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"Vice? Or versa? Is the lady attracted to you, but you're not attracted to her, or—"
"The other way around. I'm attracted to her, but she's not too crazy about me."
"That's hard for me to believe. I thought you football players could take your pick of women."
"You just try explainin' that to Miss Charmaine Dodd."
Phoebe adored hearing stories about people's love lives. Slipping off her loafers, she drew her legs beneath her. "Tell me about her. If you want to, that is."
"Well, she's a real stubborn lady. And stuck on herself. She's the organist at Mama's church, and the rest of the time she's a librarian. Shoot, she doesn't even dress right. Wears these prissy little skirts and blouses buttoned all the way up to her chin. Walks around with her nose in the air."
"But you like her anyway."
"Let's just say I can't seem to put her out of my mind. Unfortunately, the lady doesn't respect me in return because she's got a education, see, and I don't."
"You went to college."
For a moment he was silent. When he spoke, his tone was so quiet only she could hear him. "Do you know what college is like for somebody like me?"
"No, I don't."
"They take a kid like me, eighteen years old, never had much in life, and they say, 'Darnell, you play ball for us, and we'll take real good care of you. We'll give you a fine scholarship, and—You like cars, Darnell? 'Cause one of our alums got a big Chevy dealership, and he sure would like to give you a shiny new Corvette as a sign of his appreciation for choosing our fine university. We'll take good care of you, Darnell. We'll give you a high-payin' summer job, except—dig this—you won't even have to show up for work. And don't worry too much about your classes, 'cause we're gonna sign you up for some independent studies.' " He regarded her through the dark lenses of his sunglasses. "You know what independent study meant for somebody like me? It meant, I work my man over real good on Saturday afternoons, and I got an A when the grades came out."
He shrugged. "I never graduated, and now I got all kinds of money. But sometimes I think it don't matter. What good does money do when a lady like Charmaine Dodd starts talkin' to you 'bout some white dude wrote this famous poem she loves, and her eyes get all lit up, but you don't know jack about poetry, or literature, or anything else she thinks is important?"
Silence fell between them. Pooh had worked her muzzle into the crook of Darnell's neck and was snoring softly.
"What's stopping you from going back to school?"
"Me? Aw, no, I couldn't do that. Football takes up too much time."
"Maybe you could go during the off-season." She smiled. "Why don't you ask Miss Dodd what she thinks of the idea?"
"She'd laugh at me."
"If she laughs at you, then you've got the wrong woman for sure."
"I wasn't ever much of a student," he admitted with obvious reluctance.
"Probably because nobody expected you to be."
"I don't know."
"Come on, Darnell. You chicken?"
He glowered at her.
"Just kidding," she said hastily. "The fact that you're not a natural student could work to your advantage." She grinned. "You might have to request some private tutoring."
Darnell laughed, and half a dozen players swung their heads around to stare at him in disbelief.
Elvis Crenshaw stood up. "Hey, Darnell, you gonna hog that dog the whole trip? Pass it over. I like dogs, too."
Darnell scowled at him. "Why don't you go fuck—Er—"
The men hooted as Darnell ducked his head in embarrassment. And then their laughter abruptly snapped off.
Phoebe turned her head to determine what had caused the interruption and saw that Dan had entered the cabin. The men returned to their magazines and music, or closed their eyes and pretended to nap, acting as if they had been caught laughing at a funeral.
