Just then Bucky watched in fascination as the same young man walked onto the platform and embraced Mercy Me’s chunky lead singer. He then picked up a microphone. “What a night!” he exclaimed, emotion filling his voice. “Jesus has been here tonight. Amen?” The applause swelled.
All at once goose bumps struck Bucky from head to toe. He gave a little gasp and clutched at Dan’s arm. “Litton, do you know who that is?”
His friend pulled away, giving his friend an odd look. “What are you getting so excited about, Stone? Who?”
Bucky could hardly get the words out. “That guy up front. That’s Hilliard! Jeff Hilliard!”
“Huh?” The name didn’t register with Dan.
“Hilliard! He hated us! That baseball pitcher who popped me on the arm two years ago! That’s him up front right there!”
Chapter Five: Forgiving Your Enemy
The huge crowd was streaming toward the exits, so it was hard to thread their way toward the platform. “Excuse me,” Bucky said over and over, trying to keep his eyes on the student who was now visiting with some of the stage hands already tearing down the PA equipment.
“You sure that’s him?” Dan and Julie, still holding hands, were right behind him.
“It’s gotta be.” The ballfield incident from two years ago was still fresh in his mind. Many times since then he’d relived both the anger and pain as the disgruntled pitcher’s fastball had whistled through the air and broken his left arm right at the elbow.
The members of the singing group had exited now through a side door, and most of those lingering near the platform eagerly followed after them. Splitting away from his threesome, Bucky approached the tall young man, his heart in his throat. “Excuse me,” he managed, trying to keep his pulse from racing.
The stranger set down a microphone and turned toward him. “Yeah. What’s up?”
Bucky licked his lips. “I, uh . . . I don’t know if you remember me,” he began.
The other student looked older than Bucky, maybe eighteen or even closer to nineteen.
“Whoa,” he said. “You do look familiar. But I . . .” His voice trailed away as he squinted through the dimmed sanctuary lighting. At last he shook his head. “I’m sorry, man. I guess I don’t remember. Do you go to Calvary here?” He seemed genuinely puzzled.
A shake of the head. “No, I . . . we drove up from Hampton Beach.”
All at once a startled expression came over the other student’s face. “Wait,” he breathed, his voice tense. “Hang on. You’re . . . Stone. Man, you’re Bucky Stone.”
“Yeah.” All at once Bucky’s mind went blank, and he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Jeff gulped. “Man! Stone, it’s you! This is unbelievable!”
Bucky’s mind was still a blank. “I guess we were kind of surprised to see you again,” he managed at last.
“You were surprised! Are you kidding? Ever since I came to the Lord three months ago, he’s been hittin’ me over the head about you. ‘You’ve got to go talk to Stone!’ But I hadn’t done it yet.” The words came out in short animated bursts.
“What do you mean?”
Jeff’s voice suddenly became sober. “Two years ago I hit you with that fastball. Out there on the ballfield.” He brushed at the corner of one eye. “It was a wrong thing to do, Stone. I’ve got to ask for your forgiveness. Like right now.”
His statement took Bucky by surprise. “I . . . uh . . .”
Hilliard, who topped Bucky by a full two inches, stepped closer. “Please, Stone, you’ve got to forgive me. I mean, I gave my heart to the Lord and I’m a member here and everything, but what I did to you . . .” His eyes searched the younger boy’s face.
Bucky could feel his heart pounding with excitement. “Well, sure!” He glanced over at Dan. “I forgive you, man. Absolutely!” The two stood there staring at each other on the murky stage, tangled PA cords strewn around their feet.
All at once they were embracing, pounding each other on the back over and over.
“Oh, boys . . .” Despite the magic of the moment, Dan had to get in a word. “Remember us?”
Bucky managed a laugh as the two athletes separated at last. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Jeff, you remember Dan Litton,”
“Boy, I sure do.” Jeff offered a handshake. “Man, you were about the best power hitter at Hampton.”
“Still is,” Bucky put in. “And this is Sam, and here’s Julie. She’s kind of attached to Mr. Litton at the moment.”
