[S] A Student of the Game

This is another story I wrote last school year. As usual, constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms. :)

________________________________________ ___

“Harkins! You’re in the hole, you’d better get ready!”

David shifted his gaze as he heard his manager’s request. Since the end of the seventh inning, he had drawn himself inward, and had been going over his performance in the game so far. He’d silently watched the opposing pitcher throw a harmless 1-2-3 eighth and studied his pitches as they were thrown. Uses the fastball to set up his change, fastball to set up the change. Lopez nodded as David looked at him and gestured for David to grab a bat to loosen up. Groaning deeply, he placed his hands on his knees and lifted himself off of the bench. He stretched his arms to the sky momentarily, then walked past his teammates over to the team’s leader.

As he slid by player after player, his battery mate from the outfield, Jerome Kennedy, caught his attention, “Hey, Big D! Man, this guy is throwin’ :skull::skull::skull::skull:in’ smoke! You think you can take ’im?”

David, who had returned his attention back to the pitcher momentarily, looked at Jerome amusedly to see the big grin on his face as he continued, “Ah, man, I’m just kidding! I know you’ll take this fool out,”

The third baseman, Todd Morris, grabbed the attention of everyone around him as he spoke up, “Yeah, Dave, you’ll take him out. You’ll probably be takin’ him out to dinner and thanking him for not embarrassing you as much as he could,” This elicited a few snickers, but David knew better than to take what Morris said to heart.

“I wouldn’t be talking, Todd. Can we say ‘oh-for-20’?” Everyone knew David was a meticulous statistician for the team, so he knew how everyone had performed so far in the season. “And you aren’t even starting now, so, ah, yeah.” He smiled smarmily as he reached to grab a bat and pound knuckles with Jerome. A few people laughed and gave him high-fives as he continued on his way to Lopez, and Todd was rendered silent.

“Gentlemen! Let’s keep our heads in the game, alright?” Lopez attempted to regain his troops’ attention, and his voice got louder at the end of the sentence as he clapped his hands together twice. David approached him and glanced to the pitcher, who was busy battling with Chris Ford, the team’s second baseman.

He glanced back to Lopez, “So, Coach, anything I should keep in mind?”

Lopez smiled and chuckled a little bit, “I would think you’d know better than I would! But if Chris or R.J. gets on base,” David turned his gaze to R.J. Duarte, who was clearly frustrated with his game today, “We’re going to hit and run. We need the run any way we can get it now,” As he finished the sentence, Ford lifted a lazy fly ball for the right fielder to catch easily. There was one out now.

Lopez scrunched his face in annoyance, “Well, go get ‘em, Dave.”

As David stepped out of the dugout, the prevailing wind slapped the side of his face. The sky was overcast, but it hadn’t rained. His clothes whipped slightly, and he noted that the wind was traveling out to right field. Perfect.

Chris hastily stepped back to the dugout as David slowly walked to the on-deck circle. He saw the grim expression on his teammate’s face, and yelled to him, “Chris, man, it’s okay! You look like someone ran over your cat which, I don’t know, that doesn’t seem like a bad thing,” It worked: Chris grinned and pounded his chest as he stepped behind the chain-link fence. David pounded his chest in response, “We’ll get it done for you, man, me and R.J.”

R.J. stepped up to home plate, holding the bat in front of him as a medieval knight might hold his sword. His feet dug into the dirt, and he rolled his wrists to circulate the bat before setting it to hover over his left shoulder. The bat wagged a little bit in the air, and David watched as R.J slapped the first pitch back up the middle. David paused until R.J. had sprinted to first base before strolling toward the batter’s box.

The wind squinted David’s eyes as it blew by him, a reminder that it would carry a baseball, if asked. He scuffed his cleats in the dirt, also, and lifted the bat up in the air with his left hand before grasping it with both to get set. His batting stance was something out of a textbook: His weight was balanced on both of his feet, and the bat was held nearly straight up in the air. He was only slightly crouched, but given his respectively muscular six-foot-two frame and immense potential, Lopez hadn’t bothered to tinker with it. It was comfortable to David, profitable for the team, and problematic for the opponents.

Once he was settled, he buckled down. His hands gripped the bat a little tighter as the pitcher peered in to the catcher squatting a foot behind him. A few scattered cheers rose from the stands and from the dugout and they willed David to lead them to victory. The wind blew into his ears, but David heard absolutely nothing. The pitcher set, and the wave of his bat stiffened as the pitch was let go.

Less than a second and a swing later, the ball was traveling the other way, 330 feet to the right field fence. The bat was dropping from David’s hands after a solid “PING” had been heard by all. A small roar erupted from the small crowd in the stands. Everyone in the dugout, save for Todd Morris, sprang out to see the right fielder helplessly give chase to a ball he had no chance of catching. The pitcher simply watched dejectedly as his beauty disappeared from sight on the other side of the fence, then walked back to his dugout. David himself trotted quickly around the bases, smiling to himself at his small accomplishment. A win was a win, but a lot still had to be done.


* * *

The locker room was a circus following the victory. Several people whooped and hollered again and again in celebration. Everyone came by to give David a high-five, and he was more than willing to oblige. Jerome joked about how he thought he saw a tear in the pitcher’s eye, and about how he wasn’t sure whether he was upset or honored to give up a home run to “Big Deeeeeeeeee!” The commotion carried on until Lopez strolled into the midst of this emotional high and demanded everyone’s attention.

“Guys, guys! Calm down for a second here,” he said, “Now, we won, but—” This elicited more whooping and hollering, and a smile on Lopez’s face, “But we’ve still got a lot of work to do. We had to work for that one, we need to be more disciplined.”

“However, since you guys worked your ass off to take this one back, I’m goin’ to cancel practice tomorrow,” The reinforcement of this idea was resounding, the volume reaching greater heights than before. Lopez walked away, patting a few people on the back on the way, and everyone continued settling back into normal life.

As usual, David was the last person out of the locker room. He didn’t like to fight with everyone else to get out, and he used the time getting dressed to go over what he could have done better. As he tied his shoes and grabbed his jacket and backpack, he thought about the cutoff man he missed in the third and the pitch he swung under in the sixth. He never dwelled on things more than a day, because he knew he would improve the next time. Things would get better for him, for Coach Lopez and for the team. Contented, he swung his backpack onto his shoulders and walked out of the room.

It was drizzling lightly outside, and the sun had managed to peek back through the clouds as it set in the west. The sunlight refracted in the clouds and made it seem brighter than it was, so David grabbed his sunglasses and put them on, instantly noticing that Jerome had been waiting for him. His friend was decked in all white, right down to the smile on his face as David walked toward him. Once within arms length, they gave each other their informal handshake.

“David, you are a saint, man,” Jerome laughed. No doubt he was grateful that David had cancelled practice, “Did you actually watch that ball you hit today? Shoot, man, I wish I could hit like that.”

“Aww, I’m no saint, JK,” David had a practice of deflecting praise in baseball, “You should thank R.J., too. He was the winning run. Without him, it’s still a tie game, right?”

“I can’t believe how down to earth you are, man. If I were you, I’d be like, ‘Yeah, yeah, I’m know I’m the greatest.’”

David laughed a little, “All the greats were modest. ‘Cept for maybe the Babe and Reggie Jackson. It’s still a long season, and if we get our asses kicked in the next game. . .You’d better believe Lopez’ll have us out on the field twice as long because he cancelled practice for us.”

