text: He put on his oven mitts when he heard the beep. The steel, commercial-sized oven could cook enough for 100 people, but he only needed to feed 40. Opening the oven, he felt the heat blast his face as he looked down at the lasagna casserole. Steam rose from the wide tray of penne pasta, melted cheese, sizzling tomato sauce and hot sausage. It looked like it had burnt on the sides, but he didn’t care. These kids would eat anything. After pulling out the tray and placing it on the counter, he took off his gloves and walked over to his bag. From inside it he pulled out a clear, unmarked bottle filled with a light pink powder. The casserole would be an easy meal to make the powder disappear. He would just mix it in with the serving spoon and voilà. None of the players would need to know what they were eating. He had regretted making burgers during the first week he began feeding the team. He had to sprinkle each individual patty with the powder and make sure it was covered with the slice of cheese. That’s when he decided to start making meals that fit in large trays. He planned to continue through his rotation of shareable meals for the next few weeks, at least until after the league championship game. ************************ “Chef Bill! Chef Bill! Chef Bill!” Cody chanted along with his teammates, but not as loud as some of the hungry linemen, as the cook walked out of the kitchen holding a tray of steaming food. They had used to call him Mr. Hamlin when he taught chemistry, but ever since his accident in the lab, he was no longer allowed to teach classes. It was probably for the best. Some students were surprised Principal Webber allowed him to stay on as cook, but the principal had assured everyone there was no risk, and that Bill was a good man who deserved another chance. Cody thought the principal did it because he felt bad for Bill. Even as a teacher, he always had a hint of sadness in his eyes. Cody had heard his wife left him a few years back, and once when he was biking home he saw Bill walking toward the trailer park where his mom told him not to wander. “What’d you think of that new play?” Steve asked him. “What’s that? Cody responded, distracted. “Oh yeah, the play. I think it’s smart. If the linemen make their blocks, I’ll have no one but the safety to beat. And I can juke him out.” “Forget juking. Run over him,” Steve said, patting him on the shoulder. “Look how big you’ve gotten. You can run over anyone.” After Bill put the tray down on the table, Cody went up with Steve and the other seniors to take his serving. Then the juniors went up, followed by the underclassmen. The older players scooped the better pieces of the casserole, leaving the burnt edges for their younger teammates, but that didn’t stop anyone from wolfing down their meals. The typically loud banter from the group was replaced by the sounds of forks and chewing mouths as they scarfed down the first food they had eaten in hours. Practice always made them hungry. “All right everyone, listen up,” Coach Hunter said once he saw that most of the players had finished eating. “It’s no secret that the season didn’t start out the way we wanted. But you guys have shown serious improvement over the last few weeks, and if we win tomorrow we’ll be 4-4. We would still need to win our last three games to make the league championship, but like I always say: one week at a time. The games are not going to be won on the field. They are going to be won at practice and in the weight room. If you put in the extra effort when no one is watching, you’ll be able to celebrate with the whole school cheering from the bleachers. Get to sleep early tonight, and you’ll wake up stronger tomorrow. Team on three. One. Two. Three." “TEAM” the players chanted in unison. Then they began to throw away their plates and file out of the cafeteria. ************************* He opened the door to his mobile home, a rusted trailer not much bigger than a minivan with cinderblocks instead of wheels. The key always got stuck at first, and he had to jiggle the handle to get the door open. Once inside, Bill glanced around to make sure everything was still in its place. On the right side of the trailer was his pull-out couch and a small television set. On the left side, the kitchen countertop was lined with beakers, test tubes and a plastic shelf filled with bags containing various minerals in powdered form. Ever since he lost his job as chemistry teacher, this cramped kitchen had become his lab. Bill pulled the bags out of the shelf one by one to check how much of each mineral remained. He had only mastered the formula for the strength serum about a month earlier, but already he had depleted each of the necessary minerals significantly. He would need to make sure he had enough to last through the league championship game. As he sifted through his materials and thought about his plan, he wondered if the kids had noticed themselves growing unnaturally stronger. They probably wouldn’t think anything of it. They were going through puberty anyway, and their egos would likely attribute the growth to their work in the weight room. If the kids didn’t notice it, he worried that the parents might, or even the coaches. The team had improved and won its last three games. But the regular season wins didn’t matter to Bill. The bet he placed had been on the league championship. His bookie didn’t usually accept bets on high school sports, but he made an exception for this one. It