Professional Documents
Culture Documents
J.V. Rosario
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For Mindy with all the love there is!
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Table of Content
Chapter I
My Dream, My Nightmare!
Page 6
Chapter II
Green Hills
Page 50
Chapter III
Would you teach me . . .?
Page 72
Chapter IV
School Is Cool, But Basketball Is Great!
Page 138
Chapter V
Holidays
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Page 152
Chapter VI
Lake Highland Highs and Luther Lows
Page 247
Chapter VII
Spring Break
Page 261
Chapter VIIII
Why?
Page 447
Chapter IX
Death due us apart . . .
Page 499
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Chapter I
1
The whole thing of the horse looked very natural to
me, when I know that I had never ridden one in my entered
life. As I ride, a strong wind was blowing on my face and the
water was splashing my clothes; the sea was rough. A storm
was approaching to shore. And I was pestering a horse on a
long sandy beach that I had never put eyes on before.
To all these, I was after someone who was riding
another animal in front of me, but far in the distance.
However, it was hard to see who this kid was. The wind was
picking up and the waves were getting bigger by the second.
After a brief fight with the win and the waves I blared a
name to the young person, I wanted him to stop. A gut
feeling was telling me that I knew this boy; we were related
in some way. And in a strange way I knew that something
was going to happen to him. Yet, the sea was rougher and
my horse was frightened with the conditions, so I stopped the
animal. To see what was in front of me was almost
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hard liner from the beginning, a man that doesn‟t lie and talk
straight to you all the time. He was in his late fifties or his
early sixties; his physical appearance was heavy and strong.
His facial expressions were hard to tell because the light was
coming from a large window behind him. His voice had a
sturdy southern accent that made it sometime laborious to
understand him.
On his desk there were pictures of his wife and
daughters. The walls in his office were cover with all types
of trophies and diplomas, the typical things in an executive‟s
office. The room had a dirty red carpet, and the walls were
cover with plywood panels, painted in mahogany. His desk
was in the same dark color, and it was an early
twenty-century vogue.
Apparently, Dr. Walden was using an old approach,
the intimidation task, but I wasn‟t buying his representation.
Milano, who sat beside me in front of the desk, observed
Walden with a light on his face, as if God were speaking
from the other side of the desk.
The two men asked all kinds of questions about my
past experience as coach, and teacher. It looked to me at that
time that they value more my coaching experience than my
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teaching. For them the athletic program came first than the
academics.
“Can you coach volleyball?” Milano asked me.
“Yes, I do! I was a trainer and the coach in St. Mary
Catholic. I was fortunate that the last two years my
volleyball team placed first and second in our division,” I
said. “I taught in St. Mary for two years, right before I
moved to Orlando.” My answers were to the point and with
a grin on my face. I couldn‟t help myself; I knew that the
sport was easy for me.
“The person that we are going to hire is going to
coach two girls‟ teams, the JV and the varsity,” Walden
explained with a serious tone in his voice. “Have you ever
coach girls?”
“No, I had not, but I managed a semi-pro woman‟s team
for about two years,” I answered. “A friend of mine owns the
team, and I learned a lot from him about women‟s sports.” I
know that they liked my response. Their faces were easy to
read.
By the time they began talking about BASKETBALL my
confidence built up. Walden and Milano were in my
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old. At the same time I was going to have the chance to help
young people, my mission in life as I saw it at that time.
Mr. Milano brought me to his office to say goodbye when
the tour was over. He let me know some details of the
benefits and teachers‟ salary. Their teachers received
housing, utilities, and meals --breakfast, lunch, and dinner--
as part of their payment. They estimated the package around
the twenty thousand dollars a year. I thought then that the
whole deal was great for me that I could not ask for more.
As I drove back to Kirkman Road thinking that the
position belongs to me, even though the two men didn‟t say
anything to ensure that. I believed that my father spirit was
behind all these that he came that night to point me this place
out. I was so animated that I called my mother the minute I
got inside my apartment, to tell her that I found a job. I even
prayed to God, and asked he to help these two men to find
the best man for the job, me. The opportunity was so good
that I was going to need all the help possible. They spent
more than two hours with me, in my mind that was a good
indication.
I napped close to four o‟clock that afternoon and in my
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and according to Coach he had stinky feet. “He can play any
sport, Coach,” Chris said, “but his attitude sucks.” For him
Victor was in the same situation, a good player but bad
attitude. Coach Brown put him out of the basketball team
during his last season in Green Hills‟.
In one point of our exchange Chris lower his voice to
say something as if he didn‟t want the walls to listen.
“Coach, what you‟re going to find out here is that kids hate
the school, with its owners too,” he said.
“The Waldens?” I whispered. I understood that
today‟s kids don‟t like to come to school but to hate the
Waldens included other things.
As I was about to leave Chris brought up the last
name, Bobby Hunter. He only knew him by reference. “He
was not here last year, but he came to the academy for three
years before the last one, and he‟s coming back.” Then he
added; “Coach Brown taught him how to play basketball,
and he said that he was quite good.”
“We‟ll see how good he is,” I responded as I left the
room. “See you later, and thanks.”
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and I didn‟t want to drive all the way to the Y. I realized that
this place was going to be a lot different from any other I
worked before. The students were going to live in campus; it
was another language for me; and the people who‟re going to
deal with me didn‟t know. This time I was to begin to make
a name for myself.
It was bright; the sun was too high for the time of the
day. Since I moved to Florida, my notion of time was totally
abnormal. The heat and the lack of humidity burned the
grass on the plain behind the dormitory, typical August‟s
weather, the hottest month of the year in Florida.
I was making shots on the hoops and running back
and forward to burn some energy. I crossed the concrete
floor more than ten times dribbling my old Wilson 210,
when I detected a car approaching the building.
A woman came out of a light gray-blue Honda Civic
station wagon. A lady stepped out of the vehicle with a pack
of cigarettes and lighter in hands. She impressed me as a
tough one, like those that wouldn‟t take anything from
anyone. The woman turned to look at me, and when she
perceived me, she displaced closer to me.
“Are you the new Coach?” she asked me in a friendly
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tone.
“Yes,” I responded while I put my body in a discreet
position. I noticed that there was a southern accent in her
voice. I thought in that moment that the rest of Florida
wasn‟t like Miami; it was another southern State.
“Hi, my name is Martha, Martha Martin,” she said to
me. “Have you, being inside the Hall?”
“I‟m Tony,” I said, “No, I haven‟t.”
“Com‟ on in, so you can meet Mr. Martin.”
I said yes, „cause it would give me the chance to
learn more about the school facilities and its people. And it
was very kind from her to invite me inside.
Eaton Hall has two long corridors with little rooms
on each side of the galleries unified by a structure that
worked as a lobby. In the back there was entertainment area,
equipped with a TV, a Ping-Pong table and three vending
machines. The Martins‟ quarters were in the center of the
action, between the lobby and the amusement room. Down
the two halls there were thirty-two little accommodations
that were used by the students. Inside each quarter there
were bum-beds, two desks with its respected chairs --one for
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were out and the only illumination was coming from a glass
door window at the end of the hall.
I followed Mrs. Martin with a feeling of security;
provably if I were alone, I wouldn‟t go near the apparition.
She kept on going closer to the man, and then she said to
him, “Donald, this is the new Coach.”
The man stopped the utensil, and glanced at me as if I
were a rear insect. He didn‟t say hello, he just smiled and
showed me his rotten teeth. I moved back a centimeter
because he gave me an alcohol reek.
“Well, I have a player for you, Coach,” he said.
I didn‟t know how to take that, so I answered with an
uhum sound.
“His name is Bobby Hunter!” This was the second
time I heard this name. Then, I knew that Mr. Martin was
serious.
“I play golf. Do you?” he asked.
“No, I don‟t. I play basketball,” I said.
“I don‟t play that, I play golf,” he got angry. “Mr.
McGuire and I played golf all time.”
“I‟m sure he‟s very good,” I tried to be polite with
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mine respond.
“Ha! He‟s a wannabe,” Mr. Martin laughed. “You
should play with me one day, Coach.”
“Well, I never played before, but if someone teaches
me, I think I could get it,” I said.
I left the building after a fifteen-minute talk about
golf, a sport that I never tried and which I haven‟t had a clue
about. I returned to the basketball court behind the hall to
find Chris McGuire shooting baskets there. He was dressed
in a red jersey with Auburn University logos in the front,
“Who can say that he‟s a teacher in this place?” I thought.
I was going to play a game with someone at last, but
he wasn‟t interested. He wanted to talk about his basketball
team. Chris told me that these kids didn‟t know how to hold
the basketball.
“They all played for the first time last season,” he
said, while he scratched his head with his left hand. “They
didn‟t know how to make a pass, Coach.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said while tried to
cut his conversation and put the basketball on his hands. I
don‟t come to a court to talk basketball. “I saw the scored
books in Mr. Milano office. You lost a game by fifty-one
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Chapter II
1
I know that a teacher shouldn‟t be a friend of their
students, „cause they could take advantage from the situation
over other pupils. I have to confess that I had sinned from
this in the past. But what can we do? We‟re only human
beings trying to educate a group of youngsters. It‟s a part of
human nature to like and dislike some people.
When I signed the contract with Green Hills‟, I
promised myself that this wasn‟t going to happen this time.
Knowing that this was a boarding school I knew that the
students were going to be in a twenty-four-hour deal the
situation. And I thought that I was too old to be a child‟s
friend; adults were to be with adults and no with children.
The night before the students came to Green Hills‟; I
dreamed about Jose Roman. He was my favorite pupil in St.
Mary, the only private school in my hometown. I always
thought that he was a fair in basketball, but in the other hand
he was an awesome volleyball player.
I met Jose when he was only ten, for his age he was
really tall. I picked him to play basketball for that reason.
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gym with some of his friends. I asked him what he was doing
there, but he didn‟t respond. He just smiled. My friend
looked like a ghost.
I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about
all those details that stills bother me to these days. It was
three o‟clock in the morning and I didn‟t want to remember
him. I didn‟t want to remember the day that my mother told
me that Jose was killed in a car crash. I didn‟t want to
remember that he was like a son for me. I didn‟t want to
remember that I never told him that.
It‟s amusing how the mind works early in the
morning. That morning I promised myself that I wouldn‟t
get friendly to any of those students that were coming to
Green Hills‟ the next morning.
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3
It was amusing to see how the kids reacted when they
saw their old teachers again in the lobby of the
administration building. There weren‟t especial emotions
between these two groups, just a dry hello.
The first one to come inside the afternoon was a dark
skin and green eyes‟ girl with a pleasant smile and a
melancholic stare. She was with her father. I thought that
they were Cubans from Miami, because they spoke good
English, but later I found out that they were from Panama.
“Hello Vanessa,” Mrs. Thomas was the first to greet
her.
“Hi,” the girl returned the greetings with a spiritless
grin on her face. “It‟s good to see you again,” she said. I will
never forget that image of her saying those words. It was a
cold reception from the teacher part, and it seemed to me that
Vanessa wasn‟t blighted to see him again.
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well.”
“Hi,” he said with an unfriendly gesture on his face.
At that point I assumed that maybe he was resenting that
Coach Brown wasn‟t there anymore, and that he wasn‟t
going to like me no matter what I could do to help him.
I didn‟t pay too much attention to him because his
attitude, and in that moment another boy came throughout
the glass doors. This one was difficult to tell where he came
from. I knew that Elliot was from Miami, and that his
parents were Cubans, his black hair, dark eyes and olive skin
showed his background.
This other boy was wearing a tang top, so it was easy
to see a homemade tattoo on his right shoulder. He was
really young at least fifteen or maybe younger than that. His
eyes were light brown; almost green, and the sun toasted his
hair and skin, I thought that he was a surfer due.
The guy that was with him was as big as a
professional wrestler; he had a thick beard and his face was
red, it seeing to me that he was a heavy drinker. The big guy
didn‟t have any relationship with the boy. I thought that this
man could be the boy‟s bodyguard. However, the young
fellow seemed discontent with the man‟s present in the
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lobby.
Elliot acknowledged the new kid by his name; he
called him Victor, and he was joyful to see Elliot. It crossed
my mind that this young man couldn‟t be the Victor that
everyone was talking about. The boy, whom Chris referred
too, was a six-two and two-hundred pound turkey, and this
other one was roughly in his hundred and twenty, and didn‟t
look Hispanic. The two kids began chatting like old pals,
while the lobby flooded with more people. They didn‟t stop
to consider what was going around them.
The foyer took a new life; the arrivers from last year
blended with the new comers, they all looked for their class
schedule cards. In one corner of the counter there were a
mother and her twin sons, Rick and Joey -- that was how she
called them. She told one of them that she was going to sign
his brother for sports but not him. “I‟m going to let Joey play
soccer this year,” the lady put a mean face for her son.
Rick laid his head on the counter top with a sad
bearing on his eyebrows. Then he told her, “Mother, please,
I want to play soccer this year.” Rick‟s gesticulations were
of anguish, as if his life was depending of the soccer game.
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player. Victor Lopes was presented too; he was tall and fat.
The popular Bobby Hunter, the kid that everyone was talking
about, he was trying to show off his skills to everyone on the
floor. I thought that Bobby was acting up 'cause he knew
that I was watching him.
The truth was that I didn‟t pay too much attention to
them, Basketball was too far away from our first day of
school, and the volleyball season was over us. Green Hills
commenced later than the other school in the conference, and
that night was my first chance to see the girls perform.
In the other side of the gym a group of Japanese boys
was playing soccer with a basketball. No far away from
them, in another corner of the building sitting on the
bleachers, the Hispanic kids were chatting about their first
experience in the strange land. Their common languages
connected them, and created a bound between them. They
acted shy when it was time to speak English, but when they
were amounts themselves it was another story.
I moved to the middle court with my volleyball to try
to call the attention of the girls. Pamela Wong was the first
one to come to the center; she was Korean, and she was in
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couldn‟t get a hold on, and I didn‟t know why or how, but it
was as if I knew him from somewhere before.
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Chapter III
1
There was a bell for everything in Green Hills; it was
like being in a reformatory or a prison. The sounds of each
bell ran the lives of all the boarding school residents; they
would tell everyone what was on schedule for the day; they
announced breakfast, lunch and diner. The sound of the
buzzers marked all the activities; for every hour of the day a
long and loud ring was going to rule what to do and how to
do it. And if the students didn‟t follow those rulings, they
were going to get in a deep-shit-hole.
6:30 A.M.
My alarm clock woke me up for my first day of
school. The sun didn‟t come early that morning; it was dark
when I went out of the bed. I was going to eat my breakfast
in the Dining Hall. It was a requirement to be on time for it,
because they served breakfast at 6:45 A.M., and the whole
student body and some teachers were going to be there. And
if you were late there was a possibility that you wouldn‟t
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8:00 A.M.
The scholars were going to their respective
classrooms. I was heading to my own chamber in the second
floor of the McNeill-Lawrence Building, the oldest structure
of the school, and where they predetermined my classroom.
Only a few of them said hello to me that morning,
they were in a hurry. They all knew that if they were late for
the class they were going to get two hours work with the first
tardy of the year. I saw some of the kids that played with me
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9:40 A.M.
My first class was really something. In it there were
two boys from Mexico, one from the Cayman Islands, Spain,
Columbia, Curacao, and Trinidad-Tobago respectfully.