“I hear you, man, I hear, you. Keep our eyes on the prize, right?”

David nodded, “Exactly. We’re only 4-3. We could be 6-1, or better. I don’t want to sound like a hardass, but. . .”

Jerome put his hand up and smiled, “Aww, D, don’t worry about that! You’re the best guy on this team by far, and everyone likes you. Well, Todd may have a problem, but, you know. . .he doesn’t count.”

David looked down and smiled as Jerome continued, “Hey, you want to come with me and the boys over to Foster’s? Victory Big Bosses for all!”

“I can’t, I’ve got a lot of work to do for class tomorrow,” David shifted his backpack and sighed, “Government is such a pain in the ass.”

Jerome understood, and the two finished up their conversation and went on their ways. As David walked to his car, he turned back to see Jerome and a couple of other players walking to the fast food joint. The luxury of fast food hadn’t been available for a while to David, but he missed it, nonetheless. His moment of lament passed, and took out his keys to go home.


* * *

The rain stopped entirely as David pulled up in front of his house. The lawn, made up mostly of countless weeds, was damp and drops fell randomly from the gigantic oak tree. It was closer to nighttime now, and he was glad to see the outline of light through closed blinds. Someone’s home, he thought, Now let’s hope for dinner.

He swung the door open and was greeted by the sounds of something frying on the stove and “The Matrix” on the television. The family dog, Barf, ran up to him happily and jumped to get attention. Barf was rewarded, as David knelt down to pet his Pomeranian and scratch him behind his ears, “Hey, my dooooog! How’s my dog doin’, huh?”

A lady moved into the kitchen walkway and noticed David and the dog playing, “David, hon, could you please move out of the hallway?”

David looked up and withdrew his hands. Barf resumed jumping, “Oh yeah, sorry, Mom. Just. . .like to say hi to Barf after a long day!”

His mom smiled back at him and walked back into the kitchen. It was a magnificent mess of several dirty dishes strewn about the counter, and appliances and food waiting to be used. She had been working on something special for dinner, which surprised David because she usually never had much time to cook a real meal. He took the smell from the pan in as his mom spoke, “We’re having pork chops for dinner, is that okay? How was the game?”

“It beats frozen chicken nuggets. And, we won, 6-5. Walk-off home run by yours truly!”

She looked back at him briefly with a gleam in her eyes before she came and gave him a big hug. He was a lot taller than her five-foot-seven, but he was more than willing to reach down and hug her back. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and spoke, “Oh! I’m so proud of you, David! You’ve gotten so good, it makes me wonder if you have a future there,” The pan began crackling a bit, so his mom reached to turn the heat down before moving to the fridge, “What do you think? Have you thought about that at all?”

There was a slight pause. The TV blared quietly in the adjacent room, but David honestly didn’t know what to say. He had entertained the idea of entering the professional draft, but he also had offers from Fresno State, USC and Cal to pay for his entire college education by playing baseball for them. On the one hand, it was his dream to play in the big leagues, but on the other hand. . . He already knew there were going to be regrets with whichever road he decided to travel. It was a matter of picking his “poison”.

Neo was calling for Trinity’s help on the television, followed by drawn-out gunshots as he took to dodging them. David spoke up finally, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking about it. Coach is always telling me I have the potential, but I think we both know it’s not an easy decision.”

His mom looked at him, and David expected some type of response. Instead, he got something different, “Well, we’ll talk about it at dinner. Why don’t you put your things away; the chops will be done in a few minutes.”

It was then that David realized he was still carrying his backpack. He nodded and made his way to his room. Dinner was going to be later and longer than expected, and he had homework to do, so it was going to be a long night.


* * *

The next morning seemed to come too soon for David. It was cool for a March morning, and he shivered a little and yawned as he walked to class. People waved greetings to him and he waved in turn, and others gave him informal handshakes, but he wasn’t really in the mood to stay and converse when class started in mere minutes. The dinner conversation had pushed the right buttons for both he and his mom; they had sat for an hour and a half and tried to figure out what was best for both David and the family. No real conclusion had been reached, but she had understood the magnitude of the decision. David took solace in that as he walked hastily to class, but the lack of finality meant wasted time, which meant that he probably could have had his homework done sooner, which meant he could have had more sleep then he ended up getting. An after-school nap was in order to replace the cancelled practice, but he had to get through four classes first, starting with government.

He walked into the classroom and to his seat just as he had walked in every day this year, and people conversed around him as he pulled his book out. He quietly kept to himself and heard about this and that: Kelly Moyer was having “guy trouble again,” Jason Hartnall was boasting to someone about the senior prank he was going to do, Lorena McDonald used “David Harkins” and “Christina Carpentaria” in the same run-on sentence. The last one caught his attention for obvious reasons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what she was talking about because she sat only two desks away and was loud. He’d known of Christina’s interest in him for a while, but never let on that he knew. He smiled to himself as he listened and took out his notebook, and wondered if Lorena knew that he had heard that “Christina’s going to, like, ask him out after school, I think.” There was no chance to find out, though; Mr. Dudley began the day’s activities as soon as the bell rang, and David dismissed everything from his mind except school. Christina, baseball, the future would all be dealt with later.


* * *

It had been cloudy the previous week, so David forgot what the warmth and brightness of an afternoon sun felt like. Sunglasses bailed him out once more, and so he set his sights on finding Christina before he went home. Her clique was in the same afternoon locale as it had been for the last four years, and he purposely walked slowly by them in the hopes of attracting Christina’s attention. She took the bait, and he watched the commotion in the group out of the corner of his eye as Christina quickly emerged and raced to catch up with him, “David? Hey, David, hold on a second!”

His act began by stopping and turning around to see her hurrying toward him. Her sandals flopped or slid with every step she took, and her brown hair waved freely in the air. Through his sunglasses, he could see her eyes were full of anticipation for what she was going to do. Not wanting to waste time, David spoke up, “Oh, hi, CeeCee, how’s it going?”

She stopped in front of him and giggled at her nickname. David knew only her best friends called her that, and she must have taken it as a good sign. She downplayed it, and responded in an almost breathless and youthful voice, “Ohhh, you know, I’m getting along alright. How about you?”

“I’m doing alright, too. Got an A on the government test today, so I can’t complain,” he said. She smiled and he continued, “Hey, you want to walk this way with me? I’ve got to get some sleep soon or I’m goin’ to pass out,” With that, he snuck a glance at her clique, looking at the two of them and murmuring about things only they and heaven knew about. Satisfied that everything was going to his plan, he turned with Christina and walked to his car.

The walk lasted for only about three minutes, and Christina did most of the talking. David listened only half-heartedly but kept his eyes on the girl walking next to him. She looked up and straight into his eyes as she talked, bursting with confidence through her demeanor and her voice. She’s so determined, he thought, I can’t wait to see how she does this. . . When they reached the car, David theatrically pretended he was in a hurry to get home, which pressed Christina into action.

“Wait, wait! I, um, wanted to ask you something before you left.”

This was exactly what he was hoping for, “Hmm? Oh, sure, go ahead. What’s up?”

Right in that moment, her attitude changed. She became automatically more timid, and her eyes broke contact with his for the first time, “Well. . .I, uh. . .I wanted to see if you wanted to go out tomorrow night. Dinner and a movie, maybe?”

Christina couldn’t see it, but behind the sunglasses, David looked down and placed a half-smile on his face to hide what he was thinking. This is the moment of truth, he thought, Here’s hoping letting her down comes easily. . .

