Trophy case chapter 4

Trophy Case
                                           

IV

 

Determination drives us and time pushes us through.

  Look to the sky, is tonight going to be the flash of a falling star?  Maybe it will be that rare occasion, a comet that comes only once in a lifetime? 

  Determination drives us and time pushes us through. This was on my mind the day we dropped off our boy at preschool. “Have a great day Taran; I’ll pick you up when I’m done at work”.

  I turned to open the door; my legs grew weak. Looking back, I caught a glance of my bride, again with a tear in her eye. Her index finger pointing at her eye then quickly moves to her heart and stretches out pointing to her baby as he walks with his teacher. He paused, pointed his finger towards his eye and imitates his mom’s movements, except at the end he held up two fingers. Week after week, we would go through the same ritual. Taran was enjoying preschool and all it had to offer, our boy is growing up and all I wanted to do is stop time. However, time did not stop, quite the opposite it seemed to go in fast forward.

  Pulling into the covered entrance to the preschool, I started to daydream like many times before. I would not be dreaming about work, or the weekend, that day my mind took me back to the first time we dropped Taran off at preschool.  As I sat somewhat anxiously awaiting, the pictures in my head bounced back and forth like a pinball in bonus score. You see this is graduation day; his very special day, mommy would have his clothes laid out awaiting our arrival home.  A small tie and a card carefully place on top. Tonight we will be as proud of his crafted paper diploma as if it were declaration of the highest degree.

  Small groups of parents gathered around the auditorium I noticed the smell of perfume and a hint of body order. On stage, the teachers tried to settle the group of young girls and boys into order by name. My focus moved to a tiny hand in the back row waving to the crowd; I nudged the parent in the seat next to me. “That’s my boy, my little hero.”

  Taran fell asleep on the way home that evening after the graduation party, clasp loosely in his hands is his diploma. The look in mother’s eyes was the personification of love and pride. That day a milestone passed in Taran’s life. When we arrived home, I carried our little graduate to his room and gently lay him down into his bed.  Being ever so careful, I slipped the diploma out of his hands, leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. With a whisper I said, “Good Night buddy, I love you.”

  After tucking him in for the night, I set of like a special agent on a mission; I need to find a perfect box. In it will be memories of Taran’s accomplishments.  This would be my trophy case, not an oak cabinet with a glass door, just a plane brown box, written carefully on top it would read,

(OUR CHAMPION)

  In a flash, memories of preschool faded, each day brought a new adventure and this day was not like any other day.  As we pulled into the driveway, I felt a tug on my sleeve, “Look daddy…mommy is waiting for us to get home.”

  ”Yes she is bud, I wonder what she wants?”

  “Hey honey, what’s up?”

  “I just got off the phone with Taran’s youth soccer coach, we need to go, practice is in fifteen minutes”

  Soccer, this is going to be great, finally, I can go and watch my boy play sports. I will be there when he looks out at the stands; I have a chance support my boy.  l will be there every minute, every time he puts on that team uniform and steps onto the field.

  Over the next couple of weeks, we took Taran to practice. Unlike other parents, we stayed to watch as the coach tried to teach the fundamentals of the game. I would judge every little thing the coach did.

  Under my breath I murmured. “If I were out there, those kids would be super athletes in no time.”

  “Rite dear, you’re a legend in your own mind” His mother replied.

  “Well I’ll tell you this, coaching isn’t always about what you can teach its more about trust.”

  “Okay coach Bruce, you’re a legend…..”

  “I know Joyce, IN MY OWN MIND.”

  Saturday morning, I woke before my bride, made my way to the kitchen, pored cup of coffee and then to the back porch. As I took a sip, my eye moved to a blade of grass cradling a drop of dew, and my mind started to wonder. I felt like that blade of grass, and the drop of dew was our boy. Soon he will be grown and like the morning dew, his childhood memories will fade, only to return every once in awhile.

  Game time came very quickly that morning. The local soccer field will soon be crawling with anxious parents, grandparents, and family friends. As we pulled into the park, I scanned the crowd for Taran’s coach or some of his teammates.

  “There’s Coach Mark.” Taran blurted out from the back seat of the car. ”Do you see him daddy?”

  “Yes, I do buddy.”

  I had barely got the car parked and turned off the ignition when the back door of the car flew open, “Is it okay if I go, I really need to go daddy okay?”

  “Okay Taran. You have a great time, play hard and have fun.”

  “Are you going to stay and watch me play?”

  “Your mother and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Okay, love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  With a folding chair under both my arms, I lead my bride to the field then to the sideline, somewhere near the center. Not only did I find that perfect place. As a sign set in stone, my place on the sideline is where Taran always looked for me to be from that day forward. Soon after, the sound of the whistle echoed through the valley. The coach was on the field doing his best to direct his little athletes as they ran up and down the field like a flock of birds. Cheers rang out every time one of the little soccer players would break out of the pack with the ball. Then it happened, out from the pack with the ball between his feet was our boy. “Go Taran, run, go…, go…, go…, “kick it…, kick it now.”

  I know there was no way he could hear me but make no mistake, everyone else in the county did. Joyce grabbed my hand like a Boa constrictor; she squeezed with all her strength. Without saying a word, she looked to the heavens as if she were praying. Taran stopped in mid stride, backed up to get a run. With a somewhat awkward lunge, the ball went sailing into the goal. The roar of the crowd was as loud as I had ever heard; you would think it was the winning goal as the clock ticked down to zero at the world games.

  I think our little Taran took flight that day, at least it seemed that way. After his goal, he went running towards his coach, jumped into his arms in a victory celebration. I cannot remember who won that game although it just didn’t matter.

  After the last game that summer, Coach gathered all his little players together for the trophy presentation. Acting like a professional sports photographer, I made my way around the crowd of parents and with camera in hand; I paced back and forth trying to get that perfect shot. I think I went through two or three rolls of film, and with each shot, I would adjust the exposure and focus. A digital camera was something I would have eventually but for now. My cheep film camera would half to do.

  Saturday, with film in hand, we headed for our local super mart. As Joyce did her weekend shopping, I made my way back to the photo department. In my best handwriting, I very carefully filled out the information on the front of the envelope. After dropping the film into the slot; I felt like I needed to reach in and check my spelling and telephone number.

(THE O.C.D. THING AGAIN)

  Each day, I ran by our super mart to check for our pictures, and just like it stated on the sign at the photo department. (Three to five days for your prints to arrive) yep five days it was. The package was thicker than I had expected, but that is probably because I had marked double prints. My argument that afternoon was, if I had a digital camera I could print my photos at home and save paying for out-of-focus film.

  Here it came again a pocket of air was stuck in my throat, why this would happen each time I reflected, was beyond me. Painfully trying to swallow, a small tear formed in the bottom of my eye as I sat in the driveway thumbing through the pictures. Making my way into the house with I had one thing on my mind, I need to put the best pictures in the trophy case.

  My bride’s voice that jerked me back to the present, like the snap of the thumb and middle finger from a hypnotist, I was no longer in daydream land. “Honey I’m home, where are you at?”

  “Back here in Taran’s room.”

  “Did the pictures come in today?”

  “Yep; I’m looking at them now.”