City That Never Sleeps

Buckeye Blues

Pink hue crept into the darkening blue sky over my childhood home. It wasn't an odd scene for a Michigan sunset, not at all. But on a day like today, it felt especially precious.

Jesus and I sat on our front porch as the snow settled on top of our heads, beers resting in our glove covered hands. Black gloves to match our outfits.

"I can't believe it," Jesus said, tears in his eyes.

I patted his back, trying to comfort him. "I know."

"I - I mean," he stuttered, "just like that?"

"Just like that . . ." I trailed off, watching my own breath move in the cold air.

My mouth still tasted of bitterness from our recent loss, one of my family's biggest nightmares. I drank from my bottle hoping to wash it out with a different bitterness - one to help me forget - one to help me feel better.

"All of us," he continued rambling "you, me, dad - we're all going to be the talk of our neighbors now, you know? This is all those vultures will talk about for the rest of time itself."

I held my stare straight ahead toward one of our oldest neighbor's, the Casertas, porch swing. Their blonde kids running around, the older sister chasing her younger brother with a big stick tauntingly.

"It's not their fault. This is big."

"I should probably explain," I told Renée and Anaïs. "At the end of 2005 after what me and your Uncle Marshall like to call The Pineapple Incident, I made one of the worst phone calls of my adult life. My mom, your grandma, had a stroke the night before.

"Almost immediately, without telling any of my friends or even work, I packed a few bags and took the next flight to the Grand Rapids airport. My mom pulled through, as you two can guess. She was discharged from the hospital about a week and a half after the stroke but the healing process had only just begun."

Anaïs, who had the same look on her face as whenever she attempted the crossword in the newspaper, interjected. "Wait but, if no one died, why were you guys so upset?"

"I'm getting to that.

"Amongst all the stress of, well, everything in life at the moment, there was always one stress reliever our family participated in every Saturday . . . Big Ten football. Ever since Uncle Jesus and I were little . . ."

Fall 1989

A young me and Jesus, stare at our TV in awe as our parents watch us from the kitchen. Our parents, a younger José and Lucile Navarro, share a look. This is just the beginning.

". . .every Saturday during football season . . ."

Fall 1996

A teenage me and Jesus stare at the TV in absolute glee. Once again U of M pulled through.

". . . we were glued to that TV in our living room and 'Ohio' became a curse word in our home. 2005 however, we lost again."

Fall 2005

Jesus let out a long sigh before standing up and stretching his hand out for me to take.