Chapter 21

Dumphries came by Zach’s house on Sunday morning just as Zach was heading out the door for a run. It was nice to see his friend, much nicer than Zach would have expected it to be. “I think I’ll skip the run,” Zach said after Dumphries was inside. “It’s not doing me any good anymore anyway.”

“No way,” Dumphries said. “Remember you told me you can’t take a day off?”

“Well, maybe one day off won’t hurt,” Zach said with a weak laugh.

“Come on,” Dumphries said. “You threw the band away for this. You’ve got to stick to it. You can’t keep dropping out of stuff.”

“Geez, Toby,” Zach said. “Mellow out. What are you, my coach?”

“I’m just saying,” Dumphries replied.

“Yeah, you sure are,” Zach said.

“Get going, will you?” Dumphries said. “I’ll feel like hell if you don’t. I’ll be here when you get back.”

The roads were white from so many pre-snowstorm treatments over recent weeks. During the four-mile run Zach was able to avoid most of the slush and ice but not all of it. By the time he was back at home his sneakers were wet and his sweats were speckled with salt and mud. He wiped his runny nose on a sleeve before opening the door. His lungs burned after sucking in so much cold air. Knowing his mom could tell if he sat on the couch in those dirty sweats, he pulled them and his shoes off at the door before plopping onto the couch in his underwear. His red face tingled as his skin recovered from exposure to the cold February air.

“Wow, you’re covered with rock salt,” Dumphries said. “It’s a tough world out there.”

“You should have seen what they dump on the roads where we were in Pennsylvania,” Zach said. “One of our guys had to go out and run some weight off. When he got back he was black as coal below the waist. I think it was coal.”

“So how’s the wrestling going anyway?” Dumphries asked. “It’s probably in the paper but I never know where to look.”

“I’ve really been in the crapper lately,” Zach told him. “It’s been a while since I’ve won a match.”

“Hey, have you won one since you quit the band?” Dumphries asked. “Maybe we’re your good luck charm.”

“I wish you would stop saying I quit,” Zach said. “You kind of forced my hand, don’t you think?”

“We did?” Dumphries asked. “I thought it was your coach.”

“He was on me all year about it,” Zach said. “But I didn’t listen. But then there was that day when I showed up for practice and some other dude was playing my bass.”

Dumphries sighed. “That sucked,” he agreed. “That was all Joe. Bo and I didn’t know a thing about it.”

“So how’s he doing now?” Zach asked as he pulled two sweatshirts over his head and dropped them onto the floor. “My replacement, I mean? Is he doing any better?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dumphries said. “He gets all flustered when Joe nags him, which is pretty much all the time. Then he sounds all squeaky because he’s nervous. He hasn’t learned to tell Joe to shove it like the rest of us did.”

“It’s tough being the new guy,” Zach said.

“We’re playing that club in Philly again next weekend,” Dumphries said. “We’re actually getting paid this time.”

“We’re actually getting paid this time,” Zach repeated in a nasal voice as a smile broke out on his face. “Man, you guys need a manager.” He scooped up the clothes he’d shed and headed towards his room. “Let me change real quick,” he said. “I’m soaked.” He returned two minutes later wearing jeans and a thermal shirt, covered by the layer of flannel he always preferred.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked Dumphries as he passed through towards the kitchen. “I need some water.”

“No, I’m good,” Dumphries said. “The club is actually pretty cool,” he said, speaking loudly so Zach could hear him in the kitchen. “It must have been some kind of theatre before. They left most of the seats in. It’s like playing a concert, except for the people stuffing wings and French fries in their face.”

“Cool,” Zach yelled back. “You’ve come along way since teen club dances.”

