.

Thankfully, James jumped out of the car and shouted, “Mike, we gotta go. Dad said to get it in gear, now!”

Mike gave Sammy a regretful look. But he pulled out his phone as he said, “I have to go. Punch in your number real quick.”

Sammy smiled as he entered his number and handed the phone back. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Mike said, flashing a grin as he took off towards the car.

Sammy’s smile lit up his whole face.

“Great,” Roger exclaimed as he threw his hands up in mock frustration. “I’m totally the one straight guy in this group.”

Andy laughed as he gave him a playful shove. “Alright, straight boy. That’s enough from you.”

Then Andy turned to Sammy, with a twinkle in his eye, he said slyly, “So... Mike’s the one, huh?”

“What?”

Joey threw his arm over Sammy’s shoulder and said, “You look at Mike like Andy looks at me.”

“Don’t worry,” Andy assured him. “Mike’s face mirrored yours.”

Sammy looked down as he rubbed his hands together nervously. Then he met Andy’s eyes and gave a sheepish grin. “I think so.”

Andy said as he reached over and ruffled Sammy’s hair. “Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.” Sammy blushed and stammered, “Do I need to ask Coach about riding back with you guys?”

“Nope, I’ve already taken care of it,” Andy said as he threw his arm around Sammy’s shoulder. “Just so you know, I saw Tony’s parents arrive after I spoke with Coach, so he’s not alone.”

“That’s good,” Sammy said with a sigh of relief.

Andy added, “Also, my dad told me on the phone that the police will be questioning everyone who saw Tony get stabbed over the next few days.”

Andy’s eyes narrowed. “They’ve got Evan in custody and plan to throw the book at him.”

Sammy nodded. “Good. I felt bad leaving Tony alone here at the hospital.”

When he saw Tony being wheeled into the operating room, he thought back to when they first met. Tony had been the only one that offered him an encouraging nod when he showed up for tryouts. He had to make it; he just had too.

He thought back to when they first became friends—his only friend. It had been at the try out for the team. Tony had been the only guy to offer any encouragement. He had been taking his turn at batting practice when he noticed Tony standing at second giving him a thumbs up and a nod with a smile.

“He’s fine, Sammy,” Andy assured him as he gave him a reassuring squeeze. “He probably isn’t even awake yet. By the time he is, his parents will be with him.”

Sammy sighed again. “I hope so. He shouldn’t wake up alone.”

Andy motioned toward the front of the hospital. “Our ride’s meeting us out front.”

“You know,” Andy said as he stopped so he could look into Sammy’s eyes. “We can visit Tony tomorrow after school. I’ll get us excused from practice.”

Sammy’s face lit up. “I’d like that a lot. Tony’s a good friend, and I thought I was losing him.”

“I’ll talk to Coach tonight,” Andy said with a reassuring nod. “And on the way home, we can talk strategy, figure out what to do about Brent and his friends.”

On the way back to Pine Hills, the boys shared their class schedules and made a quiet pact: they wouldn’t leave Sammy alone for any extended period. Roger volunteered to spend the most time keeping him company.

“Remember,” Andy said as he summed up their plan. “Don’t start anything. Try to talk your way out of any situation.”

“By the way,” Joey interjected. “Good game today.”

Sammy wasn’t used to nor really liked to hear compliments directed his way. He shrugged and said, “I just wanted us to win and did everything I could to make it happen.”

Andy rolled his eyes and Sammy grinned as he added, “Besides, Joey was just as good, maybe even better.”

“He was, wasn’t he,” Andy said proudly. He leaned in to press his lips against Joey’s cheek.

The morning sun cast long shadows across the parking lot as the boys stepped out of the car. Pine Hills High loomed ahead, familiar yet somehow different after everything that had happened.

Sammy walked between Andy and Joey, his backpack slung low and his eyes scanning the faces around them. Whispers followed them—fragments of gossip about Tony, Evan, and the stabbing incident. Sammy felt the weight of every glance, but Andy’s steady presence beside him helped keep him focused on the plan.

Roger ran over and fell in next to them. He playfully nudged Sammy as he held up a crumpled schedule. “Okay, so I’ve got third period free. I’ll hang with you during lunch too. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Sammy smiled, grateful. “Thanks, Roger.”

Inside, the halls buzzed with chatter. Sammy’s first class paired him with Roger for a group project. Roger kept the mood light, cracking jokes and doodling in the margins of their worksheet. Across the room, Joey caught Sammy’s eye and gave him a quick thumbs-up.

But the mood shifted as they passed through the main hallway between classes. Brent and his group leaned against the lockers. As they walked passed, Sammy could feel their eyes as they stared at them with unreadable expressions.

