In the Light of Day

by BobA. Troutt

In the Light of Day

  Bobby A. Troutt

  Copyright 2016 by Bobby A. Troutt

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  Table of Contents

  Slightly Bent

  Sugar Creek

  Hit and Run

  The Undertaker

  The Counselor

  The Black Book

  In the Bite of Winter

  Sunset Motel

  Jones Street

  *****

  In the Light of Day

  Slightly Bent

  In the hollows and hills of Hickman County in Middle Tennessee was the small, quiet community of Walnut Creek nestled between the Cumberland Plateau and the Cumberland River. Walnut Creek was home to a young boy named Hubert Emmitt; he lived on Broken Fence Road. Hubert was tall for his age at a slinky six feet four inches. His hair was dark and wavy; it flowed like a flag on a windy day. When he walked, he tilted from side to side in harmony with his steps. Hubert’s hands dangled down to the pockets of the overalls he always wore. He was a gentle giant and had a humble childlike manner. About the only thing that excited him was his love of playing baseball. Everyone around Walnut Creek called him Slightly Bent. His classmates at school were first to tease him because he was born with a hump on his back. It was right between his shoulders which caused him to lean forward. In other words, slightly bent. But, he was a goodhearted soul and never paid any attention to what others said. Hubert was a happy-go-lucky boy with the dream of playing professional baseball when he grew up.

  His neighbors on Broken Fence Road were poor. They were farmers who raised milk cows, vegetable gardens, tobacco and corn. They sold eggs and fresh vegetables to nearby markets. In the winter, they killed hogs and sold country smoked ham, fresh tenderloin, shoulder meat, homemade sausage and sliced bacon; people came from neighboring counties to buy the quality meats. Walnut Creek was no more than a stop and a turn in the road but it was Hubert’s home.

  Hubert lived in a three-room shack. It was constructed of grayish boards, a tin roof and windows with no screens. Cardboard covered walls, a pot-bellied stove and a single bed decorated the inside. In the winter, Hubert would cover up with old coats at night to protect him from the snow that fell through the holes in the roof. He had to draw his water from a well. In the summer, he put jugs of milk and other items in the spring to keep them cool. He and his sister, Rebecca, lived with their grandmother after they lost their parents in a freak accident. They didn’t have much but they had each other.

  Hubert loved the outdoors, even in the winter. Hubert along with his sister and some friends would take an old car hood and use it as a sled to slide down the snow covered hills. They would also make snowmen, throw snowballs and ice skate on the pond. Once, when they were skating on the pond, Rebecca, everyone called her Becky, skated on some thin ice and fell into the pond. Hubert and the others ran to the bank of the pond. He found a tree limb nearby and held it out to her a she struggled to stay afloat.

  “Hold on Becky, hold on!” he shouted as he pulled her out of the pond.

  Just as he was pulling her out, Big Jim came by with a wagon load of wood. He had been cutting timber when he heard the commotion at the pond. Quickly, he jumped from the wagon and ran over to help them. He wrapped his dry coat around Becky, placed her in his wagon and left hurriedly to get her some help. It was so cold that day the icy wind froze the moisture in their nostrils as they breathed. If Big Jim hadn’t taken Becky down to a neighbor’s house in his wagon she probably wouldn’t have survived.

  Not all winters were that bad. Most of the time Hubert rode his mule, Mr. Gibbs, everywhere he went and always hung a grass sack off to one side to collect the squirrels and rabbits he hunted; he loved to hunt squirrels and rabbits. However, the majority of his time was spent with his best friend and running partner, an old grayish black and blue-ticked hound name Smoke. When he finished hunting for the day, he would go home and enjoy fried rabbit, gravy and biscuits or squirrel and dumplings, whichever his grandmother would fix, with a cold glass of fresh cow’s milk and churned butter.

  Although he stayed to himself most of the time, Hubert also enjoyed spending time with friends. He spent time collecting baseball cards and newspaper clippings of his favorite sport in the world, baseball; he loved the sport! He constantly dreamed of becoming a professional baseball player. With his knack for the sport, he was sure there was no limit to how far he could go with the right coaching! In the bottom pasture, Hubert spent time pitching up stones to see how far he could hit them with a big stick. The bottom pasture became his baseball stadium in the summer. Hubert and his friends would team up and play ball. Summers were too short for the kids. But, no matter how short the season, Hubert never lost his love for the game or his talent. He was good at baseball and he knew it.

