“I’m not here for thanks, Coach. I didn’t save anyone. All I did Friday night was skip the bus and turn my back on this team when they needed me. I’m just asking you not to make the same mistake. I know that when you benched me Friday night you were just looking out for the safety of one of your boys. I can see that now. And I know that today you’re only trying to do the same for the rest of the guys. But right now I’m asking you to take the same risk that everyone else is willing to take. I mean, that’s football, right? Knowing when to take your chances? Well, we’re at fourth and inches, Coach, and it’s your call. Are we going to punt … or are we gonna go for it?”

CHAPTER 35

DON Paul Klevin lit a Salem. “I’ll tell y’all right now what this whole football deal boils down to . . .”

“Hold that thought,” Kip said. “Let’s finish ordering. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

Bernice asked Don Paul how he wanted his patty melt.

“Bloody, with pepper jack.”

“Sides?”

“Tater tots, okra, and limas. Dollop of honey on the roll.”

“Comin’ up.”

“Got any T-bones?” Kip asked.

“One left.”

“Char it. Don’t hold back on the A1. Beans, collards, and slaw. You can skip the honey. Matter of fact, skip the roll, substitute a sweet potato.”

“Bring me his roll,” Don Paul said. “And a root beer.”

“And coffee,” the men said in unison.

Bernice stabbed her pencil through her hair bun. “Don’t say anything till I get back.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

A clap of thunder rolled overhead as the jukebox faded out on a Tex Ritter and moved on to a Faron Young.

Kip lit a Winston. “They’re saying rain.”

“I heard a norther.”

“Hmm.”

They listened to the music and smoked until Bernice returned with the coffee. She took a seat on the stool opposite the booth.

“So what were you were saying, D.P.?”

“I’s sayin’ a front’s coming through. Amarillo is already under three feet of—”

“Not that. You were talking about this football game.”

“Oh, right. I was sayin’ that the sheriff would be crazy not to let those schools play this game.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re a die-hard football fan.”

“Maybe. But I’m also sayin’ it ’cause if those boys don’t settle their score on the field, all hell’s gonna break loose off it.”

“You really think?”

“Go ahead, Kip, tell her.”

Kip blew the steam off his coffee and took a sip. “Well, all I know is that the stage is set for something explosive to happen, one way or the other.”

“How so?”