There were three American girls, one from Panama and
Ecuador; it was atypical mixed. It was as if the United
Nation reallocated into my classroom and it was under my
control. And I was a nervous Puerto Rican teacher who was
going to teach in English for the first time in his life. As I
saw them taking their seats, I got confused. When I signed
my contract with the administration, they informed me that I
was going to teach 7th and 8th grade Health Science.
However, these people were high school juniors and seniors.
I introduced myself, as any other teacher will do in
his first class. The kids were testing my ability to teach since
the first minute they came throughout the door. They stared
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10:30 A.M.
Next in line was the study hall period, which became
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the day‟s best hour for the rest of the school year. I had only
girls in that session, and again the UN moved in my little
space; two Japanese, one Brazilian, one Puerto Ricans, and
three American girls made the pack. Pamela Wong, Monica
Gomez and Morgan Taylor were assembling together in one
corner of the room.
I introduced myself, this time formally, as their new
coach and teacher. We talked about different topics, and of
course about the Volleyball Teams, and their last season. I
knew their record, but I made it easy for them by not putting
down their teams.
Pamela blamed everything on a girl named Danielle
DeLoch, yet she wasn‟t in school anymore. She told that
Danielle passed on her bad attitude to the rest of the players.
11:00 A.M.
After the end of the fourth period my responsibilities
were to take my students to the Dining Hall for lunch. There
was another group assigned to eat at the same time with us --
Chris McGuire‟s study hall. The group was made up of
boys; Ryan LeCarre and Mark Hilltop were in that bunch.
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he told me that the dining hall meals didn‟t agree with his
taste. I was pleased with it; the menu for the day was
chicken patties, corn and a salad bar with different types of
dressing, vegetables and desserts.
“Wait for a couple of weeks,” he said, “you‟ll see
that they‟re going to repeat the thing every week.” He had an
ironic smile between his lips.
Then, we went back to our apartments to prepare for
the next period.
12:35 P.M.
The school clustered my fifth period with seventh
and eight graders; they scheduled them together because
there weren‟t enough students to make two different physical
education classes for them. They assigned eleven boys and
four girls to this session. Their bodies and minds were
clearly starting to develop into what we called teenagers, that
strange creature that is between two worlds. It was then that
I learned that Johnny Bovies was hyperactive, and that the
group was very difficult to handle too. They were hard to
manage as a group, and there wasn‟t a difference between
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1:24 P.M.
Dalton Monroe called everyone to the bleachers; we
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2:13 P.M.
We repeated the same process with the next groups;
the girls were going to be in my class and the boys were
going to be with McGuire and Monroe, with the exception of
the soccer players. The students were distributed in fair
shares between them, while Milano was going to have
another group until the soccer season was over. Mr.
Marquez was going to assist him with the soccer players.
I called my entire group inside the activity building
after a short lecture of how the things were going to be in my
class. With the exception of a Puerto Rican boy, who asked
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3:00 P.M.
I was really exhausted at the end of this last period; I
could smell my body odor. The next period was easier of all.
It was tutoring-hour. As school rules all pupils with low
grades, lower than a “C,” were to report with the teachers for
help. And if for any reason the student didn‟t show, he or she
was to receive five work hours as a penalty.
In my first day of school nobody showed to this
tutoring class.
3:45 P.M.
After everything was over for the day, I went back to
my apartment to get some rest. I need time to recharge my
human batteries, so I could be an able handle what was
coming; I called for volleyball tryouts that night.
The rest of the year turned to be the same in every
day of the week; no major changes occurred in my schedule
and my daily routine. I had nine months of doing the same
almost every day of the week. I learned during that year that
it wasn‟t the quality or the quantity of your work that counts.
I discovered that sometimes you need to do an extra work to
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forgot that Chris was there; I thought that he was one of the
kids. “Thanks Coach,” he went out to search for the boy.
“Oh!” Christina howled out her pain.
“OK, let‟s take her to the bench,” I said to the other
girls. Allison and Carla helped me to move Christina to a
chair placed against the red brick wall. While we transferred
her, she cursed her whole Family, the school, and other
animals around. Her limb took the shape of an egg, as if
someone had put a baseball inside her skin. I knew her pain
very well, as an athlete this was the only injury I had ever
had. After a while you can feel the blood running through
the ankle, and the heartbeat pulsation with it.
“Shit, these people aren‟t coming,” I said aloud.
“Coach?” Michelle Johnson opened her mouth with
surprise.
“Sorry,” I apologized after I realized that my
language was not appropriated.
After waiting for around fifteen minutes for some
help Milano showed in the school van with Alma Walden
and her secretary, and they were in a passive mode. Milano
looked at the injured ankle and then said, “That‟s nothing.
Put some ice over tonight, and tomorrow we‟ll take you to
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the clinic.”
“Tomorrow?” Christina shouted and cried
simultaneously.
“Honey, you know this had happened before,” Mrs.
Moira buttered her voice to talk to the girl; she thought that
she was talking to a two-year-old.
“And, what fucking different does that make?” the
girl blared at the smiling woman.
“One moment young lady, you don‟t have to be so
rough with us. We just want the best for you.” Mrs. Walden
opened her mouth to discipline Christina, when I interrupted
her to say aloud, “I don‟t know but the ankle doesn‟t look
good. I think that we . . . “
“Coach, don‟t worry about it. We‟ll take her to the
dorm,” Milano cut my line of thought. “We know the
policies and we know what to do in these cases. Let‟s take
her to the van.” He gave an above-face and headed to the
doors. Mrs. Walden and her assistant followed him, while
Chris, Fernando and I carried the injured body to the vehicle
parked in front of the gymnasium.
“These fucking people don‟t care.” Christina cried,
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and let out what it was being said about me around campus.
“Ferrer, you know what they‟re saying about you?”
she asked me as she pointed at the guys playing in the near
hoop. Bobby, Ryan, Mark, and other boys were on stage
under the gym‟s west board.
“No, what‟re they saying, Carla?” I thought that she
was promoting the gossip. “That you suck as a coach,” she
aired.
“So, that‟s what they‟re venting around,” I said with
a cynical tone in my voice. “And, what do you think?” I
asked her.
Carla paused and glanced at me to make her epigram,
“I think that you‟re OK.” She always struck me, as a person
that doesn‟t kiss ass, so whatever she said was the true.
When she expressed this to me, I gained confidence again,
the confidence that I was losing after my meet Walden. I felt
the intimidation, and I reasoned that he didn‟t have an idea
about what volleyball really is. I was coaching two teams
simultaneously, and they were in different play levels, it was
as trying to put a mouse to play with a lion. Nevertheless,
Walden didn‟t know that, they were looking for a problem
without looking at the big picture.
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The season was on its way, and the junior team was
picking up with five victories on a row, and only three
losses, which they got in the beginning of the campaign. In
the other hand the Varsity struggled with two wins and six
mislaying. Their next encounter was against the Lutheran
School of Orlando, who happened to have the best athletic
program of the conference. Its reputation was well known by
all the coaches I spoke too.
My players were always tattling about Luther‟s
teams, which came to our gym in with a 6‟2” tall girl. As
she walked inside the main vault of our facility, all my
players ran to me to ask me about the giant girl. Her side
shook me but I didn‟t show any fearsome sign to my players,
what they got from me was a cool attitude.
The night turned to be a busy one, it was a Friday
night so I set my mind to go to a movie after the games. I
tried to let everything in order so I could leave as soon the
games were over. The whole process of preparing for the
event was exciting; I was responsible for keeping track of
my athletes‟ warm-ups, set the net for both matches, and to
find four students that would help as line judges and
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scorekeeper.
The preparations were fine until I found out that
Fernando was caught smoking in his room the night before.
He wasn‟t going to be a line judge that night, so I was short
by one, and time was running out. He was washing dishes in
the Dining Hall „cause of his smoking habits. I looked to see
if anyone was good enough to fill his shoes, but I didn‟t
know any student well to ask them to do the job. Then, I
saw the blond boy, Rick or Devin, coming through the gym‟s
doors. It was the first time that he showed to see a game,
after he asked me to be in my class and offered to help with
the teams. The kid was wearing one of the physical
education uniforms with a red biker pant under his shorts; he
looked comical to me at that point. He looked around, as if
he were looking for someone.
For a moment I forgot his name again, I was going to
call him Rick, after Ricky Schroeder, but his name came to
my head. “Devin,” I called him.
He glanced at me, and immediately came to where I
was sitting on the bench. “Did you call me, Coach?”
“Yes, I need two line judges for this game. Would
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you help me tonight?” I asked him. “I‟ll give you extra credit
if you help. Remember what you said about helping with the
teams.”
“I know, but you got Fernando,” he answered, “and I
don‟t get alone with him.”
“He‟s working in the Dining Hall,” I told him. “He
can‟t help any more.”
He smiled, and gave no thought to his response, “OK,
I‟ll help you in the first game, I want to played basketball
after.”
“Oh, basketball!”
Devin glinted with his eyes, and grinned as if he were
embarrassed from his revelation. I continued to explain what
he was going to do as a line judge, and then he went to talk
to the game officials. Again his face reminds me of
someone, but I wasn‟t sure whom.
The junior team won in two sets; their match became
an easy conquest. I was so content with them that I even
called for a time-out to say to the girls that they needed more
competition, that the other team was pitiful. They laughed,
and implied that I was mean, in a fun way. I then told them
that I have a new name for the team, “The Eagles of
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to use it too.
The pool was semi-Olympic, 25 X 20 meters, and it
was always in bad shape until the last two weeks. The head
of maintenance, Mark Woods, put two suspended students to
work on it.
My group was waiting for me in front of the pool‟s
gate; Johnny and the rest of the gang were wearing their
bathing suit. They were carrying their towels, book bags and
their school clothes in their hands. The whole thing created
a good atmosphere; kids and water make a good
combination. I told them that we‟re going to be the whole
week in the pool, and they were delighted with the news. I
was trying to make the class as fun as possible for them, I
thought that in this way they were going at least to enjoy
something about the school.
This group was very special for me, no because they
were smart or athletic, because I thought that they were too
young to be away from home for such a long time.
Understanding why a child in the middle of the most
important and difficult stage of their life was absent from the
most important people in their life was hard.
It was going to be a pleasant hour, until Mark Wood
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it.”
“OK. If I‟m going to help you, tell me where and
when? I don‟t have time for you, Kid,” I said.
“You‟ve,” he let out. “After dinner we can practice
behind Eaton Hall, and help me with my game. I know that
you‟re finished with the girls, so you got the time, you just
don‟t want to give time to me.”
“I need some rest, Kid,” I said, but he already
convinced. I paused for a second to think about what I was
going to say. “You just don‟t want to give me your time,”
Devin‟s word resounded in my head; they were closed to a
conversation I had with my father. Finally, I said to him,
“OK, but let me tell you one thing. If you don‟t do what I
ask you to do, I‟m out of the deal.” I glanced at him and said
very firmly, “Do you understand?”
“Yeah, I do,” he answered. There was an unusual
grin on his face. “Let‟s go now!”
“Now?”
“Yeah, now!”
“You mean tonight?”
Devin took my hand and pulled me out of the chair; it
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ball handling.
There were other students on the court that evening,
and many were even better than Devin. I guessed that they
were puzzled by my present on the court. Kim Maxwell and
Victor Lopes were shooting on the opposite hoop, while we
were under the south board of the large concrete slab.
“Devin, show me how you dribble,” I requested.
He began the task by dribbling from one side to the
other bending his body as if had a painful cramp in his
stomach. In that moment, I imagined that he was provably
an ultraconservative his left-hand was null. It was really
jocular; I didn‟t laugh because I didn‟t want to embarrass
him.
“OK! Stop. I had seen enough.” I immobilized him,
and then called him to a corner in the court. “First, you
would not bend your torso like that when you dribble,” I said
while I showed him how to do it correctly. “And, that
basketball isn‟t going to help you! It‟s lighter than a beach
ball,” I added.
So, I went to my car and opened the trunk to get a
new ball, the one I bought to cure my fever at the „Y‟. I
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said, “It‟s nice to see that you get angry with yourself . . . If
you want to do anything in life, you have to have that desire.
Like Apollo Creek told Rocky; you have to have the eye of
the tiger.”
“You don‟t know how much I want this.”
“No, but I have an idea. See you‟ tomorrow, Kid,” I
said while I moved away from him. And when I was about
to get in the car, he asked me; “Why do you always call me
KID?”
“Because, that‟s the way I called all my basketball
players,” I told him.
“I‟m your player now?”
“We‟ll see.”
“What about the basketball?” Devin asked.
“Keep it. It‟s yours now,” I said.
I turned my car on the Eaton Hall‟s dirt road, and
while the vehicle advanced I watched him throughout my
rear mirror to see what he up too. He was dribbling the ball
while he watched the Toyota heading forward. I gained his
trust that evening, and since then I never lost it.
I came back the next day, the next week, and he kept
his promise. In less than a week he was dribbling the
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you‟ll understand.”
“Why? Because, I‟m only sixteen.”
“No, it‟s not that!”
“You people don‟t like to tell us things. You think
that we‟re too young to understand. You think that „cause
we‟re young we don‟t have brains,” she aired. “Coach, I
thought that you‟re different.”
“Don‟t say that. You know that I‟m the standard
type,” I said. “You know that I treated you in another way,
not like the other teachers.”
“Yeah, but don‟t you trust us?”
“I do,” I said in a firm tone. “It‟s just that I don‟t
want to talk about it. It‟s just those girls . . . they
pissed-me-up . . . They didn‟t follow a shit of what I said to
them in the game.”
“Coach,” she glowed while she put her hand again on
her left cheek. I didn‟t have other alternative, but to chuckle
with them.
After a while we stopped the heehaw, and them I told
her, “You know, I think that you‟re the prettiest girl in the
school.”
Christina‟s cheeks‟ bloodshed, she waited about five
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Chapter IV
1
I felt that someone was watching me very closely
during the entire volleyball season. Every time that I crossed
the campus‟s there was a pair of eyes staring at me. At first I
wasn‟t sure of this physical existence, but she emitted some
peeks that put me on the guard.
Alexandra Miller was the director the Daughters of
America Dormitory, but everyone inside the old building
called her Alex. She was only twenty-eight at that time, but
she looked twenty or less. She didn‟t talk when we met in
the dinning hall or the gym. Even though that she only said
a hello every time we met, I always knew that she had a little
crush with me.
Alex came to every home game in Alma Walden‟s
company; they were the number one fans of the girls. The
pair posed on the bleachers in front of our bench to cheer,
and sometimes to help the players with their little problems.
As I coached the games my eyes crossed the court
lines to see if she were glancing at me. In many
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two and haft bathrooms, two car garages with remote doors,
a satellite dish, a Family and game room with a pool table
and a treadmill, and charming dining and living rooms.
They assembled the kitchen with all the commodities that
anyone can image in a house. Behind it there was a lake
with a small marina that was school property, guarded with a
pair of black German Shepherds.
I felt intimidated when step out of my automobile,
and walked to the front door. The lights weren‟t on in the
porch, as if the house was giving me an evil eye of
inspection when I rang the doorbell. I waited for a couple of
minute with my hands crossed in front of my body, and
when the door opened Alex appeared. She was wearing a
fine light green sweater, blue jeans and a pair of leather
boots. It was a surprise for me; through the whole first three
months of the school year I saw her in sweat pans and light
shirts. However, that night she looked ravishing, her image
changed, she was not longer a house-parent. Now Alex was
an attractive woman that was smiling at me and invited me
inside. She agitated my lucidity in that moment.
