Tiger thought a moment, but it wasn’t from any careful thought process that his next words to the boy would emerge, he knew it. They would flow naturally, without his knowing it. That was the way, always. He waited for them.
‘‘She’s inside you,” he said, quietly, finally, ‘‘Poor Jill’s inside you,” he also said, “You’re mourning her.”
A pause, as he observed the boy.
“I guess that’s it,” Ponce said, from under the floorboards.
“You might feel pretty low for some time,” now Tiger said, “That’s normal.”
The boy shook his head. “I know I won't sleep tonight I know I won’t eat. I know that.” He said.
“It’s been a kick in the teeth, alright” Tiger said.
“Oh man, it has,” said the lad.
“That’s life, Ponce,” Tiger now said, very gently. “That’s how it is sometimes,” He paused, then added, “Lots of times,” more quietly than ever.
“I guess so,” the lad said, mumbling the words, and then sitting quietly, looking down still.
They sat in silence.
“You know what, Ponce?” Tiger suddenly said, after a while.
“What?” Ponce asked, more or less.
“You know that T-Fifty-four Decoy Line Buck Left And Cross Right On Three—?”
The lad looked up.
“Yeh, Tiger?”
Tiger leaned forward, flipping through his file until he found what he was looking for. He spread the diagram of the play before him on the desk. He tapped his finger on it.
“You know that shift you suggested—between left tackle and left guard—involving the quarterback and their line backers—you know that—”
The boy was looking at the diagram.
“Right, Tiger—” he said.
“Well, that’s the one I really want to work on next Practice—I don’t want any of them to know until we actually start scrimmage—I want to spring it on them— see what I mean?”
“Right, Tiger—” the boy said.
“No one knows about it, do they, Ponce?”
Pretty Maids All in a Row 83 “Not that I know of. I haven’t mentioned it. Not to anyone,” the lad said.
“Great! And that’s how we’ll keep it. Don’t mention it. I think it’s a great one. I can’t wait to spring it—”
Ponce nodded his head. He was grinning. He was emerging from under these floorboards.
“It all depends on the quarterback. The quarterback, Tiger,” the boy said.
“I know it does.”
“If he gets it—”
“Down pat, you mean—”
“That’s what I mean—”
“I can’t wait to try it! Ponce.”
Tiger said.
Ponce was nodding, grinning, still studying the diagram. ...
17
Surcher returned to the school after leaving the Fair-bunns. He had that packet of letters and he would browse through them later on today, possibly this evening, at home, at his leisure. Right now he wanted to see how his other assistants were getting along with the mass screening of all the students, and also he wanted to talk to some of Jill’s closest girl friends, whose names had been given him by her mother. He had displaced Proffer from his inner sanctum and arranged through him to see and talk to the following—today, if at all possible: Yvonne Mellish (a Senior), Sandra Seymour (also a Senior), and Alice Patmore (again, a Senior). Tomorrow, he would talk to a few more. And by then—who knows? He would have read through the letters. . . .
At the moment, the Captain had before him Yvonne Mellish, a fine figure of young womanhood if ever there was one. She had brown hair and brown eyes. She was healthy and positive. A beautiful smile. Of course, today, under the circumstances, she wasn’t oversmiling. In fact, just now, she was solemn. She listened to the Captain’s questions and tried her best to answer them. She spoke earnestly, though not without a certain charm. She had a frank, open face, and this indefinable young charm about her. Surcher liked her. It was an honest charm, no doubt of it. And he was beginning to construct a picture of Jill Fairbunn, as she had been, in his mind, no less.
“When did you actually last see Jill, Yvonne?” He asked now, in his quiet way, notebook at the ready.
“Well, let’s see,” the girl answered. “Just let me see—” The Assistant Head Cheerleader, no doubt in line for promotion now, responded, “Well—it was just about the time of Assembly—yes—just about then—Captain—” She halted.
Surcher nodded.
“That was when—Captain—” Again, she halted.
“Was she actually in Assembly? This is important, Yvonne—”
The girl shook her head, “No, definitely. That is the absolute truth. Captain. It’s a fact. I swear it.” She paused, lowering her voice. “And that’s when it happened—isn’t it—Captain?” She added.
Surcher nodded.
“We think so.”
Yvonne flew on, “That’s what I heard—what everyone’s
saying—”
The Captain nodded.
“Poor Jill—” the prospective Captain of the Cheerleaders choked, "Oh that poor kid—” She gasped and choked.
Surcher waited.
“So you never actually saw her in Assembly,” he said, finally.
“That’s right. Captain—None of us did—”
“Did that seem odd to you?”
“No, it didn’t,” Yvonne sobbed, “If we’d only known! If only we’d known!” She sobbed, profusely, yet quietly, "See, sometimes you might have something special or important to do, and so you skip Assembly. It doesn’t happen too often, because Mr. Proffer doesn’t like anybody missing Assembly—No, it didn’t seem odd, not at all—Oh Gosh! I wish it had. Captain!” The tears cascaded.
The Captain watched her, patiently, and compassionately.
“How did she seem to you when you last saw her, Yvonne?” He asked finally, quietly.
on, quietly, “111 try my best, my very best, Captain—” she paused, and Surcher nodded, “Well, there’s Dean Morgan —Phil Potter—” she began.
“Hold it—go a little slower if you would, Yvonne—”
She gave a little laugh, “Oh, you want to write them all down—’’
The Captain nodded.
“Go on—” he said.
“And, oh—Dink—Dink Reagan, Captain—he’s our quarterback, and also a terrific basketball star—oh, you probably know all that, don’t you, Captain?” She paused, as Surcher wrote down the name, giving a little nod at the same time. “And then—Art Lever—and Buzz—Buzzy Bozink—he’s so cute—and Lennie Almot—I think—”
“A-l-m-o?” The Captain spelled out.
“That’s right. Cute name, isn’t it?”
“Go on.” Said Surcher.
“And Petie Smith—” She halted, profoundly concentrating, “And that’s all, right now, well, really that’s all I can think of, I mean. There may be one or two more, you know, who took her out sometimes, but I just can’t think of them—I know for certain the ones I just gave you took her out quite a lot—dances, movies—things like that— well, we used to double date a lot, as a matter of fact, Captain—” she said.
He nodded.
He waited.
“You can’t think of any more?” He asked her. “Take your time, there’s no hurry about it,” he said.
She shook her head, “I really can’t. Not one more.”
Surcher perused the list of names.
“Did any of these boys, as far as you know, Yvonne, want to go steady with Jill? Think about it.”
She did just that.
And she said, “I don’t know. As for that, I just don’t know. Not that I was told about, or that I heard about, anyway,” She paused. “Though I guess just about any boy would have wanted to go steady with her. Really.” She added.
The Captain nodded, slightly.
“Do you go steady?” he asked now.
Yvonne seemed ruffled, slightly, she even seemed to blush, so very lightly. “No, I don’t, Captain” she said.
“She seemed fine, perfectly fine, same as ever!” Yvonne answered, through a fresh burst of tears.