Christopher Lindstrom

He tosses and turns in bed.  His wife has been sleeping on the couch.  She loves him but she can’t help him and she needs her sleep, too.  His grief is unbearable.  Two days ago, he made the hardest decision of his life.  Two budding football stars in jail for a bunch of weeks, no Playstation, no snapchatting.  Where is the sense in the world, he wonders. He asks God, “Why do football players have to go to jail?’  God replies ‘yikes, man.’

His son ties his shoes while the judge makes oatmeal.

“Did they have to go to jail, daddy?”

“…Yes. I’m afraid they did.”  He reels at the loss in his son’s eyes.  Those poor eyes.  They look so troubled.  So betrayed.  Like his father convicted Santa Claus for jaywalking.  In a sense, that’s exactly what he did. 

“But the homecoming. Will they be able to play in the homecoming game?” One of the biggest games of the year against their rivals.  They will win like they always do but this year…this year the game might be closer.

“I’m really sorry.  They’ll be suspended for the homecoming.  Hopefully, they can come back for the playoffs but…”

“Okay daddy.”

He walks his son to the bus stop in silence.  He knew one day his son would have to witness the evils of the world.  He just thought there was more time.