“Not really,” Dumphries replied. “But at least we’re not playing for free.”

~~~

Coach Hancock walked into the Firehouse on Monday and looked around. When he spotted Zach stretching in the corner he immediately headed in that direction. Zach had been wondering for two days what the reaction to his Saturday meltdown was going to be, and it looked like he was about to find out.

“Hey,” he said to Hancock as he came over.

“What’s up, Zach?” Hancock said. “Feeling any better?”

“Not really,” Zach said.

“You’ve lost a few,” Hancock said. “You can’t let it get to you. You’ve been drawing the tough match lately, that’s all. It’s not like other sports. Even if the other team isn’t any good they might have a couple of studs. And you keep getting one of them.”

“I hope that’s it,” Zach said. “But I beat that guy last year, the guy from Saturday. That’s the one that kills me.”

“I hear you,” Hancock said. “I know you talked about it with Tim already. Everything he told you is on the money. That was a good wrestler you lost to.”

“I hope so,” Zach said. He was relieved that there were no hard feelings about how he had acted on Saturday, at least with the coaches. Now he just wanted the conversation to end.

“You know it’s not going to get any easier on Wednesday, don’t you?” Hancock asked. “You’ll probably catch Homestead if his ankle is okay.”

“Who?” Zach asked.

“Jake Homestead,” Hancock said. “He won regions last year. He’s been out for a few weeks but I heard he wrestled on Saturday. Wrestle hard and don’t blow a fuse if it doesn’t go your way. Show some dignity instead of throwing a tantrum. That’s part of what this sport is all about. Okay?”

Zach thought Hancock had made it all sound too simple but knew life would be easier if he kept that to himself. Besides, maybe Hancock was right. It took off some of the pressure about the next match too, he thought. “Okay, Coach,” he said. “I’ll keep my cool this time.”

“Good man,” Hancock said. “Forget about Saturday. That’s ancient history, buddy.”

~~~

When Zach saw Beth in the lobby after practice on Tuesday he never hesitated. She was admiring the trophies again. As he approached her he wondered if she was waiting for him to come by. He unzipped his coat as he walked over to where she was. He could see when he was close that she was watching his reflection in the glass.

“Hi,” Zach said.

“Oh, hi,” Beth said after turning around. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah,” Zach said. “So what are you up to?”

“Just the usual,” she said. “School, basketball.”

“I’ve been at some of your games,” Zach said.

“I saw you,” Beth answered. “The guy who never sits.”

“Anyway, I wanted to tell you about that girl you saw me with,” Zach said.

“You told me before,” Beth said. “You’re just friends, right?”

“I know it doesn’t always look that way,” Zach said. “It’s hard to explain it, about how she acts.”

“She’s a little spacy,” Beth said. “That’s what you told me before.”

“That’s about right,” Zach replied. “She’s nice and all but sometimes I have no idea what she’s thinking. It gets embarrassing sometimes. I don’t know where it comes from. I used to think she was always high but it isn’t that. That’s just how she is.”

“It’s no big deal to me,” Beth said. “I think it’s kind of funny.”

Zach had planned on telling her why it was a big deal to him but it didn’t seem like a good idea anymore. She didn’t seem to care. “Cool,” he said instead.

“I better get going,” she said.

“Yeah, sure,” Zach said. “I’ll be at your next game.”

