One Moonlit Night - 10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

School was flying by that day, at least for me. Bobby and Chris joined Scotty, me, Gordon and Michelle at lunch. Bobby, a little subdued, just picked at his food and didn’t have too much to say. After much teasing and joking around with one another and with lunch just about over, Bobby, his head lowered and in a somewhat whiny voice said, “Ya’ know guys, I’m not feeling very good. I think I’m gonna’ tell coach I don’t think I should wrestle tonight.”

Well, that remark certainly got everyone’s attention.

“Whaaaaaaat?” Chris with disbelief practically yelled. “You can’t do that!”

“What do you mean I can’t do that? I don’t feel good. I don’t want to let the team down,” Bobby feebly expressed.

“Bobby, we all know you’re nervous and maybe even a little scared, we all have been there. You worked too hard to throw in the towel now. I don’t care, and I know the rest of the team doesn’t care, if you win or lose. You will let the team down if you back out at the last minute, so, enough with the quitting crap. Besides, you’ll look cool in your tight Lycra wrestling uniform,” I added to bring some levity.

Bobby taken aback by my confrontation, said, “Yeah, I know, Bash, it’s just I’m so scared. To top it off, my mom and dad will be there too.”

“Well, the latest data on parents getting rid of their kids if they lost a wrestling match, well, let me see,” as I feigned paging through documents, “hmmm, just as I thought, none so far. I think they’d love and be proud to say ‘That’s my boy out there’ rather than, ‘That was supposed to be my boy out there in the cool Lycra outfit’.”

Bobby gave a slight giggle and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chris reach over and squeeze his thigh under the table. Bobby acknowledged the affectionate gesture by a giving Chris a quick but warm smile. Neither subtlety was lost on Scotty or me, as he nudged my knee.

At school’s end, we all gathered in the gym for that night’s meet. We were informed a water pipe had burst in the girl’s locker room. That meant the opposing team would be sharing our space. The coach divided the locker room in half and said the other team would get the lockers closest to the door. They would be entering the gym first as they were the visiting team. Those who had their lockers in that area should make sure they were clean and free of any personal belongings. He also admonished us not to leave any ‘surprises’ or the culprit or culprits could look forward to doing extra laps. The process was accomplished with some groans and mumbled complaints about the inconvenience. I personally didn’t think the few feet we had to move was that big of a deal.

Following the shift in space, we went to the wrestling room where the coaches put us through a very mild work out before we donned our wrestling garb. After putting on our singlets, we then returned to the wrestling room to wait for the meet to begin and get some final instructions.

Fifteen minutes or so before the match was to begin; Scotty went to the locker room to wish me luck and was confused by the presence of the unfamiliar people. One of the wrestlers saw Scotty and said, “Oh, who do we have here? Were you sent here to take care of this, Blondie?” As he grabbed his crotch and took a step toward Scotty.

Scotty was startled by the affront and in an attempt to ignore it went to go around his brash confronter. But the wrestler, with a sneer on his face, stepped in his path to prevent him from proceeding.

Scotty boldly said, “Please, get out of my way. I don’t want any trouble. I’m looking for our team.”

“And if I don’t get out of the way…?”

“Come on, Jake, I’d get out of his way or…”

“Ah, shut up Bailey. What’s he gonna do about it?”

Just then their coach came in the locker room and seeing that there was some sort of commotion hollered, “What’s going on here?” On seeing Scotty, he said,

“Oh, hi Scott. Being admired by your fans?”

“Hi, Mr. Masterson. Well, I don’t think so. This Neanderthal thinks I’m here to service him.”

“WHAT?” Coach Masterson, with disbelief, yelled as he glared at Jake Fairing.

He then turned to Jake and said, “Do you know who this is? Does anyone here not know who Scott Tucker is?” He inquired loudly.

“He’s probably the best musician in the state,” someone stated.

“He’s Officer Phil’s son,” another voice added.

Just then Junior walked in and greeted the opposing team’s coach.

“Hi, Coach Masterson, I’m sorry about tonight’s accommodations. I hope everything is okay,” he stated, as he laid his hand on Scotty’s shoulder.

“Well, Coach Tucker”, he said with emphasis, still glaring at Jake…

And yet another voice piped in, “Oh, yeah, and he’s the other team’s coach’s younger brother.”

