Hope
.
Things happened fast after the new update from the Police.
It was Becky, Kling and Christine Sinclair who started it. Becky had kindly asked to borrow Christen’s laptop. The three huddled around it at the kitchen table, murmuring quietly as they looked at the screen.
Rachel Corsie and Amy Rodriguez were now there, sitting on either side of Christen, searching to find words to comfort her. It was quiet. What could be said to make any of this better?
Christen looked around the room, noticing that Kelley wasn’t here.
“Where’s Kelley?” Christen had asked Amy.
Amy frowned, “She said she couldn’t be here,” she explained, “said it was too hard.”
Christen sniffed and nodded. Ever since the Challenge Cup, Kelley had changed. She had taken much abuse from fans, teammates and other players around the league for her decision not to kneel during the National Anthem. Christen recalled again the countless meetings they had while the team was in the bubble, explaining what systemic racism was, what defunding the police truly meant. What white privilege was and how to recognize it.
Kelley said all the right things and was sympathetic to her teammates, yet it never seemed genuine to Christen. She most likely never read the books they recommended and she
didn’t use her platform very much to speak out on the subject.
Their Royals teammates were perplexed but Christen and Tobin and some of the other players on the National Team felt they knew the real reason. Back when they were playing on the youth national teams, they spent much time talking and Christen remembered very clearly the incident when Kelley spoke about her proud family history.
”Oh yeah,” Kelley said, popping another Skittle in her mouth, “my Mom is a member of the Daughter’s of the Revolution,” she said proudly, “we’re FFG.”
“What’s FFG?” Tobin had asked from her position on the floor. Tobin’s family came from England in the 1670’s and grew wealthy being iron workers. They had capitalized on their fortune during the Industrial Revolution and had since guided and built that wealth in construction. Tobin came from decent money, but you’d never expect it from her. Christen liked that about her, she never flashed the obvious money she had.
Most of the team were scattered about the room, piled on the two beds, the floor and any other available space.
“First Family of Georgia,” Kelley responded, “founding families,” she explained.
“Did your family farm or were they in business?” Alex had asked with interest.
“Oh, they had a bunch of farms,” Kelley responded, “lots of different crops and kept at it even after the Civil War,”
A light tension filled the room since Christen had just previously stated how her great-great-grandfather had been a slave on a farm in Georgia who fought for his freedom, moved to New York and became a businessman and land owner. Most of the team had no idea she was black, let alone her ancestors were slaves.
Oblivious to the furtive looks players were shooting at another, Kelley pressed on, “Yeah, some of my uncles and cousins do reenactments of the Battle of Brown’s Hill,” she nodded.
Thankfully, Lauren Cheney interrupted to explain the funny story of how her ancestors had inadvertently caused a flood in their little town and the whole city had to run for their lives. The group had gotten back to joking around, but how Kelley had spoken of her ancestors stuck with Christen. Even throughout college, when there were a few racial incidents the team had to deal with at Stanford, Kelley remained silent.
Over the years, Christen felt disheartened with how Kelley never seemed to realize the negative impact her pride of her ancestors had with people of color. Even some of her social media posts were questionable and sometimes Christen thought she was reading too much into things, but when Crystal Dunn called her asking what the hell Kelley was thinking about one particular post, she was reassured it wasn’t just her.
With how fans had recently turned against her and called her out for her behavior, Kelley had become quieter and a little bitter. Their friendship was certainly strained, yet she was a bit surprised for her not to show her support for Tobin. Especially since they didn’t know if she was dead or alive.
It hurt that Kelley wasn’t here. Her and Tobin were close.
Christen began to feel she would explode, she wanted to be alone, she wanted to just sit on the balcony and stare out at the sky.
Then Becky squatted down in front of her.
“Chris,” she had asked and Christen seeing how Becky’s eyes were red rimmed from her prior tears shed, “do you have Tobin’s phone on your iCloud?”
Yes, she had.
Becky’s eyes grew steely with determination when Christen handed over the device and she swiftly retreated back to the kitchen table. The room was relatively quiet while the women at the table worked.
Then it erupted.
“She could be out there,” Kling observed with shock.
“We should go look,” Christine advised with concern.
“Christen, come look at this,” Becky urged.
Christen’s feet dragged her to the table, her stomach lurching with nausea. Christine gave up her seat and stood behind her with her hands on her shoulders. A map was on the screen showing a satellite view of a heavily forested area with a twisting two lane road. Becky used the tip of a pen to point to a red circle on the middle of a road.
“That is where Tobin’s phone is coming up,” she stated. Then she pulled the view out and pointed to another red dot. “That is where the crash occurred.”
Christen could only look at the screen and then Becky, not comprehending what was happening.
“Meghan is on the phone with the detective right now,” Becky stated evenly.
“We’re going out to look,” Christine said from behind her and squeezed her shoulders gently. “She could be out there, if she jumped out of the car,”
That stuck. She moved to stand up, but Christine kept her seated with pressure on her shoulders. “You need to stay here,” she had instructed, “man the phones.”
She nodded. Parted of her wanted to go search. Needed to go search. Needed to do something resembling making an effort to find the truth. The other part of her was shutting down. Emotionally exhausted. Physically exhausted.
Reason dictated she needed to stay.
In silence Christen watched as the group assembled quickly formed a plan. Phone calls were made, messages relayed and then the soccer players were gone with only Becky and Kling remaining. The quiet was unnerving.
Christen studied the screen, the heavy foliage noted. It would be so dark out there. She had closed her eyes, trying to will Tobin to hear her, “Come back to me, my love,” she projected silently into the ether, “our story isn’t over yet, I need you. I love you.”
She left the table and returned to the couch and snuggled into the corner, needing to curl up. Her thoughts had wandered quickly to the possibilities of this new development.
Tobin might not be the one lying on a metal table in a cooler in the morgue.
Tobin could be lying dead on the roadside.
Tobin could be out there in the woods, wandering around injured.
Tobin could be alive.
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