Coach by Walt Sautter (most difficult books to read txt) 📖

yelled with an angry snarl.
“Yeah! We don’t want no losers and quitters like you two even near our field” contributed Jake.
With that they moved even closer.
“You know the other day, that shit you said about me, I shoulda killed ya for that, right there. I didn’t cause Coach was right next door and I didn’t want him comin’ in an hearin’ all that lyin’ shit you was sayin’ about him too.
But now Coach knows what you said so I can beat the shit outta you with no problem” threatened Howie.
With that he lunged towards Ricky, tackling him to the ground. I reflexively grabbed Howie around his neck, trying to pull him off Ricky only to feel a solid blow to the back of my head. I immediately rolled off the pile to the side onto my back. Lying there I saw Jake’s booted foot in front of my face.
“Stay right there, boy. Don’t ya move an inch or I got another shot for ya and this one’s gonna be right in your ugly fuckin’ face” he said as he cocked his foot back in preparation for the next kick.
Meanwhile, Ricky handled himself well. He managed to get back to his feet and deliver several punishing blows to his aggressor. Howie stepped back, wiped the trickle of blood from his nose on the back of his left hand and waved to the others with his right.
Then the others stepped into the melee, dragged Ricky to the car and pinned him against it allowing Howie to fire at will. When his anger was satisfied he and Jake pulled Ricky to the pond and threw him in headfirst.
“That’s the end of that. Say somethin’ else and the next time you won’t be able to get outta that pond” yelled Howie as Ricky struggled to scramble to his feet in the waist deep, icy water. He waded over to the shore and pulled himself up the bank.
I sat up and began to stand as the five climbed backed into the car and sped off. Ricky emerged and stood by the edge of the road shivering violently in the brisk autumn breeze.
“That’s about it for that idea of yours” he said in a quivering disgusted voice.
“I’d rather die than give that prick any satisfaction now. I don’t give a shit what he thinks he’s gonna do to me.
Fuckin’ queer!”
“Hey man!” I replied, “We gotta get you some dry clothes before you freeze to death and patch up your eye and your lip. Let’s go over to my house and we’ll get you changed.”
My house was about a quarter mile away and we hurried in a jog to it with the squish - squish of Ricky’s waterlogged sneakers keeping time all the way. When we arrived, my mother met us at the door.
“What happened?” she exclaimed.
“How did you get soaked and what happened to your face?”
“Ah, well we were skimming rocks on the pond down by the field after the game and he slipped on a log by the edge and fell in” I quickly interjected.
She took another look at Ricky.
“And your face? What about that?” she continued this time looking for Ricky to answer.
A moment of silence persisted.
“I hit it on the log when I fell.”
She turned to me and I immediately knew by her look that our answers were far from convincing.
Then, she said with raised eyebrow, “Well, okay! Go and get some of your old clothes for him.”
“You go and dry yourself off and change” and she motioned Ricky.
Dried and changed he emerged from the bathroom.
“Let me see if I can fix up some of those cuts that you got from hitting that log” Mom said sarcastically.
“Sit over here” she commanded and he complied.
He winced and groaned as she dabbed the wounds with alcohol saturated cotton swabs. She worked like an expert cut man in a boxer’s corner between rounds. When the job was done, the blood flow had ceased and swelling became to dissipate. The black eye was still apparent however. The ice pack that he held against it was doing little to diminish its discoloration.
“Can I use the phone to call my father?” he requested.
I handed it to him and a half hour later a horn blew in front of the house. I watched out of the front window as he got into the car. I could see a heated conversation ensue almost immediately. They stayed parked for several minutes and then drove off.

Chapter 5
Monday morning came much too soon. Back to the icy atmosphere of Highburg High. Back to the glares, sneers and cold shoulders. It was certainly nothing to look forward to.
I went to my locker. I crammed my coat into it and pulled out the stuff for the day’s classes. I slammed the locker door, twisted the combination dial and looked up.
“What the fuck happened to you?” I said in a startled voice.
“What happened to your other eye?” I exclaimed.
Ricky’s left eye was still a bit blackened looking as if it had started to heal but now his right eye was swollen and cut too.
“God damn log again” he replied.
“Come on man, what happened.”
I kind of thought I knew after having witnessed the confrontation between him and his father in the car. He probably gave his old man the same story that he gave my mom but the old man didn’t go for it either. The difference was however, when Ricky’s father didn’t believe his stories, instead of just blowing it off; he just proceeded to beat the true out of him.
“My old man didn’t like my log story” he replied.
“I get it,” I answered.
“That’s not all of it,” he continued.
“I had to tell him the whole thing.”
“What do you mean ‘the whole thing’?” I asked nervously, afraid of what I thought I might hear.
