The Debt 11 (Club Alpha) by Kelly Favor

receiver, and the crowd seemed to be getting more and more anxious because
of it.   Scattered boos could now be
heard in various pockets of the stadium.
    The half ended with the score still at
7-3, as both teams had appeared to struggle to get much going on offense.
    During halftime, Faith left the box and
wandered the bowels of the stadium, watching fans stand in line to use the
bathroom, to buy hot dogs and pretzels and pizza and beer.
    She felt lost, like a ghost, slightly
numb to it all.
    She wondered what Chase was thinking
right now, what he was doing this very second.   What were the coaches saying to the
team?
    Was Velcro going to tell Chase to get it
together and throw him the ball?
    Having no idea of what might be happening
behind the scenes, Faith found herself conjuring up all sorts of bizarre
fantasies.
    But more than anything, she wished she
could talk to him.   More than that,
she just wanted Chase to be okay.
    Would he be okay if things continued on
this way?
    Halftime ended and she went back up to
the VIP box, hoping against hope that maybe things would change and the first
half would be nothing more than a bad dream.
    This time, New England kicked off to
Miami, and Miami made a great run back all the way to the fifty-yard line.   The New England fans moaned and groaned
in disgust.
    The mood was getting ugly, and it made
Faith increasingly nervous.
    Every boo, every insult thrown in Chase’s
direction felt like it hit her in the stomach, a body blow.
    None of these people knew him or what
he’d had to go through to be in this place, with the entire world virtually
against him making anything of his life.
    Faith’s whole body was tight with tension
and worry.   She just wanted to see
Chase do what he was capable of and play with the brilliance he had inside him.
    Miami scored on a long pass and now they
were ahead 14-3.
    “Fuck you, Winters !”
the man next to her screamed, as Chase and the offense took the field again.
    The man who’d just sworn at Chase was the
same guy who’d been repeating how strong Chase was over and over again in the
first half.
    Faith blocked him and all the others out
and just focused her attention on Chase.   You can do this , she thought,
trying to send him her positivity.   You know this is what you were made to
do.   Come on, Chase.   Come on.
    And for a little while, it seemed that
he’d heard her.   Chase came out
firing short, sharp passes to a multitude of different
players (but never Velcro).
    He’d completed almost a hundred percent
of his passes in this half, and they made their way to the thirty-yard line
again.    
    This time, they ran the ball twice and
failed to get anywhere, and now it was third down.
    The fans were screaming at top volume,
and when the ball was snapped, there was a fumble and Chase had to recover the
football off the ground, scooping it into his hands as the Miami defense
converged on him for the sack.
    But somehow Chase used his considerable
size and athleticism to break free of the Miami players trying to tackle him,
and he ran out of pocket and downfield.
    There were two Miami players between him
and the goal line.   Normally a
quarterback would run out of bounds so as not to risk getting tackled hard and
hurt.
    As it was, Chase had made more than a
first down and saved the play.
    But he didn’t run out of bounds, and the
crowd built to a hysteric pitch as Chase headed straight for the defenders
between him and the goal line.
    When he got to the first defender, Chase
juked from side to side, faking the defender nearly out of his shoes.   The Miami player dove and Chase was
nowhere to be found.
    “Did you see that shit?” someone
screamed, their voice so high they might have been male or female.
    The crowd roared and Faith felt her heart
soar.
    Tears came to the corners of her eyes as
she realized that this was what Chase was capable of—pure, God-given
talent and beauty.   Watching him
like this was akin to watching a