couldn’t be on an individual game, only on the league champion at the end of the year. Irving High struggled last year and had gotten off to a slow start this year by the time Bill mastered the serum. When he went to ask about league championship odds after the fourth week, his bookie gave him 20-to-1 odds on Irving, even though there were only 10 teams in the league. He put all of the money he had been saving up -- a full $5,000 -- on the team. But he wasn’t betting on a bunch of high schoolers, he thought. He was betting on himself. Bill pulled one of his microwave dinners out of the freezer and began to heat it up. If he could only win this bet, he thought, he would never have to eat this crap again. The payout would be big enough that he could rent a spacious apartment with a full kitchen, and he could stock up on fresh groceries. He thought back to the meals he used to cook for Linda, before she kicked him out of the house. Suddenly, his attention was grabbed by a hard knock on the door that shook the entire trailer. “Open up, Bill. I know you’re in there.” It was Dave, the owner of the trailer park. “Be right there.” Bill shouted. He walked over to the door and opened it a crack, stopping it with his foot so Dave could see his face but not the entirety of his home. “What can I do you for, Dave?” “You know why I’m here, Bill. You’re three days late on the rent. I ought to kick you out of this park. Freeloading off all of these fine people who pay their rent on time, that’s what you’re doing.” “I know I know,” Bill gathered his thoughts. “Look, I don’t have it this month. But I’ve got some money coming in soon, and next month I’ll pay you double, plus interest. I might even have enough to leave this godforsaken trailer park.” “That’s no way to talk about a park to it’s owner, especially one who’s letting you live rent free. If you don’t have the money to me by the first of next month, plus a 5% late fee, I’ll tow your piece of shit trailer out of the park myself. You consider this a warning.” “Thanks, Dave. I’ll have the money. Don’t you worry.” ***************** “FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!” The chorus of teammates chanting together echoed off the weight room’s concrete ceiling as Cody completed his set on the squat machine. He slammed the bar back into place on the rack and then walked away from the machine, flexing his arms as his teammates cheered him. He had just done 10 reps of 405. Last week, he could only do six reps at that weight, and the week before, just two. “Dude, you’re killing it,” Steve said to Cody as he rejoined his group of friends. “Since when can you squat that much?” “Since this month, I guess.” Cody grabbed his legs to feel his quad muscles. They had grown larger and more firm in the last few weeks, he thought, just like his arms. “But I’m not the only one hitting a new max. Look at Frankie.” The boys looked over as Frankie, a stout junior who played center, put another plate on each side of the squat rack. A crowd gathered around him. “He’s about to squat 495. Holy shit.” Cody looked at Steve with his eyebrows raised as Frankie strutted around to the front of the squat rack. He bent his knees as he pulled his head under, placed his hands evenly on the bar, pushed it up with his shoulders and began to squat. The mob of teammates around him cheered even louder as Frankie reached his sixth rep. Veins bulged out of the boy’s forehead as he forced up a seventh. Cody was surprised he made it that far and his jaw dropped as he saw Frankie going down for one more. The voices urging him on grew louder and louder, screaming his name as Frankie bent his knees to his lowest point. “AAAHHH” Frankie shouted in pain as he collapsed onto the ground, the weights falling out of his hands and slamming onto the safety bars. His teammates’ cheering stopped suddenly as they crowded around him asking if he was all right. Frankie cursed as he held his knee. “Get the trainer! NOW!” ******************* Three weeks later, Cody could barely fit into his clothing. His skin-tight compression shorts felt like they might rip as he pulled them on and began to get dressed for the big game. “You’re looking huge, kid.” His coach patted on the back of his muscular shoulders. “How do you feel?” “Fine. I mean, good. I’m ready to go.” “You better be. This is the biggest game of your life, son.” He was usually one of the first to start getting ready, but his teammates had arrived early today. They each sat in front of their lockers, headphones on and not talking to each other as they went through their early preparation for the game. All except Frankie. He sat on a bench in jeans and his varsity jacket, with his two crutches leaned up against the wall next to him. He hadn’t played since the accident. As he looked around at his teammates, Cody wondered if they felt as anxious as he did. He always felt a little nervous before games, but this one felt different. It was the league championship game, and he felt like all the pressure was on him. His team’s winning streak had come from Cody running over people with a strength he never had before. He used to be a quick running back and would cut in between the tacklers, but now as he grew stronger and more aggressive, Cody ran straight through and over the defenders. As he thought about some of his harder hits, he felt not pride but fear. He didn’t feel like himself anymore. He didn’t know what his body was capable of doing. Even if his