Stopping for "As"

"Hey coach, can we stop off to go to the bathroom? I think James is gonna piss his pants."

I was never crazy about driving the bus. As a first year basketball coach in small-town Texas, I was expected to run the show, which apparently included janitorial and transportation duties as well. We had just played our worst game of the year, and now we had just embarked on the brutal two-hour road trip from Wichita Falls back home.

I was driving good ol' bus number 34, which is the same bus our team had been assigned all season. She wasn't new, but she got the job done. The headlights peered through a thick Texas midnight as we headed East on Route 287. The games had run longer than expected due to two overtime losses, so everyone was a little cranky.

"Tell James to hang in there. I'm sure we'll hit a rest stop before long. If he can't make it, tell him to hang it out the window." After I had a second to reconsider, I added, "On second thought, why don't you skip the second part. Knowing James, he would be more than happy to hang it out the window."

The silent rhythm of the broken white lines on the pavement lulled me in a hypnotic, semi-conscious daze. I had to find a place to pull over soon or some poor farmer might wake up tomorrow to find a bright yellow school bus planted next to his corn.

"Hey coach, there's a place! Right up there on the right!" James yelled from the back of the bus. "Thank God!"

In the distance, one lonely street light managed to fight off the darkness just long enough to illuminate two seemingly deserted buildings. As I pulled closer, I noticed the burned out neon sign on the far building that said "XXX." A West Texas dust had settled into the cracks of the cement block structure. The roof had been partially blown off, and had been left to rot in a sweltering Texas heat. A small dirt parking lot sat alone on an endless stretch of naked highway, and the crusty black potholes made it clear that business had not been booming in Nowhere, Texas.

The other building sat on the same dirt lot with two filthy windows casting an eerie glare onto a pair of old-fashioned gas pumps sitting out front. The pumps sat under a cracked wooden awning, which leaned just far enough to shade the one bit of neon that was still illuminated. The sign read "as," which was as close as we would get in this God-forsaken wasteland to "Gas." I took one final look in my rear view mirror to see James holding his crotch, writhing in pain. I decided that this beat up hole would have to do.

I eased off of the pavement and pulled to a stop between the two buildings. I had planned to make some sort of announcement to the team about remembering who they were representing, but honestly, it was late enough that I started to step out of the coach's role. I just wanted to go home and go to bed.

A bus load of boys eagerly exited and poured into the ramshackle station. After the last chattering voice faded into the night, I realized that I was the only person who had decided to stay behind. Eventually, my adult sense of responsibility took over and I decided to follow the kids in and make sure no one got hurt.

I stepped cautiously into the station and immediately noticed that the door had been ripped off its hinges, which gave the blowing dirt free entry into the hot innards of the small country store. Once inside, one blinking fluorescent bulb splashed its light unevenly on what was left of the black and white tile floor. I immediately knew that I had made a terrible mistake.

All the boys were huddled around a display case near the front register. Even though I was a rookie, I knew enough to recognize uncomfortable laughter and what it means. I bolted for the cluster of boys and pushed my way to the front of the small gathering to see a massive collection of dusty pornography. Even though none of the boys could actually view the videos, the pictures on the front covers were more than most of these sheltered suburban boys had seen in their short lifetimes. At age 24, I could see my career flashing before my eyes. How could I possibly explain this to the overprotective parents of Carroll High?

So I did what any rational adult would have done. I guarded the porn. I felt like a bouncer in a cheesy backwoods night club, standing there with arms folded, a feigned look of disgust on my face. I was trying everything in my power to avoid breaking into hysterical laughter, which was even more difficult when some of the boys sauntered by with their own rationale for how these videos could add a whole new dimension to our weekly film study.

From the back of the store, the warped bathroom door flung open, and James, looking both disgusted and relieved, made his way to the main exit. "I think I woulda' been better off if I had just peed on the bus. I'm pretty sure something died in that bathroom."

On his way out, he noticed that I had taken a post in front of the porn and chuckled as he put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, coach. Your dirty little secret's safe with us." He patted me on the back and started out, when he glanced back and added, "I don't know if ol' Jesus likes it, though."

Puzzled, I took a step forward and looked up to notice an elaborate tapestry depicting Jesus and his disciples at the Last Supper. The artwork hung directly over the stacks of pornography, serving as a much better sentry than I ever could have been. The delicate needlework appeared to be sewn into some sort of thick brown burlap, which had faded over time to create a hopelessly bland image. Jesus appeared to be casting His eyes down in shame as He stood witness to the yet another stain on the human spirit. His profound disappointment was never more poignant to me than it was at that moment. The absurdity of such a contrast made the scene almost comical, but the image branded itself on my soul, and left me mesmerized.

As I turned to leave, an old man appeared behind the counter and spoke up through a raspy, toothless lisp. "Hey buddy, can I help you with somethin'?"

Startled, I managed a polite smile. "No sir. I believe I'm OK now." Quietly, I stepped out into darkness.