Barrett

 

I’m in the middle of not doing my English homework, just staring at the curser on my screen when Codi pops his head in.

“Go football game you?”

“Not go when me?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow. I’ve never once missed this kid’s games, why would I start now?

“Brian drive me can’t. Okay, early drive me you?” I look down at the computer and smile.

“Sure. English not want anyway. Leave early eat carbs you?” I ask, knowing my brother would never turn down the chance to carb load before a game. His wide smile proves me right and he doesn’t need to answer as he runs to grab his gear. I grab the leftover cash from my last race and meet him at the door.

“Ready me,” he manages to sign one handed with his other arm holding his mound of gear. I look toward my dad’s room where the door is closed.

“Ask Dad?” Codi’s smile instantly fades from his face and I want to kick myself for ruining his good mood. My dad has never once gone to Codi’s games. Even though Randy and I have never missed one, Codi still feels my father’s absence something deep. Codi is much more sensitive than I am, it’s one of his best qualities, but everything cuts so much deeper to him. I wish I could shelter him from the train wreck of a father that we were stuck with, but I can’t.

“No. Drink all morning. Passed out him.” I drop it and Codi turns and walks out of the trailer. He loads his stuff into my trunk and then jumps in the passenger seat. We are silent on the way to the restaurant. Codi pops in a CD with a lot of base and turns it up so I can feel it where I rest my left leg against the door speaker while we ride in compatible silence. By the time we reach the restaurant, the promise of carbs is too much to keep my brother down for long. He smiles wide and signs pasta time.

We make our way to the table and don’t even need to look at the menu, since we always get the same things. Codi orders spaghetti and meatballs for himself and chicken fettuccine for me.

“P R E S L E Y? What doing you?”

“Nothing.” My brother gives me a look that I can’t really read and it bothers me.

“What?”

“Different her.” I agree completely. She is different but I want to see what he thinks about her.

“Different how?” Codi sits and thinks for a moment. I used to think this was his way of translating in his head before he signed but I’ve learned that for as outgoing and funny as my brother is, he is a very deep and careful thinker. I’ve never known him to say anything out of anger. He always thinks everything through. The fact that he is doing so now when it relates to this girl makes me nervous.

“Groupie not. Drool, flirt not. Try impress not. Comfortable in herself. Refreshing think me.”

“Maybe date her you,” I joke back and Codi laughs.

“Would me. But not for me. For you.”

“Last not. Boyfriend me not.”

“Why not? Boyfriend can be you. You not Dad. Wonderful brother you. Wonderful nephew. Wonderful friend. If boyfriend bad? Change that you. Become guy worthy P R E S L E Y.”

“You only like for me why? Because P R E S L E Y impressed not me.” My brother throws his head back and laughs at my statement. I ignore the irony in it myself because the fact that I don’t seem to impress her is something I find very attractive.

“Maybe right you.” Then his smile fades into something a bit sadder. “Remind me Mom.”

“P R E S L E Y?” I ask in shock, and he nods. “Look alike not.”

“No, look alike not. Soul same. Decision yours. Opinion mine only.”

We switch topics to other things. His game, my racing, working at the shop. Anything other than Presley, but I can’t get his words out of my head. Is she like my mother? Looks-wise they are completely opposite. My mother had darker skin, dark eyes, and light honey brown hair that shimmered almost gold in the sun. She was stunning in all the pictures I have of her and even more so in my memories. But Presley is light-skinned, light-eyed, and dark-haired. Although, now that I think about it, there is something similar in the way they take in the world. My mother was quiet, a bit shy, but noticed everything. Presley seems to be made the same. Maybe there could be something there, but I don’t even know if she’s interested. She’s not like the other girls, which makes it harder to read her. Which of course is what makes her attractive.

“Hello? Barrett!”

“Sorry. Thinking me. Ready go you?”

“Yes. One second.” My brother pulls a small bottle of Motrin out of his pocket and takes two tablets with his water, then stands up to go.”

