“Is there another school that has football?” I ask. “Not within fifty miles. We have soccer, cross-country, and wrestling,” Mrs. Wood offers. “Soccer? I can’t get a football scholarship to OU playing soccer.” “Alan has wanted to play football for the University of Oklahoma forever,” Mom explains before turning her attention back to me. “Alan, let’s make the best of this.” It wasn’t my idea to come to Maine. Maine? Really, who moves to Maine? Besides my mom, who brought us up here to live with my aunt and cousin now that they are husband- and fatherless. Nobody came to live with us just because I was fatherless, and I’ve been that way all my life. “Whatever.” It’s the best concession I can offer. “Put me in cross-country. Do you at least have track in the spring?” “Yes.” Mrs. Wood almost fist-pumps, she’s so happy. She puts me in cross-country and track as the computer vomits out the page that is my schedule of classes. “Thank you.” Mom is all consolatory smiles. “We just got here over the weekend. My sister’s husband was recently killed— well, lost at sea, I guess. He owned a fishing boat and . . .” “Oh, the Dawn Greeter.” Realization fi lls Mrs. Wood’s dark eyes. She looks at me and asks, “So, you’re Courtney’s cousin?” “Yeah.” “She’s a sweet girl,” Mrs. Wood promises. I don’t really know if she is or not. I saw Courtney for a few minutes last night, but other than that we’ve only met twice in our lives. “It was a citywide tragedy when the boat was lost. All the crew was from here in town. Three of our students, including Courtney, lost fathers.”
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