It Is What It Is

By Eric Trager

Published on Sep 17, 2016

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Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"George, get me a blanket out of that closet over there, and call 911!" Joe yelled.

Once Joe had the blanket, he struggled to roll his son over, noticing that his penis was engorged into a huge erection that was swollen and purple. He covered Sean with the blanket and pulled him onto the landing at the top of the basement stairs. "Sean! Son! Are you alright? What happened? Sean!"

Sean appeared to attempt to speak, but was unable to do so beyond a little incoherent babble. His eyes were unfocused and appeared to roll back in his head. Joe was getting worried. And he was pissed off. When he had the security system installed in the house, the basement was one of the few place in the house besides the attic and the bedrooms where video surveillance had not been installed. The reason for that was because there were no exterior entry points to the basement it didn't seem necessary. That meant that given there was no video and with Sean's inability to speak at the moment, Joe had no way to determine what was going on.

George returned letting Joe know that he'd called 911 and went to check on the party out back.

"OK," Joe said to George. "Now I'm assuming they'll send JPD as well. What are we gonna do about all these kids here and the beer? What the fuck do you think is wrong with Sean?"

"I don't know, Joe. If I had to guess based upon his, uh, symptoms, I'd say he's been drugged. Now, as for the rest of it, it's been taken care of, Joe. The beer ran out an hour ago. Almost all of the kids have already left and I have Andy, Tim and Brett collecting the beer cups from outside and putting them in trash bags. The empty keg's in the garage. Besides, trust me, the cops aren't gonna look out there, get me? They will see nothing tonight other than what we show them."

"OK, well, I'm going to stay here with Sean until the paramedics come. He seems to be breathing alright, and his pulse is strong. Who would do this to him? He didn't do this. There's no fucking way..."

"No, I don't believe he did, either, Joe. Not Sean. There's more going on here based on what I've, uh, seen," George said. Here, take this and hand it back to me."

"What? That's a dollar bill..."

"Hand it back to me."

Joe handed George the dollar bill back.

"You've just retained me as your Attorney in this matter."

By that time, the Paramedics arrived. The one in charge examined Sean and turned to Joe.

"Mr. Wyman, we don't feel your son is in any danger here. What it looks like to us to be right now is that he was probably administered some sort of 'Date Rape' drug as well as a healthy dose of Viagra. We will be taking him to Mercy Hospital because we can't confirm any of that here. I'm just basing it on experience at what I've seen out in the field before. We'll be taking him to the Emergency Room."

Joe asked George to remain and handle the Police. George said he'd be happy to do that, and Tim said he'd be happy to remain at the Alamo with his father. The Dowlings had left already, taking Peggy with them and dropping her off at home.

Joe went out back to find Andy and tell him what was going on. Andy reacted predictably stoically to the news, only wanting to know when they'd be leaving for the hospital. Finding John, who had just returned from walking Kathleen home, Joe regarded it as a blessing that John wished to remain behind with George, Tim and Brett both in order to help and as another set of eyes.

"Don't forget, dad," John said, "I have a past that sometimes involved the Police. I can read them. I'll stay here, don't you worry. Just go."

Arriving at the hospital, Joe and Andy parked and entered the Emergency Room. At the desk, they were informed that Sean had already been brought in and was being looked at. The Receptionist advised that they have a seat and that she'd let the attending Physician know they were there.

"Was it like this back in Kenosha that night?" Andy wanted to know.

"Pretty much, son. Although you were hurt a lot worse. I don't think Sean has any physical injuries, though. We'll have to wait and see what they tell us. I'm concerned, though, that if he was given drugs, exactly what was he was given and that his body is strong enough to deal with them. The Paramedics said he wasn't in danger, so I guess that's good."

"I don't know what to tell Coach about the team meeting. I mean, Sean-o won't be there, he'll be here. The meetings are mandatory."

"Don't worry about that, son. Your meetings are at 10:30. You and I will go over to the school about 10:00 and we'll see Coach before the meeting. It will be fine."

"Yeah, but what are we gonna tell Coach?"

"We will tell him the truth. I'm sure he will find a discrete way to inform the team that Sean was, shall we say, `taken ill' and cannot be there. Sean didn't do anything wrong and he didn't break any Athletic Department rules. Of that I am sure."

Presently, a Doctor emerged from the patient area and made his way over to Joe and Andy. "Mr. Wyman, I presume?"

"Yes, I'm Joe Wyman, and this is Andy Churchill. What's going on, Doctor?"

"Well, we ran some initial blood tests and it is as the Paramedics suspected. Sean was administered both Rohypnol and Viagra. Rohypnol is a commonly used Date Rape drug. From the test results, we know he was administered a non-lethal dose, however the dose appears to be high enough that it's almost certain once he wakes up he's not going to remember what happened. It will probably take him six, or eight hours to sleep off the Rohypnol. There won't be any lasting effects from it. We will be monitoring him. Now, the Viagra we treated him for. He was administered a high dose of it, we think about twice the recommended amount. It won't have any lasting effects, either, beyond maybe a headache, nausea and a sore penis, but there's something else we found..."

"Oh NO!" Andy burst into tears. "Please tell me he'll be OK... Please?"

"Yes, Andy, Sean is going to be OK. What I'm referring to is what we found on his body. I'm sorry if I alarmed you. I'm afraid we had to notify the Police. They sent a Forensic Detective over who is with Sean and another Doctor now."

"Notify the Police?" Joe asked. "Of what?"

"Mr. Wyman, what we found is consistent with rape. On his penis, we found semen. Examining him further, we were able to determine that he'd had at least one ejaculation, more likely two. We also found what we are certain is vaginal fluid. In addition, he appears to have been violated anally. We found no anal injuries, but there is evidence of penetration by a foreign object. Because we deem the totality of what we observed to be consistent with rape, we have not cleaned his body. The Police will want to take what samples they can get and run DNA testing. That's normally their procedure. Once the Police give us the go-ahead, at that time we will clean him."

"Thank you, Doctor. We'll wait here," Andy said. Turning to Joe, Andy asked, "What did Sean do that night I was taken to the hospital?"

"Andrew, he tried to be as strong as he could for you. He loves you. Now it's your turn. There's nothing we can do right now except wait. Maybe the Police can tell us something once they do their work. I love both of you, Andrew, and if this turns out to be what it looks like, we will all have to go on with life. OK, bud?"

"Yeah, dad. I know. I don't know who would do something like that. I hope Sean-o doesn't end up thinking there's something wrong with him..."

"We'll just have to see, won't we... I would imagine things like this affect different people in different ways."

Just then, a man dressed in chinos and an Oxford shirt appeared. "Mr. Wyman?"

