Harry Potter and the Spellbook of Desires Chapter 32 Ancient History
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When I returned to the office, the two men were waiting for me.
“Cal ... is Harry your legal guardian?”
“I understand that’s how the Judge set things up, yes. Is there a problem, sir?”
Anderson shook his head. “The law says you have to attend school for fifteen hours per week as the minimum. I’m really not sure what we actually CAN teach you, though. Not considering you just tested out of more than half of the college requirements for an associate degree, maybe even a bachelor’s.”
“In which field, Sir?”
Dawson laughed. “All of them.” He shook his head. “Under Kansas law, you have to attend high school until you’re eighteen, or unless there are special circumstances, such as you graduate early. You have to attend a minimum of fifteen hours per week, so that’s three classes. We cut you down to three hours per day here, then three or four hours per day at HCC. Your schedule here will be a bit ... different. Creative Writing, Spanish 4, and some kind of physical education class, because the law is an ass and you have to have a PE class of some kind to graduate. You have lunch here, then attend some classes at HCC. At the end of this school year, you graduate from here and also get associate degrees at HCC. After that, you could either transfer to K State and finish your bachelor’s there, or ... go anywhere in the country, really.”
“I would like to participate in some of the school athletic programs here, if that’s not too much of a problem. But what about the rest of my requirements for graduation?”
“You’ve passed all of them. Cal, technically, I could give you the test right now for a G.E.D., and you could get that. But you’re here for the interactions. As for athletics, um, the football season starts in two weeks. Most of the boys have been working out for a month or more to get into shape.” He sighed. “You know what? I don’t care. Ken, do you want to come with us? I’m curious to see Cal’s new truck, anyway. Go ahead and leave your stuff here, Ken, we’ll come back.”
The three of us walked out front. I unlocked my truck. “Nice truck. Looks brand new,” Dawson said.
“It is. I just bought it yesterday, in Wichita. Well, technically Harry’s name is on the title since I’m sixteen, but you know what I mean. Um, where am I going?” I put my seat belt on.
Principal Anderson gave me directions around the school, to the gymnasium on the north side of the school. “Go ahead and park there. You’ve got that permit I gave you, go ahead and put it in the window.” I did so.
“Come on, follow me.” We followed him into the building. He led us in, where some students were, based upon my reading, playing basketball. There were a series of offices off to one side. He opened the door that said, Coaches Office, and walked on in.
This portion of the building had an odor to it. Stale sweat and the smell of showers. “How’s it going, Coach?”
“All right so far, Principal Anderson. What brings you to this side of the campus?”
“Coach Jim Thompson, this is Doctor Kenneth Dawson, from Hutchinson Community College next door. And this young man is Cal Lewis. He’s transferring in here. I realize that you’ve been working your team for a month already, but I’m curious to see if he could possibly fit in. I have a suspicion ... well, you know what happened to Mister Baker yesterday. This is the young man who prevented him from killing one of our students.”
The coach stared at me. “Have you ever played football before?”
“No, sir. I was homeschooled. I’ve read about the sport, of course.”
“Pete, I don’t know what you expect me to do with someone who doesn’t know how the game is played.”
“How about give him a tryout, to see what kind of shape he’s in?”
With a sigh, he said, “Fine. Come on.” He got out of his chair, led us into a portion of the gymnasium that wasn’t being used.
“Okay, let’s see how high you can jump. Reach up, make a mark on the wall with this chalk. Squat down and then jump up, and mark the wall with the chalk at the top of your jump.”
One of the books I’d read was something called the Guinness Book of World Records. I decided that it would be a very bad thing if I broke any of those records. But I also liked the idea that I would be what Beth called the big man on campus. I took the piece of chalk, reached up, and marked the wall. I jumped up, marking the wall 4 feet above where I’d first marked it, then landed.
The coach blinked. So did Dawson. Anderson just smiled. Thompson pulled out a tape measure. “Okay. Springs in your legs, Mister Lewis? Over here, please. This is our indoor sprint line. That black line is the starting line. We’ll go to the other end. When you hear me yell, ‘GO’, I’ll start the stopwatch. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Polite one, aren’t you? I like that.” I watched them walk to the other end of the lane. Coach yelled out, “Ready ... Go!” I took my time covering the 40 yards. “Son of a bitch! 4.8 seconds! In street clothes! Come here, Cal.”
