‘WACK’ He hits the ball, it flies across the field. He runs to first base, second and then finally third!
He made an in park home run!! I cheer, feeling so proud.
After that, we have the whole team, plus some of the coaches looking to us for encouragement, to tune out all the negative reactions from the others.
Why do some adults, act as young as their children, if not younger? These are kids for heaven’s sake, let them be kids.
When we are almost at the ten run limit, giving us an automatic win, Coach Lex pulls out little Seth, the tension from the others pull like a thin rubber band stretched to its limit. One of the snooty tee ball moms, who glared at me earlier, hops out of her seat and stomps her perfectly size two body up to the dugout.
“Coach Lex, a word please?” Her snotty, nasally tone grates on my nerves. I cringe when Coach Lex looks at her, frowns then dismissed her with his hand without a glance.
“Not now Mrs. Newman, can’t you see we are playing a game?” He keeps looking at the field, not paying her much attention.
“Then why did you take Seth out, he is leagues better than any of these guys.” She loudly proclaims pointing to all the boys. Seth’s ears turn pink with embarrassment.
“Moooom,” Seth tries to stop her.
“Hush up Seth let Mommy take care of this. Coach Lex we pay you to coach our kids to do the best, now I demand you put Seth back in. Now.” She huffs, cocking her hip out and firmly planting her manicured hand on it.
Still not looking at her he replies, “Mrs. Newman, as you can see we are winning, and I make sure all of our players get even time on the field. Now if you don’t take your seat I am going to have to ask you to leave the field because you are causing a disturbance.”
“Are you threatening me Coach Lex?”
There went that snap.
Mrs. Newman said it loud enough even her husband heard it from all the way to their seats. Next thing I know, he is standing in front of Coach Lex with his shirt gripped tightly in his hand, spiting obscenities in his face. I step down from my seat and rush towards the back of the dugout waving the kids to get out and away from the confrontation.
They don’t need see this.
Around this time the umpire guy must have heard the commotion and has now joined in the fray.
I do a head check to make sure all but the batters on field are here, and by the time I look back up, I see Coach Lex maneuvering out of Mr. Newman’s grasp in one swift movement. Unfortunately, because the act was so sudden, the punch which was aimed at the coach ended up landing on the umpire’s jaw instead.
Well, shit has officially hit the fan.
An influx of parents starts to race from the stands, all intent to join in with the fighting and quick to choose their sides. I squeeze through the hair pulling, scratching, kicking and flying fists. Shoving bodies out my way, I stare straight ahead. My only intent is to get on the field and scoop Lyon up in my arms and protect him.
“Aunt Dill what is going on?” Lyon asks once I reach him. I bend down and encased him in my arms, breathing heavily while looking for a way out. It seems the visiting team is just as worked up as our team, because moms are taking off their shoes and pelting people with them. I must have been hit in the head with something when trying to get to Lyon. I reach a hand to my forehead. I wince, it comes away sticky with blood. I look up and witness in horror, a particularly heavy-set woman pushing a mom over the guard rail of the bleachers like she weighed nothing.
What the hell is going on? It’s utter chaos!
I let go of Lyon, once I’m finally sure he is ok and take look around. I quickly wipe the blood of my forehead on my cardigan then promptly wipe my hand on my shorts so he doesn’t see it. Luckily the cut is small so my hair can cover it for now.
I give up trying to look for an escape and call more of the players on the field with us, I couldn’t give a damn if they were from our team or not. They just need to be protected.
Once I have everyone on the field around me, I keep hugging and touching each child trying to calm them down and reassure that things will be ok. I look up again and notice Tucker and Connor still at the top of the bleachers with looks of utter shock on their faces, each talking into their phones.
Well, they couldn’t say I didn’t warn them. But at the time, this wasn’t what I had meant.
What the hell is going on?
The more I try to figure it out the more my body begins to flush and tingle. Why in the hell am I tingling again now?