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Christina, I’d love to, but—” The pause made Christina look defeated, and David had to continue, “It’s not you, it’s me. I just. . . have too many other things to worry about right now, you know? The team, AP classes, college. . .”

He could tell she thought her chances were slipping away, and she started trying to salvage it, “Well, what about prom? Everyone knows you don’t have a date for that, right? You could go with me to that,” David looked away toward nothing, creating a hint that Christina immediately got, “Are you even going to prom?”

“No, I hadn’t planned on it. I don’t have enough money.”

“Well, couldn’t you borrow money from your family? Your parents have jobs, don’t they?”

David didn’t bother to answer right away. The pause turned into an awkward silence, saved only by the arrival of Todd Morris and his posse of three. Todd’s classic Camaro was parked across the lane, and he called over to David almost immediately, “Mr. Harkins! What’re you doing with Miss Carpentaria over there? I hope you’re not hurting her feelings at all!”

David didn’t respond to Todd, either. He simply muttered, “I have to get going.”

Christina seemed surprised at this, “What? I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?”

“Not on purpose, no. But, I still have to get going,” He opened his car door and climbed in without waiting for Christina to respond. As he turned the ignition, she pleadingly knocked on his window. Not wanting to be cold and distant, he reached to roll it down so she could speak.

“Hey, David, I’m sorry. I must’ve hit a soft spot or something, and I want to say I’m sorry,” Her face was one of pity, something he hated. She didn’t know why he was upset, though, so he let it go.

“It’s okay, it’s just a personal thing. I’ll have to tell you some other time,” He began to roll the window up when Christina quickly blurted an idea.

“How about dinner and a movie? You can come to my house and we can talk.” She was sincere about it, but David still had to think about it before answering.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m going to take a nap, and I’ll call Chris Ford to get your number so that I can let you know when to expect me.”

Christina agreed and nodded, and she waved as David finished rolling up the window. When he backed up and pulled away, he saw Todd walk over to Christina in his rear-view, no doubt asking about what just happened. David knew that she would tell Todd everything, which could only mean one more thing to worry about. He reached to his radio to drown out his thoughts, and he went home trying not to think about what he would have to say later.


* * *

He walked into the house to be greeted by absolutely nothing. Everything was about the same as he had left it this morning, although a few more things were strewn about the living room. After dropping his backpack in his room, he went to check the answering machine. It lazily blinked “2,” so David hit PLAY to hear what they said.

“Hello, this message is for Rosanna Harkins. My name is James DeAmico, I’m calling on behalf of the Benson, Williams and Fogg company about your application for a secretary position. . .” David listened to the message and took down the number to which his mom would return the call later. After the mechanical male voice spouted the date and time, the second message played:

“Hey, David, it’s Lorena McDonald! I got your number from Jerome, I just wanted to call and see if I could get your help preparing for the AP test in a couple of weeks! Seriously, I have no idea what’s going on, if you would help it would be soooo great! My number is 266 – 2234. Thanks a lot, bye!” David smirked a little bit, Lorena really did have no idea what was going on in that class. He’d have to set something up, but that would wait until later. For now, he was going to make good on the promise to himself and take a nap.

He kicked off his shoes and sent them flying into the front of the couch. Barf was scratching anxiously to be let into the house, and David was happy to let me him. The dog liked to sleep at the base of David’s bed, usually on top of a pile of dirty clothes, and David didn’t want to make his pet suffer. As he walked to his room, Barf sprinted past him and jumped onto the bed excitedly. David offered a hand to scratch Barf’s ear momentarily, and then withdrew it and fell onto the mattress. The previous night had taken more of a toll on him than he originally expected. Almost immediately, the soft whirring of the air conditioner lulled David to sleep.


* * *

The sudden flood of light into David’s closed eyes was near-blinding, causing him to stir a little to escape it. It didn’t go away, though, but instead got worse with the sudden application of a hand onto his back to shake him awake.

“David, a girl named Christina just called. She said you were supposed to go over to her house for a date or something. It’s seven o’clock, David, you need to get up and go,” His mom was delivering a message, but the full effect of her words didn’t translate because he was still tired, “Hon, you need to get ready for your date!”

Finally, David shifted and rolled himself onto his back. He rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, only to see his mom staring at him, “You should take a shower and change before you go. Your hair is all messed up.”

He merely blinked a few times and nodded. With that, she got up and walked back to her own business. He propped himself up to look at his alarm clock, which now beamed “7:03”. There was a great temptation to simply call Christina back and tell her that he couldn’t make it, but he had promised her that they would talk. It wouldn’t have been fair to her to withhold the truth longer than necessary, so David found the strength to lift himself out of bed and walk to the bathroom. His mom yelled from the other room, “She left her number here for you to call when you’re on your way,” He waved his hand in acknowledgment, grabbed a towel and closed the door.

The time of evening meant that David had no choice but to hurry through everything. He stayed in the shower only long enough to shampoo and soap up, dried enough to leave a fine layer on water on his skin, and got dressed hastily. His dresser produced a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt, which were joined by a black baseball cap and sandals. There was no need to dress up because it wasn’t a “date,” like his mom thought it to be. He half-jogged to grab his car keys and head out the door, but was cut off by his mom before he could make it.

“Honey, I want you to be safe, okay? Be back before two. . .”

“Yeah, I know, Mom. ‘That’s when all the drunks leave the bars.’ I’ll be okay, though,” He reached down to give her a kiss on the cheek and started to turn around again before she spoke again.

“And no funny stuff with this Christina girl, either! I’m too young to be a grandparent.”

“Mom,” he said, “this isn’t even a date!” he laughed a little bit, “She’s just a friend, so I don’t think you need to worry about that. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow an—”

“Well, probably not until tomorrow evening, sweetie,” she replied. “We have the leftovers from last night, so you can heat that up tomorrow for dinner,” he looked down sadly as she continued, “I’m sorry, David. I need all the hours I can get, though. I have Sunday off, I’ll be home all day then,” She lifted his chin with his hand to look into her eyes. She tried hard to smile to cover up her own sadness, but her voice gave it away, “It’ll be for the best, trust me.”

“I know,” he said. “I have a game tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll be at school for the better part of the day. I’ll have my cell phone if you need me.”

She agreed, and David was finally able to make his way to the car. The thoughts of loneliness that ran through his mind were unwelcome, since he considered everyone around him to be friends and family. As he drove, he tried to recall all of his friends: Little League teammates, Babe Ruth teammates, classmates he’d worked with on projects, Jerome, Chris Ford, R.J. Duarte. . . The list ran on and on in his mind, but it still didn’t seem satisfactory. The fact was that when his mom had to work, something was missed. Even at home, when she had to run around to multi-task nearly every day, something was still missing. Deep within, he knew exactly what that “something” was, but he never let on to it to anyone except his mom. She felt it, too. Now, of all people, Christina Carpentaria was going to find out.

The car groaned to a halt in front of a model suburban house. The tree in the front yard was still very young and the lawn was real grass. The numbers “3442” glowed in a subdued orange light on the garage façade, indicating that this was the right house. Under the glow of a street lamp, David could make out the figure of spring flowers beginning to bloom in the planters. A big dog barked from a couple of houses over, no doubt defending its owner’s residence. David walked up the driveway to the front door and rang the doorbell. He heard the inside ring faintly from his position outside, followed by a brief period of pure silence. This was a quiet part of town, but David didn’t know that it was this quiet.