He led us into a room filled with an assortment of lead weights, bars, and benches. “Have you ever done a bench press? It’s simple. I load the bar with weight, you lay down on your back, pick the bar up, out of the rack, then lower it to your chest, then raise it back up again. Try it with the empty bar, so you can see the moves and we get the rack height adjusted for you.”
I got on my back, my arms extended. He moved things, then said, “Let’s try this. How’s that feel?”
“Fine, sir.” I saw Anderson and Dawson whispering to each other.
“Okay, we’re going to do two different things here. The bar itself weighs fifty-five pounds, and you moved that easily. I’m going to load a hundred seventy pounds on it, so that’ll be two and a quarter. I want you to see if you can do any repetitions with that much weight.” He moved so that he was standing over my head. “I’ll help you if you have any trouble.”
I picked the bar up. I started doing the repetitions with it. At thirty, he said, “Are feeling okay? No strain?”
“No, sir.”
At forty, he said, “Okay, that’s enough.” He brought his hand up, rubbing his chin. “Pete, can you come help me? I want a second spotter for this. Cal, are you sure you feel okay?”
I smiled. “I’m fine, Coach.”
They loaded more plates onto the bar. “Cal, we’re right here. If you have the least trouble, we’ll pull the bar out of the way.” I nodded in acknowledgment.
I decided to at least make it look a little theatrical. I took in a deep breath, then exhaled. My hands on the bar, I pushed up, then moved it over me, lowered it to my chest, and started to do repetitions again. At ten, I stopped with the bar in the air. “Is that enough?”
“Son of a bitch ... yes, Cal, that’s plenty.”
I put the bar back on the rack. “What’s next, Sir?”
“The practice field is outside. I ... I have to get something from the office.” He took off at a run for his office.
“Is something wrong, Mister Anderson?”
“Step on these scales. Damn, Ken. He’s a buck sixty. No, Cal, nothing is wrong. It’s not every day you see someone do ten reps with five hundred pounds. Come on, the Coach will meet us outside.”
We walked to the practice field. A couple of minutes later, the Coach, another man, and a boy about my age came out. The second man was carrying a bag of footballs. He set them down by us. The coach took one out of the bag, tossed it to me. I easily caught it.
“Cal, this is a football, also called a pigskin. Toss that one back to me, and then go out about twenty yards. I want to see something.”
There were marks on the field, so I jogged out there, then turned around. The man that had come out tossed the ball to me, just over my head. I jumped up a foot and caught it. He made a waving motion, for me to toss it back to him. I had watched him throw it, so I gently tossed it back. He had to bring his hands up quickly to keep from being hit in the middle of the chest.
“Go out ten more yards, Cal.” I did, but when I turned, I saw that the boy had thrown a ball already, and it was about two yards to my right. I ran over and caught it. I tossed it back to the man I didn’t know, but was guessing was another coach.
“Ten more yards, please, but keep your eye peeled for another ball.” I turned and started walking. The boy gave a heave, and I started slowly running. I caught it in stride, then stopped. The other coach waved me back in. I tossed him the ball from where I was, which shocked him. “No, come on back in, Cal.” I ran back to them.
“Cal, this is Coach Myers, he’s my assistant. And this is Jerry Wallace, he’s our JV quarterback. How’s your hand, Greg?”
“Still stinging. I wasn’t expecting that much mustard on a pass from forty yards out.”
“Jerry, how much arm do you have?” Coach Thompson asked.
“I might get forty-five yards, if I’m loose. That’s about it, coach.”
“Okay, I want to see something. Jerry, you’re going to take off downfield. Cal, I want you to throw the ball so that when Jerry is full speed, that he can catch the ball forty yards out, like he’s trying to outrun someone chasing him. Think you can do that?” I nodded. “Jerry, go!”
Jerry took off running in a straight line. I gauged how fast he was going, then tossed the ball towards where he would be. He turned his head at thirty-five yards, held his hands out, and it landed right in them. He pulled up to a stop, then turned, backing up a bit further. I tossed him another one. He did the same thing again, and I threw another football to him. With three of them, Jerry held one out, dropped it and kicked it into the air. I saw where it was going to land and ran over to catch it.
