During first period, I was called to Mr. Palm’s office and found him and Caryn waiting for me with a younger man.
“David, this is Chad Lutz from the Make-A-Wish foundation. Mr. Palm suggested that we all get together to plan Saturday’s visit,” Caryn explained.
“I wanted to say that we at Lincoln High will do whatever it takes to help with this,” Mr. Palm said.
“Great. Let me give you a little background, and then we’ll talk about the child David’s hosting. The concept for Make-A-Wish began in Austin, Texas, in 1980. A seven-year-old young man with leukemia wanted to be a police officer so he could ‘catch bad guys.’
“The wish was granted, but the young man’s mother was fearful that he might not be able to hang on much longer. They ordered a helicopter to take the family to Austin to give him his wish,” Chad said.
He held up a photo of a boy in a full police uniform. The child looked so happy, and the gear looked real. I could see how fulfilling a child’s wish would be powerful stuff.
“He was only seven years and 269 days old when he died,” Chad said as he got emotional.
That got to us. I saw a tear run down Caryn’s cheek, and I don’t think Mr. Palm and I were far behind her as we thought about the poor boy and his family. I would be devastated if anything happened to any of the little ones in my family. This started to feel all too personal.
“Wishes make life better for terminally ill children. That’s our mission. We’ve granted over 300,000 wishes, and we think it has made a difference in over a million people’s lives. I want to thank you for agreeing to grant a young man’s wish.”
“How could I not?” I asked rhetorically.
“Well, sometimes it’s not easy. Athletes especially sometimes don’t want to be reminded of their mortality. I will guarantee you that this experience will affect you. I just want you to be prepared.”
“David’s mom had cancer, and they set up a charity to assist families of cancer victims. I expect he’ll be fine,” Caryn assured Chad.
“Good. I take it your mom is okay?”
“She is.”
“We had a local boy ask to spend a day with you. Wyatt is eleven years old and has a congenital heart defect, and his wish is to be a quarterback. He lives in Washington, and his parents felt that since your game was there this weekend, it would be easier on him. Wyatt has two sisters who are nine and seven and who are every bit as excited to meet you as he is.
“We’d like to arrange for you to meet Wyatt before the game and spend some time with him. If possible, we want to document the meeting and Wyatt’s experience,” Chad said.
“We happen to have a film crew doing a documentary on Lincoln High’s football team. We can ask them to film it for you,” Mr. Palm suggested.
“I’m sure Jeff would love to help,” I suggested.
“Do you have anything specific you want us to do?” Caryn asked.
“Typically, the host will donate a jersey,” Chad said. “Other than that, we play it by ear. It’ll depend on your schedule for game day.”
“Let me have Wyatt’s mom’s information, and I’ll coordinate with David and the school. I’m sure we can make Wyatt’s day special. We should involve his whole family,” Caryn suggested.
“I’ll talk to Coach Hope and see what kind of access he’s comfortable with Wyatt having with the team. Sometimes the conversations in the locker room jump the rail and wouldn’t be appropriate for an eleven-year-old,” I worried.
“They’d better not,” Mr. Palm said, unable to help himself.
I resisted my urge to give him ‘the look.’ I think he realized what he’d said, and the tips of his ears got pink. Everyone ignored his outburst.
◊◊◊
After football practice, Chuck drove us to the dojo. I had a big towel wrapped around a surprise. Of course, Cassidy had to see what I had. She took hers and put it on. I pulled out my phone and selected mariachi music. Chuck couldn’t keep from laughing at the two of us.
“What are you two doing?” Shiggy said, rushing over.
We had on our Mexican wrestling masks. I growled and beat my chest, which made Cassidy giggle.
“Carry on,” Shiggy said with a smile.
His beginners class came over, and he had them sit on the side.
It looked like Cassidy must have watched as much wrestling as I had as a child. I played the villain and tossed her around, hamming it up. The class booed me as I picked on the poor little girl. I held Cassidy over my head to finish her off, while she wiggled and begged me. Then Chuck changed the music to the Rocky theme.
Cassidy perked up, and her strength began to come back. The class cheered. I put her down and acted scared. I got on my knees and put my hands together to beg. Cassidy strutted around and then began to abuse me. I thought wrestling was fake! Cassidy finally pinned me. It was either that, or she planned to kill me, so I took the coward’s way out.
When we were done, the beginners clapped for Cassidy, and Shiggy took our masks away.
“Do you guys always goof around?” Chuck asked.
“It would seem my new security guy thinks he’s tough,” I observed.