“That’s great.” Jeff Hilliard’s newfound faith seemed to jump out of every pore. “I can’t believe this. It’s great to see you guys.”
“So how’d you become a Christian?” Dan didn’t waste any time asking.
“Right here.” Jeff made a motion toward the rest of the sanctuary. “‘Bout three months ago some guys from here invited my girlfriend and me to come to a concert. And that same night I guess the Holy Spirit just grabbed onto me. Said, ‘Hilliard, you’ve fooled around long enough. Tonight’s the night.’” He glanced at the four students. “How about you guys?” He scratched at his goatee, thinking. “Stone, you were always kind of born again, weren’t you?” He reddened a bit. “I guess that’s how things kind of went bad at first. Me ragging on you for that whole cheating mess and how you had to turn some guys in.” He shook his head, remembering.
Bucky nodded. “Yeah. And Dan and Sam are Christians now too.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” Jeff looked startled. “That’s awesome.” He looked over at Julie. “How about you?”
She laughed easily. “For sure. Since day one.”
An older man with a full beard came over. “Hilliard, we’re about done here. You can go with your friends if you want. Bailey and I can finish up.”
Jeff nodded. “Do you guys want to go out or something? Man, we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“We were going to get a late snack before driving home,” Bucky told him. “Why don’t you join us?” He hesitated. “Is your girlfriend here?”
Hilliard winced just a bit. “No. We kind of broke right after I joined the church here. She’s not a believer.”
“That’s too bad.” Bucky shot Dan a quick glance. “OK with you, Litton? Can Jeff come along with us?”
“Sure.” Dan pulled out the keys to his Camaro. “I hope you have your own car, though, Hilliard. Your legs aren’t going to fit anywhere in mine.”
For the next hour and a half, they sat around two tables pushed together at a nearby Wendy’s. Obviously relieved to have the broken - arm incident disposed of, Jeff chattered on happily about his new job at Calvary Church with the special events team and the teen division.
“Do you still play ball?” Dan wanted to know.
A big nod as Jeff took another big bite out of his hamburger. “Yeah.”
“I thought you were a year ahead of us,” Bucky interjected.
“Huh uh. I was a sophomore too, back when . . . you know. Same as you guys.”
“But you’d already been on junior varsity? Your freshman year?”
Jeff hesitated. “Yeah, just right at the end. Coach What’s - his - name said I had a good fastball . . .”
“Brayshaw?”
“Yeah. And he gave me a shot. But I walked a bunch of guys. I’d get them one - and - two and then lose them. And then the next year when I blew it and threw at you . . . I was out the whole year. My mom had to move the next year, and so I ended up at Dixon.”
“Wait a minute!” Dan set down his drink. “They moved that back into our district!”
“Yeah. I think we’re on the very border of the conference. Since they shifted the boundaries. From there on north, it’s all Sacramento and them guys.”
“So are you playing this year?” Sam asked.
“Yeah. I’m on their varsity squad.” Suddenly his eyes had a gleam to them. “I guess maybe that means we might up playing each other.”
Bucky
burst into laughter. “And if we do, man, you owe me one clean fastball right down the middle of the plate.” He poked a finger toward the other student’s face. “I’ll take it in the bottom of the seventh, bases loaded, if you don’t mind.”
“Man, that’d be heavy.” The mood quieted down. “Going up against a fellow Christian for the championship.” He glanced from Bucky over to Dan. “Boy, you never can tell. Dixon’s got a pretty good team this year too. How about you guys?”
Dan grinned. “I don’t care how born - again you are, Hilliard. Stone and me are going to stomp all over you on our way to the title.”
“And give God the glory while you’re doing it.” Jeff reached out and offered Dan a high five. “Matthew 5:16 and all of that.”
The familiar verse gave Bucky another dose of goose bumps. Could this really be hard - throwing Jeff Hilliard sitting with them talking about the Lord and quoting the Bible? Unbelievable!
