Fast Baller

by Lulu Pratt

  This was a new feeling — of being alluring to many men at the same time was something most girls experience rarely, if at all, but I had never had this experience before, and so when I had actually gone out of my way to look good, it was great to be able to feel free and attractive. In a strange way, the feeling, which I had told people I didn’t care about — I mean, I was attractive enough, and so there was no need for me to run around trying to attract men I was not even attracted to — just no longer made sense. The name of the game was to get as many as possible, and I was free to be as sexual or as sensual as I wanted.

  I found myself in a crowd of about five or six young women dressed in cut-off jean shorts and white tank tops, long hair, and baseball caps, and about ten guys who must have been between eighteen and twenty-four, in sneakers, jeans, and dress shirts. And they were interested. I could feel the attraction many of these guys had for me, and I was really enjoying it.

  As the music pounded and I danced, one guy seemed to find me more interesting than anything or anyone else. He was a young man for sure, and he was attractive — short light brown hair, beautiful eyes, a very handsome face, and a body that would make most of us swoon. He danced closer and closer to me as the world swirled around me.

  I had never let myself go like this before, and I was starting to wonder what had been driving me for so many years. I had to work, I felt the need to support my mother from my earliest days… I realized, and today, for the first time ever, I was free. Free of lying men, free of responsibility — even if it was just for a few hours — and free to express my most primal desires.

  The young man put his arm around me and moved me to a corner where the music was slightly quieter. “Amazing night, huh?” he said, and his words sank into my brain like something I had been thirsting for all my life.

  “Tell me about it,” I responded.

  “How come I’ve never met you before?” he asked. “You are magnificent!”

  That was a word I hadn’t expected to hear. But it made me smile. “So are you!” I said, laughing.

  The song changed, and I noticed that the sample was familiar. It was from that composition that Harrison had playing that night in his bathroom.

  Suddenly everything that had been so magical about this night turned to reality, and not a good one. The beauty of the lights turned into prison searchlights, the music was too loud, and the stink of sweating, unwashed male flesh overpowered my nose. I was made aware that the world was not a beautiful place. It was filled with people who were pathetic and needy. I needed to get out of there, and I needed it right away.

  I ran through the crowd without looking back. I made it to the street without too much trouble, hailed a cab, and sat back to relax as I was hurtled through the streets of Toledo. It reminded me of some old song, but I was too drunk or too overstimulated to recall the name of it.

  I was at home by eleven, and I grabbed a glass of water and sat down in front of the TV. I knew the Detroit Diamonds were playing tonight, and wanted to know how Harrison had done. I had deliberately ignored everything about him for a while now, and it had not gone all that well. I had fun of course, but somehow it was empty, and nothing I could say or do would change the fact that I missed Harrison desperately.

  The game had ended, I realized, of course, and the Spark Plugs had won thirteen to one. Impressive. There was some post-game stuff on, and there, suddenly, was Harrison, being interviewed by the sports reporter in Detroit from ASTN. Just the sight of him, tired and sweaty from the game, was a comfort to me. I turned up the volume to see what he was saying.

  Chapter 45

  HARRISON

  “THAT WAS sensational!” said Chris to me as I sat in the press box after the game. I truly had given everything I had to that game, feeling that this was the last possible chance I had to prove that I was worth it. My mother had made it possible, I reasoned, by all she had done to try to get me to be with her. She was amazing!

  “Thanks, Chris. It was something I knew I had in me but couldn’t bring it out,” I said, looking into the camera for a few seconds.

  “What do you attribute this sudden power to? It was only a few months ago you had shoulder surgery, and were moved to the Minors and now, you have the fastest fastball in the league.”

  “I do?”

  “Of course. Tonight, they measured your speed and twice it was almost one hundred miles an hour. Nobody else has a fastball like that. Nobody ever has.”

  “Well, there was someone who had a hundred and five mile an hour fastball, but I’ll take it.”

  “Describe to us how you got your pitching arm back. I think viewers would want to know.”

  “Listen, in the last few months, I was sent to the Minors, and I learned a lot of lessons about myself and about baseball. Baseball is not a very forgiving game, and finding people who care about you as a person is even rarer. I want to tell you a story about one person who showed she cared in a way I have never experienced before.”

  “Go ahead! We’re all listening.”

  “In Toledo, where I was playing for the last few months—”

  “That’s right! Only yesterday, you were playing for the Toledo Spark Plugs—”

  “Monday, actually. Anyway, they have a physical therapist, Scarlet Ravenwood, who is not only the finest physical therapist I have ever met, but she also had a way of getting to the psychological barriers I had. And it was not just me. She helped the whole team. We were on fire for the last few weeks. I notice the winning stopped this week, though.”

  “I guess they are missing your fastball.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think that’s it. Here is what happened. They let her go. She had introduced us all to yoga, and her advice and her training that gradually helped all of us on the team to be the best players we could be. But they let her go, and here’s the thing, Chris, it was my fault.”

  “Your fault?”