“Well, look who’s got a bodyguard squad now,” Brent muttered, loud enough to be heard.

Andy stepped forward, calm but firm. “I’m not the one that has to have my friends around me every moment of every day.

Brent grinned. "That's because you don't have any friends."

Andy shook his head in frustration, “We're not here to fight."

"Because fags can't.” Brent laughed and his friends nodded in agreement.

Sammy and Roger both stepped between Brent and Andy. Sammy’s face red with built up anger. “That's enough Brent. I’m not afraid of you..”

As Sammy stood with clenched fists, Roger took a step closer to Brent and looked him dead in the eyes, paused and then said, “If you ever touched Andy, I swear to God and all that’s holy I will end you.”

Brent smirked but said nothing more. His friends snickered as they walked away.

Andy turned to Sammy. “Just like we talked about—don’t engage. We’ve got your back. Even if sometimes Roger gets excited.”

Sammy nodded gratefully though his heart pounded in his chest. “I know. Thanks.”

Roger shrugged, “It needed to be said. Besides, I fucking meant it.” Roger winked at Andy.

Later, during a quiet moment in the library, Sammy sat alone at a corner table, flipping through a textbook but not really reading. His thoughts drifted to Tony—their first conversation, the way Tony had stood up for him when no one else did. He was my only friend, Sammy thought. And I almost lost him.

Seeing Tony laying in the dirt with his life blood gusting out from the wounds made him mad and disgusted at people that would do insane bullshit like that to another human being, even their own brother. Then at the hospital seeing Tony hooked up to those machines and tubes made him sick to his stomach.

His whole body began to shake. He had almost hit Brent in their brief confrontation. If not for the words of his uncle Hawk sounding in his mind to meet words with words not with fists. He has heeded those words, this time. But future confrontations, time will tell the tale.

The bell rang, and Andy appeared at the door. “Coach Parker said it’s fine. We’re excused from practice.”

Sammy stood and breathed a sigh of relief. “Really? That’s great.”

“We’ll visit Tony after school,” Andy said. “And on the way home, we’ll talk and get to know each other better. Okay?”

Sammy smiled and felt something he hadn’t experienced in a very long time—hope.

His thoughts drifted to the months he’d spent living with Uncle Hawk, who had trained him in Chulukua-Ryu. The discipline, the focus, the control—it had taught Sammy how to stay calm, how to let words roll off his back. Brent’s remarks were just that: words. And words couldn’t hurt him.

But Tony’s brother had shown him something else—something darker. That there were people in the world who didn’t stop at words. People who would take physical action against those they disagreed with. That realization settled heavily in Sammy’s chest.

He clenched his fists—not in anger, but in quiet resolve. I won’t let fear control me, he thought. Not anymore.

After the final bell rang, the boys met in the school parking lot. Sammy and Roger had spent the afternoon gathering Tony’s assignments from all his classes, making sure he wouldn’t fall behind. Andy and Joey were already waiting when they arrived.

At the hospital, they were greeted by Tony’s mother, Gloria Thompson. Her face lit up with a weak but grateful smile.

“I’m so glad to see you boys,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Sammy stepped forward and hugged her gently. He whispered, “How is Tony, Mrs. Thompson?”

Gloria wrapped her arms around him tightly, as a sob escaped her lips. “He’s going to be okay, baby.”

She stepped back and wiped the tears from her eyes before she said in a determined voice, “It’s going to take some time for him to completely heal, but he will.”

The room was quiet except for the soft beeping of monitors and the occasional murmur from the hallway. Tony lay in the hospital bed, pale but awake, his eyes flickered towards the door as it opened.

Sammy stepped in first with a folder of assignments. Behind him came Andy, Joey, and Roger, who all had brought something—snacks, a sketchpad, a small stuffed bear Roger insisted was “for morale.”

Tony’s lips curled into a weak smile. “You guys came.”

“Of course we did,” Andy said as he plopped into a chair. “You didn’t think we’d let you sit here bored out of your mind, did you?”

Sammy approached slowly and then placed the folder on the bedside table. “We got your assignments. Teachers said you can take your time.”

Tony looked at Sammy, his eyes softening. “Thanks. I didn’t think anyone would bother.”

Sammy hesitated, then sat beside him. “You’re my friend. You were the first person who ever stood up for me. I’m not going to forget that.”

Tony’s face filled with emotion, and he tried to blink the tears away. “I didn’t think Evan would actually,” He stopped, voice cracking.

Joey stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on Tony’s shoulder. “You don’t have to explain. We’re glad you’re okay.”

