Redemption Mountain (60 page)

The corner kick floated up in the wind and rain, then disappeared in a frantic group of jumping, kicking players in front of the goal. The crowd screamed in agony as the ball pinballed around the box, with no one getting a solid foot on it. A half dozen players lay in the mud, including Brenda, when the ball squirted free to a Knight with a clear path to the goal. He buried it in the netting, causing the entire Pittsburgh bench to race onto the field in wild celebration.

Just as the umpire placed the ball down in the center circle for the restart, the rain turned into a torrential downpour. Natty thought she could hear the sound of thunder off to the south. She knew there couldn't be much time left on the clock and was glad to see Emma take the back pass from Paul and blast the ball downfield toward the far left corner. Emma always knew the correct play on a soccer field. Then came two sharp toots from the ref's whistle, ending regulation play a minute early because of the weather.

The early whistle was okay with Natty, as was the ten-minute overtime. She was certain that her team, playing full defense for ten minutes, could kill off the overtime. Then they'd go into a five-man shoot-out, which she knew would be a pretty even match. They'd take their chances in the shoot-out. Natty huddled up her team and had started to give them the strategy when she heard her name called out.

“Say there, Miz Oakes.” Natty looked up to see the referee at the scorer's table with the Pittsburgh coach and the tournament director; he waved her over. “Listen, Miz Oakes, what we're gonna do here, 'cause o' the weather, is just play the overtime and that'll be it. Not gonna go into a shoot-out.”

Natty raised her eyebrows. “What if it's still tied?”

The director spoke up. “We'll just go by goal differential for the tournament.”

“You can't do that!” Natty shouted. “They can play for a tie. That's like giving them the tournament.”

“Well, that's what it's gonna be,” the director declared, turning away from the group. The referee blew his whistle and jogged out to the center of the field. The thunder sounded closer, and the wind blew the rain sideways as Natty trotted back to her team. She didn't like it, but she knew it was probably a good decision.

The Bones ran enthusiastically back out onto the field—everyone but Pie, who stood waiting for his mother's attention. Natty turned and saw him looking at her, a pained expression on his face. He needed to be at his position; the overtime was about to start. “Pie Man, what is it?” she asked, moving toward him.

“Mama,” he said. “Papa's here.” He turned and pointed across the field.

“What?” Natty sputtered, squinting into the rain at the spectators lining the field.

“He was here for the second half. He was yelling to me.”

“Okay, go, Pie.” She pushed him toward the field. The ball was already in play. Scanning the crowd, she saw Buck moving along the sideline, calling out to Pie. Then the cheering crowd grabbed her attention as the Knights moved the ball toward the Bones' goal.

The rain was pelting down, and it was hard to see the ball. Natty kept her eye on Brenda as she made a wonderful save on a hard, rolling shot. She punted the ball directly into the strong wind. Then Natty heard a shrill beeping sound from just behind her. It was Charlie's cellphone.

Reaching quickly into her equipment bag while trying to watch the action on the field, Natty finally located the cellphone. She looked down and pressed the green button. “Hey, Charlie,” she said, her eyes on the field. “Where are you?”

“On the plane, coming into Charleston,” he said. The noise of the rain made it difficult to hear him. “What's happening? Are you still playing?”

Natty laughed and half-yelled into the phone, “We're in overtime in the championship game. It's pouring and your phone's getting all wet.”

“Don't worry about it.” Charlie spoke louder. “Tell me what's happening.”

Natty tried to give Charlie a shorthand version of the play-by-play. The Pie Man was scrambling frantically for the ball amid a circle of players. Natty saw Buck moving along the sideline, oblivious to the spectators behind him, staying even with Pie and calling out instructions, amplified every few seconds with a hand clap when Pie got his foot on the ball.

Then Paul kicked it farther up the sideline and Pie ran after it, encouraged by his father cheering him on for the first time in his life. Natty sobbed into the phone and the tears flowed down her cheeks. Thunder boomed overhead, as a Knights defender cleared the ball to midfield with a powerful kick that sent everyone racing in the opposite direction. Natty saw the timekeeper hold up two fingers.

“Two minutes left, Charlie. Ball's down in our end. Think we're probably out of time.” A thunderclap drowned out his response.

