A Name Earned Read online

  “We better be quiet,” I whisper-laughed. “We’ll wake up Coach Robison.”

  “Yeah, and he’ll be over here in a flash, convinced his boys are drinking!” said Johnny.

  “No joking about drinking! You can’t go there,” Lloyd said, but by this time we were all laughing so hard we banged our heads against the dirt wall.

  “I like your idea about the date,” Lloyd said. “Johnny, can I borrow your phone? I’ll give Heather a call, and she can meet us here. Faye, if we keep the lights off so she can’t see your hair, you’ll be safe.”

  “Are you sure you’re not just a little bit Choctaw, Faye?” I asked. “Only a Choctaw would know how to do what you just did.”

  “Thank you, Faye,” Lloyd said. “I needed that. Bad.”

  “Needed what?” asked Faye. “We still need to decide what movie we’re going to see. This is exciting! My first double date ever, and it all started in a hole in the ground.”

  Hoke, Johnny, there’s your setup. Johnny was the best improv comedian in the group. He didn’t let me down.

  “Just don’t go to any John Wayne movies,” he said. “You don’t want Faye to know what savages we really are, Bobby.”

  “Speak for yourself, Cherokee Johnny!” I answered.

  “While you guys argue about the movie, I’m going to see Heather,” Lloyd said, standing and almost lifting the door.

  We all shut up and pulled him to his seat.

  “Over the top?” he asked. “I’m just trying to be funny like you guys. And gals,” he said, nodding to Faye.

  She smiled and nodded back.

  We sat for the longest time without saying anything. I pulled my shirt from the pipe and looked through the hole to the patio. Nothing there. No lights on in the house. And no loud horn blowing.

  “Lloyd, your dad must be gone. No lights on in the house. Dad probably had a talk with him in the driveway.”

  “Man, what am I gonna do now?”

  The question hung over us like a cloud.

  “Keep working to the good,” I said. “Come to class every day, and play hard, clean basketball. And don’t let your temper get the best of you. Lloyd, you’re the leader now. Of the Blanton household. Your dad may never admit it, but you have to think like a leader.”

  Lloyd sighed, and we heard the tough smile in his voice.

  “I sure have three good friends to learn from,” he said. “And yes, I’m including you, Faye. I know you were only half joking about the date. Let’s make it happen.”

  And so ended the craziest night of the year.

  Or so we thought.

  CHAPTER 9

  A Dad Who’s Proud?

  I’m sure Mr. Blanton drove home. He didn’t hear all the racket we were making in our hideaway room, so Lloyd was safe. For now.

  Johnny drove home, and Faye walked through the backyard gate, on the way to her upstairs bedroom in her parents’ house next door.

  She blinked her lights on and off a few times, so I knew she was thinking of me. I waited on the patio till I saw her lights turn off for the final time, and I knew she would soon be asleep in her own room. I tiptoed through the back door, and in less than five minutes was sound asleep myself.

  Sometime after midnight, Lloyd’s dad called the house. I knew it had to be him by Dad’s response. Dad got out of bed and turned the light on in the living room, so I knew this was something serious. I could only hear Dad’s side of the conversation.

  “Calm yourself down. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s safe.”

  “No, I don’t know where he is.”

  “Gimme a minute, I’ll ask Bobby.”

  Of course he didn’t ask me anything. He was hoping I was asleep, though he had to know I’d never sleep through this.

  “Bobby says Lloyd caught a ride home. Are you sure he’s not spending the night with friends?”

  “No, it won’t do you any good to come over here. I told you Lloyd is not here.”

  “Now Blanton, I really don’t think you should drive. You know what will happen if you get another DWI.”

  “I’m just trying to help. No, of course I’m not gonna call the police. I am on your side, whether you know it or not.”

  Of all the lies Dad was feeding Mr. Blanton, he just said the most important truth of the night.

  I am on your side, whether you know it or not.

  “No, I am not telling you not to drink. I am only saying you are in no condition to drive. And if you take a deep breath and stop screaming, you’ll know I’m right.”

  Dad was getting brave now. Maybe it was working.