  “It was. Scarlet Ravenwood is the most amazing woman I have ever met. I would say the most amazing person I have ever met. She is quiet but she is firm, she is small but she is fierce, and she is the most beautiful person I have ever met. I also happen to know that she loves baseball, and I truly believe the baseball world is the worse for losing her.”

  “That’s something. So, she—”

  “Is available. She is no longer working for the Toledo Spark Plugs, and that is their loss. But I want her in my life. And I want to hire her as my personal trainer. Scarlet, if you are listening — because I can’t call you — I want you to know that I love you and I want you to share my life with me. I had success tonight, but it would never have been possible without your support, your kindness, your tenderness, and your indomitable spirit. Even my mother, Oksana, agrees.”

  “Wow. That is some claim.”

  “And it is no exaggeration, Chris. She saved my life. She brought out all the baggage I have been carrying around for years, and she cleared it up. I believe I am the mature man she needs — or needed — in her life. I’m not saying I’m perfect, but I am saying she is. Scarlet, if you are listening, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for every little thing you did, even after you thought I had betrayed you, to help me. That is the sign of a great human being. You are a great human being and I am publicly saying to you, on national TV, that I want to marry you. I love you more than I have ever loved another, and I want you — no, I need you — to be with me. Please, Scarlet, if you are listening, call me and let me explain!”

  “Well, there you have it, folks. As the old saying goes, ‘behind every successful man, there’s a woman’.”

  At that exact moment, my phone rang. On national TV. “Jeez. that’s embarrassing,” I said. “Excuse me, do you mind if I take this?”

  “Go for it! Who knows, maybe it’s Scarlet Ravenwood, the miracle worker,” Chris grinned.

  “Hello?” I said, not noticing the number as I walked away.

  “What in the Sam Hill are you doin’? You’re making a damn fool of y
ourself!”

  “Who is this?”

  “This is your father.”

  “I need you to explain a few things,” I said.

  “Now, you listen here. Do you not know that this Scarlet Ravenwood is my daughter? You damn fool! Announcing you want to marry your own damn sister?”

  “Enough with the lies, Dad. Or should I say, Roger?”

  “What?”

  “Yes, Dad. Scarlet contacted Oksana, and I know what you did now. I know that you conspired to keep me away from my mother.”

  “Your mother was mentally ill.”

  “Was she? Or was she in love with someone other than you?”

  “Look, I don’t know what the heck you think you’re trying to pull, but you are my son and that is all there is to it. Who the heck do you think got you to where you are today?”

  “Are you seriously taking credit for that? Because I can answer that question, and it won’t be what you think.”

  “I can get rid of you in the blink of an eye.”

  “Are you threatening me for finding out the truth about my background? Scarlet Ravenwood is your daughter — I accept that — but she isn’t my sister, because you aren’t my father.”

  “The hell I ain’t!” he shouted into the phone.

  “Well, if you are firing me, you better have an ironclad reason, because I just walloped Boston, and everyone knows it is thanks to Scarlet now. Except maybe Scarlet.”

  “Listen. You really don’t want to open up all these old wounds, son.” His voice was a sort of mockery of a caring parent. “I did what I needed to do, and things happened, but who among us is perfect?”

  “You’re right about that. Listen, Roger, I am not interested in blaming you or anyone else for what happened. But I want to meet my mother, and I want to marry Scarlet, and I am not asking your permission for either of these things.”

  “I can’t allow that.”

  “You literally can’t stop me.”

  “The hell I can’t!”

  “Roger, I want to stay on good terms. You still own the team I play for, and although I’m kind of sick of being told it is because of you that I can play at all, I am going to do my best for the team, and for you. I know you had to deal with crazy times, and I am grateful for all you have done for me. I just want to meet Mom. That’s all. And I want to know what happened to my real father.”

  “That, I can’t help you with, Harrison. I truly do not know.”

  “Well, we’ll figure it out. In the meantime, I am going to go home and have a shower. Thanks for calling.”

  “Wait, I have something else I need to say—”

  I hung up. Didn’t want the line to be in use.

  And I did go home. And I did hope beyond hope that Scarlet had seen that broadcast. It was important to me, and I really needed to let her know that I appreciated her more than anything.

  In my apartment by the lake, I opened a can of beans because there was nothing else there. I hadn’t had time to go shopping yet, and the place needed a thorough cleaning. But there were sheets on the bed, and I wanted nothing more than to be in there, sleeping in my own bed after all the madness.

  No. That wasn’t true. I wanted Scarlet more than anything. I dialed her number, but I was still blocked. Oh well. The grand gesture fell on deaf ears. It happened. In real life. Not in the movies. And I wished so much I could be a movie baseball player and not a real life one where shitty things happen. But the truth was, despite the power I now had in my arm, I had given everything.

  So, when I finally hit the hay, I passed out cold. There was nothing further I could do, and I knew it. I had done the most I could do, and I had been blamed for it, and Scarlet still wouldn’t believe me. So, sleep came to me, just as the city of Detroit was celebrating the victory I had given them and dedicated to Scarlet Ravenwood.

