Author's Note: This post was originally an entry for a writing contest for the Chicago Tribune back in February, but due to the pandemic, I'm sure the contest is off, citing more important issues at hand. My entry was featured on the online magazine, Daughter of Ani in July, and now I'm featuring it here on the Literature Lounge. Enjoy!
Hi,
I’m Gabriel Chabert. To tell you a little more about myself, I’m a retired
football coach who was born in the cajun town of Lafayette, LA. and raised in
the state’s capitol, Baton Rouge. I paid my dues through the ranks of college
and the pros as a graduate assistant, scouting coordinator, running backs
coach, offensive coordinator/quarterbacks coach and finally, becoming the head
coach of the Boise Bombers.
Some
call me a legend; some would say I was overrated, having only won one of my
three Pinnacle Crown Championship appearances. Oh well, you can’t please
everybody. Anyway, I was known for my offensive approach; a lot of vertical
passing mixed with intermediate passing and the run game. For years my offense was
known as “Da Bomb Offense,” as a reference to the team’s name and of course,
the aggressive nature of my offense— and defense, I might add— that has made
nearly every quarterback that I’ve coached at least an All-Pro at some point in
their careers.
Ah,
I miss the old glory days in Boise sometimes. Anyway, enough of me rambling on
about my past life in the grid iron world. That’s not what I came to talk to
y’all about, well, not mainly. He-he. I’ve moved back to Louisiana, namely New
Orleans, since then. As I sit here lounging in front of the lake near my 6,000
square foot mansion, I can honestly say as much as I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my
career and everything that led up to it, it’s my personal and love life where
this is the happiest I’ve ever been. It makes me ponder, is love really
so strong that even if you pick the wrong one, it will come back and revisit
you until you get it right? Is that possible?
Aside
from that, have you ever felt as if something has happened to you before? Or to
quote the cliché, “Did you ever get that feeling of déjà vu?” I know I’m
sounding strange and all over the place, perhaps I’m spooking you out, but
stick with me, I’ll explain everything.
As
I alluded to a moment ago, my career was on fire, but my marriage was in the
dumps. After college, I married Abigail “Abby” Oliver, “The Most Popular Girl
in School” and the prom queen. I must admit, she was smoking hot. Besides a
beautiful face, she had a petite frame that attracts guys such as me, along
with an inviting smile that sealed the deal. I know you’re asking, if she was
so gorgeous and coveted by majority of the guys, how did your marriage end up
in ruins? Well, I’ll tell you. First of all, everything I described was on the
outside, the exterior. A lot of guys don’t consider if the woman has a quality
character. They see whatever it is about the woman they like, and the spell has
been casted, so to speak.
This
was a hard lesson I had to learn being with Abby. Man, you talk about someone
being entitled. The whole world and everything in it revolved around her, and
boy was she a nagger. However, according to those on the outside looking in, I
had the “perfect” marriage and was living the “dream,” which would be an
attractive wife and two children, Hunter and Casey, whom I love dearly— the
children, I mean. The only thing that was missing was the dog. I had 2 out of
2.3 children. What’s a third of a child, anyway?
Everyday,
either when I was going to work or if I was dropping the kids off at school, I
would see this butterfly. It would zip and zigzag all around me, which Hunter
and Casey— my son and daughter, by the way— thought was so funny. Seemingly
every day, like clockwork, this butterfly would buzz around me. I know this
sounds strange, but after a while I started to wonder if it was trying to tell
me something. Seems like it had been going on for years. I never told anyone
this, until now.
One
day, after another argument with the wife, I had to take a drive, ya know, just
get away for a while. I decided to drive to Pete’s Boise Bistro or known simply
as “Pete’s.” It was my favorite spot in Idaho. His steaks were amazing, but his
potato dishes were the best this side of the cosmos. I was a huge fan of his
famous Pete’s Potato Bowl, filled with chunks of steak or chicken, corn and black
beans all covered with cheese. They knew who I was, and what I wanted most of
the time when I went there. Ah, I can taste that potato bowl now. Anyway, as I was saying, while I was driving
to Pete’s, the memory of one Lucy Dreams came to mind. Lucy Dreams. I
always loved her last name. It was such a…breath of fresh air.
