Acts of Desperation(12)

His short, blond hair was spiked with ample amounts of gel, and he was clapping his hands and yelling at the boys to get in their positions. With a whistle positioned between his front teeth, he began blowing it every second like a drill sergeant to get the boys to move faster and faster. But, what really threw me was his patience with the other boys. If one of Will’s teammates needed guidance, he got down to their level and spoke to them. But, when it came to Will, he yelled in his face.

There was a small break, and the kids puttered around while the assistant coach set up the next drill. Four cones were lined up in a straight line, and all the boys waited behind the first one. Anders selected Will to show all the other kids how the drill was supposed to be done. It was Will’s opportunity to shine and to make his dad proud. He stood tall and smiled up at Anders then started off strong. He kicked the ball perfectly, zigzagging it flawlessly between the first three cones, but on the fourth, he kicked it too hard, and it went off course. The piercing shrill of his whistle cut through the complex loud enough to make your ears bleed. “Come on! Focus, Will! You’re not focusing! What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m trying, Daddy,” he said. His cheeks were a fiery red, no doubt from a combination of both exertion and embarrassment.

“Damn it! You’re not trying hard enough! Go! Go! GO!” he said, clapping his hands. I took note of the shocked expressions from other parents on the neighboring bleachers as they whispered into each other’s ears, not-so-discretely judging him.

I said, “Geez, how can he yell at him like that? Will looks like he’s going to lose it.”

Sarah shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “I guarantee he’ll be crying later when we get home. Anders is always hoarse by the end of the session because he yells so much. What’s worse is Will hates that Anders is his coach, but I can’t do anything about it. I’m helpless against this issue.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “By the way, how are you feeling about the John thing? You look pretty good.”

“Thanks. It is what it is, you know?” I said. “Liz and I talked it out, and I’m where I’m supposed to be. And, we did have a lot of fun this weekend so that helped.”

She laughed. “I knew you would,” she said, and stared blankly out onto the field.

“So, how’s therapy going for you and the kids?” I asked.

“As good as it can I guess. They’re teaching us ways to deal with a narcissist,” she said with a slight roll of her eyes.

“I remember you calling him that before, after you saw Father Berger. He called him that too, right?” Sarah nodded her head. She’d sought help from various sources after she learned of Anders’s infidelity, trying to understand what was happening. She started at her church and learned the priest there actually counseled people in her position. I added, “I guess I don’t fully get what you’re talking about then because it sounds like you’re all just calling him a self-centered A-hole.”

Sarah laughed. “That’s what I thought too, but it’s been a lesson in psychiatry since the social worker said the same thing as Father Berger. Without getting too technical, Anders can’t think about anyone but himself. And everything he does is only to make himself look better. Like here.” She motioned her head toward the field. “He’s obsessed with Will being the best at soccer because it makes him look better as a coach, not because he wants Will to have fun playing the game. He has no idea how much he’s hurting Will’s feelings when he yells at him like that—he’s completely oblivious.” She sighed. “He craves all this attention and feeds off of it.”

“That’s really sad,” I said.

“It is, and the kids and I take all the abuse. It sucks, but at least I can identify what he’s doing now where I never saw it before and try to do damage control. You know, I’ve been looking back at our entire relationship, and I’ve been seeing everything in a whole new light. The big, flashy jewelry purchases, the expensive purses, my car…even his proposal on the plane over the loud speaker—all of it was about him, not me. It was just a big show.” She shrugged her shoulders again. “All we can do is live, knowing what he is because it’s not like I can use it against him in court. I’d have to do that psyche evaluation thing and those are expensive. No first grade teacher can afford that, so I’m out of luck.” She was interrupted by another mom walking across the bleachers. They said a quick hello then she turned back to me. “I am glad the social worker recommended counseling though—I never would have thought to do this on my own.”

“So it’s been helpful, then?” I asked.

“A little. They’re teaching us coping skills, which is just a fancy term for teaching us how to deal with his bull.”

“Knowledge is power, right?” I smirked.

“Yeah…right.”

I looked out on to the field as Anders continued to yell and blow his whistle. Will had sweat dripping off his face, and his silky brown hair was plastered to his forehead.

“Man, Will’s a powerhouse out there. I can’t see very many seven year olds that play soccer as well as he does. But geez Anders is pretty relentless,” I said.

“Well, he’s gotta push him hard, right?” Sarah laughed uneasily. “Failure isn’t an option.” Then she leaned in closer, “You know at Sam’s lollipop game last week he said, ‘Let’s face it, Sam just doesn’t have the skills that Will has, he sucks. He’s got no talent. We should put him in ballet so he can tiptoe around with the other girls.’ Then, he threw his hands up and stormed off. I was speechless.” I sat with my mouth hanging open, speechless as well. I hated hearing stories like that.