"Yes, I'm Joe Wyman..."

"Mr. Wyman, I'm Detective David Somerville of the Janesville Police. Could I speak to you privately, sir?"

"Thank you, Detective. This is Andrew Churchill. He's my ward. You can speak freely in front of both of us if it's alright with you."

"Certainly. I've just examined your son and I'd like to go over what I found and how we plan to proceed. I'd also like to add that I saw him play tonight against Parker. He's an impressive young man, and I'm sure you're proud of him. At any rate, I can confirm what the Doctor told you: we found semen and vaginal fluid. We also found evidence of anal penetration. Consulting further with the Doctor we do not believe the penetration was penile. We believe it was some sort of foreign object, what exactly we do not know at this time. I also collected some skin that appears to be human from under Sean's fingernails. The vaginal fluid and skin we will run DNA tests on and see if we come up with a match. If we do, then we should be able to proceed quickly to complete our investigation."

"What if you don't get a match?"

"Well, if we don't then that will complicate things and it will make our investigation lengthier. For now, we will proceed as I indicated."

"Very well, Detective. Thank you. I do have one question, though."

"Sure."

"When can we expect to be interviewed?"

"As far as I understand it, your Attorney is setting that up. My guess is that it would be sometime within the next 12 hours. Probably best if you contact your Attorney on that. I'll need you to prepare a list of everyone you knew to be at your party this evening."

"Very good."

The doctor returned at that point to give Joe and Andy an update. "We're getting ready to admit Sean. He's resting comfortably and his vital signs are normal. We're keeping him hydrated and we administered a small amount of glucose to avoid him becoming hypoglycemic which can be a side effect of Rohypnol. Hydrating him will also increase his urination for which we have inserted a catheter. It will help to detoxify his body. As I indicated before, we'll know more in six, or eight hours. You may wish to go home now so that you can see him in the morning."

"You're right, Doctor," Joe said.

"Dad, if it's OK I'm going to stay here. I want to be here when Sean wakes up. The Doctor said he won't remember anything, so when he wakes up he's not gonna know where he is. I think I need to be here for him," Andy said.

"If that's what you want, then by all means, Andrew. You call me when you know more."

"I will, dad."

Joe returned to the Alamo finding only George and John still there.

"How is he?" George asked.

"They say he's resting comfortably and it's basically acute toxicity that should pass within eight hours, or so. I let him down, George. It was either someone who planned this out for a long time, or someone with blind-ass luck. But I let my own kid down. And poor Andy doesn't know what to expect. He stayed at the hospital so he'd be there when Sean comes out of it."

"Joe, there was nothing more you could have done. Bad people find ways to do bad things. We'll keep plugging along here. Anyway, I want to bring you up to speed. The Police will be here at 1:00 p.m. to interview you, Andy and John. Tim, Brett, Peggy, Brett's parents and myself they will interview at my house at 3:30. I will be present here for your interviews. It shouldn't take long as there's really nothing anyone knows. I mean, Tim knows all these kids and he said he can't think of anything, so... I asked Tim to prepare a list of who he knows was here. The Police will want one from you as well if they haven't asked for it already. I called the Chief of Police and, uh, persuaded him shall we say that this is to be kept out of the press. The Chief assured me the Department will not issue any statements. I took the liberty of calling Coach Slater while you were out and apprised him of the situation. I felt it best to tell him the truth, Joe. I've known Coach for years. My other two boys played for him as well. Coach said not to worry about it, that he would handle it with the team and they won't be told anything other than Sean was taken to the hospital. I can tell you that Coach was crushed someone would do something like this to a kid like Sean."

"Thank you, George. I'll be having my security folks review all the tapes from last night as well. I swear, though, I fucking swear on Val's grave if I ever find out who did this there won't be a fucking scrap of meat left on their bones. Not one fucking scrap."

"There's something else, Joe..."

"Yeah?"

"The Police did not go in the back yard, but they did search the basement. It seems that whatever took place happened in the media room. I went with them when they were down there. Nothing appeared to be amiss, or stolen at least as far as I could tell. The Cops found additional bodily fluids which they collected. They also found, well, they found a rather large strap-on dildo. They bagged it up and took it with them. I asked them if they thought this was the work of one person, or more than one person. >From what they saw they said it was too early to tell. If you need anything, Joe, anything at all..."

"For now I think I need sleep. I just pray this won't mentally damage Sean. I'm no Rube, but this is a place I've never been before."

"He's a strong, young man, Joe. I expect he'd not be himself for a little while, though. I know Andy will help him through it. Tim will always be available for him, too."

"So will I," John spoke up. "Sean saved my life. I love him, dad, and I owe him everything. I won't let anything bad happen to Sean. And I won't let him think it was his fault, either."

"Very well, John. We will go see Sean in a little while, but for now why don't we try to get some sleep. It's almost 2:30 in the morning."

"I'll see myself out, Joe. You can lock up once I'm gone."

"Thanks again, George. I'll be seeing you at 1:00 then."

"You got it."

At Mercy Hospital, Sean had been admitted to a private room. Andy fell asleep in the chair next to the bed. He slept lightly and fitfully, every so often glancing over at his handsome Prince and shedding a tear. He knew that this time it would be up to him to be the strong one.

Around 8:00 a.m., Andy heard stirring, and woke up. He saw Sean open his eyes and immediately look startled.

"Sean-o, I'm here. We're at the hospital. They had to bring you here last night."

"Why?"

"Do you remember anything?"

"No. Why am I in the hospital? I have a splitting headache, too..."

"I'll call the Nurse. Sean-o, last night at the party... You remember the party?"

"Yeah, what happened?"

"Someone gave you some drugs. You blacked out. You were stuck in the basement."

"I was?"

"Yeah, me and Dix looked for you for like almost two hours."

"Am I OK? I feel like fucking shit..."

"Yes, you are OK. I mean, you're not hurt, or anything. You're feeling the drug wear off."

"My dick hurts, too. It feels like I jacked off about a hundred times without stopping..."

"Sean-o, you remember how when I got beat up you were strong for me?"

"Yeah, why? Something's wrong, isn't it... And, please tell me if there's something I don't remember. Just say it. And?"

"Sean-o, last night someone gave you a date rape drug and Viagra. They took you in the basement and fucked themselves on you."

"What?"

"The Doctor said when you were brought in that there was semen, they could tell that you had cum, and they also found vaginal fluid. Do you remember any of it?"

"No. The last thing I think I remember was having beer on my shirt and cleaning it off. At least that's the last thing I think I remember... Then I woke up here. Are you saying I was raped?"

