Read Online The Farewell Season by Ann Herrick - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ann Herrick
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know a recorder would be more efficient, but I like to write things down. Okay, so why a linebacker?"
"A linebacker has to be smart, about football anyway. He has to figure out what the other team's offense is going to do, then react to it."
"The brains of the outfit?" Glynnie grinned.
"Well … yeah. Dad …." I took a gulp of lemonade. "Dad said I was smart, and that with him helping me study other teams—he played college football—I could be good at the position. He arranged for me to go to a summer football camp. There were a lot of big guys there that I had to play against. It was nothing but football, football, football for an entire week. By the end I discovered I could block some of the monsters who'd laughed when they first saw how small I was. It gave me confidence. I've grown some since then, taller, if not a lot heavier."
"Your father was a big influence, then?"
I was caught off guard by her voice. It was as if I'd forgotten she was there. "I …. Look, my Dad … it's still pretty private for me." The words would not come out easily. "I'll get it straightened out … someday. But I don't want to talk about him too much."
"Okay. Not everything you say is for the record."
There was kind of an awkward silence. Glynnie put down her pad. "Let's take a break, go for a walk or something."
I didn't want to go home, not with Lindquist sitting at the table with Mom. "Okay."
We took off with no destination in mind. A warm breeze brushed our faces with the heavy perfume of summer.
"Mmm." Glynnie took a deep breath of the fragrant air. "What smells so nice?"
"It's the Damask roses." I pointed to the small pink flowers growing through the picket fence just ahead.
Glynnie ran up and buried her nose in a loose cluster of the roses. "Ahhhhh …."
"Here." I picked one and handed it to Glynnie. "Mrs. Tollef won't mind. She's always giving away flowers."
Glynnie tucked the rose behind her ear and pirouetted with the grace of a ballerina. The rose clashed with her blunt haircut and no-nonsense horn-rimmed glasses. I tried to picture her with long flowing hair, but that didn't seem right either.
"You know," Glynnie said, "when we left Boston I wasn't sure how I'd feel about living here. But there are some advantages to a small town."
"It's been a nice place to grow up," I said. "Everyone knows everyone."
"That's funny." Glynnie cocked her head as she looked at me.
"Funny?"
"People our age are supposed to hate their home towns."
"It's the kids who think they're 'stuck' here forever who hate it. I figure I have a choice."
"Oh? Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?"
"I want to go to college, play football."
"What about after that?"
"After that?" Once I would've thought four years was forever. Now I knew it would disappear as fast as the rose in Glynnie's hair would wilt. "A shot at pro football. Otherwise, no clue."
"What about drawing?"
"Drawing?"
"Like that cartoon you did for the school paper."
"I was just messin' around."
"Really? I think you should take it more seriously."
I shrugged.
"Follow your dreams." Glynnie shook her finger at me.
"Yeah, sure …." What dreams? Besides going to college and playing four more years of football, and maybe, if I was completely lucky, some pro ball, I didn't know what I wanted.
We came to an intersection. I couldn't believe we'd walked as far as Montana Street. I saw a chance to change the subject. "Let's go see how much they've set up for the Scandinavian Fair."
"Okay," Glynnie said as we crossed the street. "What's this fair like, anyway?"
"Everyone runs around in Scandinavian costumes, selling Scandinavian food and crafts, and providing Scandinavian music, storytelling and folk dancing in a Scandinavian setting."
"Thus, the name Scandinavian Fair," Glynnie said with a straight face.
"Your powers of deductive reasoning are amazing." I tried to match her serious expression.
Glynnie's lips almost curved into a smile. "I didn't make High Honor Roll
"A linebacker has to be smart, about football anyway. He has to figure out what the other team's offense is going to do, then react to it."
"The brains of the outfit?" Glynnie grinned.
"Well … yeah. Dad …." I took a gulp of lemonade. "Dad said I was smart, and that with him helping me study other teams—he played college football—I could be good at the position. He arranged for me to go to a summer football camp. There were a lot of big guys there that I had to play against. It was nothing but football, football, football for an entire week. By the end I discovered I could block some of the monsters who'd laughed when they first saw how small I was. It gave me confidence. I've grown some since then, taller, if not a lot heavier."
"Your father was a big influence, then?"
I was caught off guard by her voice. It was as if I'd forgotten she was there. "I …. Look, my Dad … it's still pretty private for me." The words would not come out easily. "I'll get it straightened out … someday. But I don't want to talk about him too much."
"Okay. Not everything you say is for the record."
There was kind of an awkward silence. Glynnie put down her pad. "Let's take a break, go for a walk or something."
I didn't want to go home, not with Lindquist sitting at the table with Mom. "Okay."
We took off with no destination in mind. A warm breeze brushed our faces with the heavy perfume of summer.
"Mmm." Glynnie took a deep breath of the fragrant air. "What smells so nice?"
"It's the Damask roses." I pointed to the small pink flowers growing through the picket fence just ahead.
Glynnie ran up and buried her nose in a loose cluster of the roses. "Ahhhhh …."
"Here." I picked one and handed it to Glynnie. "Mrs. Tollef won't mind. She's always giving away flowers."
Glynnie tucked the rose behind her ear and pirouetted with the grace of a ballerina. The rose clashed with her blunt haircut and no-nonsense horn-rimmed glasses. I tried to picture her with long flowing hair, but that didn't seem right either.
"You know," Glynnie said, "when we left Boston I wasn't sure how I'd feel about living here. But there are some advantages to a small town."
"It's been a nice place to grow up," I said. "Everyone knows everyone."
"That's funny." Glynnie cocked her head as she looked at me.
"Funny?"
"People our age are supposed to hate their home towns."
"It's the kids who think they're 'stuck' here forever who hate it. I figure I have a choice."
"Oh? Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?"
"I want to go to college, play football."
"What about after that?"
"After that?" Once I would've thought four years was forever. Now I knew it would disappear as fast as the rose in Glynnie's hair would wilt. "A shot at pro football. Otherwise, no clue."
"What about drawing?"
"Drawing?"
"Like that cartoon you did for the school paper."
"I was just messin' around."
"Really? I think you should take it more seriously."
I shrugged.
"Follow your dreams." Glynnie shook her finger at me.
"Yeah, sure …." What dreams? Besides going to college and playing four more years of football, and maybe, if I was completely lucky, some pro ball, I didn't know what I wanted.
We came to an intersection. I couldn't believe we'd walked as far as Montana Street. I saw a chance to change the subject. "Let's go see how much they've set up for the Scandinavian Fair."
"Okay," Glynnie said as we crossed the street. "What's this fair like, anyway?"
"Everyone runs around in Scandinavian costumes, selling Scandinavian food and crafts, and providing Scandinavian music, storytelling and folk dancing in a Scandinavian setting."
"Thus, the name Scandinavian Fair," Glynnie said with a straight face.
"Your powers of deductive reasoning are amazing." I tried to match her serious expression.
Glynnie's lips almost curved into a smile. "I didn't make High Honor Roll
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