The Player (7 page)

11

“I don’t have to call him ‘daddy’ do I? ‘Cause I’m not gonna. I’ve already got a dad,” Reina said, pulling some of her braids up into a ponytail. Because they were standing side by side in Harlow’s bedroom, checking out their reflections in the mirror hanging on Harlow’s closet door, mother and daughter looked almost like twins.

“No,
Miss Smart Mouth
, of course not, but yuh will treat him with respect,” Harlow said, nudging her daughter to keep her from hogging up the mirror.

Reina’s scowl was pure Ozzy. Not yet a teen, Reina was almost as tall as Harlow, who was five ten. Which meant if Reina didn’t stop growing, she’d be taller than both her parents. “Mom! I’m not a total idiot. I get how much you like him. And we’re gonna be watching the football game from a private box, so how cool is that?”

After a quick look-see at the clock on her dresser drawer, Harlow suggested they needed to get a move on if they wanted to get to the stadium on time. Kyle had offered to send a limo to pick them up, but Harlow decided against it. Reina had enough of the high life whenever her father came around, with his entourage and boisterous ways. Every time Ozzy picked up Reina it was a production, with loud music and equally loud conversation. The only thing Harlow asked was that he be mindful of when Reina went to bed, and not to let her get photographed. Reina didn’t ask to be brought into a whirlwind of entertainers and music critics. She didn’t need to get into some twitter flame war with Ozzy’s detractors. So when Perry Oswald Jennings spent time with his only child, Harlow made him promise to just be Perry, Reina’s dad, and not Ozzy the rapper. But like most celebrities Ozzy had a tough time keeping his personal and his private life separate.

The stadium was loud and colorful, just like one of Ozzy’s concerts, or even the exciting, filled to the max stadiums during Trinidad and Tobago’s
Carnival
. Harlow tried her best to keep up with the action on the field, but it was hard. The players moved so fast and she wasn’t terribly familiar with the game, so all she could do was rely on Reina for a rundown after each play.

“Ooh! Ooh Mom! Kyle just got sacked. That brought the ball back into their own territory,” Reina said, alternating from looking down on the field to her phone.

“What territory?”

“See those lines on the field?” Pointing to show Harlow where to look, Reina almost knocked heads with her mother. “Each one counts for ten yards. They have to get to over the fifty yard line or the middle of the field to be in Bears’ territory. Anything behind the fifty is their territory. That’s why their backs are to us. It’s not good to go backwards, but if they go forward at least twenty yards then they’re in the other team’s territory. They’ve got to make it past Chicago’s goal line to get six points on the board.”

The crowd gave a collective groan when Kyle was sacked again. This time he was slow to rise, making Harlow squeeze her daughter’s chicken wing sauce covered left hand. “He’s hurt,” Harlow said, looking around the room to see if anyone else was concerned. Just like Reina, some were focused on their phones, while others were looking at the field. Some were filling up their plates with food. There were six other families in the private box, and most of them were either related to a player or the team’s owner.

Reina put her phone on her lap, reaching for a napkin and more wings from her plate. “It’s okay, Mom. He walked back to the huddle just fine . . . and . . . and he just threw a bomb to Romero downfield!
Mom! They’re on the Bears thirty yard line! YEAH!!!!!”

THE GAME

Free safety Marquis Owens was big and quick. With his speed he was beating Soebel on the line of scrimmage, getting in the backfield and much too close to Kyle once again. With no man open downfield and the pocket collapsing, Kyle took off racing toward the right sideline.

Marquis collared Kyle by the shoulder pads and threw him to the ground. After Kyle’s run on the outside netted a gain of six yards, he needed help just to walk back to the huddle.

‘You alright man?” Darren asked, concerned over Kyle’s wincing facial expressions. “That Owens kid is trying to make a name for himself, but I’m gonna switch up with Soebel. I got this.”

Kyle bit down on his mouth guard, trying to block out the pain shooting through his right hip. “I can’t take another hit like that. I’m stiffening up.”