I followed her inside to a great room by the kitchen,
where Matthew Walden sat on a reclining chair facing the
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past.
From this day on we knew each other better, in a way
I thought that we were alike; she was there, standing by for
something to turn around her life, and I was trying to make
the changes in mine.
When I returned her to the Waldens‟ home, it was
close to midnight. I walked her to the door and then kissed
her; I could it tell in her eyes that she was surprised with the
kiss. Then she said goodbye.
As I walked back to my car, I saw the full moon was
in its high on the night sky. For the first time in days my
mind was free of school pensiveness; I was thinking about
the good time I had with Alex that night.
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Chapter V
1
We played our first basketball game against
Orangewood Christian, and a three-point-shot condemned us
after leading the match in it‟s wholesome. Nevertheless, I
was really happy with the result; Bobby Hunter fouled out
and this made the whole different. He was the only point
guard that we could count on that night. So, in my book we
didn‟t lose the game.
Our second bet was the Lutheran School; they were
rank number seven in the State by the Sentinel, in our
division. And Bobby did the same, he fouled out, and we
lost by fifteen points this time. I pinpointed that there was
some pressure rising again on my coaching style. Everyone
was there to see the two schools play. Milano, Mark Woods,
and Alex watched the duel with a lot of interest from the
stands.
I took all my players to the locker room after
everything was over. Many of them were acting as if
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improve my game?”
“My friend, you are one of the best players of this
team,” I said. “And I mean it! You shoot well from outside,
and you can dribble even better than me.”
“Yeah, but why I‟m not showing it!”
“„Cause, you ain‟t givin' yourself time to improve.
You know that I believe in your skills more than many of
your teammates. I think that you should keep on shooting
and forget what they say about it. If you have the green light
from your Coach, you shouldn‟t give a dame about them.
It‟ll come to you one of these days, you‟ll see. I know what
I‟m telling you,” I said to him.
Jason glanced at me as if I gave him another reason
to live, then he smirked and voiced to me, “Coach, you‟re
better than Brown.”
“Well thank you, Kid,” I said. “Let‟s go inside. It‟s
getting cold here.”
Jason overwhelmed me; I was delighted with what he
said. In the other hand, I was mad about the loss, and
because Bobby was right. I didn‟t feel that they put all the
effort on the court. The team was going through the motions
and not the emotion of playing.
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you‟re playing better every day, and you don‟t believe me.”
“Com‟on, tell me what did I do wrong tonight,” he
insisted.
“You‟re stopping your dribbling too soon after you
crossed the back-court-line, and then you wanted to pass
from there. That‟s why they stole it from you five times.”
“Four times.”
“That‟s good, Kid,” I said. “You kept track of your
turnovers.”
“So, how can I improve that?”
“I told you to keep on practicing your ball handling.”
Suddenly, I recalled that Devin was sitting by
Edward Milano on the bleachers while our game was
happening. “Tell me something,” I said to him, “you were
next to Mr. Milano tonight while we played Luther.”
“Yeah!” he answered.
“What did he say, you know about the varsity?” I
asked him.
“I can‟t tell you,” he changed his semblance to a
serious display. “You‟re not going to like it.”
“I promise I‟ll be fine! Tell me.”
Devin paused for about two seconds, and then said;
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Academy?”
Devin got quiet; he wasn‟t smiling anymore. His
face turned to the vehicle‟s window, and then he told me, “I
don‟t get alone with my mom. She‟s a b . . . !” his last
remarks came out of his mouth with a sourer flavor.
“Don‟t say that . . .” It shocked me, as if was about to
meet Mr. Hyke.
“It‟s the true. You don‟t know her nobody knows
her. It‟s like living with a Wicked Witch of the West.”
“It‟s that the reason?” I asked.
He paused to think, I knew that his head was looking
for a way out of the conversation, so he ended saying,
“While my parents were away, I gave a party for my friends.
So I was sent to Green Hills as punishment.” Devin vended a
little grin as he told me that.
“Well, you got it,” I let out, and then laughed a little
about it.
A melancholy semblance felt on the boys face; there
was something about him that inspired me to protecting.
Devin had a vulnerability that goes between the heart and the
soul, which it‟s hard to pin points in humans with soured life.
I changed the issue to something put us in a close path,
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know that thing like that happens in any contact sport. The
league punished Victor by sitting him in our next game. Yet,
now he was going to receive an extra discipline action from
the school President. Inside the mind of Matthew Walden
that wasn‟t enough, he had to punish him more. They should
embarrass Victor in front of everyone in the school, and
discipline his actions in a basketball game.
Wood went to Mr. Milano the night of the incident,
and spelled from his malicious mind all. They never gave
me the chance to inform the occurrence myself; it was as if
the academy had a hidden agenda with Victor. Victor was
bad as it gets for them, and because of that they penalized
him as hard as possible.
When we left the office Victor asked me, “Ferrer,
what‟s wrong with trying to defend myself?”
“I don‟t know, Kid. I really don‟t know.”
“You saw what happened. The Jackass pushed me
first and I pushed him away. I didn‟t even have the chance to
throw a fist,” he said with a puzzling look in his eyes. “The
next time, I‟m going to kick the shit out of the dick-face.”
I thought that his disappointment made him talked
like that, so I didn‟t correct his offensive language, I just
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basketball point guard the same year that Bobby didn‟t come
to Green Hills.
So, Elliot didn‟t like Bobby since the beginning; he
was a threat to his place as a school‟s athlete. In a meeting
with Milano before their season was over, Bobby spoke his
mind about how bad Elliot was playing. Milano threw gas
into the fire by letting them screamed at each other; this
created the first confrontation. Bobby was more eloquent
with words than Elliot, who was the quiet type.
The main issue for me was that Bobby was a batter
basketball player than Elliot in all aspect of the game. There
were not doubts about this, he handled and shot the ball
better, and his sense on the court was one best I ever
encountered. In the other hand Elliot didn‟t practice with the
team before the season began, and his mind was always on
the clowns; his girlfriend was in his brain sucking his
concentration away from sports. Elliot was the kind that will
write poems to his girls, while the teacher was giving a
lecture in Calculus.
Bobby became the varsity‟s point guard, and Elliot‟s
frustration increased with every bounce the basketball took
from adversary. And by Elliot not playing the first three
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more in our way home; the music that the radio produced in
those days accompanied our trip.
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benches.
Florida Air had an excellent program, their players
were all blacks, and their basketball skills were first-class.
As their center they had a 6‟6” fellow named Charlton
Higgins. In the last encounter, Green Hills lost by thirty-five
points, and the giant scored forty-two points. My players
were afraid of the boy, the only one who was not alarm was
Bobby, but he was in bed with a 104-degree fever.
The Junior Varsity played first that evening; this gave
me the chance to watch their game for first time since they
played Luther. I sat next to Ryan and Johnny on the
bleachers, in front of team bench. Chris McGuire started
with Devin as a point guard. He was improving, but I didn‟t
think that he was ready to maneuver against the Air
Academy thespians.
They began with some slow passes, as their Coach
requested them to do. Devin was doing very well, in a way
I was pleased with his performance. His ball handling was
excellent and his control of the game tempo was close to
what I would expect for one of my point guards. And while
Ryan and Johnny cheered from the sidelines for the team, I
coached him from the crow. I was feeling good about how
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moved to the left and then to the right in small fake turns.
“Shoot it,” Ryan and I shouted in a unison voice.
The boy drove to his right side, and then took a jump
shot. The basketball crossed the hoop without touching the
rim, and the ball friction burned only the net. His release
was perfect; it had the style of a terpsichorean. He ran the
court and placed himself on his guarding position in front of
the one-one-three formation that Coach was using since the
beginning of the game. Then, Devin eyed at us and smiled
with a satisfying gesture on his face. I felt a proud feeling
running throughout my being, like what a father could
experience when he sees his son carrying out a prowess.
“Your boy‟s playing GOOD!” Ryan declared while
he shook his legs and pushed my shoulders with his right
hand.
“OK, OK, I know he is,” I said while I pushed him
away.
Johnny glanced at Devin with an envious
countenance; he was jealous of Devin „cause he was in the
team. I didn‟t understand why he was behaving like that.
Although, I didn‟t care, I was so overbearing of Devin‟s
progress that I over looked Johnny‟s resentment.
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sat in a booth after our order was ready, and began chatting
about our lives, our families and off-course the school.
“I‟ve a sister and a brother, she‟s only fourteen
months older than me,” I said. “We‟re very close. She‟s my
best friend!”
“What‟s her name?”
“Sara. But, I call her Sally.”
“Why?”
“I don‟t know. It never occurred to me to ask why
they call her like that. I think it was my father‟s idea that
started with that tradition.”
“I‟m talking too much,” I said. Alex was in a probing
mood. “Now it‟s your turn.”
“I don‟t talk much,” she said. “I guess it‟s „cause I
like to observer humanity.”
“Do you have any brother or sister?” I asked.
“I had a sister; she died in a car accident five years
ago. She was seven years older than I,” she answered with a
little grin in her lips.
“I‟m sorry,” I felt bad about my intromission. “Keep
on asking the wrong questions.”
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Hills buildings loges; the mystery was that the Waldens has
two buildings named after them. The administration offices
were dedicated to Matthew Walden, while the Fine Arts
Center had Alma Walden‟s name on its entrance. It was
really unparalleled to see how they displaced their names on
two of the main facilities of the school. I never saw anything
like that before. Where I came from, the law to dedicate
governmental facilities prohibited the use of names of living
creatures and the private sector follows the rule.
Milano excused the name thing one afternoon that he
was discussing the school policies. He said that Walden had
been with the Academy for at least thirty years, and that they
have done many things for it.
The Fine Art Center was the place where they held
all the collective activities. Graduation, shows, conference,
plays, exhibitions and other stuff were part of the bustles
given in the location. However, the most important weekly
activity given by the school in this structure was the Friday‟s
Students and Faculty Assembly. The student body was
supposed to go to these meetings to receive weekly
information from the administrators. The main
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.”
“Cool it, Elliot,” I shouted, “It wasn‟t your business.”
I held his arm; I was attempting to stop to go after Bobby.
Bobby left the building; Elliot came to his senses,
while the others observed without emotion the whole drama.
The bells marked the end of the first semester and the
beginning of the Christmas. I told everyone to leave, and go
to his or her dorms, except Elliot and Devin. I was really
angry with myself because I lost control. I knew that Bobby
was out of order. Devin was his victim in that whole mess,
and Elliot acted in an impulse. He wanted revenge with his
competitor-- and I behaved as one of them, I became what I
didn‟t want to be, another chap.
Victor remained in the gym waiting for his friend
Elliot; he wanted to see what I was going to say to his buddy.
A “Why?” came out of my mouth, I didn‟t
understand why I reacted as if I wanted to bully Bobby.”
Coach, he‟s an ass hole. Everyone hates his gauss,” Elliot
said. “He treats people like shit.”
“Yeah, He‟s like that,” Victor intervened. “Oh! How
I hope that once he tries to messes‟ with me, „cause I‟m
going to kick his ass.”
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expect?” I said.
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“B-ball?”
“Basketball, Dummy.” He gestured an amusing
gesticulation with his mouth. “I‟m ready to kick some butt.”
“You wish, Kid!” I said.
I opened the facility, and went inside with the boy,
who ran across the floor showing off his new dribbling
abilities. He attempted a lay up in the east hoop, while I was
getting ready for our little match. I got me a basketball from
the coach‟s office and began warming up my shot. His ball
was wearer-out by the used he gave it during the last two
months.
“Devin, don‟t use that ball anymore,” I advised him
while I threw him a new one from the office.
“Why you always do that?”
“„Cause it‟s to light; it‟ll mess up your shot.”
He agreed, while he shot the new ball to the target,
“This one is heavy!”
“I know what I‟m talking about Kid,” I
acknowledged. “This is what I do for living, Kid”
“Tony, you‟re a butt-head,” he said.
“Let‟s see who‟s the butt-head after the game is
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over.” I replied.
“Twenty-one?”
“You aren‟t scoring Kid,” I enunciated.
“You wish, Boy,” he shouted back.
“Due or dye?” I said just when I took the shot from
the top of the key. The ball crossed the net making a “zzzzh .
. .” sound; it didn‟t touch the metal. I was in a top physical
condition, so when I told him that he wasn‟t going to score, I
meant it, I was about to show him all his wick points.
The ball was my . . .
Devin put his right hand on my waist, and assumed a
guarding posture. His arms were extended and his knees
were flexed, with the intention to follow my footsteps, as I
taught him to do. Then, I made a quick turn around from my
left to my right, and let him behind. By making a full stop I
confronted the glass broad, and fired a jump shot with my
right hand. The ball went throughout the hole again without
touching the metal.
“This it‟s what I do for living, Kid,” I echoed.
“You‟re lucky,” he said to me.
“You think so?” I asked, while I stood on the
free-throw-line.
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turned his head around, and then said his little phrase,
“Coach, you‟re a butt-head!”
“Maybe, but I let you in zero points, Kid.”
“I bet you‟re telling everyone in school,” he said.
“No, just Eaton Hall.”
“Gee, thanks!”
I was in a great humor throughout the morning,
mainly because I was going to fly home the next day. First, I
was driving to Miami to visit my father‟s sister, and to leave
my car in their house. From there I was going to take an
airplane and fly to the Island. In less than twenty-four hours
I was going to sleep again on my bed.
“You‟re loud today,” Devin made the observation.
“Yeah, I‟m going home, Kid.”
“Where Ms. Alex‟s goin‟?” Pierre asked.
“I think she‟s visiting her Mom,” I said. “Why do
you ask me?”
“I don‟t know! I figured that after the other night you
and her would go some place together.”
“After the other night?”
“Yeah, when everyone in school cheered for you
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and me. Inside the bus there were all kinds of bags, boxes,
briefcases and other ways of carry clothing, books, sport
equipment and other articles. More than fifty different
packages were loaded in the back of the vehicle, which the
residents of the campus were getting home.
Edward Milano and Mrs. Walden‟s secretary came
inside the vehicle and took sometime to give each student
their airplane tickets and other documents. They stood in
front of the bus to call the attention of the young people.
“Everybody listen-up,” Milano addressed the kids.
“When I call your name, you‟ll come forward to get your
tickets. Make sure that your documents are in order.”
“In some of your packages there is a letter for your
parents,” the lady interrupted Milano. “That‟s only for some
of you that still own money to the Academy . . .”
“Mr. Johnson, Coach and some of your teachers are
going to be at the Airport to help you . . .” They began
calling the names on the envelopes.
I was sitting on a front seat, waiting for them to finish
with their duties, and for Mr. Johnson to move the vehicle to
the boys‟ dormitories. The two of them journeyed with us to
the boys‟ dorms, so they could give the same instruction to
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them. Our first stop was Wallace Hall; the boys were
waiting in front of the building. Eaton Hall boys were
waiting in the same fashion, with bags in hands.
After we deposited of the baggage inside the school
bus, I sat in the shotgun seat. The boys entered the vehicle,
and with them Johnny came in too. He sat with me in the
front seat. Outside the dorm waiting for his grandfather was
Devin, he peeked at us inside the transport, and then he ran
to get on the bus.