“Great,” she replied. “See ya.” She suddenly looked as though she was in a hurry as she hustled away from the trophy case and out the door.

~~~

“He looks like a mummy,” Coach Crisfield said just before sending Zach onto the mat for the match against Jake Homestead. Even though he was nervous and worried, Zach snorted because Crisfield was right. He could see through the openings of Homestead’s singlet that there was an ace bandage wrapped around his rib cage. He also had a taped wrist on one side and a few taped fingers on the other. Heavy white pads covered both knees. Presumably there was a heavily taped ankle inside one of his red wrestling shoes. Homestead was a either hypochondriac, a battle-tested competitor, or one of the most fragile wrestlers Zach would ever face.

Earlier Coach Hancock had stressed that the best chance Zach had at success against Homestead was to wrestle defensively, much like Sanibel had a few days earlier. “He’s quick as can be,” Hancock had said, “and he’ll never stop attacking. You won’t have to worry about getting called for stalling. He’ll do enough for both of you. Just try to squeeze something in if he stops to think,” he had said with a laugh.

After their terse conversation on Monday Zach had no expectation that Beth would come to the match. When the team warmed up beforehand, though, he saw her there. Mark Easton pointed her out while the wrestlers were stretching their hamstrings. “Hey Burnout. Your girlfriend’s here,” he said, leaving Zach to wonder whether he was referring to Beth or Jeanine. He nonchalantly turned in that direction just before settling onto the mat for spinning drills. Sure enough, Beth was sitting alone in the top row with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. She didn’t move when he looked but he thought she was watching him watch her.

Homestead dove at Zach’s ankle instantly after the match started, and picked it up effortlessly before Zach was able to evade. Zach clinched Homestead’s upper body and hopped on his free leg. He thought Homestead would try to trip that leg but instead he used his own weight to pull Zach down in the other direction. Rather than risk being put on his back Zach surrendered the two takedown points and turned away into his base position.

After establishing control Homestead reached through Zach’s legs and grabbed Zach’s wrist. With his other arm he dug an elbow into Zach’s kidney and hooked the trapped arm. With that tilt hold in place all he had to do was lean. When he did, Zach’s back was exposed to the mat. Homestead held Zach in place long enough to earn a set of three back points before relinquishing the hold. Zach quickly stood up and broke free, cutting Homestead’s lead to 5-1. The two wrestlers tied up at the center of the mat but neither attempted any moves before the first period was over.

Zach was annoyed that Homestead had worked that tilt. That was a move intended only for running up points with little possibility for a pin. He’d prefer that his opponent try to pin him rather than embarrass him by building up a big lead with fancy moves. If he tried something like that again Zach decided that an elbow or fist to the face would make his feelings clear to Homestead. He’d already lost three in a row. The last thing he was going to put up with was being humiliated in his own gym.

Homestead chose to begin the second period in neutral position. He tried another quick shot, just as he had done at the start of the match, but this time Zach was ready. He sprawled perfectly, kicking his feet out of reach and landing on Homestead’s back. He scooted behind but just before he had earned a takedown Homestead reached and grabbed Zach’s leg. A stalemate call was coming but Zach took the opportunity to send a message. He swung his forearm hard into the side of Homestead’s face. The referee immediately blew the whistle to stop the match. “That’s a punch! You can’t wind up like that!” he said to Zach before signaling for a penalty point to be awarded to Homestead. Zach considered protesting that he was only applying a legal cross face but didn’t, because he knew the referee was right.

“Zach!” Crisfield yelled onto the mat as the referee walked both wrestlers back to the center for a restart. When Zach looked over Crisfield nodded emphatically and pushed his hands repeatedly towards the mat with his palms-down. Zach understood that he was being told to settle down, and nodded back in the affirmative. The wrestlers shook hands and the bout resumed with Zach trailing by 6-1.

This time Zach shot first. Homestead was able to get a hand on his forehead, slowing down Zach’s lunge. Zach was able to reach one of Homestead’s legs, but only enough to brush it as Homestead pushed down on Zach’s head and circled behind for a takedown. After the points were awarded he let go and used a two-handed shove to push Zach forward onto his face. Zach realized that Homestead was toying with him and he got angry all over again. As the two faced off from neutral position, Zach grabbed the fingers that were taped together on Homestead’s left hand. He squeezed hard, hoping to inflict some pain, but didn’t get any reaction. Instead, Homestead tried to use that hand against Zach by pushing it outwards and ducking underneath it. Zach simply backed away and let go of the hand. The period ended with no change, leaving the score at 8-2.

Crisfield signaled for Zach to choose bottom position for the final period, which he promptly did. If Homestead tried one of those cute tilts instead of coming after him, Zach knew he’d have a hard time keeping his anger in check. When Homestead purposely let him escape, presumably so he could then add to his lead by scoring a takedown, Zach had had enough. He climbed to his feet and turned to face Homestead. He reached as though going for a tie-up but instead pushed hard at Homestead’s shoulders with both hands, momentarily driving him back on his heels. When there was no reaction he reached to do it again. This time Homestead expected it. He ducked under an arm and slipped behind Zach. When he locked hands and tripped Zach backwards the referee quickly awarded Homestead two points for the takedown. With less than a minute of wrestling left Zach was being routed by a score of 10-3.

For the remainder of the match Homestead used a spiral ride to control Zach without actively working for the pin. Knowing the outcome was no longer in question, the referee chose not to penalize Homestead for stalling. After the final seconds ticked off and the buzzer sounded Homestead again shoved Zach away hard. Zach scrambled to his feet and charged at Homestead but the referee grabbed him from behind. “Any more nonsense from either of you is going to cost a team point,” he said in a voice loud enough for both benches to hear. Zach didn’t care about team points but he was tired and embarrassed. But he remembered Hancock’s words about keeping his dignity and decided to let it go. After Homestead’s arm was raised Zach slithered off the mat with no further confrontation.