• • • • •
Traffic was light on Interstate 80 as the four students drove south to Hampton Beach. Dan had the stereo on low, but the music didn’t interrupt the spiritual glow that still lingered after the visit at the restaurant.
“Who’d have thunk it?” Still holding hands with Julie across the bucket seats in the front, Dan jockeyed around to glance back at Bucky. “Old Hilliard the Assassin gets converted.” He changed lanes and gave a shake of his head. “Stone, you think he’ll come down and visit our church?”
“He said he would.” Bucky was still tingling from the encounter. He’d actually forgotten the beanball incident from his sophomore year until tonight, but it felt marvelous to have the matter forgiven – with him as the forgiver. And to know Jeff was a Christian now was easily as exciting as when Miss Cochran had been baptized a year ago. “I kind of wish we had a big 2,000-member megachurch like Calvary, though. Hilliard’s going to think we’re small potatoes.”
“Nah.” Dan shrugged. “Not with cool guys like us three. And a babe like Julie here.” He leaned over and gave her a kiss, letting the Camaro drift into the next lane.
Chapter Six: Home Run Hero
The smells of cotton candy mingled with the odor of cattle manure as Bucky and Rachel Marie twisted their way through the crowds at the fair. “Are we almost there?” she wanted to know.
“Yeah, almost.” The huge Ferris wheel was just up ahead, and he fingered the last ride coupons in the pocket of his jeans.
Carnival rides and the sucker games at a fair weren’t his thing at all – and he hated to give up a whole Sunday afternoon. But Bucky knew that there wouldn’t be very many more Sundays to spend with his sister. Next school year he’d be away at college, and things would never be the same again. Sometimes you had to just put away your school books and your varsity baseball schedule, and give yourself to your higher commitments. Even though he didn’t always feel like it, Rachel Marie was that important to him. In a way, it was kind of like his relationship with the Lord, and things like taking time for church and devotions. You set everything else aside just because you knew in your heart it was the right thing.
It was a slow - moving Ferris wheel, but the abrupt swoop right at the top still made his stomach jump a little bit. Rachel Marie giggled with every revolution of the giant wheel, pointing to the odd sights below as the breeze tugged at her loose strands of hair. “This is fun!”
A pang of loneliness suddenly tugged at him, and he quietly slipped his arm around her. “Yeah, it is.” He gave her a squeeze. “I’m glad you’re having fun, kid.”
He and Dad sat up late that evening, watching a rerun of Pride of the Yankees, the old black - and - white baseball movie about Lou Gehrig. It was almost midnight when the picture disappeared into a tiny dot in the center of the screen. “He was quite a player,” Dad observed, scowling at his watch. “Better than you and Litton are ever going to be if you stay up like this ever again. Don’t tell your coach it was my idea.” He gave his son an affectionate swat on the rear as Bucky headed upstairs.
Baseball practices the next week were intense affairs, with the new coach pushing everyone to get ready for the first varsity contest. Bucky and Dan, determined to have a dream season, trained hard and also fired up the other players with their enthusiasm. “Go, baby! Whack that ball!” Dan screamed from the dugout at Erick, a junior with plenty of power. The batter obliged with a base hit right up the middle.
“All right!” Bucky joined his teammate on the dugout steps.
“Good poke!” Dan yelled.
It was becoming a regular habit now for the two boys to pause after practice while Bucky threw thirty or forty pitches. “I still can’t believe how good you are, Stone,” his teammate marveled as another blistering strike caught the outside corner.
They saw a bit of movement at the entrance to the gym. Mr. Lopez, a wiry man with rippling muscles underneath his baseball jersey, came shambling over to them. “You! Stone! Let me see you throw a couple more.”
“He’s pretty good, Coach,” Dan called out from his position behind home plate. “Scary, in fact.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Bucky laughed.
“Just show me.”
Winding up carefully, Bucky took aim and hurled a borderline strike that came in at waist level.
“Another.”
The young athlete complied. This one was a bit low and inside, and Dan scrambled to make the catch. “Oops.”