Devin stood in front of us; he glanced at me as if he
wanted to say something, but he didn‟t speak a word. I was
conversing with Johnny when he came in. I glanced at the
kid, and waited for him to say something.
“What‟s up kid?” I asked.
“Nothin‟, I just want to say goodbye,” he said.
This was the second time, in a way I knew that he
didn‟t want to say those words, but I behaved as if nothing
important was going on. I felt an uncertain feeling, when I
saw that he felt grateful for all my help with his basketball.
Devin stood for a few seconds without articulating a
sound. He smiled with the same bright expression on his
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match the tale, even though it was entirely truth. The thing
about Mr. Johnson was that his actions let not other choice
but to be hate by everyone in school. The teases continued
behind his back throughout the semester, and provably was
part of the school folklore.
“Hey you, shut up,” Johnson shouted to a girl that
was talking loud back in the bus. This was a new experience
for me, a maintenance employee having the same powers as
the teachers to discipline the students. That wasn‟t my idea
of education, but who was going to say something to him or
the people that ran the place? This was an old school; it
founded in 1917, and it is hard to change an old white
elephant.
“God, hate that man!” Johnny said about Mr.
Johnson.
“Don‟t say anything or you are next,” I said to the
boy.
“No, I‟ll never let anyone to howl to me like that.”
“Johnny, it‟s the last day of school, and we‟re going
to the airport . . . You‟re going home to see your parents for
Christmas. It‟s not worsted . . . You understand,” I said
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Chapter VI
1
Witnessing from the sky the small towns on the
island‟s green mountain made me feel that I concluded my
paradox. It was a remarkable sensation of peacefulness and
release to put behind all those unfortunate incidents that
happened in the Academy. It was as if I erased their
memories for the good.
The aircraft was making a big circle in the sky,
turning from one side to another. From the heavens I
scanned the streets of the metropolitan area, and saw the
tower of University of Puerto Rico. The Men‟s Dormitories
building was standing in front of it; I served as a dorm
proctor there in my college years. It brought memories of
younger days mixed, again, with those two words --tower
and dorm-- but this time the white obelisk was far away.
The landing was smooth; the pilot announced the
local time, 11:54 a.m., and the temperature, 84 degrees
--typical winter weather in the Caribbean. When the airplane
touched ground and almost every passenger inside the flying
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passing. It was very hard for her to forget him, they were
married for forty-two years; their love grew stronger with the
passing of time. I didn‟t say more. I opened the gate and
went inside house looking for changes in the living room and
in my room.
Everything was identical, nothing was different,
everything cleaned and in order, it was as home should
always be. It was a comforting sensation to be home, and I
didn‟t want to look back.
In my room I picked from my old dresser a pair of
shorts and got comfortable. It was time to talk about my
experience in the academy, and to ask what was happening
home lately. Mother made lunch in the kitchen while my
sister put a table for three. I sat in the living room and turned
on the TV to see if there was news in the cable channels. It
was as if I never left them, it was as if the last seven months
never happened.
“Tony, come sit on the table,” Mother hailed me
while she put a plate on the dining table.
“Oh right! It‟s being a long time since I‟d have a
plate of rice and beans,” I shouted while I pulled the head
table chair.
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bike on the dunes in front of the blue lagoon, the sand was
warm and desert; it was as if she was waiting for her old
friend. She smiled and greeted her old buddy, the one that
confessed his secrets to her. This beach knew me well; we
were going to have a long conversation, a chat that will clear
my thoughts.
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Chapter VII
1
As I walked from my classroom to the administration
building, I distinguished Dr. Walden in the way. The man
called for my attention at once after he saw me going by. I
stared at him as if I were surprised to see him that sunrise. I
simulated a joyous reaction „cause I was trying to be
friendlier with him this time. It was the first day of the
second semester and I thought that he was going to ask me
about how my Christmas vacation, or maybe do some small
talk.
Dr. Walden drove to work every morning on an old
navy blue bicycle, and dressed up with a gray suit with a
white shirt and a plane red tide. These were typical on him;
many students used to say that the doctor always dressed in
the same clothes. It was as if he were using a uniform for
work.
The man stood by his bike near where I was standing,
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year.
“Don‟t you worry Dr. Walden, this year the boys‟
team is goin‟ to finish its season with a winning record,” I
replied.
“It‟s not the record, Coach. You‟ve to be in control
of those kids at all time. If you kick out one or two boys of
the team, you‟ll show discipline, I assure you. You‟ve to be
meaning with your players, it‟s the only thing they respect,”
he stated.
“Don‟t be concerned! You‟ll that I‟ll be the meanest
coach for those kids,” I couldn‟t help to grin when I said
that.
“Do you understand my point of view?” Mr. Walden
finally asked me. I noticed that his tone softer. “I‟m for your
protection. Today‟s kids are difficult, and the only way you
can deal with them it‟s by being hard, and don‟t let the guard
down. It‟s the only way that they can learn.”
I didn‟t give my opinion; I wasn‟t going to argue
with him so early in the morning; anyhow it was a lost battle.
So, I made a gesture of being in a hurry, while smiled at him.
Walden understood, and then he said, “Have a good
day, Coach.” And he let me go. I headed to the teachers‟
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running with them. The kids were dragging their legs, and
were having problems to walk by the time they left the gym.
In the following Thursday‟s assembly Mr. Hawking
took time to commend the faculty‟s performances in our
second semester‟s first days of school. He thanked all the
teachers for their revival enthusiastic attitude after the pause.
He enunciated that in my seventh period, students were
working their butt off when he came to visit.
We, also, had the chance to meet the new coach;
some girls were talking about him during previous days,
before that no one introduced the man to us. One person said
that he looked like Patrick Sweissey, and in a way he did
resemble the actor, with about twenty extra pounds.
Coach Peters‟s wife began to work for the Academy
as the librarian‟s assistant. I never knew her name, everyone
called her Mrs. Peters, and their baby was the attraction of
the season, especially for Alma Walden. She was eighteen
months old and everyone considers her a pretty all American
girl.
Doctor Walden presented the new coach to the
collective as the new Girls‟ Varsity Basketball and Softball
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Johnny told me few weeks later and by that time it was too
late to punish their crime.
That night Victor Lopes came out of the locker room
wearing his dress shoes without socks, without his tie on and
with his shirt unstuck inside his pans. All these created me
crisis with the administrators. Mr. Woods, who was in the
game as the administration‟s self-proclaimed spy, told
Edward Milano about Victor‟s behavior, and what he
thought about what was going on inside the team‟s locker
room. After this game he continued as the bus driver for the
away games.
Walden called me again to his office the next
morning; this time I didn‟t know why. While I walked from
my classroom to the office I was asking myself, what is the
problem this time?
The doctor discussed again the issue of control; he
used Victor as an example to make the point, for them I
didn‟t have control of my players.
“Coach,” he said. “Victor didn‟t have his socks on
when he came out of the locker room.”
“Yes, so? What‟s wrong with that?” I answered
while I shrank my shoulders.
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secretive tone.
“What‟s up?” I asked him as I pack the equipment.
He waited until everybody was far enough to begin
talking. The only one that remained in the court shooting
hoops was Devin. Devin was usually the last player to leave
the gym. In occasions I took him to his dorm „cause he
could get in troubles with the Martins.
“I need to tell you something, Coach,” Bobby didn‟t
want to start „cause Devin was there too.
“What‟s wrong, Bobby?” I asked.
“Some players are puffing before, and sometime after
the games,” he said. Then, he put his thump and index finger
together against his lips, as if he were holding a cigarette
butt.
“I know that . . .” I said, but he continued. “You don‟t
understand! They aren‟t smoking regulars,” he glanced at me
trying to see my reaction.
“What do you mean?” In a second I flashback to
what happened to me with three of my former players years
ago. I forgot what unpleasant situation it was; everybody
lost. We expelled the players from the team, and I had the
misfortune of telling the parents what I knew about their
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me in.
“Are you eating?” Alex asked him.
“No, I ain‟t hungry.”
“It is money?” I asked.
“No! I aim‟s hungry,” he was annoyed or sad, it was
difficult to tell. It was as if he wanted to talk about it and
that something was stopping him to do so. I thought that it
was the game.
“What‟s wrong, Kid?” I asked while I rested my left
hand on his right shoulder at the same time that I peeked at
Alex. I was telling her that I didn‟t know what was Devin‟s
problem, because I thought that he was about to cry. “Devin,
I‟m you‟re my buddy! You can trust me, man. Tell me
what‟s wrong, and I‟ll try to help you.”
He did control himself, „cause he didn‟t show any tear but
with the same token he didn‟t articulate anything. He just
looked to the empty space in front of us. I took my hand off
his shoulder and continued eating, and Alex acted natural. In
our conversation we tried to entertain him, but he stood up
and told us he was going to buy something to eat.
“I‟m sorry,” the boy apologized as he left us behind.
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two birds with the same bullet. I took care of the practices,
and began to build the team for next year at the same times
that I continued helping Devin, whom Alex began calling,
my blond son! Practices improved after I made this move. I,
also, requested from the school authorities to give us
practices time in the gymnasium by ourselves because until
then the junior varsity trained with us at the same times. This
measure helped with the players‟ short attention span; our
daily routine became more effective in this way. They
concentrated in all the multiple plays that I established for
them.
Our guards were our most important weapons; I was
a fanatic of John Wooden defense philosophy, which I
combined with Bob Fuller views to create powerful zone
press. Except Mount Dora Bibles, the rest of the teams of
the conference weren‟t as good as we in this phenomenon.
The only enigma I was confronting, until that
moment, was that we were winners in our home court, but
we were losers in the away games. So I began to address the
situation to the group. Milano and Dr. Walden were saying
that the reason for losing our away games was that the
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with her breathing. She was about to make two free throws
when she contorted her body looking for more air. Ally was
asthmatic, and when she played for me she had an asthma
attack that scared the hell out of me. So I learned to
recognize her symptoms. I knew that she didn‟t tell Coach
Peters about her conditions, because she didn‟t say anything
to me either. I found out the hard way. I began to worry
about her vitals in that point, so I shouted to Carla, who was
beside her in the lines getting ready to get the rebound. “Ally
is having troubles again . . .”
Carla figured Allison out, and immediately she knew
what was going on. She ran to her bench and explained
Peters the situation. In that minute Allison wasn‟t doing
well, her breathing was agonizing. I was about to move
down to the floor when Bobby ran to help. The referees
stopped the game because the girl was obviously not able to
continue. Peters sent Mr. Woods‟ daughter to substituted
Allison, who began to scream for help. By the time they
took her out of the game she was kicking and shouting, each
time louder and harder. Beverly Hawking dashed to help the
girl and subjected to take her outside the building, so she
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around and walked away from him when I heard him saying
to me; “Fuck you!”
I turned to face him; he boiled my blood with that,
“You aren‟t playing tonight.”
When Ryan heard my verdict, he hustled out of the
building exposing his anger with his coach by slamming the
gym doors against the wall. I stood right where I was, I
didn‟t follow the angry boy going through the exit, and
nobody did. I glanced at the bleacher top seats where the
three overseers were posing. The men stared at me; Woods
smiled with his cynical grimace on his eyes, while Milano‟s
face showed skepticism. The whole world ended as I walked
back to my place where Devin was waiting for me, I took my
place and said nothing about the business with Ryan.
Pierre was sitting on my seat beside Devin when I
returned; they knew that I wasn‟t contented at that point.
Both boys observed me as if they were cautious of my next
reaction. They wanted to do something for their coach, but
he wasn‟t affable enough.
Pierre moved closer to me and chanted, “What‟s up
Coach?”
This boy was a school goof, his parents were
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jack ass of Ryan made a riot because I didn‟t let him go out
of the gym. And those guys over there are watching my
movements to tattle tail Walden tomorrow,” I said while
pointing to the top seats on the bleachers. “The only thing
that we need now is to lose the game, and in our way home
the bus gets broken,” I declared with a bad flavor in my
mouth.
“Who is going to play for Ryan now?” Devin asked.
“I‟ll play for him,” Pierre said with a smile on his
semblance. “Coach, if you let me play, I‟ll Jordan a
three-sixty on the enemy,” he said while he united his hands
together in the air to fake a slam duck on the air.
“Who‟s going to be our manager, Kid?”
“Devin!” he said. “I‟ll use his uniform. . . No, no!” he
stopped, “I don‟t like your number boy; fourteen is a fag‟s
number.”
“You‟re full of shit,” Devin aired while he punched
his friend‟s right shoulder. I didn‟t have other alternative,
but to grin.
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first half.
“I can‟t believe my eyes . . .” I began my speech.
“You know what people are saying about you? That you
can‟t win your away games, which you can only win against
shitting teams, like Pine Castle and Trinity.” I paused to see
their response to what I said, particularly Mr. Johnson‟s face.
It was the first time I saw an approval gesture from the man.
“We need this game bad. You know why? „Cause our record
it‟s five and six. If we win, we‟re going to be with a five
hundred averages before we play Pine Castle and Lake
Highland.”
“Listen,” I shouted. “I checked Green Hills‟ past
year‟s record, and it hasn‟t had a winning record since 1976,
the year that I graduated from my high school. You know
how long ago was that? Shit, fourteen years . . . You have the
change that this year, to break the circle.” I was excited; I
moved my hands like a Latin America Dictator. I pushed
myself then, because I could see in the back of the room how
David Johnson was making gesticulation of agreement with
my elocution. “I know you can do it, guys!”
“Sure we can!” Bobby Hunter shouted showing his
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team spirit.
“I don‟t have to tell you how important is this for me,
and how important is for you. We have to go out there and
show to everyone outside this room that you‟re the best team
that you‟re better in any court or gym.”
“What we have to do now is to press numbers
thirty-four and twelve. These two are killing you on the
boards. I can‟t believe you, Victor,” I pointed to him. “In
your corner, twelve is taking your base line and you‟re
making Mark giving up his fouls.”
The boy glanced at me with as if he was saying I
didn‟t do it with his face expression. “Boy, you aren‟t giving
all you got!” I said to him when he gave me that stupid look.
“You‟re playing half of what you can give me. We need your
help inside the paint.” I said to him.
“Ryan, whatever happened between us before the
game, it‟s over,” I turned to the tall black boy. “You‟ve to
show me that you can play basketball.”
“Coach,” Ryan spoke. “The referees aren‟t calling. .
.”
“So what? They aren‟t calling anything for both
teams. Use that as your advantage and play hard. You‟ve to
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We did not have any other choice but to call 911 for
Jason, he was as stiff as an iron board. His back was injured
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royal blue uniform while they wearied the red and black
costumes. A coach from the opponent fleet approached me
to shake my hand and wished us luck. The referees, the
timekeeper and both teams‟ scorekeeper were ready to begin
the encounter. The two competitors warmed up with rhythm
of the music played by two Wallace Hall residents on a
stereo system that played rock in a resonant manner inside
the gymnasium.
A referee gave both coaches one minute to decide
before the game start. The stage was set; I started Ryan
LeCarre insteps of Jason Campbell. Patrick was set to jump
the basketball in the middle circle on the court. Bobby,
Mark and Victor guarded their men assigned by me in the
last minute gave by the referee.
