Wishbone #5: A Long Trip Home, part 1

Follow Casey Thompson, star quarterback for the Los Angeles Condors, as he struggles to come out of the closet and win - both on and off the field of play.

After Sunday’s game, and Sunday’s post-game threat by Condors’ owner Vincent Elston, Casey Thompson had simply gone home and gone right to bed, exhausted.  Depression is great for a person’s sleep.  When the phone rang at 4 a.m., Casey was still groggy, although he had been sleeping since 5 p.m. the evening before.

“Casey?  This is uncle Jimmy.  I’m sorry to call at this time – it’s 6 in the morning back here…I guess it’s earlier out in L.A.”

“Yeah, uncle Jimmy, that’s fine.  What’s wrong?”

“Casey, Martha died last night.  She had a heart attack.  We went to the hospital at 10, and she didn’t make it.  Come on home, son.”

Casey’s parents had died in a car accident when he was thirteen.  He went to live with his uncle Jimmy and aunt Martha, who lived two doors down from his family home.  Casey’s family was an old family in Fish Creek, WI.  When his parents died, half the town showed up at the funeral.  From that point on Fish Creek – the town – adopted Casey, rooted for Casey, followed Casey’s rise to fame.  They’d all be at the funeral for his aunt Martha.  And they’d all see him, benched, in trouble; that was his first thought.

As Casey pulled himself out of bed, he started thinking about Fish Creek, about his aunt and uncle, his parents, his home, his town.  He suddenly realized he hadn’t been home in over a year; that he hadn’t even called home in over five months.  He started to feel sick, and ran to the bathroom to throw up.

Casey walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom to pack for his trip home.  Without even thinking, he found himself dialing Trish Gillespie.

“Trish, it’s Casey.”

“Casey – who died?”

“Martha died last night, Trish.  I gotta get a plane back to Milwaukee, then a car up to Fish Creek.  I told uncle Jimmy I’d be home by this afternoon.  Can you help me set that up?”

“Oh, Casey.  Honey, I am so sorry.  I didn’t mean anything, I didn’t know…I am so sorry.”

“Trish.  It’s fine.  Can you just help me set that up?  I gotta pack.  Give me a call when you know what the flight schedule is, ok?  And can you call the team and let them no what’s going on?  Thanks, Trish.”

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It was raining in Fish Creek when Casey pulled in around 4 p.m.  He drove down through the center of the little town and up highway 57 to his home where there were already about 6 cars parked.  Casey saw his old high school football coach’s car outside the home and went around to the backdoor to enter through the kitchen.  The kitchen was full of people sitting around the table.  It was warm and smelled of baking.

“Casey!  Oh, Casey, it is great to see you.  I just wish it could be under different circumstances.  My condolences, son.”  Casey’s high school coach, Tim Brauer, had his arms around Casey as he spoke.

“Thank you, Coach.  Yeah, I wish it could be different times as well.” 

The rest of the room got up and greeted Casey as he moved through the kitchen to the living room where his uncle Jimmy was.

“Casey!  I didn’t hear you come in.  Oh, God, it’s good to see you!”  Jimmy was sitting at Martha’s desk, going through a stack of papers.  “Trish just called.  She’s on her way over.  She called from Sturgeon Bay, so she should be here within the hour.  She said she was with Greg Foreman.  I’m glad you still have good friends from college.  You need friends at a time like this.”

Casey walked over and sat in the chair next to the desk where Jimmy was and leaned in to speak to his uncle quietly.  “Uncle Jimmy, I am really sorry I didn’t get back here lately.  It has been a rough time in L.A…I should have been back here more.  I should have called more.”

“Hey, son.  We understand.  You’re here now and that’s all that matters.  Get your stuff up to your room.  The funeral is tomorrow morning, and people are going to be here all day and night today and tomorrow, I bet.  So you’ll be comfortable up in your room.”

Casey went up to his room with his bag.  The room had not changed one bit since he left for college.  The shelves were full of ribbons, awards, trophies.  His acceptance letter to Wisconsin State was framed and hung over his desk.  As Casey slowly walked around the room, looking at these things, he began to cry.

Downstairs, he could here a familiar voice.  He wiped his eyes and headed back down to the living room.