teammates were as anxious as he was, he knew none of them would say a word about it. They would nod their heads to their own pump-up music, slap each other on the ass, shout each other’s names and describe just how hard they intended to hit the opposing players. “You good, man?” Steve said as he sat down on the bench next to Cody. “Yeah I’m good. It just feels weird. I never thought we’d make it this far.” “It’s been a crazy run, and it’s all because of you, bro.” Steve patted him on the back. “You gonna run over some more losers today?” “You know it.” The boys pounded knuckles as Steve walked away from Cody’s locker. ******************************* “You’re in for a good one today, folks,” the announcer’s voice boomed from the press box. “We’ve got defending champion Monroe High School looking to hold onto their crown against the comeback kids at Irving High. After an 0-4 start to the season, Irving has won a miraculous seven straight games, vaulting them into the league championship.” The press box sat atop the metal bleachers, and next to the right side of the bleachers stood Bill Hamlin. Standing alone with his arms crossed and sunglasses on, he scanned the packed crowed of excited faces. He saw students and parents he recognized, and just as his focus reached the side gate, he saw the one person he hoped wouldn’t make it. His bookie. The man in the leather jacket nodded at Bill and began to walk toward him. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans as the man approached. “Tony, how you doing?” Bill said with fake friendliness in his voice as he reached out to shake his bookie’s hand. “I didn’t know you were coming to the game.” “After that bet you placed, how could I miss it?” Tony said. “Say, how’d you know those Irving kids were gonna turn it around?” Bill looked around, scared that someone might overhear their conversation. But a steady roar came from the crowd of talking fans, and Tony had gotten close enough that he could practically whisper. “No reason. Just a hunch.” “A hunch, right. Well look, I’ve got a proposition for you,” Tony lowered his voice. "I’ll let you hedge your bet. Put some money down on Monroe. That way no matter who wins, you win something. And you’re not at risk of losing everything.” He considered the offer. If he hedged his bet, then either way he could win enough to pay the rent he owed. But if he won the whole thing, as he had planned from the beginning, he could start over. He could move into a nice apartment where he could invite people over and cook for them. He would just need Irving to win. Looking over at the field, he saw the team lined up to stretch. Their muscles bulged out of their jerseys as they reached down to touch their toes. They were stronger than the other team. He knew it. He had made it so. “No thanks, Tony. I’m all in on Irving.” **************** “That’s a timeout by Irving High. We’ve got a close one here folks. It’s 24-20, Monroe on top, 20 seconds left in the game. Irving has the ball at their own 35 yard line. They need a touchdown or it’s all over.” Cody could hear the announcer as he jogged toward the sideline where the team huddled around the coach. He tried to slow his breathing, but it had been a long game, and he was exhausted. Someone tossed him a water bottle and he squirted it into his mouth as he tried to hear what his coach was saying. The noise from the crowd made it difficult. “Can you here me Cody?” “Yes. Yes Coach.” “I said we’re calling your play! 28 Toss Crack. Take it to the outside, the blockers will clear the way, and you’ll only have one man between you and the end zone. You got it?” “I got it, coach.” The whistle blew and they ran back onto the field, lining up in formation. Cody stood behind the quarterback with his hands on his bent knees. He snuck a quick peek over to the right side of the field to see where the defenders lined up. “Red 28! Red 28! Set! Hike!” The quarterback received the snap and tossed it backward to Cody, who sprinted to his right. His blockers pulled out in front of him as he looked to turn up field. The linemen made their blocks with ease, sending the defenders falling backwards as Cody burst through the gap. When he emerged, he saw only the safety between him and the end zone. He barreled toward the safety and saw his eyes widen as he approached. Cody thought about trying to run him over but decided against it. This was his play. He was going to do it his way. He took a firm step to the right and saw the safety plant his foot, then he shifted all of his weight in the opposite direction and exploded to the left. The safety fell backwards as he tried to recover and Cody danced into the end zone, untouched. The crowd erupted as Cody turned around, threw the ball into the air, let out his loudest scream and raised his arms to embrace his jumping teammates. Next to the bleachers, Bill Hamlin pumped his fists and shouted: “YES! We did it!” Tony, without saying a word, handed Bill a thick envelope and walked away. Bill slipped it into his jacket and turned to exit the stadium. As he walked to his car, he felt euphoria. He couldn’t believe how easy it been. He could now escape from the trailer park and rent a fancy apartment. But then a thought occurred to him: what if he could buy one? What if this scheme could work on another level with even higher stakes, where he could win even more money? He pulled out his phone and began to type into the search engine: “college football team cook jobs.