CARTER'S SHADOW
Chapter 10 - By Christopher Patrick Lydon
He realized he was stalking Blake. Well it wasn't really stalking;
he was just doing his best to catch glimpses of the other student in the most
innocuous method possible. He would find a bulletin board and pretend to read
it, watching as Blake chatted with some of his friends. Or stop to talk to
a teammate when Blake would start fishing around in his locker.
Why? Well he couldn't really answer that, it was an insatiable
curiosity. A way to see whatever it was Matt had seen. So far West had picked
up on no indication whatsoever that the young senior was gay.
Sure Blake was a little effeminate, dressed in a black shirt
and black jeans. It wasn't that he was particularly girlish, or outwardly
"gay" in that stereotypical manner, not at all. Blake was just a
little on the lean side, with sharply intelligent eyes, and a grace to his
motions that most guys lacked.
"You thinking of signing up?" Matt asked him, leaning
on the bulletin board.
"Huh?" West asked, blinking and turning to his friend.
"Well, you're staring at the sign-up sheet for Women's
Junior Softball League," Matt pointed out with a grin. "You know,
you have the subtlety of a brick sometimes." He grinned leaning around
West to look at where Blake was chatting to a couple of girls leaning on his
locker, pushing a hand through his dark brown/black hair and smiling shyly.
"Ah, now I see."
"Shut up," West replied, turning a little red.
"Someone should have told you that the newly minted captain
of the team, on his first day in 'office' isn't exactly someone that can sneak
about without being noticed." Matt grinned, "Besides, he waits till
you aren't looking to look at you anyway."
"Right," West bit back folding his arms, "so
how am I supposed to find out if you're telling the truth, or just setting
me up?"
"Setting you up?" Matt grinned. "So you are interested
in Blake."
"I didn't say that..." West backpedaled frantically.
"Uh-huh," Matt grinned at his best friend. "So
you want to talk to him?"
"No," West replied adamantly, "I just... I want
to figure this out first, ok?"
"Sure," Matt replied, putting up his hands as West
grabbed his arm and the two of them started walking back for the lobby, finding
their way to one of the tables that spilled out of the cafeteria and filled
the area with extra places to sit.
"How about here?" Matt said pulling back a chair and
sitting down.
"Hey West," Jenny-Lynn said, as she turned from the
next table and smiled prettily as West sat down. She and Mel were sitting
eating their lunch, a couple of the cheerleaders around them.
"Hey," West replied, as he glared across to where
Matt was sitting smugly leaning back into his chair, as if loving the show
that played out in front of him, delighting in West's discomfort.
"Congratulations on becoming captain," she said, bouncing
her chair around so she joined their table without invitation. Mel leaned
around, still holding her sandwich and wondering how she had suddenly become
so much chopped liver.
Matt slid his chair and gestured at the space he had made for
her to sit next to him, and Mel rolled her eyes as she joined them at the
table. "Yeah, congratulations," Mel said as she sat down.
"Thanks," West replied, reaching up to brush his fingers
over the C on his jacket. His mother had done a good job of sewing it on,
and it felt strange, like there was this impossible weight attached to a simple
patch.
"Brad's still out today," Mel commented idly. "Wonder
how he's doing."
West nodded, feeling guilty that he hadn't heard anything from
Brad at all; but then he hadn't been home the night before, he had been busy
getting his leg humped by his best friend.... He had to try to hide a smirk
at the memory of Matt's face when he had...
A sharp kick to his shins made him jump. "Hey!" he
commented, banging his knees on the table causing everyone to jump.
"Sorry," Matt replied innocently, and his eyes slid
a fraction of a millimetre to the right.
West caught the motion, and as he rubbed his shin he turned
slightly to look at Blake who was sitting on the steps to the auditorium with
a spiral notebook balanced on his knees writing away furiously.
"You okay?" Jenny asked.
"Yeah," West sat back down. "Asshole over there
kicked me."
"You were daydreaming," Matt replied with a grin.
West shook his head, "Yeah, remind me to kick your ass
later." He sat forward and frowned to himself; Blake had been heading
to the other end of the school, and unless he had changed his mind, there
really was no reason for him to have doubled back to sit on the steps.