She
wasn’t bad to look at either back in high school. She had bleach blonde hair
that she sometimes wore in a bun, an infectious personality that could possibly
bring nations together, but besides that, the main thing that drew me to her
were her dreamy blue eyes. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, but
when I looked into hers, I think I saw something celestial.
She
was always nice to me. Whenever she saw me, she would smile and say hello. Then
again, Abby did the same thing when we were in high school, but looking back,
it could’ve been because I was the quarterback on the football team. With Lucy,
it was always genuine. During class, I would happen to glance in her direction
and our eyes would meet and she would smile.
A
lot of people thought we were perfect for each other. Although I was the star
quarterback, I was pretty much the black sheep of the team, the odd ball— if
you will. I didn’t do a lot of the things that the other athletes participated
in, so while I was a “surgeon” and a “beast” on the field, I was labeled
“weird” and “nerdy” off the field. Lucy, despite being a pleasant view, was
also often looked at as if she had ten heads.
It’s
funny because we never dated in high school, but we were very close. I remember
some of the weirdest things would happen when I was around her. One time, I
left my Calculus book at home, but I didn’t realize it until after my mom
dropped me off at school. I had 20 minutes before the bell rang for 1st
period, so I had time to go through my bag to see if it was there. Nothing. I
sat there on the bench; frustrated, disgusted. Then, I felt a hand gently touch
my shoulder. I looked up and found myself staring right into these dreamy, blue
eyes.
“What’s
wrong?” She asked.
I
sighed. “I left my Calculus book at home.”
“Oh
no.”
“Exactly.”
“We
have an open-book quiz today. You can’t contact your parents to get it for
you?”
“Nah.
My mom is on her way to work and my dad is already at work.”
“Well,
explain to Mr. Stevens what happened.” She suggested. “Maybe he will let you
borrow one of the extra books for today.”
“I
can try, but it’s an automatic ten-point deduction from my test score if I do
that.”
“Well,
a 90 is better than a zero.”
“True.
I’ll see what I can do.”
She
smiled. “That’s the spirit.”
Five
minutes before the bell, I sat in Mr. Stevens class, bracing myself, waiting
for him to enter. He usually had his door open for students to enter five
minutes in advance. For some reason, I decided to look in my book bag one last
time before Mr. Stevens walked in, I guess hoping that the book would magically
appear. I looked through my things, and I’ll be dipped, the book was there!
Once again, I felt a sudden gentle touch on my shoulder and saw those blue eyes
when I looked up.
“Hey,
you looked shocked.” She said.
“I
am. I found my book.”
“Really?
That’s great! Where did you find it?”
“It
was in my book bag.” I replied. “It’s weird because it wasn’t there 15 minutes
ago. I nearly ransacked my things looking for it, and it wasn’t there. I’m sure
of it.”
“Well,
maybe you were overlooking it.”
“I
guess. I’m just glad that I have it.”
“Me
too. I’ll talk to you after class.”
“Okay.”
You
know what? Come to think of it— man, this is weird— there was another instance
where I created this volcanic lava cake for my Home Economics project the night
before. On a side note, Abby was a better cook, but I was hands-down a better
baker. Anyway, Rufus, the family’s pet Boerboel, ate it. Yes, the dog literally
ate my homework! I took pictures while he was feasting on my assignment. Devastated
doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. I was so perturbed I wanted to sell him.
Where
it gets weird is that not long after fuming over Rufus’ dastardly deed— or
should I say greed? — I went to sleep, and I had the weirdest dream. In the
dream, I saw that same butterfly flying over a land of pastries, of all things.
I followed the butterfly to investigate, but then I was awakened by the
telephone ringing.
It
was Lucy. I told her what happened. Her words of encouragement helped a little,
but it wasn’t gonna change the fact that I would have to start a new project,
and it was due the next day! As soon as I got off the phone with Lucy, the door
gingerly swung open and mom peeped her head in.
“Dinner’s
almost ready.” She said. She noticed the dejected look on my face. “What’s
wrong, Gabe?”
