Ty & Cinda, A Tale of Forbidden Love - S01 E24

Story 1 week ago

Ty & Cinda, A Tale of Forbidden Love - S01 E24

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 24

had asked Mom and Dad to accompany us to Louisiana for my visit to LSU. Mom especially was thrilled-she'd get to see Grandma once we had visited the campus. We walked out of the plane to see Monroe waiting just outside the security area. Cinda introduced him to Dad and Mom and while we were talking we heard another voice, "Hi, Todd."

Dad turned toward the voice. "Ty! I can't believe it! What are you doing here?"

"I guess Ty failed to mention...I'm an assistant at LSU now. It would be a real feather in my cap to bring Ty on board."

"Then I guess," I replied, "you should show us the campus." We stepped into a big van-big enough to handle all our bags in addition to the six of us. The driver took us directly to the Pete Maravich Assembly Center-the 13,000 seat arena where LSU plays its home games. I was really impressed to see "Welcome Ty" on the marquis. Coach Beamon took us on the tour, spending almost three hours trying to sell us on the university.

"I'm sure you realize, Coach that Cinda will be attending with me."

"Yes, Ty Monroe has told us. When he's not bragging about you he's bragging about her. I don't know if we can get a full scholarship for her-that's out of the Head Coach's authority-but assure you that we'll do what we can. Can you work out for us?"

"Of course, I have my stuff in my bag." Back to the van I retrieved my practice uniform-shirt, shorts, jock, socks and sneakers. You must have a trainer who can tape my ankles." Most of my teammates ignored this practice, but then they didn't have a 44- inch vertical leap either. Coming down from that high was stressful on my feet and ankles even though my feet were exceedingly strong. I had done it to myself as a freshman and sophomore, but Cinda wanted to learn and I was pretty sure she felt it was her contribution to my success. Now I sat on the training table while Coach Beamon told me what to expect. He wanted me to play one-on-one with a guard from their team and later, two-on-two. "No problem," told him.

Ten minutes later I walked onto one of the two practice gyms. It was a regulation sized court with only minimal seating. Cinda, Monroe, and my parents sat and watched while I warmed up, shooting and dribbling with both hands. My opponent introduced himself and I knew immediately that he was the star of the team. I'd have to play my best to do well.

I had to hand it to him he was an excellent player, but I beat him twice-15-11 and 15-6-by utilizing both hands equally well. I was able to block several of his shots so effectively that he had to resort to other less effective tricks. We might have been equals offensively, but my defense won the day. He clapped me on the back when we were done.

"Well done, Ty, you just beat our best player. Let's try two-on-two now." I met the other players on the court. I was paired with a forward who was about 6'7" and solidly built against my prior opponent and another big man. We used basic strategy-pick and roll and give and go very successfully. These are probably the oldest plays in basketball and they're still used effectively today. We won both games-15-12 and 15-9, I scored and passed well, but the highlight of both games was my defense. Coach Beamon was extremely pleased then I met the head coach who had watched everything from an office window. I was offered a scholarship on the spot. I told then that accepted. This was something Cinda and I had discussed for hours. She wanted me to be happy and I wanted the same for her. I realized that college in Baton Rouge, less than a hundred miles from her home would be perfect.

School started before we knew it-we were seniors at last! We had a new principal named James Henderson. He looked to be in his mid thirties and was very dynamic, something dear old Harold hadn't been for more than thirty years according to Dan who had known him for even longer. We were quite surprised one morning when he asked to see us. After welcoming us to his office and offering us seats he began what appeared to be informal remarks although I was certain he'd practiced at some length. "At first I thought you might be twins; imagine my surprise to learn you were married. May I ask how you met? I detect a southern accent, don't 1, Cinda?"

She began our saga, one that was well known to our friends and when she was done I chimed in, "And now you know, sir that I needed to be defended by a 100-pound woman."

Cinda laughed and so did he. "From what I'm told that's anything but true. You're a legend here-outstanding athlete and outstanding student. That's pretty incredible." He shook our hands again and we left with much better feelings than the last time we were in the principal's office.

We took the SAT's in early November and our weeks of toil and study paid off handsomely.

Cinda earned a 2300 and I had a 2360 out of a perfect 2400. We were overjoyed.

