Rain Dance: Four Novels by J.R. Rain

Author:J.R. Rain [Rain, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rain Press
Published: 2014-06-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifty-five

Two days later I was in San Diego, about an hour and a half south from Huntington Beach.

It was 10:00 a.m. sharp and I was sitting alone in a leather sofa in an ornate office overlooking the lush playing field at Qualcomm Stadium. The field, as viewed through the massive window, was empty.

The office was covered with photographs of past personnel and players. I recognized almost all of them, since football was my life. Not to mention, I had taken a particularly keen interest in the San Diego Chargers since their last offer.

I was dressed to the nines in khakis and cordovan loafers and a blue silk shirt that accentuated my blue eyes. At least that’s what I’m told.

A door opened and a little bald man with gold rimmed glasses came in. He saw me, smiled brightly, and moved over to me with surprising speed. Of course, it shouldn’t be too surprising, Aaron Larkin had been free safety for the Chargers for most of his career in the seventies. In the seventies, he had not been bald.

“My God, Knighthorse, you are a big boy,” he said, pumping my hand.

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

He laughed and gestured for me to sit. He moved behind his black lacquer desk and took a seat. Larkin leaned forward eagerly and laced his fingers together before him. His fingers were thick and gnarled and some seemed particularly crooked, not too surprising after a full career in football. Between high school, college and the pros, fingers were bound to get broken.

“We are very excited to hear from you,” Aaron Larkin began.

“Excitement is good. I am happy to be here.”

“Well, we had given up on you. Such a tragedy about your leg. But my God you have kept yourself fit. And we need someone like you badly. Hell, who doesn’t need a fullback nowadays?”

“Outside of football, few people.”

He laughed. “We want to give you a private workout in two weeks. If we like what we see we’ll invite you to training camp. We are honored that you’re here, Knighthorse. My God you were an unholy terror on the playing field. Your services could be very, very valuable to us. So how is the leg?” he asked, and his voice was filled with genuine concern, and for that I liked the guy immensely.

“It has healed completely.” I lied. It hurt like a motherfucker.

“An utter miracle. I watched you coming down the hall. There’s no limp to speak of.”

The hallways had been empty. He must have been watching me on some closed circuit TV. A sort of high tech surveillance to monitor my gait.

“Well, I’m a hell of a specimen.”

“Around here, they all are.”

We set a date for my mini-workout, and when I left his office, I waved to the little camera situated in the upper corner of the hallway.

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