sort of influx of cash such a project would have required.
He let out a low whistle, which drew Thor’s attention from the smells beyond the car window.
“It’s a lot bigger than it used to be,” he explained to the dog, wondering as he did so if there was much difference between that and his boss talking to a scarecrow.
At least the football field was in the same spot. CJ could hear the crowd noises coming from behind the school, and he found a place to park in the packed lot in the front. He affixed the leash to Thor’s collar and set off.
When he rounded the school, which took quite a while considering its sprawl, he saw that while the field was in the same general spot, it too had been upgraded. Most noticeably there were twice as many bleachers and not a one of them appeared to be rusted.
He paid his money at the gate and then stood to the left of a long set of bleachers, watching the action on the field. It was the fourth quarter, and the scoreboard had Adelia up 24 to 17. CJ watched from his spot as the visiting quarterback approached the line. He barked the snap count, took the ball and handed off to the running back, who looked for a seam on the right side of the line. But the Adelia linebackers sniffed it out and took him down for a loss. It seemed that just about everyone in the stadium rose as one to cheer the play—everyone except the section next to where CJ stood. A closer inspection revealed that he’d allied himself through proximity with the visiting fans.
“We’ve crossed enemy lines, boy,” he said to Thor, who was busy sniffing the dirt beneath the nearest bleachers. CJ gave the leash a tug and went off in search of the concession stand that, he was happy to see, sat in the same spot it had always occupied. He ordered two hamburgers and then set about finding a spot among the first row of seats, which required him to make a circuit around the field. Once he was seated, he unwrapped one of the burgers, pulled the meat from between the bun, and dropped it on the ground for Thor.
About ten minutes passed as CJ watched the game, although he found that he wasn’t paying much attention to it, except to cheer and to sit and stand along with everyone else. He was simply enjoying the atmosphere, allowing the brisk air, the game sounds, the smells of various concessions, and the feeling of being in a crowd to relax him, to strip away the portions of the day that had not gone so well.
In fact, he was so disassociated from his surroundings that he had no idea how long his dog had been missing. Thor’s leash disappeared beneath the bleachers, and CJ looked down through the gap between the seats to see the Lab finishing some dirt-laden delicacy only a dog could love. He tried a pull on the leash, but physics decreed that Thor had worked himself into a spot that made him impervious to repeat tugs delivered around a curve. So CJ gave up and let the dog be.
Fate, however, seemed intent on disallowing him the same courtesy. He spotted Ben first, yet Julie was only a few steps behind. They must have just gotten back from Albany. CJ remembered now that their son was on the team. Their seat search took them to within twenty yards of CJ before they found a spot. CJ let his eyes linger for a time, until he felt that he was crossing some line that would turn him into, as Elliott had said, a stalker.
After releasing a sigh, he stood and moved to a spot where Thor’s leash straightened sufficiently to increase the effectiveness of CJ’s tug on it. The dog came out from beneath the bleachers with a happy wag. Without a look back at his cousin and his wife, CJ worked his way around the field and toward the parking lot.
When fifteen minutes later he’d parked in the street in front of Sister Jean Marie’s convent, he found he couldn’t put a finger on his mood. As he got out of the car and reached for Thor’s leash, he wondered if the sister would appreciate this extra visitor.
As a former altar boy, CJ was familiar with the rectory, which in the case of St. Anthony’s was attached to the church,