On the next play Kyle handed off to his running back and Darren did exactly as he’d promised, trading with Angus Soebel so that he’d post up against Marquis Owens. After bulldozing the kid back, Darren drilled Marquis into the artificial turf. With his arms uncovered, the turf gave Marquis’ exposed skin a nasty burn, which was just the message Darren wanted to send. After a gain of only one yard, it now was third and three, and this time Marquis was the one walking slowly back to his squad. With his favorite receiver in double coverage, Kyle debated airing it out and ripping one into the end zone. Instead he opted for a short shovel pass to his running back, and this time his offense punched a hole in the defense that was big enough for a first down and then some. Kyle kept an eye on the play clock. After his running back was stuffed for a loss of three, Kyle’s next pass was batted down, and he had another one dropped, so they went for a field goal. Three points were better than nothing before the half ended. A hooked kick still managed to go through the upright, so as the team walked in the tunnel toward the locker room, they were only down by seven.

The locker room was nothing but a shouting melee. The Chicago Bears had a rookie quarterback in, so how were the Renegades losing? “I’m grinding out there man.” Darren slammed a closed fist into his chest. “It’s all about how much heart you got. You gotta want this game. You gotta want this more than anything. ‘Cause if you don’t, then we’re gonna lose.”

The offensive coordinator drew up a plan to contain Marquis Owens, who was still a threat because he kept getting deep into their secondary with his quickness. Owen’s job was to put pressure on the quarterback, and he was doing a good job of flushing Kyle out of the pocket. But once half-time was over and they were back on the field, the Renegades stopped making so many mental mistakes. It didn’t look like they’d turn it around, especially with a flag on their very first play of the second half.

Darren got hit with a holding penalty so they ended up moving back ten yards after a great runback by a rookie on special teams. “Sorry,” Darren huffed once he got back in the huddle. “Pass rusher got by me.”

Kyle knew he’d have to throw downfield, because they were expecting another run play. He stood tall in the pocket, firing a rifling pass that was overthrown.

They still had forth down, so the orders from the sideline were to go for it. Running a slant route, their top receiver Romero Diaz separated from the man covering him and Kyle zipped the pass right into his chest.

First and ten. Kyle read the blitz and got rid of the ball quickly, but it was batted down. Relieved that it hadn’t been intercepted, on the next play the pocket collapsed so he took off running, rolling to his right and spotting Romero downfield. The throw wasn’t pretty, and Diaz had to stretch to pull it in. but he held on, even when he was roughly sandwiched by two defenders. At least they were in the mid-field, and almost in field goal range. On the next play Kyle dumped it across the middle to one of his three wide outs, a guy who used to play with the Philadelphia Eagles. He was firing on all cylinders, trying to will a win for his team. After a pump fake his legs were grazed by a defender, almost taking him off balance. Still, he managed to tuck the ball into his chest and do an awkward run that netted them more yardage. Some of the fans began chanting his college nickname, “Run and Gun” McClure. The Bears’ defense was expecting a short pass on third and five, but Kyle aired it out after spotting a fake blitz. A broken play had him running while looking to dump it off. Romero was his favorite target, but Chad Burris was a close second.  Nobody saw Chad breaking inside. Chad faked like he’d run down field, but then sprinted right back so Kyle completed one into his chest. After that Chad high hurdled over one defender, shook off another, and danced into the end zone. Somehow, the Renegades were up by three. And that’s how the game ended, with much of the fourth quarter being a defensive battle.

After shaking the hands of Bears players after the game and talking to reporters on the field, Kyle’s thirty three year old legs were wobbly. Some days winning felt just as bad as losing. And this was one of those days.
Mortality was a bitch. How long did have left in this game? Seven years at the max? Hell, the whispers about him had turned into villagers ready with pitchforks and axes. They wanted his head after three years and no Superbowl. The fans were ready to say he wasn’t the man to lead their dynasty, and with all the aches and pains he’d gotten during this game, Kyle wasn’t so sure they weren’t right.

12

The main store for Torii’s Beauty Supplies was housed in a little strip mall along with a Sam’s Club, a large supermarket chain called Busy Bee Market, and several other smaller shops. Harlow parked her car in one of the many open spaces. After shopping for hair care products and a perm kit, she deposited her tubes and boxes on the front counter. “Hey, do you know if Torii is in today? I’m a good friend of hers.”

The clerk had a little smirk on her face. “If she is, she’s probably busy right now.”

“Okay. Could ring her and let her know I’m here? I just wanna say hello. Tell her it’s Harlow.”

