A small town high school football team has gone largely unrecognized after forty years of consecutive wins and a young, ambitious reporter uncovers a stunning secret—behind the small town values and string of impressive athletic victories hides a bizarre pre-game ritual: each player must rub the bulging tumor of their school janitor for good luck. As the janitor's health begins to fade, the town unites around the local body politic to push for the world's first ever tumor transplant in a crazed attempt to save their winning streak. The transplant fails, creating even more fevered desperation to win at least one more game. The town’s proposed solution is both as sickening as it is outrageous: players will consume the tumor during a special called Eucharist served up by the town minister, thereby demonstrating just how far a group will go to stay on top in the ‘dog eat dog’ world of high school athletics.

This book is in no way meant to make light of the terrible disease of cancer, which took my grandfather and many others I have loved. It's a metaphor for a different kind of illness.

Chapter Fifteen

Ransom waited until midnight. The evening hadn’t gone well and Barton was ready to escort him to the county line tomorrow. The two bickered mildly back and forth about for an hour after they left the school. Paul maintained his position that he didn’t want to see his town side-swiped by any crazy stories. He used that excuse to keep Ransom’s line of questioning in order. Ransom thought about just telling the mayor he would be making something up anyway, but decided against it.

The Beethoven story took shape in his head while he waited on the noise in the house to settle down. Finally, around midnight Ransom figured it was safe to sneak out. He moved quietly and raised the window, then slipped out into the night air.

It was chilly, but nothing close to a night in New York City. Ransom zipped his jacket up around is neck toward his ears and started a slow jog out the driveway and toward the street. The school was about a mile and half from Barton’s house. He hoped the quiet walk there and back would help him put some meat onto the skeleton of his story:

Bethlehem High School… excessive exposure to classical music enhances physical performance. Pre-game rituals at a rural high school in Southern Alabama indicate that Beethoven’s music can increase concentration, coordination, and strength. This secret strategy has been in place since World War II and the town has gone to great lengths to protect it. They even have a code phrase – “The BLT,” which investigation reveals stands for “Beethoven Listening Therapy.”

Ransom took a deep breath. That wouldn’t do. He knew it wasn’t true and it really wasn’t interesting enough for anyone outside of the school’s football opponents to even raise an eyebrow. He’d have to do better. His job probably depended on it.

“Hey, wait up!”

Ransom froze at the sound of Kathy’s voice. Maybe he would be leaving faster than he thought. Ransom refused to turn around.

“Don't worry, I'm not going to tell. Where are you going?”

The girl came alongside Ransom, standing way too close. “I’m just walking to clear my head. I thought maybe I’d go to the school and back.”

“Sounds sneaky. Let me come with you.” She giggled a little and took three steps ahead of Ransom.

“If I don't let you come, then I suppose you'll tell your dad.”

Kathy kept walking ahead. “Nah. My dad can hold a pretty mean grudge. I wouldn't want that for you. I like you Mr. Ransom.”

“Just call me Ransom, everyone does.” He hustled up and matched stride with her. “You know you are the only person who seems to want me around.”

“We are a really private town. Besides, I'm like you... kind of an outsider.”

“Why's that?”

“Something that happened a few years back.”

“And...”

“And I don't want to talk about it.”

“What, did you give the wrong answer in Sunday School or something?” She didn’t answer, so Ransom decided to shift gears. “Well then, let's talk about Bethlehem High School?”

“What makes you think I'll tell you anything? Like I said, this is really private town.”

“That's cool, that's cool. But you know I already uncovered a little secret about this place. I think it’s going to make for a great story.” Ransom baited the hook.

“What?”

“The story of the BLT.” He pulled the line taut and prepared to set the hook.

“Who told you that?” Kathy looked alarmed.

“Doesn't matter.”

“I bet my dad was pissed off. Was that what you guys were fighting about tonight?”

“No, he didn't seem to mind about that. He was just frustrated because the area teams were going to know about it now. Maybe try to duplicate the process.” Ransom was gambling, but he felt sure she couldn’t tell.

Kathy stopped walking. “Then you are in big trouble.”

Ransom stopped also. “How so?”

“It's been a secret this long and you think you are just going to up and write a story about it?”

“That's the plan.” Ransom answered with confidence. His ruse was working perfectly.

“My dad is a very smart man. Maybe not smart in the same way you are, but trust me on this.” She continued walking in the direction of the school, and Ransom followed. “If my dad knows that you know and he acted like it was no big deal, you're in trouble.”

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