Now Batting for Boston: More Stories by J. G. Hayes

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Now Batting for Boston: More Stories by J. G. Hayes Page 9

by J. G Hayes


  His breath was coming so fast, he thought he would pass out. He didn’t move, but waited for what would happen next. He knew he wouldn’t move again until something happened.

  “There you are!” came hurtling up at him.

  Billy. At the bottom of the ladder.

  Danny still couldn’t move; there was too much flying through his head, like flecks of paint chips.

  “It’s just me,” Billy called up. “How are ya today?”

  Danny gulped. He took a deep breath.

  “P-pretty good,” he called. If his heart would stop racing—

  “What, d’you stand me up for lunch?”

  “Ahh … ahh, no. No.”

  “Well, I’m ready when you are, cowboy.”

  When Danny was finally about halfway down the ladder, Billy said, “I was looking for you; you didn’t come up to the store so I came down. I made us some subs.”

  Danny stopped and looked down. Billy was wearing a kelly green T-shirt that said ST. BRENDAN’S on the front and the number seven on the back. The sleeves had been hacked off and a shamrock the size of a half-dollar was tattooed on Billy’s left arm, right where it became his shoulder.

  Danny smiled. A bead of sweat dripped from his nose. Billy smiled back.

  “I figgered we could go out to The Island for lunch?” Billy said, the sentence ending in a questioning rise.

  “S-sure,” Danny said, stepping off the ladder. He could still hear his heart in his ears, thudding away. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

  “Where were you, out back?”

  “Ahh … y-yeah,” Danny said. He didn’t trust himself to say any more.

  “Yeah, I figured you must be. I climbed up the ladder and knocked on one of the windows to try and make some noise. I figgered you musta been out back or washing your hands on the side there or somethin’.”

  “Yeah,” Danny repeated. He opened his mouth, then shut it. Billy smiled.

  “Like I say, I was waitin’ for you up the store … then I figgered you musta wanted to take a late lunch.” He paused. There was a depth to his eyes that Danny hadn’t noticed before.

  “The time … kind of ran away from me,” Danny said. “It …” He held up his hands.

  “C’mon,” Billy said encouragingly, tossing his head toward his car but keeping his eyes on Danny’s. “Let’s get outta here.”

  Danny nodded. He looked around, up at the ladder, at the house. He gulped again, took another deep breath, then walked over to the old Chevy.

  He got into Billy’s car. An old newspaper was on the floor. A red pine tree air freshener with the cellophane halfway down swung from the radio’s tuning knob. A white paper bag sat on the middle of the seat.

  “Lunch!” Billy laughed, patting the bag as he hopped in and started up the car. Danny heard a door slam behind him. He turned as Billy looked in his rearview mirror. A man carrying a black travel bag was moving up the walk, away from a yellow cab. Danny couldn’t see the averted face of The Architect. He let out a gasp. Billy turned to him quickly and Danny studied him, wondering how smart Billy was, remembering how The Architect’s house could be seen from McGillicuddy’s Spa.

  “What?” Billy asked, tilting his head quizzically. His smile was a little different this time.

  Danny could only jerk his thumb behind him and shake his head. Billy’s eyes lingered on Danny’s.

  They pulled away. As they turned onto the breezy boulevard, Danny felt his breath easing into a normal pattern. Billy’s baggy shorts came down to his knees and Danny stole looks at Billy’s right leg as it worked the gas, the brake. He looked up once and Billy was staring at him, smiling again.

  “That’s my leg,” he laughed, slapping his knee.

  Danny’s breath caught.

  “S’okay,” Billy said softly. God, he was beaming. He turned his head back to the road.

  “Really, it’s okay,” he repeated.

  THEY PULLED INTO the parking lot at Castle Island and got out. Billy laughed, for no apparent reason. He grabbed a Frisbee from the backseat.

  ‘‘I like to throw junk around,” he told Danny over the car roof.