  At seventeen, Hubert started to walk with a slight shuffle but it didn’t keep him from wanting to follow his dream of playing baseball. He was still full of spunk and life. He was going to be ready when the opportunity came knocking in Walnut Creek. His chance at living his dream was closer to coming true when Mr. Fields Pedigo came to town to start a summer baseball league; everyone along with Hubert was so excited. Children from Walnut Creek and beyond came to Hubert’s pasture that summer to tryout. The old cow pasture was alive with kids. Mr. Fields and the other coaches had them to lineup to hit so he could see how they swung the bat, how they threw the ball and how well they could catch the ball. Hubert could throw, hit and catch because he was a natural. When he fielded the ball, he was precise. Mr. Pedigo watched him closely. He knew there was something special about the slightly bent young man because he had an eye for raw talent. With a little polishing, Hubert would be a real ballplayer. Mr. Pedigo watched Hubert as he batted at the plate. His eyes were focused and serious and his stance was firm and solid. He noticed that Hubert bent over the plate where he could hit the ball with the bat and drive it hard across the field for a homerun.

  “Hey, Hubert!” yelled Mr. Pedigo loud enough for Hubert and just about everyone else to hear.

  Quickly, Hubert turned and saw Mr. Pedigo motioning for him to come over to see him.

  “You’re a pretty snazzy ballplayer,” he said as he took off his cap and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

  “Well, I’m not too bad a player,” Hubert answered.

  “Not too bad,” Mr. Pedigo replied. “I think you have potential, son. Have you ever played ball on a summer league team before?”

  “No, sir,” he told him as he wiped at the sweet running down his face.

  Mr. Pedigo reached over, patted him on the back and said, “You keep up the good work and have fun. I’ve got a feeling there will be some important people watching you this summer.”

  After the tryouts, the boys were divided in to teams. There was Bon Air, Sideview, Mitchville, Providence, Pondville and Mr. Pedigo’s team, Walnut Creek. Bon Air was scheduled to play Pondville on Friday followed by Mitchville and Walnut Creek on Saturday. Slightly Bent was on his way to living his dream. No one remembered the Bon Air and Pondville game but everyone knew that Walnut Creek beat Mitchville because Hubert had three RBI’s and hit two homeruns!

  “It’s going to be a good season,” predicted one of the scouts.

  “A very interesting season,” replied another.

  Game after game, the crowd cheered for Slightly Bent. Hit after hit and run after run, he drove the team up the ladder to first place. The game against Providence was a no-hitter.
They beat Bon Air 8-3 and Pondville 10-3.

  “Where did you ever run across a player like that?” a scout asked Mr. Pedigo.

  “Who, Hubert? He’s been here all his life,” replied Mr. Pedigo. “He’s a good, solid boy who loves the game!”

  As the summer slowly passed, Slightly Bent became well-known across the country. People drove for miles to watch him play. The people cheered as Hubert drove home his teammates with hit after hit. With Hubert playing some of the best baseball Mr. Pedigo had seen in quite some time, he asked a coach from a nearby college to come take a look at him. Hubert’s eyes sparkled like crystals and his laughter was that of a songbird in spring when Mr. Pedigo told him the coach would be coming to see him. Hubert could not be happier.

  The summer heat was almost unbearable and there was not enough rain to wet the parched, dry ground. The baseball field in the old cow pasture had basically became dust. However, there was only one game left and that was the championship game between Walnut Creek and Bon Air. It was what Slightly Bent had dreamed about all his young life. He would be playing in the championship game and he was somebody; he wasn’t just a poor kid from Broken Fence Road. He had found his place in the world and he wanted to win this one championship about as much as he wanted to play professional baseball.

  The big day finally came for the championship game. People came and brought chairs, picnic baskets, hot dogs, hamburgers, ice-cold lemonade and garden-fresh watermelons. The newly-built bleachers along the baselines were filled with fans. At last, they heard the two words they were waiting to hear.

  “Play ball!” yelled the announcer.

  “Slightly Bent, Slightly Bent, Slightly Bent,” they all chanted.

  “I’d like to welcome everyone here today to see the championship game between two of the best teams I have seen in many years,” the announcer stated. “I will have to say, Slightly Bent, one of the most favored players here, today, will show us how it’s done!”

  The crowd cheered for five minutes before the announcer and coaches were able to get control of the situation.

  “We have been fortunate to see him play in other games this season and he is a remarkable talent. I know the scouts will be watching him closely today,” he said as Walnut Creek took the field. “The pitcher for Walnut Creek is a fine talent himself. He pitched nine out of twelve games this summer. This country boy has a fine arm.”

  “Strike one,” growled the umpire.

