Punishment for Pole Land

Texas is home to more than one collegiate football team. As a matter of fact, Austin, Texas is home to two teams: the Texas Rattle Snakes and the Texas State Broncos. There is a rivalry between the two teams as old as the institutions themselves. Every year the two schools face off and the community dons the colors of their favorite team. Trash talking begins between neighbors and bets are made. Pressure is put on the young men who compete to win for the sake of their school’s pride and the community of fans that support them throughout the season.

This year, players from both teams crossed paths at an establishment called Pole Land Cabaret. They kept their distance at first, but as the night went on, and the beers kept flowing, an argument broke out that the Rattlesnakes were hogging the dancers. This led to a brawl where bottles, chairs, and tables were used as weapons. Innocent bystanders were injured, along with one of the dancers, and thousands of dollars of damage was done to the establishment before the police arrived to restore order. 

The judge ordered community service for the players involved, pairing up players from each team to work together. Rattlesnakes defensive end Dontell Marks was paired up with Broncos quarterback Justin Sims. They were assigned to assist the Sisters of Mercy at the St. Mary’s Orphanage. 

“You know, we wouldn’t be here if you and your boys weren’t waving around your daddies’ money like marijuana plants in the wind,” Justin comments as he and Dontell wait in Sister Abigails office, seated in front of her desk.

“If your team wasn’t so butt ugly, maybe the girls would have paid more attention to you,” Dontell snaps back.

“Please, I get more trim in my sleep than you’ll ever get,” Justin says confidently.

“In your sleep is the only place you get it.”

“Alright, boys, enough bickering,” Sister Abigail says as she walks into the room. “I expect you two to work together and set a good example for these kids while you are here.”

“Ma’am, this is bull…” Dontell begins when a ruler snaps his wrist faster than Indiana Jone’s whip.

Dontell, standing at six-foot-five and weighing in at three hundred ten pounds, shoots out of his chair with a menacing glare. The five-foot-four seventy-eight-year-old nun presses against him and looks up at him with a glare even more menacing.

Dontell’s countenance turned to one of disbelief and he quietly sat back down. Justin burst out in laughter, earning him a strike from the ruler.

“Quiet! Essentially what you boys are going to do,” Sister Abigail begins as she takes a seat on the corner of her desk, “is organize playtime. Right now, their play is unstructured. We’d like to see them learning to function as teams. Being football players, I’m assuming you two can handle this.”

The boys stare at her, rubbing their wrists.

“Sister Marianna, can you take these young men to meet the kids.”

A young nun appears in the doorway. “Absolutely, Sister Abigail. Right this way gentleman.”

Marianna leads Dontell and Justin up a flight of stairs to a door that opens into a wide-open loft where the children sleep and play. When she opens the door, the sound of chaos reverberates through their skulls with the intensity of a hundred frat parties. Kids are laughing, screaming, crying, fighting. They are climbing, jumping, running, swinging. One kid is calmly reading like there is nothing going on around her. There are a couple kids playing video games on the TV with a small crowd around them.

 “Holy… how many are there,” Justin asks, overwhelmed by the sight.

“Twenty-two,” Sister Marianna replies. “Quiet! Quiet down now! I have some people I want you to meet. This is Dontell Marks from Texas University and Justin Sims from Texas State University. They are football players. They are here to teach you how to play team sports and other games. Why don’t you take some time before lunch to get to know one another. Then, after lunch, you can all go outside.” Sister Marianna turns to the boys and says, “Goodluck gentleman.”

Justin approaches a bunk where a group of kids has gathered. He sits on the edge of the bottom bunk and introduces himself.

“Hi, I’m Justin. Who are you guys,” he asks, and they all sound off.

 “Lucy.”

“Penny.”

“Maynard.”

“Benji.”

“Teesha.”

“What do you guys like to do for fun?”

Teesha gives Benji a look and says, “We love pillow fights.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Look at how much bigger and stronger I am than you guys.”

“Handicap,” Benji yells, and he throws a pillowcase over Justin’s head, bringing it down over his shoulders.

Justin pops up, hitting his head on the upper bunk, knocking him back down. Penny socks him in the back of the head with a pillow, knocking him to the floor. Justin tries to take the pillowcase off, but the barrage of pillows to the head and face makes it hard. He gets to his feet, rips the case off and shouts, “Enough,” his hair a mess and his face all red. “If you guys want to play something you have to play fair with rules.”

The kids stare at Justin blankly as Maynard sneaks up behind him and whacks him as hard as he can in the back of the knees causing him to drop. The kids mob him, swinging pillows like they are putting out a fire.

From across the room Dontell laughs. He decides he’s going to talk up the kids playing video games. Dontell considers himself a bit of a gamer himself, so he thinks he has a chance to connect with these kids.

“What's up, boys? I’m Dontell.”

