Playing by Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

for inspiration. He directed the path of my life. Of that I was sure. So was there some greater purpose for me here in Dunn? Something bigger than myself or my mother?
    Ma would have said God had more important things to think of—like those in harm’s way in Europe. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that He cared about kids like Blaze, too. Kids seeking to find where they fit in life, a reason for their existence.
    Not that that reason was basketball, of course. Or any athletic endeavor. But so much could be taught—and learned—through the discipline of the game. I glanced at my wristwatch. Still a few minutes before classes commenced. Maybe I should chat with Principal Gray. We hadn’t had a private conversation for a couple of weeks.
    No one was sitting behind the reception desk, so I proceeded straight toward the principal’s office and poked my head in.
    Principal Gray grinned. “Come on in, Chet.” We shook hands, then he clapped me on the back. “How are your classes going?”
    I slid into the chair opposite his wide desk, then leaned back and rested my left foot on my right knee. “Still trying to settle the kids down after a summer running free.”
    â€œThankfully, we have this blast of cooler air today. I always found it easier to teach without sweat rolling down my face.”
    â€œOr my back.” A companionable silence settled between us. I liked that about Ronald Gray. He didn’t need to hear his own voice. He listened. Much like Mr. Slicer had in my boyhood days, Principal Gray filled a fatherly role in my life.
    â€œI guess you heard I have to find a new music teacher.”
    I grinned. “So Blaze said. Any candidates?”
    â€œNot officially, though I heard a rumor of a possible applicant.” Principal Gray wiggled his eyebrows at me.
    My gut twisted.
    â€œDon’t worry, son. No one has designs on you at the moment.”
    â€œRight.” I couldn’t keep the cynicism from coating my response. He didn’t see the artillery pointed in my direction every week at church. Perhaps I ought to switch to the Methodist congregation, where he attended. Maybe the women were more settled there.
    Principal Gray chuckled. “I wouldn’t be too concerned. From what I’ve heard, you’ve become quite an expert at dodging women with matrimonial intentions.”
    I shuddered at the remembrance of the previous music teacher’s thrice daily jaunts from the music room at the west end of the basement to my east-side, second-floor math classroom. Much like Fanny Albright’s visits to my basketball practices last season. Or Janet Conway, the domestic science teacher before Bitsy Greenwood, who arrived with hot cookies during lunch hour and always served me first. Those actions couldn’t be disguised as anything but interest. Interest I did my best to kindly discourage.
    Principal Gray leaned forward, a bit of a twinkle in his aging eyes. “One day you’ll see a woman you won’t want to run from.”
    I started to protest, then remembered a pair of intriguing dark eyes and thought better of it. Thankfully, Principal Gray had moved on.
    â€œWhat are the prospects for our Bulldogs basketball team this year?”
    The tension of matrimonial talk ebbed into the comfort of athletics. “We should be in good shape. Blaze is back, along with Clem, Virgil, and Glen. Four strong seniors and some underclassmen who came along nicely last year. Of course, it would helpto have a legitimate gymnasium instead of that cracker box out there.” I nodded toward the rear of the building.
    Principal Gray sighed, rubbed his forehead. “Oklahoma University’s gymnasium isn’t much better than ours. And with the war effort . . .”
    â€œI know. Yet some of the surrounding high schools have managed to get nicer facilities.”
    He nodded. “If we could just come up with a way to persuade