Chapter 1

June 22, 2008

 

Maddi

            I smiled as I pivoted and shot the ball toward Chace on first.  No runner on Earth could have beaten that throw.  I was satisfied.  “Nice, Maddi, very nice,” Coach Foster said.  Coach Foster was Chace’s father and our select team’s head coach.  We were having our fourth practice within five days, but I didn’t really mind.  After all, we had a big tournament in less than two weeks.  The fact that the tournament began on the anniversary of Ryan’s shooting didn’t escape me, but that didn’t make me less eager to play.  In fact, I was even more driven to win it, for Ryan.

            Most of my girl friends couldn’t understand why I preferred playing baseball to hanging out in the mall.  They didn’t know how it felt to be part of a baseball team.  They couldn’t possibly comprehend the closeness, the bond between us.  My friend Sara, in particular, often asked me how I could bear to be on the diamond every waking minute.  Usually, I’d joke that it was obvious; after all, diamonds were a girl’s best friend!  She didn’t buy it.

            In fact, I wasn’t sure why I was always so relieved to get on a baseball field.  No, that was a lie.  I knew why; I just didn’t want to admit it.  I could almost feel Ryan’s presence whenever I took my place at shortstop.  If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine that he was standing at third base, just as he used to.  If I really stretched my imagination, I could just about hear him shouting, “Plays at one, plays at one!  That’s it!  You got him!”  Pitiful?  Maybe.  But I missed him so much, there was a constant ache in my heart.  It sometimes eased the pain to just pretend nothing had happened; he was still here.

            I was snapped out of my thoughts by Jake’s yell,

            “Turn two, infield, turn two!”  I closed my eyes briefly before returning my attention to Max, our catcher, who was batting.   Addison, our main utility man, was pitching. 

            “Come on, Ad!  Show him your heat, let’s go now,” Chace called. 

            I chimed in from short, “Show him what you got, boy, show him what you got!”  The familiar infield chatter rang across the diamond.  Ad went into a full windup and launched the ball at Ben, who was catching while Max hit.  Max swung and sent a ferocious chopper to my right.  Not an easy play, but not a hard one.  I backhanded it and threw the ball to Jake, waiting on second to turn two.  He gave as good as he got and sent the ball shooting into Chace’s waiting glove.

            Coach Foster applauded, “Beautiful play, infield.  That was hard hit, Max; Maddi just was positioned well.  Everybody in!  I need to talk to you.”

            We all jogged in laughing and energetic.  We were all real loose.  When we got to Coach Foster, we knelt around him.  He looked at us somberly.  “Kids, I have some bad news.  Dustin got into a car accident this afternoon.  He and his family are fine, just a little shaken up, but Dustin broke his arm.  He won’t be able to play in the Regional Tournament.”  This announcement was met by silence.  I glanced at Jake, who looked a bit anxious, and Chace; I couldn’t read the expression on his face.

            “Now, you all know we’ve been playing with only ten players for a while.”  Pain flickered across Coach’s face as he said those words.  “With Dustin out, that leaves us with nine, making us ineligible to play.  We can do one of two things.  We can drop out of the tournament, or we can try and find a replacement.” 

            This, too, was met by silence.  Finally, Jake said, “How can we find a replacement so quickly?  And we’ll need to get used to how he plays…”  I half smiled to myself, liking how Jake hadn’t for a moment considered dropping out of the tournament.  That was so Jake. 

            Coach looked at him.  “Well, we won’t have open tryouts.  That’ll take time; time we can’t afford to waste.  Do any of you know any kids your age who are reasonably good at baseball?”

            I bit my lip.  “Coach, isn’t there a rule that says we can’t add a player this far into a season?” 

            He replied, “There are exceptions, and the commissioner of the Regional Tourney knows me well.”  I nodded, accepting that. 

            Ad spoke up, “Coach, this kid moved down the street from me last week.  His name’s Zach, and he can throw and catch as well as any of us.  Want me to talk to him?”     Coach nodded and said enthusiastically, “Yes, Ad, that’s perfect.  Have a word with him and ask him to come out to practice tomorrow at five.  If we like what we see, I’ll talk to him and his parents.  How’s that sound?”

             Ben smiled mischievously; he was the prankster of the team.  “Sounds like fun, Coach.”

            Coach Foster said sternly, “Ben, none of your jokes tomorrow night.  We want the kid to want to play with us; we don’t want to scare him away.  Got it?” 

