Author's Notes: Disclaimer -- I don't own anything that you see in Remember
the Titans, obviously. Hopefully all goes well this time in posting it,
because recently we ran into a problem. Which reminds me, I wanna thank
"Isabel Tork" for posting this for me -- you're awesome! And I also want to
thank all my amazing friends for pursuading me to take the plunge and
submit it to fanfiction.net. I love you guys.
Hannah bustled her way through the angry mob of people who stood protesting outside the new school. Policemen struggled to hold them back, as they hurled vicious insults at the other side of black people. The small town of Alexandria, Virginia was preparing for integration, and it was turning the place into one big riot. Hannah clung on to her father, who pushed their way through the ferocious crowd. She breathed a sigh of relief when they got inside the building.
"It's awful crazy out there," she pointed out apprehensively. "Daddy, do you think I'll be safe here?"
"Don't you worry 'bout it, darlin'," he assured her. He pointed his finger towards a man behind her, and she turned to face him. He was a tall, handsome black man, wearing a brand new red T.C. Williams shirt and chewing a piece of gum rapidly.
"Ferrell?" he asked as he approached them. Mr.Ferrell nodded and held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Coach Herman Boone." Coach Boone opened the door to his office and ushered them inside.
"John Ferrell. This here is my daughter, Hannah." Hannah extended her own arm, and smiled warmly at the man. Her father continued. "You said you wanted to meet with us?"
Boone nodded. "I understand you were a journalist at your old school." he gestured to Hannah. "I've seen some of your work. I must say, Mr.Ferrell, you got a talented girl here." Hannah's father beamed with pride.
"It's pretty average stuff, really," Hannah replied modestly. "I'm just doin' it for the writing experience. I wanna make documentaries, once I graduate."
"I know that too. You got ambition, and I like that. I was wondering if you would be interested in documenting our football team. As you can see we've got ourselves a big situation here, what with the integration and all, and it would be a great opportunity for you to make somethin' of it. Now, it'll be some tough work. You'll be comin' with us to camp, to see the practices, and you'll also be attending the games. Yep, it's a big job, but I think you're just the one to do it." Hannah's face lit up with excitement.
"You really want me to do that?!" she questioned with dismay.
"Sure do," he said. Hannah turned to her father. "Oh, Daddy! Could I?"
"If that's what you want, darlin'." Hannah threw her arms around her father's neck in gratitude, then went to shake the coaches hand again.
"Thank you, sir. I sure do appreciate all you're doin' for me."
"Welcome to the team, Hannah."
"I just don't think it's a good idea, John!" Alice Ferrell insisted later that evening. Hannah bit her lower lip as she listened to her parents argue from the top of the stairs; something she recently found herself doing more often.
"C'mon now, Alice. Where's the harm in it? This is a great chance for Hannah to get out there and make a real good name for herself. That girl's got some amazing talent, we can't just throw that away."
Alice tossed down the dish she was washing. "But does she have to be involved in all this integration mess?! You know, she's takin' a mighty big risk by doin' this; how can I support something this dangerous?"
"She's 16, honey. She can fend for herself." Mr.Ferrell opened his book and began reading, when Alice bellowed after him.
"We aren't through with this conversation, John!" she shrilled angrily. "You know, you always do this! Always leave the argument as if I got no say in the matter. I'm real sick of it, really I am." Hannah jumped as she heard a door slam shut, then returned to her bedroom. Is it really worth it? she asked herself. There was something inside her that said it was.
We're gonna play some ball, y'all!" A voice echoed through the gym, as another black male entered the gymnasium, giving high-fives to his fellow teammates. Hannah glanced up quickly from her seat on the top bleacher, then returned to the roster Coach Boone had given her. Every once and awhile some of the guys looked up at her quizzically; she would simply smile politely and turn away, hoping to avoid any confrontation. It wasn't that she didn't like them because of their skin color; in a way, she feared they would judge her and think her to be prejudice.