“What, Charlie?” Natty yelled, trying to block her other ear. She saw Buck across the field, staring at her, and they both knew it was obvious who she was talking to.

Then she heard the crowd roar and saw the ball flying from the Bones' end of the field, helped along by the swirling wind, headed at the Pittsburgh sweeper. He played it perfectly, bending slightly for a solid, low header that sent the ball in the other direction. But flashing across the ball's path, Emma took it straight in the chest at full speed. Without breaking stride, she pushed it ahead and raced straight for the sweeper. He moved to his left just as Emma moved to her left, and she was alone in the center of the field, thirty yards from the goaltender. There couldn't be more than a few seconds left in the game. Natty shouted into the phone. “
Emma's in alone, Charlie! She's all alone!
”

Five yards behind Emma, four Golden Knights raced after her as fast as they could, but Natty knew no one was going to catch her before she could get her shot off. The goalie was moving out, and the crowd roared over the deafening noise of the rain. A black umbrella flew across the field. “Hit it, Emma!” Natty cried out. “Hit it now!”

It was an easy goal for Emma, with either foot. She couldn't miss … from twenty yards, and then fifteen … but she didn't shoot. “Pull the trigger now, Em! Don't wait!” Natty yelled into the phone as she jumped up and down, moving out onto the field.

Then the goalie made his move, rushing out at Emma with the ball just a foot too far in front of her. But the ball wasn't too far in front of her—it was right where she wanted it. She waited for the instant the goalie started out and committed irrevocably to his slide. Emma took the long stride she'd been saving and tipped the ball to her right as the goalie slid. She regained possession and faced a wide-open net eight yards away.

Natty raised two arms in triumph, the phone held high in the rain, and watched in agony as Emma waited to shoot and the squad of pursuing Knights overtook her. They slid, tumbled, and dove through the mud to take Emma down, but not before she planted her left foot and, without even looking, swept the ball smoothly with the instep of her right foot on a path toward the left post.

Natty writhed in agony. “Emma! Emma, what are you doing?!” she screamed.

But Emma always knew what she was doing on a soccer field, and Natty gasped as she followed the rolling ball. There, at the left end of the goal, all alone, was the Pie Man. She saw Buck, bent over with his hands cupped at his mouth, yelling. And she saw her son ready himself as the ball came toward him in the torn-up grassless dirt. Natty covered her mouth in fear that he'd slip or miss the ball entirely—as he often did—and she held her breath.

But Pie didn't miss it. He stepped into it perfectly, as he'd seen Emma and Paul and Zack do all season, and powered the ball into the back of the netting.

Natty screamed. “Oh, my
God
, Charlie!
Pie got a goal! We won the tournament!
” She ran out onto the field but stopped when she saw Buck holding Pie up high, hugging him against his chest with one powerful arm, the other lifted in triumph, spinning them both around in a circle.

Pie held his arms aloft, his face lit up with the biggest happy face of his life. The joy on her husband's face reminded Natty of the Buck of her youth, so long ago. She knew she was crying, but it was raining so hard, she wasn't sure. Buck put Pie down to let him run off and celebrate with his teammates. He stopped a few feet away from Natty and looked at the phone in her hand, then back at her face.

She rubbed her eyes with her right sleeve and smiled. “Thanks for coming, Buck,” she said.

“I'm tryin', Nat.”

She nodded. “I know you are, Buck. I know that.”

 

CHAPTER 34

 

W
hen the heat in the bus finally came on, everything started to smell like a wet dog. Some of the kids had changed out of their uniforms into dry clothes, adding their mud-caked uniforms to the mélange of towels and warm-up suits stuffed under the seats and piled in the aisle. Natty just sat in her wet warm-ups. Everything she had was damp, anyway. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable ride back to Red Bone.

It would have been worse if Buck hadn't had sixty dollars on him, which Natty borrowed for one last stop at McDonald's. At least the kids wouldn't starve. She thought about Buck driving all the way up to Charleston to watch their game. Good thing he came, too—to give her the money to feed the team and to bring Zack home from the hospital, after they put a real cast on his leg. No telling what time they'd be getting home if they'd had to wait for Zack.

