Wyler stood next to the microphone stand with his arms folded across his chest, watching the bleachers.

Matty didn’t answer the boys in the fifth row.

He didn’t raise his voice or look at Wyler.

He got up off the gray metal chair and turned toward the bleachers.

He walked past the Navy display table with his shoulders square and his head held high.

He climbed the bleacher steps to the third row and went back to his seat.

He sat down without a sound and laid both hands on his knees.