History of the Trap: September Rains Part 7

7

The rain of a week ago only lasted an hour and a half.  It was strong and steady, but not so hard as to be really scary.  There was no significant wind to intensify it, and there was no thunder or lightning.  Just the rains starting up, then intensifying, and then stopping almost as if someone had turned off a tap.

A week later, at virtually the same time, the rains started up again.  And turned off an hour and a half later, just as they had before.  Ninety minutes of rain.  Mr. Bruchow, our biology teacher and agricultural expert (along with my father, who grew up on a farm, and managed it almost a decade), thought it might be helpful if it rained a bit more, but what was falling was helping tremendously.  If only he knew how routine that rain would come.

So there was some rain on those Wednesday afternoon practices, but none on the night of the big game.

The big game went off surprisingly well.  My Dad was greatly relieved that there were no significant injuries, and no major fights or scuffles broke out.  They may have been right, those who advocated for this.  It did seem to boost morale, and gave everyone something to focus on, outside of the desperate reality that we may be trapped forever in this bizarre situation.

I had some television interview assignments, mostly centered on pregame and halftime.  I got to watch the last half of the game and then go to the post-game dance (if I so chose).  I interviewed David Deneau, the captain of the Lion's team.  He was a great student, and an actor in my soap The Sands of Loren, and somebody I greatly admired.  He represented the very best of us.  So naturally, my interview was very gentle.  He said he was grateful to the school administrators for giving us this chance to get involved in something that could rally the whole school, and that he was going to do everything in his power to make it a good, clean game.

I also interviewed Greg Waters, the band's drum major, who assured me that the band was in tiptop shape for a great performance.  Mr. Black, the band director who had been caught making moonshine, had his probation relaxed enough to assist with the band's performance. Greg was tall, slender and a bundle of dynamic energy.  He was fantastic at what he did, and was one of the major reasons our band did so well in marching competitions.  Before the trap, people came to the football games as much to see the band as they did the football team.

And the half time show was sensational.  Emotional renditions of John Denver's Take Me Home, Country Road, then followed by the school anthem, left many of us in tears.  But they also did a humorous performance of The Three Wiseguys television theme song, including slapstick involving a trombone, a baritone horn and a tuba.  Laughing and crying - it was a perfect show.

The game itself was good, but not exactly a nail biter.  The Mark Granite led Raiders won 31 - 7, in control of the game from the second quarter on.  It may have been that David Deneau had taken the injury concerns seriously, and not played hard enough.  From what I could see though, with my limited football knowledge, was that David was playing aggressively enough, but that Mark's team kept pushing the envelope, operating at the edge of the rules, and David would not meet them on those grounds.  Much of the yardage that was gained by the Lions was on penalty calls by the Raiders, including clipping, roughing the passer, unsportsmanlike conduct and pass interference.  Fortunately, as the Raider's lead became more solid, they backed off a bit, and even let some second string players have at it.

After interviewing Reggie Hamilton, the only Lion to score a touchdown, as he came back onto the field for the second half, I went to the bleachers to sit down.  I looked up and saw Artie and Ginny together, arms around each other.  Many of Artie's other friends were sitting around them as well.  I did not see an empty seat near them, but I headed that way anyways. 

Halfway up the bleachers, I looked to my right and there was Lisa Carlton.  To one side of her was Amy James, Morgan's friend, one of the few that wasn't a cheerleader or in the band.  The seat on the other side of Lisa was.....empty.

I stared at her, far too long, unsure as what to do.  It was best to just move on, I was sure.  Then she looked back at me.  I quickly looked away and started to turn to go further up the bleachers.

"Lance," she said, almost too quietly for me to hear.  "It's okay.  You can sit here.  I won't bite."

She wouldn't?  Well, that had its plusses and minuses.

I sat down next to her.  I wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

But I was willing to find out.