A Star Tribune serialized novel by Richard Horberg

Chapter 7

The story so far: Allen hears from home.

One evening Allen made up a list of novels to recommend to Annette Bowman, Leland's mother.

He included Ernest Hemingway's "A Farewell to Arms" and F. Scott Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby." There was "Ethan Frome" by Edith Wharton and "Of Human Bondage" by Somerset Maugham. On and on the list went. Franz Kafka's "The Trial" and Willa Cather's "My Antonia" were followed with "Babbitt" by Sinclair Lewis and "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley. There were 19 books on Allen's list when he paused to consider whether he had left out anything essential.

He thought about including "The Magic Mountain," "War and Peace" and "Moby Dick," but did not on the grounds that they might be too difficult for her. Perhaps some of the others, he realized, might prove formidable as well. Maybe before giving her the list he should have called and asked what kind of books she was interested in, what kind of education she'd had. The next Saturday afternoon, he found her number in his billfold and dialed her from the drugstore.

A boy answered. He didn't know whether it was Leland or the younger son. "May I speak to your mother?" he asked.

"Who's this?"

He identified himself, after which the phone banged down a little too loudly, he thought.

When Annette Bowman picked up the phone, she sounded very pleased to hear from him. In answer to his question, she said she was interested in reading good novels, the kind he would read himself. She said she'd attended the state college at Bemidji for two years. She'd hoped to major in art, but then got married.

He asked if she would like him to make the list chronological. She said it wasn't necessary, adding with a little laugh that she took everything as it came. He laughed too, advising her further (as he'd been told by one of his professors) that if after reading 100 pages of any book and finding that she didn't like it, to quit and try something else. She said that she was very good at perseverance. He found himself pleased at her responses.

"I'm afraid you're going to have trouble locating these books," he said. "You'll probably have to go to Bemidji to get them. Or," he added, "I have most of them on my shelves. You're certainly welcome to borrow them."

"That's very kind of you."

He told her he'd send the list home with Leland on Monday. She hesitated, then asked if he'd mind leaving it off at Lila's, the women's fashion shop where she worked, instead. "If I'm not there," she added, "just leave it with Lila."

He said he would.

He hoped that she'd be there.

***

The Stone Lake High School marching band came down the street in full force, Jack Palmer at its head. Preceding it, several smiling officials in suits and ties passed. Colorful floats rolled by, their decorations quivering on the gravel street, each with a queen or a dignitary at the top, waving to the crowd. Merchants carried banners. Dust rose from the wide street. It was Friday morning, the day of the Homecoming game.

Allen, Dave Meyers and Orville Christopherson stood in front of The Food Box, watching. At the head of the band, Jack Palmer saluted them with his baton, a huge smile on his face. Dressed in a green and white uniform, with gold epaulets on his shoulders and a gold banner over his chest, his officer's cap at a rakish angle, he was in his element. Behind him, four drum majorettes in little white skirts twirled batons, knees raised high, smiles fixed. Then came the band, four columns wide, playing a Sousa march, tubas and trombones, bugles, flutes, drums and cymbals, even a young man bearing what Orville told him was a glockenspiel, with green and white tassels on the posts. Townspeople lined the street, lounging against shopfronts and smoking cigarettes, some with coffee cups in hand. Others kept pace with the band, watching, no doubt, their sons or daughters. At the end of the parade, several children scampered to keep up, waving their arms and indulging in horseplay.

"Quite a display," Dave said.

Orville nodded.

Allen was pleased by the parade. He liked music. It often moved and inspired him. But he had to admit that, as an English teacher, he liked words more. Looking down the street at the white frame buildings — the hardware store, the grocery, the bakery, some of them with apartments above — he asked Orville if other towns in the area had similar homecoming parades.

"It's the big thing. They're all trying to exceed the others."

The next day he asked his students why they thought there were so many ceremonies connected with homecoming — the parade, the dance, the crowning of the queen, the bonfire the night before, the snake dance through the streets. They didn't know. "It's homecoming," one student said.

"What else?"

They didn't know.

"Why is it always in the fall?" he persisted. "There's no homecoming for the basketball team or the baseball team, is there? There's no homecoming for the hockey team."

"We don't have no hockey team," Bruce Dunne said.

"I stand corrected."

Helen Vorgt raised her hand. "It's an attempt to scare away winter."

"Exactly. To keep winter at bay. Our distant ancestors started it. We carry on the tradition, even though we've forgotten the real meaning."

He thought again what a great job he had.

After all the ceremonies, the football game seemed almost an anti-climax. Stone Lake trailed by a field goal or a touchdown throughout most of the game. But late in the fourth quarter, Royal Knudson, sweeping left end, tossed a lateral back to Bill Erickson, who, eluding a couple of tacklers, and with the help of a spectacular block from big Bruce Dunne, dashed 40 yards into the end zone to give Stone Lake the lead. Just after he lateraled, however, Royal was hit hard by an opposing player and knocked to the ground, where he lay motionless. The cheers of the crowd died when they spotted him back at midfield. Several members of the team gathered around him and Coach Don Worthington rushed out from the sidelines. After several moments, Royal, groggy and dazed, holding his helmet in his hand, was helped off the field. Just before sitting down, he managed a wave to the crowd, which cheered.

Stone Lake won 27 to 24.

As Allen left with Dave and Orville, he was surprised to see Helen Vorgt, a short distance ahead of them, walking away by herself.

So she went to the games too, he thought.

Alone.

Tomorrow: Chapter 7 continues.