  Billy knew many people they came across: the housewives out for their power walks or the young mothers or fathers pushing strollers. Everyone asked about his father. Gulls raked the air overhead, squawking when someone chucked them food. The sky and sea were the same color, and radiant, as if the one had just rinsed the other. There was a hint of approaching fall in the air and light.

  They picked a spot on the luxurious, sun-warmed grass on the hill behind the stone castle, and sat down. Billy laughed again for no apparent reason. The harbor opened up before them like an expanding dream. The harbor islands were a light-blue smudge on the horizon.

  Danny became aware of a lightness inside him.

  Big cottony clouds drifted across the sky, as slowly as the ships below them easing out of the harbor.

  “I remembered that you liked the Boyd’s potato chips,” Billy said, handing the small bag to Danny. He pulled out one sandwich, then another. A “D” written with a fat red pencil marked Danny’s.

  “Thanks.”

  “I figgered we could just split our drink,” Billy said, wiggling himself into a cross-legged sitting position and sliding a big green plastic bottle from the bag. A sea breeze gushed at the bag and Billy lunged at it, laughing again, before it could blow away. “I sure hope you like Mountain Dew,” he said.

  “I love it,” Danny said, smiling. A radiance sprang up around the patch of grass surrounding them. They began eating in an easy silence.

  “How … how do you like the store? How are things at the store?” Danny asked halfway through lunch.

  “I really like it,” Billy said. He turned his head away and burped lowly. He smiled. “Oops. Excuse me. That’d be polite in the Middle East. In three more years, I’ll own it. The store I mean, not the Middle East. How’s about you? You still want to be an architect?”

  Danny’s head lurched. Billy laughed.

  “Naw, I ain’t a mind reader. I just remember your brother, George, told me one time that’s what you wanted to do. He said you were crazy about it.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “That’s great. I do this Habitat for Humanity thing once a month. You know about that?”

  “Ahh … I think so.”

  “A bunch of people get together and build, like, affordable houses for people. They’re always looking for architects to help out.” Billy paused and scratched the blond stubble on his chin. “Maybe you’d like to come with me next time.”

  Danny could feel something shift behind his stomach. There were other people in the world. There were more important rooms than dressing areas.

  “I’d like that!” he blurted. Then he blushed for appearing so zealous.

  “Good deal, then,” Billy said easily. He put a whole chip in his mouth, then crunched down on it. At the same time he reached his hand across the distance between them, and softly brushed Danny’s chin with his closed fist. It seemed to Danny that the harbor behind Billy contracted, and contained now only the two of them. A thing fluttered inside, like birds’ wings.

  BILLY TURNED HIS HEAD again and smiled out at the harbor, the ocean. A soft breeze mowed through the grass, then flickered through Billy’s sun-bleached leg hair. “I come out here a lot. It’s about my favorite place in the world,” he said.

  “You seen much of the world?” Danny asked.

  Billy shrugged and turned back to Danny.

  “I did a quick tour in the Marines, three and a half years. I seen a few places.” His smile faded. Danny noticed how long Billy’s eyelashes were. “I didn’t really care for it. I like it back here. I like it at the store. I like giving people what they need. I like it out here. You can just sit back and … look at the sky with quiet eyes.”

  Yet Billy’s eyes weren’t looking at the sky right now. They were softly focused on Danny’s.

  Danny felt a smile pulling at th
e edges of his mouth.

  “C’MON,” BILLY SAID after lunch, grabbing the Frisbee and standing up. “Time to work off them chips.”

  In a minute they were running. Danny stopped to kick off his boots after Billy shed his sneakers. Danny saw that he was still wearing The Architect’s black socks. He pried them off and started laughing.

  “What?” Billy called, twenty feet away. He stopped and put his hands on his hips, holding the Frisbee.

  “What what?” Danny asked back.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I … I was just thinking,” Danny said. “Some people … . Some people have houses full of pots and pans, and no food.” He stopped. “Can I tell you stuff?”

  Danny was surprised at his own boldness.

  Billy laughed, then became serious. He took a few steps toward Danny.

  “You sure can,” he said. “I think… . You know what, Danny Boy? I think you’ll be surprised at the stuff we end up telling each other.”

