The pair quickly approached the school building. They hadn’t talked much over the past five minutes. Along the way, Kathy had reached out and grabbed Ransom by the hand. He had obliged against his better judgment.
He let go of her hand as they began circling the building, trying doors along the way.
“They’re all locked.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know, maybe that small town feeling of trust.”
“Follow me.” Kathy took Ransom by the hand again, this time leading him over to a window near the ground. With a slight push, she opened it and rolled inside. Ransom followed.
Inside, Ransom dropped onto the floor of a typical high school classroom. Desks were moved into a circle in the center of the room and a huge American flag hung across the blackboard. Right under the window, Kathy rested on the floor, flat on her back. Ransom reached down and offered her his handfor alift up, but Kathy grabbed hold and pulled him face down on top of her.
“Finally. I was beginning to think you didn't like me.” She released his hand and slid her arms up around his neck.
“You are way too young for me.”
“It's not always the age that counts.”
“Well, for now it will have to be.” Ransom said, standing up and dusting off his pants off.
“You're not gay are you? I mean, if you are that's cool and all, just don't tell anyone around here.”
“I hate dirt.” Ransom continued to feverishly dust off his clothes. “And no, I'm not gay, far from it. I just don't want to give you the wrong impression. I'm leaving in the morning.”
“No duh. Knowing that up front makes it easier for both of us, don't you think? Besides, I have the information you want.”
“Are you blackmailing me into having sex with you?”
“How's about we start this way. I will let you ask me a question for every kiss you give me.”
Ransom thought about it for a long second.
“Man, you are gay aren't you?” Her words were all he needed. Ransom hoisted her up from the floor and pulled in his arms. He looked at her intently, leaned in, and kissed her. Her lips were soft and moist, which surprised him given the night air and the trek they had just taken. She tasted like raspberries, but Ransom was far from intoxicated by the young girl.
“What is the secret to this town’s winning streak?” Ransom asked after he gathered his thoughts.
Kathy looked at him and shakes off the power of the kiss. She turned her shoulder away from Ransom and began to move toward the door.
“Fair enough. You were right. The BLT is the secret.”
“What is the BLT?”
Kathy stopped and turned back to Ransom. “No, no. Another kiss first.” This time, she initiated the kiss, it was much longer than the first, and Ransom was obviously affected. His response came much slower.
“What's the BLT?”
“They have to be yes, or no questions.”
Kathy held his gaze and smiled. It was enough for Ransom to realize he was getting played. “You never said that. Just forget it.” He turned away and started walking toward the door of the classroom. Kathy hurried along after him.
“Hey, I thought we were having fun. Why are you so serious?”
“Maybe, because it's my job. Maybe because my editor says I've not produced a good article all year. Maybe because he fronted the expenses for me to come down here to Who-ville and write him a story. And maybe because if I don't get what I camefor, I'll lose my job.” Ransom never turned around to face her as he spoke. He turned the handle to the door and walked the hallway of the school.
“Wait up.”
This time he did turn to face her and there was an uneasy moment of silence before Kathy finally spoke up. “You know if I tell you, my life may be in danger.”
“Save it.”
Kathy’s agitation spilled over. “Think about it, Ransom. We've not lost a game in 37 years. You think folks in this town are just going to give all that up for your story? You think they are just going to let you waltz in here and take all this away from them?”
“It's a crap story for a crap tabloid magazine. People are taking me way too serious. I'm flattered, you believe so many people read my articles, but it just ‘ain't’ so. You Beethoven loving rednecks really believe you have some kind of magic here. You’re probably the kind of idiots that keep the magazine I write for in print.”
Kathy put both hands on his shoulders. Her smile and the play from just moments ago had totally evaporated. “Listen to me. I'm going to show it to you, partly because I don't care about this town anymore and I want out; but mostly because I like you.” She took Ransom by the hand and marched straight down the hall.
“You’d better not tell a soul that I was the one who let you in on this.”
A novel, presented in chapters.
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.
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