Letting Go

End of Summer

Touchdown.

Chip Sanders’s heart soared as he realized he had done it. His chest pounded as he collapsed in the shade near the bleachers.

One of the upperclassmen loomed over him. “Hey, man, you were on fire out there. You were really made to play quarterback.”

Coach Lee approached them. “Good going, Chip. You’ll be a great addition to our team.”

“Thanks, Coach. Can’t wait to get out there,” Chip grinned, running his hand over a football’s leather.

One of the taller guys walked over to Chip. “What year are you?” he asked.

“Freshman.”

The kid whistled. “You looked like a freshman…until you got onto the field. You have skill, man.”

“Thanks.” Chip tightened his grip on the football as he fought a smile. He gulped down water in the shade as he listened to the older kids talk.

Football tryouts had been held last week. Chip had immediately been chosen as quarterback. In middle school, he had always been the shortest, having to crane his neck to see past eighth graders’ shoulders. But Coach Lee had noticed him anyway.

“Remember Kasey High?” one guy asked.

One of the older guys let out a low whistle. “It took me years to even be able to handle them. Last season… was rough. The worst game I’ve ever had.”

Chip sat up. “Huh? What’s wrong with them?”

Everyone turned to him. “They’re violent, tough, and tall. They win every game, usually by injuring most of their opponents,” the oldest player explained.

Chip scanned all the juniors and seniors that made up the team. Don’t mess this up, he told himself. Don’t let the team down just because you’re the youngest. He gulped down some water. “Yikes. Sounds serious.”

“I know. They haven’t lost a game in eleven years. I remember last year…”

“What happened last year?”

A linebacker approached. “Hey, no use scaring the new guy with stories about Kasey High.”

Chip wiped his sweaty hands on his jersey while glancing around at his team filled with athletic juniors and seniors. “It can’t be that bad - we have a good team…”

“Just watch out for Perez. He’s the one who goes after the younger players and knocks them out in the first quarter without even trying. And we’re playing them in two weeks - the first game.”

Chip swallowed hard, his throat growing dry. Two weeks? That’s it? His chest tightened.

The words, ’younger players’ kept getting stuck in his head. “Good to know.” He headed to the bike rack, eager to get home and out of his sweaty jersey and get his mind off Kasey High.

One of the wideouts followed Chip. “Hey, man… I hope you survive the first game…”

Chip’s stomach twisted as he clutched the handlebars. “Yeah…”

As Chip boarded his bike, his mind kept drifting back to Kasey High. It can’t be that bad. Besides, Viewpoint’s solid, he told himself.

For what felt like the hundredth time this past year, Chip wished he were driving. Just two months and then I’ll be fifteen…That means my permit… and more freedom.

Riding through Sandpoint, Idaho - where he‘d lived nearly his whole life - he realized how unfamiliar this part of town was. Why does Viewpoint have to be so far away on a bike? His muscles ached after playing football for so long. It takes half the time to get there in a car.

Chip parked his bike in front of his house and stepped inside to change into his swimsuit. Seconds later, he was diving into their swimming pool. The water felt refreshing after playing football nonstop all afternoon. Shaking droplets of water from his bleached blond hair, he felt the cool splash of the water against his skin and realized how long it had been - too long.

At that moment, the screen door opened and Chip’s seven-year-old brother bounded out. Looking at him, there was no doubt that he was Chip’s brother. Running towards the pool, his blond hair and tan stood out in the sun and his blue eyes sparkled just as much as Chip’s.

“Hey, Brad!” Chip waved from the pool. “How was your first day of football?”

Brad’s blue eyes lit up. “Great! The coach thaid I did a good job!” (Brad had a lisp and couldn’t pronounce the ‘z’ and ‘s’ properly.)

“I bet you did, Brad,” Chip grinned. “Not many kids can say that you played football at four or five like you.”

“I want to be juth ath good ath you, Chip, when I’m older,” Brad decided.

Chip laughed. “Then you’ll have to practice nearly every day.”

“I’ll practith with you!”

“Okay. This year, I’m coming up with a schedule to practice. Not just with my team but alone. I’m gonna wake up at six and go running. Wanna come?”

Brad nodded enthusiastically.

Chip got out of the water, grabbing a towel. “Is it suppertime yet?” he asked, drying off.

“Mommy ith making it right now. I want to go thwimming!”

“You’d better not. We’re probably eating dinner in a few minutes.” Chip stepped onto the patio, overlooking their huge yard.

Chip stepped inside the kitchen where his mom was cooking dinner.

Mom was busy mixing some batter, her blond hair and sparkling blue eyes making her seem younger than her forty-two years.

“Hi, Mom. When’s dinner?” Chip asked.

“Don’t you even think about snitching,” Mom warned. “We’ll have dinner ready in a few minutes. You and Brad can set the table…after you put on a shirt.”