“Rufus
ate my class project.”
“What?!
Really? Let me check and see.” She closes the door. Two minutes later, she came
back. “Gabe, what are you talking about? Your homework is still on the kitchen
table.”
“Huh?”
I got up from the bed, grabbed the pictures I took and went downstairs. I
looked on the kitchen table, and there it was. “I don’t understand. I saw him
eating it.” I held up the photos. “I even took pictures.”
She
took a look at the photos. “Gabriel, he’s not doing anything but sitting next
to your father’s chair.” She said. “He always sits there.”
I
looked at the pictures again. “But I saw him…”
“Maybe
you imagined it. Did you have one of those dreams again?”
“Yes,
I did.”
“Perhaps
that’s what it was. Now, start getting ready for dinner.”
“Yes
ma’am.” I sighed and went upstairs.
Till
this day, I have no idea how that happened. I wasn’t imagining things. I only
let it go because I didn’t want to argue with mom. I know that dog ate my
assignment; I just know it. Everything’s coming back to me like a rush from a
tidal wave.
My
grandmother was one of those superstitious types. She told me — no — she
insisted that whoever I went to the senior prom with would be the one I would
marry. Even though some considered Maw-maw to be nutty, she usually wasn’t
wrong about these things.
That
night, Lucy stopped by the house to brainstorm some ideas about the upcoming
events for Senior Night, and mom talked her into staying for dinner. Mom and
Maw-maw were really high on Lucy; they loved her. They were captured by her
personality as much as I was. “That girl is gonna be your wife.” Maw-maw
would say. After that night, she was invited to come over anytime. She didn’t
come often, but when she did, she was greeted with “How’s my daughter-in-law?”
by mom. Lucy would smile and take it in stride. She took everything in stride;
she was so serene, never got too high or too low about things.
I
remember Lucy and I sittin’ on the porch swing that night, and while we were
talking, a butterfly zipped between us in the middle of our conversation.
“Darn
butterfly.” I recall saying.
“Be
nice.” She said with smile. “It just wants to keep us company.”
“I
guess.” I said with a chuckle. “I didn’t know they come out at night.”
“They’re
amazing creatures.” She said with such conviction— soft, sweet conviction, that
is. “They’re highly regarded among some tribes.”
“I’ve
heard. I never looked much into it, though.”
“By
the way, you were amazing last week.” She complimented. “That might’ve been
your best game yet.”
“Thanks.
Say, I have a question.”
She
looked at me inquisitively. “I’m listening.”
For
some reason, as much as we seemed to get along at school, the thought never
crossed my mind to ask her to be my prom date until right then and there. She
told me that Zach Martin asked her the day before, and a few guys before him, but
she told them she would think it over. Wow, amazing. All year long she was kind
of the forbidden fruit in the sense that despite most guys finding her
attractive, they thought she was strange, utterly strange, which kept a lot
them away from her once they got to know her.
I
think most people didn’t understand her. Often misunderstood myself, I totally
got her, and she was far from strange to me. When I gathered the impromptu nerve
to ask her to the biggest event of one’s high school years, now suddenly every
guy was in her face, namely Zach Martin.
Zachariah
“Zach” Martin. The star linebacker and co-captain of the football team— I was
the team captain on offense. We were on good terms last I checked, but it
wasn’t that way when I first met him. We were freshmen trying out for the team,
and my first encounter with him was him trying to bully me. He was a big guy,
and although I was tall, I was on the skinny side. I put on more weight as each
year passed.
After
practice he would jump in front of my locker with this devious grin on his
face, daring me to move him. The first couple of times he did it I let it go,
guys who were higher up on the depth chart at that time would tell him chill
and he would eventually get out of my way.
One
day, it was just me and him, and he jumped in front of my locker again. Now, I
as I’ve said before, I was tall, skinny and perhaps “nerdy” back then, but I
was and will always be a ragin’ cajun at heart. It was already a long day, plus
I was tired of his foolishness, so I shoved him so hard, the locker shook. He
came charging at me, and my dad’s wrestling training— he was a wrestling champ
in college— came back to mind.