“Kid has a natural eye. He knew where the ball was going as soon as it was kicked. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Greg, I’m thinking we’re going to piss a couple of people off. Pete, what do you want?”
“Cal is going to be splitting his time between here and the College. He’s only going to be in three classes here, he’s already tested out of, well, literally everything we could teach him. So, he’ll be in school here in the mornings, next door in the afternoons.”
“You know our first game is less than three weeks away.”
“I know, Greg. Cal, we have practices after school, every day from 3:30 till 5:30. Can you make those?”
“On Fridays, unless I’m involved in school athletics, I’m supposed to be at the Moose Lodge at six pm.”
Coach looked at me, suspicion on his face. “Why are you supposed to be there?”
“Well, Judge Bannister...” I didn’t say anything else.
“You know Elroy Bannister?” I nodded. “You’re excused from dressing for the next two Friday’s practice. Come out and do the calisthenics with us, then you can leave. After that, we’ll be playing regular football games for the next nine weeks. He understands that. Jerry, can you take Cal in and get him fitted with a uniform?”
“Do you mind if he comes back, say, at 2:30, and has that done? I’d like to show him a little of the campus and where he’ll park his truck and such.”
“Sorry about that, Mister Dawson. Yes, that’d be fine. Sorry. Greg, Jerry, we have some planning to do.”
The three of them hurried off. “Ken, I’m sorry about that, I didn’t think we’d have a new starting quarterback this late in practice.”
“That’s okay. I’m jealous, is all. Cal, you’re better than OUR quarterback in throwing and catching the ball.”
We stopped at my truck. “You two go on ahead. I’ll walk into the gym and talk to them a bit more. My office isn’t locked, you can get your briefcase out of there, Ken.”
About 10 minutes later, we were sitting in a lounge at the college, both of us drinking a coke. “Cal, what we do here ... we are basically a preparatory school, so you can get part of the requirements for a full four-year degree out of the way. At the same time, we also train technicians in many fields. You’ve actually tested out of all the math classes we offer. I could, literally, grant you an Associate of Science in Mathematics right now.”
“Because of the overlap, I’d like to see you take the physics, chemistry, and biology classes necessary, over the course of the school year. That way, next summer, we can grant you at least four different degrees, and you can pretty much write your ticket to anywhere you want to go. How does that sound?”
“Sir, I need to learn social interactions. I realize that. I also need to learn how science works ... out here, is the polite way to phrase it. Have your classes already started, and how much of an interruption or trouble will it be for me to join them?”
“We run a slightly different schedule than the public school. Our actual classes don’t start until Monday. If it’s not an issue, I’d like to take you to the registrar’s office and get you signed up for everything. No more than two or three classes per day, so we don’t interfere with your high school education and athletics.”
I shrugged. “Sounds reasonable to me. I’ve an hour and a half before I have to be back at the high school.”
I followed him through campus, to the administration building. He led me into an office where half a dozen women were busily working at computer terminals. One of them looked up. “Hello, Dean. How can we help you today?”
“Ladies, this is Cal, short for California, Lewis. He will be starting here on Monday. I need him enrolled this semester in all the Chemistry, Physics, and Biology 1 classes.”
“Sir, that’s like, fourteen different classes.”
“Sorry, I misspoke. For physics, he’ll need Engineering Physics 1 and Chemistry 1. For Chemistry, he’ll need Chemistry 1, Organic Chemistry 1, and Engineering Physics 1. For Biology, he’ll need Biology 1, Chemistry 1. That’s only four classes. Next semester he’ll take the second semester of each of those. We’ll need to fit General Physiology and Principles of Organic and Biochemistry in as his fifth class, one this semester, one next semester. We have him from noon until 3:15 each day.”
“Um, what about the rest of the classes he’ll need?”
“He’s already tested out of those, including all mathematics requirements. We could literally award him that degree right now.” He turned to me. “Cal, can you come back and see these ladies tomorrow after lunch, and they’ll have it figured out for you by then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Um, Dean? Can we get a copy of his license and social security card, to officially enroll him here?” I took those out and handed them to her. “Sixteen? Oh, my. Are you still in school next door, is that why we have that time block?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll start classes there tomorrow. I just transferred in. And I have football practice starting at 3:30 each day.”