“That ain’t bad, though, Stone,” the Hispanic coach grinned. “And your windup is just about perfect. I think if you brought your left leg up just a bit more, it’d add a couple mph’s to your fastball.”
“Fastball’s all I got,” Bucky admitted. He tried the higher leg kick and noticed that the ball did seem to have a bit more zip. “Can you show me how to, you know, throw a curve?”
“It’s hard getting a good hook,” the pitching instructor admitted. He came closer and showed the young ballplayer how to grip the ball differently and form a kind of horseshow with his thumb and middle finger. “Then you got to just snap your wrist when you release,” he instructed. “Instead of backspin, you want a whole bunch of forward spin on the ball. That way it cuts down real sharp.”
Bucky tried a couple and winced. “Doesn’t look like it’s bending at all.”
“It’s okay,” Coach Lopez encouraged. “Tell you what. We got JV in about five minutes, but on Thursday, Stone, you come out half an hour early and I’ll try to teach you. Man, if you could get a curve and slider to go with that heater of yours, we might even use you in a game, dude.” He grinned, his teeth gleaming with boyish enthusiasm.
“You’re too much, Stone,” Dan said as they hiked into the locker room. “You’re gonna end up pitching and batting cleanup all at the same time.”
“No way.” Bucky grinned in spite of himself. “It’s kind of cool, though. I like trying it.” He unlaced his cleats and tossed them into his duffel bag after practice. “Think we can take this first game?”
“No sweat. You keep hitting line - drive doubles, like you been doin’ in B.P. and the other team’s pitcher will probably just call in sick.”
Bucky grinned. “Boy, when that one new guy pitches, you can always tell what’s coming. He really tips off his off - speed stuff.”
“I think you hurt his feelings,” Dan told him, peeling off his undershirt. He paused, leaning against the faded green lockers. “You ever think about, you know, talking to Lisa anymore? Julie and I saw her at the mall last night.”
Startled at the abrupt switch in topics, Bucky glanced up at him. He’d just been thinking about the senior girl the evening before. But he shook his head. “Naw. No more for me, Litton. Next year.”
That evening, though, as he finished up a science paper up in his bedroom, his mind returned to the unresolved question of Miss Lisa Nichols. What was happening with her? Was she OK?
Feeling his face redden, he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and dug out an old picture from their freshman year. He was embarrassed about
having it – in fact, none of his family knew the photo was still in the house. For a long moment, he looked at it, remembering. As he glanced at the romantic little message she’d penned on the back, an emotion tugged at him as he saw the familiar handwriting.
He realized with a start that something inside of him was beginning to care more about her than about romance with her. It was a thought he’d never considered before. Could God use him to be a blessing to her . . . especially if he was willing to “let her go”?
Although he tried to express that in his prayer, it was hard to articulate. “I think you know what I mean, Lord,” he muttered at last. “Well, I guess you do know what I mean – I’m just not sure myself what I mean. But if you can make me willing to give Lisa up to you as far as romance is concerned, then please use me to help her if she needs it.” He added a few words in his prayer for Jonesy Wilson, the big basketball center, and also for his newfound friend, Jeff Hilliard.
Thursday between classes he and Dan got wound up in a baseball discussion between classes, causing them both to be late to government class. “Whooh! Teacher ain’t here yet,” Dan grunted in relief, noticing the empty desk at the front of the half - filled classroom. “We got away with one, Stone.”
Several minutes went by before they heard someone at the door. Miss Pendleton, a stocky woman from the registrar’s office, walked in with an uncertain look on her face, “This is government, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Several seniors answered at once.
“I’m afraid we have bad news. Mrs. Randall has had a medical emergency come up, and we just found out she’s going to be out for an extended time. Maybe even the rest of the year.”
A buzz of sympathetic interest spread through the room. Bucky glanced over at his best friend, cocking an eyebrow. “In a way, we’re fortunate that this isn’t a very full class. And there’s another section of it being offered at the same time. Mr. Salomon says we’re going to have to just merge the two together. They’re down in B142, which is around the corner.”
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