Coach Boone stormed into the gym like a whirlwind, instantly setting the happy football players straight. She listened almost in shock, as the coach made an entirely different impression than what she had initially witnessed. He spoke firmly, with unmistakable intimidation, all the while keeping a stone-cold facial expression. She found herself swallowing hard at his tough exterior.
After the other coach, Doc Hinds, checked off the players, Coach Boone introduced Hannah to the guys.
"This here is Hannah Ferrell," he announced as she made her way to the bottom of the bleachers. "She'll be keeping track of the team throughout the entire season. You will treat her with respect, and consider her part of the team. Am I clear?"
"Yessir," they all replied in unison. Coach Boone turned to Hannah.
"They're all yours for the next few minutes," he informed her. "We'll be back." The two coaches exited the gymnasium, leaving Hannah alone with the group. She drew in a breath, and exhaled slowly, gathering the right words to say. They all stared at her blankly.
"Hey guys," she said softly. "How y'all feelin'?" Unenthusiastic mumbles were the major reply, excluding a couple, "Fine's."
"I ain't gonna be doin' much today. Just gettin' particulars. But I sure would like to get to know y'all..." she paused for a moment. "What y'all are doin -- well, I think it's real brave. I'm sure you'll be the best team out there." She smiled widely, and noticed the ease on many of the guy's faces. Okay, I'm getting somewhere, she told herself. She formally introduced herself to the guys, shaking their hands and asking about their pasts. She approached Julius Campbell and held out her hand, but he remained still, as if contemplating accepting her greeting. She chuckled slightly.
"Don't you worry, Mr.Campbell. I won't bite," she joked. He grinned slightly and shook her hand.
"There ain't too many like you out there," he told her seriously. "You sure you really wanna do this, you know, go against what most of yo' people are fightin' for?"
"I'm fairly new to this town," she explained. "Don't got anything to lose, just friends to gain." She went to the next person when the door slammed open, revealing a semi-large crowd of Caucasian people. They walked into the room in a threatening silence, barely making eye contact with the other people in the room. Hannah watched them as they got into a line and faced the other players, and one of the older men came up to her.
"Coach Yoast?" She assumed.
"Yes, that's me," he said. There was a soft look on his face, something that told Hannah not to be unsettled by him. "Is Coach Boone here?" he inquired as he scoped around for him.
"He stepped out for a few moments. He should be back anytime--"
"What is this?" Coach Boone walked towards Coach Yoast, staring at the newfound players. Their faces displayed contempt, but he continued looking, showing no sign of intimidation. Hannah quietly stepped back.
"I've decided to take you up on your offer, Coach Boone," Yoast announced. "These boys need motivation to stay on the team, and it seems as though this is the only way to do it." Coach Boone took in a deep breath.
"Alright, alright. I'm glad you changed your mind. May we discuss this outside?"
"We sure can." So they left the room to an uncomfortable silence, with two very distinct sides of people; blacks on one, whites on the other. They stared at one another as though they were foreigners, while Hannah stood dumbfounded in the middle.
"Who the heck are you?" one of the Hammond players asked her rudely.
"None of your business if you're gonna ask me like that," Hannah shot back. After a long period of uncomfortable silence, Coach Yoast and Boone returned, looking rather perturbed. Coach Boone went over the rules of football camp with the rest of the team, who remained completely still, barely even acknowledging him.
"That's all, everyone. See you at camp." Coach Boone exchanged another aggravated glance at Coach Yoast, then left. Hannah walked quickly out of the gym and through the school, relieved to finally be away from the tension filled air.
Hannah plopped down on her plush velvet sofa and tossed her notes to the side. The smell of fried chicken traveled through the living room, making her stomach growl.
"Mmm, smells good, Mama!" Hannah commended. There was no response.
"Mama? You in there?"
"Yes," Mrs.Ferrell replied dully. Hannah got up to go to the kitchen.