Patrick won the jump ball but Lake Highland Prep
gain control of the basketball, costing us the first two points
of the match. Bobby put the ball in the offensive court and
asked his teammate to set the offensive pattern that we
practiced the whole week.
Patrick took our first shot of the evening, and he
missed. Lake High Varsity rebounded it and rushed the ball
in a fast break to our defensive court and made their third
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they all put their hands together in the center of the small
room and cheered in a unison voice, “win, win, and win . . . “
The game ended tied in the third quarter. Elliot
substituted Mark who gave his fourth foul. The Cuban boy
attempted to impress his coach, and he did, before this
match, Elliot was an erratic ball handling. However, this
time he made me change my position; he helped me to put
Bobby in a shooting guard position, and added quickness to
team. Lake Highland‟s coaches asked for two timeouts
before the quarter completion; they didn‟t know what to do
with our defense zone press.
When my boys came back to the bench after the final
shot of the third quarter, people in town listened to the
crowd‟s hollers two miles out of the school grounds.
The Prep School began the fourth quarter with a jump
shot from their little point guards. This was the first time the
boy scored over Bobby, who guarded him very tide since the
beginning of the venture. After the little guy burned the net
with his release, Bobby glanced to the bench with an
apologetic expression on his eyes.
Mark Hilltop put the basketball back into the match
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with a pass to our point guard. The boy came dribbling the
basketball across the floor, calling a set play with his left
hand. Our competitors emerged in this part of the encounter
with a man-to-man defense. Their little guard was with his
hands all over Bobby Hunter.
“Double stack . . .” Bobby howled. He was trying to
attune a double low post under the hoop.
“Ryan, you‟re with Victor in the corner,” I shouted to
help Bobby to organize his teammates. The tall boy posted
near Victor Lopes in the left corner of the painted area, while
Mark and Patrick were in the opposite side. Bobby, whom
they heavily guarded, moved to the right and passed the ball
to Patrick.
He received a pick from Mark and caught the pass
out of the zone. The kid bounced the ball once and then
turned on his pivot foot to face the rim, and then he jumped
to release it from his hands over his defending player. The
ball crossed the air as if the time were suspended in that
second. The crowd didn‟t react at all until the ball drilled the
metal ring and the nylon net. Cheerleaders, teachers and
administrators, parents and students blasted from their seats
in a simultaneous jump. It was as if every fellow on the
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number one. . .”
“Call a time out,” I asked Bobby, a thing that he did
immediately after the shot.
The clock ran fifteen seconds in all that drama. I felt
our fans‟ quietness in that point, and the celebration of the
other squad while they ran to their bench.
“Shit, Ryan! Why you didn‟t foul him before he tried
the shot,” Bobby said to him, with killing visages.
“Sorry, Man! I though that I could pack that punk,”
Ryan said with a stupid expression on his face.
Johnny gave me the click board, while Pierre
provided water and towels to the players. Coach McGuire,
who was my assistant that night, informed me about the team
foul situation. Bobby, Ryan, Victor, Mark and Patrick sat on
the bench, while Elliot, Devin, Roger and Eric stood and
watched behind me and listening to my instructions.
“We‟re losing by five at this time, and that‟s bad
right now. But, we can‟t collapse now, we still have time to
win it,” I said shouting at them. “We have to make a quick
play and score now, before the clock loses ten more seconds
. . . If we miss the shot, I want everyone to go for the
rebounds, even you, Bobby. We fight for the ball and make
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the top of the key, and when you see Bobby making his
move, you‟re going to pick his man. No fouls, you
understand? No fouls . . . You‟re going to be available to
receive a pass and to rebound after the shot. But listen to
me, and hear me good. Bobby‟s the one who is going to try
the shot . . . After he tried his shot. You‟re going to press in
a 2-2-1.”
“Coach is late,” one referee came to our bench and
requested us to move on.
A referee gave the ball to Mark on the sideline and he
passed it to Bobby. Lake Highland Prep organized a
man-to-man defense. The basketball crossed the court‟s
middle line (twenty-nine seconds). Bobby passed it to Patrick
(twenty-five seconds). The boy dribbled the basketball and
then returned it to his team captain (twenty-one seconds).
Nobody inside the structure made a sound; it was as if a
funeral were on its way (eighteen seconds). Mark moved out
of his position close the three-point-line on the top of the key
and his guard followed him. Bobby began his roadway to
the hoop by taking his defender near Mark‟s. The Hilltop
boy picked Bobby‟s follower, but his defender switched to
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triumph.”
“Those lambs absorb too much electricity,” Milano
reacted to Alex.
“Are you going to congratulate me?” I asked him
while I smiled. I thought that he was out of line that at least
he should ask Coach McGuire to do the small shore.
He approached and shook my hand, “Congratulation,
Mr. Ferrer. Now we need to turn off the lights,” the man
said. I didn‟t say anything, but I was boiling inside; I let him
muffed the night.
After I closed the gym, I walked Alex to D.O.A.; I
was trying to cool down my anger with Mr. Milano bossy
attitude. I didn‟t understand why he was acting like that. At
one point I thought that maybe he was jealous about the way
the students favor me, or maybe because the basketball team
was doing a lot better than he expected. Then, I recalled
what Devin told me the day played Luther‟s Academy, but
when I thought that it wasn‟t possible. A grown man like
Milano acting like that, there wasn‟t reason for him to be
envious of me.
After I walked Alex to her dormitory I went back to
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to the match that night. While I put the last jersey in the bag,
I raised my eyes up to see where he was sitting on the top of
the white machine. He was observing me, through my mind
the same hunch came, a feeling of knowing him from a long
distance past that I could not pinpoint.
I didn't understand why this boy, who I considered to
be smart and of a good nature, was sent by his parent to a
place like this. This school, which until that moment,
showed me that it was money making machine, empty of
love for its pupils. I felt that he didn‟t need to be there,
because every moment that I spent with him was always
superb. Devin proofed to me that he was one of the best
disciples I ever taught.
So after the short reflection, I asked same bogging
question; “You know Devin. I steels don‟t understand why?”
I said.
“Understand what?” His voice sounded curious.
“I don‟t understand why you‟re here, in this place.”
“I told you before. I don‟t get alone with my
stepmother.”
“Yeah, but don‟t you love her. How old you were
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eyes.
“Remember the night after the Luther game? You
told me that he looks up to me, before that I didn‟t notice
anything and I didn‟t care. Now I‟m trapped . . .”
“Don‟t worry too much, the time will come when
he‟ll open to you,” she said, “but he‟s the one that‟s going to
choose when.”
“You think so?”
“He knows that you care for him, that you have him
under your wins.” Alex smiled the same smile that helps me
to fall in love with her.
I grinned with her, I knew that she was right, Devin
was special for me, and there was not a turn around for that.
“If this ever happened to you?” I was looking for her
approval.
“The last day of my first year I tried to drive home
without saying a good-by to the girls. But, when I drove
between the two little towers near the tennis courts, I turned
around. I was crying when I stepped out of the car. When
you work here you learn to care for the kids and then you
miss them when its time to go,” Alex said while she
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game; he was sick with the flu. However, the real reason that
we lost against this squad began to fold in the first encounter
with Lake Highland Pre, in the beginning of the season.
Victor Lopes antagonistic attitude against Bobby Hunter
came to float in the middle of the game.
His selfishness advanced to its climax; he conducted
like an ass hole criticizing Bobby‟s position as captain of the
team. In Victor‟s head there was only one thing, Victor the
star basketball player that no one passes the ball too, and
Bobby was responsible for that. So in the locker room, after
the game was over, he disclosed what was inside his head.
Bobby was overwhelmed and hurt by what the big
boy said to him while they shower after the match. He took
in consideration Victor‟s size because he didn‟t pick a fight
with Victor that night. Although, he brought his problem to
me the next morning, I was on duty and my thoughts were
divided in many pieces, on Devin‟s incident, the loss against
an inferior team and Victor‟s responsibility in that loss.
While all that was eating my inside, to add more to my
troubles, I wasn‟t feeling well that afternoon.
I was sitting on a chair observing a few Japanese
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“With whom?”
“With that black boy.” Pierre pointed at a Bahamian
boy that was mopping the kitchen floor, and then continued.
“They‟re sitting in the game room, and the boy started to bug
Devin, so he threw a punch to the air when Mrs. Martin
came . . .” He hesitated.
“And?”
“She told Devin that he was going to be suspended
today.”
“What about him?” I asked while I gestured with my
head at the student mopping the kitchen floor.
“He isn‟t suspended. He is just working his hours, he
is always in trouble.”
“You said that he started everything and he‟s not
going to be suspended. Why?” I asked.
“Mrs. Martin likes him,” Pierre declared with a
curious smile on his face. “She doesn‟t like Devin.”
“No! She is not like that,” I exclaimed. Our gossip
ended the moment the line began to move. I picked my trade
with a spoon, a knife and a fork, and slid it through the
aluminum bars in front of the service counter. The ladies on
the other side were asking everyone what they were having
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asked.
“I don‟t think so,” Devin enunciated, he was angry
with Pierre. “I didn‟t start it. It wasn‟t a fight. She didn‟t let
me kick that nigger‟s ass. Mr. Hawking isn‟t going to
suspend me, when I tell him what happened he‟ll hang that
boy.”
“Are you sure about that?” I asked with a
disbelieving expression on my face.
“I‟m sure . . .” Devin said, with his mouth full of
food.
“Tell me what happened,” I pleaded.
“Nothing happened. I was sitting on a chair watching
the Celtic‟s game before Study Hall, and I stood up to buy
Diet coke to drink. When I came back, the ass-hole was
sitting on my place. So I told him to move his ass, when he
tried to kick me. Then I threw him three punches.”
“One, Devin, only one,” Pierre contradicted him.
“I was going to kill the punk . . .”
“Yeah, but you only threw one punch,” Johnny
interrupted.
“OK! That‟s not important,” he shouted at his friend.
“The thing is that I‟m not going to be suspended.”
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me.
Mrs. Hawking, whom until this day I don‟t know
how she finds out about my puzzle, came next to me to ask,
“Are you leaving us?” I responded with a simple; “I‟ll stay!”
For her this was good news.
As I explained to her how I felt about the whole
thing, her husband brought inside the building the two boys
that worked through the whole morning. Devin was already
prepared for the photo section; they showered him. While I
spoke to Beverly Hawking, I observed how Devin lay down
on a bench with a tired gesticulation. He worked his ass up
in the shop for the last three days, and what he did during
those days were duties for man not for a boy. The people
around he didn‟t bother him; it was as if they hypnotized him
in a way that he could not hear a thing surrounding him. It
was then that I began to worry about him.
I stood up from my chairs posed a cross the
basketball court and walked to where he was. While I
marched through the Allison, I greeted some of my players
sitting on the bleachers‟ first line. When I got to where he
was sitting his eyes were closed and laid in a fetus position
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we didn‟t score until the time clock crossed the 6:45 mark.
By the time we tried to put some pressure they were ahead
by eleven points.
Ryan, who didn‟t see action in the first three minutes
of the game, moved to where I was sitting on the bench to
say; “Coach, I‟m ready to play!”
I focused an angry look to him, but I didn‟t say a
thing. It wasn‟t the time to talk to the boy, it was in the
middle of the game, and we were losing.
“Coach, I can play, I‟m ready,” he repeated.
I took a deep breath they scored two more points with
an offensive rebound, and I thought we needed him inside
the boards, we needed his rebounds, So, I ended saying;
“Shit! Ryan, you better play good tonight.”
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to wait until next practice. The only thing I said was that I
needed to address the issue in the coming practice. So, I let
the boys go to their dormitories without any reservations.
16
Mark and Bobby were the first two to leave the room that
night. Patrick, Jason, Jaime, Eric and Ryan in that order
followed them. Devin was getting dress with a glow on his
face, while Pierre and Johnny were picking the uniforms, and
deposited then inside the canvas bag. I sat on a bench and
waited for the boys to leave the small room. I know that I
had a disappointed look on my exterior; I appreciated that if
our team played these people in better conditions we could
beat them.
We were ready to leave the room when Elliot
approached me to ask, “Coach, how did I play tonight?”
I glanced directly into his dark eyes, he surprised me
with the inquiry, it was the first time I noticed a real interest
on his part for the game. “Elliot, you did well,” I answered,
with a total sincerity in my response.
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home that day. Ryan felt guilty and responsible for what
was happening to his best friend, so his only scope from it
was to get high. Pierre told everyone in the school before
what I said to Walden the night. While the Waldens, Mr.
Hawking, Mr. Milano, and the entire dorm parents were
involved in a DC meeting, which occurred the whole
morning in the President‟s office, to decide Elliot‟s future?
I didn‟t eat my breakfast in the Dining Hall; I tried to
avoid any questions from students about what happened after
the match. I felt bad for Elliot. It wasn‟t fair that he was
going to be the one to be punished; I thought if someone was
to be punished, Green Hills‟ Academy President was the best
choice. I spent the day with a harmful pain in my chest, and
dragged my feet to accomplish my duties and
responsibilities. I deliberated through the night hundreds of
time. The why I didn‟t accept Brother Efrain‟s job offer and
why I didn‟t go to go to St. Cloud.
I didn‟t lecture my students on my third period, but I
discussed with them their motivation in this life. I guessed I
did teach, because the topic got their attention. By the fourth
period all the girls were really knowledgeable of what
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for class and for that he was going to get an hour. He, also,
knew that I was in trouble and that I needed someone to
cheer me up after last night episodes.
The whole afternoon was a mess, I didn‟t have the
chance to change and the students were aware of the whole
situation. The worst part was they were asking what
happened n the meetings with Elliot, and I didn‟t know what
happened. It was like being in a roller coaster blind folder.
Knowing how things were going to turn for the poor kid was
impossible. Walden‟s approach was wrong; he and his
servants were using SS interrogation tactics with the
children. They were having meetings with all the students
involved with the basketball team. They were supposedly to
find more information about the incident between Ryan,
Mark and Christina, but I was suspecting that he was trying
to have more information about me, and my coaching
abilities. I knew that to them I was out of the job for the next
year, which was final, they weren‟t going to renew my
contract.
My level headlines weren‟t conformable; there were
anger and indignation, because Walden blamed on me what
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was even a better friend than Devin for Pierre; they were
always into something, especially in matters of girls.
Jason‟s girl was Theresa White. She was as hard head as he
was; they if there were an excuse for fighting these two
invented it. Once they got into one both swore and threw
their rings to each other as if they were playing a contact
sport. The two of them held Green Hills records of
breakouts.
The two boys were coming from the dorm, and they
were horse playing as they always did. When they saw me
standing in near my black car, they ran to where I was.
“Coach, coach . . . “Pierre was excited he looked as if
he wanted to tell me something.
“What‟s up, Kid?” I said.
“Guess who is going to get a smoking violation?” the
boy said like it was a well-known secret.
“Who?”
“Guess, Coach,” Pierre smiled.
“I don‟t know!”
“Devin,” Jason helped with the puzzle.
“Devin?”
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girlfriend, and that he dumped him for one of his best friend
in the school. He was also feeling guilt about Elliot‟s two
weeks in school suspension, and all the work detail he got in
the workshop. The boy was coming to his class with dark
glasses and with much sleepless night attitude. Something
was wrong with him, but no of the teachers wanted to put the
collar to the dog. The boy spent twenty-four hours high on
the claws that surround Green Hills‟ Academy.
