“Hey!” I barked. The guy turned and looked at me and then slunk away.
I never understood the desire to pick on someone smaller just for the fun of it. Unless, of course, it was my little brother. That was just something that was expected.
That thought brought me up short. Was it really expected? Greg had given me shit. Hell, I remembered my first day of high school. He said something along the lines of ‘don’t embarrass me’ as his only warning about how I was to act around him at school.
I vowed to treat Phil better. When I looked back, that wasn’t who I wanted to be for him. I admitted, though, that taking him to get checked for an STI had been worth it. Hopefully, he would learn to wear a condom next time. His friends were right; he didn’t need to follow the Dawson tradition of getting someone pregnant while in high school. Maybe Phil would be the first to wait until he was married.
Coach Rector had us all go to the gym to drop off our books. When he received them, he gave us our grades and checked us off his list.
I looked at mine, and I’d gotten straight ‘A’s again. I silently thanked my uncle for giving me my life goals, which made it possible for me to get ‘A’s all through high school. The goal to be financially secure had come with a need for a good education. There were many times when I would rather have done almost anything other than work on my studies. But then I would remember what the pot was at the end of the rainbow. Over time, it had just become a habit, which made it infinitely easier.
That left us the rest of the hour to goof around.
◊◊◊
As I walked into the field house, I saw the enormous paper banner proclaiming us state champions. The bleachers were pulled out on one side, and the student body had begun to fill them up. There was a stage with seats for the baseball players and coaches. I spotted Tim and Wolf, kicked back in their chairs, relaxing. Somehow, they’d beaten me here.
“Boys,” I said.
“It’s official. We’re high school graduates,” Tim said as he stood up and gave me a one-armed hug.
“You still have to get your diploma tomorrow,” I reminded him.
“Details, details,” he said as he waved his hand in the air. “We should all go out to lunch after this.”
“I can’t. I have to deal with my businesses this afternoon. They’re making me sit down with everyone because I’ll be leaving after this weekend.”
“After you’re done, text me. We were talking about going to the lake and having a few brewskis,” Wolf shared.
That sounded a hundred times better than going over financials or whatever Scarlet and my dad had planned. It would motivate me to wrap up my business meeting sooner.
“I’ll text you when I’m done.”
While we talked, the place filled up. Moose and Coach Haskins came on stage with Mrs. Sullivan, the president of our booster club, and Moose stepped over to us.
“Care if we get started?” Moose asked.
“If you think that’s best,” I said as I took my seat next to my friends.
Moose stepped up to the microphone.
“Welcome, everybody. While you were pouring in, I was thinking you all would probably prefer starting your summer vacation to coming to an assembly. So I’ll keep this short,” Moose said.
That garnered some good-natured applause. He put his hands up to quiet everyone down so he could continue.
“Before I introduce you to our state champions …” Moose started but had to stop because everyone stood and cheered.
He turned to us and told us to stand up, which only made them get louder. I looked at my teammates and saw them soaking it in. This would be one of those moments they would tell their grandkids about someday.
I just let the applause wash over me as I reflected on what it had taken to get to this day. When I first went out for baseball, Moose had announced that freshmen couldn’t play varsity ball. I’d almost quit because I thought I was good enough to start and how unfair his arbitrary rule was. But I discovered that Moose had done us a favor. Our time on junior varsity allowed us to play the game for the fun of it instead of jumping into the competitive side of baseball.
Freshman-year baseball was where I’d acquired some of my fondest memories. It was also where we’d matured before we moved up to varsity for sophomore year. As a group, the seniors on stage with me had been the nucleus for a lot of success at Lincoln High. Three state football championships, and now our first-ever state baseball championship.
They should enjoy their moment in the sun.
We took our seats so Moose could continue.
“From the time I first became the head baseball coach, it has always been my goal to win state. I won’t say how many years ago that was, but I’d begun to worry I might never win one. When I saw this group come out for freshman ball, I began to hope again. Each year, I saw improvement, and each year, we got closer.
“Before the season started, I talked to our captain, David Dawson, and we talked about our goals for this season. He simply stated that we would win state. I still had some doubts in the back of my mind, but the way he said it, I started to believe.
“Then we began to win games as we came together as a team. By the time we started the regional playoffs, I thought we had a chance. Winning all those games back-to-back required taking down many top-notch teams. It took a Herculean effort, but this group never backed down or gave up. Whenever it looked like we were in trouble, they fought back. They embodied our mascot, the bulldog.
“Without further ado, let me introduce you to our newly minted state champions …” Moose said. Then he brought each of us up to tell something about each guy and how he contributed this year.
I was glad he kept it short. When he was done, Mrs. Sullivan stepped up to the microphone.
“I received a phone call from someone who will remain nameless. He told me a secret. He said Coach Haskins and Moose have decided to retire.”
The younger guys couldn’t decide if they should be upset or happy for our coaches. Their leaving would affect the underclassmen the most.
“We couldn’t let you two take off without recognizing what you’ve meant to the Lincoln High community.”
Both Moose and Coach Haskins joined her up front, and she handed them each a small box. They opened them and found they’d been given watches.
“There’s an inscription on the back,” Mrs. Sullivan said.
Moose read his inscription to the crowd.
“It says around the top, ‘Bulldogs.’ In the center, it has my name, and at the bottom, it says, ‘State Champion.’”
Then Coach Haskins looked at Moose.
“I wonder who told on us?”
They both looked at me, and I just shrugged. I wasn’t going to let them leave without getting some recognition for what they’d done for us. Moose had been a fixture here for nearly three decades. I’m not sure I could have put up with a bunch of high school baseball players for that many years. He deserved to go out on top.
As we got ready to leave, Destiny jumped on stage.
“I wanted to let everyone know that I’m having a pre-graduation party at my house tonight.”
Tim and Wolf looked at me and rolled their eyes. I knew I didn’t plan on going.
They’d set up tables at the entrance with our graduation gowns. I collected mine, emptied out both my lockers, and walked out a high school graduate.
◊◊◊
When I entered the office, I saw they had a deli platter with mini-sub sandwiches along with bags of chips and a tray of cookies.
Megan looked up from her desk.
“Mr. Dawson,” she said formally.
“Ma’am.”
“You’re the first to arrive. Please grab some food and head on back to the conference room. There are drinks in the fridge.”
I smiled at her, and she blushed. There was the Mouse I was used to. I knew she was trying to be in business mode, so I held my tongue and did as she suggested.