Ezzy's Education (Part 4: The Master Communicator) by Garrett Murch
THE MASTER COMMUNICATOR
In the third quarter of that Friday night football game, Ebbingwas driving down the field when Trunk Langston fired a pass intoa defender’s hands for an interception. The defender ran the ballall the way back for a touchdown, a “Pick Six.” Fisherton kicked the extra point and the game was tied at twenty-one.
“You morons!” Trunk yelled at his teammates. “You ran the wrong fucking play!” “We ran the play you called in the huddle,” widereceiver Rory Clark said.
“You lie, Clark!” Trunk yelled.
“We did,” said another teammate.
“You,” Trunk said to the teammate. “You wouldn’t know a play ifI shoved it up your fat ass.”
“We ran the play you called, Trunk,” said Kelile “K” Lewis,stepping toward Trunk. K was the only player on the team more rugged and athletic than Trunk.
“K, Is this your team or mine?” Trunk asked.
“It’s our team, Trunk,” Kelile said, gesturing at his teammates. “Allof ours.”
Trunk stared at K’s brown, sweaty forehead and dead seriousbrown eyes behind his facemask. K returned the stare and did not flinch. Trunk turned to the fans and yelled, “Let’s win this thing!” He took off running, hands in the air, along the fence near the half-fullbleachers made of warped wood planks. The crowd livened up.
A small group of students, led by Trendon Bravissimo, yelled, “Let Trunk be Trunk!” Trunk gave them a thumbs up.
On its next three possessions, Ebbing’s plays heavily relied onK’s blocking for Trunk to have any chance of success. They worked. Trunk threw two touchdowns and ran for another. After each touchdown, he ran along the fence blowing kisses at the crowd. Afew times he yelled to the crowd, “I love you if you love me!” or“You’re my people!”
Ebbing’s defense held and the Sentinels won, 42-21. Leading the team out of Schmaltzy Stadium past exiting fans, Trunk blew more kisses. Trendon’s group, now joined by Blitzer Langston’s crew, waved small red, white, and blue flags that read “Trunk for President” or“Make Ebbing High Great Again.” A few of them waved little American flags with their Trunk flags.
After the team’s post-game meeting, Trunk marched across the parking lot.
“Not bad, son.”
“Not bad, Dad!”
Blitzer Langston took a swig from his flask. Gulp.
“You’re going to drive him home,” Officer Holmes said.
Trunk looked up and saw Officer Holmes.
“Yes sir, officer.” He hung his head.
“You played well tonight, young man.”
“Thank you, Officer.”
“It’s nice having someone as talented as Kelile blocking for you, isn’t it?”
Trunk looked up again. “Yeah, whatever.” He walked away.
“Boy, let’s go!” Blitzer hollered from the truck passenger seat.“We got stuff to discuss.” Gulp.
Trunk looked back at Officer Holmes, who was already walkingaway.
In their red truck full of rust holes, Trunk and his father talked about the game. By the time Trunk finished venting about his lousy teammates, they were on the outskirts of Ebbing and turning past the giant oak tree at the corner of their road.
“That Lucinda Barron,” Blitzer said.
“What about her?”
“World class bitch.”
“I know.”
“We lit her pamphlets on fire before the game.” Gulp. Blitzerlaughed and looked satisfied.
“What? What pamphlets?”
“The black ones. They said, ‘ban toxic masculinity.’ We lit ‘em up in the parking lot.” Gulp.
“Ha! So good, Dad. So good.”
“Get kids pissed at her. So they’d do anything for you.”
“Working on it, Dad.”
“World’s stacked against us. Ain’t nothin’ we can do; noeducation gonna change it. Folks are pissed, I tell ya. Take it out onthat girl; that might give ‘em hope.” Blitzer cleared his throat. “People will follow you.”
Trunk narrowed his eyes. “They’ll follow me to the gates of Hell.”
“Attaboy. Give ‘em somethin’ to believe in.”
“Lucinda’s gonna cheat,” Trunk said as they pulled into their driveway. “There’s no way she could beat me. I bet she’ll mess with the ballots.”
His father got out and said, “Don’t play by the rules. Don’t bepolite. That civility shit will get you nowhere.” He cleared his throat. “And don’t fuck it up,” he said. “Or you’ll end up like me.” Blitzer walked under the open garage door and through the mess on the concrete, reaching the three stairs to the door of their trailer.Trunk watched his father stumble over the first stair, which had needed repair since the year before.
Grabbing his backpack from the truck bed, Trunk pulled out histhirty-two-ounce water bottle. He placed it in the truck cup holderbefore driving to the post-game party.
At the party, a bonfire lit the parts of people that faced it.Music blasted from a sound system worth more than the truck itwas installed in. Standing between the bonfire and Trunk’s truckstood Trendon Bravissimo in shorts and a t-shirt. At 5’7”, Trendon’sarms were o thicker than a harvest-ready cucumber, his legs the diameter of a grocery store-size zucchini.
Trendon hollered, “Get Trunk’s song playing! Loud!” In seconds, the sound system blasted “We Dem Boyz.”
Trunk grabbed his water bottle, exited the truck, and walked toward the bonfire. He looked proud. Empty beer cans and bottles speckled the ground. Many of the girls looked happy or curious; many of the boys had a rowdy gleam in their eyes…