No Easy Catch (Carmen Sisters)

by Pat Simmons

  “Besides the players who have come forward, whether or not they were named in Mr. Canseco’s book, Juiced, we took the initiative to expand our investigation. We now have evidence that proves the following players have abused the system currently and/or since we first set the guidelines on banned substances…” Cisco was named, along with another current Cardinals player, before the commissioner moved on to another team.

  “Cisco?” Rahn was shocked. It was by the grace of God that Rahn hadn’t been singled out, even though it had happened long ago.

  When the commissioner refolded his paper, Rahn couldn’t contain his relief. It was over. God was good. Leaping off the edge of his bed, he pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”

  His reaction caused Marcus to give him the oddest look. He didn’t comment on his behavior, but his face slowly registered the reason for Rahn’s reaction. Without saying a word, he turned back to the television.

  “The buck stops here!” The commissioner slapped the podium. “Players will have three strikes and you’re out. A first positive test result is a fifty-game suspension. Double that for a second positive offense. If a player is foolish enough to stay on that destructive and dishonest path, he will end his career with a lifetime suspension from Major League Baseball. I hope not to address this again.” The man scowled, then opened the floor for questions from the media.

  “Robert Blake, Associated Press,” the first reporter identified himself. “Are you only going after players who have tested positive for substances currently or those rumored to have abused the system since the new guidelines were established a decade ago?”

  “We will continue our random drug testing to keep the game clean. We tested many, many players—involuntary and voluntarily. I released only the names of those who failed,” the commissioner replied.

  “Greg Saxon, KMMD-TV, St. Louis. The investigation focused heavily on the St. Louis Cardinals players. Since only two players were named, is that an indication that all the other players tested negative?”

  “That’s exactly what it means, Mr. Saxon—”

  “I’ve heard enough.” Aiming the remote at the television, Marcus muted the press conference. Reclining in the corner chair, he rested his ankle on his knee, folded his hands, and calmly addressed Rahn. “Let’s talk.”

  Marcus was six months older than Rahn, but at the moment, he came across as much older. Nodding, Rahn braced his arms on his thighs.

  Marcus glanced away, appearing to struggle to find the words to speak. Then he looked back at Rahn, his expression unreadable. “Why?”

  It was Rahn’s turn to avoid eye contact. He huffed. “Stupidity, insecurity, competiveness…”

  Shaking his head, Marcus leaned forward. “Besides me, who else knows?”

  “My mother.” He paused. “And Shae knows.”

  “Ah, Shae.” Marcus nodded. “That explains a lot. Yvette and I were wondering what was going on between you. Shae hasn’t been easily accessible when Yvette has tried calling her, and when they last met to go shopping, Shae refused to talk about baseball or mention your name.” Marcus rubbed his chin and squinted.

  So, Shae had not only cut ties with him but with his best friend’s wife, too? There was no hope to keep alive. It was over. If only she had waited it out with him.

  “Is that why you two broke up?”

  Taking a deep breath, Rahn stood and paced their hotel room. “It was her call.” He didn’t look at Marcus. It was a weak argument, but he had to convince himself that she had walked away willingly and not because he had forced her hand. “I told her I would deny the truth if she said anything to the media.” He cringed, recalling her wounded look, which had turned into an indignant expression before him.

  Marcus covered his eyes with the palms of his hands. “You threatened her? Ah, man.” He shifted in the chair. “Are you double crazy? You’ve messed up big time, and I do mean big time. I thought the doping was big, but letting go of the woman who really loves you? Insane!”

  “I know that!” Rahn raised his voice. “I experimented with some concoction while in the minor leagues—one time.” He demonstrated with his finger. “My dad was hot when he found out. My excuse was trying to measure up to him. Although I knew about the ban when I started with the Cardinals, a bout of insecurity returned, and I tricked myself into believing I wouldn’t get caught, so I agreed to the injection—”

  “Was it Dr. Davidson?”

