The Interstate Connection

Harold did not feel well. He had a head cold. It had snuck up on him that morning before school. This was not the day to come down with anything as it was a major one in his ten-year-old life. At eight o’clock that night he would play his first organized football game.

On top of being sick he was nervous. He had done well enough in practices and scrimmages to earn a starting backfield position on the 85-pound Stallions. His best friend Jeff Stein was the head coach’s son. He introduced Harold to all the members of the Stallions on the first day of practice. Thanks to Jeff, Harold was accepted almost at once by all. Once he proved to them that he could play their friendship grew.

That meant nothing to Harold now. Practice and scrimmages were different from a game. In practice you went against the same boys every day. In scrimmages they did not keep the score. None of it counted. Tonight’s game would.

It also did not help that the first game was going to be at a neutral site. Even though it was a home game for the Stallions, their field did not have lights. So, the game would take place at Foreman’s Field. The Stallions would meet in front of the school where they practiced and played their games. There they would load themselves into vans and cars and carpool up the interstate to the park.

When everyone arrived, the boys loaded themselves into vehicles with everything but their helmets on. Harold got into Coach Stein’s van with Jeff and a group of boys who mostly played offense. Coach Stein drove while another coach, Mr. Voss, sat up front with him. Harold took a spot on the first row of the three-seat van by the driver’s side window. Still nervous and weak he lay his head against the seat and stared out at the parking lot.

In all there were thirteen people in the van. Two coaches and eleven boys. The only boy who was not full of energy and excitement was Harold. Before Coach Stein got into the van Jeff and the rest of the team were hopping from seat to seat and hitting one another on their pads. Though Harold wanted to take part he just could not. So, he smiled wanly at the antics and continued to stare out the window.

Coach Stein finished talking to the parents of the other vehicles then stepped into the van. He told the boys to settle down so that he could concentrate on driving and keeping the carpool together. Everyone took a seat, but the talking continued. It would all the way to Foreman Field.

Harold did not take part. He stared out of the window as the van pulled out of the parking lot. It occurred to him that all the other times he had ridden with Mr. Stein Harold had never taken a window seat. And he took part in the talk and mischief. But not today.

The van eased onto County Lane. Harold looked out at a white two-story wooden farmhouse surrounded by trees. There was no one on the front porch as an American flag hung lifeless from one of its posts.

It was not long before Coach Stein turned the van right to merge onto the state highway. This would take them to the interstate. Harold watched as the coach steered the big van along the merge lane. He knew that it would take time as the coach aimed to keep the caravan together. Once coach Stein knew that there was enough room for everyone to merge, he hit the gas and entered the left lane. The other cars followed. They were on their way.

Every type of vehicle passed them as they headed towards the interstate. From the van Harold could see down into the cars. People were hurrying home from work. Harold was not used to being surrounded by traffic as he and his teammates lived in a rural area.

Harold’s thoughts turned to the game ahead. He wondered how he would perform. Jeff had told him that their opponent was good, but the Stallions always beat them. This was the feeling of those in the van as the horseplay that began in the parking lot continued.

Coach Stein and Mr. Voss tried to calm the boys down. Harold heard Mr. Voss say, “I wish the rest of you boys had colds like Harold. He’s the only one who is behaving himself.”

As the van neared the interstate, Harold became sleepy. He closed his eyes and began to drift off. No one noticed except Mr. Voss.

“Look at Harold,” he said. “He’s fallen asleep. Poor boy.”

When Harold awoke the team was on the interstate. As with the state highway they were passed by those headed to their destinations. The only difference was that the interstate was four lanes, so more cars passed at higher speeds.

Harold closed his eyes as the commotion around him continued. In his football uniform it was hard to get comfortable. The shoulder pads did not allow him to put his head against anything firm. He turned to the window to get comfortable but was unable to.

 After a couple of minutes Harold decided it was no use. The team would be arriving at Foreman’s Field. Sleep would have to wait.

Little did he know it, but a car was riding alongside them. In it were two young men about the age of his older brothers. The young man on the passenger’s side had his seat tilted back and was sleeping.

When Harold opened his eyes, he was looking down into the car with the young men. He saw the man in the passenger’s seat lying back with his eyes closed. He had a mustache and beard. A hat covered his eyes. To Harold it looked as though he was tired from a long day’s work. It seemed to Harold the man wanted nothing more than rest.

Harold was about to turn away from the window when he saw the man in the car slowly open his eyes. It was as if he sensed someone was watching him. The man turned slowly to his right then looked up to see Harold looking down on him. The man noticed Harold’s football uniform and a smile slowly crossed his face. They made eye contact and Harold smiled back.

For a moment, it looked as though the young man could see himself as a boy through Harold. His smile became larger as he looked at him. He slowly raised his hand and waved. Harold felt an instant connection and waved back.

The man turned to the driver and tapped him on the side. He said something to him, and they both looked over at Harold and smiled. The driver spoke to the young man, and they shared a laugh. Then the young man looked back at Harold.

As the car and van drove side by side the young man raised his hand and gave Harold the peace sign. Harold gave it back. Then the young man clinched his hand into a fist giving Harold the soul brother sign. Harold gave it back. Both smiled as they did. Harold watched as the man lay back in his seat and closed his eyes.

The car continued past them, and Harold watched it get smaller in the distance. For the rest of the trip, he thought of that moment.

Here were two people who had never met and would never meet again. For whatever reason they had connected. It was as if they knew exactly what each was feeling at that moment. Harold saw a man who like him wanted nothing more than to just relax even if it was for a brief time. When the man opened his eyes, he saw Harold in uniform, and it sparked something in him. It made the young man want to communicate with the boy who may have reminded him of himself.

Their bond may have lasted only two minutes. No one in the van with Harold saw it. It was a private moment that only Harold and the young man had shared. It had made them both feel good.

Harold continued to stare out the window. For the moment his anxiety had gone away. As he thought about the young man who had befriended him Harold felt like he had gained a brother. He hoped the young man in that car felt the same.