Chip grinned, having forgotten he was wearing no shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

Upstairs was stiflingly hot. Chip resisted the urge to hop into the cold shower and stay there until the house warmed up. He pulled on some clothes and hurried downstairs to set the table. Usually, he didn’t have to set the table - it was Brad’s job. But he was starving and wanted to eat as soon as possible.

“Chip,” Mom called, “Would you mind grabbing Reed’s dishes and getting him a portion of the potatoes and meat?”

“Sure.” Reed, Chip’s almost three-year-old brother, had to use plastic dishes. Reed liked Paw Patrol so all his dishes had that. He always got excited about them.

Dad came into the house at that moment. “I see we have dinner ready early,” he smiled. “What a surprise. And didn’t you have to take Brad to football practice?”

“Can we talk about this after we pray? I’m starved,” Chip admitted.

“Sure. If you pray,” Dad grinned. He had blond hair, too, and a youthful look. He was very athletic like Chip.

“Or everyone prays in their head,” Chip suggested. He didn’t feel like praying out loud even if it was in front of his family.

“I’ll pray!” Brad volunteered, his bright blue eyes wide with anticipation. “Dear God, thank you for thith food. Thank you that I get to play football. Pleath help me to get ath good ath Chip.”

As everyone opened their eyes, Chip chuckled.

Mom and Dad looked at him.

“What did I do?” “Don’t laugh at your brother’s prayer. It’s important to be honest,” Dad said. Then he added, “Where’s Faith?” Faith was Chip’s seventeen-year-old sister who was a senior. She had tons of friends.

“She’s at a back-to-school party,” Mom explained.

Chip had been told that in high school, you hung out with girls and guys both and invited them to your parties. With Chip, he stuck with guys. He wondered if this would change in high school.

“How was football practice today?” Dad asked, turning to Chip.

“Awesome but hot.” That pretty much summed up the entire afternoon.

Mom nodded. “I haven’t experienced this hot of a temperature in awhile.”

“Maybe that’s good. They won’t cancel the football games in the winter,” Chip said.

Dad laughed. “But what about hockey, Chip?”

The thought of hockey made Chip think of his “foster brother” Bernard Ezra who was a hockey prodigy in college.

“I don’t know,” Chip admitted sadly. He was good at hockey but there was nothing better than the rush of football and the adrenaline of throwing a touchdown. That was something else. He decided to change the subject. “Mom, Dad, when am I going to start learning how to drive? I’m almost fifteen.”

“Almost? Your birthday is in two months,” Dad pointed out.

“And? Getting around on a bike isn’t easy, especially getting to Viewpoint High.”

“You and Faith are going together. Maybe next spring we can talk about driving lessons,” Dad suggested.

“That’s fair,” Chip agreed. He hopped out of his seat and headed upstairs.

“Chip, what are you doing?” Mom called. “Are you finished eating?”

“Uh-huh.” Chip yawned. “I’m getting up early tomorrow to go running so I figure going to bed early wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

Brad came running to join Chip. “Me, too! Me, too! I’m going to wake up early!”

Chip laughed. “Okay, then let’s get ready for bed. Do you want to take the first shower?”

Brad nodded. “Yeah.”

Chip could tell that Brad wasn’t too excited about Reed moving into their bedroom and Chip moving out. But Mom and Dad had promised Chip that once he was in high school, he would get his own room. It would be good to not have to deal with Brad’s legos all over the floor and not having to wake up in the middle of the night because Brad was having nightmares.

Chip would be moving into the guestroom next to Faith’s room. He would be getting a much bigger bed. As for Brad and Reed, Mom and Dad were going to get them a bunk bed. But Chip wasn’t allowed to move into his new room until tomorrow night.

One more week of summer. I gotta make it count, Chip thought, yanking his pajamas out of his drawer and tossing them onto the bed. Tomorrow I need to practice football all day and go swimming. That will end this summer. I need to be ready for Kasey High. Freshman or not, he had to prove that his age didn’t matter out on the field.

Eighth grade…what did I even learn last year? Did I even pay attention in class? It all felt like a blur to him now.

Chip showered right after Brad and then went straight to bed. It was only 7:30.

After about twenty minutes, Brad whispered, “Chip?”

“Yeah?” Chip was surprised Brad was still awake.

“It feelth weird going to bed this early.”

“You’ll be glad we did tomorrow morning.”

As Chip fell asleep that night, thoughts of Kasey High swirled in his mind.

In his dream, Chip came face-to-face with the largest football player he’d ever seen. He wiped out every one in sight with his intimidating broad shoulders and massive arms. When he turned his back, Chip saw the word Perez on the back of his jersey and a chill ran down his spine.

In two weeks, it wouldn’t be a dream. It would be real life - Chip facing off Perez in a game.