“Sounds reasonable. Ladies, I think we can make this happen, don’t you? For actual classes, you’re looking at thirty credit hours. That’s eighteen hundred dollars per semester.”
Before the Dean could say anything, I pulled out my wallet. “Okay, here you go.” I counted out eighteen one-hundred dollar bills.
“Well, that just took care of any further objections my department might have, Dean. Cal, if you’d come see us tomorrow, we’ll have your paperwork complete, your class schedule, and a map of campus for you, so you know where to park.”
“Give him a faculty, unlimited, permit, at no charge,” Dawson said.
“Yes, Sir. Four degrees, in one year? I’ve a feeling this young man is going to go far in this world.” She had copied both sides of the ID, and was handing my license back to me when she saw the writing on the back. “Oh! Um, that eighteen hundred will cover you for the whole year, Mister Lewis.”
The rest of the ladies in the office looked at her. “If you see the Judge, tell him Louise said, “Hi.”
“I’ll see him Friday night, ma’am. Thank you, and I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
Once we were out of the registrar’s office, Dawson started laughing. “Thank you, Cal. I couldn’t have asked for a better resolution to this, in your favor. I guarantee you that all of your classes will be ready for you. They’ll probably have all your books waiting for you as well.” He looked at his watch. “Walk with me for about ten minutes, I want to show you the campus, then you’ll need to head back to high school.”
It was nice there. It seemed to be a decent school, all things considered.
I drove back to high school. I had time to go into the office and meet Principal Anderson again. He gave me my class assignments. I had Creative Writing first thing in the morning, followed by Spanish, followed by Public Speaking, and then lunch. I thanked him, went back to the truck, left Beth a note on her steering wheel that I’d be over at the gym when she got out, for football practice. Then I hurried over there.
I parked and walked into the gym, turning where I’d gone before. “Welcome back, Cal. Jerry had to go back to class, but Coach Myers will get you suited up. Just for your future knowledge, please refer to both of us as Coach. ‘Sir’ is great, but ‘Coach’ is part of the team thing.”
“Yes, Coach!”
“Good man!”
Coach Myers led me into a locker room, then unlocked a door off of it. “Okay, this is the equipment room in here. Here’s a lock for you. Your clothes can go into that locker there. I’m going to issue you everything from the skin out, so strip all the way.”
When I was stripped and turned back around, he said, “Damn. Make sure you don’t point that weapon around in the shower, or there’ll be trouble from some of the guys. Okay, how big is your waist?”
I told him. He pulled out something that looked sort of like shorts, but with no butt. “Jock strap. You’ll want to get at least two or three more of these for the year, just so you can have two to get washed while you wear the third. Protective cup,” he said, holding it up. “There’s a spot in the jock that it slides into, so you don’t ruin the family jewels. Leggings. Again, you’ll need to get more. Thigh and knee pads. Let me see how those fit. Good. Uniform pants. We’ll issue you those, four sets. Keep them as clean as you can. We know by the end of the season they’re going to be getting grimy.”
“Pads. Chest, ribs, and shoulder. This is a contact sport, so we try to keep the bruises down as much as possible. Uniform jersey, shirt. Again, we’ll issue you those, four sets. Same rules as the leggings. Let’s get the pads on, so I can see what’ll fit you. Okay, that puts you right here, so ... for jersey number ... is eight okay? We don’t have anyone else using that number this year on either the JV or the Varsity, and I think they’ll fit. Yep, good fit. Let me see your feet. You get issued two sets of cleats. These are the practice ones, you’ll put these on now. These are game cleats. If you can afford it, I suggest getting a set of your own, for the games.”
“Last, and the most important, the helmet. Again, this is a very physical contact sport. But you’re going to need visibility in your position, so ... here we go, here’s a helmet that fits you, and I’ll switch the faceguard out with one for receiver and QB. You’ll want to pick up a mouthguard or two at the sporting goods store, too, we don’t issue those. Here’s the play book, you’ve got fifteen minutes to look it over before everyone else starts coming in. Any questions?”
“Where can I get the extra items, Coach?”