  “How about this. If you go to bed and get some sleep, I’ll call you tomorrow morning. I’ll help you find Lloyd.”

  “Fine. Good night and sleep well.”

  But the evening was just beginning. Fifteen minutes later, Mr. Blanton showed up at the front door. At least he was smart enough to call a cab. I threw my clothes on and stopped Dad as he went to answer the doorbell.

  “Dad,” I whispered, “I’m going to be with Lloyd. And don’t worry. We’re staying underground, no matter what happens.”

  “Smart move, son. Now hurry up. We’ll be sitting on the patio. I’m letting your mom sleep. Somebody needs to around here.”

  I knocked softly on the door. “Lloyd, it’s me. I’m coming in.” I pulled the door aside and slid home, closing the door behind me.

  “What’s going on?” Lloyd asked. “It’s past your bedtime.”

  “Yeah, and I’m hoping you keep up with the jokes. But keep quiet, whatever you do.”

  “Oh no. It’s Dad, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. He called my dad a little while ago looking for you. Dad couldn’t talk him out of it.”

  “He drove over here?”

  “No, and this is the cool part, Lloyd. Your dad took a taxi. He knew he was too drunk to drive.”

  “Wow. That’s never happened before.”

  I was about to answer him when we heard the patio door slide open. “I’ve got a little space heater out here,” Dad said. “I’ll plug it in and make us some coffee. Gimme just a minute.”

  I looked through the pipe hole and saw Mr. Blanton taking a seat. He blew a breath of air and watched the cold cloud rise from his mouth.

  I touched my fingertip to my lips, letting Lloyd know we had to be very quiet. I pointed to the pipe, to let him know I was leaving it open. He touched his ears and gave me a thumbs-up, which meant, Oh yes. So we can hear everything they say.

  We crouched on our knees, with our ears turned close to the pipe. Mr. Blanton spoke first.

  “I’m worried about my son. My wife is out of her mind.”

  “Is she afraid for Lloyd?” Dad asked.

  “Naw, nothing like that. That’s how crazy she is. I don’t know what to do with her. She don’t even care if Lloyd shows up or not. All she wants to do is ‘get some sleep and we’ll find him in the morning.’ That’s what she keeps saying. But I ain’t sleeping till I get ahold of that boy. He can’t just run around all night long. No telling what he and his buddies are up to!”

  Dad listened without saying a word, sipping his coffee and nodding in agreement. When Mr. Blanton paused and reached for his coffee, Dad spoke.

  “I can pretty much guarantee that Lloyd’s not partying with his teammates,” he said, slapping Mr. Blanton on the knee. “Not like you and I would have done, anyway.”

  “You got that right,” Mr. Blanton said, tossing his coffee down with one gulp, then spitting it on the ground. “Oh yeah, we knew how to party.”

  He shook his head and smiled, bringing back the memories.

  “See what I mean, Lloyd,” I whispered. “You and I have a lot in common.”

  “Yeah,” he answered, “we’re both members of DAA. Dad’s An Alcoholic.”

  I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. I’d forgotten our new version of the Boys Club. “This is maybe our most important meeting yet,” I said.

  “If you think back on
all we did, it’s a wonder we’re still alive,” Dad said.

  “If you call this living!” Mr. Blanton said.

  More silence as Dad let that thought slip in. He took another sip of coffee. “At least you don’t have to worry about Lloyd doing what Bobby did,” he finally said.

  “And what’s that?”

  “Bobby hid out somewhere all summer long. I didn’t know where he was. You remember me talking about it at the bar.”

  “Wasn’t he with your wife? Didn’t she leave?”

  “Yeah, she left. But Bobby didn’t go with her.”

  “Man, that musta been tough.”

  “I was too drunk to worry about Bobby,” Dad said, and this must have hurt him to say. He knew I was listening. But he had a good reason for saying it. He wanted Mr. Blanton to get a glimpse of what life was like for Lloyd. “You must care a lot about your son, to come looking for him in the middle of the night.”

  I glanced at Lloyd. I couldn’t see his face, but I could imagine what he looked like, jaw dropped and fighting away the tears.