"I guess so..." Andy then reached out and took Sean's hand. "Oh, Blondie, I love you so much."

"What time is it?"

"It's a little after 8:00 Saturday morning."

"Shit, we have the meeting at 10:30! I gotta get outta here!"

Just then the Nurse showed up. "I see you're awake, Mr. Wyman! How you feeling? Do you need anything?"

"Well, I have a headache, and I could use some water. I have a football team meeting in two hours and I need to get out of here so I can be there. Can you get me my clothes so I can get dressed and get out of here, please?"

"Mr. Wyman, I'm sorry, but you won't be able to go anywhere until at the earliest this evening. You're on observation. It will be fine."

"What the fuck?" Sean said. "No, I'm fine. I gotta go!"

"You will be going home this afternoon, or this evening, my dear, but not before." the Nurse said matter-of-factly as she patted his hand.

"And, I need to call Coach. Can you call him for me? I dunno where my phone is..."

Andy called Coach and handed the phone to Sean.

"Coach, this is Sean Wyman... Well, I woke up in the hospital and I'm not a hundred percent sure why... They say I can't leave until tonight... It's OK if I miss the meeting? Oh, you'll tape it for me? OK, well I guess that's alright. No, I really don't know what happened... I don't remember... Andy told me someone slipped me some drugs, or something... I feel OK except for a headache and my dick hurts...

OK, Coach, I'll call you when I get home. Thanks... Bye..."

"Wow, And, Coach seems like he already knew about it! I can't believe I don't remember anything.

That's scary. There's a whole time period and I don't remember what happened, or what I did. I'm a little bit freaked out..."

"It's OK...you're here and you're safe."

"What about the rape thing?" Sean asked, a shiver going up his spine. "I'm not sure what I think about that... I feel, I dunno what I feel... I feel numb. Do you still love me...?"

"Sean-o, I will always love you. I love you more than I did yesterday and less than I will tomorrow. I just want you to promise me one thing..."

"What's that?"

"If you think you're having trouble with this please let me know. I don't think you should have to go through this by yourself. That's all I'm gonna ask."

"That's fine. I still feel kinda numb, though. I mean mentally. I just feel flat, like I don't feel anything. I suppose I can expect a visit from the Cops, too. Sweet. Didn't we just get done in Court?"

"Well, it's déjà vu all over again, sweetheart."

Just then Tim and Brett walked in.

"Hey, guys..." Sean said without much emotion.

"Hey, Wymo..." Brett said. Tim looked at his friend and simply reached out his hand to clasp Sean's. Tim's lip trembled.

"We uh...we know that...um, well," Tim tried to get out. "We, um, know you have to, like, stay in here for today. Coach is just gonna say that you ate something bad, or something like that. He's not gonna let anyone know. We won't say anything, either."

"Did you guys see anything? I mean, like who mighta done it?" Sean asked.

"We talked about that," Brett said. "We didn't see anything. It's like one minute you were there and the next minute Andy said he hadn't seen you for an hour. The party was pretty packed around that time and it was hard to move around so we looked, but in the end we just figured you were in the crowd somewhere. Your dad checked your phone location to see if you mighta went somewhere else, but it said you were at the house. Then you banged on the basement door. You must have been trying to get out. You must have crawled up the stairs. Do you remember doing that?"

"No..." Sean answered, again unemotionally.

At that point, Joe and John walked in. "Jesus, we got the whole crowd here!" Joe said.

"Hey, Joe," Tim said. "We were just gonna leave anyway. I'll call you tonight, Wymo."

"We'll both call," Brett said.

Once they got out of the building and into Brett's car, Tim started crying like a baby. "I can't... I mean... Who would... I..."

"I know what you're trying to say, Tim," Brett said. "I think it's awful, too. I don't think we should push him for a little while. He's going to have to unwind this and it's best not to say the wrong thing. He knows we're here for him and that's what's important for him to know right now. Here. Here's a Kleenex. Dry your eyes."

"OK, but it's just that..." Tim couldn't finish.

"I know, hun. I feel just as bad as you do. But it won't help Sean to feel bad. We can't turn the clock back. It is what it is, and all we can do is be his friends. It's not going to be a day at the beach for Andy, either. The most we can hope for right now is that it doesn't play shit with Sean's head. We'll just be observant and if we see anything off, we'll talk to his dad. I think that's the best way forward here."

"Yeah, you're right. You're better at this kind of shit than I am, that's for sure..."

"No, I don't think I am. It's just that there's really nothing we can do except deal with the situation as it is. You cried because you love him. I know you do. And that's fine. Everyone needs a Wymo. And that's why you feel like you do. It's part of your charm, Timothy."

"Jesus, you know me like a fuckin' book!" Tim laughed.

"You're an easy read, Tim," Brett teased back.

At the school, the football team minus their Number Two Quarterback filed into the Small Auditorium. Coach Slater opened the meeting, "Gentlemen, no doubt most of you have noticed the absence of Mr. Wyman this morning. I'm told by his father that late last night he was taken to the Emergency Room at Mercy Hospital. Mr. Wyman called me himself from the hospital this morning. He wanted to be here with his team mates. I told him to do what the Doctor says. I'm told by his father that he's fine and should be released later today. Other than that, I would expect he'll be joining us at Quarterback for the Tremper game this Friday. Very well, gentlemen, that is all for announcements."

At 1:00 that afternoon, Detective Somerville, Joe, Andy and John were seated in the Library at the Alamo.

"Detective, I've prepared a list here of all the adults that were here last night. The list of adults includes guests as well as catering help who were here. Andy and John have a list of all the kids they remember being here. I know that I have all the adults listed, but it was a large party and the list of kids most likely doesn't include everyone. Also, this is my Attorney, George Dickson. He'll be sitting in on the interview."

"How are you, George?" Detective Somerville asked.

"I'm good, Dave. I'll just be a fly on the wall here."

"One thing, George, I'm gonna need those trash bags that were collected from out back last night. The ones in the garage. I'm here on a rape case involving drugs, not some penny-ante underage drinking bust, but we'll need to go through them to see if there's anything that'll help us. I'll make sure the right guy goes through them."

"That's fine, Dave." George answered, nodding to Joe.

"Very well. Let's begin. I'll begin with you, Andy. Did you notice any suspicious actions by anyone last night?"

"No, nothing really..."

"Anyone using drugs, even marijuana?"

"No. I'm sure of that. I mean, I can't say what anyone might have done before they got here, but I didn't notice anything like that going on..."

"Right. Now, what prompted you to wonder about where Sean was?"