"What's the matter, Mama? You sound angry." The short, stocky woman turned around.
"That's because I am, Hannah."
"Well, what happened?" Alice shook her head.
"There's no need to discuss it with you. Just...just do whatever it is that you have to do for that football team." She waved Hannah off and returned to the cooking. Hannah stood bewildered, until she finally noticed a strange emptiness.
"Where's Daddy?" Alice, who was mixing up a bowl of salad, stopped and lowered her head to the counter. "He ain't here, Hannah," she replied solemnly.
Hannah sensed the immense problem of the situation. "Well, uh, where is he?"
"I don't know."
"What?" Hannah drew closer to her mother. "How could you not know? Did you two get in a fight?"
"I don't need to talk about this with you."
"He's my daddy! I have a right to know where he is."
"He isn't comin' back, Hannah! He's gone! He's gone, Hannah, and it's for your own good." Alice cringed in remorse, as Hannah's face fell and tears gradually welled up in her eyes.
"How could you let him leave like that, Mama?" she asked in a shaky voice.
"We just aren't in love like other parents. We're two very different people. It ain't gonna work out no more, you just gotta accept that," she explained in a softer voice.
"But--"
"I know you love your father," her mom interrupted. "And you always will. Heaven forbid I ever let that slip. But...he wants somethin' very different outta life. He wants somethin' different for you that I don't feel you should be gettin' into. Hannah, as much as you think differently, he ain't lookin' out for your well-being. He ain't lookin' out for nobody but himself." Alice placed her hands squarely on Hannah's shoulders. "We deserve better, you know."
Hannah removed herself from her mother's grip. "What, so this is it? You guys are givin' up?"
"Yes, Hannah." Hannah cupped her hand to her mouth.
"I wish there was more that I could do," Alice said.
"You've done enough. I'm goin' out for awhile." Hannah rushed to the living room and scooped up her bag as she headed out the door.
"Hannah, it's awfully dark outside! Couldn't you just stay here? We could talk about it!"
"I need to be alone, Mamma. Just let me be alone." Hannah thrust the door open and slammed it shut. Tears streamed down her face as the cold night air brushed against her. She didn't know where to go, who to turn to, but she needed to be away from her home. Maybe I could find Daddy, she thought to herself. Get his side of the story, and see if I could fix this mess. Hannah had a good clue on where to go. Her family had only been in Alexandria for a few weeks, and in that time there was no chance to meet people or go places, because of the riots. John Ferrell was completely and fully devoted to his work, and chances were that he was sitting in the new law firm where he planned on running his own business, working. Hannah made her way over there, using the dim street lights as her guide. She shivered, feeling stupid for forgetting to bring a jacket. Not that it was in her place to be thinking straight.
A guy wearing a Hammond High School letterman jacket stepped out of a record store, holding a Beatles album in his hand. Hannah saw him recognize her from across the street, and he made his way over.
"Were you the one who was at the meeting this morning?" He asked her.
"Uh huh," she replied blankly, continuing her stroll to her father's work.
"It's awfully late for you to be walkin' the streets," he informed her.
"I needed some fresh air."
"It's freezing outside. I can even see the goosebumps on your arm." The guy took off his jacket and offered it to Hannah. "Here."
She stopped to retrieve it, and thanked him sincerely. "That's real nice of you."
He saw the pain in her eyes when she stopped under the street lamp. Her eyes gleamed, and streaks of tear marks trailed down her cheeks.
"Everything alright?" he asked, concerned. She sighed and nodded.
"Just family stuff," she said.
"Yeah, I guess we all know how that is. I'm Gerry Bertier." Gerry offered her his hand to shake.
"Hannah Ferrell." Hannah looked down at the record Gerry was holding. "That's a real good album. Good choice." Gerry grinned widely.
"Aw, the Beatles are the best! Nothin' beats them."
"I couldn't agree with you more." They looked at each other for a brief second, as though something clicked. Hannah wrapped the jacket around her more tightly, as an awkward atmosphere took place.