Junior gave a questioning look and Coach Masterson said, “I think we will be forfeiting Jacob Fairing’s match.”

“What?” Jake yelled. “You can’t…”

“I can and I will. Now, I don’t want to hear another word from you Fairing. You have caused enough problems. You have embarrassed this team and our school by your actions. If you say one more word you’ll be off the squad entirely and you will be spending the rest of your high school years in detention. You got that?”

“Uh, ah, Coach Masterson?’ Scotty interrupted, “Who would Fairing be wrestling?”

Looking at his clipboard he perused the list and said, “Sebastian Cocchetti.”

“Well, you know, I think you should let him wrestle. Ba..Sebastian is our neighbor and we will have to listen to him whine and complain all night. Won’t we Junior?”

“Well, yeah, but this is Coach Masterson’s call, Scotty.”

Turning to Jake Fairing, Coach Masterson seemed to be mulling over what he should do. He then said, “When our matches are over I expect you to apologize for your despicable behavior toward Scott, and also to your fellow team members. Is that understood, Fairing?”

“Yeah sure, Coach, I understand,” he said with a tad of bitterness, more so than with remorse.

“I’ll talk with you later Scott, and I’m really sorry about this.”

“No, problem Mr. Masterson, see you after the match. Now I’d better get out there as I’m playing the National Anthem.”

As Scotty and Junior made their way to the gymnasium, some of the other wrestlers quietly told Scotty they were sorry for what happened. Junior asked him what transpired and Scotty related the incident then, with an evil grin, said, “Don’t say anything to Bash or he’ll kill him. Though I will say I’m gonna’ get some vicarious pleasure watching Bash beat his ass.”

“Hmmm, oh, so being magnanimous wasn’t your sole motive?” Junior replied with a grin.

“Now, now Coach Tucker, are you questioning my motives for wanting young Mr. Fairing to wrestle? Shame on you,” he said with a sly smile.

Junior swatted his young brother on the butt and told him to go get ready to play. He then walked over to the auxiliary gym to join his team and gave us a pep talk. After the “rah, rah” speech we entered the gymnasium to a clamber of hoots, applause and cheers. We jogged out, formed a circle and did some stretches and warm up exercises to show off our masculine prowess, before taking our seats on the opposite side of the mat from the opposing team. Junior pulled me aside and said he had a favor to ask of me.

“Bash, I want you to wrestle your guy. I know you like to go for the quick pin. However, I want you to not only pin him, but I also want you to wear him down and rack up a bunch of points before you do. Oh, and you don’t have to be delicate with him either.”

“Uh, sure Junior. Do you mind if I ask why?”

“I think it’ll be good for you to work on your stamina… and, well, the guy you’re wrestling has a real attitude problem.”

“You got it, Coach,” I replied with smile.

When Scotty was finished playing the Star Spangled Banner for which he received a warm round of applause, he went and took a seat next to Michelle, along with other friends on the bleachers.

The first two matches resulted in each team having a win. Up next was Bobby and he was still nervous, but he couldn’t help but notice the team was very supportive of both the wrestlers before him; one a win and one a loss. We gathered around each wrestler before they went to the mat to give them some encouragement—a mini ‘rah, rah’ speech. Before Bobby went on the mat I quietly whispered to him, “Bobby, see how tall and gangly he is?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, let him go for you first. He’ll go to grab you behind your knees. As soon as you see him make his move, side step slightly, get behind him and take him down. You’ll know what to do next, believe me. Now go get ‘im Tiger!”

Both being first time wrestlers, they both nervously circled for a few moments and just as I predicted, Bobby’s opponent went for his knees. Bobby did side step him and as the kid was off balance, Bobby took him down easily. He got two points for the take down and a roar of applause went up from the crowd. I had never seen Bobby move so fast as he immediately hooked his arms around the kid’s one arm, tying him up. As he learned at practice, he splayed his legs out so he couldn’t be easily moved or rolled in to. The other boy did try to arch up but Bobby had him pinned. The ref did his count and both boys stood and shook hands. Bobby was in a daze, as it seemed over before it got started. Chris Kreider was about to wet his Lycra suit and was screaming his head off. The entire team patted him on the back and congratulated him. Chris gave him a hug. I gave him a huge smile, a thumbs up and mouthed ‘I knew you could do it!’ Bobby, still dazed, waved to his parents who also had big grins. Scotty and Michelle gave him the, way-to-go, fist in the air gesture.

