Beyond the Point(16)
Just before the welcoming ceremony began, a tall blond woman had appeared beside Dani’s mother. She was beautiful, with a sharp chin, brilliant blue eyes, and a Southern accent as smooth as Dani had ever heard. Behind her, there were two blond girls that looked like twins and an older man with a graying mustache, wearing a burnt-orange University of Texas ball cap. The woman pointed at the aluminum bleachers and smiled.
“Can we slide in?”
“Of course!” Dani’s mother said. “Scoot down, Dani.”
“It’s so quiet,” the woman said to Dani’s mother as her family slid onto the row. “You’d think we’re at a funeral.”
Harper McNalley laughed out loud. “My funeral. Still can’t believe my baby is going to college. This college.”
“Is she your youngest?” the woman asked.
“No.” Dani’s mother pointed down the line to Dominic, who pushed his glasses up his nose. “Dominic will be a sophomore in high school this fall. Dani’s our oldest.”
“Oh, well then, you’ll still have one at home,” the woman said. “I’m about to have an empty nest.”
Soon, Harper and this woman were chatting like old friends. Dani sometimes hated the fact that her mother had never met a stranger. They could be standing in line at the grocery store, and before they’d checked out, Harper would have a list of prayer requests from the person in front of her and the one behind her. Dani, on the other hand, would have been content to stay quiet, waiting. It wasn’t like she would ever see these people again. Then again, she thought, there weren’t going to be that many other girls in the class of 2004.
Dani locked eyes with her new classmate, and together they rolled their eyes at their respective mothers. A beat passed as the two memorized each other’s faces. Without a doubt, she was a natural beauty: tall, with dirty-blond hair and dark blue eyes. Her face carried a carefree expression that would have filled the room with warmth, if they weren’t sitting outside. And most notably, she looked comfortable in her own skin, which seemed like a commendable feat of bravery to Dani, considering the faint sound of yelling coming from the other side of the stadium.
“We’re from Austin,” the girls’ mother said, answering Harper’s latest question. “I’m Lynn Speer. And that’s my husband down there with the mustache. Bill. Our daughter Emily, she goes to the University of Texas. And this is our daughter Hannah.”
The beautiful girl extended a long hand toward Dani. They shook and shared a sigh of anxiety.
“Do you play a sport?” Hannah’s mother asked. “Hannah’s here to play basketball.”
Dani’s eyebrows crunched together in shock. “Really? Me too.” What are the odds? She shifted forward excitedly on the bench. “What’s your position?”
“Post,” Hannah offered with a chuckle. “I actually thought I recognized you. Coach Jankovich sent me a newspaper article when you signed. You’re from Ohio, right?”
In the quiet moment that passed, all the plays they could run together moved through Dani’s mind. Hannah was so tall and Dani so short; there were a lot of ways they could maneuver around another team’s defense. They were going to be unstoppable! Dani was surprised to find that that little connection—that tiny, imperceptible moment of contact—had calmed her nerves. Though it was unspoken, Dani knew that she’d just made her first friend. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know much about this girl. They were going to be on the same basketball team, and that was enough.
“I need to get your phone number,” Harper McNalley said to Lynn Speer. “I have a feeling you and I might need a support group.”
She reached in her purse for a piece of paper and a pen, but before they could exchange information, a lone snare drum began to beat.
“Here we go,” said Dominic, pushing his glasses up his nose again. “The show begins.”
As a group of five cadets in uniform marched through a stadium tunnel and into the stands, the entire crowd went silent, listening to the sharp tap, tap, tap of their feet against the aluminum bleachers. All five cadets looked identical, stiff from the top of their hats to the bottom of their shoes. They wore starched white pants and crisp white overcoats, cinched at the waist by white belts with gold buckles. Suddenly, everyone in the stands seemed shabbily dressed by comparison. An officer in a navy uniform stepped forward to a microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen . . . friends and family. Welcome to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point.”
A collective sigh released from the crowd into the air as his voice echoed across the stadium, toward the reservoir. Then they all held their breath again.
“Today, you embark on the six-week journey known as Cadet Basic Training. CBT is rigorous and it is demanding. It will require every bit of personal fortitude, discipline, and determination you can muster. The people next to you—your family and friends—have helped you to get this far. But in just a few moments, you will say goodbye, and you will be going on alone.”
Someone sniffled. In her periphery, Dani saw Hannah’s father wipe his eyes. West Point’s first captain, a senior who held the highest rank in the Corps of Cadets, introduced the rest of the CBT leadership, called Cadre. There were a few more speeches. And then, the officer who had started it all walked back to the microphone.