| Time for a Story |
This story first appeared in our writing group’s third anthology, A Little Off the Page
Bennett and Kingsleigh
..sometimes the younger you are, the more you know about love.
Installment 9
“I’m here for Kingsleigh. Doug said you wanted me to give her a ride. Tell her to hurry up, we’ll be late.”
What a weird thing to say, thought Michelle as she walked to the stairs to call Kingsleigh, but maybe that was how Doug had put it. She was exhausted by him and his behavior. If Bennett weren’t such a nice kid, Michelle would be looking forward to some distance from her neighbors.
“Kingsleigh, you—your ride’s here. Mrs. Kussler wants you to please hurry so you can get there on time.”
Kingsleigh came down. “I did my homework this afternoon, Mom, I’m all done. Where’s the cookies?”
DeeDee drew breath, but Michelle spoke first. “I think we’ll leave that to someone else, Kingsleigh. Some of the players might want to share their favorite cookies. We’ll do something another time.”
“Okay. Hi, Mrs. Kussler. Thank you for the ride.”
“Sure. Let’s go. Michelle, you’re picking her after practice?”
“I—we never talked about it. I can. What time will they be done?”
“Tonight will probably run a little late, since the kids have a half–day tomorrow. Maybe eight o’clock.”
“Eight?! What about dinner?”
“Doug’s ordering pizza. I’ll make sure she gets some. Come on, Kingsleigh.”
Michelle shut the door behind them. Why did Doug choose pizza for dinner when he didn’t want cookies for snacks?
At the field, DeeDee told Kingsleigh to come down to the bleachers with her. “Sit where you want, just stay by the bleachers and don’t bother the players.”
Kingsleigh nodded and plunked down on the bottom bench, away from DeeDee and the other moms. She didn’t want to listen to mom-chatter today. She wanted to watch Bennett.
She couldn’t see all that well from there, but she could see him. That was all she needed. They hadn’t talked much since yesterday, but during leisure reading time, Bennett passed her a note. She’d left it at home, safely tucked in her favorite book stored under her pillow. She memorized what it said, and the message kept floating through her mind the way the smell of Mom’s cookies baking flowed from the kitchen to the living room to her bedroom.
Like everything Bennett did, it was direct.
“I like football okay, but I miss doing stuff with you. You make everything fun. Do you think I could come with you next time you go to Grampa Joe’s workshop? I could be your helper and stuff. Until I learn more than you do.” He’d drawn a smiley face with its tongue sticking out. “Ha Ha.”
After all the ups and downs and Mr. Kussler being so mad, Bennett’s words were like a warm blanket when you came in from playing in the snow. It was pretty much as she thought. She no longer felt like her world was whirling away from her. Things were just . . . different.
Another mom climbed onto the bleachers behind Kingsleigh, dragging a baby carrier with her. An older boy lifted a cooler onto the spot next to her at the woman’s direction. He gave Kingsleigh a sullen look then lunged off. Two other little girls—younger than Kingsleigh and carrying dolls—set up play on the bleacher right behind her.
Kingsleigh didn’t speak to them, but she sighed and checked for Mrs. Kussler’s whereabouts. When she caught DeeDee’s eye, she waved and pointed to a second set of empty bleachers a little ways away where she could watch in peace. She pointed back to herself, and then to the bleachers again. Mrs. Kussler nodded, and Kingsleigh moved over there. She settled herself, smoothed her short dress over her play shorts, and fixed her eyes on Bennett until Coach called all the boys around him to talk. This part could take a while. She couldn’t really see Bennett, because Marcus had dragged him up close to his dad, and his back was turned.
She peered down at the ground and spotted a couple ant hills with tiny black ants scurrying back and forth. She stretched herself out along the bench so she could comfortably watch them close up. She’d have to tell Bennett they were here. Watching bugs together was one of their favorite things.
Kingsleigh admired ants. They worked so hard, and they did everything together, taking care of each other and making sure the colony grew. Sometimes she and Bennett pretended they were ants. They’d take these big pieces of packing Styrofoam and carry them around to make forts or place them in big piles.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a shout from the coach and team. The boys were on their feet, clustered around the coach to get instructions. Maybe the team is like a bunch of ants, Kingsleigh mused idly, watching them get into groups to work out together.
She sat up and tucked her hands into her elbows. It was kind of boring, but she tried to understand what she was watching. They completed their warm-ups, jumping jacks, and their runs up and down the field. Now Coach was changing their groups, setting them up in pairs for throwing practice. Marcus stood with his buddy Jessup, Kyle Jensen, and Bennett. Marcus looked over towards the bleachers and spotted Kingsleigh. Then he poked Doug’s arm. Doug spoke to him, looking up once, directly at Kingsleigh.
