The Dead Don't Dance by Charles Martin

Author:Charles Martin [Martin, Charles]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: book, Adult, ebook
ISBN: 9781595543271
Publisher: WestBow Press
Published: 2004-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

chapter seventeen

FRIDAY NIGHT WAS THE BIGGEST GAME OF THE year, according to Marvin. This was “The Rivalry.” Every school has a nemesis, and Digs’s was South Carolina Junior College.

Blue and I walked up to the fence next to the track and stood parallel with the goal line. The bleachers were filled with kids, and because dogs make some folks nervous, I put a leash on Blue. He looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

“Sorry, pal. It’s just for an hour or so.”

I leaned against the fence and looked up at the clock. It was the third quarter, and Digs was beating SCJC by a touchdown, 27-20. From what I had heard in the classroom, Digs had speed and a decent quarterback, SCJC had a running back named Thumper, and both teams had defense.

The Digger defense was on the field, and Russell was lined up on the far side as defensive tackle. SCJC snapped the ball, and the quarterback rolled left—to Russell’s side of the field. Russell ran over the offensive tackle and sacked the quarterback for what would have been a twelve-yard loss had the quarterback not fumbled the ball.

Players scrambled everywhere trying to pick up the pigskin. The stands erupted again in a wave of arms and a roar of penny-filled milk jugs. Out of the heap, Marvin came up with the ball and began running down my side of the field. His arms and feet were a blur. When he passed me, his face was a picture of gums, teeth, and unadulterated joy. He crossed the goal line twelve yards ahead of the nearest player, spiked the ball, and did some dance I had never before seen. Then Russell picked him up and they, and the rest of the defense, paraded to the bench. Score: 33-20.

I was saying something to myself about fast feet when I heard, “Hey there, Professor.”

I didn’t need to look. The seductive voice gave her away. I turned and said, “What? No sunglasses tonight?”

Koy reached up and pulled her sunglasses down from their perch atop her head. “How’s that?” she said.

“Much better. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Digs kicked off and tackled SCJC on about the twenty-two.

“So, what are you doing here?” Koy asked.

“Watching a football game,” I said, pointing to the field.

“Don’t most people do that from the stands?”

“Yeah, but I thought it might be too much for Blue. You know—all the noise.”

“Oh,” she said with a skeptical expression. She knelt down and rubbed Blue’s head. “What’s your story, Professor?”

“What do you mean, what’s my story?” I asked.

“I mean, what’s your story? Why’s a good-looking, upstanding guy like you teaching a loser class like ours?”

“You think you guys are losers?”

“Come on, Professor. We’re all adults here.”

“Well, I used to teach some, had a break in my farming, and this class came along. I saw it, applied, and they accepted me.”

“That ain’t the way I heard it.”

“It ain’t?”

“No, it is not,” she said in her best imitation of me. “Way I heard

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