Chapter 17

7 1 10
                                    

Irwin Pristine

The blazing dust blew past me. My skin seared under the dreadful glare of the sun. I wished it was night, but I guessed that was asking for too much. My head carried a heavy load as I stared out into the field. 

The Doctor Bird’s receiver captured forty yards, an embarrassment.

We were losing.

Donavan groaned from behind me. This was not good. 

“Yo,” I heard him saying. 

It was then I looked back and saw Donavan motioning to me to come. Mason and Jake were already there.  

Donavan said, “Okay, we need to find a better way to break this deadlock.”

Jake wagged his head before saying, “I think that is pointless no matter how you think about it. Even if we score. They will just score back. We need to stop their drive out there.”

Donavan sighed, the defeat heavy on his face. “I—"

An uproar of cheers rose over our depressed heads. Guess that was another touchdown. Donavan’s eyes widened. He stared over our heads with such intensity we all looked behind us. 

In the ensuing chaos of bodies near the endzone, our defensive linesmen were jumping around. Leon Jackson was walking towards us.

They stripped the ball from the quarterback in a sack. Donavan had done a fist pump and motioned at me. “Alright listen we have to make this count. Here is what we do. Mason go to the line, tell them single set back. ”

Mason ran out. Jake turned his head towards the stands. “They might not fall for it.”

Donavan said, “I will throw short to you.” Jake gave Donavan an annoyed stare. Donavan gave him a nod of the head. “You will get your marching orders in the huddle.”

Jake waved his arms upward in exasperation and left towards the field. I was about to follow him, but Donavan grabbed my jersey and said, “Prix?”

I turned. Donavan stared at me. I fidgeted.  He was probably pissed at me for my last fumble. That was not even my fault. I was tackled by four men, four, not one, four. That was too much pressure anyways. It was not like I was being protected or anything. 

“Look over there.” I followed his eyes. The team stood on the field ready for us. “See everybody still a sweat out there a try win. You are our best option. You know that right?”

I struggled to speak. 

“You want to win?” he asked. 

“Of course.”

Donavan cut his eyes and said, “Then win.” Walking past me, I was the last one left off the field. I breathed out. All this damn pressure and I had to be making mountains out of molehills. 

I gathered my wits about me and ran out. We all lined up and there was a nauseating tinge that felt surprising. The play ran and Donavan threw for six yards to Mason on the first. 

It was a short throw, nothing special. On the second play, Donavan threw to another player, but he dropped it. 

Third down, I looked beyond Doctor Bird’s players. We came out of the huddle and I understood some of what he said. This game was confusing and I struggled to catch my breath running in this insidious heat. 

We lined up and snapped. He got Jake on the edge, then Jake twisted and cut through two other defenders and got an extra eleven yards with his original four-yard catch.

I quivered on when I would be next. Hopefully not on the next play. I was nervous at the fact that I might have screwed up. Worse in front of Vanessa, she was supposed to be watching the game and I fumbled the ball while she was watching. 

Donavan gave us the marching orders. Good, it was not me this time. We set and lined up again.

One of our players ran to one side of the field in motion. The Doctor Bird’s players had not followed him as usual though. Donavan turned his head, but quickly retracted it back to its original state. It was silent with a few cheers here and there over the encroaching stiffness.

Donavan shouted, “Thirty-five, six!”

My attention peaked at that. Donavan turned his head to Jake.  

Was that Donavan’s left hand, for I saw the fingers indicating a number, two. My gloves clamed up, not because I was frightened to move to the beat of this team’s drum. No, that play was unknown to me.

Was it the bootleg or—I squeezed my forehead muscles in some desperate attempt to remember. Damn it, my memory failed me.

I breathed in and steeled myself. 

Do not screw up.

Do not screw up.

“Hut!”

I ran towards Donavan, but I hesitated noticing him making the motions to throw. Then he turned, ball in hand, I cupped up my hands together like Hill taught me and swept the ball up. My legs moved quickly as I sped around the ballooning line of men. I cut around one player’s grasping hand. 

Three people, one in the far northeast, one turning back from chasing Mason, the closest tried to ram into me. I jetted to the side, thereby avoiding the body slam.

My destination was in sight.

I needed a route, I needed a route, I needed a route…

Skating my feet just barely against the grass, I kept on the field. The eastern player was coming straight at me, while the other one was running diagonally.

Which should I avoid first? 

Move forward, no, cut right, no, no, not yet, move forward, move forward…

I pumped my legs eagerly against the field in a spirited run. Diagonally, he reached, I pulled sideways, hopped on one foot, and turned. Bulleting past that eastern player, he slid behind me as the only path for me was north.

Not a soul was in front of me. I ran to a myriad chorus of cheers and shouts.  Breathing heavy, my feet, I never felt them. It was serene almost as if I was levitating. 

And it was over. The grass crunched under my feet, and was soon suppressed by a lovely uproar. I slowed to see the official lift his arms up in response. 

“Touchdoooooown!” the announcer bellowed.

My breathing hitched as my chest steeled to raising claps and noise. I was swarmed by the other Assassin players. Pushed and pulled in rabid pandemonium. Cries of joy ensued around me, and I rocked to the convulsions of their excitement.

Donavan pushed through the players shouting their praises into my muddled brain. I was hugged tightly within Donavan's grasp.

"You did it!" Donavan shouted. I tried to pull myself free, but soon I lulled to his excitement and gratitude.

His words echoed in my mind. My eyes blinked, as I caught sight of the player's joyful faces over Donavan's head.

It's been a while since I felt this, this appreciation.

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