The most enjoyable part of the meet was observing Bobby Arnold watch Chris Kreider’s match. Chris was matched up with a formidable opponent. They were probably the most equally matched guys all night. Bobby mentally was on the mat with Chris. As he watched, his body squirmed in that imaginary way of going through the various moves and holds. Chris eventually won on points and Bobby was so excited I thought he was going to run out on the mat to congratulate him. Though he was attempting to control his enthusiasm, he had a smile as wide as the Grand Canyon as he hugged Chris as he returned to our bench.

When it was my turn to face my guy, we had only lost one other match since Bobby wrestled. I immediately picked up on Junior’s assessment of my opponent. As he shook my hand, he was trying to apply pressure to cause pain. He then informed me with a snarling whisper that he was going to teach me what it meant to be a wrestler; I just gave him my best smile. In my head I was saying, ‘Hell, I can bench press you.’

Now in high school wrestling, you cannot pick some one up and slam them to the mat, but if you take them down and your one knee is on the mat, well, they just might land hard if you time and apply force correctly. Once he was down, I eased up a little to let him think he could escape and I then would pull up on his ankle, forearm on his back and slam his chest and sometimes his face into the mat. I could have easily pinned him but did as Junior instructed and just rode him. I picked up another point for controlling him for the first minute. We then went to our down stance—hands and knees. Jake was in the top position. He placed his hand near my elbow, and again was applying pressure—more than was necessary—and wrapped his arm around my waist. Immediately when the ref blew his whistle I did a sit out, swung up over him and got two points for a reversal. I, again, pulled up on his ankle forcing him into the mat and I heard a gasping, “oomph!” from the move. I again controlled him for two minutes and received another point. We again assumed the down position, this time I was on top. I placed my hand above his elbow and wrapped my arm firmly around his waist. When the ref blew his whistle, Jake tried to do a sit out but I immediately reached between his legs, grabbing the far one and threw a half-nelson on him and rolled him on his back. I intentionally didn’t pin him but allowed him to arch and raise his one shoulder off the mat. Jake squirmed and arched his back, but I maintained control and was awarded another two points for a near fall. Just before the two minutes were up, I drove his other shoulder into the mat for the two-second count and got the pin.

Jake Fairing was not happy. Additionally, he was a sore loser. He was about to walk away without shaking hands but the ref gave him a very stern look. I, with a fake gracious smile and fake sincerity, thanked him for the wrestling lesson.

I looked at both Junior and Scotty and they had these very “shit-eating” grins on their faces. Uncle Phil had managed to take his break to coincide with my match and he mouthed, “Way to go,” and gave me a huge smile, pointed at his watch and indicated he had to leave but would see us all later. Scotty had told his father what had happened in the locker room earlier with Jake Fairing.

I, of course, got the team’s congratulations and pats on the butt and back. Chris came up to me, gave his congratulations, and quietly asked why I didn’t pin him sooner. I explained that Coach wanted me to work on my stamina and instructed me to go the full five minutes. He gave me a strange look, then just shrugged his shoulders and reaffirmed his congratulations for my victory.

The meet over, we finished with 13 wins and two losses. Coach had asked us not be too overly rambunctious in the locker room; after all, we were sharing it with the losing team. They knew they lost and there was no need to rub their noses in it. Coach Hastinger knew he was asking a lot, especially, of testosterone filled young victorious warriors who were on a great adrenaline high.

To say there were some very happy souls would be an understatement. Chris and Bobby could barely contain their exuberance for one another. Bobby’s parents were beside themselves with glee. Not only because their son won, but also, for so long Bobby was the little-fat-picked-on-kid. This was a victory for Bobby proving to himself with hard work, perseverance, and teamwork he could accomplish something. They were happy to see him coming out of his shell—the shell he created to protect himself, however, a shell that also imprisoned him. Scotty, of course, was happy I was victorious for more than one reason. He was also elated Bobby had won.

Chris with his arm over Bobby’s shoulder walked into the locker room, both still enthusiastically chatting away about their matches. Billy Farmer our 185 lb-er—nice loveable galoot that he is and somewhat dimwitted—upon seeing Chris and Bobby, blurted, “What is it with you two? Are you queer for each other?”