"Uh...so what were you doin' at the meeting anyway?" Gerry asked her after noticing the tense silence.
"I make documentaries. Gonna be recordin' the whole football season." Gerry grunted.
"I'm surprised Boone actually let you keep doin' it; he stole everything else from Coach Yoast, anyways," he said bitterly.
"Actually, Coach Boone was the one that offered it to me. I couldn't thank him enough for the opportunity he gave me to do all this." Gerry said nothing in reply, just looked into the distance.
"I sure don't mean to pry or nothin'," Hannah said. "But what problem do y'all have with this integration business?"
Gerry clenched his jaw. "It's crazy. Just crazy," he answered in a monotone voice. "Did you know Coach Yoast was supposed to be head? Boone stole it right from under his nose. All these blacks goin' around acting as though we're still treating 'em like slaves. And look where it gets us: they get our jobs, and we're being looked at as though we're criminals -- it ain't fair!"
"I'm sure Coach Boone didn't intend to take Yoast's position," Hannah insisted. "He's a qualified coach. Runs a tough game. Maybe you should just give him a chance." Hannah spoke politely, so as not to make it seem as though she was angry.
"They don't deserve any chances. They've gotten all that they wanted -- isn't that enough?"
Hannah shrugged her shoulders. "I'm new here Gerry. I don't know all the background. But to me, it doesn't seem like they have all that much. Anyways, I'm sorry I brought it up."
"It's alright," Gerry said. "So, where did you move from, anyways?"
"Richmond. It's a big adjustment, comin' from a big city to a little one," she pondered aloud.
"That's strange. What made your folks move here?"
"It was mostly my daddy's choice. He's a lawyer, wanted to start a firm of his own. It's darn near impossible to do that in a town like Richmond. So, he thought it would be best if we came down here." Hannah stopped, and looked seriously into Gerry eyes. "It's not a bad thing, what my daddy's doin', is it?"
Gerry furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"It takes some real ambition to do what he's doing. He loves to be successful. That's okay, ain't it?" She bit her lip, waiting for his response.
"Well, sure it is," Gerry said. "That's how you get somewhere in life. With drive... is that what's botherin' ya'?"
"It's just that, my Mamma said that he's not treatin' us the way he should be. She says he should be spending more time with us. He's always encouraged me to achieve my goals, and my Mamma says that it's for his own satisfaction, not mine. I really never thought of it that way, until now. I just don't know what to believe." Hannah sighed and went to sit down on the bench close ahead of them. Gerry sat down next to her.
"She's gonna divorce him, Gerry," she continued. "She ain't in love with him no more."
"That's pretty messed up," Gerry said. He watched her, as she gazed up into the moonlit sky and tried to hold back tears. She licked her lips, then looked back at Gerry. "It's so pretty out here," she observed.
"Yeah, it is," he said. "It's therapeutic, you know, to just stare at the stars, and forget about everything else. I do it all the time."
"I do it, too," Hannah said with a amused look on her face. "Would you mind...I mean, you could stay out here with me, if you like."
"Sure, I'd be glad to." And so they sat, talking and stargazing, as they both set aside their pain and anger. A half an hour later, Gerry was walking Hannah back to her home.
"It sure was nice meeting you, Gerry," Hannah said while they walked up the driveway. "Thanks for talking, and listening, with me."
"It's no problem at all -- I had fun."
"Well, g'night." Hannah started up the walkway when Gerry called out to her.
"Hey, Hannah? Do you think it'd be alright if I gave you a call sometime?" Gerry looked timidly to the ground, and Hannah beamed.
"I would like that very much," she said. "Hang on a minute." Hannah jogged into her house and returned several seconds later with a pen. She looked around for a place to write her number, and shyly looked at his arm. "Um...do you mind?" She asked with an awkward giggle. Gerry snickered back.