I
side-stepped him and brought him to the floor with a double leg takedown, then
immediately went up top, putting him in a front headlock. He was a big sucker,
so he put up a fight, but my hold was cinched in and he eventually tapped out
just as the coaches walked in and broke everything up. I never really could
shake the “nerd” thing, but I did get the respect of my teammates.
By
our senior year, heck, by our sophomore year he was a nightmare for opposing
offenses. He became known as “Zach The Ripper”. He was revered for his
sideline-to-sideline range when pursuing the opponent, now, true to his
linebacker instincts, he was pursuing Lucy. The next day, word got around that
Lucy decided to go with Zach to the prom, and Abby still hadn’t found anyone,
to the surprise of many.
I
found it quite eerie how all of this came about. To confirm the rumor, a
picture leaked with Zach standing next to Lucy in the dress she planned to wear
for the prom, and Abby out of nowhere approached me about not having a prom
date. I hadn’t heard anything from Lucy to find out if the rumor was true or
not, and while I was frustrated with the sudden lack of communication, her
Houdini act really baffled me. In the midst of all the confusion, I bit the
bullet asked Abby to the prom…and she said yes.
The
next thing I knew, four years went by and I wound up marrying Abby. I never saw
Lucy again. The next 20 years of my life was a living you-know-what. Well, 18.
The first two years wasn’t so bad. The only thing that kept me afloat were the
children and my career. One night, after a hellacious argument and a threat to
divorce me and take custody of the children, I was at my wit’s end.
I
never prayed much, but on this night, I was out of answers. For the first time
since grade school probably, I got on my knees and prayed. I had tears
streaming down my face, supplicating, pleading for my life to change. I tossed
and turned before I finally went to sleep. I woke up and found myself sitting
on the porch with Lucy again. Once again, there was that butterfly, and there I
was asking Lucy to the prom. This time she said yes without hesitation. This
time we walked into the ballroom hand-in-hand. She was wearing that blue dress
that she wore in the picture with Zach.
She
was so beautiful, so stunning in that dress. It matched the color of those
mysterious blue eyes. I had the pleasure of gazing into them while we danced to
the last song of the night: Mariah Carey’s Butterfly. Zach was the prom
king and Abby was the prom queen again, but neither us cared. We just wanted to
be together. The limo our dads pitched in for took us to our destinations. The
first stop was Lucy’s because she was closer.
Before
she got out, I asked the chauffeur to give us a few minutes. Without
hesitation, I asked Lucy to be my wife. Shocked, elated and teary-eyed, she
said yes! I didn’t have the ring on me at the time; I accidentally left it at
home. I never seen her laugh so much in my life. She teased me for the next two
days about that. I wasn’t offended; thinking back on it, it was hilarious.
The
night before our wedding, she stopped by my house. She told me that she had
something to say to me and it required my undivided attention. I had a nice
candle lit dinner laid out for the two of us: steak and shells and cheese for
me, and some caponata pasta, for her. She never ate much meat. I made it all
myself, although I’ll admit I got the recipe for the pasta from mom years ago.
I always loved her caponata pasta; still do, actually. After dinner, we sat at
the table and held hands. Then she laid it on me.
“First,
I want to thank you for being so understanding and actually getting me all of
these years.” She said with a slight chuckle afterward. “Although the way some
people responded to me was uncalled-for, to be fair, I’m different from most.”
“Yes,
you are, but that didn’t give them the right to treat you the way some of them
did.” I chimed in.
“No,
you don’t understand. I’m different in ways your mind couldn’t imagine.”
“What
do you mean?”
“I
have the ability to manipulate time.” She revealed.
I
pull my hands from hers. Not to be mean, but out of state of shock. “Run that
by me again?”
“I
can warp time. I’ll elaborate: Do you remember when you left your Calculus book
at home?”
Confusion
and anticipation took over at that point. “Yes?”
“I
arranged it to where book wound up in your bag.”
I’m
not gonna lie, I was a bit skeptical. “But how?”
“You
didn’t see that butterfly hovering over your bag.” She said. “You were so busy
rumbling through it.”
“Okay,
but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything.
