had been a change concerning homecoming weekend. As captain, Luke was supposed to escort Julie Faircloth, who was the team's candidate for queen, onto the field for the pre-game ceremony. But Coach Martin said Tim Speight would take her instead.
Luke wanted an explanation, and Coach Martin said he hated to be blunt, but the fact was that Julie's father was the mayor. He wanted someone from a prominent family to escort his daughter since there would be pictures in the paper, the school annual, and so forth. Luke understood then because he had put up with snubs all his life. Mayor Faircloth did not want his daughter escorted and photographed with Orlena Ballard's bastard son.
Luke had said it didn't matter to him, then took out the rage boiling inside by playing his guts out at the homecoming game.
He hogged the ball, even running when the play called for him to pass. He got tackled a lot and fumbled a few times. Some of his teammates got annoyed and accused him of show-boating, but the final score shut them up. The Hampton High Bulldogs won 49-0, and Luke had scored every touchdown.
Vengeance had been sweet. So many pictures of Luke were plastered on the front page of the Hampton Herald that coverage of the homecoming ceremonies was reduced to one paragraph announcing Julie had been crowned queen with no room for a photo.
The bus rolled by the Bulldog Cafe, and Luke imagined he could still see the blood on the sidewalk from that summer night in '56. He had taken Judy Turnage to the movies and had enough money left over from his week's pay as a bag boy at the A&P to buy her a burger and a Coke. But when they got to the cafe, Rudy Veazey was there, mad as hell to see Judy out with Luke, because he had been dating her.
Just then Rudy spotted Luke's mother riding by with Junior Kearney in his pickup truck and yelled to ask Luke how come his last name wasn't Kearney since everybody in town figured Junior was his daddy. Luke was furious but ignored Rudy's insults and steered Judy on inside. Then, just before the door closed after them, Rudy laughed to his buddies that maybe Luke should be called Luke Heinz instead, like in Heinz-57, since his whore-momma probably screwed fifty-seven guys the night she got knocked up.
Luke had whirled about so fast his hand missed the doorknob and went through the glass instead. A lot of the blood spilled on the sidewalk that night was probably his, but most of it had to have been Rudy's by the time Luke finished with him. They were both arrested for fighting but let off with a stern lecture. They had hated each other's guts ever since.
Luke didn't look for trouble, but he didn't run from a fight either. Yeah, he had worn his hair long back then. A "DA" it was called. Duck's ass slicked back and plastered with Vitalis. But he was no punk. And his mother was no whore.
Sure, she had been Junior's woman for a long time. What other choice did she have when her folks kicked her out, pregnant, with no place to go? But when Junior tossed her aside after she lost her looks because of heavy drinking and hard work, he had let her keep on working at the motor court. She cleaned cabins, and she also worked as a waitress in the cafe. She didn't mess with other men, no matter what folks said.
Passing the park, Luke was reminded of another slight, the Easter he was nine years old when his mother dyed a basket of eggs and took him there for the annual egg hunt. The ladies in charge had turned as many colors as the eggs scattered in the grass when they saw Orlena and her bastard kid in tow. It had been Ramona Hampton—Mrs. Cleve Hampton, herself—who had curtly told Orlena that they had way too many children, and, goodness, she was so sorry.
Luke remembered how his mother had blinked back humiliated tears as she squeezed his hand and whispered to him that it didn't matter and turned to lead him away. But Luke had hung back just long enough to snatch an egg out of the basket and sail it through the air to
Luke wanted an explanation, and Coach Martin said he hated to be blunt, but the fact was that Julie's father was the mayor. He wanted someone from a prominent family to escort his daughter since there would be pictures in the paper, the school annual, and so forth. Luke understood then because he had put up with snubs all his life. Mayor Faircloth did not want his daughter escorted and photographed with Orlena Ballard's bastard son.
Luke had said it didn't matter to him, then took out the rage boiling inside by playing his guts out at the homecoming game.
He hogged the ball, even running when the play called for him to pass. He got tackled a lot and fumbled a few times. Some of his teammates got annoyed and accused him of show-boating, but the final score shut them up. The Hampton High Bulldogs won 49-0, and Luke had scored every touchdown.
Vengeance had been sweet. So many pictures of Luke were plastered on the front page of the Hampton Herald that coverage of the homecoming ceremonies was reduced to one paragraph announcing Julie had been crowned queen with no room for a photo.
The bus rolled by the Bulldog Cafe, and Luke imagined he could still see the blood on the sidewalk from that summer night in '56. He had taken Judy Turnage to the movies and had enough money left over from his week's pay as a bag boy at the A&P to buy her a burger and a Coke. But when they got to the cafe, Rudy Veazey was there, mad as hell to see Judy out with Luke, because he had been dating her.
Just then Rudy spotted Luke's mother riding by with Junior Kearney in his pickup truck and yelled to ask Luke how come his last name wasn't Kearney since everybody in town figured Junior was his daddy. Luke was furious but ignored Rudy's insults and steered Judy on inside. Then, just before the door closed after them, Rudy laughed to his buddies that maybe Luke should be called Luke Heinz instead, like in Heinz-57, since his whore-momma probably screwed fifty-seven guys the night she got knocked up.
Luke had whirled about so fast his hand missed the doorknob and went through the glass instead. A lot of the blood spilled on the sidewalk that night was probably his, but most of it had to have been Rudy's by the time Luke finished with him. They were both arrested for fighting but let off with a stern lecture. They had hated each other's guts ever since.
Luke didn't look for trouble, but he didn't run from a fight either. Yeah, he had worn his hair long back then. A "DA" it was called. Duck's ass slicked back and plastered with Vitalis. But he was no punk. And his mother was no whore.
Sure, she had been Junior's woman for a long time. What other choice did she have when her folks kicked her out, pregnant, with no place to go? But when Junior tossed her aside after she lost her looks because of heavy drinking and hard work, he had let her keep on working at the motor court. She cleaned cabins, and she also worked as a waitress in the cafe. She didn't mess with other men, no matter what folks said.
Passing the park, Luke was reminded of another slight, the Easter he was nine years old when his mother dyed a basket of eggs and took him there for the annual egg hunt. The ladies in charge had turned as many colors as the eggs scattered in the grass when they saw Orlena and her bastard kid in tow. It had been Ramona Hampton—Mrs. Cleve Hampton, herself—who had curtly told Orlena that they had way too many children, and, goodness, she was so sorry.
Luke remembered how his mother had blinked back humiliated tears as she squeezed his hand and whispered to him that it didn't matter and turned to lead him away. But Luke had hung back just long enough to snatch an egg out of the basket and sail it through the air to
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