Finally, the porch light flipped on and the locks on the door were being undone. It opened slowly with some persuasion, and on the other side stood Christina. She looked differently to David now than she did at school in the afternoon; her expression wasn’t full of emotion like it had been earlier. Her smile was subdued as she invited him inside.

It was clear that Christina had been expecting him earlier than he had actually arrived: No one else was home. The television was halfway through “Sleepless in Seattle,” which was proof that she had wanted to set up something with a romantic angle. The dining room smelled faintly of food, but there was none to be found on the table. Christina’s plans were ruined, but David’s weren’t. He hadn’t come to romance in the first place, but to talk. There was a reason he had purposefully tried to head off any romantic advancement, and he wanted to stick to it. She offered him a place next to her on the loveseat, and he unwillingly obliged. The scene was set, and now it was up to someone to start it.

Christina managed to speak up first, “Listen, I just wanted to say I’m sorry again, for what I said earlier at school,” David put his hand up to signal that there was no need for apology, so she continued, “I talked to Todd after you left, and he told me some things. . .”
“What did he tell you?”

“Well, I told him about our conversation and. . . he told me things about you, I guess, that only he and a few others know.”

“What did he tell you?”

Christina looked at David. She could see something in his eyes that he was waiting for her to figure out, and he inwardly hoped that she would come out and simply say it.

“He said that you and your family were poor, and that’s why you have no money,” she paused to see David’s eyes again, emotionless and yet hurting, “And that’s why you play baseball.”

There was another pause before David finally spoke again, “Well, Todd’s right. About all of it, he’s right. I don’t like to think of it as ‘poor,’ but. . .we do have trouble making ends meet.” He was surprised that Todd hadn’t tried to manipulate the facts, but then realized that maybe there was some humanity to him, after all.

David couldn’t tell, but Christina was equally as surprised at David’s brutal honesty, “What? How, why? Something must have happened, right?”

“Well, like Todd said, he’s one of the few people that know what happened. That’s because we went to the same elementary school,” David took a breath before going on, “Back in fourth grade, my dad died out on a job,” He labored through this revelation, and Christina was completely taken by it, “He used to work for FEE, Fresno Electrical Engineering. The three guys who owned the company moved him up the ladder, gave him a raise enough to buy the house we live in now. He was good at what he did, and the people in charge knew it and he knew it. All the good things that were coming his way improved his morale and that of everyone around him. The company realized he was a valuable asset to have,”

“Then, you know, one day that good stuff ended. My dad and one of his co-workers were out at Hetch Hetchy doing maintenance and routine checks of some circuit breakers up there,” There was another slight silence before David kept speaking, “He reached for a line he thought was temporarily shut down and. . .” The pause was even longer this time, as David reached inwardly to find the right words to say, “He never knew what hit him. He died instantly. The co-worker tried to do CPR and had no luck. John Harkins, DOA at Merced Mercy Hospital at 2:24 PM; July 21, 1994.”

Christina sat there, stunned at the story, which was still unfinished. David kept going, “My mom was heart-broken. She didn’t have a job because my dad was always the breadwinner and she always stayed home and made sure I was growing up alright. She was angry, too, and tried to file a lawsuit against the company accusing them of recklessness in my dad’s death. We had O.S.H.A.’s help, but we ended up losing the case. He always wore gloves for that type of thing, he said so himself. But. . .the one time he chose not to was the one time that killed him. Over-confidence.”

He finally stopped. Christina looked lost, desperate to say something to help him feel better. Nothing she could say would be able to help him cope, anyway, but she tried regardless, “David, I’m so sorry. . . But, I don’t get why you play baseball because of it.”

“Well, it’s pretty simple. I used to play Little League, and I was terrible. My dad, before he passed away, always tried to help me with everything but never succeeded. He said I would get the hang of it someday. In the winter after he died, I read in the newspaper about how a few good players signed big contracts with teams. Alan Trammell, Mark Grace, Larry Walker. . . My mom was only making minimum wage, so I decided I had to improve so that I could help her. The first chance I got, I was going to get drafted, sign a big contract, and give a lot of the money to her. And that’s exactly what I’ve done, and everyone notices me. Now, though, it’s a little more complicated than it was back then.”

Christina knew right away what the problem was, “College, right?”

David nodded, “I want to get into the major leagues. That’s always been my dream, but it’s nowhere near easy to do. If it doesn’t pan out, what do I have to fall back on?” Christina nodded as he continued, “But then, if I go to college that means my mom has to live the way she does for another four years, and I don’t want that.”

It took a minute before Christina realized that David was done talking. He stood up slowly and took off his cap to run his hand through his hair. He threw an addendum on the end of his statement, “Todd always made fun of me before my dad died because I sucked at baseball and he was pretty good. Since then, it’s jealousy, because I’m better than him now and because I have a future there.”

“David, if I’d known about that, I never would’ve said what I said. And now I know why you always keep to yourself, because you don’t want anyone to know. . .” Christina tailed off and persuaded David to look at her. He could tell that she understood, but he still didn’t want her pity.

Everything that had to be said was said now. He thought about asking to leave, but decided against it because he hadn’t stayed that long. He worked to try and change the subject, “It’s okay, really. It’s just not something I like to deal with. . . ‘Sleepless in Seattle’?” Christina nodded, “I haven’t seen this movie in a while. It’s near the end, though, right?”

“Yeah, I was hoping we’d be able to watch it together but. . .”

David sighed and smiled a little, “Mm-hmm, I had to go and be late. Is it on again soon?”

“Not for another two hours on the west coast HBO. This is the east coast one.”

“Well, I’ve got plenty of time. I’ll stay and watch it with you. . .if you want,” Christina smiled and David blushed a little, “I just have to get home before the bars close. It’ll be done by then, though, right?”

Christina agreed, “Yeah, it will be,” She started to walk away toward the kitchen, “Do you want something to eat or drink? Or both? Oh, and you can sit down and make yourself at home!”

David complied and sat on the bigger couch in view of the TV, “Oh, I’ll just have some water, thanks,” He watched as Christina milled about in her kitchen preparing movie food fare. Within a few minutes, she had the two of them loaded with supplies: M&M’s, popcorn, drinks and the sort. Once everything was set, she plopped onto the couch next to David and reached to grab the remote. The tension that previously existed was gone now, and as Christina snuggled up to David, he wasn’t uncomfortable anymore.

Their movie may have been winding down, but in David’s mind, the real evening was just beginning.


* * *

Midnight came and went by the time that David was on his way home. The two had simply sat and quietly watched TV and talked only a little, then conversed for a little while with Christina’s parents when they got home from their date. After the adults had retired to their room, Christina had gotten up to turn off the lights and try to capture the “movie theatre” atmosphere. It worked well enough: “Sleepless in Seattle” played again, and David had sat and watched and snuck a few glances at his date. He could barely make out Christina’s face in the virtual dark, but every time he looked down she would lift her head from his shoulder and smile back up at him. There was no romanticizing, although David’s desire to at least kiss her once grew as time passed by. He didn’t want a relationship and had insisted to himself that there was no time for a relationship, but Christina was helping to change his mind. Before, she was a decent girl who deserved a decent guy, but as she walked with him to the front door, she was [i]the[i] girl in his mind.

She reached to open the front door, and he stepped out onto the porch. It was still silent, so when the two began to say goodnight, their voices were the only noise in the neighborhood.

“I’m really glad you decided to stay,” Christina said, “It turned out to be alright.”

