Ugly - short story

I never heard anyone either address or refer to him as anything other than "Ugly." He must have had another name, of course, but if he did I don't know anyone who knew what it was, including those in the grade above me, who were in his class. I don't know where he came from either. He just appeared one day on the hard dry field that served as a combination baseball diamond, football field and playground. There he was with his incredibly worn infielder's glove (which looked like an antique), playing third base as if that position had been created specially for him. It was rumored that Mr. Walker had hired Ugly's father in one of the mines he controlled so that Ugly could play football for our High School that Fall, decidedly against the rules, but a common enough practice in the small mining and lumbering world we inhabited in those happier days.
Ugly was ugly, if you considered only his face. He had a long slab shaped face with high cheekbones and abnormally widely spaced eyes, one obviously blue and the other strangely grayish green. His ears, although they did not protrude unusually, were too large even for his long face. His ordinary brown hair was thin as if he were prematurely balding. He was older than he should have been to be a junior in High School, no doubt a result of the fact that his father, an itinerant miner, had never stayed in one place for more than a few months at a time. He apparently had no mother. One of the local wags suggested cruelly that she had taken one look at him and ran away.
Ugly didn't seem to mind being called that. He never took offense or changed his expression when so addressed. I guess it had gone on for so long he was simply resigned to it. Of course he didn't display much emotion anyway, whether playing ball or talking with his peers. I can't say his friends because he had none. His life was devoted exclusively to athletics and he played every sport with such grace and confidence you forgot all about his appearance. His body seemed to have been designed for no other purpose. He was six feet, probably a hundred and sixty five or seventy pounds, all muscle. He had slightly stooped shoulders which suggested speed rather than imperfection. Long arms and big hands enabled him to catch and throw with ease and velocity. Long legs gave him unusual speed and maneuverability. On the playing field, at whatever sport, he knew precisely where everyone was and what needed to be done. He played to win and did. He was polite and pleasant enough to everyone, but there was an aura about him that kept people at a distance.
In a way Ugly was like the town itself. As you entered the place the first thing you saw was the horribly polluted river that ran alongside the highway, a river running grayish white with waste from the lead and silver mines. It was not only ugly but poisonous as well. And as the river was already polluted everyone took the liberty of polluting it further; throwing in their garbage, tires, unwanted kittens, old appliances, bottles, cans and whatever. It was like a gigantic running cesspool that could not be ignored. But once you left the river and entered the town itself you found that it was quite beautiful, nestled in a narrow valley with steep pine covered mountains on all sides. Many of the houses were built on the steep slopes with long wooden stairways and an informal network of children's paths running maze-like here and there and nowhere. The streets were named for trees. There was a Pine Street, an Elm Street, an Oak Street, and so on, and on each of the streets were rows of the appropriate trees; except for Maple Street which, for some inexplicable reason, was lined with huge chestnut trees. The most expensive homes were built on what flat land there was, all had well kept lawns and flower gardens, everyone knew their neighbors, the trees provided shade in the summer, everyone kept their sidewalk shoveled in the winter, and life went on pleasantly enough. The river, like Ugly's face, marred what was otherwise as close to perfection as one might expect to find.
Mr. Walker, by far the wealthiest man in town, lived on the corner of Oak and Elm streets. His was the nicest house in town, three stories, white, with huge windows and a porch that ran clear across the front and down one side. The landscaping was perfect, the achievement of a full time gardener which no one else could afford. The house and yard were enclosed by a wrought iron fence which, aside from the one on the banker's house across the street, was the only one in town. The metal fences were more symbolic than functional, emphasizing class differences as there were no others. Mr. Walker seldom fraternized with his fellow citizens, the one exception being the weekly football games. He was an avid fan and never missed a game. I always thought this strange as his son attended a private school in the city and had no apparent interest in football. His daughter, Anne, for whatever reason, attended our Public School, although she did not socialize much with the rest of us. She never, for example, attended a prom, nor did she hang out after school in the local soda fountain. She walked to school and back as we all did, but seldom with anyone. With her long auburn hair, large brown eyes and shy smile she was as beautiful as Ugly was ugly.
I have no idea how the two of them got together but suddenly they were the hottest topic around. "You'll never believe who Anne was walking home with," it started.
"Who?" one of the girls dutifully asked.
"Ugly!"
"No! I don't believe it! Not Ugly!"
There was much giggling and laughing amongst the teenagers as they discussed and attempted to digest this unprecedented development. The town bully was the only one who mentioned it in Ugly's presence. His sarcastic remark left him on his hands and knees gasping for breath. It was said by those who witnessed it that Ugly hit him so fast no one saw the punch. He stood there with both hands in his pockets looking down at the poor fellow and then just turned and walked away. After that everyone kept their remarks to themselves.
As a running back Ugly did everything expected of him and more. Our team was undefeated for the season and lost only in the final game of the State Championship. The relationship between Anne and Ugly continued and he was now seen with her every afternoon, carrying her books and walking her home. The two of them avoided the rest of us and, indeed, seemed oblivious of anything except each other. Everyone wondered what Mr. Walker thought of the affair, especially as Ugly lounged at the metal gate every afternoon talking to Anne until her mother finally had to call her in. Ugly never got past the gate, but as no one else ever had, that was taken for granted.
Mr. Walker was so excited when we won our final conference game against our traditional rival that he actually spoke to one of the miners whose son had played exceptionally well. This was all the more surprising as the man in question had been a union organizer thirty years previously and for all those years the unforgiving Mr. Walker had never once spoken to him.
As the football season began to reach its climax the leaves were falling, the chestnut trees dropped their green thorny fruits spilling the lovely brown and white nuts on the sidewalks, we split the long droppings from the elms and glued them on our noses, and the first snow flurries began to fall. Ugly led the basketball team to victory just as he had in football. He was a magician with the ball, passing and shooting as if guided by some divine hand. And, although they never appeared at any public event, Anne and Ugly were constantly on everyone's mind. They were now inseparable, walking both to and from school without fail, talking endlessly in low tones over the metal fence, seemingly oblivious to the rude stares and titters of their classmates.
Then, suddenly, Ugly disappeared as mysteriously as he had arrived. Everyone had assumed he would lead the baseball team to the championships just as he had in football and basketball. When he failed to show up for the first week of practice we all assumed there must be a good and understandable reason. But then we became aware of the fact that he was gone. Someone reported that Ugly's father had been fired and the two of them had been seen leaving town in his father's beat up old Ford pickup.
As we puzzled over this unfortunate and to us absolutely traumatic development we suddenly realized that Anne had not been seen for some time either. The High School was rife with rumors of elopement or, at least, that Anne had run away after Ugly's father was fired. One of the girls claimed to have seen her at the train station with a huge pile of luggage.
Several days passed and the girls could stand it no longer. They elected Kelly, the most popular (and also the most aggressive of the girls) to approach Anne's mother and inquire as to what had happened to her. Mrs. Walker, as beautiful as her daughter, was rarely seen in public. None of the girls had ever spoken to her. Kelly timidly opened the gate and approached Anne's house. She glanced back at the little knot of watching friends then turned and boldly rapped on the door with the huge bronze knocker. She waited and then was about to walk away when the door finally opened and Anne's mother appeared. She appeared to have been crying. A brief conversation ensued. The door closed abruptly. Kelly hurried back to her friends.
"What did she say? What did she say? Where is Anne? What happened?" Everyone spoke at once.
Kelly paused, waiting for an opportunity to answer. When it came she reported simply, "Her mother says she has gone to live with her aunt in Seattle for a few months."