  For the catching of a breath, Danny couldn’t answer.

  “Ahh … what was I saying? I forget now.”

  “People with pots and pans, and no food.”

  “Oh, yeah. There’s some people with tons of pots and pans, and no food. And … and Rolodexes full of phone numbers, but no friends to call.” He stared at Billy. “You know Rolodexes? Those things with numbers?”

  Billy held Danny’s eyes for what seemed a very long time. “I do. And who needs that?” he finally answered. He smiled again. “Okay, Danny Boy—go out for a long one!”

  Danny turned and raced up the grassy hill. Turning his head as he ran, he saw the Frisbee uncoiling through the blue air above him. Danny cried out and redoubled his speed. As he caught it in a dive to Billy’s whooo! he was thinking he’d build a fort, a little house, from the old scrapwood he had dumped in his small back yard at Mr. Palmer’s urging. Maybe he’d drag his mother’s basement couch out there after he built it.

  It was kind of dumb, but he’d do it anyway. He’d start designing it tonight. He’d bring Billy there when it was done.

  Billy would like it; he knew he would.

  It probably wouldn’t have a dressing area.

  Lughead

  If time is relative, why can’t we see the future?

  Stephen Hawking

  I played up there. That is a total hack league; better wear shin guards.

  Up at that place there, Hockeytown, the Hockeytown rink. No, it’s on Route One there. Whatever you call it, the Lynnway or something. I dunno maybe not the Lynnway.

  Naw, nothing special. I was coming back from a back injury, that was when I was roofin’. MacDonald Roofin’, you know them? What’s his name worked there, Richie’s cousin. Yeah, Richie Corbett. That’s a fuckin’ hard job. You ever try liftin’ one of them shingle packs? There’s like sixty pound of weight there, maybe more, and you’re going up that ladder all day like a monkey. Fuckin’ sucks. Specially at the end of the day, or in summer. Brutal in summer. Throw in customers with attitude and it can turn out to be a real shit sandwich of a job.

  No I didn’t fall or nothing, I missed a step on the ladder there and the shingles started sliding and I was like holding onto them? And like it just didn’t occur to me at first to let ’em go, let ’em drop but then like we’re both sliding off the ladder cuz I lost my balance so I figgered hey I better let these shingles go man or I’m gonna be going with ’em.

  It was this rich lady’s house in Belmont. She was a college professor at Harvard. I never met a real one of them before except like in the movies. She came out and roared at us cuz the shingles I dropped crushed one of her bushes, one of her favorite bushes. That bush has been in our family for thirrrrrrrrrty years, she said. Like I did it on purpose. Not that smart if you ask me, like I fuckin’ did it on purpose. The nosy neighbor next door who watched us all day told us the lady taught ethics. I thought about that the rest of the day, the subway ride home too and I finally found the thought that was trying to get me: there’s a thing, and then there’s like the study of a thing.

  You know what I mean?

  I just wrenched it or something, but better than failin’, right? So the next day I can’t even move. It wasn’t a union job or nothing so no work, no pay. So I was out for a bit, and of course I couldn’t play hockey that winter, so then Mikie calls me up one day late winter and says there’s this floor hockey league startin’ up up at Hockeytown there and was I interested. Like it might be a good idea to get into this league so the next year I could play hockey again and not be too out of shape? It was like this spring league. So I said no, but then he called again like two weeks later and said they just needed one more guy so what the fuck. What are you gonna do. Yeah, I was back to work then, my back was fine, I just didn’t really think I’d like that league. Yeah a good job, union and everything, my cousin got me on the Big Dig. Still there too. Hard work? Yeah, course it is, wicked hard, what d’you think. In them fuckin’ tunnels all day, bustin’ your ass? We lose like two guys a year, on average. Pipe-fittin’. Oh I get it, when all that money shit happened, that Big Dig money scandal there, that’s what you mean, like we sat around all day and that’s why there was those fuckin’ overruns or whatever you call ’em. Huh. I can tell you never worked a day in your life cuz you’d know, when them scandals happen, it’s never the guys doin’ the work get the money. I gotta tell you everything? Guinea boss too. You never wanna get a guinea boss. My father used to say that too and damn he was right, don’t ask me why.

