Chapter 2
Ivan
Given another circumstance, I would have been glad to come home to the place where I’d lived almost all my life.
It had been a month now since I’d been sent home to recover from my knee injury. I was very reluctant at first, but then I thought it would hurt even more to be in the city without being able to participate in the big league.
After the reconstruction of my torn ligament during a sensitive surgery in the city, my doctor had not just prescribed meds but also fresh air, familiar faces, and a good dose of nature. And when my mom had found out, she had actually sounded more delighted rather than sad and concerned.
Can’t blame her, I thought. She’d hardly seen me since I’d gotten accepted onto the professional football team of Windfield City. It was a four-hour drive away and just two hours by train, but the fast-paced lifestyle had quickly swallowed me up. I probably could have made more time to visit Burchnell more often, especially when my younger brother Owen was also home.
As I wistfully watched the ongoing football game from the sidelines at my old high school, I couldn’t help recalling my winning moment around ten years ago. I had been a senior just wanting to impress my girlfriend then. But what I hadn’t realized was the impact I’d made on a college sports scout who’d happened to be in town visiting a relative.
After my football buddy Alex was enlisted in the professional league, I hadn’t stopped dreaming about following in his footsteps. Upon his graduation two years earlier than me, he’d gone on to become a big-time football star from college to the professional scene. Nobody else had come close since then, until I was given my own big break.
College football had been a blast for me. Everything had gone according to plan, and I’d soon found myself playing for the Windfield Warriors alongside Alex.
The boy sitting beside me yelled, cutting through my reverie. A scrimmage on the field grabbed my attention. The center of the Burchnell Bears just threw the ball to the quarterback, who was now running at full speed, heading for a touchdown.
I stood up abruptly in anticipation. Searing pain from my right knee unfurled in a rush, the sting shooting up my thigh as well. My face scrunched up in agony as I sat back down on the bleachers while the crowd cheered all around me.
Immense frustration swelled inside me. I missed that feeling of adrenaline rushing in my blood during an exciting moment in a game. I missed the roar of the crowd as our team scored again. I missed everything about football. It had been my life, and now I seemed so lost without it.
The game was over. Burchnell Bears had won. I smiled despite all the negative emotions surging through my mind. After all, this was the same team, the same game that had made my high school life so memorable.
The throng of people getting off the stands was mostly teenagers, but dotted with some alumni too. There were a couple of familiar faces, but nobody I knew very well.
I lit a cigarette and took a long puff to help me relax. I had developed the bad habit at home, since I was so bored and tense all the time.
I took another puff. What the fuck, right? I wasn’t an athlete anymore, anyway. For now.
Before I left the field, though, I was swarmed by a group of football enthusiasts who recognized me. I immediately threw the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it. I grinned and relished the sudden attention even if I had to explain about my injury, which was the reason I wasn’t playing during the season. Some of them had even seen the incident on TV.
“When are you going to play again?” one of them asked.
“Next season, definitely,” I answered with confidence. Deep inside, I wasn’t really sure. I had seen it happen to many league players--- ACL knee injuries causing them to give up their flourishing careers in the sport. But the doctor had told me that I had about 80% chance of recovering and being able to play again. I was certainly banking on that.
They had their pictures taken with me then. A few asked me for an autograph. For a brief moment, I was a football star again. I held on to that sensation as I slowly walked (and limped a bit) to my car. At least I had been cleared already to drive short distances as long as I wasn’t on painkillers.
The past month had seemed to drag on forever. I couldn’t even help Mom with the house chores or tend to the farm. She’d actually refused my assistance several times, saying that I needed to focus on full recovery. She had a point there, but I hated feeling helpless. What’s more, even though she wouldn’t admit it, I was well aware that the family’s was suffering financially because of all the debt that Dad had left behind. I had been pitching in, but city living had also taken its toll on my income. My injury was thankfully covered by insurance.
My phone rang. It was one of my pals from the city. I ignored it and revved the engine. I didn’t drive straight home, though. It was only around five in the afternoon, but I was itching for a drink.
I hadn’t been answering calls from friends for a whole month now. I just wasn’t ready to hear their tone of concern and words of pity.
The small town bar was still closed, but I knocked on the door anyway. I knew Old Craig was in there already, setting up. “Hey, Craig!” I called. “Open up.”
“What you want?!” he yelled from inside.
“It’s Ivan,” I yelled back. “Ivan Willard.”
The wooden door creaked open. A bearded guy in his fifties peeked through the gap, his eyes widening at the sight of me. “Holy fuck, Ivan Willard!” he exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face. He opened the door wide and let me in.
“You don’t look much older than you were in high school when you boys used to sneak in here on weeknights,” he said, chuckling.
The pub’s walls and ceiling had been repainted, but it was apparent that the place was already rundown. Nevertheless, it gave me a sense of comfort. It reminded me of good memories.
I went straight to the bar and asked for a beer. “How’ve you been, Craig?” I asked, making conversation.
“Same old, as you can see,” he answered with a shrug. “This bar’s still packed most nights, which is good.”
“Great, great,” I said, swinging around on the stool like a kid.
“So why’s a big football star like yourself back in town?” he asked with great curiosity as he handed me a beer and a glass filled with ice. “And why are you drinking so early in the day?”
“Just missing the small town life,” I replied nonchalantly, not wanting to go into further detail. “Visiting Mom too. You know how she’s been since last year…”
My phone began to ring again. It was Andrea, one of the women I dated back in the city. She’d been sending messages, asking how I was. I didn’t want to talk, though. She was just one of those flings, anyway.
“Yeah, sorry about your dad,” Craig said, grabbing a beer for himself too. “He was a great guy. We were good friends, but nobody saw it coming until it was too late.”
I nodded quietly, remembering with sadness and guilt how I hadn’t been around much during those months that my dad had been fighting his illness. I’d been sending money, but now I knew I should’ve been there more.
The phone rang again. I was going to press the reject button when I saw who it was this time--- Mr. Young, the rich man I’d met in one of our team parties. He was the owner of a huge software enterprise operating in the entire state. I remembered him taking interest in me when he’d found out I was from Burchnell.
I held a hand up and gestured to Craig that I was going to take the call. “Hello?”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Willard,” a booming voice said from the other line. His tone was serious and commanding.
I straightened up, wondering what he wanted. “Good afternoon, sir. Mr. Young, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. Glad you remembered.” He paused for a while as I waited for him to continue. “Let me get straight to the point because my time is very precious. I heard about your unfortunate accident, and that you’re now back in your hometown.”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“I have a proposal for you,” Mr. Young began. “Are you interested in earning some extra cash while you’re recovering?”
My eyes almost popped out of their sockets. It was an answered prayer. I was all ears.