CHAPTER SEVEN
“When will this nightmare end?” – Tucker
Tucker
“Yes, thank you.” I jump back quickly as a woman goes over the railing. I wince. I should have tried harder to prevent that. I look over; luckily it isn’t too big of a drop. I see her limping away with a few cuts and scratches, staring daggers at me as if I was the one to have pushed her. I shake my head.
Fricking Lunatics!
I end my phone call just as Conner ends his.
“The police are on their way; can’t you do anything till then?” Connor has to shout over the roar of the crowd. He looks on bewildered. I try to focus my energy on connecting with people’s spiritual essence then calming them down. I have already built up a hefty sweat for my efforts. I run a hand through my hair, agitated.
“DAMN IT! I’m trying Connor, but every single time I settle a few down they just gear back up as soon as I let them go. I can’t maintain everyone’s rage on my own.” I try to explain for what feels like the hundredth time to Connor, since he has asked me around that amount and more.
“What are we going to do?” He looks at me, his pupils dilated.
“Charlie is on the night shift at the force, he is patrolling the neighborhood a few blocks over as we speak. He said he will help and come assist me.” I sigh in somewhat relief, thankful in this moment for another Spirit controller to be living so close by.
Why am I tingling? Why does my skin feel like it’s about to burn off? Oh my gosh, what’s happening to me?
Dillon’s inner monologue starts running through the alliance; I groan as it severs ties I had to a particularly feisty red head who’s been trying to scratch another mom’s face off. I wish I was exaggerating but that was her spirits’ intent.
“Hey Tuck? Did you hear that?” Connor asks, his normally positive voice holds wariness to it that my subconscious doesn’t like at all.
“Yeah I did.” I acknowledge him.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this.” He confesses.
Oh no! We all know to listen to Connor when he has his gut feelings.
“What do you mean? Con, talk to me.” I grip his arm, feeling a little frantic now that he’s blocked me out, retreating to the corner of his thoughts I can’t get to.
“Connor!” I shout and break his thought process.
“I don’t’ know, okay! Whatever it is, it’s not good” He shouts just as loud to me, not like it makes much difference in this loud hell hole. I take a calming breath and open myself up to him, feeling his unease. It ripples through my own body, hairs on the back on my neck stand on end. I look at him wide eyed, deciding to ditch my efforts on the crowd; not like it’s been doing much, and leak some calm sensations to him.
“It’s going to be okay Connor; we will get this sorted soon.” I try my best to reassure him.
“I don’t know Tuck, something feels really off. There is crawling on my skin like a presence making its self known. The longer they keep fighting, the worse it’s becoming. Can’t you feel it?” He turns his questioning gaze my way.
Oh no no no, it hurts.
Dillon’s whimper breaks our concentration again.
What now?
I suddenly get a tidal wave of what feels like static electricity crawling among my skin. That doesn’t disturb me as much as the ominous feeling that crashes through my barriers and sudden weakness. I stumble backwards.
Shit! I don’t feel so well.
> I blink my eyes blurry. Connor is right, something is about to happen and it won’t be good.
He must have realized that I understand, and something is wrong with me because he frowns, reaching out to me. He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t get the chance.
A loud crash reverberates from where we are standing. We rush over and grip the railing for support. Few people are not so lucky and have fall down, screaming. Some are tumbling down the bleachers, knocking into others like bowling balls. They fly across the open space, stopping with a finality of a thud, not moving.
My nostrils flare, the air begins to smell of acidic chemicals and the scent of burning plastic. Grey smoke starts to gather. I can taste a metallic tang on my tongue. I close my eyes, feeling so exhausted, it’s all I can do is to keep holding on.
What is happening?
“Man, Tuck, you ok? Oh, shit, ah no!”
I jerk, my eyes flying open staring at Connor. I see he’s terrified. My skin prickles, every hair on my body stands on end. The atmosphere is thick, and foggy, making it hard to breathe. The crowd has gone deathly silent and still, a pin could have dropped and we’d all hear it.
