Downtown Owl : A Novel (9781416580652) by Klosterman Chuck

Author:Klosterman, Chuck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2008-12-14T16:00:00+00:00

NOVEMBER 24, 1983

(Mitch)

“Post pattern,” he said. “Sprint upfield thirteen steps, plant your outside foot hard, and break toward the center of the field at a forty-five degree angle. The ball will be coming over your left shoulder. It should be a pretty deep route. Watch out for the flagpole.”

Mitch was speaking to his twelve-year-old sister.

Kate Hrlicka trotted toward the imaginary sideline and took her position as an imaginary wide receiver. She rested her hands on her hips and placed her left foot slightly in front of her right, mimicking the two-point stance of James Lofton (a Green Bay Packer whose football card she kept inside a music box). Kate was still built like a boy. “Red eighty-four! Red eighty-four!” yelled Mitch. “Down … hut hut!” Kate sprinted off the nonexistent line and counted the thirteen steps in her head. She planted her outside foot and broke upfield, which means she broke toward the barn. The hood of her sweatshirt flew off her head. Mitch dropped back five steps and heaved the football toward his sister. The throw was high. Kate had to jump and twist, but she caught it.

If women played football, Kate Hrlicka would not have to worry about how she was going to pay for college. If women played football, Kate Hrlicka would be going to Notre Dame for free.

“Nice route,” said Mitch. “You’re awesome.” As he spoke, clouds of white rolled out of his nose and mouth and slowly grew invisible. The air was twenty-eight degrees.

Kate flipped the ball back to her brother. “All I do is run under the ball,” she said. “You’re the quarterback. I could never throw anything that far. Not even a golf ball!”

“I’m a terrible quarterback,” said Mitch. “And that was probably as far as I have ever thrown a football in my entire life. But you are awesome. This time, I want you to run a hook-and-go: Go down ten steps, fake a buttonhook, and then break it back into a fly pattern.”

Kate jogged back to her point of origin and returned to her familiar two-point stance. Mitch rebarked the cadence. Kate counted the ten steps and pivoted inward; Mitch pump-faked the ball, freezing the imaginary defenders who were trying to stop his sixth-grade sister from going to the Pro Bowl. Kate made a rapid 360-degree revolution and sprinted down the sideline, which means she sprinted alongside a shelterbelt of evergreens. Mitch threw the ball as far as he could, actively trying to overthrow her. He failed; the ball nestled in her paws and did not move. Jesus, she was so good at this.

“You are awesome,” he said again. “I cannot believe how awesome you are. You are a witch.”

“It’s just fun to run after things,” Kate said. “Do you think it’s almost dinnertime?”

“Doubtful,” said Mitch. “Grandma isn’t even here yet. We probably won’t eat dinner until two o’clock. Let’s try a flag pattern. Do you remember how to run a flag pattern? It’s exactly like a post, except you cut to the corner instead of the middle.

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