“I’m Donner,” says the bigger kid playing the game. “It’s my last name, but everyone calls me it. This here is Flea. He’s little and jumps around all the time, so we just call him Flea.” The little guy playing next to Donner doesn’t look away from the TV, but he lifts his head in acknowledgement. The big one back there, he doesn’t talk. We call him Rhino because if you mess with him, he’ll charge right over you.”

“I’m Romano. They call me Romy for short. I’m the ladies’ man around here.”

“Romy, you look like my butt. Aint no lady likin’ you,” Flea teases.

“Shoot, nobody can resist a chocolate shake,” Romano says as he gyrates his hips in a dance like fashion.

“They call me porkchop because, well, look at me,” says the chubby kid with oversized glasses and crew cut.

“What are you guys playing? I’m a bit of a gamer myself. I bet I can show you a thing or two.”

“You think so grandpa,” Flea says, pausing the game. “Come on then, have a seat and show us the ways of the Atari.”

“It’s ‘Street Racer 3.’ Fleas behind. Do you think you can catch up,” Donner asks.

“Oh yeah. We play this game all the time. You’re in trouble, son.”

Dontell gets caught up in the game trying to catch up to Donner. He doesn’t notice Flea crawling under his chair to tie his shoelaces together. The other boys razz Dontell for missing key objects in the game distracting him further. When Flea crawls out, he gives a thumbs up to Romano who wets his finger and swirls it inside Dontell’s ear. Dontell is grossed out by the sensation and jumps up to chase the boy only to fall flat on his face.

“Get him Porkchop!”

Porkchop squats down with his butt directly in Dontell’s face and lets one rip. The smell is foul. Dontell gags, turns his head, and pulls his shirt over his nose. The kids break out into laughter.

“Come on guys. Let’s go get lunch,” Donner says, leading the kids out of the room.

Justin approaches Dontell, laughing. “Not so easy, is it?”

“They are the spawn of Satan. I’m sure of it.”

“They’re just kids, but I think we’re going to have to work together if we are going to have any chance of surviving these little typhoons.”

“Well, we have to figure out something to do with them after lunch. Do you have any ideas?”

“I have one,” Justin says with a grin on his face.

After lunch the kids gather in the gym to wait for Justin and Dontell to take them outside. The college boys walk in, each one carrying a red ball.

“Listen up,” Dontell says. “We’re not going outside today. We’re saving that for tomorrow.”

“We have a special game for you today. It’s called dodgeball. It’ll be us versus you. If you are hit by a ball, you sit down. If you hit us with a ball, we sit down. If anyone catches a ball, the person who threw it sits down. Any questions,” Justin asks.

“Okay. Now run,” Dontell says.

The kids slowly start to get up and Dontell pegs Flea in the head, hard. The boy is knocked for a loop and rolls off the bleachers. Donner’s eyes go wide and yells, “RUN!”

All the kids scatter in every which direction. Justin spots Maynard and zings one into the middle of his back. The boy shrieks, arching his back and dropping to his knees. Dontell sees Porkchop try to get away as fast as his chubby little legs will move. He puts the ball right between his legs and watches the boy fall flat on his face. Justin nails Teesha in the stomach so hard she doubles over. Benji gets hit in the ankles and he hits the ground. The kid who was reading, a girl with dark hair in long pigtail braids, got ahold of a ball and tried tagging Dontell. Dontell caught it. “Go sit down, Wednesday Adams.”

When the game was over, the bleachers were filled with dazed kids covered with bruised knees, skinned elbows, busted lips, bumped chins, sore backs, stomach aches, and headaches. They looked like worn out war survivors awaiting transport out of hell.

“What we play tomorrow depends on you. Show us respect, and we’ll treat you with respect. There are a lot of games we can teach you. Team sports have been beneficial for me and Dontell. They could be beneficial for you too. At the very least, they are fun and great exercise,” Justin tells them.

“But we’re not coming in here every day and being disrespected the way we were today. If we are again, it’ll be more dodgeball. From the looks of things, I don’t think any of you want that,” says Dontell.

A low moan of, “No,” rises up from the bleachers.

“If anybody needs to go see the nurse, now is the time to do it.”

Dontell and Justin report to Sister Abigail’s office before leaving for the day.

“I noticed you boys have a peculiar way of getting those kids to mind you. Nurse Shirly was busy patching up scrapes this afternoon.”

“It might seem unorthodox, ma’am, but the kids had no respect for us. I think we can move forward now where the kids will listen and learn.”

“Indeed. Kids are resilient. They’ll bounce back. But in the future, boys, if you have a problem with one of the children, send them my way instead of hitting them on the head with a ball. I think we’ll all benefit from more practical disciplinary tactics; don’t you think?”

Dontell and Justin look at each other and shrug. “Yeah, we can do that.”