I’m almost afraid to ask Con what it is.
And then I hear it. I swallow thickly, eyes darting around. A fizzle of a live wire can be overheard. We jerk our heads up in time to see each of the ball field lights start blowing out one after another and smoking. We duck down as the sharp-edged glass rains down upon us. There’s moment of silent shock, then the screams and shouts come from the crowd; children crying out for their parents. I swallow thickly.
I hope Dillon is still with the kids. Hopefully they are all ok.
Please let all the kids be ok!
People are running, pushing, shouting covering their heads with their arms, bags, jackets anything to help shield them from the glass.
Connor catches my eyes and shakes his head.
“They are going to make it worse! The more people go crazy the more they fuel whatever it is.”
I’m just about to ask him what he means but in the next instant, I drop heavily, my legs fall out from under me from crouching to sitting position. I use my last bit of energy to crawl and place my back against the railing for support. My breath is coming in ragged uneven bursts, my head pounding, feeling feverish. Connor comes to me and puts a hand on my forehead unable to do anything but be there for me. His brow furrows, worried.
“I’m fine.”
He narrows his eyes not believing me for a second.
“You’re feverish. Something is draining you. I think it’s her.”
I blink at him, then the whole sports complex and the surrounding city blocks lights blow at the same instant. We’re shrouded in darkness. I can’t even see Connor. More screams, the sound of people running, falling, and crying makes it to my ears.
When will this nightmare end? We struggle to comprehend what is going on.
“How did this happen?”I ask.
At least the parents are out of their rampage now. They are currently running in all different directions just trying to reach their kids and get them away.
“No clue dude… Hey Tucker?” Connor answers me out loud, his voice showing his own astonishment. He turns on the flashlight app on his phone, shining the sudden onslaught of brightness in my eyes. I knock his hand holding the phone away, weakly. There are white spots dancing across my vision.
Moron.
“What Connor?” I mutter, my thoughts rapidly going through my mind.
I’m missing something, what is it?
“When I said I wanted popcorn for the entertainment, this was not what I meant.” He never ceases to amaze me the times he does his stupid, impromptu humor thing.
“Dually noted.” I say dryly.
“Okay, just making that clear.” I roll my eyes, then wish I didn’t, I have a killer headache.
Not long after, sirens blare as fire engines come on the scene, ambulances and a fleet of police show up to try and maintain the situation. Fire fighters get to work to see what caused the electrical malfunctions, and to try and ease the smoke so we can all breathe a little easier. Police section off places containing the area from the public, making sure people are safe and have a ride home. The paramedics start to guide and then help people if they need medical assistance into the ambulances. Occasionally their sirens start again and they speed off to get to the hospital.
We get up, shaking a few bits of glass and sticky black ash off ourselves. I turn on my own flashlight phone app, and shine it ahead of me. With Connor insisting, I lean on him as we go find Charlie. But with every step I take I feel a little less drained.
I think Con is right, something did drain me.
Connor gets into a bad coughing fit on the way; the smoke hurting his chest. We stop for ten minutes with me insisting he gets looked over. Luckily, he does without much of an argument. It turns out he just needed to inhale a few times in the oxygen mask. He tries to get me checked over, but besides my chest feeling tight which the grumpy paramedic tells us it’s normal because of the smoke inhalation, I genuinely do feel fine. In fact, I feel better now than I have in a while. That in its self is worrying. But that’s one thing to worry about tomorrow.
As we near the police officers, I make a mental note to remember to start doing law of attraction. I need to start putting out what I want to receive, and obviously my statement with all the craziness of earlier this morning, about how today seems to be working against me in all ways possible, seemed to have set a challenge to the Spirits.
Damn pesky things.