"Well, I hadn't seen him for about an hour. There were a lot of people here, and I thought maybe he was just making the rounds, so I started walking through the crowd looking for him. When I didn't find him, I asked some friends if they'd seen him. They said no. I thought that was weird so I went and asked dad. Then we looked around the house and we didn't find him."

"Did you look in the basement?"

"Dad had the basement locked. It's a keypad and thumbprint lock, so you have to know the combination to unlock it, or use your thumbprint. When I checked the door it was still locked. I opened the door and there weren't any lights on down there, and I didn't hear anything so I closed the door and locked it again."

"Do you know about what time that would have been?"

"Not exactly, no. I'd say maybe like around midnight? I'm not really sure..."

"Yes, it would have been around midnight, more or less," Joe said.

"Alright. Is there anything else you can think of, Andy?"

"No, not really..."

"OK, we'll question John. John, where were you during this time."

"I was upstairs in my bedroom."

"Were you alone?"

"No, my girlfriend was there with me."

"I don't think it's necessary for me to know what you and your girlfriend were doing in your bedroom.

What is her name?"

"Kathleen Kennedy."

"And how did you become aware of what was going on?"

"Well, we came back downstairs after a while. Kathleen said she had to go because she had to be home by midnight. They only live a few blocks away, so I walked her home and came back."

"How long would you say you were gone from the house?"

"Fifteen, twenty minutes."

"On your return did you notice anything, or anyone suspicious outside the house? Any suspicious vehicles?"

"No."

"Alright, Joe you're next. When the kids came to the party, how did they enter and leave?"

"We used the side gate for that. I didn't want kids tramping through the house. There were at most a half-dozen kids in the house, probably not even that many, and we know them all. Their names are all on the list."

"Would you put stars next to those names, please?"

"Certainly." Joe did as the Detective asked then handing the list back.

"I see you have video surveillance. Does the system monitor your side gate area?"

"Yes. In the immediate area of the gate it does. There should be video of that for the entire evening. I've instructed my security firm to make all videos from last night available to you on demand. They have also been instructed in writing to cooperate with any requests you make. Here is a copy of those instructions."

"And the surveillance includes the back yard?"

"Yes. The cameras are directed outwards. There is also a camera at the back door of the house."

"But there is no surveillance in the basement, correct?"

"Unfortunately, that is correct, Detective. It wasn't installed in that location because there are no exterior entry points to the basement."

"Very well, that's all I have for now."

"How do you see the investigation proceeding, Detective?" Joe asked.

"OK, here's how this is gonna go: we'll interview some of the other guests from last night later today. In the meantime, the DNA we collected last night has already been delivered to Madison for testing at the State Crime Lab. We should have those results back in a day, or two. Figure two because it's the weekend. With the results will be notification whether, or not the Crime Lab has a match with anyone in their databank. As I said at the hospital, if we get a match, it's an open-and-shut case. If we don't get a match, then it's plain old-fashioned gum-shoe detective work and in that instance I have to be honest, I could not give you an accurate time horizon for how long the investigation would take. Sometimes we get lucky and they're short, other times it can take months, or even years. I don't want to give you false hope. I hope you can understand that."

"Just keep me up to date, that's all I ask, Detective. By the way, have you questioned Sean yet?"

"No. I `d like to come by this evening to do that if that's alright."

"Certainly, Detective."

With that, Detective Somerville left the Alamo.

"Whadya think, George?" Joe sked.

"I dunno. It seems like a mystery. Someone had to have brought Sean in the house from the outside and got him straight away to the basement, did what they did and then left. All unnoticed. Sean had to have already been drugged before he came in the house or he would have remembered something. Now, how do you administer drugs without the victim knowing about it... Well, in a case like last night it would have had to have been put in his beer. I mean, someone didn't just come up and say, `here take these pills!' That's where I think I'd be looking anyway..."

"Then the tapes from the patio will be the most important thing," Andy said.

"Precisely, Andrew," George answered.

"And the gate, too. We should look at the tapes from the gate from about 10:00 to midnight. I'd look for a girl who left by herself."

"Yes, I think so..." Joe added.

That afternoon at 4:00, Joe and the boys brought Sean home from the hospital. Sean was quiet and listless. He got a glass of water from the kitchen and said he was going to go lie down. Andy looked at Joe with sad eyes as they watched Sean walk up the stairs, not in his usual, jaunty two-stairs-at-a-time way, but one-by-one and with his shoulders slightly slumped.

"Wait a little while and then go up," Joe said to Andy.

John looked on, aghast. He waited until the other two were clear of the stairs and he went up. He didn't knock on Sean's door. He walked right in.

Sean was on the bed with his back facing the door. He didn't move at all as John walked in. John closed the door, went over and sat down on the bed next to Sean. Still Sean did not move. John reached over and rubbed Sean's back slowly and gently.

"Sean, I know you're feeling nothing right now. Someone stole your time and they stole a little piece of your soul. The time is gone. You can't have it back, but the little piece of your soul will grow back if you let it. You're my big brother, Sean. And you're my hero..."

Sean turned and looked at John.

"That's right, my hero," John continued. "You saved my life when someone took a little piece of my soul. I let it grow back because I had no choice. I love you, Sean, and I owe you everything. If I live to be eighty years old, you'll always be my hero. You have to let that little piece of your soul grow back just like I had to do. For Andy, and dad, and Dix and all the guys on the team, but most of all for yourself. I'm not gonna let my big brother hurt. And I want my hero back."

"I don't know what to do..." Sean whispered.

"There's nothing you can do to heal your soul just like there's nothing Andy can do to heal his leg. It will happen on its own. But I'll tell you what you CAN do, and what you HAVE TO do." Sean looked at John quizzically.

"You have to get up, put your pants on one leg at a time, square up your shoulders like I've seen you do a hundred times and you have to get on with life, Sean. There is no other way to deal with this. It is what it is."

Sean actually laughed for a split second.

"Well, what's it gonna be, big bro? I didn't come up here just to hear myself talk, ya know..."

"You're right. I wonder if I should see a shrink..."

"I don't think so. I mean, those guys have the best job in the world. Their patients never die and they never get better, either. They'd see you have good insurance and it'd be like `ka-CHING!' and they'd keep you coming back forever. All they'd do is give you some stupid pills that would make you feel like shit and just put a Band-Aid on it. You're gonna hafta do this yourself, Sean. We're all gonna be there for ya a hundred percent, but you gotta get back on the horse and ride, bro. And ya gotta get back on now."

Sean sat up and stared at John for at least thirty seconds. Then he pulled John into a hug and said, "Let's go. I gotta get back on the horse. You're something else, Squirt..."