  Rahn confirmed it with a nod.

  “I never trusted him.” Marcus grimaced. “I was glad when the organization gave him the boot.”

  “While I had no guilt the first or second time, a random drug test made me come to my senses, when I realized the magnitude of what I could lose. When my results came back negative, I used that as my wakeup call. I haven’t used anything in almost eight years. Everything I’ve achieved on the field since has come from hard work and body conditioning.”

  “I believe you.” Marcus stretched out his legs and leaned on his elbow. “What are you going to do about your relationship with Shae?”

  “There is no relationship. She wanted to walk. I let her strut her fine self away. I refuse to beg, man.”

  “Admitting you’re wrong, saying you’re sorry, and kissing and making up is far from begging,” Marcus said, checking off his examples one finger at a time.

  “I did apologize.” Rahn grunted. “I love her, but I’ll lose some respect for her if she tries to run back to me now that I’ve been cleared. It’s best we both move on.” His ears tingled, hearing him say that.

  “If you say so. Come on. We’d better get to the stadium.”

  33

  Everything should have been all right in Rahn’s world, but it wasn’t. He wasn’t surprised he hadn’t heard from Shae, but it seemed as if God wasn’t talking to him, either. Stretching out in his home theater, Rahn clicked off the movie that he hadn’t been watching. He rubbed his head. “God, what’s wrong with me? I thought I would be happy that my secret was kept.”

  He needed God to speak to him. His mansion seemed still—not even a tick of the clock invaded from the background—yet Rahn didn’t hear a whisper from the Lord. Restless, he wandered into his home library for his Bible.

  Sitting behind the desk, he bowed his head and prayed before opening it. “I should’ve asked You, Jesus, what Your game plan was up front. Then maybe I would have some peace.”

  Come unto Me with your burdens, and I will give you rest, God advised. Read Matthew 11:28 in My Word.

  “Lord, I did, so why can’t I shake this uneasiness?” he asked in frustration. His eyes were still closed, his hands still folded.

  “Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed.” The words from God were swift, but they echoed as if a light wind had carried them away.

  Opening his eyes, Rahn glanced around the room. Everything seemed intact, but he felt God’s presence again. What more was there to confess? He opened his Bible to James 5, trying to understand why God would tell him to confess—what and to whom?

  Be a witness, the Lord stated instead.

  That night, before climbing into bed, Rahn prayed a lengthy prayer. He tossed and turned but couldn’t sleep. He needed help in decoding God’s messages. Why did the Lord have to speak in riddles?

  The next morning, Rahn opted to fast—a spiritual practice Shae had taught him—so he could get some answers. He ached to call her, to ask her for some spiritual direction, but she’d made it clear she didn’t want to be a part of his dirty laundry. “It’s me and You, Lord. Open my eyes and ears to Your Word.”

  Rahn anointed his head with holy oil from the small bottle the altar workers had given him at Bethesda after he had received his water and fire baptism. Then he strolled throughout his mansion, praying and reciting passages from his Bible. As his body weakened from the lack of nourishment, his spiritual endurance grew stronger. He seemed to be more in tune with God’s Word and better able to decipher it than even a few
days earlier.

  At nine that night, he broke his fast after finally getting a basic understanding of what God wanted him to do. Initially, Rahn had resisted God’s request, but Jesus told him to trust Him, reminding him of various times when God had protected him before and after the carjacking incident. Once he had accepted his fate, he called Marcus and shared what he was about to do.

  “Are you sure God is directing you on this?”

  Marcus’s reaction surprised Rahn. “I thought you would agree, as my Christian brother and close friend. I have no doubt. As a matter of fact, I have peace with it.”

  “As long as you’re sure this is God’s will, I’m with you. You know the devil has a way of intercepting messages like he did in the Old Testament.”

  “I fasted and prayed earnestly. I know this is God’s will because there is no way on His earth I would do this, even for Shae.”

