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Hangdog - Shoulder to Shoulder

By Tylie Eaves

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CHAPTER ONE




“Susan … Leigh … McCarter.”
The voice echoed over the school auditorium sound system.
“Donald … James … McKie.”
Cheers and applause followed each name, but the voice at the microphone never wavered. It was monotonous. Formal. It was the same this year as it had been last year, and the year before that, and, frankly, about as far back as anyone could remember. Assistant Principal Harriet Reid had held the job long enough to read out the names of graduates who were children of graduates. But not for a single one would she ever intone an air of excitement. For all the enthusiasm she put into the job, she could have been a clerk calling names at the DMV instead of announcing the end of a high school career.
“Heather … Catherine … McKenzie.”
The crowd, on the other hand, was boisterous. There were cheers, screams and an occasional air-horn blast. The room was packed to the brim with parents, grandparents, friends, cousins, teachers and students. Every graduate was celebrated, with little pockets of family and friends popping up from the sea of faces to show special interest in their particular hero. Facebook was plastered with photos and well-wishes for new graduates and at least one-in-four selfies were cap-and-gown clad.
As unenthusiastic as she was, even Harriet Reid halted a moment before reading the next name. It was only the briefest of pauses, but she knew the next name on her list would signal a volcanic eruption of noise.
“Jonathan … Beau … McKnight.”
It wasn’t the first time Beau McKnight had heard that kind of noise. He had played football well enough to earn a college scholarship. The records he’d set as a tight end would stand for years. He’d also been the hard-blocking, slam-dunking center for the school’s basketball team and was, by all accounts, a local household name.
Without a doubt, Beau was the most dominating student personality at Jackson High, and he bounced up the stairs toward Principal Eric Raven with ever-typical enthusiasm. Raven was a man of medium build, and his dark suit and conservative tie were perfectly made for the formal occasion. Then again, his crisp dress shirts and small-knotted neckties were a staple scene at the school. It was hard to imagine him relaxing. You’d almost expect the man to don his nice shirt and tie if the Raven family spent a week at the beach.
The principal extended his hand toward Jonathan Beau McKnight. He’d already shaken the hands of half the senior class. Now, he used every ounce of his body language to signal to the huge man-child coming toward him that this was a moment for decorum.
Beau ignored the handshake. No amount of body language could shake his excitement or his intent.
He grabbed the principal around the waist, bear-hugged him until his feet left the floor, and grinned from ear to ear. Making it to the finish line of high school had been easy on the football field — but tough in the classroom. Beau was squeezing every moment out of the celebration, and it happened to be Raven who could solve his need to squeeze. He shook the man just for a moment, and then took him back to the floor.
While the principal straightened his glasses, Beau turned to the adoring crowd and threw his arms into the air. In the midst of the whoops and hollers and just before exiting the stage, he put the finishing touch on his public display of enthusiasm by lowering himself into a deep bow.
Harriett Reid held on to the podium, terrified that Beau might have a bear hug for her. But instead, he gallantly tipped his graduation cap as he passed her and then left the stage. Order was briefly restored.
"Samuel … Eli … McKnight."
In some ways, the celebration was as identical for Eli McKnight as it had been for his identical twin brother. But though they looked like mirror images, Eli was a far cry from Beau. Eli strolled across the stage and shook Principal Raven’s hand with all the decorum the man could desire and politely accepted his diploma. Because it was time for another name, only Eli’s family saw what came next.