John took Sean by the hand and they bounded down the stairs. They figured Joe and Andy would be in the bar, so that's where they went. Sean walked in first. "Dad, And...I'm really sorry. I guess I felt, well I dunno what I felt, but J.R. talked some sense into me. I'm gonna deal with this. I'll be OK."

Andy went to Sean, touched him on the shoulder whispering, "I love you so" into his ear, smiling through his tears.

"I'm going to throw myself into my school work, and football. I have to move on from this and the only way I know how is to keep busy," Sean said

"I'm proud of you, Sean," Joe said. "I won't push, or pry but you come to me if you're having issues here, understood?"

"Yeah, dad. Like I said, I'll be fine. It might take a little while to be a hundred percent myself but I have to look forward, not back. I can't do that right now. Looking forward is the only way I see to go."

"Very well. Now there is a Police Detective that's going to interview you after dinner, and Coach Slater is going to stop by after that to go over the team meeting from today."

"That's fine," Sean answered.

At 6:30 p.m. Detective Somerville arrived at the Alamo to interview Sean. They did the interview in the Parlor next to the living room. Andy and Joe volunteered to be present but Sean just waived them off.

"Sean, I'm Detective Somerville, Janesville Police. I'm going to interview about what happened last night. I don't think this will take long but at any point if you need a short break just let me know."

"I'll be fine, Detective. I guess we should just get on with it here."

"Very good. Here's a copy that Andy and John prepared of kids they knew to be at the party last night. Look this over and if there's anyone you can think of that wasn't here, please just add them to the list."

"That's fine. I'll look it over after you go and if I need to add anyone to it, I'll do that. Dad has a scanner in his office, so I could just scan it and email it to you."

"That's fine, Sean. Alright, why don't we start by having you recount last evening. I'm going to record this, by the way."

Sean gave his account of the evening. Who he saw, who he talked with, what he ate and drank and ended with waking up in a hospital bed not knowing how, or why he was there."

"Do you remember how you ended up in the basement?"

"No."

"Your father and Andy both state that the basement door was locked and that one needs either a keypad code, or a thumbprint to unlock it. How do you think the door got unlocked?"

"I don't know. It's only us that know the code and have out thumbprints in the system. Not even the cook, or the cleaning lady has those."

"Do you remember crawling up the stairs and banging on the door?"

"No."

"What is the last thing you can remember about last night."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that a lot. The last thing I remember is getting a beer and then someone bumped into me and some of it went on my shirt. I remember wiping it off. Then that's it until I woke up in the hospital."

"At any point last night did you observe anyone acting suspiciously?"

"No, I can't say I did. It just seemed like a regular post-game party. I mean, it was crowded and all, but I don't remember anything out of the ordinary..."

"OK, I think that's all for now, Sean. I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. If you think of anything, call me. And don't forget to email that list."

"OK, Detective. And here's my cell phone number. If you need anything, call me or text me."

"Thank you. Have a nice evening, Sean."

"You, too."

Sean noticed as Detective Somerville was on his way out that Coach was parking his car in front of the house. "Good," Sean thought. "I'd rather just get all this over with."

"Hey, Coach!" Sean called out.

"Hello, Mr. Wyman," Coach replied.

Sean showed Coach inside and to the Library.

"Should we get started with the audio of the meeting?"

"No, that's fine, Coach. I can listen to it later on. If I have any questions I can ask you, or Dix on Monday. There's something else I want to talk about, though..."

Coach looked at Sean with anxiety. He didn't want to hear that Sean was quitting the team. "Sean, I know I never address my players by their first names, but this time I will. I have nothing that's ever happened to me in life that compares to what happened to you. I guess I'll just come to the point. Has this made it impossible for you to continue as a member of the team?"

"No! Where ever did you get that idea?" Sean asked. "Absolutely not! I have to put it behind me and one of the ways I can do that is to throw myself even more into my athletics. I'm not a quitter. I'll be fine, Coach. My little brother saw to that...

"What I want to talk about it this: I decided I don't want to keep what happened to me a secret from the rest of the team. Coach, those guys are my team mates and my friends. They welcomed me here when they didn't know me from a bag of shit. I missed a mandatory team meeting and I think they have the right to know why. Besides, Dix and Dowls know what happened. I can't go around asking them to keep secrets. That wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't be right."

"Yes... Well, how do you wish to handle this?"

"And another thing, the Police are doing an investigation. They're probably gonna talk to everyone that was at that party. They already asked us for a list of names, you know... Once that starts, then it's just gonna turn into a rumor mill. And that would be really bad. Really, really bad. No, I think it's best the team gets the truth and that they get it directly from me. There's no upside to them not knowing, or finding out from someone else. Anyway, I'd like to have five minutes at the start of practice on Monday to address the team face-to-face."

"Of course. You may have that time. In fact, you can have all the time you need. You're a brave man, Sean. I'm not sure I could do that. And I'd like to tell you, I've seen em come and I've seen em go. You're a leader, son. No one but a real leader would even think of doing that."

"I'm just a guy, Coach, just like everybody else. But I'm also part of a team. And a team has to function as a whole team. I haven't kept secrets from my team mates and I'm not about to start."

"As I said, Mr. Wyman, you are a leader. OK, well, I guess you go ahead and listen to the audio of the meeting later on. They didn't have much to say that concerns you, anyway. I'll see you Monday."

"Thanks, Coach..."

Driving away in his car, Coach Slater shook his head, chuckled a bit and reflected on the remarkable nature of the young man he first met a few short weeks earlier that time in his office. He believed Sean when Sean said he'd be fine.

Sunday, Sean, Andy, Tim and Brett went to the Mall for lunch. They decided to sit at the same table they'd been at that day when the four of them had first met as a group. It was Sean's idea to go, and he made Andy happy by asking Andy to drive. John begged off, saying he had plans with Kathleen.

"OK, guys, here's why I wanted to go grab a bite," Sean said. "Coach came over last night, and I asked him for a few minutes at the start of practice tomorrow so I can tell the team what really happened Friday night."

"You wanna do WHAT?" Tim asked, shocked.

"Yeah, that's what I'm gonna do. Look, the cops are investigating, everyone is gonna wanna know the real reason I wasn't at the meeting Saturday morning, rumors are gonna start no matter what and God only knows what else. I need to make sure everyone hears the real story. And they need to hear it from me, no one else."

"I see what you're saying..." Brett said.

"Jesus, Dowls," Andy cut in. "I thought you were gonna be the Vale-DICK-torian. You can't `see' what someone says. You can only hear it!"

The other three cracked up.

"Leave it to Cass..." Tim said. "OK, Wymo, what's the rest of it, then..."