“Casey.  Honey, we’re so sorry.”  It was Annie Jackson, and as she spoke, she walked over to Casey and hugged him.  “Petey is out parking the car.”

“Annie.  You guys didn’t need to come out here.”

“Yeah, yeah we did, Casey.” 

Casey went outside to help Petrius with the car and the bags.  “Petrius, man, I knew you were cheap, but trying to turn a funeral into a vacation for you and Annie, man, that’s low!”

“Well, you know, she always said she wanted to see the small towns of Wisconsin!  Come here, man!”  Petrius Jackson walked over to Casey and put his arms around him and actually lifted him off the ground a bit.  Casey then bent over and grabbed the Jacksons’ bags and headed into the house.
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The funeral was short and heavily attended, despite a driving rain.  Most of the crowd headed back to the Thompson’s afterwards for the wake.

The house was full of people as Casey moved from room to room.  Annie and Petrius Jackson were in the kitchen helping with the food, and as Casey walked into the dinning room he saw Trish and Greg Foreman standing by the table.

“Casey, honey.  How are you holding up?”  Trish came around from the table to take Casey’s hands.

“Why don’t you take a couple days here.  I can call the team, it won’t be a problem.”

Greg came around from behind the table as well. “Yeah, Wishbone, let Trish handle the team.  Why don’t you stay here and relax.  I know your uncle would love it.” 

Casey stepped back from the two and said, “Trish, I’m going back first thing tomorrow morning.  Can you have a car at the airport?”

Trish looked at Greg and saw Greg shaking his head.  “Sure, Casey.  Look, why don’t I let you two talk.  I’ll call the airlines and call for a car, and I’ll let you know what the schedule is.  I gotta leave in about an hour myself.  Greg, honey, it was good to see you again.  Take care, and don’t be such a stranger back in L.A., OK?”

Greg and Trish kissed, and Trish headed out into the kitchen. “Casey.  Man.  Talk to me.  Are you OK?  Trish told me about your meeting with Elston, about what he said.  Are you OK?”

Casey went over to the bar that was set up in the corner of the dining room and grabbed a beer.  “Greg, your name came up at that meeting.” 

“What do you mean my name came up?”

“It came up as in ‘I know what you and that faggot Greg Foreman have been up to.”

Greg walked over to Casey.  “Don’t you see, Casey?  This is how it’s going be as long as you allow it.  When are you going to own up to life?”

“Don’t I see?  Don’t you see, Greg, this is exactly what I was talking about before?   There are no faggot QBs playing in the NFL and there are not going to be any.  I happen to want to play in the NFL.  I have wanted this since I was in kindergarten.  And I am going to play.  And there is only one way that is going to happen.  So if I gotta shut up and be a good boy and fly straight – and I mean that in all that ways you think I mean – then that’s what this closet case is going to do.  You tell me a different course of action, Greg, only make sure you know what the hell you are actually talking about.  I’m going back to L.A. and all this faggot shit is over.  I am getting my job back, and that’s all there is to it.  I got a family, I got a life and I got no time for this shit!”

Casey left the room, and Greg walked slowly into the living room, where he saw uncle Jimmy.   “Jimmy, it’s been good to see you, I just wish it was under different circumstances.  I gotta leave, I gotta head back to L.A. for work.  Please, accept my condolences.  Martha was a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you, Greg.”  Jimmy gave Greg a hug and walked into the kitchen as Petrius and Annie passed him with plates of food, headed into the dining room.  Casey was in there, staring out the kitchen window into the forest behind the house.

“Casey, why don’t you stay a few days?”

“You know how it is, uncle Jimmy.  I just gotta get back to L.A, try harder, win my job back.”
Jimmy walked over to the window where Casey was standing and took hold of Casey’s wrists.  “Son, your aunt and I are so proud of you.  Your mom and dad would have been so proud of you.  You need to be proud of yourself.  Whether or not you become the greatest player in football history or not means nothing to us.  You are a great young man, Casey.  The rest of it don’t mean nothing.  Please try and remember that a little more often, son.”

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To be Continued...

A Cubs and Northwestern fan, Joe Moag is a major sports junkie, and although he still runs, he hasn't been able to dunk anything more than a donut for decades.