"No, go ahead." Hannah gently held Gerry's palm as she wrote her phone number on the inside of his hand. "There ya' go," she said. "I'll talk to you later?"
"Yeah," Gerry said confidently. "You will."
Hannah bustled her way through the angry mob of people who stood protesting outside the new school. Policemen struggled to hold them back, as they hurled vicious insults at the other side of black people. The small town of Alexandria, Virginia was preparing for integration, and it was turning the place into one big riot. Hannah clung on to her father, who pushed their way through the ferocious crowd. She breathed a sigh of relief when they got inside the building.
"It's awful crazy out there," she pointed out apprehensively. "Daddy, do you think I'll be safe here?"
"Don't you worry 'bout it, darlin'," he assured her. He pointed his finger towards a man behind her, and she turned to face him. He was a tall, handsome black man, wearing a brand new red T.C. Williams shirt and chewing a piece of gum rapidly.
"Ferrell?" he asked as he approached them. Mr.Ferrell nodded and held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Coach Herman Boone." Coach Boone opened the door to his office and ushered them inside.
"John Ferrell. This here is my daughter, Hannah." Hannah extended her own arm, and smiled warmly at the man. Her father continued. "You said you wanted to meet with us?"
Boone nodded. "I understand you were a journalist at your old school." he gestured to Hannah. "I've seen some of your work. I must say, Mr.Ferrell, you got a talented girl here." Hannah's father beamed with pride.
"It's pretty average stuff, really," Hannah replied modestly. "I'm just doin' it for the writing experience. I wanna make documentaries, once I graduate."
"I know that too. You got ambition, and I like that. I was wondering if you would be interested in documenting our football team. As you can see we've got ourselves a big situation here, what with the integration and all, and it would be a great opportunity for you to make somethin' of it. Now, it'll be some tough work. You'll be comin' with us to camp, to see the practices, and you'll also be attending the games. Yep, it's a big job, but I think you're just the one to do it." Hannah's face lit up with excitement.
"You really want me to do that?!" she questioned with dismay.
"Sure do," he said. Hannah turned to her father. "Oh, Daddy! Could I?"
"If that's what you want, darlin'." Hannah threw her arms around her father's neck in gratitude, then went to shake the coaches hand again.
"Thank you, sir. I sure do appreciate all you're doin' for me."
"Welcome to the team, Hannah."
"I just don't think it's a good idea, John!" Alice Ferrell insisted later that evening. Hannah bit her lower lip as she listened to her parents argue from the top of the stairs; something she recently found herself doing more often.
"C'mon now, Alice. Where's the harm in it? This is a great chance for Hannah to get out there and make a real good name for herself. That girl's got some amazing talent, we can't just throw that away."
Alice tossed down the dish she was washing. "But does she have to be involved in all this integration mess?! You know, she's takin' a mighty big risk by doin' this; how can I support something this dangerous?"
"She's 16, honey. She can fend for herself." Mr.Ferrell opened his book and began reading, when Alice bellowed after him.
"We aren't through with this conversation, John!" she shrilled angrily. "You know, you always do this! Always leave the argument as if I got no say in the matter. I'm real sick of it, really I am." Hannah jumped as she heard a door slam shut, then returned to her bedroom. Is it really worth it? she asked herself. There was something inside her that said it was.
We're gonna play some ball, y'all!" A voice echoed through the gym, as another black male entered the gymnasium, giving high-fives to his fellow teammates. Hannah glanced up quickly from her seat on the top bleacher, then returned to the roster Coach Boone had given her. Every once and awhile some of the guys looked up at her quizzically; she would simply smile politely and turn away, hoping to avoid any confrontation. It wasn't that she didn't like them because of their skin color; in a way, she feared they would judge her and think her to be prejudice.
Coach Boone stormed into the gym like a whirlwind, instantly setting the happy football players straight. She listened almost in shock, as the coach made an entirely different impression than what she had initially witnessed. He spoke firmly, with unmistakable intimidation, all the while keeping a stone-cold facial expression. She found herself swallowing hard at his tough exterior.
