Wrestling Against Myself (68 page)

Antonio grabbed onto the chain link fence, making it rustle just enough to grab the girl's attention. Even though she insisted that she was only pretending to be a girl, that it was a hoax, Tony knew better.

Courtney paused and turned her head. For a moment she looked directly at Tony and their eyes were locked on one another. The world faded away and Tony could see the person, the girl, he had come to know, who he had fallen in love with. Courtney was still there, under the facade of false masculinity, under the black t-shirt and baggy jeans. Through all of her defenses Antonio could see the pain and the fear in her eyes, along with the utter loneliness.

Part of the athlete hoped that now that he was getting around without crutches, she would see things weren't as bad as she thought. That things were returning back to normal and that she could return back to normal too. As their eyes stayed staring at each other, he hoped that she would come back to her senses and return to being her real self.

Courtney shook her head as if the snap out of a daze. “What are you looking at, loser,” she snarled.

Antonio frowned, but didn't respond.

“Stupid fagot,” Courtney hissed and stormed away.

Tony almost jumped when he felt a hand upon his back. He wasn't aware Carl had been standing behind him. “You got to let it go, Tiny.” he squeezed his friend's shoulder. “It was never meant to be.”

Antonio sighed. He didn't want to admit it, but whatever wounds Courtney suffered might run too deep for him to reach. “She's just lost her way.”

“I know you want to think that,” Carl said. “But you have to realize the truth, Courtney was a lie. What you just saw, that was the real person. An angry, bitter, little man who may be a jerk, but at least he's acting like the man he is suppose to be. The man God made him to be. Hopefully he can get rid of the nastiness, but I think it would take some sort of miracle at this point.”

Tony wanted to object and to argue. Carl was wrong, what they were seeing was not the real person, not by a long shot. But it was hard to convince someone when all the evidence said otherwise.

The point became moot when Coach Walker showed up with his clipboard. He did a quick roll call and jotted down the new kids' names. There was a brief introduction to the season, the usual pep talk about how if everyone remained committed the season promised to be a special one and how he would turn boys into men and men into champions. It was the fourth year that Tony heard the speech, but he always enjoyed it.

“Today is an easy day,” Coach Walker said. “Timed mile and then get your lifting in; lower weights work on the upper body, upper weights work on the lower body. Let's go.”

The group traveled to the starting line for their run. Tony staggered behind them, still getting the feel for walking without crutches.

“What do you think you're doing, Tiny,” Coach Walker bellowed.

“Timed mile, coach.”

“Nice try. You still haven't learned when to quit. I like that, but you sit this one out until the doctors clear you.”

Tony bowed his head and shuffled his feet towards the coach.

“Ready! Go!” Coach Walker shouted towards the group as he clicked the button on his stop watch.

“I could have made the mile, Coach,” Tony said as he stood on the grass.

“I don't doubt that you could, and you probably would come in first just to spite me. But you know that your legs are still tender. The doctor called me this weekend and told me that you are healing nicely and I might let you do some resistance training with the bands, but nothing more than that.”

“I hate sitting around and doing nothing.”

“Something tells me your talking about something else,” Coach Walker said as kept his eye on the cluster of wrestlers rounding the first turn.

“Perhaps,” Tony said out of frustration.

“She's been the topic of some staff meetings lately. So have you.”

“Me?”

“For different reasons. You, because of your injuries. Her? I guess because of your injuries as well.”

“Huh?”

Coach looked at the stop watch as the group was half way around the first lap. “Pick it up,” he shouted towards the group. “This isn't a Sunday jog through the tulips, and I'm trying to time you on a stop watch, not a calendar.”

The group responded as a few of the teenagers began to separate themselves from the herd.

“It doesn't take a PhD. Tiny. When you got attacked, that really did something to his psyche and though her teachers have given her some leeway, she is really walking a tight line.”

“How do you mean?”

“She's been rude to her classmates, rude to her teachers, and downright defiant. Her shrink has come to talk to everybody, but even he's at a loss as to how to best approach the situation.”

“Do you think she was faking being a girl?”

The coach remained quiet on the subject as the wrestlers made their way pass them. He showed the time to Antonio who was not impressed. “I bet they would've run faster if you were leading the way.”

“Maybe, but you didn't answer my question.”

“Do I think she was faking it? No. She's been in therapy for years and those guys don't have all those letters after their name because they are easily fooled. I think that she is who she is, but might not think the world is ready for her or that she might not be ready for the world.”

“I wish I knew what to do,” Antonio lamented.

“Just be you. I think that's enough for one person, don't you?”

“Maybe, Coach. It seems like such a waste.”

“Sometimes in life, all you can do is weather the storm and ride it out until the end.”