"I want you guys to tell me if I ever seem, like `off' to you. I'm gonna be honest, this is a mind-fuck. But I'll be OK. I know I will. I figure if I, you know, really work hard on stuff that will keep me busy and if I stay busy that's the best thing I can do right now to put this behind me. I'm going to be depending on the three of you for that, to tell me if you think I get weird or anything."

"Sean," Brett began. "I'm gonna answer for me and Tim because I know Tim'll get tongue-tied and probably break down and cry. We have your back, Sean. Count on it."

"What he said," was all that Tim could manage.

"OK, well that's what I wanted to talk about. I'm glad you guys have my back. I can't do this without you either, Andy. I need you most of all..."

A tear coursed down Andy's cheek. He simply nodded, reaching over and squeezing Sean's hand. Words weren't needed.

"You guys wanna come over for a beer?" Tim asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I could use a beer..." Sean said.

"OK, then let's go!" Andy said.

At the Dicksons, the boys were on the patio. Across the street, Ginny saw the boys pull in and couldn't help but have the feeling something wasn't quite right. She wasn't sure what it was, but something told her to put down the clothes she was packing for London and go check something. In her office, she opened her safe, pulled out a well-worn folder and thumbed through the papers. Satisfied everything was as it should be, she replaced the folder and closed the safe.

George noticed the boys, went to the patio door and motioned to Sean to come in the house. One in, George directed Sean to go in his office. Closing the door, George bade Sean have a seat. "Sean, first of all I want you to know that my entire family is in your corner here. I also want you to know that the Detective conducting this investigation is a personal friend of mine. He's been on the force as long as I've been a Lawyer. We go way back. I need you to know that the investigation has his attention. I also want you to know that as your father and I have discussed this will be kept out of the press."

"Thanks, George. I'll be OK."

"Yes, I believe you will. You're very strong, Sean."

Just then, George's office phone rang. "Hello? Ginny! Sure I'll come over after dinner... 7:30? OK, see you then... Bye."

"Sorry about that, Sean. At any rate, I think we're done here..."

"OK, thanks again, George." Sean stood up and shook George's hand.

Back on the patio, Tim asked what his dad had wanted.

"He was telling me about how the Police are going to investigate the case. Says the Detective assigned to the case is an old friend of his."

"I bet that's Somerville, right?" Tim said.

"Yeah, that's the guy. He came over to the house last night. Seemed like a pretty straight shooter..."

"He's been a good friend of dad's like forever. They've worked together on a lot of cases over the years. I wouldn't be surprised if dad had the Chief assign him to the case."

"Well, that's good. I mean, if Somerville's the guy..." Sean said.

"He'll do the job the right way," Tim said.

The boys finished their beers. Then Sean said he thought it was time to go. He was behind on his homework anyway. And even though he was feeling better, he had a bit of a problem sitting in one place for a while if there was nothing to actively do. He needed to busy his mind.

"Timmy!" Peggy called out. "Are the guys stayin' for dinner now?"

"Nah, mom. I think Andy and Sean were just gonna leave."

"Well, alright then. You guys come back some other time. I love watching you boys stuff yer faces, don'tcha know!"

After dinner, George excused himself to go see what Ginny wanted. Once in Ginny's office, George sat down, sipping the Glenfiddich and water she offered him. Ginny opened her safe, withdrew the folder she'd skimmed through earlier and placed it in a strong box.

"George, I'm gonna give you this box. I'll be in England for two, or three weeks. Not exactly sure the date I'll be back. What I need you to do is take the box and put it in a safe deposit box down at the bank. Not my usual bank, but the Private Bank. I don't want my name as the box holder, either. Put it under your name, or your office's name and send me the bill. The bank is not to retain a key, only you. I also need you to call me right away if anything at all happens to Sean."

"What about Sean..." George asked.

"I don't know..." Ginny said shaking her head, "I just think something's not right and I have this feeling it has to do with him. So, just call me if anything happens and I mean anything at all."

"You're something, Ginny. Always have been."

"George, I remember you when I was in my 20's and you were just a fucking rug rat crawling around on the floor in your dad's office crapping your nappies. Sometimes I just have an intuition. That's all. You're the only person in the world I'd trust with this box. Guard it with your life."

"You got it, Ginny. I'll go over there first thing Monday morning and get it squared away. Until then, it will be in my safe."

"Great. I'll bring something back for you and Peg."

"OK. We'll see you when you get back, Ginny."

"You bet, George."

On Monday, Coach Slater gathered the team as usual at the beginning of practice. "Gentlemen, we'll continue with the skill drills from the last two weeks, and on what we went over on Saturday. I delivered an audio of the meeting to Mr. Wyman Saturday evening, so we should all be ready to go. Before we begin, Mr. Wyman would like to address you. Please give him your attention."

"OK. Guys, I know you're wondering why I wasn't at the meeting Saturday. You're my team mates and I want you to hear the truth about what happened to me Friday night, and I want you to hear it from me. Sometime at the party Friday night a drug was put in my beer. It was a date rape drug. As a result of that I was taken by someone into the basement of my house and I was raped. Whoever did it was a woman because they found vaginal juice. I don't remember any of it and I don't know who did it. I tried to get out of the basement but I couldn't. I was too out of it because of the drugs. I banged on the door, though, and my dad found me. That's when I was taken to the hospital. I woke up Saturday morning and I asked them to release me in time to make the meeting, but they wouldn't.

"The Police asked for a list of everyone that was at the party, so I'd expect you will be contacted at some point if you haven't been already. I wanted to tell you because I owe you guys the truth and because I didn't want rumors to start and then I would have to try to get rid of rumors when everybody wondered why I just didn't tell the story to begin with. So, that's what happened, guys."

The rest of the team stood speechless. Nobody moved. Coach knew how shocked everyone must be, so he asked Sean if he had anything else to say.

"Not about that, but it's practice time, guys, so let's break and have a good practice like we always do. We're playing my old school on Friday and I'd like to make a good showing. Now let's get to work!"

The rest of the guys applauded Sean, slapped him on the back and broke to begin practice. Coach Slater walked up to Sean and slapped him on the back as well. "That took balls, Mr. Wyman. I dunno what to say other than that. Well, as you said, let's get to work!"

At the Quarterback station, Sean and Tim went through their drills. Tim thought Sean did his usual faultless job, but that he seemed like he was a machine. Everything he did seemed to be elevated and done without even thinking about it. Normally a guy that would work smart even if that mean he didn't have to work hard, as his watchword was efficiency, Sean seemed to be pushing himself without limit.

"Hey, bud, you feeling OK?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, Dix, why?" Sean answered.

"It just seems like you're really pushing yourself, that's all."