In this afternoon Ryan presented to class with an
attitude problem, as if he wanted to fight the world and its
population. He tried to pick on Mark. However, he ignored
him since the beginning, then Bobby, whom he laughed and
went away from his side, too finally picked on for a
confrontation Victor. They began to push each other in a
line that I established for the drill that we were doing.
Victor didn‟t want to fight Ryan; he was trying to show his
best behavior because he wanted to come back to the varsity.
Still, Ryan was aggravating his patience and my. By the
time Victor pushed him back, I screamed to them to stop and
with the same motion I commanded them to go to the
coaches‟ office.
Bobby and Mark followed us to the little room beside
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was going to explode from the earth. The two boys observed
me while took a basketball and kicked up to the bleachers.
“Tony,” Devin called my name, “Are you OK?”
I put my head down, and said to him; “I guess I am.”
“Can I help?” he said.
“Why should I let you help me? You don‟t let me
help you,” I asked back to him, and then I left the building.
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was a brad spoiled by the money that his mother pored into
the school banks. He tried to show everyone that he was
something else that he was the tough boy of the gang, when
in reality he was the most caring of all them.
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. You think that you can stop to use that crack, but you don‟t
show me any other thing, but to believe that you aren‟t
addictive. You‟re going to die young, boy. What‟s going to
happen to your athletics abilities in four more years? You
aren‟t going to be able to do single lay-up if you keep on
trying your marijuana and your cocaine. You‟re going to
die, and your body is going to be meat for the warms . . . “I
said.
“I can stop anytime I want to,” he shouted.
“Yeah and why you‟re so high all the time?”
“ . . . „cause I want too,” he said. “You don‟t know
how hard is to be in this place.”
“But you just told me that you don‟t want to be
kicked out of this wonderful school,” I told him
“I don‟t want to go home,” he blared out a painful
cry. “I don‟t want to go home, Coach. I don‟t have anyone
there for me . . . “Ryan paused and began to sob his tears in.
The boy felt on the basketball floor discomforted and
crying, he was lost. He needed someone to hold, and care
for him. I put my arms around him and said, “It‟s all right,
and it‟s all right . . . “
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me. Teachers give more when you know that their students
are giving them a 100 per cent all time.
My first class with them went very well, they ran two
miles and then they did some reps on the track. I did all the
drills and the running with the girls, and when the period was
over I was as tired as mule. I thought that I was going to rest
in my study hall time because I didn‟t have anyone coming
in that hour.
However, Johnny Bovies came to visit me that
afternoon. The boy was dress up in his PE shorts and t-shirt,
he was moving his body as if he needed someone to speak
too; that someone was going to be me. I thought that he
might want to chat with me about the school pressure and his
grades, but sometime telling what was in his mind was
laborious.
I knew that Johnny trusted me, but I wasn‟t ready for
what he was about to tell me. He sat on a chair in front of
my desk and look to me as if he were about to grieve. I
observed his body language, and I felt that he was about to
explode. The steam accumulated on his head was in a
burning point.
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drink like Gorge, but, he was nasty . . . “the boy stopped and
glanced at my face, as if he knew that he was about to choke
me with his tale.
“What was wrong with him, Johnny?” I asked.
“During the night he used to come to my bed,
Coach,” he said with his typical monotone way of speaking.
“What do you mean, Johnny?” I asked.
“He raped me the first night, and then he continued
coming to my bed until they split . . . “he finished remarks.
There weren‟t tears or angry expression when he told this
repulsive story. Johnny was totally calm.
“Jesus Christ . . . “I said loud. “What you just said?
Did your mother know about it?”
“She didn‟t know until I began going to the treatment
center. That‟s when the truth came out. My therapist is
from your country you know, he is a great guy I like him like
I do you . . . “
“How can you say a thing like that, like it doesn‟t
bother you?” I asked him, while I stood up from my desk
and went to sit close to him.
“My therapist told me to be honest, and accept the
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truth. It‟s the only thing that will realize the pain for us,” he
answered as if he were an old man.
“That‟s why you were using drugs . . . “
“That‟s why I have this scare in my arm,” he said. “I
was so angry with myself and Mom that I wasn‟t able to see
that it wasn‟t her fault or it was that man‟s. She didn‟t know
that he was doing that to me. But now my Dad wants me to
come to live with him, something that I don‟t want to do. I
want to live with my Mom and my sister, I think they need
me now . . . “
I think that I let go a tear because he stopped. I was
really uncomfortable with his tale. Understanding why
people do things like that to a child was hard. Johnny was
only thirteen when his came to Green Hills, and according to
what he told me that afternoon he probably was nine when
all this transpired. I moved close to him and gave him a hug,
and then I said; “Johnny, I don‟t want to know more about
this. I think that there are things that people should not talk
about it . . . Tell your father that he an ass hole if he thinks
that you‟re going be comfortable in a place that you don‟t
want to be. It‟s as simple as that . . . Kid fight . . . Don‟t let
people push you around any more . . . “We both stood up
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fifteen points, and add the combine scores of the four players
that didn‟t go to our first game with them.
I knew that this wasn‟t going to be an easy task after
all. The problems that we had preview to this game were
enough to destroy any other team capacity to play.
I worked hard the whole week, my classes were in
order, and the students were happy with how I was
conducting them. Since the second semester started the
students had compared me with Coach Peters‟s ways to
handle his groups, and according to them I was winning by a
mile. In a way this gave satisfaction, it made me feel that I
was a better teacher than he.
I always knew that I was a good basketball coach, but
when I began working in Green Hills‟ doubts were created in
my mind. The lack of support had mined my confidence of
the people in charge of the school gave I during the crises I
confronted in the first semester. They made teachers felt as
if they were the bad educators, when the reality was that
many students were problems in other school and even in
their homes.
Our team‟s record was twelve and twelve at to this
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point, before the game with the Air Academy. I used to help
the kids concentrate in the importance of the match. If we
were about to come, victorious, Green Hills‟ varsity was
going to have the first winning record since Mr. Carson
coached the team seventeen years ago. That made the
players excited to try to do the impossible.
22
Florida Air‟s players came one by one out of the school bus,
as if they were in a line to get food from a cook out a picnic.
Their record was nineteen and three before the put foot on
our school gym. They were dress in blue military uniforms
with the different hats, white gloves and navy blue bands on
their shoulders. The two boys that served as their point
guards were first in coming out of the muster yellow vehicle,
and then other players less important came of the door.
“Maybe they let him home,” Bobby said to Mark
who was shooting hoops in the west side of the gym.
Charleston came out last, as the team‟s star should be
it did. It was as he was waiting to sign some autograph for
some of his fan. The black boy wore the navy blue habit like
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their play.
The tall boy maneuvered his corpulent body between
my boys to find out that he was between two of my players
at all time.
The guard passed the ball throughout the air, and
Ryan robbed the coming pass. Without any trouble put the
object in Jason Campbell hands, which passed it to Bobby,
who lay up the one of the most beautiful shot I have ever see
in my life.
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knew that we were going to win the game that nothing was
going to stop Green Hills‟ Boys Varsity to have their first
winning record in seventeen years. The game resumed, our
spirits were so high that we came to increase our lead up to
twenty points.
I decided to put my receiver players with two minutes
remaining of the game and with a good lead over the Air
Academy team. Devin, Roger, and Eric were going to see
some battle that night. We achieved the goal, our team
turned around fifty-two points defeat to a twenty points lead
over the team that everyone fears in our conference, and we
ended our regular season with a 13-12 record.
However, the most interesting part of the match
turned out to be the final two minutes. Devin, Roger and
Eric --the three players that I brought from the Junior
Varsity-- were on the court with Elliot and Bobby. Roger,
who was a well developed, took forward position with Eric,
while Elliot and Bobby jointed forces to play the point guard
positions. Devin, who didn‟t have any player assigned to
him by the opponent Coach, began to shoot three points with
an accurate rate of a 100 percent. He ran the court to our
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Chapter VIII
1
There were times that I detested to go asleep, my
recurring dream got dark and nasty at time, and I didn‟t want
to confront it in occasions. I do not like to be in conditions
where I cannot have control. I hated to see the poor child get
drawn by the turbulent water of that unknown coast. It was
as if the young man meant a lot to me, and to lose him in that
manner wasn‟t something that I did want to relive in every
night. Somehow I felt that he was running from me, as if I
frightened him.
I didn‟t pinpoint why this bad dream was a
companion for such a long time. It came to me one night
when I was around seven years old and since then it has not
stops. At first I could only see the horses running in a bright
day, it was a heavenly vision. However, as I grew up
everything turned to be dark and creepy.
Alex understood what I was telling her about my
reoccurring dream; she herself had one of those. Hers was
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their parents don‟t help much; they take Devin for example.
I don‟t know a nicer boy in this school, but the relationship
between his Dad and him had screwed his life. It‟s like if he
doesn‟t feel love from his parents, and he wants them to
show that they care for him.” I concluded my argument.
She was observing my face with much interest, and
then asked me, “Do you miss your Dad?”
I didn‟t answer the question at first. I didn‟t know
why she changed the matter so abruptly. Nevertheless, then I
reviewed my relationship with my own father, and what I
said was, “My Dad was a great man. However, I only came
to know him in his last years. Of my youth I only recall him
behind a newspaper when he wasn‟t drinking. Then, I didn‟t
have a relationship with him. Still, in his later years he
found help in AA, and I grew up and began to understand
him more.” I paused for a second, and put it in words, “Yes,
I miss my Dad, he was a noble man.” As I said these words,
I felt a tear rolling down on my face.
“I love you, Tony,” she said to me while she put her
lips my chic.
“I am sorry! It‟s that every time I think on him I
remember my mother, and the way they loved each other.
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around his chest and cracked his back by pulling both limbs
--it sounded like bones cracking.
When the pre game warms up was over, I called my
players to the center of the room to make a circle and put our
hands together. “Well kids,” I began my pet talk, “it‟s being
fun, if we don‟t pass this round, want to tell you that I‟m
proud of each of you . . . “
“Coach,” Ryan interrupted my line of thoughts, “I
want to say something to you and the team. May I?”
“Go ahead.”
“Guys, you know that I haven‟t been a good friend
lately,” Ryan vocalized, his eyes were looking around to
everyone in the circle. “I want to say that I‟m sorry about
what happened between us, it was all my fall. And, I hope
you can forgive me that and the others.”
No one said anything after that; we all thought that it
was a rear confession coming from him. “OK, Lets go out
there and kick some ass,” I shouted.
“Win, win, and win . . . “they all shouted in a united
voice.
They ran out to the court one behind the other, and
circle the basketball court. They looked shark and were on
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blinked an eye. His nose and eyes were in a light red tone,
like the time he was sitting on top of the washing machine
under our gymnasium‟s bleachers. I smelled problems as I
maneuvered between the chairs and the tables of the small
establishment to get where he was sitting. I postured near
him with a very natural move, and asked he, “Are you OK?”
He made an affirmative gesture with his head, but he
didn‟t say a word. Something wasn‟t right; his face was
unsettled, like if he had been crying hard. He didn‟t want to
look at me; his eyes were evasive.
Seeing him like this disturbed me deeply, I wanted to
know what was going on with him, so I could not help to tell
him, “Don‟t do this to me Devin, something is wrong and I
want to know what. You know that I care for you. We are
friends. Tell me what is bothering you, I can help you, you
know that.”
The kid stirred his head, and then he covered his face
with hand. He shook his head again if a negative gesture,
but nothing came out of his mouth.
“Kid, are you OK?” I asked anew.
Devin stood up from the table and walked away from
me, to my surprise. Until that moment I thought that there
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was a good trust between the two of us. Yet this time I saw
him displacing to another booth away from me, in the far
corner of the restaurant.
“Well that‟s fine with me,” I said a loud; maybe I
wanted him to hear me. I was hurt with his behavior; I
thought that after all I did for him this wasn‟t way to pay me.
When we returned to Green Hills late that Saturday, I
made a stop in DOA to give the news to Alex, and to tell her
about the boys‟ reactions. I was puzzled with Devin‟s
responded to whatever was that was happening with him. It
was as if the boy were becoming more important than the
game that we just lost against the Trinity Prep. School. I
needed to know the why, and just when I wanted to kill the
little bastard too.
Alex was waiting for me I told that after the game I
was going to come by the dorm to talk before we go to bed
that night. She was in her boxer shorts and the loose T-shirt
that she took from my apartment when she spent the night
with me. She was ready to go to bed, but she waited
patiently for me.
The lights inside the building were all out, I glanced
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“Devin!”
“What came with your blond son?” she said.
“You see, you keep on saying that,” I told her. “And
that is not how I feel about him.”
“So, why you are so upset?”
“I don‟t know,” I sounded baffled. I didn‟t know
why but she was right, why I was so upset with kid. There
wasn‟t a good reason to disturb.
“What happened?” she asked me, while she put her
around my jaw.
“He was sitting back in the fast food dining area, it
looked that something was bothering, so I went to see what
happened. Alex, he was crying too.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I don‟t know, he didn‟t say a thing,” I said. “He
closed his communication channels to me, like if didn‟t trust
me any more.”
“That‟s why you are hurt.”
“No!”
“No! Then tell me why?” she vocalized, “The only
reason is that you care for that kid than any other in the
school. You are worry about him.” Alex was aware that I
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contract, Alex.”
“I don‟t see why not,” she said.
“Why you said that,” I was looking for some sign,
she was almost a daughter for the Waldens, and I thought
that she might know something that I didn‟t know.
“They don‟t do things like that. They like stability
with their teachers.”
“That might be true, but I have had to many problems
with the kids, and provably they would ask me back, we‟ll
see,” I was heavy-hearted that night. “I don‟t want to face
that, Alex. I don‟t want to face the prospect of missing him.”
“You should not worry about that now I bet you that
everything is going to be fine, Devin will be backed next
year and you too. I guess I‟ll be back for another year to be
with you.”
“I love you, Alex,” I said.
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even didn‟t say a hello to me, I felt that he was avoiding me.
He was still working hours from his previous smoking
volition, and he took as a task to take all the hours of at once.
Pierre told me that Devin‟s Dad sent him a plain ticket few
days ago, and the only chance he had to use them was to get
out of the discipline board before the date the tag was set.
The kid‟s appearance in those days didn‟t gaze that
favorable to me, he was walking as if he didn‟t have much
sleep, and as if he was mad about something. I thought that
he was mad about me, but I didn‟t know why. I wasn‟t
taking the silent treatments that well, at one point I wanted to
smash his head over the wall but it didn‟t do it. I was busy
with the track team that Mr. Milano didn‟t want to do.
Because he had a problem relating with the girls in sport, at
least that what everyone was saying?
I found Devin one afternoon I went to Mr. Hawking‟
office, I wanted more disciplinary action sheet for my
classes. I really didn‟t want over to hear the conversation but
I was there and the door was opened. Devin was arguing
with the man, as I never saw him before. Until that moment
I thought that the mellow disposition was all there was in
that boy, but this time he was really angry.
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do you want?”
“How many hours you need to work before the week
you supposed to go home?” I requested the facts from him.
“Why?” he asked with a distrusted expression
between his eyes.
“Cause I can help you,” I said.
“You‟re going to help me again,” the boy whipped
his sweat drops from his upper lips.
“Yeah, why you asked that, kid. Are we friends?”