  “Okay. I’ve got your back, bro.”

  Early the next day, Rahn had his agent, Fred Klass, advise the media that he was holding a press conference before the Cardinals took off for one of the last road trips of the season.

  The press packed the room in the Cardinals’ clubhouse. Cameras flashed and conversations ceased as he walked to the podium. Standing nearby were the Cardinals’ owner and manager, as well as Fred Klass and Marcus.

  Because of his own experience of being fined twenty-five thousand dollars and suspended for fifty games, Cisco had tried that morning to talk Rahn out of going public and committing career suicide. But Rahn couldn’t be deterred. He stood on Acts 5:29: “We ought to obey God rather than men.”

  Rahn scanned the crowd. The media would always remind him of Shae, and she had been right all along. “Thank you all for coming,” he began. “As you are aware, the Major League Baseball Commissioner released the names of players who admitted to and/or tested positive for using performance-enhancing drugs.”

  Bowing his head, he whispered a prayer, then lifted his chin. He felt no condemnation as he told the truth: “I violated the anti-drugs guidelines the first year I joined the organization. I agreed to two injections from the late former club physician, Dr. Davidson. I’m asking my colleagues and the fans to forgive me for cheating. I have no excuse for my lack of judgment. I’ve shamed the Maxwell name. If my father were still alive, he would be the first to tell me that. Although I didn’t test positive, I’ll accept any fines and penalties placed upon me by the commissioner for whatever stated time period.” With the truth out, his burden seemed light. “Are there any questions?”

  Greg Saxon lifted his pen. “Why did you do it in the first place?”

  He had his own question for Greg. How is Shae? Rahn cleared his throat to keep his mind from wandering. “I’m a second-generation ball player. For me, it was about chasing my father’s record. Although I proved myself capable to be on the Cardinals’ roster, in the back of my mind, I doubted myself and sought out steroids, which I thought would make me worthy. Guilt forced me to cultivate my God-given ability.”

  “Mike Bledsoe, Fox Sports,” the next reporter identified himself, as if Rahn didn’t already know him. “You mentioned why you felt you needed to use steroids, but what is your motive for going public, subjecting yourself to possible fines and suspension during a crucial time for your team?”

  This was the part he hoped would give God His glory. “It’s part of Jesus’ redemption plan for me. As you know, earlier this year, my life was spared in a carjacking ambush. That caused a chain reaction in my life led to my surrendering to Christ. If I want to walk freely with Him, it means I have to admit my mistakes—which Jesus has forgiven—so the devil won’t have power over me.”

  “One last question.” He pointed to an unfamiliar face.

  The man identified himself as a local radio sports commentator. “You’ve been linked romantically with media personality Shae Carmen. Did she know?”

  “Yes, I told her off the record. As a reporter, she honored that. To my knowledge, she never influenced her colleagues one way or the other about reporting on the topic.”

  “Are you and Miss Carmen still together?” asked an unfamiliar woman from somewhere in the back.

  He was not about to let Shae’s name be tainted with his dirt. “Listen,” he said, not trying to hide his irritation, “this news conference is about my actions. I have no comment about my relationship with Miss Carmen.”

  Rahn walked out of the room with Marcus and Fred by his side. “Well, it’s done. I’m at the mercy of the commissioner.”

  Fred slapped Rahn on his back and gripped his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Although I’m disappointed, I have to respect you for coming forward when you didn’t have to. I hope the commissioner will take that into consideration.”

  “Me, too.” Rahn exhaled, then watched as the two men got in the limo that would take them to the airport so they could join the team for tonight’s game. Although the commissioner hadn’t banned or fined Rahn, he felt Rahn would be a distraction if he played immediately following his announcement—so, in a sense, the punishment had already begun. Rahn understood. Lord, no matter what happens, I know I have You.

  Be content. I will neither leave you nor forsake you, the Lord whispered, then gave him Hebrews 13:5–6 to read.