"Dix, it's gonna take me a while to be back to my old self. What I find is that if I keep busy then I don't think about it. And, you see, if I sat around and thought about it I don't know what would happen. I gotta get through this, and I will. Like J.R. told me, I have to do it for Andy, and dad, and you and all the guys. And for myself. It might take me a few days to get through it, and it might take me a few months. I don't know right now. But this is the only way I know how that seems to work for me."

"OK, Wymo. That makes sense." Tim replied deciding to leave it alone. After all, Sean's answer did make sense and Tim had no experience with this sort of thing, either.

That night after dinner George Dickson called over to the Alamo asking to speak to Andy and Joe on a conference call. Joe and Andy went to Joe's office and put the call on speaker phone.

"Guys," George began, "I've just got word that the Jury in the Braden case has reached a verdict. The Judge said that because of the late hour they've scheduled the reading of the verdict for tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. The Court asked me to obtain a victim's statement in case the verdict is guilty."

"In case?" Andy asked. "You mean you don't know what the verdict is?

"No. No one except the Jury knows at this time. The verdict is sealed, and held by the Bailiff's Office until Court is reconvened tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning, the Judge will ask the Jury if they've reached a verdict. The verdict will be handed to the Judge who will unseal it, read it to himself, hand it to the Bailiff who will give it to the Foreman of the Jury to read aloud to the Court."

"Oh..." Andy said. "I guess that makes sense. So how do I do this victim statement thing?"

"You can video yourself on your phone tonight and send the video to me. I'll make sure it gets to the Court. It doesn't have to be any fancier than that. Like I said before, a victim's statement is not evidence. It's only something the Judge may consider in sentencing if the verdict is guilty."

"How can Andy find out what the verdict is?" Joe asked.

"There should be a live feed from the Court Room. I've already talked to Principal McVay. At 8:55 tomorrow morning, Sean and Andy are to report to the Principal's office so they can watch the proceedings. They can pick up their passes tomorrow in the Attendance Office before school starts."

"Very good," Joe answered. "We'll get to work on the statement and send it over to you tonight, George."

"Appreciate it," George said. "Talk to you later."

"Andy, go get Sean," Joe said.

After a few moments, both boys returned to Joe's office, Andy having found Sean working intently on his Advanced Algebra and Trig, again keeping himself busy.

"OK, Sean," Joe began. "George just called and he needs a victim's statement from Andy. I'd like you two to write one out on paper. Keep it short and to the point, but make it powerful. Come get me when you're done, I'll check it over and then Sean you can record Andy. Andy, you send it to George after that."

"OK, Sean-o, let's get this done. I dunno where to start though..."

"And, I'd start with my most powerful statement if I were you. Here, gimme the pad and pen..."

Sean began scribbling furiously. After a short while he stopped and handed the pad back to Andy. "Here, read this out loud."

Andy took the pad and began:

"My name is Andrew Churchill. I've been asked if I cared to make a statement in the matter before the Court.

"I do.

"My statement follows now:

"Today is a day I can't help to think that I wasn't meant to see.

"I'm only sixteen years old, a Junior in High School with my whole life in front of me, but not long ago that was almost taken from me.

"I know that the accused had no hand in what happened physically to me. Others face trial for that. But I also know, and so does the Court has after hearing all of the evidence, that he had knowledge of it and did nothing either to stop it, or to aid the authorities in their search for justice.

"That is the simple truth, and that is why he stood trial before you.

"If I were a vengeful person I would ask the Court to sentence Mr. Braden to the maximum for his crime.

"But I am not a vengeful person. Vengeance is reserved for the Lord.

"I do believe, however, that jail time is called for here. One, or two years before release seems appropriate to me. I also believe that during that time Mr. Braden should be required to satisfactorily complete counseling in order that he knows what he did he shall never do again.

"I've already forgiven Mr. Braden, but I have not forgotten. Nor am I ever likely to.

"I'm going to close by addressing the following directly to Mr. Braden: We were never friends; we weren't even acquaintances. I never knew you and you never knew me. I won't pretend to know why you did what you did and honestly I'm not interested to know.

"But the Piper's come to the door now, and he's demanding to be paid. No one else but you can pay him. And it's a bill that must be paid.

"You will likely have ample time to reflect on your actions, and I hope you do so.

"Thank you."

Sean had tears running down his face as Andy closed. "I had to write that, Brown Eyes. I think it helped me, if that's OK. I know this is about you, but it's about us, too. It just all came out on the paper like I was taking a dump."

"I think it's perfect, Sean-o. I'm not changing a word. Let's see what dad thinks..."

Joe read it over, and also said it was perfect. Just the right length, hit what it needed to hit and didn't make the common mistake of having the audience wish the speaker would hurry up and finish.

Sean recorded Andy reading the statement, which Andy did almost without having to refer to it.

Afterward Sean sent it to George.

At 8:55 Tuesday morning, Andy and Sean dutifully trod the halls of the high school to Principal McVay's office and were ushered into the inner office.

"Please close the door, guys, and have a seat. I've got my laptop here on the live feed from the Court House. Sorry it can't be a real TV, but smart TV's aren't in my budget."

The camera panned to where the Bailiff was entering the Courtroom. "All rise!" the Bailiff called out, proceeding to open the session.

Judge Fitzgerald strode in, took his place on the bench, and addressed the Foreman of the Jury. "Have the Jury reached a verdict, Mr. Foreman?"

"We have, your Honor."

"Please hand the verdict to the Bailiff."

Judge Fitzgerald took the verdict from the Bailiff, read it, handed it back and it was returned to the Foreman.

"Will the Defendant please rise!" Judge Fitzgerald instructed. "In the matter before the Court, how say you, Mr. Foreman?"

"The Defendant is guilty, your Honor."

In Janesville, Andy and Sean watched in silence.

"So say you, Mr. Foreman?"

"Yes."

"So say you all?" Judge Fitzgerald asked of the entire Jury.

"So say we all," the Jury replied in unison.

"Does the State have anything further for the Court?" the Judge asked.

"The Court has a victim statement obtained from Mr. Andrew Churchill that we ask your Honor will allow to be viewed at this time."

"Proceed, Mr. District Attorney."

As the statement played, tears ran down Sean's face. Andy watched, staring at the laptop screen, remaining stock-still. It appeared to both of them that Mark Braden had no reaction at all. "Does the defense have anything at this time?" Judge Fitzgerald inquired.

"No, your Honor," Attorney Shapiro answered.

