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his father, before adding,
“We must leave for the field immediately, because we’ve been invited to join
Senator and Mrs. Gates for a tailgate lunch.”
    Fletcher’s
father raised an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, Senator Gates is a
Democrat,” he said with mock disdain.
    “And
a former Hotchkiss football captain,” said Fletcher. “His son Jimmy and I are
in the same class, and he’s my best friend, so Mom had better sit next to the
senator, and if you don’t feel up to it, Dad, you can sit on the other side of
the field with the Tail supporters.”
    “No,
I think I’ll put up with the senator.
    It
will be so rewarding to be seated next to him when Tail scores the winning
touchdown.”
    It
was a clear autumnal day and the three of them strolled through a golden carpet
of leaves all the way to the field. Ruth tried to take her son’s hand, but
Fletcher stood just far enough away to make it impossible. Long before they
reached the field, they could hear the cheers erupting from the pre-game rally.
    Fletcher
spotted Jimmy standing behind an Oldsmobile wagon, its open tailgate covered in
far more sumptuous food than anything he’d seen for the past two months. A tall
elegant man stepped forward. “Hello, I’m Harry Gates.” The senator thrust out
his politician’s hand to welcome Fletcher’s parents.
    Fletcher’s
father grasped the outstretched hand.
    “Good
afternoon, Senator, I’m Robert Davenport and this is my wife, Ruth.” “Call me
Harry.
    This
is Martha, my first wife.” Mrs. Gates stepped forward to welcome them both. “I
call her my first wife- well, it keeps her on her
toes.”
    “Would
you like a drink?” asked Martha, not laughing at a joke she had heard so many
times before.
    “It
had better be quick,” said the senator, checking his watch, “that is if we
still hope to eat before the kick-off. Let me serve you, Ruth, and we’ll let
your husband fend for himself. I can smell a Republican at a hundred paces.”
    “I’m
afraid it’s worse than that,” said Ruth.
    “Don’t
tell me he’s an old Bearcat, because I’m thinking of making that a capital
offense in this state.” Ruth nodded. “Then Fletcher, you’d better come and talk
to me because I intend to ignore your father.”
    Fletcher
was flattered by the invitation, and soon began grilling the senator on the
workings of the Connecticut legislature.
    “Andrew,”
said Ruth.
    “Fletcher, mother.”
    “Fletcher,
don’t you think the senator might like to talk about something other than
politics?”
    “No,
that’s fine by me, Ruth,” Harry assured her. “The voters rarely ask such
insightful questions, and I’m rather hoping it might rub off on Jimmy.”
    After
lunch had been cleared away they walked quickly across to the bleachers,
sitting down only moments before the game was due to begin. The seats were
better than any prep could have dreamed of, but then Senator Gates hadn’t
missed the Tail match since his own graduation. Fletcher couldn’t contain his
excitement as the clock on the score board edged toward two. He stared across
at the far stand, to be greeted with the enemy’s cries of, “Give me a , give me an A, give me a...” and fell in love.
    Nat’s
eyes remained on the face above the letter A.
    “Nat’s
the brightest boy in our class,” Tom told Nat’s father. Michael smiled.
    “Only
just,” said Nat a little defensively; “don’t forget I only beat Ralph Elliot by
one grade.”
    “I
wonder if he’s Max Elliot’s son?” said Nat’s father, almost to himself.
    “Who’s
Max Elliot?”
    “In
my business he’s what’s known as an unacceptable risk.” “Why?” asked Nat, but
his father didn’t expand on the bland statement, and was relieved when his son
was distracted by the cheerleaders, who had blue and white pom-poms attached to
their wrists and were; performing their ritual war dance.
    Nat’s
eyes settled on the second girl on the left, who seemed to be smiling up at
him,