* * *
"Your homework assignments," Mister Greenwood leaned
on his podium, "were disappointing." He held up a stack of papers
in his hand. "Morality is a pivotal theme in Shakespeare, and it seems
that many of you chose to focus on the relationship in the play. Now, in plays
such as Romeo and Juliet and Much Ado About Nothing, the love theme takes
the forefront, in this play it's the subplot."
"I disagree." West had said it before he had caught
himself.
"Would you care to defend your stance?" Greenwood
asked taking a step forward, an eager light in his eyes when he realized a
student was actually going to debate him.
"Yes sir," West replied. "Winning the hand of
the fair Portia is the whole reason Bassanio asks Antonio for the loan. It
is Antonio's fondness of his friend that has him go to Shylock, and start
the whole mess in the first place. It is Portia's love for Bassanio that has
her acting as a lawyer to protect his mentor... Sure morality is important,
but you can't ignore one plot in favour of another."
"I agree," Blake said from further up the auditorium.
"The ring given to Shylock in his bachelor days by his wife--when he
discovers that Jessica has stolen it and traded it for a monkey, you get to
see Shylock in a vulnerable position, more human than just a stereotype. It's
an important symbol of his humanity, his ability to love and for him to grieve."
"Interesting;" Greenwood said, "an obscure reference,
no more than five lines in the play, but good..." He held up the papers,
"So you two have two very strong hypotheses, so I have one further question
for you both, why didn't you write that in these papers?"
"I..." West blinked.
"Well..." Blake chewed on his lip.
"And so again we're back to the original statement that
these papers were disappointing," Greenwood said with a dry smile. "So
I think I am going to give them back to you, pair you all up and let you write
your papers again. Consider these," he held up the papers, "a trial
run. They say two heads are better than one, let's see you use them."
Jenny-Lynn turned to West expectantly, but West was already
up and out of his seat, crossing the floor of partnering-up students who were
talking boisterously, trying to find a partner they could work with and have
fun doing it.
He capped Blake's aisle in the auditorium, and the young man
looked up, his head cocking to one side as he smiled. "Hello, Captain,"
he said; his voice wasn't accented, he just preferred to pronounce each word
fully, carefully, in an educated manner.
"Hey," West replied, leaning to sit on the back of
the row of chairs behind him. "I was wondering if you had a partner for
this assignment."
Blake contemplated it, his hand pushing closed the cover of
his notebook. "I thought you would have teamed up with Jenny-Lynn."
Blake nodded across the auditorium where Jenny-Lynn was watching them, talking
to Mel.
West glanced over and then back. "Well, it seems you and
I have similar thoughts on how this paper should go; maybe we should,"
he shrugged, "combine our super powers to fight evil."
Blake took off his glasses, folding them as he slipped them
into his shirt pocket, resting his hand on the arm of the chair as he smiled,
"All right, Captain Condor."
West grinned, "Careful or I may have to start calling you
the Gothic Avenger."
"I always wanted to be a plucky sidekick," Blake replied
shifting in his seat. "Tonight after school then?"
"I have practice," West said with a shrug, "but
after that."
"I suppose I can sit through your practice," Blake
mused, adjusting his papers, "though I don't do the pom-pom thing."
West nodded, "Cool, I'll catch you later then."
"Definitely," Blake replied, as West returned to where
Jenny-Lynn was talking to Mel.
"What's with that?" Mel asked boldly sitting in his
seat.
"We have similar ideas about the play," West replied.
"I figure, team up and maybe we can teach old Greenwood a thing or two."
"Oh will you now?" Greenwood pressed the original
paper West had written back into his hands, "I look forward to seeing
what my two top students will come out with." He handed Mel and Jenny-Lynn
their papers, "Though I learned never to discount the X chromosome. "
He smiled at the two girls, "Your paper could easily give them a run
for their money if you take Mel's feminism ideas and combine them with Jenny-Lynn's
traditional values..."
"Hey, isn't that cheating, giving them help like that?"
West accused.
"I like them more than you," Greenwood replied with
a smile and a wink to the two girls, as he carried on handing out the papers.
West shook his head as he sat back down a seat over from Mel,
flipping through his paper and glancing up to where Blake was sitting doing
the same with him.
* * *
Practice had dragged; since the team had changed, it meant that
the lines had to be redone. And he had to learn what it meant to lead the
first line. Learn the plays and styles of his teammates all over again, this
time with the eye of a team captain.