Devin made a short pause; his response was
screaming that he didn‟t want my help in this matter or
maybe anymore. Still, he was more afraid of his that than of
his pride, so he ended saying, “What can I do for you?”
“Whatever!” I said. “It‟s up to you if you want to
help me or not. You can help me to sweep the gym floor, or
correct some paper for me.”
“That‟s fine I can do that,” he said, and then
continued, “I need twenty hours before the first Friday of
April.”
“OK! When can you start?”
“Tonight, if you want,” he responded
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Devin came to the gym with his two best bodies in school,
Pierre and Jason. I was in the coaches‟ office waiting for
him the show; one thing he had that was really good was that
he was punctual. He came through the door and immediately
asked me, “What is what you want me to clean.”
I glanced at him, I was a little irritated with his
attitude, and I was more interested to know what was going
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with passion.
Several girls‟ volleyball team players came to the
tryout for the track team, including Christina who currently
was Mark Hilltop Girlfriend. She was one of the few girls
that played all the sports that academy offered for the girls.
It was the last period of the school day; the bell was
close to ring the closure of the segment. My plan for that
class was to make the students run around the track field and
to oblige them to do some fifty meters‟ repetitions.
Christina wasn‟t a runner; she was a shot-putter, so
that afternoon she threw that heavy instrument about twenty
times. She loved to do this cause Mark, her boyfriend, was
in the same event for the boys‟ team. This gave them the
opportunity to be together most the time while they were
training.
In the afternoon that followed I had the frustrating
conversation with Devin, Christina came crying to the
gymnasium, something happened between Mark and her that
generated in her a strong reaction. I was sitting on the
stances waiting for the bell to finish the period, and she came
and sat near me. I found it difficult to believe that she was
crying I thought that she was a strong person. She wasn‟t
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the type of girl that will make tears come out for any stupid
reason.
I watched her blurt her tears as if her world were to end, I
felt sorry for her so, I asked her, “What going on with you,
girl?”
“Coach, I can keep this secret any more I have to tell
someone,” she said while weep her words. “Mark doesn‟t
understand why I‟m like this.”
“Like what?” I asked her. I was to admit that I was
curious about the confession. I felt like a pry.
“Three men when I was thirteen years old raped me,”
she shouted. “I can‟t tell him, „cause he is going to reject
me, and I love him so much, I don‟t want to lose him.”
I could not believe what I heard; I didn‟t understand
why these kids were telling me, and not someone else, they
were betraying their most intimate truth. I wasn‟t rose like
this. I could not put in words my thoughts, as they were
doing. Devin, Johnny, and now this girl were opening to me.
I didn‟t want to know about theirs cause this will put me in
the spot to open my heart to them, and I wasn‟t prepared to
do so with anyone.
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without reveling her past. She was really in love with him.
I put my arms around her and let her put her head on
my shoulder, and then I said something that I didn‟t believe,
“You should be honest with him, and tells he. I think that
Mark is a good kid, and he will value more your honesty
than your evasions to this matter. Don‟t be afraid to tell
him if he loves you for real he will not let you go.”
Why that is from time to time us human beings‟ give
advises that we do not follow? It is a mystery for me,
because I went to my apartment to think about what she told
me. Being that honest with someone wasn‟t possible for me,
no evens my mother or my sister who before I came to Green
Hills‟ was to two most trusted people I had in this world.
I took off my sweaty clothes, and postured on the
light blue sofa in my living room. I looked around my
apartment and then told myself, “I can believe that she said
that to me.” I was talking to myself, as my grandma used to
do. It was in the Family to talk a loud our thoughts but not
to tell them to anyone. This characteristic sometime I
alarmed me; I reflected that I was going to end like my
grandma in a home for old people, insane.
On the door a timid knock announced that there was
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mother trusted him with her life in those days. I think that he
was from Cuba, but I‟m not sure off that, he was Hispanic.
“One evening I was watching TV. He came to the
back room, and began touching me all over, he made me take
my clothes off and . . .” she hesitated to continue. Alex was
breathing hard, but there weren‟t tears or cries; there was an
embarrassment expression on her face. “He kept on doing
that to me until his Family move up north.”
I didn‟t say anything, I was feeling proud of her, and
embarrass for not being able to reciprocate her courage of
telling the truth. Alex never told this to anyone; it was her
dark secret.
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“I can do that.”
“Are you sure that your hand is going to let you?”
He said yes, and they asked me if I were going run
too. One of my traits as a coach of the girls‟ team was that I
did the stretching exercises and the running routines with
them. So the first thing we did was to run two miles before
we did the other track routines. Devin ran beside me every
time we did these two miles, we let the girls go ahead and we
just talk the whole trajectory. It was as if he wanted to catch
on for the two weeks that we didn‟t see each other.
I felt that the kid was losing some of his aerobic
capacity, because he could not keep up with my running.
Inside me, I knew that he was smoking a lot, because he was
really wicked for a boy that just finished training for
basketball. We usually ran two miles around the school
campus, beginning with the in front of the gymnasium and
going behind the boys‟ dormitories, who where in the other
extreme to the school. Our track consisted of white sand,
asphalt pediment, and green grass, all over small hills and
prolonged plain trails, making the spoor a good surface for a
training cross-country team.
The girls were in front all the time, while Devin and I
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ran after them to see if they were going too quick the rout or
not. We ran behind the grassy field of Wallace Hall and
Eaton, the two boys‟ dormitories, and then we jumped into
an asphalt road out of the campus and behind the Fine Art
Center. The road used to take us around the school campus,
between the teachers‟ apartments and the classrooms all the
way to where the track was. The task was to be done twists
before the beginning of each track practice. It was close to
two miles run.
Devin and I didn‟t talk much during those first days
of his transfer to my class, but he kept my pace when we
were jogging with the girls, never stop or gave up. He was
in a good condition despise of his smoking habit. He never
stopped smoking inside the dorm regales of his two previous
violations of the school code in that matter.
I knew that his habit was an addiction to the nicotine,
but I never said anything to make him stop. I was concern
about what the cigarette and the chewing tobacco were going
to do to his health, but I thought that it wasn‟t my place to
tell him to stop. For a student to be able to smoke in campus
he needed to have his parents consent, and he dad didn‟t
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didn‟t see why he was acting like that. I knew that I put my
foot in my mouth, but I could not pinpoint what was the
main reason. I thought that what I said to him came out
honest.
The school week was over. I went home thinking of
what I told him, and what he told to me. It was a puzzle. I
felt that I needed to know why he was acting as if he were
disappointed of me. In a way I felt bad that he perceived that
I let him down, so that Friday night I went to his dormitory
room after dinner was over. I told Alex at dinner that I was
going to talk with Devin that night, and I asked her to wait
for me after the lights were out in her dormitory I wanted to
talk to her too.
I came to his room in two occasions before this one, the day
that Mrs. Martin showed me Eaton Hall, and the night that I
told him that he was going to be in the Varsity. I didn‟t
suspect that this time it was going to be an eye opener for
me.
Devin was sitting on the floor with Pierre. They were
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sepulcher,” he said.
“You don‟t mean that, Devin.”
“Yeah, I do!” he said.
“Why are you so mad with me?” I asked him, “I
thought that we were friends.”
“You don‟t trust me, and I‟m tired of not to be trust
by anyone.” He paused and moved his face to the right in a
misery gesture, and then he continued with his sentence,
“Not even my Dad does that . . .”
“I do,” I said to him.
“Yeah . . . aha!”
It took me a minute to gun myself with courage to
begin talking again, “No one knows this. No even my
mother, not even my sister, who is two of the persons that I
love the most in this world . . .” I looked at him to see if he
were ready to hear me, he was sitting on the floor, and his
eyes were on me. “You know, Devin, since I came to this
school I have become the hearing of some students. They
just come to me and tell me their experience as if I really
want too now about them. First, Johnny, with his fast
monologue, and then Christina, she even cried on my
shoulder. You know what they told to me, Kid . . . That
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Chapter IX
1
Alex hanged around in hers dorms‟ lobby waiting for
me the night before the Spring Break began. She was going
to verify with me her arrangement for the next day. We were
to take an airplane at the Orlando International the next
morning. So she wanted to be ready with a departure plan in
our parts. She coordinated with Alma Walden so we didn‟t
have to help the students at the airport. Still, I was supposed
to help a school‟s drivers with the pupils inside a bus, while
Alex was going to drive my car and meet me at the
American Airline‟s ticket counter.
The dorm residents fill out the dormitory‟s foyer with
all kinds of bags and suitcases. They were to have them
ready so the process of shipping a hundred of them to their
respective homes and countries wouldn‟t dilate.
I walked between the obstacles to meet her in the
center of the small room. Everyone was asleep but us; we
were ready to hit the road that evening. We kissed and sat
on a heavy valise. Alex just stared at me with the desire that
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paper work that I had pending to grade for the next days after
the break. As I was doing that I received a visit from Alex
in my classroom, she wanted to take pictures of me. She had
her camera ready for the trip, so we could have some
memories of our excursion to the Caribbean Islands.
“You know Alex I will like to have a picture with
Devin.” I told her.
“That‟s a good idea,” she said. “Why don‟t you call
him?”
“Call him?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I think that no one is going to
mind if you call him. Do you know where he is?”
“He is with Coach Monroe.”
“He wouldn‟t care?”
Devin came few minutes later, we waited for him in
from of the new school library building, and it was in the
way to my classroom. We were to take the picture in front of
the white arches of the structure. It was a beautiful morning
to take images, the grass was green and the sky was simple
blue. The heaven didn‟t have any dark claws.
As Alex was getting ready to take the picture, Devin
and I stood shoulder to shoulder with the library as our
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whole way.
By the time we got near the last toll plaza on the
Beeline the boy said something that reflected his stage of
mind. “Freedom!” he pronounced between his teeth. The
word wasn‟t for me, or anyone inside the yellow vehicle.
His thoughts were for him something was worrying him but I
didn‟t know what and I didn‟t want to ask. As I looked at
him, I saw the same vulnerable emotion on his face as when
he came to see me the afternoon of the Trinity game. I didn‟t
absence to repeat that unfortunate episode. I wasn‟t strong
enough to echo it again.
I lost his site the terminal, but I was worry that Alex
was going to be late to catch the plane. Devin wasn‟t where
to be found, so I thought that he was already on his gate
waiting to board his airbus.
Alex showed up in time for us to take the car to its
parking, gave our bags to the America Air Line people, and
run to our assigned entrance. As we run to the station, I
caught a glance of a group of kids from Green Hills.
Amanda, her sister Christina, Mark and Roger were standing
in front of the restroom smoking their cigarette, and between
them Devin was smoking too.
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didn‟t tell anyone about us. Our plans were to finish the
school year, and then reveal our status to the school officials.
Alex was going to stop working in the dormitory and I was
to keep on working as the school‟s physical education
teacher for another year.
I dropped Alex on the dormitory‟s doors and kept on
acting as if nothing happened. I was the most joyful man on
the planet, and I knew that Alex was as blissful as I was.
I went to the Dining Hall to eat dinner, after I
unpacked all my bags from the trip. I tried to act normal but
I thought that everyone knew about us; it was an uncertain
feeling of telling other people your secrets with your body
language. I gathered in a table with a group of dorm-parents,
and I felt as if they knew the news. I attempted to do small
talk with them for about fifteen minutes when I saw Devin
coming through the doors.
Devin crossed the room to come and sat with us in
the same table. He didn‟t pick up a trail to eat with us; he just
rested on the chair and contemplated me. I felt guilty in that
moment because after almost ten days in the island this was
the first time I ever thought on him.
“Hi, Kid,” I saluted him.
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He just grinned and then I felt it, the boy loved me;
this was the first time I ever feel this emotion coming from
him. No other student in the school would dare to sit with
the house parents during dinner. Devin was doing this just
because I was there with them. It was then that I knew that
something happened or it was about to happen.
I stop eating and asked he, “Are you OK?”
The boy acknowledged with single movement of his
head that I didn‟t know how to take it.
We went outside to talk. Devin was very happy to
see me; it was as if he were relived in a way. “I had a good
time in San Juan,” I said.
“Me too,” Devin responded. “I played basketball with
my brother and I beat him; I let him in zero.”
“That is good!”
“Did you play with your Dad?” I asked.
“No! I only saw him once. He went to London for
business.”
“Are you OK?”
“I guess I am,” he answered with sourer tone. “He
told me that I have to come back here next year.”
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the school year I slapped a girl. That Ryan and Brandy had
an altercation in my classroom, or that I almost fought with
Ryan inside the coaches‟ office. I only remembered that my
classes were excited for my pupils. That all my teams did
better than the presiding year, and I put around eighteen
hours every day to make that happened.
As I sat on my couch and thought about what,
Walden told me in his office. I didn‟t understand why they
didn‟t give me another chance. I worked hard in the last
days after the basketball season was over. I was really
frustrated with the school. I didn‟t care anymore so in that
moment I told myself that I wasn‟t going to give anything
else to it.
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teams and your classes? You are a hard worker,” she was
upset and confused with the situation. I always suspected
that Alex didn‟t really know the Doctor. When for me the
man was a mean spirit guy she saw him as loving father and
husband. She could not recognize that Mrs. Walden was as
manipulative as Mr. Walden.
Alex cared a great deal for Alma Walden. In
moments of adverse fortune Mr. Walden came true. When
her Alex‟s sister died, they drove her to Ft Lauderdale and
were her Family during those bad moments. Mrs. Walden
was like a second mother for her.
However, I could not see that, for me she was an old
witch that manipulated Alex to serve her at all moments.
She was the Demoiselle of the Feudal Kingdom, and
everyone was supposed to serve her. In a way I thought that
the best thing that happened to me was to get out of that
place. I wanted to take Alex with me to break the
dependency cycle for those people.
“Now, what are we going to do?” I asked her.
“We can postpone the wedding until you get another
position,” she answered.
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only thing that the student body knew. They also knew that I
wasn‟t coming back next year. The questions were multiples
form Alex and me. Some girls thought that it was very
romantic to get marrying for love and not for money. Other
members of the faculty believed that we weren‟t going to last
six months. My players thought that we were braved
because we were taking a step like that without me having a
secure job for next basketball season.
Still, we didn‟t care, the days passed and we got use
to the idea of getting marry. The end of the school year was
close and we were preparing for that event. We began to
plan for our wedding just when the school was preparing to
say goodbye to their senior students. The month of May
was an uninterrupted period of activities. There was one
after and other one. It was as if Green Hills wanted to keep
their students busy all the time.
It was in this period that many of them were
dismissed from the academy. The reasons for the dismissals
were various: smoking in the rooms, escaping from the
dormitories, students fighting, drugs, etc. . . . There wasn‟t a
particular indication for a dismissal, it could occur to a good
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were expecting seen the man offered it the night of the game.
In the invitation there was little note asking me to
write a list of all the components of the basketball team. I
responded the note by including everyone, even the two
managers that helped with the water and the uniforms. I
thought that we were going to give the opportunity to all
team members to have a great night.
During the afternoon classes in the days that
preceded the dinner I heard everyone talking about the juicy
steaks. Some former players had neared to ask me to include
them in the team roster again after they left it in the
beginning of the season. My answer to those poor sports
was that they didn‟t desert it.