~

It was only for a moment, just a brief pause. But Eli bowed his head, closed his eyes and silently gave thanks. Then he slipped off the stage into the waiting arms of his brother. The bear-hug on the auditorium floor looked a little like a battle between two giants. But it was no fight. There had been plenty of those over the years, yes. But this time, it was a pure brother-on-brother celebration. Eli threw an arm over his brother’s shoulder, and the two of them walked back to their seats and cheered through the parade of the remainder of their senior class. Had it not been for the honors collar over his graduation gown, a stranger might not have been able to tell Eli from Beau.
It was no wonder the pair stood out.
Tall, well-muscled, with straight-backed posture, they had broad shoulders and bright eyes. Their faces were clean-shaven, and their hair was cut short. Each had a strong, set jaw and appeared to be the kind of kid who never suffered from acne. They had gone through braces together as sophomores, and now had wide, perfectly-aligned, All-American smiles set between picture-perfect dimples. To say their features were chiseled would be an understatement. In the high school food chain, the McKnight brothers were standing proudly at the top.
In time, the list of graduates came down to a final name.
"Ivy … Catherine … Zellway."
The crowd cheered and the sea of students stirred restlessly in their seats upon hearing the familiar syllables of the final name on Raven’s list, the same final name that had been called at many of their corporate school functions for more than a decade. Eli watched in silence. She had taken his breath away a long time ago, long before this day, and she still held him speechless in every way a teenage giant could be held. For Eli, time slowed down as Ivy crossed the stage. She was petite and poised, like the lead character in some fantasy novel about fairies and elves. She politely shook Principal Raven’s hand, and, as she walked away, she reached for the tassel that dangled from her Dijon mustard-hued cap, stopped at center stage and turned to face her classmates.
Meanwhile, Beau readied himself for a much less refined moment. Even as Ivy was awarded the last diploma of the ceremony, he’d been reaching beneath his seat to grab the two rolls of cheap toilet paper he'd swiped from the boys’ restroom when he and his band of football brothers first arrived at the auditorium for the commencement-rehearsal walkthrough.
Principal Raven signaled for the group to stand together.
On Ivy’s perfectly executed cue, the entire graduating class simultaneously moved the tassels, dangling in anticipation, from right to left across their Dijon-colored mortarboards. Principal Raven leaned into the microphone and, as unenthused albeit as crisply as ever, announced, “Congratulations, class of 2011. You are now graduates.”
As if under electrical power, Dijon caps flew through the air in all directions. Silly string arched across the room from all angles, creating a multi-colored cargo net of pure, semi-solid, joy. Beau loosed his toilet paper rolls in high arcs, with all the finesse one would expect from a star athlete. And almost as if on his cue, several of his testosterone-riddled fellow graduates launched their own toilet paper assault on the room full of celebrating families and friends.
Ivy found her way off stage and made an elegant bee-line toward Eli. Her long, soft brown hair blew slightly behind her as she walked, and, as she moved, she struggled fruitlessly with her graduation cap. "I couldn't get my cap off!” she said to Eli, almost singing with laughter. “Lisa put enough bobby pins in my hair that I could probably wear this thing for the rest of my life if I wanted to.”
Eli reached up and worked his giant fingers against the grips of what felt like a nest of bobby pins, “Seriously?” he asked. “I’m the last person in this room who needs to be doing this.” Together, the two of them worked her free of the nest of bobby pins and the confines of her cap. Ivy rolled with laughter as Eli mocked his own ability to perform delicate tasks with his massive hands. “Let me just work this piece out, and you’ll be looking fierce,” he spoke in a high-pitched voice and laid on a heavy lisp. “Girl, you have got it go-ing-on.” He put his hand on his hip and snapped his fingers in a Z formation. He kept a straight face throughout his performance, which succeeded in catapulting Ivy into a fit of laughter so deep no sound came from her body and tears filled her almond-shaped eyes. Finally, her goofy hero released her from her hair-accessory prison and she began smoothing her hair with her hands. If Ivy was going to throw her cap in the air now, she’d have to go on a solo flight.
Standing next to the tower known as Eli, Ivy looked especially tiny. Something about her, though, made her appear larger than her physical size. She possessed true beauty — something that a pretty face and graceful physique alone could never create. Classic, elegant and truly magnetic, it was easy for anyone to see why Eli had been mesmerized for most of his high school career. The couple had attended the school’s Christmas Dance two years prior and had been an item ever since. She cheered him through everything he did, and he reciprocated; they were the “Brad and Angelina” of Jackson High, and everyone, from every clique, knew it. To no one’s surprise but their own, the yearbook had recently revealed that the pair had been chosen “Cutest Couple.”
Eli lifted one of his big arms and placed it ever so gently around her. He leaned in, pointing gallantly to his perfectly-dimpled cheek. Ivy gave him one quick peck, and he watched as her eyes darted cautiously around the room. She made a sharp “tsk” sound when she spotted Valerie McKnight, and then she said to her suitor, “I knew it. Your mom is right there."