“Yeah, that makes two of us. And to think I only came to talk, huh?” David smiled as he said this, and got bashful again when Christina grinned back at him. “I. . . really liked just hanging out with you, you know? We’ll have to see if we can do it again some other time.”

“Well, how about next Saturday I’ll come to your house? We can. . .hang out some more!”

David didn’t even have to think about this question, “Sure! I think I can manage that. I’m a pretty mean chef: frozen foods, canned foods, opening boxes and pouring stuff out,” Christina chuckled quietly, “No, I’m just kidding. I can make something.”

“Then, I’ll be looking forward to it.”

The two stood there momentarily, awkwardness hanging in the air. David looked at his watch, which read “1:18.” He needed to get home, “I guess until then, I’ll just see you at school?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” the pause turned into another silence as David frantically tried to decide whether to follow through on his hopes and risk getting rejected. She was the one that asked you, he thought to himself, so there has to be something there.

Through some unknown force, his hands reached for hers, as did his lips. He was surprised to discover, then, that she leaned up to him faster than he did to her, and so the kiss caught him off his guard. He took the fleeting embrace in, shivering in excitement, and let go when he thought it was appropriate. His eyes had been closed, which he hadn’t realized, and when he opened them again he saw Christina looking back at him in subtle happiness. Both of them got what they wanted. David, still in shock, finally broke the silence.
“Um, yeah, I’ll. . . see you on Monday,” With that, he withdrew his hands from hers and walked toward his car. When he reached to unlock his car door, she had already disappeared back into her house. Once he settled in and buckled up to go home, he let out a deep breath of satisfaction. He threw his head back onto the seat and smiled; people don’t kiss for no reason, he thought¸ I think I have a girlfriend now. The experience sunk in as he pulled away, and he couldn’t wait until Monday.


* * *

The drive home was filled with loud celebratory music and David’s lip-synching. Christina really had made his life a lot better in that one moment, and he now thought of love like a drug because it was so intoxicating. It worked well enough to make David think he was invincible, and he drove like it: Normally he followed the speed limit, but there were only a few cars going each way now and he figured it to be okay to speed every once in a while. His desire was to go to sleep and get Monday to roll around so he could see Christina again. The faster he drove, the sooner he could sleep.

He finally came up to his signal and pulled behind a couple of cars in the left-turn lane. The car clock told him that he was making better time than usual, and that he would be home in less than five minutes. The opposing stoplights lazily blinked the red hand, and there wasn’t more than two cars approaching from the right. After what seemed like ages, the red hand stopped blinking, and the green lights were replaced by yellow and then red.

The red arrow directing David’s car finally turned green, and the two cars in front of his, pulled out and made their turns. As soon as he was clear, David hit the accelerator and pulled out into the intersection. He was speeding up, nearly two-thirds clear, when a pair of bright lights in his rear-view mirror suddenly appeared and temporarily blinded him. An instant later, the pair of lights barreled headlong into the passenger side of David’s car and produced a loud “POP” as the two pieces of metal collided. As the stranger’s car sped away into the night, David’s car careened out of his control. It made it out of the intersection and into a car slowing down into its own left-hand turn. There was no avoiding another collision: The front and left quarter of David’s car was greeted by the front and left quarter of the unsuspecting stranger’s car, and both were disfigured.

David himself had been thrown forward in his seatbelt by the sudden loss of motion and had hyper-extended his neck behind it. It was a classic case of whiplash, which would later induce a lot of lower back pain, but David didn’t know or care yet. His hand immediately reached for his neck and he yelled in pain. A lady emerged from the other car and ran over to David’s window to make sure he was okay. Through the glass, she could see he was in pain. To David’s left, a couple of other passers-by stopped and turned on their emergency lights before coming to assist the two of them. One man pulled out his cell phone, no doubt to call the police and ambulance while another pleaded for David to reach and unlock the door. David was able to, although with a lot of effort, and the victimized lady and the man helped him out of the car.

It didn’t take more than five seconds for David to discover he couldn’t stand straight without bringing a sharp pain in his back, but the two helpers had no trouble keeping him halfway rigid. When one or the other would falter, David would wince at the pain. He was normally a pillar of physical strength, but this was nothing like he had felt before, and he couldn’t help but cry because it hurt him badly.

Soon, flashing red lights and sirens could be seen and heard in the distance and were approaching fast. David had never been this happy to see an ambulance in his life, and they took great care to ease his pain when they arrived. Police reports were conducted, and David was given a temporary painkiller by one of the EMTs. They told him that he had to go to University Medical with them, and he wearily agreed. The police told him that they’d find the hit-and-run performer, and he sadly nodded. As he sat weary with the wake of an adrenaline flood and drugs, he casually asked one of the EMTs if he would be able to play in his game tomorrow.

The man shook his head, “Baseball? Sorry, kid, you’re probably going to be out of commission for a while,” This was the worst news David could hear, and he mourned to himself as they hauled him into the ambulance and drove off. They told him to relax as they bounded away toward the hospital and so he did. He had no other choice.


* * *

Light once again flooded David’s closed eyes as he stirred into consciousness again. He shifted to try and get away, only to be rudely reminded that he had an injury. The sharp pain startled him awake, and he looked wildly around the plain new room to see Jerome, Coach Lopez and his mom staring at him. His friend and his manager were dressed in baseball uniforms, save for regular shoes. His mom was still dressed in her work clothes, and he guessed she stood vigilant over him as soon as she heard the news. At the first sign of alertness, his mom sprang forth from her chair and reached to give her son a gentle hug. He could see that she had been crying, probably worried about his well-being. He didn’t dare to lift his arms and hug her back, for fear of pain. Instead, he stole glances at Lopez and Jerome, who both stood with somber expressions on their faces.

“Oh, my God, David, I’m so glad you’re okay!” His mom applied a kiss on the cheek and continued rambling, “We were all so worried sick about you, are you okay?”

“Yeah, Mom,” he grunted, “I’m fine. I’m not dead or anything.”

“Don’t even joke like that, David Harkins! You very well could be. Car accidents aren’t something to be joked about.”

David nodded to himself, and Coach Lopez spoke up, “Your mother contacted Jerome and I this morning and let us know what happened. You’re a big part of the team, and we wanted to swing by and wish you the best of behalf of everyone. . . From what I’ve heard, you’re going to be fine after some therapy, but it’s going to take a while to fully recover.”

“How long will it take, do you think?”

David could see that Lopez had bad news, “About three months. I don’t think you’ll be playing any more this year.”

David looked down, stunned at just how bad the news was. He tightened his lips before he responded, “No, I will. Keep me on the team. I can pinch hit. I—”
Lopez shook his head, “I can’t do that. It’s too bad for your health. I can keep you on the team and in uniform, but I can’t let you play,” Lopez turned his attention to David’s mom, “Ms. Harkins, I will do everything in my power to keep your son involved, but he can’t play.”

She nodded slowly in agreement. David was defeated, his dreams seemed completely out of reach now. The scholarships would probably be retracted and the majors wouldn’t want to take a risk on someone so recently injured. He tried not to let on, but his voice quivered a little as he talked, “Could you guys leave for a second? I just want to talk to Jerome,” The adults agreed and shuffled out as Jerome made his way next to David. David had never seen Jerome’s face so somber, so he tried to lighten his friend up, “Hey, man, you guys got the game today against Edison?” He extended his arm carefully to give Jerome a high-five.