She drew in her breath and held very still. Marcus seemed to argue with him for a minute, then Doug nodded and jotted something down on his clipboard. Marcus motioned to the other three boys and they jogged away from the bigger group, nearer to where Kingsleigh sat. After a short distance, they started tossing a couple footballs around.
Bennett was paired with Marcus, no surprise. He actually looked pretty good. He was always a good runner and was always picked first for teams in PE. Now he was shooting the ball straight into Marcus’s waiting hands. He made all his catches too. Kingsleigh felt proud of him. For being pretty new at it, he was doing all right.
Suddenly, Bennett fumbled one. It bounced in his hand and hit the inside of his elbow, then the ground.
“Oh, man! You gotta close your hand quicker. You can’t let it go like that! The other team’ll scoop it up! Try again!”
Bennett’s face was red, and now he set his jaw.
“Uh-oh,” murmured Kingsleigh. That was always a sign Bennett was going to try harder. And when he tried harder . . . .
“Close up sooner! Let’s go again.”
Kyle and Jessup paused in their throwing to watch, snickering a little when Bennett had to run after the ball he’d dropped, find his spot, and settle his grip to throw. Then he flung it back to Marcus. When Marcus threw it to him again, it arced high over their heads.
It descended at a funny angle and hit the ground again. Bennett picked it up, and as he turned, he caught sight of Kingsleigh. He stood holding it, examining it. And getting mad, Kingsley thought.
He tightened his fingers on the ball, biting his lip. He hated when he couldn’t do something. He’d been throwing fine all week. His dad even said he was proud of him. Now he couldn’t do anything right. He hoped it wasn’t because Kingsleigh was watching.
He grit his teeth, felt the laces of the ball, and gave it another launch. The ball spiraled perfectly into Marcus’s hand. There was nothing at all wrong with his throw. But he wasn’t trying to be a quarterback. He was trying to be a receiver.
Here came the ball. He reached out, this time with his other arm at the ready. The ball slid into his hand and arm, his second arm following of its own accord. Yes!
“Finally! You got it. That’s the way! Now again.”
“Aw, Marcus!”
“Come on, you’ve got to be able to do it every time. Look, send it here. Five more!” He backed up, motioning for Bennett to throw.
Bennett groaned and set himself up to throw again.
When they were finally done, Bennett rubbed his arm, huffing and puffing, but smiling a big satisfied smile. Kyle and Jessup cheered him, too, pushing each other around a little as they all told each other how good they were getting.
Marcus clapped him on the shoulder. “Better and better, Ben. C’mon, let’s go tell your dad.”
“Not yet. I want to go talk to Kingsleigh, see if she saw.”
“Aw, Ben, you don’t want to do that. You’ll ruin a perfectly good practice. Besides, coach wants us over there.”
“I’m gonna go see her.”
“Ben, she’s just a girl. You don’t need to be hanging around with her.”
“Why do you keep saying that? You sound like my dad.”
“Well, yeah, Coach knows what he’s talkin’ about.”
“You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Bennett turned and headed to the bleachers Kingsleigh had claimed.
Marcus stayed behind, rubbing his neck and looking from his coach to his teammate. Kyle and Jessup stood beside him, passing puzzled looks back and forth. Finally, Marcus motioned to them to follow. The three started after Bennett.
“Kingsleigh, did you see that? Did you see me? I can throw it straight to Marcus every time! And my catching is better too!”
Kingsleigh nodded, beaming. “I was watching. I don’t know how football works, but I could see how good you are now. Does that mean you get to start in a game?”
Surprise crossed Bennett’s face, leaving behind a grin. “Hey, you get more than I thought!”
“Look, kid, why don’t you buzz off?” The three boys had caught up. Marcus scowled at the girl who competed for Bennett’s attention.
“Her name’s Kingsleigh, Marcus. Leave her alone!”
Marcus poked Bennett in the arm. “She’s not supposed to be here, Bennett. Coach said. We need to get back on the field.”
“What do you mean, I’m not supposed to be here?” Kingsleigh demanded, standing and crossing her arms.
“What do you mean, ‘Coach said?’” Bennett demanded, talking over Kingsleigh’s words.
“Last night, Ben. Last night. When I was waitin’ at your house for your dad to take me home. He was talking to her mom, tellin’ her not to bring her to practices anymore. Told her they weren’t wanted here.”
“No, he didn’t!” cried Bennett.
“Well, I’m right here!” Kingsleigh cried. “Whatever your coach said, I’m here, so it can’t be true!”
“It’s your last time. Your mom even agreed, that’s why Ben’s mom brought you tonight. Ben doesn’t need you around anymore. He doesn’t play with little girls! He’s a guy, like us!”
“Bennett?” Tears were in Kingsleigh’s eyes and voice.