“Wrong?” I ask, worried. My brother doesn’t take meds very often and never before a game.

“Nothing bad, fine me. Hit head hard practice me.” This instantly has me worried. Football can be a dangerous sport. This isn’t the first time he’s been hit hard; the kid is a quarterback, it comes with the job; but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry.

“Tell Coach you?”

“Yes, Mom. Coach know,” he says, teasing me. “Seriously, B, fine me. Headache small. Game us.” He turns and heads out of the restaurant. He seems fine. Talking and thinking normally. His appetite wasn’t affected, so I’m not sure why I’m worrying.

I pull up to the high school lot and park. I help Codi with his gear and walk him to the locker room door.

“Thanks dinner, B. I love you.” I smile wild and throw back the I love you sign. Codi disappears into the locker room and I head to the stands and wait for my uncle to join me.

 

 

 

It doesn’t take long for Randy to show up with a hotdog in each hand. He holds one out to me and I put my hands up.

“No, thank you. Go dinner Codi. Carb load before big game.”

“Good. More for me.” He smiles wide, and after inhaling the first hot dog in three bites, he looks over at me. “You are a good brother, Barrett. You are more of a Dad to that boy than your own, and you do right by him. Your mom would be very proud of you.”

I’m not normally a very emotional person, but those words hit me hard and almost bring me to tears. Failing Codi is one of my biggest fears in life, and to hear that I’m doing it right brings such a crippling relief that I can’t even respond. With Randy, I don’t need to say anything, he just slaps me on the back and then eats his last hot dog as the opposing team comes out and starts to warm up.

“Those are some big boys on that team. The J.V. looks like our varsity.” I look to the field and see he isn’t wrong. They are just as tall as they are sturdy. A pain of worry hits me right in the gut and must play out all over my face.

“Don’t worry, B. Codi is fast, he’ll be around those guys before they even realize he’s gone.” He says this lightly, but I can see the worried look on his face, too. I feel like I’m betraying my brother a bit, but sometimes it’s hard to be both brother and father, and it’s nice having someone to take my burdens to.

“Codi hurt practice.”

“What happened…is he okay?”

“Codi say fine but took Motrin before game. Hurt head.”

“Hmm, does Coach know?”

“Yes. Coach know. Codi say fine. But never take meds him.” My uncle thinks this over for a minute.

“These are big guys, maybe he knew he’d have to bring his A game. If the coach thinks he can play and Codi thinks he can, then we need to trust them. It might not hurt to get him checked out by a doctor after though.”

I nod but don’t say anything else. Randy, as usual, can read my mind, and lays a hand on my leg. “I pay the hospital B I L L, Barrett. Don’t worry about it. Look the game is starting.”

Sure enough, the cheerleaders are lined up on either side of the field and cheer the guys on as they make their way onto the field. I give Codi a good once over and he looks perfectly fine. He sends a wink over to the girls, which earns him several giggles and a few blown kisses. I shake my head and my uncle laughs. He looks over and tosses us a head nod, then it’s all business as the players huddle up.

The entire game is neck and neck. These boys might be big, but ours are holding their own. Codi is on fire tonight and his aim is always true. He throws the ball right to Brian, who runs it down the field for a touchdown. Randy and I are on our feet cheering for him. He’s taken a few good hits tonight and I’m worried about him, but he bounces right back. By the third quarter though, I don’t know who I’m ready to pound more, these punks for all their cheap shots, or the blind refs who do nothing about them.

“Sit down and stop pacing. You’re making me nervous.”

“Another hit after C released ball? Not acceptable, Randy.”

“I know. They just called an unnecessary roughness on 43.”

“Finally! Fourth time 43 hit Codi after ball in play.”

“I know, buddy. It’s okay, Codi is holding his own out there. Look Coach just called a time out.” The guys huddle up and Codi removes his helmet. The coach is talking to him and Codi shakes his head a few times.”