That smirk got wider, and the clerk’s eyes cut over to the other cashier, but that woman kept her head down. Harlow stood there, trying to read the silent signals being given off between the two. One seemed reluctant to even deal with it, while the other acted like she couldn’t wait to gossip. Bewilderment slowly changed to a growing sense of unease. Harlow pulled out enough bills to pay for her things and silently waited for her change. Once the money was placed in her hand, she gave a curt goodbye.

The parting shot hit just before she got to the door. “Guess there won’t be a threesome today” was followed by loud coughs disguising more biting cracks at Torii’s expense, as both women cackled over the jokes.

Harlow had a moment to process what had been said before whipping around to march back to the counter, her eyes blazing.
“What’s your name?”

The woman’s smirk was replaced by a loud, annoyed sigh. “Lorna.”

“Well Lorna, if you worked for me and dared to say anything like you just did to a customer,
I’d make sure this was your last day on the job.”

“I didn’t-” Lorna sputtered, changing her tactic in mid-sentence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to do my job. The owner’s not here anyway.”

“Oh, now yuh wanna act like yuh didn’t disrespect Torii?” Checking her anger, Harlow spoke her next words slowly and with authority. “Yuh wanted me to know that something’s going on in the back that yuh don’t approve of. It’s not only funny to you, but you’ve made it a point to gossip about it, and to give out hints that you think no one is the wiser about. I got your message. I’ll make sure your boss knows just what you think about her.”

“You can tell her anything you want, lady. I didn’t say nothin’ that wasn’t true. We all know what she does and who she’s doin’ it with back there.
Right, Rosie
?”

The other clerk was busy making herself useful in another aisle. “Did you just call me?” Rosie asked, walking to the front with a load of hair coloring products in her arms. “All I know is there’s security cameras in this place. And they record sound, so I know there’s nothing on tape with me saying anything bad about Miss Torii.”

Harlow and Lorna’s stare down continued, with Lorna looking sickly over Rosie’s revelation. “I’m sure Torii would accept your apology, as long as you’re sincere.” Harlow said. “So long as you stop spreading such malicious gossip.”

Lorna didn’t say anything back. She waited until Harlow was out the door, and nearing her car with her comeback. “I really don’t care,” Lorna said, looking directly into the camera. “Shit, this job don’t pay enough for me to deal with this,
so bye, bitch.”

“Well I need this job,” Rosie said, also looking directly into the camera. “Miss Torii, when you do finally watch this, please keep in mind that I wasn’t sayin’ nothing.”

Lorna rang up a fake sale, cleaning out the cash drawer. Rosie watched her with an open mouth.
“Ooh, what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“That woman is rich, she won’t miss this little bit of money. There’s a new shipment of real nice human hair in the back, too. We could make some good money selling them on the street.”

Rosie shook her head. “Uh-uh. You’re going to jail.”

“I’m going back there to get that security tape. She won’t know what happened without that tape.”

“I wouldn’t go back there-”

Rosie’s warning came too late. Lorna opened the door to that cold ass storage room, only to face a woman who looked like she’d been to hell and back. The woman had on a camouflage jacket, the kind Lorna had only seen people in the service wearing and beige boots that were blackened around the toe.

“Give back the money,” were the only words she said, before Lorna’s scream was choked off by the woman’s hand forking her throat. Her attacker then threw a punch that connected with the bridge of Lorna’s nose, making her fall backwards where half her body was in the front store and the lower half was in the connecting hallway.

The woman rifled through the downed clerk’s apron and pants pockets to snag the money that had been in the cash register. She worked quietly and efficiently, lips
pinched in anger, glaring at Lorna through expressionless black eyes,
not even concerned with Rosie’s presence. Lorna wisely didn’t fight back.

Once the money was retrieved, she silently motioned for Rosie, who slunk forward.

“Put it back in the register,” the woman commanded, her hand out, passing on the cash. She hauled Lorna off the floor, telling her to get the fuck out.

Limping and running to the front of the store, Lorna held her swelling nose, relieved to leave with just a bloody nostrils.

“I told you not to go back there,” Rosie hissed, breaking off  her path up the aisle to go behind the counter. “That’s the crazy homeless lady that Miss Torii took in. That’s Eva, and you do not wanna mess with her.”