  The game was on and in the bottom of the third, Walnut Creek had two runs and Bon Air had one. Hubert took his stance at the plate with two players on base. The crowd was silent and not one eye blinked. You could hear the ball in the wind and then the crack of the bat. It was a line drive that allowed the two players to make it home.

  “What a hit!” the announcer yelled.

  Bon Air was no competition for Walnut Creek. Walnut Creek won the game eight to one. Walnut Creek was the County Summer Classic champions. There were trophies and ribbons for all the Walnut Creek players. Hubert was so happy he was light-headed. After celebrating with his team, Hubert climbed up on Mr. Gibbs, his mule, to head home when a couple of scouts asked him to try out for the minor league the next week. They told him he was the best rookie they had seen in years. Hubert assured them he would be at the minor league tryout. Even though they had noticed the little shuffle of his feet, they didn’t question him about it because he was such a great player. As they waved goodbye, Hubert hurriedly took off for home. He was hoping to get his chores done before nightfall. He also couldn’t wait to tell his grandmother and sister Walnut Creek had won the championship game. As he prodded Mr. Gibbs to go faster, a rattler spooked the mule and he started bucking down the road.

  “Whoa, boy, now,” Hubert cried.

  He fought to hold on while Mr. Gibbs bucked about wildly but he couldn’t. Hubert was thrown off and knocked out. When Hubert awoke, the mule was standing beside him. He tried to get up but could not move his legs. He tried and tried before he yelled for help. Mr. Gibbs ran away, leaving him stranded in the woods. The only thing he knew to do was pray.

  “Help me, oh, Lord,” he cried. “Please help me!”

  There was no answer. As a late summer breeze stirred the leaves on the trees, his cries echoed through the woods. Some young boys playing nearby heard him and ran to help.

  “Wow! It’s Slightly Bent,” one said.

  A couple of the boys stayed with Hubert as a third ran for help. Within ten minutes or so, two men, who worked at the sawmill, came back with the boy. They could not believe what they saw.

  “What happened here, Hubert?” they asked.

  “I was bucked off old Mr. Gibbs and I can’t move my legs,” he told them weakly.

  “Don’t worry, Hubert, we’ll get you to the hospital as fast as we can!” they assured him.

  After a week in the hospital and after a number of tests and examinations, the doctors gave him the worst news possible for a young man.

  “We’re sorry but you are paralyzed from the waist down, Hubert.”

  As the doctors stood around his bed, his eyes filled with tears and he turned his head to the wall. After the doctors left the room, Hubert realized he would never walk again and that meant he would never play baseball again.

  Seeing the doctors leave, Coach Pedigo and a small group of teammates went to Slightly Bent’s bedside and asked if everything was alright but he was in no mood for guests.

  “Leave me alone,” he mumbled.

  “Do you want us to pray for you?” Coach asked quietly.

  “No! I want you to go away and let me die!” Slightly Bent shouted.

  “Come on, boys. He needs to get some rest. We’ll come back to see him later,” Coach Pedigo instructed. “We’re praying for you, Hubert,” Coach Pedigo said as they left the room

  “I love you Slightly Bent,” one of the little boys said from the hallway.

  Hubert never answered. Mixed up, hurt and still in shock, he just laid in the bed and cried. All his hopes and dreams were shattered; his spirit was as broken as his body. God, why? he said to himself before he finally fell asleep.

  Coaches, team members and fans from miles around waited for word on Slightly Bent’s condition. Prayers went out in the hundreds for the ballplayer they loved.

  It wasn’t long before he was released to go home. Sitting in his wheelchair, his empty heart was as numb as his legs. He felt life had cheated him out of a chance to be somebody and he thought even God had failed him. Being paralyzed, he knew it was going to be a daily struggle to do anything. His bitterness against God kept his spirit dark and he had no interest to carry on with his life in the outside world; he became a recluse. His friends came by to try to cheer him up and encourage him. They constantly told him to keep his hopes and dreams alive. But, it didn’t do any good. Becky helped as much as she could to help him adjust to his handicap. However, the more she tried the more he rebelled and shied away from her. To make matters worse, his grandmother died shortly after he was released from the hospital so he had plenty of excuses to give up and have no hope or faith. He felt life was more than unfair to him and it was downright not worth living. Every day, he asked God why.

  Months passed and eventually visitors stopped coming to see Hubert. His sister was the only one still there for him. She stayed by his side and never left him. Years passed and there was no improvement in his condition but his spirit began to shine a little. He had days when he held his head up and opened up some to Becky. Once in a while, he even smiled. He blamed God less and began to think more about his future.