“You know! The whole Coach and Howie thing we saw” he blurted.
“I had to. Not only cause he was beatin’ the shit outta me but cause I didn’t want him to keep thinkin’ I left the team because I was a quitter.”
He paused.
“You know, now I’m glad I told him. At least I got a chance to tell somebody who really believes me and I know he does. He knows that I never lie when he’s whippin’ me.”
“So what did he say when you told him?”
“He was real surprised like us. He almost couldn’t believe what I was tellin’ him but like I said, he knows I never lie to him when he gets to the whippin’ part. He knows too that I would never make up a story like that if it wasn ‘t true.
Then he got plenty pissed, not at me or you but at Howie and the guys that beat me up, especially when I told about him callin’ me a nigger and all”.
“Then what?” I asked.
“Well, went out, got in the car and drove right to the cops. He said he told the cops exactly what happened and -”
“He told the cops the whole story, about Coach and all?” I interrupted anxiously.
“No, I don’t think so. He said he just wants those guys picked up for beatin’ me up. He said the cops didn’t seem too eager to do it, Howie bein’ the town hero and Jake bein’ the sergeant’s nephew you know.
The cops didn’t say they weren’t gonna do much but that was what he thought from the way they all acted. They did say ‘they would look into it’ what ever that means.
Dad said he wants them to get back to him and tell him what they find out, so we’ll see. I know my old man. He was pissed and when he gets pissed he stays right on stuff. He’ll be on them cops like flies on shit until he finds out what’s goin’ on.”
The school late bell began to ring and we both scurried out in opposite directions to class.
It was ten twenty-five exactly. I know because third period had just begun when there was a knock on the classroom door. Miss Rupert opened it revealing Mr. Robertson, the school principal. He whispered quietly to her and then he motioned me to come to the door.
“Mr. Crane, come with me” he commanded and I followed down the hall to his office.
He opened his office door and there seated before his desk was Ricky and Howie with Police Chief Simpson seated between them.
“Sit down son” and he pointed to the empty chair next to the Chief.
“We seem to have a problem here boys” he started.
“First we want to find out what’s going on here and then we’re going to straighten it out once and for all,” announced Mr. Robertson, sternly. He then cast a solemn stare at each of us, one at a time before continuing.
“Let me here from you first” he said looking straight at Ricky.
“What do you mean?” he replied vainly feigning ignorance.
“What do I mean? Did you look in the mirror this morning?”
“Yes”-answered Ricky.
“Then you certainly must have seen what I mean! What happened? I want to hear your story. Let’s go,” snapped the principal.
“I got beat up,” replied Ricky.
“I kind of thought so” again snapped Mr. Robertson.
“We, that is the Chief and I, want the whole story. Now, let’s have it, the whole thing. No more stupid one liners.”
Ricky leaned back in the chair, with his hands folded in he lap, nervously tapping his left foot quietly on the floor.
He began to speak with eyes cast downward.
“Beamy and me were walking home after the football game”.
“Beamy and I were walking” interrupted the principal.
“Right!
“Beamy and I were walking home after the football game and Howie and a bunch of guys pulled up in a car and they all jumped out, beat me up and threw me in the pond down by the field. That was it. Then when I got home my dad made me tell him about it” Ricky concluded.
“Is this all true?” said Mr. Robertson looking straight at me.
“Yes” I stammered.
“Is that what happened?” he questioned Howie.
Howie silently nodded.
“There’s got to be more to it than that! Why?” he continued asking Howie.
“He deserved it after what he said” came the reply in a low tone.
“What did he say?”
Silence persisted.
“I said, what did he say?” ordered Robertson.
“I was only foolin’ around one day after practice. I was only teasin’ him” Howie began.
“Callin’ me a nigger! Teasin’!” erupted Ricky.
“That aint teasin’ where I come from, that fightin’ stuff!”
“You be quiet!” Robertson addressed the outburst and then continued to interrogate Howie.
“Did you call him that?” he asked.
“I don’t remember” came the halfhearted answer.
“Did he?” and Robertson looked at me.
“Yes he did,” I answered meekly.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure” I replied with a bit more courage.
Robertson leaned back, raised his hand to his chin and gazed into the distance for a moment. Then he addressed Howie.
“If you called him a name, why did you and your guys then beat on him? I would think it should be the other way around? I don’t quite get it.”
“Well, that isn’t all there was to it” replied Howie.
“He called me a queer!”
“Called you a queer. So that’s a reason to beat him up?” queried the principal.
Howie looked down at his hands folded in his lap.
“That aint all he said. He said Coach and me were queerin’ each other. That’s what really made me mad. Everybody loves Coach. Look what Coach did for me.