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* * *

“Wasn’t the spring dance scheduled for this Saturday?” Barbara asked as her dejected daughter got in the Expedition.

“It’s not fair,” Allison complained. “I already had a date and everything…”

“Your batting really was bad,” Barb answered, tartly. “Were you thinking more about the dance than the game?”

“I don’t know,” Allison whined. “I just had a hard time concentrating. Mom, I don’t want to play anymore. I don’t like Coach Sherman. He’s not like Coach Foss.”

“Maybe that’s good,” Barbara said, finally getting out of the traffic of the parking lot and onto the one-lane access road. Despite the double line she passed a turtle-slow minivan ahead of her, whipping in and out of the lanes with the Expedition rocking on its springs. “Coach Foss was a very nice man, but he didn’t have the sort of winning record of Coach Sherman. We’re lucky he moved up here.”

“Have you ever talked to Coach Sherman?” Allison asked.

“Not directly,” Barb admitted. “Why?”

“He’s… weird,” Allison said, pouting. “He makes me feel creepy.”

Barbara paused for a moment at that. Sexual predators came in all sorts of guises, but positions of relative power and influence, like coaches, were one that all parents had to keep an eye on. The flip side was that Allison was more than capable of using her mother’s rather strong protective streak to get out of something she wasn’t enjoying anymore. And since she’d steadfastly refused to take martial arts this year, she only had cheerleading and gym besides softball to keep her in shape.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Barb said. “And I’ll admit that it makes the practice this Saturday questionable. But you’re going anyway. Since there are questions, you know the drill.”

“Don’t be alone with the adult,” Allison said, sighing. “If they ask for a private meeting, insist that another girl or adult female be there. File any questionable action or statement and report it afterwards.”

“And everything should be fine,” Barbara said, trying not to keep the worry out of her tone. Lately she’d gotten a crash course in how unfine things could be.

* * *

Barb, as usual, picked up her daughter from the late practice. Allison seemed to have enjoyed it since she was smiling as she walked to the SUV.

The practice field was on the edge of Hernando State Forest on some land that the county had purchased from the state government to make a local park. Most of the county park was woodland with trails cut through it and a small lake. It was an out-of-the-way park, built in anticipation of continued growth and thus the practice field was almost always available.

“How was practice?” Barbara asked as the fourteen-year-old got in the van.

“Interesting,” Allison said, distantly. “Mostly it was about mental conditioning and focus. We hardly swung a bat.”

“Oh,” Barb said, frowning. Mental conditioning was all well and good, but it could have been done anywhere; it didn’t have to be in this out-of-the-way place.

“I was wrong about Coach Sherman, Mom,” Allison said as if reading her mom’s mind. “He’s pretty interesting. He’s got a different way of looking at things. I understand, now, why his teams won so much.”

“Okay,” Barbara replied, still frowning. Allison had been extremely changeable since she hit puberty, but rarely this fast. Barb had nearly had to pull her out of the house kicking and screaming. Two hours had made a pretty big change.

* * *

“Mark?” Barbara said as they were preparing for bed. Mark had spent most of the evening on the couch watching ESPN and she had the unChristian thought that her husband could do with a bit of dieting and exercise rather than munching chips in front of the games.

“Uh?” Mark replied, sitting down on the bed and pulling his shirt off to drop on the floor.

“What did you say about Coach Sherman?” Barb asked, rubbing lip gloss on to keep her lips from chapping overnight. She also hoped Mark would take the hint for a change. Lately the “magic,” a nice euphemism for sex, had started to fade from the marriage. She wasn’t sure if it was something she was doing or if Mark was just falling off with age. But it was simple fact that they’d slowed down from just about every night to no more than once a week.

“Allison’s coach?” Mark asked, tossing the rest of his clothes, excepting underwear, on the pile. “Bob Ruckert said he’d been the big thing down around Mobile. His teams got the county championship three or four years running and even took state one time.”

“So why’d he move?” Barbara asked, lying back on the pillow and arranging her hair fetchingly.

“I dunno,” Mark said, crawling in bed and settling in. “Got a new job? They don’t work for their coaching pay, you know.”

“I guess that’s it,” Barb said, rolling over to look at her husband and leaning up on one elbow so her breasts created a very nice view of cleavage under her low-cut nightgown. “Mark?”

“Hmm?”

“Does this make you think of anything?” Barbara asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mark rolled over and looked at her for a moment and clearly reconsidered his plans for the rest of the night. On the other hand, Barb could see the struggle on his face.

“I guess not,” Barbara said, lying back and crossing her hands on her stomach.

“Honey, you look great…” Mark said, rolling back over. “But I’m really tired.”

“I understand,” Barb said, calmly. “Good night, dear.”

“Good night.”

* * *

“Another Saturday night practice?” Barbara asked, incredulously.

“Coach Sherman says that there’s no such thing as too much preparation,” Allison said as she climbed in the SUV. The team had gotten another win, with Barb had to admit much better batting this time. “And it’s not really a practice. Coach calls it a team-building exercise. We’re supposed to wear walking stuff; we’re going to go on a hike in the woods.”

“At night?” Barbara asked, curiously.

“That’s part of the team building,” Allison said. “He said that you have to know the dark in yourself to bring out the light. So we’re going on a night hike to get accustomed to looking at the dark.”

“O-kay,” Barb said, shaking her head. “I guess if it helps you win…”

* * *

Allison was not nearly as chipper when Barbara picked her up at the darkened field the next Saturday. In fact, she looked as if she had been crying.

“Are you okay?” Barb asked, worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Allison said, getting in the front seat and keeping her head down.

“Team building was kind of tough?” Barbara asked, pulling out of the parking lot. The night was dark and overcast but the half moon was struggling to shine through the clouds.

“Yeah,” Allison said, keeping her head down.

“So what did you do?” Barb asked.

“Nothing I want to talk about,” Allison said, turning to look out the window.

“Allison, I want a straight answer,” Barbara said, sharply. “Did anything wrong happen?”

“No, Mom!” Allison answered, looking up at her. “It was just what the coach was talking about. We just… went for a walk and… talked.”