  On his way back home, Rahn thought about the last reporter’s question. Shae’s career would always take precedence over their relationship. He knew it had to have been hard for her not to say anything, but what about the next time there was something big that pertained to his world? “I guess I’ll never know,” he mumbled. He and Shae were history.

  34

  Quietly rejoicing, Shae blinked back her tears. The way Rahn had conducted himself at the press conference was proof that God had given him perfect peace. If only she could borrow some of his.

  Shae wished he had commented on the reporter’s question about the status of their relationship: “Absolutely over,” “Maybe,” or “We will definitely reconcile.” She missed him terribly, but it didn’t feel right to go running back to him once the smoke had cleared. Two relationships, two strikeouts, she was done.

  Seeing her news director heading her way, Shae took a deep breath and tried to achieve a blank expression by the time he made it to her desk. “I’ll give Rahn Maxwell credit. That took guts to risk everything to do that.”

  No, it took the peace of God to do that, Shae wanted to correct her boss.

  “Me, personally? I would’ve kept my mouth shut. Since your name was mentioned, I think you should make a statement.”

  Excuse me? “Don’t you think that would become too much of a tit for tat?” She didn’t want to make the tabloids by allegedly lodging derogatory insults at Rahn. Regardless of the fact that their relationship had fallen apart, they still respected each other. “Can’t we monitor the social media tweets and posts?” she countered.

  He seemed to give it some thought. Once Martin made a decision in his mind, it was the law, so she awaited his response. It was slow in coming. “We can try that, but be prepared to make a statement, if necessary.” When he walked back to his office, Diane rushed to the spot he had vacated.

  “Girl, how did you hold that in for all these months?” She playfully shoved Shae’s shoulder.

  No one would ever get a quote out of her just because Rahn had let everything out in the open. In hindsight, she didn’t know which was worse: holding his secret close to her heart or shutting him out of her life. Shae merely shrugged and smiled.

  “Well, you did the right thing—getting out of that mess before your reputation tanked,” Diane went on. “Although I do miss the flowers. We had the sweetest-smelling corner of the newsroom. So that’s why you were so tight-lipped. You handled it better than I would have. Whatever he told me off the record, I would put on the record for an upcoming fall sweeps series—”

  “I have a conscience. I didn’t get into this business to be ruthless,” Shae interrupted Diane’s rambling. “It wasn’t my story to tell. It was up to
you and my other colleagues to do the digging and force his hand. I guess you guys lost your edge on this one.” Actually, Shae was glad they had. Otherwise, Rahn would have missed the opportunity to show others that he had made the decision to come clean as a testimony to God sparing his life.

  Leaning her elbow on her desk, she stared at Diane. “Have you ever been in love—really, head over heels in love—with any man, even the one you married?”

  “No comment.” Diane lifted a brow and positioned her fists on her hips. “Stick by your man,” she mumbled before walking away.

  Whoa. Shae must have hit some nerve. But her coworker’s off-handed remark made Shae feel guilty. She hadn’t stayed by Rahn’s side. Shae exhaled and gnawed on her bottom lip. What if she called Rahn? Surely he would think she was shallow. Alone with her thoughts, she bowed her head and whispered a brief prayer. “Lord, You knew about these fiascos in my life before the foundation of the world. I bounced back after Alex in Nebraska, but my recovery after Rahn isn’t going so well. I’m hurting, God. Please mend me, in Jesus’ name. Amen,” she hurriedly concluded when she heard voices nearby.

  “Shae.” The assignment editor strolled to her desk. “I forgot about an East St. Louis forum on neighborhood gun violence. Nothing else newsworthy is going on, so will you and Jeff check it out?”

  “Sure.” Anything to keep her mind focused. Shae could write the generic script with her eyes closed: A neighborhood watchdog group is rallying the public to put a stop to gun violence. A spokesman is calling on police to beef up patrol… It would be the same story, just a different location involving different people.