  With Hubert improving, Becky began to work at a clinic for handicapped children so she could learn as much as she could about her brother’s condition. She had only been working a couple of days when she met a little boy who loved baseball with the enthusiasm Hubert did before he had his accident. His name was David and he believed with all his little heart, despite
being in a wheelchair, he would walk and play ball one day. When he learned Slightly Bent was her brother, he begged her to take him to meet him.

  “Oh, David, I don’t know,” she hesitated. “He doesn’t see too many people these days.”

  “Please,” he begged. “I have heard so much about him. He is my favorite baseball player in the world. I want his autograph.”

  David’s eyes gleamed as he thought about meeting his hero. Becky looked from his baseball cap to the ball and glove in his lap and knew he was sincere. She began to consider his request but she knew she had to check with Hubert first.

  “Okay, David, I’ll call and ask him if you can visit. If it’s okay with Hubert and your doctor, I’ll take you to see him.”

  Hubert and David’s doctor both said it was okay for him to visit. That afternoon, Becky took David home with her. She couldn’t help but notice what a small, frail little boy he was. I hope this isn’t a mistake for both of them, she thought as she helped David inside the house to see Hubert.

  “You have a nice house, Becky. Wow, look at those trophies! That’s neat,” he said. “When I grow up I want to have a lot of trophies like that. I want to be like Slightly Bent.”

  Becky knocked on her brother’s door and prayed he was in a good mood. She told him someone had come to see him but he didn’t want to see anyone. Becky insisted it would do him good and plus he had said it was okay for David to visit.

  David opened the door to Hubert’s room and asked in an awed whisper, “Can I come in?”

  Hubert’s wheelchair popped and squeaked as he turned his back on the child.

  “Oh, God, why me?” he muttered.

  “I used to ask that all the time,” replied David in a wee voice. “I never got the chance to play like you did, Slightly Bent. I was born crippled so I never walked or ran. I may have this old chair and two bad legs but I still have a love for life and baseball. I struck out the day I was born but I didn’t give up or give in. I gave it all to God.”

  “What do you want from me?” Hubert asked.

  “I just wanted to meet you and get you to autograph my baseball. That’s all.”

  “You have heard of me?” he asked as he slowly turned the wheelchair to face the boy. “But you are so young, just a child.”

  “All the children have heard of you, Slightly Bent. You are our hero,” he said.

  “But…but I’m a cripple. I don’t understand,” Hubert stammered.

  “You may be cripple but you are still Slightly Bent, a great baseball player that I will always look up to. We are both crippled but we still love baseball, life and God, right?”

  The chill that filled Hubert’s room and his heart suddenly thawed. The warmth began to awaken him with a newness of the spirit he was once familiar with. He looked around for the boy, David, but he was not there. That’s when he realized he was clutching a baseball in his hand. It was inscribe with the words To Slightly Bent, from David. Suddenly, tears filled his eyes.

  “I am sorry, Lord!”

  “Hubert, I’m home,” Becky said as she entered the house.

  “Where is he?” Hubert asked when she went in his room to check on him.

  “Where is who, Hubert?” she asked.

  “David, the boy in the wheelchair you brought home from work.”

  “What in the world are you talking about? No one came home from work with me.”

  “But…but I saw and talked to him. He was here in my room,” he explained.

  “You’ve been sleeping too much, Hubert.”

  From that day forward, Hubert let the darkness slip away from his heart and thoughts. He let go of the anger he had with God and man. He also felt bad for taking Becky for granted and realized how good of a sister she had been to him. His eyes were no longer filled with a haunted and depressed look. Instead, they were bright with light and merriment. He was quickly turning back to his old self and was finally ready to get back into society. He never dreamed there were so many opportunities available for a handicapped person if they allowed the doors to be opened to them. Becky got him a job at the clinic as a P.E. coach. He taught the basic fundamentals of sports and sportsmanship. It may not have been the major league but it sure did hit the spot for Hubert. He was happy again. He also coached the little league team sponsored by the clinic. He coached them to many victories and taught them how to overcome defeat.

  One day at practice a little boy walked over to him on the field and said, “I want to be just like you, Slightly Bent, a great baseball player. Will you sign my ball?”

  Hubert took the ball from his tiny hand to sign it.

  “By the way, what is your name?” he asked while he was signing the ball.

  “David,” smiled the little boy. “Thanks, Slightly Bent,” he said as he hugged him and then ran off to play ball.

  I wonder, thought Hubert. Naw, it can’t be. Can it? The well-known player from Walnut Creek died of heart failure a few years after that. He went peacefully and left behind a host of fans and friends. He left his trophies to a little boy named David. His last words were play ball.