Fiction:

They Have Quarterbacks in Heaven

by Jon Stout

What kind of quarterback would let a scrawny kid beat him at checkers and steal his heart, too?

“Come on,” Tracy insisted as she pulled on Kent’s arm. “It’s not that big of a deal. All we have to do is go in and read them a few stories; you’ll love it.”

Kent looked up at the tall white building towering above him. “Yeah, about as much as I’d love a broken arm. I hate hospitals.”

Tracy smiled and shook her head. “That’s why I like you Kent, because you’re so brave.”

“Real funny, Trace. Why don’t we catch a movie and get a hamburger like most people do on a date?”

“You’re the one who wanted to do something different,” she said, pinching his cheek.

“I said different, not crazy!”

“Okay,” Tracy grinned. “We’ll go in for one hour; then we can see the late movie.”

Before Kent could answer he had been dragged through the glass doors and onto the elevator. Soon they were on the second floor. The whole room was yellow: yellow walls, yellow carpet, little yellow tables and chairs. What had he gotten himself into? When he called Tracy last week he had said he wanted to do something different, but he never imagined he would be at a hospital reading to children, especially on Friday evening.

They walked over to the nurse’s station and rang the bell. A nurse appeared in the doorway and stepped up to the desk.

“Can I help you?”

Tracy spoke up. “Yes, we’re volunteers.”

“Oh good, the children like visitors so much.” She handed them each a stack of books.

Kent looked shocked. “Do we have to read them all?”

“Oh no, it’s completely up to you, but I’m sure that after you meet our patients you won’t mind. I’ll be right back,” the nurse said as she disappeared down the hall.

Kent looked at his watch. “Only 47 minutes and 35 seconds to go.”

Just then the nurse reappeared pushing a wheelchair whose occupant was a small, blonde-haired girl. She had a huge bright smile and sky blue eyes that sparkled like diamonds.

“Hi, I’m Mickey,” she said with so much enthusiasm it nearly knocked them to the floor.

“Hello, I’m Tracy and this is Kent.”

Kent smiled and shook her small hand.

Mickey winked at Tracy. “He’s cute.”

“Yes,” Tracy replied. “But we don’t want to talk about it or he’ll get a big head.” Kent could feel his face getting hot and turned away.

“He’s not as cute as me,” said a gruff voice from behind the nurse. She stepped aside to reveal a small boy with chubby, freckled cheeks and brown hair.

“No,” the nurse replied. “No one is as cute as our little Cliff.” He smiled and ducked his head.

“Come on over here, Cliff,” Tracy said. “I’m going to read to you.”

Cliff hobbled over on his metal crutches. “Way to go, nurse; it’s about time we got some good volunteers.”

Mickey spoke up. “Can’t Jacson come hear today?” she asked the nurse.

“No, Mickey. Jacson doesn’t feel very well today.” Mickey smiled and looked at Kent.

“I’ll betcha he’d go to Jacson’s room and read to him.”

The nurse looked at Kent. “If you don’t mind, he would enjoy it.”

Tracy squeezed his hand. “You can handle it, big guy.”

Kent smiled stiffly and stood up. “Okay, where is he?” Kent glanced at Tracy and pointed to his watch. She ignored him, opened a book, and began reading.

The nurse led Kent down the hall to a bright yellow door.

“Why is everything so yellow?” Kent asked her.

“Because yellow is a cheerful color and it makes people feel happy. Don’t you feel happy just being here?” Kent smiled his stiff smile again and stepped into the dark room. The smell of sanitizers and deodorizers reached his nose. He looked across the room at the small bed, and the even smaller boy lying in it.

“Hi, Jacson, I’m Kent. I’m here to read to you.”

“Just go tell them you did and get your money.”

“My money?”

“Yeah, the money they give you guys for reading to us sick kids.”

“We don’t get paid. I’m a volunteer. That means I’m here because I want to be.” Kent suddenly felt guilty.

“Well I don’t care. I still don’t want no story.”

“Okay.” Kent walked toward the door.

“Hey, Kent, do you play football?”

“Sure do. I’m the quarterback on my high school team.”

“Oh, that’s nothin’. When I get better I’m gonna be the best quarterback in the whole world.

“Is that so?” Kent said as he slowly made his way back to the bed.

“Yep, and you know what else?”

“What?”

“I can beat you in checkers.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll have to see about that.” Kent walked over to the small desk. He picked up the box of checkers and soon they were involved in a full-fledged checker battle.

After being beaten badly, Kent decided it was going to be a difficult task to win. “Okay, Jacson, one more game.”

The game was over more quickly than the one before it.

“I think you better give up, Kent.”

“Just one more game.” Kent suddenly realized he was enjoying himself.

After about seven more games there was a knock at the door and Tracy’s head poked in. “Come in, Tracy,” Kent called.

