Page 13 of The Falcon and the Foe

“Am I, though? None of the parents in his grade like me. What are they telling their kids about me, about Josh? Some days, he spends more time with Edith. I feel like I’m constantly trying to keep up.”

“You’re doing great, buddy.” Leo massaged my shoulder as if he could tell I was carrying the weight of parenthood on them.

“I need the Falcons to work for him. It could be his best shot to have fun and finally make friends. I want it to live up to all the dreams in his head.” I had put him in basketball and soccer, and he hated both. He’d taken an art class at the Bea Arthur Center, but his interest petered out. “That won’t happen if Russ runs the program by himself. He is someone who is incapable of having fun. It could scare Josh away.”

The Single Dads Club was my release valve. I could reveal my ugly, scary feelings to my family.

“Fun for Russ is probably eating sugar-free pudding and watching a nature documentary. And in the meeting, he kept saying, ‘If you don’t like it, there’s the door.’” I impersonated him with my most constipated-sounding voice. “Yeah, I know where the door is. There’s a big sign that says EXIT.”

“The bonus is that Russ isn’t half-bad to look at,” Leo said.

“Too bad he has to ruin it by opening his mouth. Trust me, I will not be ogling Russ.” Like I did in the grocery store today. His eyes caught me off guard. It was their fault.

“You sure do love to complain about him,” Mitch said with a shit-eating grin.

“Because he is someone to complain about. I’ve already told you guys I don’t date. Period. End of sentence. Put two spaces after that motherfucker. I tried the boyfriend thing in my twenties, and it left me with a string of toxic relationships.” Not to mention broken hearts. Lots of them. When I fell for someone, I fell hard, and all rational thought flew out the window. I let one boyfriend drain my savings and run up my credit cards, a mistake I was still paying for today thanks to the debt-industrial complex. I didn’t like who I was with other guys, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to subject Josh to that person.

“You got this,” Buzz said. “You’re going to kick Falcon ass.”

“There’s only one ass I want to kick.”

“Russ Ettinger,” the three of them said in unison.

5

RUSS

It shouldn’t have surprised me that Cal was going to be late for our first meeting. Ironically, tardiness was Cal’s most consistent quality. At every Spring Carnival meeting, at every school event, you could set your watch to the fact that Cal didn’t look at his.

It was routine. It was to be expected.

And yet, when his text message buzzed on my phone that he was running fifteen minutes late and to “start without him,” as if we were meeting for a quick lunch, it triggered the usual needle pricks in my chest that came with interacting with Cal. This was how it was going to be all year, wasn’t it? I would do all the work, and Cal would sweep in and take half the credit.

I would’ve loved to kick him out, but I didn’t have that power. He could complain to the regional organization, and it would turn into a whole thing. But more importantly, I didn’t want him to pull his son Josh out of the Falcons. I could see the excitement on Josh’s face at the introduction meeting. He reminded me of myself at that age.

I didn’t wait for any man. As soon as the clock hit six, I shut the door to the meeting room. Every Falcon was accounted for, here and on time, except for Cal and Josh. I walked to the front of the room and gave the Falcons salute. They saluted back.

“Good evening. Tonight, we are going to do First Aid role-playing scenarios. First Aid training is an important foundational step in your Falcons journey. Not only will it help you secure badges, but it will also provide you with the basis for handling any situation that may arise. Preparation is paramount.”

At every meeting, before we jumped into the activity, I had the kids go around and discuss interesting things they saw in nature and ways that they’ve helped make our community a better place. Even something as simple as picking up a piece of litter or volunteering. It was hard to get responses out of the scouts. Lots of looking at the floor or each other.

“Quentin, do you want to go first?”

“I don’t have anything, Dad.”

“Sure you do. Remember the old lady in downtown Sourwood.” I waved my hand to help trigger his memory. “She was lost…”

“Oh, yeah.” Just before he spoke, he let out a sharp sigh that caught me off guard. “I, uh, gave directions to an old lady who wanted to find the drug store.” He shrugged.

“She was all turned around, walking in the opposite direction she needed to go.” I beamed with pride at the memory, though I had to prod Quentin to speak up when we ran into her.

“Way to go, Saint Quentin,” Chase Abernathy said in a sing-songy voice that prompted laughter from the other scouts. I knew I was supposed to be the impartial leader, but Chase could be a real punk. Whenever Malcolm and I had gone out to dinner with Chase’s parents, his dad would order the most expensive glass of wine and entree on the menu, then insist that we split the bill down the middle.

Quentin had the light skin that made blushing an extinction-level event.

“He’s not a saint, Chase. Just a regular kid practicing the values of the Falcons.”

Chase snickered, and other kids followed. Quentin’s face had turned into the red planet, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

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