The two shook hands and Jerome spoke, “Yeah, man. League opener. I tell you, though, it’s going to be different without you out there saving my ass in right field,” David laughed a little, “I’m serious, they’ve got Mike Lewis taking your place out there. The boy can’t hit!”

“Yeah, he can. Just tell him I said not to uppercut at everything. He’s not Jeff Bagwell,” Jerome gave a “thumbs up” as David kept talking, “Tell everyone I’ll try to be back in uniform as soon as I can. I may not be able to do :bou::bou::bou::bou:, but I’m still a part of that team.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout coming back too soon, D. We’ll be fine without your greatness. Even if you’re not on the field, you’ll still be there studying and watching, right? If those colleges and teams know anything, they’ll know there’s more to you than what you do on the field. You’re a student of the game, and that’s what they should :skull::skull::skull::skull:in’ be looking for. I’ll go kick some asses if you don’t get anywhere in the game because of this.”

David chuckled a little, “I’m thinking that you’re right. Just don’t get too carried away on your ass-kicking tirade, if it ever comes about. If you get suspended, then the team’s really in trouble.”

“That’s real, man, that’s real,” The two pounded knuckles, “You work on getting well, and I’ll just work on hitting home runs and replacing you as the best player on the team temporarily.”

“You do that, man,” David said. Jerome went to gather his gear and walk out of the room, “For God’s sake, watch the two-strike curveball, too!” Jerome flashed another grin and waved as he left the room.
His mom reentered the room and Lopez poked his head in to say goodbye, “We’ll be waiting for you out there. Take care.”

Almost immediately, David’s mom began rambling again. She made sure that he was comfortable for a third time, asked him if he needed anything from home or school, and told him that she’d bring food from home because she didn’t trust the hospital food. He understood she was just being motherly, and he told her he appreciated everything and would pay her back. All he had to do was get back out onto the field.


* * *

When he re-entered school a week later, David realized things were a lot different than when he had left. Everyone knew about the injury, and since everyone knew who he was, he received a lot of “get well” sympathy in the form of handshakes from guys and soft hugs from girls. Without the specter of baseball practice looming every day, David instead turned his attention to preparing for his AP tests. He set up meetings with Lorena McDonald, as she had asked, and had proven to be a capable tutor. He helped Christina with her work as best as he could despite being in different classes, and went over to her house often to take his mind off of things. Life had to be different with the center of his existence currently unavailable to him.

For a while, school work took precedence, and only occasionally did he go out and watch the team practice. When he did, he would watch quietly as they took batting practice and shagged fly balls in the outfield. He noticed that Mike Lewis had leveled out his swing and was slamming line drives to the outfield gaps and Jerome was working the pitch count in simulated situations. It satisfied him to see that the team was taking his advice to heart and was winning with it.

During his absence, he learned, the team had won four straight games and stood first in league. The advice was good enough to start attracting attention among his teammates, who knew about his capabilities but had never asked about it themselves. They would ask him about their swing mechanics and he would point something out, and they would correct it and instantly feel better, or he would instruct them how to get the best jump from first base and they would be stealing bases well ahead of any catcher’s throw or any number of other things. Even Todd, who had struggled with his hitting, took small pieces of advice and improved by using them.

Soon enough, he became the “unofficial assistant manager extraordinaire,” as coined by a few loyal students. Lopez certainly didn’t mind the help, especially since it was his best player doing the helping. It was made better with the winning and the unbound swagger the team began to carry. The team would occasionally lose a game or two, but David and Lopez made sure they never lost focus. Other high schools took notice as they rolled past one team after another in league competition and clinched a playoff berth earlier than any other school. Even with their MVP out of commission, his team was still a force to be reckoned with.


* * *

One May afternoon, David walked out of a classroom and let out an exaggerated groan as he saw Christina waiting and smiling at him. She walked toward him and grabbed his hand, “Sooo? How did it go?”

David looked around and noticed that there was only one other person around, so he reached down to give Christina a quick kiss before answering, “Hoo, it was brutal. That test was ugly for a long while.”

“Well, how do you think you did? Come on, tell me!”

“Ehh, I think I did well enough to pass. It’ll be a while before I know, though.”

“David, how smart are you again? I mean, if you can help Lorena with that test," she chuckled a little, "You’ll pass that test, I know it.”

David shrugged a little, “Well, if you say so,” He shifted his backpack and started to walk along with her, “I can’t really stay around too long. I have to get ready for the game tonight at Buchanan. This one’s the big one!”

“Yeah, I know,” Christina said, “And I’m going to be there rooting you on, even if you aren’t on the field.”

David looked at her in surprise, seeing that she seemed very happy with herself, “You didn’t tell me you were going to the game!”

Christina smirked, “Well, I just wanted it to be a surprise! This is to go to the state playoffs, isn’t it? How could I miss your finest performance as a coach?”

David laughed a little, “Hey, I’m like. . . 30 years too young to be called ‘Coach,’” Christina laughed herself, “It’s nice, though, to be a leader, but not the same as being on the field.”

David stopped walking at that moment. He knew that Christina understood that the therapy for his back injury only made him hungrier to get back into action sooner, and she had noticed his condition improved vastly through eight weeks. He was still sad that his high school career ended prematurely, but he had seen with his own eyes that his techniques had sent the team all the way to the section finals. She did her best to comfort him, “Babe, I know it’s not the same. But it’s a different kind of thrill, isn’t it? You’ve still got your magic touch, just through all the other guys,” She shook his hand to get him to look into her eyes, “You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

“Oh, I know. Jerome said I was a student of the game. I guess no one can deny me that,” He squeezed her hand in comfort and they continued strolling. “Last time under the lights, though, it would’ve been nice to be out there. But I’ll survive on the bench.”

They arrived in front of the gym, where a couple of track runners were sitting and trying to settle down. The yellow team bus sat waiting in the parking lot. Todd Morris and R.J. Duarte were playing catch over in the nearby grassy patch, and David could hear the pop of their glove every so often. He looked at his watch, and noticed he didn’t have much time to waste.

“Well,” David said, “I’ll see you over there. Don’t miss me too much!”

He squeezed her hand again and began to walk toward the locker room as she raised her voice behind him, “You don’t miss me, either! And don’t get bored!” She waved as she walked toward her car, and he entered the building.

As he walked toward his locker, the magnitude of the moment finally hit him. This might be the last time I use this locker, he thought. He worked the lock and pulled it open noisily to see his uniform. This might be the last time I wear this jersey. He sat down on the bench in front of the lockers and slowly began to take his shoes off. If it was going to be the last time he’d ever be in here, he was going to savor it.

While he got dressed, the usual commotion came in and surrounded him. The players were loud and raucous, and David kept to himself as usual. Eventually, Jerome wandered over to him, dressed to play and raring to go.

They pounded knuckles before Jerome spoke, “It’s been a pleasure playing with you, Big D. Playing for you, too.”

David simply looked at his friend and nodded to himself. Jerome was disappointed that David wasn’t able to recover in time to share the outfield with him one last time, and he showed it in his face. The normally boisterous looks were replaced with dour ones, and he was unusually quiet. Jerome simply bobbed his head a couple of times before he walked away.

When he finished tying the laces on his cleats, he stood up and walked quietly out of the locker room. The few people that still remained gave him pats on the back and tributes to his immense amounts of dispensed advice. People outside the locker room and outside of the gym did the same, and some whooped and hollered in his name. When he flipped down his sunglasses to escape the sunlight, people cheered at what had become a virtual trademark. As he climbed into the bus, there was no choice but to have a big smile at the display of emotion for his possible farewell, and there was no way to simply deflect it all. If he wasn’t going to play his ass off, they were going to play their asses off for him.


