Past The Veil

Golden Boy

Split River High School, 1983

Wally Clark, Split River's golden boy. Our star player. Wally's been playing for years, touchdown after touchdown, and never fails to amaze the crowd, especially his mother. The lungs of that woman are wicked.

I'm Aurora Kane. That's it, nothing too special. I think the most "special" thing about me is my boyfriend Wally. We've been dating since middle school. High school sweethearts, they tell us. His friends, that is, which is almost the whole school and by association, my friends as well. That's what you get for dating the popular kid in school. Some people say they admire how long we've been together and that spark is still there, other's look like they're praying on our downfall. Mostly other girls, and some guys who can't keep a partner for more than a week.

Enough babbering, Wally's got one of his biggest games later tonight. Well, they're all his biggest games to him, he's really got the spirit when it comes to this and I mean, I get it, you kind of have to, especially if it's something you're passionate about. But this game is actually one of the biggest. College scouts are coming out to observe Wally, he's really got to have his A-game up if he's getting that scholarship.

Today started like every other day, wake up, head downstairs for breakfast, get ready for school, and out the door I go. Wally wakes up earlier than me and he only lives down the street so by the time I'm out my door, he's at mine and we walk to school together. He's rocking his jersey, going on and on about the game tonight.

"I'm so pumped about tonight! This is going to be the greatest game yet! Mom's been talking about it for weeks, I am seriously going to kick some ass tonight!" Wally jumps around me with his fists up, throwing fake punches, running around in circles with his fist in the air as a victory run for "beating me."

"You're going to wear yourself out before tonight if you keep going like that," I laugh.

"No way, not possible, way way way too pumped to get tired, I could keep going forever."

I just laugh along. Eventually, we reach the school and we're immediately greeted by swarms of students. Other players hyping each other up, girls wishing him the best, random smiles here and there from other students.

The school day starts as every usual Friday; kids are ready to go to the game, and have the weekend off, slacking a bit since it is the end of the week, an easy day. The final bell rings and I rush out the classroom doors and into the halls. I help set up the games, food, drinks, decor, cleaning, you name it, I've done it. Not during the actual games though, just the couple of hours leading up to it.

I reach the rec room and start prepping. Banners getting painted, balloons being blown up, giant jugs getting filled with lemonade. This prep goes on for another 2 hours until it's time for students, staff, and families to start pouring into the stands. And that is exactly what happens. It doesn't take much time at all until we have what's considered a "full house."

It's been about thirty minutes since the games started, and everything is going great, we're winning by two points. Wally jogs over to the bench and sits down for a breather and takes off his helmet. Bea, Wally's mother, isn't having it though. She practically rips herself out of the seat, leaving her husband behind as she stomps down to the bench.

They proceed to have a conversation, she's standing there with her arms crossed and Wally looks tired yet confused. At some point, the conversation gets a little heated as I see Wally shaking his head as his mom is waving around a pointed finger. Oh no. Not again. This always seems to happen. Sometimes I get the feeling that Bea prioritizes football more than Wally does, I've never tried to bring it up but it comes across that way. She pats him on the back and backs away.

"Come on Devils!" She shouts and claps. And just like that, Wally is back on the field, no rest for him I guess, though I would argue he needs it, I'm sure coach would too. Wally's running on the field, he gets to the five-yard line and boom! Tackled.

"Come on Wally get up!" His mother shouts. That tumble looked pretty gnarly. Wally did two flips and smacked the ground with the player who tackled him on Wally's back. The player gets up but Wally doesn't budge.

That's not like him...

I stand up.

"Come on Wally!" I yell.

"Wally?!"

Nothing.

Questioned murmurs take over the loud cheering that was just happening a moment ago. Ref blows the whistle to stop the game and I jump from my seat and bolt down the stands to the field, his mother not far behind me. Coach is already with him when he directs the ref to hold back anybody trying to see what happened.

"No, no wait, Wally! What's going on, is he okay?"

"Miss you need to stand back."

"What's going on?! Why isn't he getting up?"

Coach puts his ear close to Wally's helmet and a wave of anguish takes over his face... I just knew.