Roger tried to lighten the mood by holding up the stuffed bear. “This guy’s name is Winston. He’s here to guard you while we’re at school.”

Tony chuckled; the sound was raspy but real. “Thanks, Winston.”

Andy leaned in. “We’re all watching out for each other now. No one’s alone.”

Tony nodded but his eyes drifted to Sammy. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Sammy smiled though the sight of Tony hooked up to tubes with the thick bandage around his stomach made him feel slightly nauseous. He’d have to be strong, so he choked back those feelings and said softly, “Me too.”

As the boys walked out of the hospital, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pavement. Sammy lingered behind for a moment, letting the warmth settle on his skin.

His thoughts drifted back to South Dakota and the time he spent there. He loved the open plains of the Cheyenne River Reservation. He remembered the wind sweeping through the grass, the distant calls of birds, and the long days spent training with Uncle Hawk. It was the only place he’d really identified as feeling like home, even though it had always felt so empty.

Even there Sammy had no friends. The other kids kept their distance, and he never understood why. His uncle was his only companion—stern, wise, and fiercely protective. Uncle Hawk had taught him discipline through Chulukua-Ryu, and how to carry himself with strength even when he felt small.

Back then, Sammy had accepted loneliness as a fact of life.

But now, here in the hills of Kentucky, things are different. He had friends—real ones. Andy, Joey, Roger, and Tony. They didn’t just tolerate him; they cared. They showed up. They stood beside him.

Sammy looked over at the group as they laughed and joked while they waited for him by the car. A smile tugged at his lips.

I’m not alone anymore, he thought. Not here. Not with them.

Once they arrived back at the school grounds they waited for Sammy’s father, they sat beneath a wide oak tree on the edge of the field. The late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves, casting golden patches of light across the grass. It was quiet, peaceful—the kind of moment that invited honesty.

Sammy sat cross-legged in the grass, his fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt. After a long pause, he spoke.

“I used to live in South Dakota,” he said quietly. “On the Cheyenne River Reservation. With my Uncle Hawk.”

Roger looked up from his sketchpad. “WoW. That sounds... kinda cool. Was it?”

Sammy gave a small smile. “It was quiet. Beautiful, in its own way. But I didn’t have any friends. Not one. Just my uncle. He used to take me fishing and hunting. He taught me how to track game.” He paused, shaking his head. “He even taught me how to track him.”

Roger laughed, “I bet you couldn’t track me in these hills.”

Sammy smiled. “People almost always leave a sign. A footprint, a broken branch, a torn piece of clothing, or a smell, there is usually something to follow.”

Joey laughed, “Following Roger by smell would be easy. Never be around when he takes off his shoes.”

Roger playfully punched Joey in the arm. “Shut up, little brother. No family secrets.”

Andy leaned forward, listening intently. Joey reached over and gently touched Sammy’s arm “Do you hunt around here?.”

Sammy said as he shook his head. “No, my dad doesn’t hunt, and I don’t like to hunt by myself. I sometimes fish down by the Coke Plant.”

Sammy looked around at the circle of friends and continued his story. “My uncle taught me Chulukua-Ryu at a very young age.” Sammy smiled when he saw that they had no idea what he was talking about. “It’s a martial art. Not just fighting—it’s about discipline, control, knowing when to walk away. That’s how I’ve been able to ignore guys like Brent. Words don’t shake me much anymore.”

Roger nodded slowly. “Still, that must’ve been tough. Just you and your uncle? And what exactly is the, what did you call it? Chukakua?”

Sammy shrugged. “He did his best. But I was lonely. I didn’t think I’d ever really belong anywhere. It’s Chulukus-Ryu, a Native American fighting style. A man of Cherokee and Irish descent, spent 25 years visiting different Native American tribes and learning their unique warrior arts. From Apache hand throws to tomahawk techniques, on and off horseback, SwiftDeer received a staggering 175 techniques, which he synthesized into an entirely new martial art.”

Sammy felt like a teacher in front of a classroom, but these guys were really interested in what he knew. And that made him feel proud of his heritage.

He looked around at the group—Andy, Joey, Roger—and smiled softly.

“But now I do. Here. With you guys. I feel like I belong.”

Andy smiled back, his voice warm. “You’re one of us, Sammy. Always.”

Joey added, “And you’re stronger than you think. Not just because of the training—but because you kept going.”

Roger grinned. “Plus, you’re the only one who can probably take Brent down with one hand tied behind your back.”

They all laughed, and Sammy felt something settle inside him—a sense of peace, of connection. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was just surviving. He felt like he was living.

OOOOO