"Are you kidding me?" Eli scoffed, laughing and feigning a wounded heart over the ever-so-brief peck on his cheek. “This is one of the biggest days of our lives, and that’s all I get?” He laughed to himself as Ivy gave him a girlish jab to the ribs. Eli waved to his parents and a crowd of other relatives who were carefully making their way down from the bleachers to the silly-string laden gym floor. Beau spotted their descent and pulled himself away from the toilet paper battle, hurling one final bomb before he ran his massive frame over to stand with his brother and Ivy. Together, they watched the group moving down the bleachers, in anticipation of the impending hug-fest once the family reached their chosen piece of real estate on the gym floor.
"Ivy, Honey … you can do better than that!"
Valerie’s accent dripped with sweet tea and buttered biscuits and every word rang on twice as long as it needed to. The way she approached every situation was so endearing that it was almost impossible to imagine she’d ever been angry in her life. She gave Ivy a wink after she spoke, making it obvious that she was referring to the ever so brief micro-kiss she’d witnessed moments before. She spread her slender arms wide and wiggled her perfectly manicured fingers in a not-so-subtle signal to her sons — hugs were now a mandate.
Ivy felt her cheeks get slightly hot, but her minor embarrassment dissolved as quickly as it started when Eli chuckled and squeezed her hand. Valerie McKnight had no daughters, and Ivy Zellway had been practically adopted by the woman ever since she’d been allowed to help pick her corsage for the Christmas Dance two years earlier. Ivy knew it, and Valerie didn’t hide it. Valerie turned her widespread arms to Beau and grabbed him around his big bear neck in an embrace reserved only for mothers and sons.
"You're choking the life out of me, Mom!” Beau gurgled.
Valerie let go of Beau’s neck and cupped his chiseled chin in her dainty, but oddly strong fingers, squeezing his cheeks together so his lips looked slightly fishlike. Her shoulder-length blonde hair bounced as she spouted playfully, “You’re never too big to get that tail whooped, you know!" Beau grabbed her around her deceptively delicate-looking waist and lifted her into the air for a moment. She squealed, “That’s more like it boy!” Because of her statuesque height and the heels that made her even taller, her trip back to the floor was brief. But as soon as her stilettos were back on solid ground, she turned toward Ivy and squealed again.
Eli took advantage of the interchange between the two to greet his father. His mother’s hugs were legendary for their choke-hold strength. He knew he’d soon get his turn. But for the moment, he was eye-to-eye with his father, whose expression made it clearly evident he had no intentions of trying to contain his pride or his enthusiasm.
Joseph McKnight, better known as Joe, shared his sons’ wide, perfect grins. And at this moment, Eli thought for sure every single one of the man’s thirty-two teeth were visible. Joe had never been stoic. He had always been forthright with his feelings, and his sons never wondered for a moment if there was love between them. He threw one of his large, calloused hands onto Eli’s shoulder. The other was outstretched, awaiting his son’s mirroring palm. Eli saw his dad’s eyes welling up with tears. “Don’t you do it old man.” They both laughed. Well, Joe laughed and cried at the same time, as their masculine handshake melded into a Colossus like embrace between a father and his son.
The moment ended when Valerie decided she’d waited long enough to strangle her other baby boy. The two parents swapped sons as seamlessly as they had for the last eighteen years. It was the perfect display of parental teamwork, which had become second nature over time.
"Move it or lose it, Val. It's my turn," Joe boomed, still in the midst of a laugh-cry.
Valerie lunged for Eli, who braced himself for a momentous, legendary, Valerie McKnight hug. He certainly wasn’t disappointed. She planted a good twenty to thirty mom-kisses on his smooth skin in short succession and squealed out her pride and adoration without fail.
A few steps away, Beau had managed to turn his own embrace with his father into a miniature wrestling match and had actually succeeded in lifting his equally-weighted elder off the floor a few inches. Joe grunted as the air expelled rapidly from his lungs, and Beau laughingly released him.
“I’m so, so proud of you both,” their beaming father said, loudly enough to be heard by the entire family tribe, as he stretched his arms out wide to place a hand on the shoulder of each son. “Today is a good day!”
The remaining members of the family buzzed around the boys like bees around a flowering bush. Nana McKnight left lipstick prints on every family member in sight, Aunt Kay cried… because Aunt Kay was a crier. Uncle Pete, known affectionately as “Sweet Pete” to friends and family, shocked no one with his ever-typical combination of inappropriate comments and lovability. Valerie’s little brother put his foot in his mouth so often, most people had simply come to expect it as the man’s daily modus operandi. Today’s auspicious occasion proved to be no exception. He was the only adult in the auditorium who was still shouting and whoo-wheeing at the top of his lungs, drawing glances from strangers all across the auditorium.
The group threw hugs as if it had been years since they’d seen one another, kisses as though they were tossing beads from a float at Mardi Gras, and the male majority engaged in the occasional fist bump or slap on the back in the moments when the deep levels of affection threatened their masculinity.

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