One More Talk with Dad

I sat on the steps of Burnie’s front porch with my elbows on my knees. He bounced out the door, singing my most despised rhyme, “Mable, Mable, strong and able, get your elbows off the table!”

He stopped after one verse, when he saw that I wasn’t laughing the fake laugh I always gave him when he started up with that silly song.

“What’s wrong, Mable? Did Coach Rollins put you swimmers through the wringer at practice tonight? I thought I smelled an apple pie over at your place when I came home from school. That should have cheered you up!”

“Darn it! I didn’t even get a slice of pie after dinner,” I whined. “I’ll bet Mother will let me have one before I go to bed, though, after the horrible news they gave me.” I almost started to cry again, but I didn’t want to, not in front of Burnie.

“Whoa! There really is something wrong. I was just joking around! Sorry. What’s going on?” Burnie plopped down next to me and became the concerned best friend he could now tell that I needed him to be. He was the nicest fella in Des Moines. He asked me again, “What’s the matter? You look like someone just died. Is your grandmother okay?”

“Grandma Von Dornum is fine.” I could feel a large waterfall of words coming. I hoped Burnie was ready.

I let it all spill out, “What died is my perfect senior year. My dad has to leave for Texas and California to work on a couple of stupid skyscrapers. He’s leaving tomorrow morning, and he’s not coming back until after Christmas! He’ll miss the state swim finals and at least half of my basketball games! Plus, I wanted to talk to him about what I want to really do instead of basketball, but I haven’t even had time to talk to you about it, plus now I am so confused and it just makes me so sad! What am I going to do, Burnie?” I put my head down in my lap and just folded myself in half.

“Good grief, Mable. Pull yourself together. This sounds really bad, but you’re completely out of control. I don’t think I understand at all what you just said about basketball. I’m sorry about your dad, but what do you think you are going to do instead of basketball?”

“You know what I want to do. We talked about it last Saturday when we were raking leaves. You just laughed at me, but I was serious. I wanted to talk to you about it before I talked to Dad, but now there are only a few hours left, and everything is a big bunch of hooey. I was sitting pretty for the rest of this year, and now I am completely stymied about what to do. Burnie, you have to help me!”

“I’ll help you, but first you have to help me remember what I was laughing about. You make me laugh about a whole pile of things!”

I was done crying. This was a mess, but Burnie was my only chance to fix it. I had to do this quickly. By “fix it,” I mean how was I going to get Burnie on my side about what I was going to do, when he couldn’t even remember me telling him about it earlier? Then, how and when was I going to talk to Dad about it? I had to tell Dad about it before he left tomorrow morning. He was at home right then, packing his trunk.

I just dove right in, “Don’t you remember what I told you I wanted to try to do last week? I was going to try a different sport this winter instead of basketball?”

Now Burnie looked completely confused. “Another winter sport? All there is, you goof-ball, is basketball and boys’ swim team.” Then, as he let what he had just said soak in, his face turned white and he asked, “You want to be on the boys’ swim team? Are you crazy? It’s all boys. Coach Johnson isn’t going to let you be on the team with all boys.”

“Miss Hawn let me be Sports Editor; all my assistants are boys and I’m doing a good job. No, I’m doing a fantastic job. Anyway, I can swim faster than every boy on that team. Why wouldn’t Coach Johnson want me?” I demanded.

Burnie answered me slowly, like he thought I needed a very simple explanation. It annoyed me when he did that. He knew I was at least as smart as he was, and he still said it really slow. “He probably would not let you on the boys’ team because you do swim faster than every boy on it, and… You… are… not… a… boy.”

“Exactly! I’m faster! That’s dumb! And ridiculous! That’s what I just said! I thought you would think this is a good idea. It gives me a whole new season to prepare for the University of Iowa. Competing against boys will help me. They don’t swim as fast as I do, but they swim better than the girls. I need to keep swimming!” I was a little miffed at Burnie for not supporting me.

“That all sounds good, Mable, but I guarantee you they are not going to let you on the team. Even if Coach Johnson wanted to try it, I know the boys on the team would not have any part of it. They might even all quit. How would that work? It’s not a good idea at all. Just go out for basketball. Find out if you can use the pool for your own practice when no one else is using it. Trying to get on the boys’ team is a waste of your time. It’s not going to happen.” Burnie folded his arms across his chest, like he had just decided everything and solved some big problem for me.

I was sad about Dad leaving and now I had no support from my best friend. Maybe I could just break a leg and then my life would be a three-way disaster! I instantly scolded myself for thinking about something as awful as that.

“Well, I can see that I am getting no support from my best friend, so I am going to leave now and go speak with my dad. Maybe he will think it is a good idea. He wants me to swim!” I blasted the last words over my shoulder as I marched back toward our front yard.

I heard Burnie mutter under his breath, “Crazy girl!” as I reached our porch.

I flung back at him, “You just wait and see how crazy I am!” I still had time to talk to Dad before bed. I stormed into the house and slammed the front door. I must have slammed it a little bit too hard, though, because Mother came running out of the kitchen.

She saw me. “Heavens to Betsy, Mable! What’s going on?”