“Good question. Dunham’s and Hibbets Sports are both over in Hutchinson Mall. I forgot, you’re not from around here. That’s Severance Street, out by the field. Take that south to 11th Avenue, cross 61, and then take the third mall entrance on your left. It’ll lead you right to Dunham’s. Hibbets is inside. Either one will take care of you. And I can hear the thundering horde. Damn, here, you’ll need this after practice. A towel and soap. Bring your own towels after this, I forgot about that. Put your extra stuff in your locker, lock it up, and keep the key somewhere safe.” While his back was turned, I scanned the play book.
I walked out in my full uniform. It felt ... odd. Confining, yet also a little protective. I knew I really didn’t need any of this gear, but to fit in, I’d have to wear it. I watched as about fifty boys came running into the locker room. Jerry saw me. “You’re already dressed and ready to go, Cal. Get out there, so Coach Thompson can see what you look like.”
I shrugged and headed out to the practice field. Coach Thompson saw me. “Cal, you get off this time because you don’t know any better. When you come out of that locker room, you RUN out here. You understand?” I started running, yelling, “Yes, Coach!”
“Good man. All right, did you get set up with the college?”
“I believe so, Coach. They know I have to be done so I can be here by 3:30 every day.”
“That’s right. You have ten minutes to get dressed and out here. We’ll do calisthenics for half an hour, then work on drills, then whatever I feel like.” While he was explaining things to me, almost a dozen other boys were moving large devices out of a shed. He saw my confusion.
“Tackling dummies. We dress fifty-two players, fifty-three with you, and we’ve got ten assistants. They’ll bring you Gatorade during the game, make sure you have towels and such for sweat then.”
He watched as the first players started running out of the locker room, to where we were standing. “Cal, I want you right here, just to my left, for now.”
Within minutes, the rest of the players were out, standing in loose formation in front of us. Coach Thompson said, “Good afternoon, ladies!”
Everyone yelled back, “Good afternoon, Coach!”
“All right, Salthawks, listen up. We’ve got a surprise in our mix. This is Cal Lewis. He just transferred into Hutchinson High School. How he does in the next few practices will determine where he starts. He’s wearing a low number for a reason. He has a better arm, and better wheels, than every ... single ... one ... of you. He may be smaller than all you backs, but he’s also stronger than every ... single ... one ... of you. He did forty reps at two twenty-five, and ten reps at five hundred. Jerry Wallace saw him catch, saw him throw. Jerry, what did you think?”
“Coach! Cal can kick all our asses. Coach!”
“That’s right, ladies. He’s also the one that put Baker down yesterday when he tried to kill Elizabeth Watson. Now, ladies, helmets off, and let’s start with some good old-fashioned push-ups.” The team roared, putting their helmets down and getting into a position on the ground, holding their bodies up. I was a little slow, because I had to see what the position was.
Fifty repetitions later, we got to stand up. Several of them were sweating now. “Okay, now let’s see some jumping jacks.” He quietly said to me, “Watch the first one, then you’ll see what to do. I figure you’ve never done this before, either. Now, ladies, begin!” I saw what the exercise was, and quickly caught up.
We next did bend and reaches. That meant our arms were outspread, then we’d touch our left toes with our right fingertips, stand back up, and do the other side. “Very good, ladies! Looks like some of you are still a little out of shape, even this close to the start of our season. Yes, I’m looking at you, Oliver. All right, defenses with Coach Myers, offenses with me. Cal, you’re with me.”
About half of the boys grabbed their helmets and ran over to where Coach Myers was, near the tackling dummies. The rest of us gathered around Coach Thompson. “All right, Salthawks. You all know how to play both ways, anyway. I want the JV offensive backs out on defense. I want the regular starting Varsity offense. First and ten, on the twenty!”
There were quickly twenty-two boys on the field, eleven on each side. “Cal, I want you to pay attention to the quarterback, on how he calls plays. Pete told me something about you. Did you have a chance to read our playbook?”
“Coach! Yes, Coach!”
“Good man. All right out there! Play 22-Right!” The offensive group gathered in a huddle. I saw the quarterback tell everyone what the play was, which was an inside hand-off to the right fullback, running to the right side. The quarterback lined up behind the center. He started yelling out, “Blue, 14! Blue, 14! Hut!” The center snapped the ball, the quarterback took it, pivoted, and handed the ball to the back. He met the defensive line and made about a three-yard gain. Coach blew the whistle, and they put the ball back down for the center.