After the other coach, Doc Hinds, checked off the players, Coach Boone introduced Hannah to the guys.
"This here is Hannah Ferrell," he announced as she made her way to the bottom of the bleachers. "She'll be keeping track of the team throughout the entire season. You will treat her with respect, and consider her part of the team. Am I clear?"
"Yessir," they all replied in unison. Coach Boone turned to Hannah.
"They're all yours for the next few minutes," he informed her. "We'll be back." The two coaches exited the gymnasium, leaving Hannah alone with the group. She drew in a breath, and exhaled slowly, gathering the right words to say. They all stared at her blankly.
"Hey guys," she said softly. "How y'all feelin'?" Unenthusiastic mumbles were the major reply, excluding a couple, "Fine's."
"I ain't gonna be doin' much today. Just gettin' particulars. But I sure would like to get to know y'all..." she paused for a moment. "What y'all are doin -- well, I think it's real brave. I'm sure you'll be the best team out there." She smiled widely, and noticed the ease on many of the guy's faces. Okay, I'm getting somewhere, she told herself. She formally introduced herself to the guys, shaking their hands and asking about their pasts. She approached Julius Campbell and held out her hand, but he remained still, as if contemplating accepting her greeting. She chuckled slightly.
"Don't you worry, Mr.Campbell. I won't bite," she joked. He grinned slightly and shook her hand.
"There ain't too many like you out there," he told her seriously. "You sure you really wanna do this, you know, go against what most of yo' people are fightin' for?"
"I'm fairly new to this town," she explained. "Don't got anything to lose, just friends to gain." She went to the next person when the door slammed open, revealing a semi-large crowd of Caucasian people. They walked into the room in a threatening silence, barely making eye contact with the other people in the room. Hannah watched them as they got into a line and faced the other players, and one of the older men came up to her.
"Coach Yoast?" She assumed.
"Yes, that's me," he said. There was a soft look on his face, something that told Hannah not to be unsettled by him. "Is Coach Boone here?" he inquired as he scoped around for him.
"He stepped out for a few moments. He should be back anytime--"
"What is this?" Coach Boone walked towards Coach Yoast, staring at the newfound players. Their faces displayed contempt, but he continued looking, showing no sign of intimidation. Hannah quietly stepped back.
"I've decided to take you up on your offer, Coach Boone," Yoast announced. "These boys need motivation to stay on the team, and it seems as though this is the only way to do it." Coach Boone took in a deep breath.
"Alright, alright. I'm glad you changed your mind. May we discuss this outside?"
"We sure can." So they left the room to an uncomfortable silence, with two very distinct sides of people; blacks on one, whites on the other. They stared at one another as though they were foreigners, while Hannah stood dumbfounded in the middle.
"Who the heck are you?" one of the Hammond players asked her rudely.
"None of your business if you're gonna ask me like that," Hannah shot back. After a long period of uncomfortable silence, Coach Yoast and Boone returned, looking rather perturbed. Coach Boone went over the rules of football camp with the rest of the team, who remained completely still, barely even acknowledging him.
"That's all, everyone. See you at camp." Coach Boone exchanged another aggravated glance at Coach Yoast, then left. Hannah walked quickly out of the gym and through the school, relieved to finally be away from the tension filled air.
Hannah plopped down on her plush velvet sofa and tossed her notes to the side. The smell of fried chicken traveled through the living room, making her stomach growl.
"Mmm, smells good, Mama!" Hannah commended. There was no response.
"Mama? You in there?"
"Yes," Mrs.Ferrell replied dully. Hannah got up to go to the kitchen.
"What's the matter, Mama? You sound angry." The short, stocky woman turned around.
"That's because I am, Hannah."
"Well, what happened?" Alice shook her head.