“Take it back, Marcus! You can’t talk to her like that!” Bennett gave Marcus a shove. Marcus shoved him back.
Kyle tried to step between them. “Cut it out! Marcus is right, Ben. I mean, I don’t care if Kingsleigh is here; she’s cool. But your dad did say he thought she was distracting you at practice. And he told Marcus to help you focus, so . . . .” Kyle shrugged.
Bennett’s jaw worked. He wasn’t calming down. Kingsleigh didn’t want to be the cause of trouble, even if she did think Mr. Kussler was wrong and unfair and stupid because of it. She touched Bennett’s shoulder.
“I can go sit with your mother, or back up on the hill. You don’t have to be distracted.”
Marcus batted her hand away. “Leave him alone! Why don’t you just go play dolls with the other little girls!”
Before Kingsleigh could even answer for herself, Bennett launched himself at Marcus, arms out in a takedown tackle. Kingsleigh jumped up on the bench, out of the fray, scared Bennett would get hurt or in trouble.
Kyle stood aside, looking for an opening to stop the fight, but Jessup was yelling and egging them on, especially Marcus. When the two got to their feet, Jessup grabbed Bennett’s arms and pinned them to his side. Like Marcus, he was bigger and stronger than Bennett. Marcus began to swing at the smaller boy, and the blows landed with thuds.
Kyle froze in shock. Kingsleigh jumped down and threw herself at Marcus’s back, clawing at his shoulders. Kyle ran off down the field. Bennett broke Jessup’s hold on him. Marcus whirled around, his movement dislodging Kingsleigh and throwing her against the bleachers. For a split second, everything stopped. But then it all exploded. Bennett charged, ramming himself into Marcus, the momentum carrying them both over the first bench and into the second one of the bleacher seats.
There was a horrible crack and both boys stopped. Bennett’s arms and back went limp.
“Bennett!” Kingsleigh wailed.
Marcus stepped back, away from Bennett’s body, his arms and fists shaking.
Kyle ran up, Coach Doug behind him, his face white, his hat flying off his head behind him. DeeDee raced down from the other bleacher, pulling up behind the coach. She raced past him as he grabbed Marcus’s arm.
“What did you do? What the hell happened here?” He shook the boy.
Kingsleigh stepped aside to let DeeDee get past her to Bennett. She was his mom, she’d know what to do. Kingsleigh didn’t dare watch, because she might not see Bennett breathing. She shook out her dress and felt a tear in her shorts. Fumbling around her clothes made her arms and back hurt from where she’d hit the ground. There were bleeding scratches, too. She was surprised to find so much wrong, and it made her shaky. All she really wanted to know was: Was Bennett okay?
DeeDee reached out, afraid to touch her boy. He lay so still. But then his arm moved, and he rolled his head aside, groaning. Blood ran from a gashed lip, and his nose seemed like it was at odds with his face. DeeDee touched his back. He was warm, she could feel the action of his lungs as he took air in, but it was ragged, and the color was now draining from his face.
“Doug!” she screamed. “Doug, we have to get him to the hospital! You can ask questions later. Call 911 now!”
As Doug fished in his pocket for his cell, Marcus pulled away and ran off, Jessup following in his wake. Kyle hung back.
“Mrs. Kussler, Mrs.Kussler, is Bennett okay?” Kingsleigh whispered as loud as she dared.
DeeDee barely turned her head, but she scanned Kingsleigh from head to toe. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh. I think so. I tried to stop them, but Marcus threw me off, too.”
“She was trying to stop him when I came to get you,” Kyle put in.
“Mrs. Kussler, he—he cracked his head when they fell.” Kingsleigh began to cry.
DeeDee felt of her son’s body feverishly. She knew not to move him, but she didn’t know what else to do. “Where is that ambulance? Where are they?” she kept saying.
“What were they fighting about? What kind of trouble did you start?” Doug demanded of Kingsleigh, never taking eyes off his son. He turned away abruptly to answer the dispatcher who’d come on the line.
Kyle tugged at Kingsleigh’s arm. “Come on. My mom’ll help. We can take you home.”
“No, I want to see how Bennett is. Besides, she brought me.” She nodded towards DeeDee.
Kyle’s mother had come up behind them. She took Kingsleigh by the shoulders very gently. “Come on, sweetie. Somebody needs to look after you,” she said, glaring a little at DeeDee. “We’ll get you home and fixed up.” She paused and scrutinized Kingsleigh. “I’ll call your mom. She might want to meet us at the hospital. If anybody needs to talk to you about what happened”—another troubled glare, this time at Doug—“we’ll let them know where you are. Come on.” Mrs. Jensen led Kingsleigh away. Kyle trailed along, glancing behind. Bennett’s parents didn’t even notice.