Instead of yelling the play in, I saw him hold up his hands, showing three fingers, then flipping his hand to show all five. He did that again. “Cal, that’s how I normally signal in plays. That way the other team doesn’t know what we’re calling.”
I knew thirty-five was a short toss to a wide receiver. The quarterback took the snap, faded back and threw the ball. The wide receiver was ready, but a defending player was as well, and knocked the ball down. The linesmen were playing pretty full out, and I saw why all the pads and helmets were necessary, with boys on the ground all over the place.
Coach signaled in another play, another pass. It was a completed pass, but only for six yards, so we were a yard short. “Since this is practice, we’ll do a QB sneak. Normally we’d punt at this point, since we’re down in our end.”
The QB sneak almost made it, but he was stopped just short.
“Cal, if you decide to override my play from the side, the code word is kill. That’ll tell our guys that you’re changing the play. Try not to do it too much.”
“Coach! Yes, Coach!”
“All right. Davis, you’re injured. Lewis, in for Davis!”
I ran out to the huddle. A couple of the players looked at me with disdain and anger. I looked at the coach. He called a fake hand-off left, quarterback keep, run on the right. “Hello, gentlemen. I’m Cal Lewis. We’re doing a 24-right, on three. Break!” I was totally making that up, just from watching what Davis had done before me.
“Red, 11! Red, 11! Hut! Hut! HUT!” The center snapped the ball back, hard. It didn’t faze me. I moved like I should, putting my right hand out like I was handing off the ball to a back. He took off to the left side, while I kept the ball down by my leg and started to the right side. I put a little of my sprinting speed into it, nothing major, and was around the right end and heading downfield. I heard the whistle blow and turned to run back up the field. One of the defenders was right behind me and ran into me.
“Coach blew the whistle. The play is dead.” I reached down and helped pick him up off the ground. He just shook his head.
“Wilbur, what in the HELL do you think you’re doing? You just got an extra 5 laps, Son! When the whistle blows, the play is DEAD! You stop, THEN! All right, everyone back here. Mason, in for Wilbur, he looks a little dazed. Back in your huddles!” The next play was a pass play.
“Next play is a 42-left. Wide receivers, go at least 5 yards deeper than you normally would before you break. I’ll pick whoever is open. It’ll be on your far shoulder, so no interception. On three, break!”
I was 5 yards back of the center, in the shotgun. There were two backs, to block for me. I was watching over the other team. The way they were loading the line. “Red, 11! Kill, Kill! Red 35, Red 35, Hut-Hut-Hut!” The defense charged through the line with the blitz, which left our wide receiver wide open for the short pass I’d just called. He caught it on his outside shoulder and was off. Coach blew his whistle, ending the play.
“Salthawks, gather up! Everyone on the offense come together. Mister Lewis, what play did I call in?”
“Coach! 42-Left, deep pass to either open wide receiver, Coach!”
“And what play did you run?”
“Coach, 35-Right, short toss to the wide receiver, just beyond the line, Coach!”
“For those ladies out here that don’t understand what just happened, please explain WHY you just overruled the decision made by me?”
“Coach! The defense was loading the line, showing blitz. Even with two blockers, one of their tackles was very likely to get through. But that also left our right-side wide receiver completely uncovered, Coach!”
“Mister Lewis, how much football have you played before today?”
“Coach! None, Coach!”
“Have you ever taken a snap from a center before?”
“Coach! No, Coach!”
“Two plays, ladies. Both of which in a game would have been scoring plays for our side. Mister Lewis, how long did it take you to memorize our game book?”
“Coach! One minute, Coach!”
There were some chuckles and coughs from some of the players. “Salthawks, to say that I am shocked that you would doubt the word of another student shocks me! Especially one that you know nothing about. Mister Lewis, what do you have as your schedule for school tomorrow?”
“Coach! First hour, Creative Writing. Second hour, Spanish. Third hour, Public Speaking. Lunch. Then for the rest of this week, free until practice starts. Effective next week, Chemistry 1, Physics 1, Engineering Physics 1, Organic Chemistry 1, and General Physiology, from after lunch until practice starts, Coach!”
“Mister Lewis, those last ones don’t sound like classes here.”
“Coach! No, they’re at the Community College. Dean Dawson said that with taking those, then the second class in each group next semester, I’ll fulfill their requirements, Coach!”
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