A Young Man’s Game

The Black Lords practiced from three o’clock until five o’clock every weekday, after which Ted generally spent some time in the weight room before taking the thirty-minute walk to 316 Columbia Road, and today, as always, the hobby room would be his first stop. Finding the house silent and empty, he set his bookbag down by the front door, off to the side so no one would trip over it, and went straight to work on his Titanic.

The 31-inch hull had been painted red below the waterline, and white along the superstructure, with a single strip of masking tape marking the boundaries of each. Not until he removed the tape would he know if the paint had seeped underneath it, so with a steady hand and a focused eye he slowly peeled the white strip away from the plastic, beginning with the superstructure on the starboard side, pausing for a moment as he heard the front door open. Moments later, his uncle burst into the room.

“I got it!” Gary Buckley exclaimed, grinning widely through his dark, neatly-trimmed beard. “I've been looking for this for years, and I finally found it.”

Ted turned the painted hull around sideways, then glanced up at his uncle. “Hi, Gary,” he said evenly as he turned back to his model, slowly removing the tape that marked Titanic's waterline. “What did you find?”

Gary pulled a box from a paper bag and showed it to Ted. “The Hindenburg,” he announced excitedly as Ted examined the box, scrutinizing the image of the great zeppelin and noticing that all the labeling was in German. “I've been trying to find that for the longest time. I think it's an import, it was the only one they had, I saw it and snapped it up right away.”

“Wasn't that the one that blew up?” Ted inquired, handing the box back to his uncle.

“That's right, crashed and burned in 34 seconds,” said Gary, laying the box on the adjacent worktable and reaching back into the bag. “I picked up those colors you wanted, and some more white glue.”

“Thanks.”

“Have we got any silver spray paint?”

“Umm....” Ted quickly surveyed the shelves above and in front of him, spotting what he was looking for behind a jar of paintbrushes, “...yeah, there it is,” turning back to his work without another word.

Gary regarded his nephew curiously for a moment, then sat down and opened the box containing the zeppelin model while Ted, clearly preoccupied, flipped through the instructions and examined some of the parts for his Titanic. The man knew precisely what was on his nephew's mind, but he didn't care to mention it just yet; as was most often the case, Ted would likely address the issue in his own good time.

Meticulously, Ted painted each part without removing them from the plastic grids, mixing what colors he needed in soda-bottle caps. The paint would have to be allowed to dry before the parts could be assembled, so that excess paint and plastic could be filed away and his fingers wouldn't smudge the colors. Also, he made sure to thoroughly cleanse each brush with turpentine and cap each paint bottle after use, so the colors wouldn't unduly mix and the paint wouldn't spill. He was in the process of applying freshly-mixed, buff-colored paint to one of the molded halves of Titanic's first funnel when Gary spoke.

“Pierce rejected the settlement offer,” he said, shaking the spray can vigorously. “Looks like we're going to trial.”

“Is that what you wanted?” Ted asked in a low voice, keeping his eyes on the model.

“Well,” Gary began, spraying the Hindenburg's scattered parts with the silvery pigment, “he knows this case is a long shot. I advised him there's not a whole lot of liability there, that he should take the offer seriously, but he wants to go to court, so...”

Ted nodded. “Can you win this one?”

“Hard to say. I'll have a better idea after I pick a jury.” As he capped the spray can and placed it on the shelf, he noticed Ted's harsh expression; his eyes appeared to be drilling holes through the tabletop. Perhaps, he thought, it's time to bring it up. “How'd practice go today?”

Ted took a deep breath and replied stoically, “Cliff's going to start at quarterback.”

“Oh.” Gary sounded disappointed, though not altogether surprised.

“I’m not surprised,” Ted continued, only the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice. “Lansdowne’s not all that good, as far as I know. I think they went three and seven last year. We should be able to beat them.”

“Are you still starting on defense?”

“Yeah, right outside linebacker. We threw in some new stunts this week. I'm not worried about it.”

All evidence to the contrary, Gary thought to himself. “I'm sure you'll do a great job, no matter which side of the ball you're on. Just remember, you're part of the team, and you've got to contribute in your own way.”

“I know,” Ted said indifferently, nodding in agreement. “Cliff's a good player, he just had a bad game. He's played these guys before, so...” His voice trailed off as he turned once again to the model, and Gary surmised that he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

“Well,” said Gary, changing the subject and inspecting his own handiwork, “that's all I can do for today. Your aunt Sue's got a faculty meeting tonight, so we're on our own. John should be back any minute. You want to go to Cap's?”

“Sure,” Ted replied, reshelving his supplies and wiping his hands clean with a rag.

A moment later they heard the distant thud of the front door, and immediately John burst into the room. “Hi, dad!” he exclaimed with all his youthful exuberance, taking a moment to inspect the worktables to see what they were building. “Hey, Ted,” he said, turning to his elder cousin, “how'd practice go today?”

Gary couldn't help but smile, but Ted could only roll his eyes and shake his head.

Gary, Ted and John got up from the table and headed for the door, but as Ted held it open he heard a familiar voice. “Hi, Ted.” He turned and saw a slender young woman, a classmate of his, with light brown hair and deep, dark eyes, seated alone at the counter.

“I'll catch up,” he said to his uncle and cousin, who glanced at each other with raised eyebrows before proceeding out the door.

Lisa Nicholson was new in town, and didn't know many people yet. Some of her classmates had told her about Ted, that they knew him when they were kids, and that he used to be really cool, but now he was real grouchy and a loner and she should leave him alone.

“Hi, Lisa,” he said, standing next to her as she swiveled on her stool. “You here all by yourself?”

“No, I'm just waiting for some friends,” she replied. “You want to sit down?”

“I can't,” Ted shrugged, gesturing toward the door, “I've got to get going.”

“Come on,” she implored sweetly, “just for a minute?”

Ted sat on the edge of the stool next to hers and clasped his hands in front of him. The two sat in awkward silence for a long moment, until the tension was broken by the rambunctious voice of Frank Caporelli. “Hey, kids! How are ya?” he intoned from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a dish towel before reaching out to Ted. “Teddy, how ya doin'?”

“Hi, Frank.” Ted shook Caporelli's hand. “You know Lisa?”

“Sure! What can I get ya?”

Ted shook his head. “Nothing, thanks, I'm heading out of here. Lisa, you want anything?”

“Umm...” Lisa looked back and forth between Ted and the big, bubbly proprietor and said, “No, thank you.”

“Hey Teddy,” Caporelli said, grinning slyly and giving Ted a nudge, “big game this weekend, hah?”

Ted nodded. Frank was such the Black Lords Booster Club. “Lansdowne. Seven and three last year. Best run defense in the state.”

“Well, you guys'll beat 'em, right?”

“Sure, Frank.”

Caporelli laughed loudly and strode to the door to greet a customer who had just come in. Ted sighed, “I hate it when he calls me that.”

“What?” asked Lisa.

“‘Teddy.’” Ted spoke as though the name turned his stomach. “Nobody's ever called me Teddy. I hate that.”

“Well, you call him Frank. Everybody else calls him Cap.”

“Frank is his name,” he said flatly.

At that moment, three of Lisa's friends noisily entered the restaurant and greeted her loudly, virtually ignoring Ted as they rushed past him. As Ted stepped silently toward the door, Lisa called after him, “See you later...Teddy!” Ted turned to see her grinning sweetly as she walked to a booth with the others. For a moment he stared at her icily, but inside, he was amused.