I invited all my players from Bobby to Jaime, who
saw lest action on the court than anyone in the team. We
didn‟t invite Victor and Elliot turned dawn the invitation. He
decided not to go to the activity after what happened
between him and Walden the night of the Luther game. My
scorekeeper, my two managers and the assistant coach were
all welcomed to the fuss.
Alex worked with Mrs. Walden to prepare the
activity; they went to the market to buy the meat for the
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Jason, Pierre and Rogers Company, and that one of them was
getting into their senses to stop them.
Mr. Milano was about to leave after my abrupt
statement, so I grip him by his arm and asked, “Mr. Milano, I
need to know something.”
“Yes,” he was curious.
“How long you had being working here?”
Alex didn‟t know why I was asking such question so
here eyes opened. I guessed she thought that I was going to
say something rough to him.
“Twenty years, Coach.” He was proud of that
accomplishment. “I began as an English and math teacher . .
.”
While he gave us a brief history of his life, my eyes
were moving from his mouth to where the kids were. Jason
pulled Johnny from the ground while Roger and Pierre
dragged Devin, it was over.
“ . . . I even taught algebra to Ms. Alex . . .” he said.
Alex accompanied me to my apartment after Mr.
Milano shut up telling us his experience in the Academy. As
we walked behind her dormitory she asked me, “Why that
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those two boys fought after the steak dinner. I thought that
they were friends, everything since to be fine with them.
However, knowing Johnny, distinguishing who were his
friends was hard. The only thing that was sure about him was
that he was a time bump ready to explode.
The next morning I called Devin to my classroom, he
was in his study hall, and Coach Peters let him come to me.
He didn‟t have any idea why I was calling him. He thought
that I was going to talk about stuff.
“Hey Coach! What‟s up?” he said when he open the
door and walked inside the room with his usual sneer.
“Hello Devin.”
“Oh, oh!” Devin said while he sat on a chair in the
first row. “What‟s wrong?”
“I saw what happened last night after dinner,” I told
him. “I think that I was the only person that saw it. Don‟t
worry I‟m not saying anything.”
“OK,” he said with a question mark on his face. “So,
why I‟m here?”
“You don‟t know?”
“No!”
“Devin, don‟t you see what is going on around you.
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They are shipping people out of the school for nothing and
you take a risk like that.”
“He started everything,” he said. “The boy thinks that
his shit doesn‟t stink. So I punched him on the nose.”
“What did he say to you?” I asked.
He made a grin with his mouth, as if he didn‟t want
to answer the question. I crossed my arms while I stood in
front of him. “OK, I „ll. tell you, but it a little
embarrassing,” he finally said. “He told me that I suck in
basketball, and that you haven‟t taught me anything. That I
was your boy.”
“He said that?” Devin surprised me with the fib.
“Yeah! I don‟t like that so I punched him good.”
“I‟m sorry Devin,” I said. “I don‟t know what to
say.”
“Don‟t say anything. I don‟t care,” he said. “You are
the best friend I have ever had, and I don‟t care if people
talk. They don‟t know me and they don‟t know you.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Why are you sad now?”
“I just don‟t what people to get the wrong
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All the sports activities were over for the rest of the
school year. The only thing that we were to do was to decide
who was going to receive the Scholar-Athlete of the Year
award and the individual awards in every sport. These were
the MVP, the Most Improve Athlete, and the Best Behave
Athlete in each sport.
For my part I didn‟t have a problem in choosing any
of my players. Bobby was my MVP, Mark was the Best
Behave Athlete, and the most improve when to Jason
Campbell. I picked all awards for all female athletes without
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“Well Sir, Allison has won all the major awards, and
Cheryl has been under her shadow all this year . . .”
“You‟re going to give her an award because feel pity
for her,” I said.
“No, she is the co-captain of the team, she has much
assistance, and she always came through went we needed
her.”
“Who are your rebounds and assistance leaders?” Mr.
Milano asked him.
“Well Allison is the rebounds‟ department and
another girl is in assists.”
“What department Cheryl won?” I asked.
“None!”
“I can‟t believe that you are just going to give an
award to an average player like Cheryl. You aren‟t giving the
MVP to Allison „cause she won other awards.” I said to the
almost screaming to him. “Peters, listen the best is the best,
and it will desert to be honor like the best. No because he or
she is your friend and your favorite. If she is the best, give it
to her.”
Peters wasn‟t angry with me, although I was a little
bit loaded in the meeting. He finally decided to give both
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listen.
“Devin‟s upset,” I said.
“I know!” She said.
“What‟s going on there?”
“Monica told me that she thinking that Devin wants
to be more than a friend to her,” Alex announced while she
stared at my face.
“Well, that‟s his problem,” I told her. We both
observed each other; seeing how their behaviors were
different in the campus was funny. We didn‟t have a chance
to touch each other; we had to give an example to the
scholars. When inside us we were eating ourselves for a
small peck.
“He‟ll talk to you later,” she said.
“I guest.”
“Oh! ...” She murmurs with a grin on her face.
“So, how was your day?” I asked the everyday
question.
Alex glanced at me smiling and said, “It was OK.”
Our relation was becoming stronger with the passing of the
days. All eyes were on us. Some students admired us; we
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books on the desk. “Today at the gym she was trying to talk
to me and she made me feel bad again,” he continued, while
a teardrop came down through his cheek.
“Did you cry in front of her?”
“Yes, I did. She was saying all this shit, and she
doesn‟t understand,” he explained. “You and Pierre are the
only Family I got. You understand me better than my
father.”
It was the second time that Devin said something like
that to me, and the first time was too hard to understand why.
“Devin, don‟t say that, I haven‟t done anything for
you.”
“I know, you just been yourself, but you‟re the only
person that has ever taught me something.”
The tears were running from his eyes, while he
cleaned his nose with his sleeves.
“I haven‟t done anything, Kid. That‟s what I do for
living, teaching basketball to kids like you.” I wanted to hug
him and calm his cry, but I didn‟t that, maybe because I was
afraid of getting involved.
“My father once tried to teach me to play tennis, but
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from home and spent three days in the woods . . . You know
I can live in the woods for a year without having hungry.”
“Who found you?”
“Some cops,” he said, “They took me to the police
station, and called my parents.” I most had a painful
expression on my face, because Devin interrupted line of
thought to ask me, “I bet that you didn‟t expect me to be this
bad.”
“Bad? You‟re not bad,” I told him. “You‟re great
kid! You have many things for you in the future. What
happened in the past is just that, past. You just have to learn
from it and try no to repeat it again if there was a mistake.
You‟re only fifteen, Kids. You look at yourself! You‟re
intelligent and smart. You can go anywhere you want, or do
whatever you want do with your life. The past is what you
can‟t shape but the future you can. I‟m sorry of what
happened, Kid, but now what? What are you going to do, my
friend?”
“Coach, I can‟t come here next year. I want my
freedom,” he said, and you aren‟t going to be here next year.
“I don‟t what to live with them, it‟s hard . . . and I don‟t want
to lose you friendship,” he said shucking in his cry. “You
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The year was almost over. The only mayor events that were
suppose to happen were the Grad-Night at Disney and the
Softball game between the faculty and the students. But
before all that Devin and his friend Pierre did the ultimate
prank.
It was time to go to dinner, when every one in Eaton
Hall was getting ready to cross the main road. Eaton was at
the other site of the school, in contrast with the dining hall.
So everyone was suppose to shower and leave building‟s
ground by time dinner was served. Mrs. and Mr. Martin were
two hawks in keeping track of everyone that was going to go
to dinner. But as always there were students that challenged
their authority, like Devin and Pierre. I
The night started as usual, we were going to diner in
the Dining Hall. Everything was completed by this time of
the year, no more sport activities, no more show or
assemblies to attend. This gave me the feeling a conclusion,
as if the school year was over. The full circle was almost
over. Nothing prepared us to what was going to happen in
that evening.
Alex and Devin were sitting in the table waiting for
me. I was running late that night I just got out of the phone,
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one could understand. He bended his body and put his hands
on his knees. Then, he cleared his throat, and finally said
what he wanted to say, “Ryan . . . Ryan is standing on the
top ledge of the Tower,” he said.
Dr. Walden and Mr. Milano – who was sitting
together in the same table–, looked at him as if the kid was
crazy or something, “Calm down Pierre, what you want?”
“Dr. Walden, I‟m telling you . . . he‟s about to
jump,” the boy was almost crying at this point.
“Who?” they both said.
“Ryan!”
At first we didn‟t know what he was talking about,
but then Johnny came inside the building and uttered the
same thing. They were the only administrators on duty that
evening, the two observed each other, and then they ran out
to the yard, as if they were being chased by a mob.
Students, house-parents and everyone stood up to try
to run out through the doors at the same time to follow the
two administrators. In the rush Devin went ahead of us to
see what was going on, he jumped literally over two other
neophytes.
“What‟s going on?” Alex asked me.
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moment. I thought that I was the only one that could help
Ryan in that moment. As I maneuvered between the crow to
where Milano and Walden were; I could hear some pupils
discussing the situation. I felt that the big majority were
nervous, many thought that Ryan was going to jump for sure.
“Dr. Walden, somebody has to go and bring him
down,” Mr. Milan said to his boss when I came near them.
“Ed, I know that,” Walden pronounced almost
shouting. “Who‟s going do that?”
“Send for Mrs. Pots, the guidance counselor,” Milano
contended.
“Where‟s she?”
“I don‟t know, I think she went to Orlando.” Mrs.
Hawkings told the two men. They were acting as if it was a
natural thing to them. They showed not signs of panic; they
were talking as if they were having the conference in the
middle of school yard surrounded by the students‟ body.
“I‟ll go there!” I interrupted their deliberation. They
both looked at me as if I was their salvation. To this day I
don‟t know what was going on in their minds, the only
explanation I have is that maybe they did not want to be
liable for Ryan‟s death.
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that moment.
“Ryan, listen to me?” I cried out again. “Please,
don‟t do this. We can help you. Let me talk to you.” Still, I
did not get a respondent front the boy. The only thing I got
from him was the same foolish laughter.
It took the about one minute to get to the top, after
being inside below the sun light blinded me, for a second I
lost orientation. Ryan was standing on the ledge of window,
I could see his legs and half of his torso but I couldn‟t see his
head and shoulders. At that point I knew that it was going to
be impossible to rescue him using force by bring him down.
If I was going to bringing him in, it was going to use pure
persuasion; however I felt that Ryan was not in a talking
disposition.
“Ryan! It‟s me Coach Ferrer,” I said.
He laughed with the strangest glee I had ever heard in
my life; it was closed to psychotic. Then, he said, “I feel so
good that I could fight!” with that he took off.
“RYAN!” I shouted.
From on the ground I heard the people screaming and
crying, inside the tower Mr. Milano and Mrs. Hawkings ran
down the stairs as fast as they could. I sat down by the small
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bell on the floor of the little space. I did not look down or
peeked to see how the things were down there. I did not
have any emotions; it was as if nothing was real to me at that
point.
I did not move from that spot until Alex came for me
all the way up there. When she saw me sitting on that place,
she ran to hug me. Alex was lachrymose; we hugged for a
long time without saying anything, still I could not feel
anything for what happened. I could not cry or scream or
anything it as if it did not matter to me that the boy jumped
off the cliff.
“What happened?” Finally Alex asked me.
“He did let me get to him,” I answered. “He said that
he felt good and the he could fight, and them he jumped.”
“But, why you did stop him?”
“He didn‟t give me any chance.”
“He‟s so stupid,” she said while she clinched to me.
“He always was!”
We both came down holding hands, it was getting
dark, and the lights of the ambulance and patrol cars were
giving a sensation of outdoor discotheque. Ryan‟s body was
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didn‟t like the place to work or to live, but at the same time I
was completely overwhelmed with the fact that I might not
see Devin again. I felt a deep pain in my heart, as if someone
put extra weight on my shoulders, but as always I kept my
feeling inside me. I didn‟t let anybody know about this.
Mainly because I didn‟t understand it myself, what I turned
to love this boy some much? It was something that was
puzzling my mind. I even care for him more than I ever care
for Jose, for me this was something that didn‟t have any
meaning, but that was how it was.
Pierre was quite next to me; we were listening to
Devin‟s conversation with Mrs. Martin. He was getting nasty
with the lady as she was with him. But he could not get
more hours from her anymore at least for that year. He
worked more hours for her than any other student in the
dormitory, so he hated her with passion.
“She is such bitch,” Pierre aired out.
“I know what you say.” I didn‟t want to agree with
the kid, but I didn‟t know how to defend the lady.
“Coach, can I call you?” he asked
“What?”
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all this from the distance. It‟s very weird it‟s as if my soul
left my body in that moment.”
“You were dead,” Pierre said to Devin. “My Mom
says that when someone dies the soul abandons the body and
move to another dimension.”
“And how does she know that?” Devin asked with a
sarcastic tone.
“My Mom knows things, stupid . . .”
“OK!” I shouted at them. “What did you see?”
They both looked at me as if I was some strange bird.
I was anxious to know more about this bizarre incident. My
stomach was cramping. “Go ahead with your story, Devin,” I
finally said to him.
“The man was holding the body and crying at the
same time,” he said, when the door opened.
It was Mrs. Martin she was very angry, “Where is
Pierre?” she asked Devin.
Pierre was sitting in the closet, and she could not see
him from her angle. The lady was so angry that she was
almost foaming through her mouth. “Coach, I think that you
better leave,” she said. “Devin needs time to pack his
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things.”
“I almost did,” he said to her.
“Boy, don‟t talk back to me,” she shouted.
“Don‟t worry Kid!” I said. “I need to go anyhow. I‟ll
see you tomorrow.”
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Some kids have their hair wet, and some appeared as if they
weren‟t fully awake. I saw Carla, Allison, Christina and
Monica in the girls‟ line, while Johnny, Jason, Pierre, Mark
and Patrick were in the boys‟ line. I say hello to all of then
and even said goodbye. I didn‟t know is I was going to see
then again. I looked inside the building to see if Devin was
eating already.
“Are you looking for Devin?” Pierre asked me.
“Yeah,” I said.
“He is inside, he told me that he wants to sit in your
table,” Pierre pointed at Devin. He was making the line
inside the building.
“OK,” I said, “why don‟t you sit with us?”
“I will.”
I cut the line inside to be with Devin. I knew that it
was going to be the last time we were going to be together so
I decided that I was going to spend the most time possible
with him.
“Hay, kid,” I greeted him.
In respond I received a half smile from him. There
was a dim look on his face.
“What‟s up?” I asked.
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after the school year was over, and she goes sometime to
visit her second Family. They helped Alex with all the
arrangement of the resection, which we did in the dinning
hall of the school.
Everyone told her that it was a mistake to marry me.
But, we proved them wrong; we still together and we have a
daughter, whom I named after my mother, and a son that I
named after Devin.
I am still teaching and coaching basketball. We
moved to Orlando after the wedding, and I found a position
in a Catholic High School. I had been their Basketball
Coach and Social Studies instructor until this day. I think
that they like me.
Sometimes, I hear some news about Green Hills‟
kids, but I tray not to listen. I don‟t want to remember them.
I moved on with my life. The only thing that I missed of that
year is the boy that I taught to play basketball behind Eaton
Hall. There is not a day that I don‟t think about him. Sadly
after he visited us, a couple of times after he graduated from
Green Hills, we lose contact with him. But, I don‟t worry
about him anymore he turn to be a formidable young man,
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