Sunken Graves, Alan Lee [all ebook reader .txt] 📗

the night, Ms. King.”

“That’s very kind but I’m staying. My boy’s already thrown up twice,” she said.

“I understand. I’m worried too, about my Benjamin. I think his nose’s broken, poor guy.”

It wasn’t. No structural damage.

Should Jennings step into the room? He didn’t know. The wild notion entered his head, Teddy Roosevelt wouldn’t just be standing outside listening.

Who makes you the arbiter? It’s only November.

“I’m sorry your son’s nose might be broken, sir. Mickey has to come home with me. He needs his teeth pulled, they tell me, and…and a partial denture put in…” A sob from her.

“Oh Ms. King, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jennings peeked around the corner far enough to see reflections in the window. Lynch had set one hand on Ms. King’s shoulder. She was resting her forehead in her palm, bent over Mickey’s bed.

Lynch said, “Here’s some comfort for you. Most of my mouth is fake. Dentures and veneers. I never felt a thing. And you won’t pay a thing.”

“That’s very…considerate…but—”

“I tell you what, Ms. King, I’d like to cover Mickey’s tuition for the remainder of the year, too. I hope that doesn’t come across as condescending. It’s me who needs the favor here. I’m a wreck looking at Mickey sleeping. Do you think we can come to an arrangement? You and I, we keep this within the family, and it’s better for the school and it’s better for our boys. That’s what is on my mind, Mickey’s future.”

Jennings took a step back.

Tuition for the remainder of the school year. Even considering the partial scholarship, Lynch was dangling fifteen grand in front of Mickey’s mom. Play ball, Ms. King, it’ll only cost your soul.

No, that wasn’t fair. Fifteen thousand dollars could mean everything.

Dean Gordon and Coach Murray arrived fifteen minutes later. Jennings had moved to the couch by then.

Lynch emerged from the room and collided with Gordon and Murray. He grinned at them, not like the commercials.

“You’re too damn late, boys. Long day for you educators.”

Dean Gordon had intelligent eyes, built by peering at angry boys and angrier parents and still winning. He said, “You’ve been speaking to Ms. King?”

“Oh yes. The woman’s fine. Fine and dandy and financially secure. We have an agreement in place. Like today never happened.”

“You need to return my phone calls, Mr. Lynch.”

“I’ll ring next time I’m on the toilet, Gordon. Deal with all the shit at once.” The slow soothing voice was gone. Lynch leaned over Coach Murray and pushed him with a finger. “Murray. My boy’s playing football on Friday, Murray.”

The way he said Murray it sounded like Murra. Was he aping a deep south accent?

“Benji is suspended from the team, Mr. Lynch.”

Lynch’s smile was wild and manic. Reminded Jennings of the crazy cat in Alice in Wonderland.

“Oh is he.”

“He is.”

“Didn’t you hear, Coach? Today never happened. Just ask the poor widow Ms. King.”

“My team, my rules, Lynch.”

“Your team? Your team. Spoken like a man with a lot of career options. Spoken like a man who is ready to make a stand, to die on that hill for his team. Good for you, all that gumption. Are cushy head coach positions thick on the ground these days?”

Dean Gordon said, “Mr. Lynch, you’re helping build the Valley Academy and you know how highly we value our staff. To even insinuate—”

“You don’t preemptively state my opinions, Gordon. Ever. And shove the flattery up your ass. I’ll bring your starting middle linebacker to school on Friday, Murray. There’s a lot riding on that game. Isn’t there, boys.”

Lynch walked down the hall, the stomping gait, and didn’t bother replying to anything the dean and coach said. They were dismissed.

Left alone, Murray muttered, “The man’s not afraid to throw his weight around.”

“Do you know what’s worse than new money, Coach?” said Gordon.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Lynch hadn’t seen Jennings in the corner of the waiting area. Nor did the coach and the dean.

In his fingers Jennings held the note from Mr. Lewis.

It’s worse than you realize.

He didn’t remember twitching the note from his pocket. But there it was, quivering, beckoning.

Jennings punched out a text message.

Mr. Lewis, it’s Dan Jennings. Let’s meet.

Tomorrow.

9

The Academy burned with news of the fight. Two secretaries were discussing it as Jennings checked his mail that morning. Boys reenacted the beating in the hallway.

Mickey King hadn’t been released yet. Benjamin Lynch wasn’t on campus either. Their absence was felt like a black hole, giving greater freedom for the legend to swell.

After third period, Jennings passed Daisy Hathaway in the hall. The colder weather meant she wore short skirts less often and he could breathe easier around her.

“I heard you were in on the action yesterday, Mr. Jennings.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Was it gruesome?”

“Like a nature show, animals chewing on each other.”

She got close enough for him to smell her shampoo. A whisper, “Did you hear? Benji got hit with a one-day suspension. One day! And he’ll play the second half of the game Friday.”

“He’s only docked two quarters?”

“So Mr. Barry says.”

Jennings glanced up and down the hallway. “I was at the hospital. Lynch paid off Mickey’s mother and threatened Coach Murray’s job.”

“Unbelievable. This is unbelievable. What makes it worse, Peter doesn’t care about his son. His insistence on Benji playing football and attending a military institute on scholarship is all about his own need for relevance. In your conference with him, I bet he barely acknowledged Benji.”

Jennings searched his memory. “I think you’re right.”

“At another school, Benji would be off the football team and suspended from school for a week. But at the Academy? We have to keep the titans happy.”

“Like the incident never occurred,” he said.

A few students watched them and she lowered her voice further.

“Benjamin should be tested for drugs. He’s never been violent before.”

“All his rage surfaced. Lost his mind. Another few seconds and he would’ve cracked Mickey King’s skull.”

Hathaway made hard eye contact with him. “Like he’s repressing childhood trauma? Trauma from his father, perhaps?”

“Rage comes from somewhere.”

She patted his arm at the elbow. His sleeves were rolled up and her fingers made contact