  “I’m sure he don’t know it,” Mr. Blanton said, “but I do care for that boy. Did you see that last basketball game? Me and his momma can’t stop talking about him.”

  “We both have boys to be proud of,” Dad said.

  Lloyd turned away from the pipe and flopped against the wall. “That can’t be my dad,” he said quietly, not even trying to hide the tears. “If I wasn’t hiding out in this hole, he’d be whipping me with his belt. Or shoving me around the house.”

  I had to ask. “Has he ever hit you with his fist, Lloyd?”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished I hadn’t said it. But I had to know, and to my surprise, Lloyd answered right away.

  “He’s never busted my jaw, if that’s what you mean. Yeah, he’s hit me a few times. How’d you think I got so good at running up and down the court?”

  I couldn’t believe Lloyd was making a joke now, after midnight and hiding in a hole to get away from his dad. But, as I knew, that’s sometimes the only way to get by from day to day. You cry in private and joke when other people are around.

  “But he hasn’t hit me since he promised Coach Robison he wouldn’t,” Lloyd said.

  I tapped my mouth with my finger, for silence, and pointed to the pipe. We both leaned close to listen, and I looked through the hole. Lloyd’s dad was standing up and backing away from the table.

  This can’t be good.

  “I don’t know about that,” he said. “I’ve come too far to quit now. I’m bringing my boy home tonight,” he said.

  “So how about I drive you home?” Dad said. “You don’t have to call a taxi.”

  “It’s a school night! My boy is out after midnight! No way I’m going home and sleeping.”

  Talk about perfect timing. At first I was distracted by the light coming on in Mom and Dad’s bedroom. Then quickly the light flicked off again, and less than a minute later, Dad’s phone rang.

  Is Mom calling Dad? What’s going on?

  “Hello,” Dad said. “Yes, he is here. You want to talk to him? I’m hoping this is about Lloyd. Sure, here he is. Thanks, Coach.”

  Mr. Blanton balled up his fists and pressed them against his cheeks, rocking back and forth as he listened to the conversation.

  When Dad held the phone to him, he grabbed it.

  “You got Lloyd with you! You better have a good reason, and you better tell me now!”

  CHAPTER 10

  Midnight Express

  Mr. Blanton screamed at the top of his voice, shaking the phone hard and waving his fist at it. “I am sick and tired of you telling me what to do! I can call the cops on you, for having my boy out this late at night! Lemme talk to him! Now!”

  When he finally stopped yelling to take a breath, Dad eased the phone away from him. “Take it easy,” he said. “You’ve got a right to be mad. Let’s get you home now.”

  Dad opened the door to the house and motioned for Mr. Blanton to follow him inside. As he turned to close the door, Dad stepped outside, for only a moment, and motioned for us to climb out of the hole, pointing around the side of the house. We pulled the door aside and hurried out.

  Keeping in the shadows, we ran around the garage side of the house. Mom was waiting for us in the driveway, her car engine running. “Jump in,” Mom said. “Both of you! Quick!”

  Still not knowing what was going on, we did as we were told. We hopped in the back seat. In case we need to duck, I thought.

  “Mom, where are we going?”

  “We’re taking Lloyd home. Coach got a call from your mom, Lloyd. She was afraid for you and asked him to try to find out where you were. He guessed you were here, so he’s telling your dad that you are home now.”

  “Dad’s gonna be furious when he finds out where I was,” Lloyd said.

  “You were playing ball down at the outdoor court, late. And if anybody wants to know why, it’s because you were afraid to go home. Coach will be there when we arrive. He’s planning on staying around and settling everybody down.”

  “So Dad’s taking Mr. Blanton home?” I asked.

  “Yes, Bobby,” Mom said. “Your dad and Coach will both stay as long as they need to. Coach feels like it’s time for a serious talk. Lloyd, you have a lot of people looking out for you.”

  “Thanks. I just wish this could someday be over with.”

  “You’ve got one thing going for you, Lloyd,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re a senior. In a few months, you choose. Stay or go.”

  “Easy choice. The problem is where.”

  As we pulled into Lloyd’s driveway, the porch light came on. His mother peered through the curtains, and when she saw it was us, she opened the door.