“Don’t like how other team play.”

“I know. Me either, but at least he’s making sure Codi is good. He won’t send him back in if he wasn’t. Look.” I turn back to the field where Codi is now placing his helmet back on and gives his Coach a high five, then runs back on the field.

Five seconds. That’s how long it takes to change my entire life. Five seconds and a small plastic clasp. I notice five seconds after the snap of the ball. Five seconds too late. Codi forgot to snap his chin strap before going back on the field. I see it dangling there and I catapult myself over the rail, but before my feet hit the ground it’s already too late. In a blink of an eye the ball is thrown, Brian already has the ball, and I am about to let out the breath I was holding when all breath is knocked out of me entirely when another illegal hit is made. The lineman slams into Codi and all I can see is the helmet fly in the air. My feet hit the ground and I am already running before anyone even knows what is happening. Why don’t they know? Why don’t they feel like their heart has stopped along with mine? I push my way past the cheerleaders and jump over the bench. I’m on the field before his coach even knows what happened.

It’s too late. I’m too late. Codi is laying ten feet away from his helmet with his body sprawled out on the ground. Broken. My invincible baby brother looks broken and there’s nothing I can do but sob. I’m afraid to touch him, but I can’t help but need the physical contact.

“Codi. Codi! Open your eyes! Please, Codi.” The words are ripped from my throat harsh and broken, and for once I don’t care what I sound like. I hope it hurts those around me as much as I hurt. The coach is trying to pull me off of him now but I refuse, holding onto his hand as though I’ll never touch him again. My uncle is behind me now, physically removing me so the EMTs can get to my brother. I try to push them off but I can’t move. I can’t figure out why I’m not moving until I finally realize that four of the guys, the Coach, and my uncle are holding me back. Three of them are bleeding. That’s when I notice the knuckles on my right hand are swollen and throbbing.

“Please.” I choke out, looking into the watery eyes of my uncle.

“Please.” He pulls me into him and holds me tight. I wait for Codi to open his eyes. To stagger to his feet and have the crowd roar. I would tease him saying he did it all for attention. Yet he doesn’t move. His eyes remain shut and he is now being strapped onto a gurney. I try to get in the ambulance with him but my uncle stops me.

“Let me go, B.”

“No, I’m going with him. I need to be with him, Randy. He will need me,” I scream out.

“I know, B. They’re going to have questions and they need someone who can answer them.” He means they need someone who can hear and he says this looking pained, knowing the blow he just dealt me. But he’s right. In this moment, I can’t be what my brother needs. I can’t hear. I can’t be his voice because that’s his job. He’s always been my voice and now I am failing him when he needs me the most. I nod and step back so Randy can jump in the ambulance. I stand there staring long after it’s left the field. I feel numb and useless and it’s actually frozen me to the spot.

I feel someone tugging my arm but I don’t bother to look. Then he snaps in my face and I see it’s Brian pulling me. He doesn’t sign, but he points to himself and his mom, who is standing nearby, then at her car. They are going to give me a ride to the hospital, I assume. For once I don’t want to drive, so I nod and follow. I don’t even remember getting in the car, but Brian takes out his phone and then passes it to me.

Is there someone I can call to interpret for you?

I hadn’t even thought of that. The hospital has interpreters on staff or would call an agency, but those things take time, and I can’t risk it. I take his phone and type back.

Can you call interpreter explain? See he can meet us hospital?

I take my phone out of my pocket and bring up Jermain’s number and hand the phone to Brian. He talks to him very quickly, looks over at me, and says something else. It’s dark in the car. I hate the dark. He hands my phone back, then types on his again, handing it back over.

Jermain is on his way. He said not to sign any papers until he gets there.

I read and re-read his text over and over again. Sign anything? What would I need to sign that Jermain would need to explain? My stomach drops even further than I thought possible and I feel the tears spill over, so I nod once and turn to look out the window.