I immediately pasted a repentant look on my face. “Sorry, Mother. I was just in a hurry to see Dad. Is he packing for his trip?”

“Yes, he’s upstairs, honey. You’d better hope you didn’t break that door, slamming it like that,” Mother warned me. “Dad won’t have time to fix it before he leaves and I’ll have to pay someone to do it.”

I gave her a hug and said, “I am really sorry, Mother. I just have something important to talk to Dad about and I’m in a hurry.” I went back to the door to open and close it several times. It seemed good to me. “It’s not broken, Mother. I won’t ever do that again, I promise. May I go talk to Dad now?”

“Of course, dear. You could always talk to me, too, you know.” Mom looked a little hurt, like I was leaving her out.

“It’s about sports, Mother. We will have plenty of time to talk when Dad is gone. I’ll come back down and say goodnight to you before I go to bed, okay?”

With that reassurance, I bounded up the stairs. Mother didn’t like it when I skipped steps, but Dad said it was good for my strength and flexibility.

I knocked on the bedroom door and called to Dad, “It’s me, Dad. You were right. Shooting some baskets and talking to Burnie helped me straighten all this out a little bit.”

Dad smiled and said, “Did you come up to help me pack? I’m not very good at folding shirts. Mom is packing me some food for the trip. You’ll be at school when I get on the train tomorrow morning. I’m sorry, but this is going to help us out when we really need it. You’ll be thanking me when you are at the university next fall.”

“You’re probably right, Dad. In fact, I’m sure you are. It is just happening so fast,” I said as I sat down on the bed. His trunk was on the floor at the foot of the bed. He had packed it about half full so far. I had to get over him leaving for a couple of months and get over it really fast. I suddenly realized, sitting there talking to him, that I had to focus on my new goal. That would make those months seem like minutes and would make Dad even more proud of me.

“Dad, I’ve got to talk to you about something else right now. I was going to wait, but now that you are leaving tomorrow, we have to talk about it tonight. It’s a sports thing; actually, it’s a big sports thing.”

“Is it about swimming, or is it about basketball? Swimming is coming to an end here pretty darn soon, and it’s looking like you girls are going to have a great basketball season starting up in about two weeks. What’s this big sports thing?” Dad closed the lid of the trunk and plopped down on it, facing me; looking right at me and waiting for me to tell him something “big.”

“Okay, Dad, you know how I wanted to be the sports editor of the Oracle, and Miss Hawn thought I couldn’t because I’m a girl? I knew I was the best person for the job. I convinced her that I could do it better than the boys, and I’ve proven that I was right. The sports section of the Oracle has never been better. Being a girl did not stop me on the Oracle, and I’m not going to let it stop me now,” I pronounced, perhaps a little too adamantly.

“Stop you now?” asked Dad, “Stop you from what?”

“Dad, I’m trying to tell you that I’m going to ask Coach Johnson if I can swim on the boys’ team. I’m not going to go out for girls’ basketball. I’m going to try out for the boys’ swim team.” There, I said it.

Silence. Dad said nothing. I was pretty sure he had no idea what he should say.

I was wrong. He knew exactly what to say. His voice was strong.

“Mable, I think it sounds like you have thought about this for a while. You certainly have done an excellent job with the Oracle. You are a champion swimmer. I hope Coach Johnson decides you would be a real asset for his swim team. I wish I could be here in person to support you, but you know how I feel. You are a very special girl, a very special athlete, and a very special daughter.”

He stood up and motioned for me to stand up, too. We had one of those great big bear hugs, then he stepped back and put his hands on my shoulders, saying, “You go and get on that team, little girl. I won’t be here, but your mother and Burnie will back you up.”

I felt so much stronger than when I stepped into that bedroom. I was not quite as sure as Dad was about Mother and Burnie backing me up, but even if I had to do it all by myself, I was going to try out for the boys’ swim team. Dad thought it was a great idea, and that was all I needed to hear.

“Dad, do you think you could talk to Mother about it tonight? I mean, after I go to bed? She’s busy in the kitchen now, and you’re busy packing. Please tell her it’s a great idea. I really need you to tell her what you told me. Then when you’re gone tomorrow night at dinner, I will talk to her about it.” Suddenly, I had a plan in mind.

Deciding to share the plan with Dad, I continued, “Swim tryouts with Coach Johnson are not until a week from Thursday. Our final girls’ swim meet is this weekend, so I’ll have a few days after that to decide when to go talk to him and what to say. I can’t just show up at the tryouts. The boys and Coach would be shocked if a girl just showed up with no warning. I would never do that. I have to convince Coach to want me to try out.” This was beginning to sound possible. I’d show that old Burnie!

Dad seemed to think all that was a good idea. “You go ahead, finish your homework and get ready for bed, Mable, and I will take care of Mother knowing about this scheme of yours.”

“Dad, this is not a scheme! This is a game plan! I’m very serious about being on the boys’ team and being able to compete with them. And I finished my homework before dinner!”

“Sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to say scheme, I like your plan. If any girl can make this work, it will be you. Go down and kiss your mother goodnight. Scram!” he laughed and pointed to the door. “Then get yourself to bed, young lady! You have school again tomorrow.”