* * *

The sun was nearly below the horizon as the game was set to begin. The huge light towers shone onto the field, but they weren’t yet able to really give the stadium a big-league feel; that would wait until nightfall. The grass was perfectly cut for the big event, and the infield dirt was not the least bit disturbed. The chalk lines down to left and right field were freshly applied. The metal bleachers were packed with rabid fans from both participating schools. It was a championship atmosphere, and as the first pitch was about to come around, Lopez took advantage of the electricity.

“WHO ARE WE?” “PATRIOTS!” “WHO ARE WE?” “PATRIOTS!” “WHY ARE WE HERE?” “WIN! WIN! WIN!” “GET OUT THERE AND WIN A CHAMPIONSHIP!”

The team went fully crazed at that point, jumping up and down in a frenzy, letting out a huge roar before sending the starting nine onto the field. The crowd went nuts at that, because it meant it was game time. As the pitcher, Nate Hasselbeck, warmed up to go, David walked with Lopez and the bench players back to the dugout. Once everyone was situated, David walked over to Lopez and poked fun at him.

“That’s gotta be the most excited I’ve ever seen you, Coach.”

Lopez looked at him, eyebrows raised and smiling, “Me? Never excited? Nahhhh. This is the first time I’ve been this far, I can’t help it.”

“I think it’s rubbing off on people,” David turned Lopez’s attention to Hasselbeck, who threw a warmup pitch two feet over R.J. Duarte’s head. He smirked a little, “He’ll be alright, though. He always has.”

Lopez snorted and chuckled. Then, he turned to David, “Have you ever considered just being a coach?” The first batter was announced over the PA as he stepped into the box and Hasselbeck wound and threw the first pitch for a called strike. The crowd cheered as Lopez went on, “If your back isn’t ever the same, I’d say you have future there, too. The guys love you for what you’ve done.”

David took the suggestion and thought about it briefly. Hasselbeck wound and threw another strike, which elicited another cheer. David kept his eye on the outfield as he answered, “I could tell. I like playing, but if it comes to that, I’ll definitely listen for offers. I might even be able to take over for you someday.”

Hasselbeck threw a third strike, sending the opponent back to the dugout. The crowd cheered, and Lopez nodded, “This is going to be a good game. I can tell already.”

Lopez was right. As night fell onto the field, Hasselbeck and the opposing pitcher dueled through six innings, neither team able to mount much of a threat. As zeroes were exchanged, the crowd began to get anxious to determine a winner.

After ending the seventh, Todd Morris came back to the dugout in disgust, having grounded out weakly to third base. He threw his helmet into the chain-link fence and sat down forcefully, frustrated at his performance. Something had to be done, or Todd would be taken completely out of the game and embarrassed further. Unconsciously, all eyes turned to David to change his rival’s fortunes. Rather willingly, David got up and walked over to the end of the bench where Todd sat grimly.

Without breaking his stare into space, Todd growled, “I don’t need or want your help, Dave. Go away.”

“Sorry, but I’m going to help you whether you want me to or not. Not unless you want Lopez to yank you from this game,” David could tell Todd was mulling his choices, “We’ve never been on good terms. . . but for God’s sake, let me help you out! You might just thank me later.”

Todd looked down, “Alright, then. Tell me what you have in mind, genius.” With the invitation, David sat down and detailed what he had envisioned. He couldn’t tell whether Todd was actually listening, but he hoped that his words would get through to him. As Todd got up to go warm up for the eighth, David yelled after him, “Just trust me!” David watched as Todd trotted out to third base and took a few grounders in a sour mood. It didn’t look like he had taken the advice, and David was sorely disappointed.

The eighth passed quickly, as two new pitchers had easily set down each of the three batters he faced and countered the opposing managers’ strategies. In the ninth, things began to fall apart. David could only watch as the opposition battered his pitcher for three runs and took the crowd out of the game.

By the time the team got three outs, confidence was completely deflated. The electricity among the players was completely gone, and many sat expressionless as their chance at glory seemed to slip away. David merely paced back and forth, desperate for some inspiration as they prepared for a last stand.

As the bottom of the lineup went to work, David walked over to Lopez again, “Just let them swing away. They can hit anything.”

Lopez pondered this for a moment, and soon signaled the batter, Richard Kelly, his decision. On the first pitch, Kelly ripped a fastball into the gap and was sliding into second base moments later. The crowd sensed action, and began to pick itself up again, the cheering becoming loud enough to once again be a factor. The next batter stepped up, and Lopez signaled again. Two pitches later, Kelly crossed home plate and the three-run lead was down to two. The pitcher stepped up and sacrificed the runner over to second, and then the runner came home on Jerome’s single. The lead was down to one.

Lopez, encouraged by the sudden turnaround, grew bolder with his moves. Jerome stole second, which forced the pitcher to walk the batter. Chris Ford popped up for the second out, bringing up R.J. Duarte, who drove the first pitch back up the middle and brought Jerome homeward. It was a tie game now, and David’s replacement in the lineup, Mike Lewis, was walked to load the bases for Todd.

David watched as Todd gripped his bat tightly and walked to the plate like a man with a mission. He took a glance at Lopez, who shared the same hopes that Todd had listened. The crowd, lively before the game had been retied, was near deafening with the chance for victory right in front of them.

The pitcher wiped beads of sweat off of his forehead as he turned to face Todd. David couldn’t tell who looked more determined: Todd wasn’t going to be humiliated again, and the pitcher was making sure that he was. As the pitcher set and threw, David could see Todd’s visible anxiety to get something done. The loud “PING” a second later threw the crowd to their feet, only to be disappointed at the left fielder’s reception of the fly ball at the warning track.

Todd’s face was visibly red as he walked back to the dugout, once again a failure. David could see that the season’s disappointments were becoming too much to bear, so he tried once again to calm him down.

“You almost had it. Shorten up the swing a little bit, and you’ll have no problems.”

“OH, SHUT UP, HARKINS!”

David stole a glance at Lopez, who seemed worried for his third baseman, but he silently acknowledged that he would stick with Todd. The game was going into extra innings, and the list of players still eligible to enter the game was growing thin. Lopez’s attempts to score runs earlier in the game had failed, so it was crucial that he didn’t waste anyone more than he was forced to.

The tenth inning came and went, as did the eleventh. Despite the late hour, only a few people had left the stands to go home, and the noise factor was still credible. In the top of the twelfth, the opposition pressured. Needing only one out and with runners at second and third, David and Lopez agreed to play shallow defense to avoid bunts. The pitcher, who had been in the game since the eighth, was clearly laboring and threw a pitch right down the middle that the batter managed to tag to left field.

Immediately, everyone jumped up from both benches to get a better view of the action. If it wasn’t caught, it meant two runs and another deficit to overcome. Mike Lewis, who had been playing shallow, ran full speed straight back to the wall to track the ball over his head. David, along with everyone else on the bench, could only watch and pray that Mike could come down with it.

Their prayers were answered. Mike waited until the last possible second to extend his glove and haul the ball in before retracting it and bracing for impact with the wall. He had too much momentum to simply stop, and so he had full impact with the cushioned panel of the outfield wall. The crowd cheered its approval, but the achievement was quickly overshadowed by the notice that he was in pain.