~~~

“Tough one,” Betterton said to Zach after walking over from his own locker.

“Big deal,” Zach said. “What’s one more loss to me?”

“I don’t think Homestead’s lost since states last year,” Betterton said. “Of all the ones you lost, this is the one you shouldn’t even worry about.”

“He pissed me off,” Zach said. “I don’t mind a guy coming right at me and whipping me. This guy did a lot of weasel moves on me. Then he’s letting me up, making me look like a Bozo.”

“Zach, it’s part of the sport,” Betterton said. “You can’t take it personal like this. He’s not trying to show you up. It’s just how he wrestles. You lost your cool out there and that made it worse.”

“I tried to squeeze his bum fingers, did you see that?” Zach asked, smiling for the first time all day.

Betterton laughed. “You mean the ones he had taped?”

“Yeah,” Zach said. “Hopefully he felt a little pain, at least.”

“Probably not,” Betterton said. “He’s superstitious. Everything that he’s ever injured gets taped up for every match. His fingers probably recovered five years ago, but he tapes them up for every match anyway.”

“Great,” Zach said. “I can’t even cheat right.”

“Keep your cool, Zach,” Betterton said. “Okay? Everybody loses matches. You’re still having a good season.”

Zach appreciated Betterton’s words more this time. He was upset about the way he’d been beaten that night, and even more upset that he’d lost four in a row. It was nice that somebody on his team still thought enough of him to try to talk him through it. Even so, the only thing that was really going to help was a victory. The way things were going he felt like he’d never win another one again.

As he walked along the sidewalk towards home Zach found himself wishing he had a closer relationship with somebody on the team. Betterton looked out for him out of a sense of duty, but he probably didn’t think of Zach as a friend. Usually Zach liked being a loner but at times like this it didn’t feel very good. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a passing truck that slow down momentarily. Without bothering to look up from the sidewalk he imagined a couple of teammates yelling out the window for him to hop in. By the time Zach finished adjusting his jacket collar and pulling his AC-DC knit cap further down over his ears the car had resumed its speed and was gone.

~~~

“Just a couple more weeks until districts,” Easton said as he eased the truck out of the parking lot. “I’m ready, too. Let’s get it done. I’m hungry.”

“Hey, isn’t that Bowie?” Kevin Salisbury said of the hunched figure walking down the sidewalk. “It is,” he said as they passed by. “Where’s he going?”

“He lives down there,” Easton said. “In one of those beat-up little houses. I had to pick him up a few weeks ago. We went to a party together.”

“You were right about him,” Salisbury said. “What a loser. Did you see him out there tonight? It’s always like it’s a street fight to him.”

“He’s got a mean streak,” Easton said. “I’ve been on the wrong end of it a few times. But he’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

What are you talking about?” Salisbury asked. “I heard him telling Betterton that he tried to break Homestead’s injured fingers. You should have seen his face when Betterton told him.”

“He can be pretty nutty,” Easton said. “No two ways about it.”

“He’s a bad influence on the younger guys,” Salisbury said. “What if they start acting like that? If I were the coach I’d have thrown him off the team a long time ago. He’s bad news. You were right all along, the team would be better off without him.”

Easton didn’t say anything more.