  You’re half-Italian? Well whatdya want, I speak the truth. Ask anybody. There’s guineas and there’s Italians, the Italian lady next door told me that. Just like there’s Irish and there’s Thick Micks. Everybody, you know, all nationalities. I ain’t gonna name you no more in case you’re half that too, since you’re so fuckin’ sensitive. And I could, too.

  So no, that league there, I just didn’t wanna play floor hockey. I mean, floor hockey? You play hockey all your life and then you’re playing floor hockey, you know what I mean? Like a broad’s game or somethin’, but then the first night I was like couldn’t believe it, I was fuckin’ suckin’ air like crazy, runnin’ up and down and all. Wicked hack league, and some pretty good fights too, and usually the ref is like a guy from one of the teams so he gets into it too, he’s not gonna stop it. Wicked hack league. I couldn’t wait to play the next week, you know? And then you know afterward, you go out, have a few brews and the guys you were fightin’ with your singing with after, you know. Guy shit. So that lasted like … ten weeks?… . Wait a minute, we had … there was like four weeks we played, then like a holiday or something … no, nothing big but like one of them presidents holidays or something where everybody’s supposed to go shoppin’ … and then we played … lemme see, we played Lenny’s Auto Glass on like the third week before the season ended and they were like the best and we almost beat them, cuz I remember we were tied with them going into the game for the best record and we had like two more weeks after that and we were like seven-and-oh then or something… . What difference does it make? It makes a lotta fuckin’ difference! Who’s tellin’ the story here? You ain’t old enough to have any good stories. Oh, you think so? All right well, when I’m fuckin’ done you can have the floor, okay? But in the meantime just shut the fuck up and try to remember when I’m talkin’ the only interruption allowed is applause, okay? Fuckin’ smack you.

  Were we all from Southie, on the team? No no, not all. Lemme see, there was Fitzy, and the two Sullys, and one of their cousins Tommy I think but he never showed up after the third week, I forget what the fuckin’ problem was … I dunno, something with his girlfriend or something, they were getting married and they had to go to these marriage lessons at her church or something… . Everybody was like, marriage lessons? What do they, show you porn or something? You seen enough of that already, man.

  He musta been whipped … then ahh … who else … oh, there was Phil of course, he used to drive me every week to the games, I’d rid
e with him … yeah … yeah, so what if I did? Who fuckin’ told you I lost my license? Whatdya mean, you heard? Heard from who? Yeah, well … like they say, whatever. Fuckin’ whatever, I was stupid, awright? So like—you did? When? Did you get it back yet? I was gonna say, I hope you fuckin’ got it back because I seen you drive here, I seen you pullin’ up with your car there when you first got here. Yeah, I seen you. Hey, what can I say, it’s no way to go. No, it’ll ruin your life. That’s why I don’t drink anymore at all. Three years, yup. You don’t wanna go there. I’m tellin’ you, you don’t have to.

  So no, there was like five of us from town and—awright six, what the fuck are you now, a mathematician? So like five or six of us, and the other guys were like from here and there, friends, cousins, whatever. So we were playin’ that Lenny’s Auto Glass team and they were like numero uno, they were the best. Won the thing every year, they’d been playing together for years, had their own jackets and uniforms and shit. I mean like the pants too, everything. We just had some T-shirts Ronnie’s girlfriend made up that didn’t come til halfway through the season anyways. And they were fuckin’ purple if you can believe it, with some fuckin’ beauty school thing on the inside. I don’t know, some fuckin’ thing. They were like rejects and when everyone bitched Ronnie’s girlfriend she was in the stands she like yells out, what the fuck do you want for free, which was another fuckin’ problem because we’d all given Ronnie like fifteen bucks each for uniforms at the beginning of the season but I guess he blew it up his nose but that’s another fuckin’ story.

 

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