"There's no need to discuss it with you. Just...just do whatever it is that you have to do for that football team." She waved Hannah off and returned to the cooking. Hannah stood bewildered, until she finally noticed a strange emptiness.
"Where's Daddy?" Alice, who was mixing up a bowl of salad, stopped and lowered her head to the counter. "He ain't here, Hannah," she replied solemnly.
Hannah sensed the immense problem of the situation. "Well, uh, where is he?"
"I don't know."
"What?" Hannah drew closer to her mother. "How could you not know? Did you two get in a fight?"
"I don't need to talk about this with you."
"He's my daddy! I have a right to know where he is."
"He isn't comin' back, Hannah! He's gone! He's gone, Hannah, and it's for your own good." Alice cringed in remorse, as Hannah's face fell and tears gradually welled up in her eyes.
"How could you let him leave like that, Mama?" she asked in a shaky voice.
"We just aren't in love like other parents. We're two very different people. It ain't gonna work out no more, you just gotta accept that," she explained in a softer voice.
"But--"
"I know you love your father," her mom interrupted. "And you always will. Heaven forbid I ever let that slip. But...he wants somethin' very different outta life. He wants somethin' different for you that I don't feel you should be gettin' into. Hannah, as much as you think differently, he ain't lookin' out for your well-being. He ain't lookin' out for nobody but himself." Alice placed her hands squarely on Hannah's shoulders. "We deserve better, you know."
Hannah removed herself from her mother's grip. "What, so this is it? You guys are givin' up?"
"Yes, Hannah." Hannah cupped her hand to her mouth.
"I wish there was more that I could do," Alice said.
"You've done enough. I'm goin' out for awhile." Hannah rushed to the living room and scooped up her bag as she headed out the door.
"Hannah, it's awfully dark outside! Couldn't you just stay here? We could talk about it!"
"I need to be alone, Mamma. Just let me be alone." Hannah thrust the door open and slammed it shut. Tears streamed down her face as the cold night air brushed against her. She didn't know where to go, who to turn to, but she needed to be away from her home. Maybe I could find Daddy, she thought to herself. Get his side of the story, and see if I could fix this mess. Hannah had a good clue on where to go. Her family had only been in Alexandria for a few weeks, and in that time there was no chance to meet people or go places, because of the riots. John Ferrell was completely and fully devoted to his work, and chances were that he was sitting in the new law firm where he planned on running his own business, working. Hannah made her way over there, using the dim street lights as her guide. She shivered, feeling stupid for forgetting to bring a jacket. Not that it was in her place to be thinking straight.
A guy wearing a Hammond High School letterman jacket stepped out of a record store, holding a Beatles album in his hand. Hannah saw him recognize her from across the street, and he made his way over.
"Were you the one who was at the meeting this morning?" He asked her.
"Uh huh," she replied blankly, continuing her stroll to her father's work.
"It's awfully late for you to be walkin' the streets," he informed her.
"I needed some fresh air."
"It's freezing outside. I can even see the goosebumps on your arm." The guy took off his jacket and offered it to Hannah. "Here."
She stopped to retrieve it, and thanked him sincerely. "That's real nice of you."
He saw the pain in her eyes when she stopped under the street lamp. Her eyes gleamed, and streaks of tear marks trailed down her cheeks.
"Everything alright?" he asked, concerned. She sighed and nodded.
"Just family stuff," she said.
"Yeah, I guess we all know how that is. I'm Gerry Bertier." Gerry offered her his hand to shake.
"Hannah Ferrell." Hannah looked down at the record Gerry was holding. "That's a real good album. Good choice." Gerry grinned widely.
"Aw, the Beatles are the best! Nothin' beats them."
"I couldn't agree with you more." They looked at each other for a brief second, as though something clicked. Hannah wrapped the jacket around her more tightly, as an awkward atmosphere took place.
"Uh...so what were you doin' at the meeting anyway?" Gerry asked her after noticing the tense silence.