A hot poker couldn’t have separated them faster. Both had a look of fear and embarrassment as they pulled away.

“Hey you guys,” I quickly interrupted, “Billy’s just jealous because no one hugged him after he won. Come over here Billy and let me give you a big hug for slaughtering your guy.”

“Aah, cut it out Bash, I was teasin’ ‘em! Hey, you two squirts, I was just jokin’ with ya’. Oh, and Bobby, you did great; you too Chris.”

They became a bit more relaxed after Billy apologized, however kept their distance from one another while still in the locker room. I was surprised Chris didn’t lay into Billy for his remark. His lack of verbal attack on Billy was yet another inkling for me that his feelings for Bobby were more than platonic.

Billy really was a big Teddy bear. He thought the world of Scotty and me. Both of us helped tutor him on various subjects so he could keep a high enough grade to stay on the wrestling and track teams. Billy wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t learn as quickly or grasp things as fast as most people. If it took me five minutes to learn something, it could take Billy up to an hour to get it. Once he got it though, he rarely forgot. He was one of my favorite people and over the years we had become very good friends.

Scotty and Michelle were still in the gym chatting it up and waiting for Junior and me when Coach Masterson approached and ask if Scotty would accompany him to the auxiliary gym. Excusing himself from Michelle, he trailed after the coach.

Coach Masterson had assembled his team and brought Jake Fairing in front of them. Scotty, at this point, pulled Coach Masterson aside and asked if he could talk with Jake alone for a few moments. With some reluctance, he granted Scotty his request and watched as Scott asked Jake to follow him.

Seemingly perturbed, Jake followed. Once beyond the earshot of his other team members Scotty addressed him. “Jake, I don’t know what your problem is. Additionally, I don’t want you to apologize because you were forced to do it and if you aren’t sincere. I just want you to know that being harassed by someone some 35 lbs. heavier and several inches taller than me, and in such a demeaning way was scary. Like I said, I don’t know why you get your kicks picking on someone smaller than you, but if you want to make friends, I suggest you work on your approach and delivery a little better.”

With that, Scotty turned and walked away.

Jake confused, stunned, and taken aback by the comeuppance, from this spunky little blond, sauntered back to the auxiliary gym cogitating what Scotty had said to him. After re-entering the auxiliary gym he hesitated, then turned toward his teammates, and shakily and with true remorse stated, “I want you guys, and you too Coach, to know that I’m sorry for my…”Jake choked up, then continued…For my being an asshole and my bad behavior. I promise I’ll never act that way again.”

He then hung his head and stood there. Coach Masterson went over and put his arms over his contrite wrestler’s shoulder, leading him away from the team after dismissing them.

“Jacob, if you need to talk about anything—maybe what’s upsetting you—know you can come to me. My door is always open.”

With that he released his hold on Jake and went back to the locker room.

A few minutes later I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and Jake Fairing stood fidgeting. He apologized for being a real jerk and congratulated me on my win. I thanked him and said we probably would meet again and maybe next time it would be on the bottom. He then asked me if I knew where a Scott Tucker might be, as he needed to talk to him. Curious as to his request I started to ask him why he would want to talk to my boyfriend. I then decided against it and told him I thought he might find him in the gym by the bleachers. He thanked me and made his way to the gymnasium.

Scotty and Michelle were still jabbering away when Jake approached. He excused himself and with sincerity made his apologies to Scotty.

“Scott, I’m really sorry for what I did. Sorry, I scared you and made those rude comments.”

Scotty gazed into Jake’s eyes and could tell he was being forthright. He reached his hand out, they shook and Scotty accepted his apology. Jake apologized for his interrupting their conversation and left.

Later we were to discover that Jake’s dad was living his life vicariously through his son. When his son didn’t measure up, though he never physically abused him, he did berate and humiliate him unmercifully. This treatment over time, as with Stanley Polanski, took its toll. I won’t say it was Scotty’s brief discussion with him that turned him around, but I’m certain it had something to do with him eventually opening up to his coach and telling him about his father. We never learned how or what the coach did, but whatever it was, Jake’s attitude did improve and he seemed happier and more content the few times we saw him after that day.