There was nothing to be

gained by taking it again. Our scores would qualify us for any university in the world.

Our basketball team was looking stronger than ever. Kenny and Mark were now three-year starters and this was my fourth. We had lost Jason, a good guard, and Jon, a small forward, but we had picked up four starters from last year's 24-4 junior varsity. Even better, one of those players was 6'6" and another was my height- 6'4".

I had called time-out three minutes into our first game.

They threw a junk defense, one designed to double and even triple team me whenever I moved inside the foul line, I could have probably shot all day from the three-point line, but I planned to drive to the basket whenever possible. My teammates had to be ready to move to the

basket and receive the passes I would deliver for layups. They

"held" me to 34, but I had seventeen assists, a school record. We

won 89-54. The new kids played the entire fourth quarter.

The remaining games before Christmas were carbon copies- some crazy defense specially designed for me, plenty of assists, many of my baskets coming off fast breaks or offensive rebounds -as we won by an average of 28 points. I felt a bit of trepidation when I walked onto St. Ann's court two days after Christmas for the final of their Holiday Tournament. They, too, tried a special defense a triangle and two with the two shadowing me all over the court. Unfortunately, I was taller and able to jump much higher than the players guarding me.

I passed the ball to Mark as soon as crossed the mid-court line then brushed one of my defenders off a pick by Kenny. Mark delivered the ball right on time as I reached the apex of my jump. I rammed it home with a thunderous dunk that appeared to shake the entire gym. Our fans went wild; theirs groaned. It was a sign of things to come. They missed their shot and Kenny rebounded, passing out to Mark who caught me mid-stride at the mid-court line. Two dribbles and I slowed down so I'd be fouled as I dunked again. We ran the score to 17-5 and then to 28-9. At halftime it was 47-16. I rested the entire second half. I "only" scored 27, but that was more than enough. It looked like we'd run the table again. Then I got the phone call.

It was Saturday aftermoon, the first weekend in January, when Momma phoned. I often spoke with her, but it was Cinda she usually wanted to talk with. Not today she was serious when I heard her speak. "There's no easy way to say this, Ty. Your grandma passed away last night. She was supposed to pick me up for some shopping up in Morgan City. I called when she was an hour late then drove over there with the Sheriff. His men were able

to get into the house. We found her in bed, a peaceful look on her face. She had a weak heart, Ty. She hid it well, but she told me several times over the past year that she felt she was on borrowed time. I'm so sorry. Can you call your mother or would you like me to do it?"

"I'll make the call, Momma. I guess we'll see you soon. Bye." Cinda sat next to me, her hand in mine. "It's Grandma, Cinda...she's gone." I broke down and cried terribly into Cinda's shoulder as she held and caressed my head. Slowly between gasps I explained what Momma had said. "I said I'd call Mom, but think should go. Will you drive? I don't think can just now." Cinda put Fred out. Somehow he knew once again that something was wrong. I hugged him then we were out the door for the fifteen minute ride to the farm.

Cinda led the way luckily. I could barely see through the tears which anly got worse when Mom came to the door. "It's Grandma," Cinda explained. "Momma just phoned." She went on to explain the conversation.

Mom came to me to hug me. "As evil as your grandfather was, Ty that's how good your grandmother was. She'll be missed."

"I know, Mom. already miss her." We went in and sat while Dad called the Sheriff's office and then the mortuary where Grandma's body was taken. The call was only ended for about five minutes when it rang. Cinda answered once she saw it was Pastor Robbins. He offered to coordinate everything until we could get to Louisiana. Dad made flight arrangements for Wednesday morning after my game on Tuesday afternoon. I'd miss Friday's game. Suddenly, it meant nothing to me. I slept poorly that night. Thank God I had Cinda with me. She helped me in the shower and later she dried me and put me to bed where she comforted me with her body. She slept on her back, pulling my head to her breast. I suckled for more than an hour until I fell asleep at last.

We met Kenny and Mandy outside church as usual. They could tell immediately that something was terribly wrong. "I need a favor, Kenny."

"Anything...what's wrong?"

"Ty's grandma passed away, Kenny. She was a wonderful woman,

just the opposite of his grandfather. We stayed there together

before we were married and after, too. She did so much for the

poor, too"

"When are you going?"