            Ben responded, “Yes, sir.” 

            “Good,” Coach said, “Now let’s wrap up practice.  Ad, count us in.”  Ad grinned and yelled, “One, two, three, RedHawks!”  We all joined in on ‘RedHawks’.  We were named for the Texas Ranger’s AAA team up in Oklahoma.  At first I hadn’t liked the name, but it had grown on me; after being on the RedHawks for more than four years, I couldn’t imagine playing on any other team.

            I headed over to my bag, packing it up. 

            “Hey, Maddi, can I have a ride?  Dad needs to run an errand.”  Chace was standing beside me. 

            I agreed, pointing out, “When can you ever not have a ride?”  Jake, packing his bag next to me, raised his eyebrow. 

            “You too,” I told him.  “Look, here’s my mom now.”  So the three of us walked off the practice field together, waving to our teammates.  The only thing that was missing was Ryan, and in his place was the grief that was my constant companion.

 

Chace

            Practice was over…  I was hot and sweaty and tired, and all I wanted to do was take a nice cold shower.  Summer baseball in Texas is no joke- we’re serious about winning, and the almost daily three hour practices prove that.  I’m not complaining; really I’m not.  I love baseball.  It’s what I’m good at, my niche.

            I play first base; I have since I was six.  I’ve gotten pretty good at it.  I know there’s a lot of kids that don’t like first base because they like shortstop or second base better.  They say there’s more action there.  Me, I like it here.  Maddi can have shortstop if she wants it, and Jake can take second.  I prefer the corners of the infield.  Yeah, I’ve given third base a try.  I have the arm for it, but what I really like is being on the receiving end of throws gunned from all over the infield.  Stretching for the ball, getting the out.  Occasionally robbing a double down the right field line.  That’s what I love.  And the great thing is, I’ve always been able to play first base.  I knew that my dad would put me wherever’s best for the team, and if the place was at short or third, I would have had to play there.  Lucky for me, once I got old enough to actually have one main position (I was ten), Maddi, Jake, and Ryan were beside me.  That was when I started playing select.

            We were a great infield.  We talked to each other, we backed each other up.  We understood each other perfectly.  Maddi and Jake were the best double-play combination my dad had ever seen.  Ryan had a rocket for an arm and was sure-handed.  And I was more than capable as a first baseman.  Dad built the team around us.  He looked for fast, powerful outfielders, a catcher, and a utility man or two.  He also looked for pitchers, because for a successful team, you need to have options for pitching.  Maddi, Jake, and Ryan could all pitch.  I was a failure at pitching.  The last time I pitched… Well, let’s just say that I’m no Johan Santana.

            Anyway, my dad built the team around the four of us.  Now that one of us is gone, does that mean the core of the team is irreversibly damaged?

 

Jake

            When I entered my house, it was silent.  “Mom,” I called.  “Dad?”  Neither answered, and it was nearly nine.  They should both be home by now.  I walked into the kitchen and flicked on some lights.  A yellow Post-it note on the fridge caught my attention.  I read,

            ‘Hey, honey.  Dad’s working late tonight and I’m going out with some of my friends.  There’s leftovers in the fridge for dinner.  Dad should be home by nine and I’ll try to be home before eleven.  Love ya, Mom’ 

            I sighed.  Another lonely dinner.  I knew I could call Chace or Maddi and ask to come over, but I didn’t want to butt into their family time. 

            I knew perfectly well that Dad was working overtime to get some extra money and that Mom was off getting drunk.  She doesn’t work Mondays, so undoubtedly tomorrow she’d be in bed with a hangover and a crappy mood.  It makes me mad sometimes, Dad working every day except Saturday so Mom can drink all the money away over the weekends.

            Opening the fridge, I found some leftovers that I stuck in the microwave for a few minutes.  Then I flopped onto the couch in the living room, turning on the TV and raising the volume.  As loud as the sound was, I still couldn’t quite manage to drown out the silence.

 

Author's Note

So... This is the next chapter.
Each day will get a chapter.

Reviews

[Tesh]

Again, good format, and I like the pace- not too fast, not too slow. I also like the info we're getting about Maddi, Jake, and Chase without info dumping.

"Usually, I'd joke that it was obvious; after all, diamonds were a girl's best friend! She didn't buy it." That's really cute. :D

I'm hoping for more physical descriptions of the characters too, just so I can picture them better. Keep going!

Tesh : )