"Very well. The Jury has spoken. You stand guilty, Mr. Braden. The Court does not feel it is necessary to schedule a separate sentencing hearing. Sentencing shall take place now. Mr. Braden, it is the opinion of this Court that as reprehensible as your actions were you received the wise advice of an acquaintance to come clean before it was too late and you failed to do so. The Court can only conclude that at minimum up until the time of your arrest you had no remorse for your actions. The Court is uncertain if you are remorseful now, and frankly the Court is uninterested. You are hereby sentenced you to two years in prison at the Jackson Correctional Institution at Black River Falls. The Court hereby orders that while you are there you obtain your GED certificate within one year and that you undergo psychiatric counseling. Your two years shall be credited for time already served, and you shall be eligible for parole in one year provided that the other components of your sentence have been met. These proceedings are now closed." The Judge then brought his gavel down. Braden appeared emotionless as he was taken away by two Sheriff's Deputies.

As they closed the laptop, Sean still had tears in his eyes. "Why the tears, Blondie?" Andy asked.

"I dunno. I think watching this was therapeutic for me on some level. It hit home about the need to move on. And the funny thing is part of that was something I wrote myself. I wasn't thinking of myself when I wrote it, but it applies to me just the same. I'm working through it, hun..."

"I know you are, and I won't push you. We can go at whatever pace you need to go at. I'm not going anywhere."

Sean leaned over and gave Andy a peck on the lips. "Thanks."

The remainder of the week passed fairly normally. Andy and Brett were making plans on what to do with and how to run the bullied kids place, which is all they'd been calling it up to this point. They had to pick a name for it, with which they had some trouble. Both agreed they didn't want anything that sounded namby-pamby, or corny. Andy one time said, "Hey I have it! Let's call it `Bright Tomorrows Every One Gets a Trophy You're Special and I'm Offended Center for Wellness and Vegan Shit Food.'" Brett cracked up laughing, pretending to stick his finger down his throat. "That's over the top even for those kind of people..."

Finally, they settled on simply using the name of the LLC the building was to be owned by, which was "Main Rock Enterprises, LLC." It suited their sensibilities. It was non-specific in case someone would be looking for trouble, it was businesslike and it lent itself well to signage. They also knew they'd need to gather resources such as counselors, physicians and so forth. It would be a slow process, but hopefully once the building was done they could be up and running within a month, or so, and gaining experience. Andy turned to Brett, saying, "Hey, you know how everything seems to be connected in this town and all? Well, I was thinking, let's see if George and Ginny can help us out with referrals for shrinks and Doctors and stuff. I'd see if we couldn't work it in some way where it might be tax-advantageous to those kind of people..."

"Did you just say `tax-advantageous?'" Brett said, looking at Andy as if he had three heads.

"Yeah, what's it to ya..."

"Well, keep on talking like that and YOU might be next year's Vale-DICK-torian. You've already got the middle syllable down, anyway..."

"Very fucking funny, Poindexter... You know what, Dowling? For a fucking nerd you're sure a smartass sometimes..."

"Tim doesn't think I'm a nerd when I'm cornholing him..." Brett laughed.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. You're supposed to be the great CORNHOLIO over there... Jesus, that was a fucking riot. We gotta get you stoned again sometime. I wish I would have made a vid and put it on YouTube. And then you pestered the shit out of everyone for fucking fudgsicles..."

"OKOKOK, so you guys had some fun at my expense..." Brett laughed.

"I'm glad you wanna help me with this, Brett. It's nice not to have to do it myself. I'm glad you're my friend."

"Well, we can thank your fine crutch skills for that now can't we..."

"Yeah, that's one we'll never forget. Anyway, don't forget we all gotta go over there on Saturday to check out the basement..."

"Nope, won't forget!"

"Jesus, I kinda wanna get the Tremper game out of the way. With everything that's happened, I hope it doesn't take too much of a toll on Sean-o..."

"Are you worried about him?"

"I dunno, I mean on the surface no, but it's only been less than a week. He seems to always have to keep himself busy with stuff. I can tell if he's just sitting down doing nothing that's hard on him."

"How's his sexual appetite been since?"

"We haven't had sex since then, but at night he wants me to spoon him. I do think he's gonna be OK< though."

"Well, he knows you love him. He's been violated. That's gonna fuck anyone over. I guess for now, just keep him busy. Maybe on weekends he could help the contracting crew over here, I dunno, I mean it's just an idea..."

"That's not a bad idea at all. Why don't you suggest it to him if you can work it into a conversation?"

"OK, I'll do that. I won't tell Tim about your idea because he might just blurt it out. You know, this has really done a number on Tim. He's cried a lot about it. He loves Sean, you know..."

"Yeah, I know he does. Sean loves Tim, too. He really does. Tim was so kind to us when we first came here. He could have been a dick if he wanted, you know... I mean, him and Sean are both Quarterbacks and all. He mighta thought Sean was gonna steal his position. But he never acted that way, he was just this big-hearted guy..."

"That's Tim, alright..."

Finally, Friday came and it was time for the team to board the busses for the trip to Kenosha. Andy was surprised that Sean didn't seem nervous, or out-of-sorts at all. In fact, he seemed to be absolutely serene.

Coach's pre-game speech as short, reminding the team that this was a non-conference game, and while not counting in the conference standings ordinarily, could have the potential to count if need be as a tie- breaker at the end of the season. He admonished his men to have fun that night, but also to win. Truth be told, the Cougars weren't too worried about Tremper who had compiled a 1-3 record so far compared to Craig's 4-0.

The team disembarked the busses and made their way to the locker room to dress out, then to the field for pre-game warmups. Sean was surprised when Coach Johnson came over to him during warmups.

"Mr. Wyman," the old Coach said, "Welcome back to Kenosha, at least for tonight. I've watched a few clips of you playing this year. You're impressive. Very impressive. Just take it a little easy on us, tonight, will ya?"

"Thanks," Sean replied. "Sometimes I wish things could have worked out differently, but they didn't. It's like the old saying goes, it is what it is. You believed in me when almost no one else did, and I'll never forget that, Coach." Sean reached out to shake the crusty old man's hand. Coach Johnson simply shook his head, drew Sean into a bro hug, slapped him on the back and said, "I wish you all the best, son. All the best."

It was time for the teams to be introduced. Being a non-conference game seventy miles from home, there were only about a third as many Craig fans in the stands as for a normal away game and as a result of that the applause as each team member was introduced was sparse. At last the announcer came to the end of the Cougar roster, "And finally, starting at Quarterback tonight for the Cougars, at 6'1" and 189 pounds, Number 2, Sean Wyman!"

The noise from the crowd was many times louder than for the other Craig players. Sean was taken aback and looked up to see...

END CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Next: Chapter 29


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