Those butterflies are my representatives.” She revealed.
“Wait.
Wait. Don’t get me wrong, I want to believe you, but this is a lot to digest.”
“I
know and I understand, that’s why I’m taking the time to tell you this.” She
said. “I know it will be hard to believe at first, but one of the things I’ve
always admired about you is your open-mindedness and understanding.”
I
took a deep breath. “Okay, continue.”
“Some
of those fellas are my messengers, some are more hands-on.”
“Wow.”
“About
the dog eating your homework.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do
you remember the butterfly you saw in your dreams?”
“Yep.”
“Your
subconscious communicated with me in another realm in request to reverse the
situation. Obviously, I obliged.”
“So,
that would explain the butterfly? Messenger, I assume?”
“Correct.”
“So,
you’re saying I had a lucid dream?”
“Something
like that.”
“I
appreciate the assist, but you had my mom thinking I was insane. I was even
wondering what was going on, that maybe I was imaging things.”
“My
apologies, but your volcano cake did win the 1st prize ribbon.”
“True.
Despite everything, you saved my rear that day. I can’t thank you enough.”
“You
deserved it.”
“Now,
a burning question: can you explain what happened prior to our prom night?” I
inquired. “Ya know, the rumor, the picture with you and Zach, your
disappearance?”
“The
rumor, well, I had no control over that. People saw me speaking to Zach and ran
with it, you how it is.” She replied. “The picture was actually rigged. Someone
managed to forge Zach’s prom picture with mine to confirm the rumor. My
disappearance? Let’s just say I felt guilty.”
“Guilty
about what?”
“When
you asked me to the prom back then, my answer was yes, but I decided to test
you by informing you that Zach and a few others asked me already. I wanted to
see if you would react or how you would respond.”
“So,
Zach and the other guys never asked you?”
“They
did, but I had no intention of going with them. I just wanted to test you, and
I let it go too far.” She started tearing up. “I couldn’t face myself when I
found out Abby asked you after the rumors about Zach and me gained momentum.
She always was an opportunist.”
“Wow.
Really?”
“I
mean, she was beautiful. I just knew I blew it when she asked you. I didn’t see
you turning her down.”
“I
wish I would have. What happened to you all those years? I never seen or heard
from you again.”
“I
passed by. Where do you think the butterflies came from when you were going to
work or dropping off Hunter and Casey to school?”
“Shouldn’t
you have known I was unhappy?”
“I
manipulate time; I’m not a telepath. Besides, you looked okay to me. I stood
back because I didn’t think you needed me anymore. When I heard you cry out
that night, I saw it as an opportunity to make things right, so here we are.”
“I
can’t think of a place I’d rather be.”
“I
would start that night over a thousand times if I had to, if that’s what it
took for us to be together.”
“So,
what happens to Abby? Just curious.”
“Well,
she marries Zach.”
“Wait.
Our children. What about Hunter and Casey?”
“They’re
Zach and Abby’s. If you desire to start over, we must start anew.”
There
were few hard swallows in my throat. Tears ran down my face because while I
didn’t care too much what happened to Abby, I loved those children. “I
understand. There are things in life that requires sacrifice.”
She
smiled. “I’m glad you understand.”
“One
more thing. What about my career?”
She
smiled again. “It’s yours.”
I
breathed a collective sigh. “Thank goodness.”
I
took Lucy’s hands in mine. At that moment, a butterfly flew in and hovered over
the fire lit from the candle placed between us. It flapped its wings immensely,
fanning the flame from the candle until a bright light consumed the room.
So,
here I am. I got to keep my career, and everything is just the way it was,
except I’m married to Lucy instead of Abigail, and we have four wonderful
children instead of two. “Maw-maw, if you’re listening, I guess you were right
after all.” Excuse me, I took a moment to look up in the sky. I couldn’t ask
for a better life, and I definitely couldn’t ask for a better wife. That’s my
story. I guess if nothing else, what I get out of this is sometimes you have to
take a step back in order to move forward. They say time heals all wounds, but
in my case, I experienced something that transcends healing. It’s more of a
rebirth on life.
The End