"I make documentaries. Gonna be recordin' the whole football season." Gerry grunted.
"I'm surprised Boone actually let you keep doin' it; he stole everything else from Coach Yoast, anyways," he said bitterly.
"Actually, Coach Boone was the one that offered it to me. I couldn't thank him enough for the opportunity he gave me to do all this." Gerry said nothing in reply, just looked into the distance.
"I sure don't mean to pry or nothin'," Hannah said. "But what problem do y'all have with this integration business?"
Gerry clenched his jaw. "It's crazy. Just crazy," he answered in a monotone voice. "Did you know Coach Yoast was supposed to be head? Boone stole it right from under his nose. All these blacks goin' around acting as though we're still treating 'em like slaves. And look where it gets us: they get our jobs, and we're being looked at as though we're criminals -- it ain't fair!"
"I'm sure Coach Boone didn't intend to take Yoast's position," Hannah insisted. "He's a qualified coach. Runs a tough game. Maybe you should just give him a chance." Hannah spoke politely, so as not to make it seem as though she was angry.
"They don't deserve any chances. They've gotten all that they wanted -- isn't that enough?"
Hannah shrugged her shoulders. "I'm new here Gerry. I don't know all the background. But to me, it doesn't seem like they have all that much. Anyways, I'm sorry I brought it up."
"It's alright," Gerry said. "So, where did you move from, anyways?"
"Richmond. It's a big adjustment, comin' from a big city to a little one," she pondered aloud.
"That's strange. What made your folks move here?"
"It was mostly my daddy's choice. He's a lawyer, wanted to start a firm of his own. It's darn near impossible to do that in a town like Richmond. So, he thought it would be best if we came down here." Hannah stopped, and looked seriously into Gerry eyes. "It's not a bad thing, what my daddy's doin', is it?"
Gerry furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"It takes some real ambition to do what he's doing. He loves to be successful. That's okay, ain't it?" She bit her lip, waiting for his response.
"Well, sure it is," Gerry said. "That's how you get somewhere in life. With drive... is that what's botherin' ya'?"
"It's just that, my Mamma said that he's not treatin' us the way he should be. She says he should be spending more time with us. He's always encouraged me to achieve my goals, and my Mamma says that it's for his own satisfaction, not mine. I really never thought of it that way, until now. I just don't know what to believe." Hannah sighed and went to sit down on the bench close ahead of them. Gerry sat down next to her.
"She's gonna divorce him, Gerry," she continued. "She ain't in love with him no more."
"That's pretty messed up," Gerry said. He watched her, as she gazed up into the moonlit sky and tried to hold back tears. She licked her lips, then looked back at Gerry. "It's so pretty out here," she observed.
"Yeah, it is," he said. "It's therapeutic, you know, to just stare at the stars, and forget about everything else. I do it all the time."
"I do it, too," Hannah said with a amused look on her face. "Would you mind...I mean, you could stay out here with me, if you like."
"Sure, I'd be glad to." And so they sat, talking and stargazing, as they both set aside their pain and anger. A half an hour later, Gerry was walking Hannah back to her home.
"It sure was nice meeting you, Gerry," Hannah said while they walked up the driveway. "Thanks for talking, and listening, with me."
"It's no problem at all -- I had fun."
"Well, g'night." Hannah started up the walkway when Gerry called out to her.
"Hey, Hannah? Do you think it'd be alright if I gave you a call sometime?" Gerry looked timidly to the ground, and Hannah beamed.
"I would like that very much," she said. "Hang on a minute." Hannah jogged into her house and returned several seconds later with a pen. She looked around for a place to write her number, and shyly looked at his arm. "Um...do you mind?" She asked with an awkward giggle. Gerry snickered back.
"No, go ahead." Hannah gently held Gerry's palm as she wrote her phone number on the inside of his hand. "There ya' go," she said. "I'll talk to you later?"
"Yeah," Gerry said confidently. "You will."
