Dad's Old Number

Chapter One

As much as you'd like to think you can take the marine out of Afghanistan, you can't take Afghanistan out of the marine.  I spent a little over three years stationed. I didn't always want to serve, but it ran in the family. It was in our blood. 

My father, William Matthews, is the town Sherriff... or he was. He dedicated his life to the people of Dayton. With only a few thousand folks in our little town, it became easy to get to know one another. Everyone knew and loved my father. They practically worshipped the man and expected that I'd follow in his footsteps. He served for eight years in the US Navy, and then returned home to marry my mother and serve as the town's Sherriff; a position he held for nearly twenty-five years. 

I sat looking at a wooden casket, however, my mind was elsewhere. I remember getting off the plane just four months ago, racing through the security gate, and running into my father's arms. He hugged me as if it were the last hug he'd ever give me. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he whispered in my ear, "It's good to have you home, Cole." 

My mind raced through memory after memory. Driving down the road at dawn in his old, blue '79 Chevy Silverado to go fishing, or going to summer rodeos, the Sunday Night Football games where we'd cheer on the Titans, and even playing the guitar together in the living room. Suddenly it didn't matter if Ryan Tannehill scored a touchdown, or if I caught the biggest bass I'd ever reeled in before. Most things in life didn't matter any longer because he wasn't here to celebrate them with me. 

Whenever something bad happened in town, he was the one to call. Obviously, because you usually call the Sherriff when you're in danger. He was everyone's lifeline. Since he's been gone, the town has replaced him and another serves in his place. However, for me, he was that lifeline that now will never be answered. 

Like I mentioned, he married my mom, Amy, soon after the return of his service in the Navy. The two were high school sweethearts. I had never seen anyone love someone as much as my father loved my mom. The kind of love that lasts forever. Whenever talking about my mother, he used reverent hushed tones and only words of utmost respect. To the world, my mom was just another girl, but to him, she was his whole world. I dreamed of one day finding a love for myself similar to the one they shared.  

The day after my dad's funeral, my mom skipped town. She packed her bag and left, leaving only a note on the fridge for me to find the next morning. 

Cole, I love you, my sweet boy. Don't ever forget that. -Mom

It was at that moment that I truly was alone. It's been about three months since his passing and I realized I had finally hit rock bottom when I woke up one morning to a knock at the door. My head killed, and a raging sharp pain shot across my skull. I rubbed my temples as I walked to see who could possibly be here to see me on a Saturday morning so early. 

I opened the screen door and saw a little boy in a football jersey, with a baseball cap on backward, holding a catalog. The kid couldn't have been more than ten or eleven years old. "Good morning sir! My name is Connor. Would you be interested in buying some cookie dough to help me earn money for football camp this summer?" 

In my hand, I had a half-drunk bottle of Budweiser and I took a swig before answering. "What kind of cookies you got?" 

"Well there's chocolate chip, and snickerdoodle, and peanut butter, and-"

"Here kid, sit with me while I take a look-see at these cookies." We sat together on the front porch step and I took his catalog pretending to flip through the pages. "Which one's your favorite?"

"Oh, these cookies are awful! My mom makes the best cookies in the world." He smiled not realizing he wasn't helping his cause. 

"The best cookies in the world huh? Where can I get some of those?" I asked, taking another swig wishing I had a fresh cold one. 

"She's not selling them. But she makes them on Sunday mornings before church. You could come sometime and try one?" 

"Church huh? Yeah, that's not really my thing nowadays." My head continued to pound as I felt the hot sun burning my face. I looked down at my watch to see that it was already eleven. "You got anyone helping you sell these cookies?"

"No, my dad says I gotta earn my way into football camp this summer. I wanna be the first-string quarterback in the fall," he sighed, "but football camp is so expensive." 

"Well, how much is it?" I asked. 

"Nine hundred dollars." 

"Woah pal, that's a lot of cookies you gotta sell." I felt for the kid, but what can I say I've got a soft side. "Here's what I'll do for you. Give me $100 worth of cookies, and I'll take you to some ladies who are suckers for a cute kid in a uniform." I winked and he jumped right off the porch step. 

"REALLY MISTER? THANK YOU! THANK YOU!" He suddenly started dancing across the grass and threw the catalog in the air celebrating. 

I couldn't help but laugh, "Hey pal! Save that for the ladies. They'll need help deciding which cookies to choose from. 

I grew up playing football and fundraisers were my thing. I was always the one to win the grand prize, sell the most, and win over all the grandmas with my southern boy charm. No matter what their age, the ladies always loved me.

"Alrighty kid, I'll make a few calls and we'll have you selling more cookies than your entire team combined." I took one last swig to finish off the bottle. "Give me the catalog and tomorrow I'll have sold more cookies than your little heart can dream of selling." 

He looked like he was going to cry as he jumped and wrapped his arms around my neck hugging me. "Thank you so much, sir! What's your name again." 

"I'm Cole." I smiled grabbing the catalog from him, "You know, I played quarterback growing up too. It's a fun position. I could help you with your throw sometime?" I didn't know why I was offering to help the kid, I had never met him before and it wasn't like I was searching for some charity case. 

"Really? You mean it?" He looked like I had just told him I'd bought him his own stadium. 

"Yeah, I mean why not? Come on over tomorrow and we'll play a little." 

"Okay! You got it, Cole! I better get home or my mama will start to worry." He started running down the street, "See your tomorrow!" he yelled waving. 

I laid on the porch rubbing my temple wishing my headache would just go away. I sat wondering what had just happened and what had I signed myself up for?