Connor keeps giving me furtive glances. I sigh, knowing I’ve worried him on top of whatever the hell happened here tonight. I rub my face with my open palm, knowing I’m about to have to get to work with Charlie who is now walking up to meet us. I have a feeling I’m going to be up all night.
Damn, I could really do with a cup of my strong, Italian coffee.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“One Mississippi…Two Mississippi” – Dillon
Dillon
With the sun shining brightly warming up the October cold afternoon air, I exhale, finally able to relax and find my balance upon the shores of our local beach. It has been three days since the craziness of the tee ball game. This past week has been full of oddities which just keep on piling up. I shake my head, turning my face up towards the sun, eyes closed underneath my oversized sunglasses, and trying to not worry at this moment.
Leaning back on my towel while digging my toes in the sand, I smile, reaching out my arms and start running their grains through my fingers.
Mom always said that the best exfoliation for hands and feet is a day at the beach. She used to sit under a big umbrella as she watched dad surfing with Deacon and myself. My parents shared their love for the beach with us, and therefore it turned into our happy place. We didn’t grow up with a lot of money, but we weren’t poor by any means we had everything we needed, but there were tight times.
I keep smiling at the pleasant images as I open my eyes to watch Lyon running back and forth from the ocean’s edge, gathering enough water in his little pale to make wet sand for his sand castle.
Thursdays have become our special days. After I pick him up from school, we go home where we change into our bathing suits and come down to the beach that is a five-minute drive from our house. For as much time as the setting day sun gives us we work on surfing, making sand castles, burying our bodies in the sand, or hunting for seashells.
Unfortunately, since it is now almost Halloween our time has been cut shorter and shorter by each passing day. I am just thankful to be living on the east coast of southern Florida where it is possible to be on the beach everyday if we choose to. I wish this is something we could do every day, but with Lyon’s hectic schedule with tee ball, I’m still trying to figure out how to run Deacon’s company, plus working from home with my own job; somehow Thursdays have turned into our only free day to enjoy each other.
I watch Lyon
take off for another pale full of water, his lime green board shorts illuminating within the rays of the setting sun. I finish going through a mental check list of the rest of the week.
I guess the only thing that is a pressing matter is his tee ball game on Saturday. Hopefully this one will be less eventful.
I can’t help but to think back at Tucker and Connor’s reaction to seeing the crowd of parents burst out in rage like they did. They barely look concerned, more like they were just shocked.
I couldn’t see what happened to them after that as it became so hectic I had lost sight of them. I’ve been worrying about them ever since, to the point I’ve nearly called Child Protection Services to inquire after Tucker. However yesterday, I overheard the uppity baseball moms gossiping saying that those ‘two hot blonde guys’ are heroes and as soon as the police finally showed up, they both sprang into action to help the injured and made sure everyone was ok. One uppity mom, Melinda, who is divorced, had sprained her ankle and it sounds as if Connor was the one to help her.
Of course, she was right as rain, wearing a five-inch heeled, supple, brown, leather boots as she was telling her tale animatedly to her posse with whom were practically swooning right there. Then of course the conversation went to how hot he is. I tuned out after that, not wanting to listen to how blue his eyes are, how tall, muscular, and sexy he is.
I already know all that.
If the guys do end up going to a game again I know for sure they will be mauled and that’s just from those ladies. It makes me angry the way they just played off the whole incident for sympathy. While I was the one protecting their children making sure they were ok, and they weren’t, not mentally anyway. They were petrified wanting their moms and dads. I was scared too, not only for the kids, but also what was happening to my body.
I went to the doctors the following day for a checkup and ended up describing the symptoms that I’ve been experiencing. He called them hot flashes. I deflated a little as he told me, because I know all about hot flashes by watching my mom go through menopause when I was a young teen. I know for definite that what I’ve been experiencing is not hot flashes. But, I couldn’t very well tell him that I only got them until the lights and power on the block exploded and went out, then it felt like my body had let go of a huge release of pent up energy.
Controlling the Elements Page 7