  In the early light of morning, the ceiling appeared to me, with lights flashing across it from the cars that were still driving by. Detroit never sleeps — and when it is awake, people drive. Everyone drives. It was Motor City, after all. But that was not what woke me up. My phone was set to announce when a number I did not know called, and that was what was happening at this moment. And the phone was right by my ear, but it was so dark to my unaccustomed eyes, that I could not at first find it. It kept ringing this bizarre ring reminiscent of a siren. Cops? Fire? Injury? Who knew? All I really knew was that things were not normal. I picked the phone up, and touched the button, putting it to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Harrison Brett?” Jesus, a fan calling to say ‘good game.’ Be on your best behavior!

  “Yes, this is he.”

  “Oh, my! I’m a little worried I woke you.”

  I looked at the clock. It was five-twenty in the morning. “Well, it’s pretty late or early.”

  “Well, I’m terribly sorry. If I did wake you, I apologize. It’s only that I needed to talk to you.”

  “Well, that’s the general reason why people call.”

  “Oh, why yes, I suppose it is. Well, in any case, my name is Betty. Betty Ravenwood. You probably don’t remember me.”

  “You’re Scarlet’s mother. My nanny for a time. Am I getting warm?”

  “Very. That’s me all right. Now, tell me this, do you also know why I’m calling?”

  “That’s where the mystery begins. Why are you calling me?”

  “Why, I’ll tell you. I watched the baseball game tonight and I must say I really enjoyed your game.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “But your interview afterward was the reason I had to talk to you.”

  “Interview?” I was still foggy.

  “Yes. On ASTN. It was astonishing.”

  “Oh yeah, thanks.”

  “Well, your father gave me your number, and so I wanted to call. He just left here and so I didn’t have a chance before.”

  I shook my head at the news that Roger had been over at Scarlet’s mom’s place, but decided to push on with why she was calling me at this ungodly time instead of why she’d been up all night with my dad.

  “Okay. Now, Mrs. Ravenwood, can you please tell me why you are calling me at five in the morning?”

  “Well, it is just that I know Scarlet loves you, and I don’t want you to think she doesn’t.”

  “Okay. Well, thanks for your opinion, but she has still got my number blocked, so I’m not sure you’re right. Anyway, I am very tired, Mrs. Ravenwood, and I need to sleep, so I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  “Oh. Well, okay. I just needed to say that. Sorry to disturb you.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “By the way, do you remember me?”

  “Very vaguely,” I said. As I might have mentioned, I didn’t recall much of my early childhood.

  “Not since you were knee high to a grasshopper, but yes. When you were three years old I was your nanny. And I must tell you, you were special even then.”

  “Well, thanks a lot.”

  “I always had a feeling you’d be famous someday.”

  “I really need to sleep, Mrs. Ravenwood.”

  “Please don’t hold what I did against my daughter.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was not a good person back then. I admit I had an affair with your father.”

  “Just so you know, he is not my father.”

  “Well, you know what I mean.”

  “Not entirely.”

  “I just mean, I guess I sort of broke up your family. But Roger was so unhappy, and Oksana, well, she was a child, and I just felt someone needed to take the bull by the horns…”

  “That might not be the best choice of words,” I chuckled. “But honestly, I don’t hold it against Scarlet. I don’t even hold it against you. We all make mistakes. It’s fine.”

  “Really?”

  “I mean it. Now please, Mrs. Ravenwood, let me sleep.”

  “I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

  “Good night.”


  Chapter 46

  SCARLET

  IT WAS SEVEN in the morning, and I had fallen asleep in the chair in front of the TV. Some international gymnastics championship was playing, and I was terribly disoriented. I was still dressed. I was woken up by some strange noises coming from the road outside. At first, I assumed it was the garbage truck, but it being Saturday, garbage was not being picked up. Shaking my head, I got up and went to the front window. I couldn’t see a thing. The road seemed to be clear in front of me. I looked up and down the street and there was nothing but a raccoon waddling across the street about a hundred yards away and a jogger on the sidewalk.

  And then, out of nowhere, a knock at the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was a loud knock, like the kind you get when a state trooper is knocking to tell you about a wreck on the highway involving a loved one. So, of course, I was terrified.

  I made my way to the door and looked through the peephole, but it was too dark to see who it was. All I saw was a hulking figure standing there. My first thought, the thought about the state trooper, was soon replaced by the idea that maybe some very polite burglar was trying to alert me to his presence before he robbed me.

  “Who’s there?” I said timidly, not wanting to wake the neighbors.

  “It’s me, Harrison,” said a familiar voice.

  “Harrison?” I said. I was truly shocked. “What do you want?”

  “May I come in please?” he said.

  “Do you know what time it is?”

  “Five past seven,” he said. Well, he was right about that.

  “Kinda early,” I said.

  “Scarlet, this is my last resort. Please, let me in so I can state my case.”

  I had already opened the door by the time he had finished his sentence. He stood there in the doorway, his eyes down, his head hanging a little. He looked exhausted, but he also looked gorgeous. I took his hand in mine, and put it on my heart. He looked up. I nodded.

  “Did you…”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you think?”