  “Stay down, Bobby,” Mom said. Lloyd dashed inside, and Mom met Mrs. Blanton at the door. I couldn’t hear what she said, but what she did was pretty cool. She gave Lloyd’s mom a huge hug, kissed her on the forehead, and dashed back to the car.

  “That kinda seals the friendship, right Mom?”

  “You know it, son. Now let’s get home before Dad and his friend arrive.”

  “No problem there,” I said. “Knowing Dad, he’ll probably drop by the bar for a few beers. Just to seal the friendship.”

  “Not funny, Bobby. Not funny.”

  But she was shaking her head and smiling, so it was kinda funny, in a Choctaw way.

  By the time we arrived home, we were both yawning. “Nothing we can do but wait, Bobby,” Mom said. “Let’s get some sleep, and I’ll stay close to the phone.”

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, Bobby. I’ll wake you up with any news.”

  I climbed into bed, and the next thing I knew, Dad was knocking on my door and hollering. “It’s time to get up, it’s time to get up, it’s time to get up in the morning!”

  “I’m on it, Dad!” I shouted. “And I expect a full report over breakfast.”

  “Might be short. It’s a school day, remember?”

  Oh yeah. That little detail.

  I jumped out of bed and was dressed and ready to go in less than five. Dad was coffeed up, pump-fisted, and ready to talk as I made my way to the kitchen.

  “Waffles hoke?” Mom asked, serving me a double-decker plate of waffles and raspberry syrup.

  “Looking good, Mom,” I said, then turned to Dad. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Well, son, I guess you can tell by my upbeat attitude that nobody went to jail. Nobody got punched. Nobody got drunk.”

  “Wait, Dad. Wasn’t Mr. Blanton already drunk?”

  “Bobby, you want to talk or listen?”

  “Sorry, Dad,” I said, smiling. Dad was joking, but he was right. I could tell everything went fine at the Blantons’.

  “Lloyd was in bed when we arrived. I’m sure he wasn’t asleep, since me and Blanton got there maybe ten minutes after you and Mom drove away. But with Lloyd already in bed, Blanton had nobody to bully and yell
at.”

  “You think he would have yelled at Lloyd? Even with you and Coach Robison there?”

  “Bobby, he smashed a chair through Coach’s window, and he didn’t care who saw him. Yeah, sometimes a bully likes an audience.”

  “Oh, right,” I said. “Like Heather at the basketball games.”

  “Exactly,” Mom said. “Bobby, bullies are alike in one big way. They act like they’re king of the hill, in total control. But they are the most insecure people you’ll ever meet.”

  “And most of them grew up being bullied,” Dad said, looking at his coffee and showing a sadness in his eyes.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said, “we’re cool now. Mom wasn’t talking about you!”

  “I know, Bobby, but she could have been.”

  “Sorry, men,” Mom said. “I’ll be quiet and let you talk.”

  We all shared an easy laugh, a good family laugh. I finished my waffles and orange juice, and Dad tossed down his coffee.

  “Hoke,” he said, “Coach said he wanted you and Lloyd at school early again this morning, so grab your books and we’ll talk on the way to school.”

  “Time sure flies when you’re having fun,” I said.

  As Dad backed out of the driveway, he spoke in a more serious tone. “Bobby,” he said, “I wanted to talk to you alone. I’m not trying to keep anything from your mom, but I didn’t want to start her day worrying.”

  “What happened, Dad?”

  “We had a good talk, and Mrs. Blanton didn’t hold back. She told Blanton how Lloyd was afraid of him, just like she was, when he was drinking. ‘We never know what you’ll do,’ she said. And Blanton listened. He even said ‘I’m sorry’ a few times.”

  We were nearing the school, and Dad slowed down. I knew he had something important to tell me. I waited.

  “We’ll talk more later. I want to tell you something nobody else knows. And please don’t say anything to Lloyd about it.”

  “You can trust me, Dad.”

  “I know, son. So we were ready to go home, and Blanton stepped out on the patio. I followed him. He was breathing so hard you could see his breath in the cold air. I wanted to say something encouraging, Bobby, but something told me to wait, see what he had to say.”