Lopez yelled to David and the players, “Stay here,” and ran out to the outfield to check on his defensive star. David could see that Mike was too hurt to keep playing, so he walked over to the lineup card to see who was left:

“MATTHEWS, ENDERBROOK, HARKINS”

He turned to Jerome, who was busy watching the commotion on the field, “Hey, JK, why am I on the lineup card?” Jerome turned and shrugged, and David beckoned him over to look at the lineup. “I thought Coach wasn’t going to risk playing me at all, even if we made the state playoffs.”

Jerome’s eyes grew wide as he saw “HARKINS” on the card, “Oh, damn, man, I have no idea. Maybe he was just trying to pull out all the stops. Even if you aren’t playing, they all still know who you are.”

Lopez trotted back into the dugout and noticed that David had seen the lineup card. He wasted no time on explanation, “David, you have to get up there for Mike this inning. He’s out with a bad shoulder problem and there’s no one else.”

This statement attracted immediate reaction. Everyone’s eyes turned to David, who simply walked to the middle of the dugout to grab a bat and a helmet. A few whoops and hollers emerged as David strolled back over to Jerome and Lopez. Finally, Lopez started explaining, “You’re due up third this inning, behind Chris and R.J. I really have no other choice, I’m hoping they’ll just walk you and get to Todd. . . He’s struggled, and they know it, but I think we can use that to our advantage.”

“Say no more. Take one for the team, they always say, right?” He flipped the helmet onto his head and began to move with the bat as Chris made his way to the batter’s box and R.J. moved over to the on-deck circle. As David sat with the bat between his legs, Jerome got his attention.

“Hey, Big D returns! Just so you know, your sexy mama’s sittin’ in the stands.”

David laughed, “Yeah, shut up, man. I know Christina’s here. She told me earlier.”

“Aww, nah, man! Your other sexy mama. Like, your mom,” David’s expression changed in front of Jerome, who merely laughed, “She caught me before the game and wanted me to tell you. . .” His voice switched to a female impersonation, “‘I’m so proud of you, honey! I always will be! Your friend Jerome is dead sexy. . .’”

“Hey, knock it off, man. That’s my mom you’re talking about,” David laughed. He turned his attention to Chris, who was busy being sent back his way after striking out, “Hey Chris, don’t worry, man! R.J. and I. . . and Todd, we’ll take care of it,” At hearing the mention of his name, Todd looked over to David, who was walking from behind the dugout as R.J. strolled to the plate. David didn’t notice Todd’s glance, but instead prepared for his at-bat.

As the crowd saw David emerge, they once again cheered like crazy. The hero was going to have a last hurrah, after all, and it energized David as he twirled the bat in his hands. He looked up into the stands to see Christina and his mom, side by side, beckoning for him to be careful with his injury. He gave a small salute and a blown kiss to each of them, and turned his attention to R.J., who smacked the ball to the second baseman for the second out.

When the PA announced his name, the face of the game changed. The pitcher, who had been completely dominant, paled as David walked to the plate. The opposing manager frantically moved to the edge of the dugout to send his players a signal. Immediately, the catcher raised his glove hand for an intentional walk. As the two battery mates played catch, the crowd booed the move and David stood prepared for any tricks.

No tricks came, only ball four. He tossed the bat over toward the dugout and trotted down to first base. Their fear was playing right into Lopez’s hands, and as Todd walked to the plate, David clapped to get his attention. When Todd looked, he took two fingers, pointed them at his eyes and then at Todd’s eyes. The third baseman merely dragged his bat on home plate before bringing it up to his shoulder.

David got a small lead off of first, and the pitcher delivered ball one. Todd had “win or bust” in his eyes, and as the pitcher threw ball two, he sniffed and took a step back to swing the bat around a little. The pitcher set and threw his third pitch and Todd turned on it.

As soon as the sound of the bat on ball was heard, there was no doubt that it would clear the left field fence. As it traveled, Todd flipped the bat away and walked toward first base, subtly satisfied. David had to refrain from expending too much energy, and merely jogged briskly around the bases. The entire team flooded out of the dugout and from the stands onto the field as the two rivals circled the bases. When David crossed home plate, he raised his fingers to the sky in remembrance of his past. Everyone took caution not to hurt him and simply gave him high-fives. He turned around to see Todd rounding third base, a fully content smirk on his face. When he stepped on home plate, he was mobbed by the team. David took off his batting helmet and laughed at the scene. Todd had always wanted to be the hero, and he finally got his chance, so David wondered if it what he had envisioned the moment to be. People yelled David’s name, and he saw that it was his two ladies that were approaching him.
Christina reached him first and gave him a kiss, then stepped aside so that his mom could give him a hug.

As the celebration unfolded around him, he spoke to them, “Well, who would’ve thought that I wouldn’t need to do a thing, huh?”

Christina piped up, “I didn’t!” His mom simply smiled and pinched his cheek, “Your dad would be so proud of you, sweetie.”

David was about to respond, but was interrupted by a soft fist in the back. He turned around to see Todd, still being mobbed by a couple of players. His rival adopted a smarmy smile, “So! The great David Harkins takes a freaking walk while I do all the dirty work. You know, I took your advice and it worked. And I hate you for that.”

Unexpectedly, Todd extended his hand. “Maybe you are for real, Dave,” he said, “We’d still be suffering through this game if I didn’t listen. How ‘bout that, huh?” David extended his own arm, and the two gripped in a firm handshake, “It’s going to be different next year without you, do you realize this?”

“Well, it’ll be different without the two of us. Who the hell is going to argue over everything?”

Todd smiled and scratched his head, “Ahhhh, walls really are falling down! You did well for yourself, and for us. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to celebrate heartily.” With that, he saluted farewell and walked off. David surveyed the excitement around Todd as he walked back into the crowd. This evening would never die.


* * *

“David? David? Could you come here for a second, sweetie?”

It was Saturday morning. David rolled over with hopes of escaping his mom’s pleas for him to wake up, but it didn’t work. Barf was sent in to lick his face, which always did the trick, and convinced him to get going for the day. He walked sluggishly out to the dining room, to see his mom. She sat at the table with a stern look on her face and a letter in her hand.

“David, could you explain this to me?”

Those words struck fear into David’s heart. Her tone didn’t help things, either; she seemed upset for some reason. He reached for the letter and glanced it over.

After a moment, he looked up with raised eyebrows, “Mom, this says that my free ride to Fresno State still stands if I choose them.”

She reached for another letter, “Okay, what about this one?”

He glanced over it, “This says the same thing for USC.”

She produced another letter, “And this one?”

The third letter was another commitment letter, this time from Cal. He let out a sigh and a lazy smile, “Okay. I get your point, Mom.”

She smiled, “Hon, go to college.”

He reached down and gave her a kiss on the cheek, “Yes, Mom.”

“That’s right. You listen to me because I’m your mom. You’re a student first and a professional baseball player second. Learning is the most important thing you can do. It’s what your dad would’ve wanted, too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

“You won’t have to worry about that for a few months, though. Right now, you need to worry about picking up Christina and going to do your. . . post-graduation thing.”

“Good idea. I’ll be back later this evening,” David went to pick up his car keys and walk to the front door. He waved goodbye as he shut the door. Everything he’d experienced in high school was behind him now. There was a summer of working to look forward to, but the future beyond that was too bright to tell. He pulled down his sunglasses as he climbed into his car and drove off.