Tim Begay thought his ears wouldn’t stop ringing. The cheering outside the high school had been almost deafening. The noise was an echo of previous times — times that Tim was sure were long past, now. Once he would have gloried in those cheers, but today they added to the knot in his gut. Nobody would be celebrating once he’d had his say.
He took a slug of the warm Coke, thinking it ironic that liquid close to battery acid should soothe his cramped stomach. The crowd out in the auditorium was expecting a hero to speak. What he had to say, though, wasn’t what they’d particularly like to hear.
He’d been a golden boy, all right. One of Tohatchi’s own, whose boyhood prowess in running had taken him to the Olympics in Sochi and beyond. By high school, it was clear Tim would be heading off reservation. He had a short stint at ASU, before the professional handlers elbowed his longtime coach aside, and groomed Tim to adorn a box of Wheaties. Being Native American was a plus, too; it made his story more romantic. Indian boy leaves rural poverty for the international spotlight as one of the fastest men on earth. When he won the New York Marathon two years ago, displacing the usual winners from Africa, the media went wild.
If only his life outside running had kept the same concentration. Principal Merton walked into the backstage antechamber with another can of soda. It looked nice and cold, with condensation running off the top and sides. His creased face broke into a sympathetic smile.
“Getting butterflies, Tim?”
“Sure. I hate to think how I’m letting them down.”
The older man’s face took on a fierce intensity. “You got something they need to hear. I’m all in favor of progress, but some tools need to be used with caution in mind.”
Tools! Tim knew he had nobody to blame but himself. In his worse moments, he blamed Samantha, too. Growing up, he’d kept himself focused. But falling in love with a contentious woman had been possibly the biggest mistake of his life. The newspapers had enjoyed their relationship. Sam had been Indian, also, from Oregon. She had broken into Hollywood through a combination of sheer drive, exotic beauty, and the all-important combination of luck and timing. Her role in a popular network series brought lots and lots of media attention.
The sound of introductions, since the Principal had gone on stage, and heavy applause cued Tim back to his immediate surroundings, his well-worn old high school. He tossed the soda can into a nearby wastebasket and plodded out onto the stage. A sea of kids’ faces stared up at him, all smiling. A boy in the front row, a little taller than the others, stuck his thumb up from a clenched fist.
Tim tested the microphone at the podium and thanked everyone for their attendance. Good thing they couldn’t see his shaking hands. Best to get it out…
(to be continued next week)