Jacson looked at Kent. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?”

“I felt sorry for him,” Tracy grinned.

“Tracy, this is Jacson Williams. Jacson, this is Tracy Lewis.”

“Hi, Jacs.”

“Hi. Is Kent really a quarterback?”

“Yes, and a very good one.”

Kent smiled. “Jacson here is going to be a pro.”

Tracy took Jacson’s hand. “I’m sure you’ll be a great quarterback.”

“Well, Jacson,” Kent said. “We have to go now, but we’ll be back next week, and I want you out of this bed and in a wheelchair, okay?”

“Okay,” Jacson said as he slugged Kent’s arm. “Next week I might let you win a couple of games too.”

“Well I’m going right home to practice.” They stepped out into the bright hall, and Kent looked down at his watch. He had been in Jacson’s room for an hour and a half.

“Sorry, Tracy, but I think we missed the movie.”

Tracy smiled and took his hand. “I don’t think anyone in this whole hospital minds one bit.”

The next week passed quickly for Kent as he found himself looking forward to his Friday night hospital visit. On his way to the hospital he picked up a sports magazine for Jacson. He couldn’t believe he had become so attached to a little kid, and in such a short time.

“I don’t even mind the yellow,” he thought as the elevator doors opened. He stepped over to the desk and rang the bell. The nurse from the week before was there again.

“Hello, it’s Kent, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, how’s Jacson?” The nurse led him over to the tables.

“I’m afraid he’s not doing very well at all. Jacson has leukemia.” The words hit Kent like a ton of bricks.

“Well sure,” he said. “But he’s a strong kid. He can tackle it.”

“I’m afraid not. Jacson is dying.”

Kent couldn’t believe it, a scrawny, freckle-faced kid had him feeling as though his heart had been ripped through his chest.

The nurse smiled. “After your visit last week he really improved. He even got out of his bed and into a wheelchair. He wanted you to know that.”

Kent tried to hold back his tears. What was he doing becoming attached to a little kid he barely knew? A feeling of joy passed through his body. It felt good to care about someone besides himself for a change.

“Can I see him?”

“Of course,” she replied. “He’s been counting the days since last Friday.”

Kent followed the nurse down the endless hallway. A million thoughts passed through his mind. What was he going to say to him?

“Only a few minutes,” the nurse cautioned. Kent stepped into the dark room. He walked over and opened the drapes. A shower of moonlight fell through. He looked down at Jacson’s frail body in the oxygen tent.

“Jacson?” he whispered.

Jacson’s eyes fluttered open and a huge smile covered his face. “Kent,” he tried to sit up but couldn’t. “I got in a wheelchair, Kent. I rode all around …”

“Don’t talk, Jacson. You need to rest.”

“I’m tired of resting. I want to play football.”

“Well, you can’t for a while. I brought you a magazine. You better get better so they can interview you.”

“Kent, I’m gonna die.” Kent turned away so Jacson couldn’t see his tears. “But it’s okay ’cause Mom says they have quarterbacks in heaven.”

Thunder shook the small window and the nurse poked her head through the door. “Kent, you’ll have to go now.”

“Okay, just a minute. Well, Jacson, I gotta go but I’ll be back real soon.”

He squeezed the small hand that reached out for his. “Thanks, Kent.”

“Anytime, Jacson.” He stood by the bed a moment, then slipped silently out the door.

“Nurse, I want to know when … when …”

“I understand, I’ll call you.”

Kent quietly left the hospital and drove home. Then next Wednesday Kent got the phone call he had been expecting all week. Jacson had passed away. Even though Kent thought he had prepared himself, the news sent chills down his spine. “He left something here for you if you’d like to come pick it up,” the nurse told him.

“Yes, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He silently hung up the phone and made his way to the car. The ride was the longest he could remember. The nurse gave him a small box. Inside was the checkerboard and the little red and black checkers stacked in two neat piles. A small piece of paper was taped to the board. He carefully unfolded it, and read:

“Dear Kent, My Mom’s writing this letter because I can’t hold a pencil too good. I just want to thank you for being my friend and helping me to get better a little. I’m giving you the checkers so you can practice. I really wish I could see you play football. Maybe we’ll be on the same team in heaven. We’d win every game too. Well, I’m kinda tired so I’m going to sleep now.” Tears filled Kent’s eyes as he read the signature scribbled in Jacson’s own handwriting. “I love you, Jacson.”

Kent was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He wanted to scream. He wanted to be alone.

“Hey, mister, do you play football?”

Kent turned to see a young face staring into his. “Yeah, do you?”

“I used to a lot, but now I have to settle for checkers.”

“Well,” Kent replied. “I just happen to have some with me.” He laid out the board, and they were soon playing. “What’s your name?”

“Bill.”

“Well, Bill, how do you feel about quarterbacks?”

Illustrated by Paul Mann