Tony stood and watched his teammates run around the track, letting what his coach said sink in. He was weathering the storm, but wished he could be like Jesus and command the winds and the rain to be still. No matter how much he wanted it to end, this storm wanted to endure.

Antonio was given clearance to resume driving and it couldn't happen a moment too soon. He spent a week staring at his sports car, desiring to get behind the wheel and enjoy the freedom that came with being able to come and go as he pleased.

His mom made him another set of keys, he never got back the set that Peter had taken and didn't know if those would ever be recovered. Outside of losing a key chain he was particularly fond of, he was able to drive again.

It was early Tuesday morning. He had decided to resume his duties as student leader of the morning prayer meeting. Antonio settled behind the wheel of the Firebird, he could smell the Armor-all and realized his mom got the car detailed. He smiled as he turned the key and the engine roared to life. He looked over the gauges to refresh his memory and noticed he had a full tank of gas to boot.

“Good going mom,” Tony said as he revved the engine and warmed it up.

It felt good to be back on the road, Tony thought. Traffic was light and he didn't have to battle any gridlock on his way to school. He didn't even mind waiting for the red light as he turned onto Michigan avenue off of Alternate 19. Part of him wanted to drive directly to Courtney's house to pick her up for school, but he knew that wouldn't be as appreciated as it had been in the past. 

Tony pulled into the empty school parking lot and to his usual spot. It was an amazing coincidence that while he wasn't driving to school, the spot remained empty, perhaps as a sign of respect.

“I wonder if anyone is going to claim it next year or if I have to bequeath the spot to someone before anyone will use it,” Antonio mused to himself as he put the car into park.

The parking lot was eerily empty, just as it had been the day he was attacked. Without warning, Tony found his breathing was deeper and his pulse raced. Part of him thought about locking the car doors and waiting for more people to show up so he knew he was safe.

“You're being childish,” Tony chided himself, but still found himself frozen in his seat with his hand gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

Tony took three deep breaths and then quickly opened the door before he changed his mind.

“You got this,” he told himself as he got out of the car.

Antonio stood beside the open car door as he scouted out the area, scrutinizing every shadow in case there was a would be attacker. Satisfied, he closed the door and made his way towards the school. He had never been as scared in his life, but Tony soldiered on.

Tony let out a breath of relief when he made it into the well lit hallway of D building. He was no more in danger in the hall than he was outside, but it didn't feel that way. He leaned back against the wall outside of where the prayer meeting was held, put out his hand in front of him, and watched it shake.

It took three minutes for his body to settle down, something Tony hoped he would get control of. Even though his body was healing, he knew the mental scars might last for years if he didn't confront the issues head on.

The door opened down the hall and Tony spun in case he had to ward off any attackers. It was Carl.

“It's about time you resumed your duties, slacker,” Carl said as he made his way towards his friend.

“Hey,” Tony said as his heart was in his chest.

“You okay, Tiny. You don't look so good. You're sweating up a storm; you don't have a fever, do you?”

“No. I'm okay. Just takes more energy to get around than usual.”

“You sure,” Carl asked skeptically.

“Just let it go,” Tony said as he returned to leaning against the wall.

The morning classes weren't thrilling, but Tony found he was paying more attention to the material as it was being presented and was back to taking notes. He knew he could milk being injured for only so long before he actually had to perform on the weekly tests. School was returning back to normal and though people asked him how he was doing, it was no longer news that he was around.

Lunchtime came and Tony found that he was famished. Perhaps he was using more energy and burning more calories as he was working through the mild pain and stiffness as he healed, he thought as he made his way to the cafeteria. At least he wouldn't have to wait on line as he carried his lunch in a brown paper bag with him.

Tony sat at his usual table and didn't wait before saying a quick prayer and then seeing what his mom made for him. He assumed he would return to preparing his own meals for lunch, but he appreciated being spoiled. He noticed his mom packed two sandwiches on hoagie bread, which he would have thought was too much a few weeks ago. But with how hungry he felt, he appreciated the extra food.

A few minutes passed before Carl and Tracy joined him at the table.

“You're looking better,” Carl said as he sat down.

“Yep, without those crutches you almost look human,” Tracy added.

“Gee, thanks,” Tony said without much enthusiasm.

“I was referring to this morning,” Carl clarified. “I thought you might be coming down with the flu.”

“That's all he needs at this point,” Tracy said. “I think he'd suffered enough.”

“I'm fine,” Tony said after swallowing a big chunk of sandwich. “I think getting around is more of a workout than I anticipated and when you're sore, that trip from the parking lot to the school feels ten time longer than it really is.”

“At least you're getting back to your usual self. Maybe you'll even be a hundred percent by the time first practice rolls around,” Carl said.