Coach Highmore was patient, catching West occasionally and drawing
his attention to things he needed to be aware of. How the plays were going,
what his team needed from him, and West bobbed his head following Highmore's
pointers dutifully.
Matt slid past him at one point, stopping as the rest of the
team were taking slap shots and clapping West on the helmet with the end of
his stick, "I see you have a fan." He grinned and skated off laughing,
as West glanced over his shoulder to the section of the stands where Blake
was sitting sipping a coffee wrapped in his heavy trench coat watching the
practice.
Highmore ground to a halt. "Are you going to join us, Mister
Harding?" he asked, starting West from his staring.
"Y-yes, Coach," West said, skating off to join the
line. Highmore skated a lazy circle around him, the coach giving West a knowing
look as he glanced up at the lone spectator.
Practice had eventually concluded, and West had deliberately
stayed a few shower heads down from Matt, who grinned at him playfully as
he soaped himself up. West shook his head at his friend as he towelled off
and got dressed again, hoping to slip out, grab Blake and be out of the arena
before anyone else could tease him.
Blake was waiting for him as he came out into the main lobby
of the arena, West lugging the impossibly large hockey bag over a shoulder
as he juggled his sticks.
"Need a hand?" Blake asked, a warm smile on his face.
West grinned. The bag was easily as big as Blake was, and probably
about as heavy and there was no way the scrawny sixteen-year-old could manage
it. He smiled, though, and handed him his sticks as they made their way out
into the parking lot.
The familiar black Jeep was parked there, and West got his first
look at the man he presumed was Coach Highmore's lover, the mysterious Will.
The man was tall, with careless hair that seemed to prefer to
do its own thing rather than conform to any particular style. He was polishing
his glasses on his tie, leaning against the brush bar of the Jeep keeping
his tired eyes on the doors.
The first impression West had of Will was sadness, and he met
the stranger's eyes with his own and nodded to him. The older man glanced
down at the C on his jacket and then over to Blake, a faint ghost of a smile
touching his face as he returned the nod.
"I'm parked over there," West said, gesturing for
Blake's benefit.
Coach Highmore came out of the arena, loading his equipment
into the Jeep, and calling out to West, "Hey Harding, over here a second."
West stopped and turned, he and Blake backtracking a second,
as the coach smiled at them both, "Yeah, Coach?"
"You did well today at practice," Highmore stated
glancing at Will. "I haven't introduced you--Will Carter, West Harding."
West shook hands with the other man who gripped his hand warmly,
"Nice to meet you, West," Will stated in a warm British accent.
"Yeah, you too," West replied smiling, and glancing
at Blake who was standing uncertainly, "though you used to teach me English
back in Grade Seven..."
Will frowned and glanced at Highmore, before looking back, "West...
Wesley Harding, right? In the same class as Peter?"
"Yes, sir," West replied, "you taught us Richard
the Third."
West smiled again, nodding. "Did you learn something?"
he asked.
"Actually, that's where Blake and I are going, to write
a paper on Shakespeare." West turned slightly, "Uhh, Blake, this
is Mister Carter, he was my Grade Seven English teacher."
"Well, I was teaching as part of a co-op program,"
Will explained, leaning back against his Jeep, a hand slipping into his pocket,
knowing that Blake was probably surprised that someone as young as Will was
could have been teaching nearly six years ago.
"Nice to meet you, sir," Blake said formally, shaking
Will's hand and inclining himself for a small bow as he did so.
"Well, we should get going," Will said turning to
Highmore.
West nodded as he gestured for Blake to follow him, the two
crossing to the Bronco and loading his stuff into it.
Will remained standing a moment, staring after the pair as he
leaned over to Highmore, "Déjà vu?"
Highmore chuckled, climbing into the Jeep and watching Blake
getting into West's truck, "I could trade you in for a younger model."
"Careful," Will replied getting into his side of the
Jeep, "I see a dashing young captain of the team there..."
"He's not your type," Highmore said as they watched
the Bronco pull out onto the road, "you prefer older guys."
"True," Will said with a smile. "How was practice?"
"Good," Highmore replied. "How was work?"
Will suddenly looked tired and shrugged, "It was work...
we should get back..."
Highmore spared a concerned look at Will, but held back on his
comment, settling in for the drive back home. He wondered when they had grown
up, and stopped being two kids in love. "I love you," he said, turning
to Will and smiling.
"I know," Will replied quietly, lost to his own thoughts
as he drove.