Natty glanced over at Geneva, who was leaning over the steering wheel, trying to see through the pouring rain. “Let me know if you need a break, Neva,” said Natty, knowing that the old woman thought she was the only one who could drive the bus. Geneva was too old to be driving, but she'd driven these roads for over forty years, and she'd get them home again tonight.

Natty twisted around to look at her team and saw the tournament trophy in its own seat across the aisle. It was mostly plastic—a silver soccer player with a ball at the end of his foot, standing on a round wooden platform held up by four foot-tall round columns. The plaque read
12th Annual Charleston Youth Soccer League Thanksgiving Tournament, First Place, The Bones, Red Bone, West Virginia.
Natty thought that maybe there would be a good spot for it in the new library.

In the seat behind the trophy, Gabe and Emma, their bald heads almost touching, hunched together, talking quietly. Natty wondered what they were talking about. They'd said more to each other this weekend than she and Buck had all year. Behind them, the rest of the team was spread out around the bus, as the kids tried to find comfortable sleeping positions on the hard seats.

Natty closed her eyes, but she couldn't avoid thinking about the decision that lay ahead. After all the years up on the boulder, working on the dream that all little hillbilly girls dreamed, it was about to come true. But now she didn't know if she could go through with it. She was going to take the kids and meet Charlie in Bluefield.
But how could she do that now without having told Buck? And now he'd gone all the way to Charleston to watch their game and run up and down the sideline in the pouring rain, yelling out encouragement to Pie—words her son had never heard from his father. And after the game he'd picked up Pie and held him over his head and hugged him for what seemed like the first time. Pie had never been happier in his life.

Natty chewed on her lip and felt the tears rolling down her cheeks. In the dark bus, no one could see the tears of joy she cried for her son. And for her husband. Before she could resolve her dilemma, Natty surrendered to the exhaustion of the long weekend.

*   *   *

C
HARLIE PRESSED THE
phone into the seat back in front of him and looked out the small window of the plane. Far ahead, a line of orange spread out in front of the plane. Beneath it, a blanket of dark clouds hid the rugged landscape of West Virginia. Somewhere below, Natty and the Bones were celebrating their victory and the winning goal scored by the Pie Man.

The flight attendant arrived with a large cup of ice and two small bottles of Canadian Club. Charlie lowered the tray in front of him and poured both bottles over the ice. He thought about his weekend in Vermont. It was like the old days. A traditional turkey dinner, a fire in the fireplace, the Detroit Lions on TV, and a game of Yahtzee afterward. There hadn't been enough snow for skiing, so the four of them took a long walk around the golf course, enjoying the crystal-clear air and spectacular views of Sugarbush.

He'd spent Saturday night alone on the deck with Ellen, while the kids went into Montpelier to the splendid old Capitol Theater for a movie. They bundled up and talked. Charlie filled Ellen in on the hearing in Red Bone and the China project, which he would take over not as an onsite engineer but as deputy superintendent, with complete responsibility for the second dam.

It would mean three years in China. Charlie told her that he hadn't decided what he was going to do, that he needed to think about it, although, he had to concede, it was a once-in-a-career opportunity. He left it at that, and Ellen didn't press him. She smiled in the dim yellow light that filtered onto the deck from the family room, reached over, and took his hand. “Okay, Charlie. You decide what you want to do.”

Then, when all the talk about the company and China had been said, they sat quietly on the deck. The perfect opportunity had arrived to tell Ellen about Natty. But the words wouldn't come. They sat for a long time, watching the stars in the black sky over Lincoln Peak.

Was it cowardice or was it indecision, Charlie asked himself, gazing out at the thick clouds beneath the plane. He had the chance to tell Ellen, yet he let it pass. He even had the feeling that Ellen was
waiting
for him to deliver the news. But he couldn't do it.

Charlie took a large sip of his drink, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his seat. He saw Natty standing in front of the orchestra pit at the Imperial Theatre. He could smell her perfume and see her glistening lips, and he ached for her. He'd never met a woman like Natty, and he wanted to spend every waking moment with her. He hadn't changed his mind, only delayed the decision for a while. He'd meet her tonight in Bluefield, and they'd go from there.