by Jim Stovall
Stanley beamed as he watched his son riding his bike for the first time without training wheels. Eddy was a picture in focus and concentration as he shakily piloted the bicycle down the driveway.
Stanley called, “Be careful, son.”
Eddy’s laughter could be heard fading into the distance as Stanley’s dream, once again, abruptly ended. He awoke, as usual, in his son’s bed lamenting the fact that he seemed to be doomed to reliving the last great moment in his life just before he awoke each morning and was faced with the reality of a cold, cruel, and unforgiving world.
Stanley sat up and gazed around his son’s room that displayed all of the familiar mementos that proved how much his life had changed.
From the angle of the sun’s rays slanting through Eddy’s window, Stanley could tell that it was late in the morning. He grumbled and got to his feet, thinking how he used to be a morning person who enjoyed the beginning of each new day; but that was when joy and excitement had been part of his world.
As he stumbled out of Eddy’s room, the clock showed that it was 10 o’clock, and Stanley realized he was still wearing his clothes from the day before. He rubbed his face and thought there was a time in his life when things like that had mattered.
It was only a few steps down the hallway to the home office. Stanley rounded the corner and walked through the door to what used to be a productive place filled with energy. Now it seemed like a museum of memories that paid tribute to a long gone time that could never be recaptured.
There were several pictures on the wall of Eddy playing baseball with his teammates. Stanley had been proud to be their coach and had wanted those photos around him as it was such an important part of his life, but that had been then.
The bookshelves were filled with more baseball memorabilia and several technical manuals that bore the author’s name Stanley Walters.
Stanley had never wanted to do anything for a career other than be a writer. He remembered the pride and promise he had felt when he held one of those newly published books in his hands for the first time. Now they lined up on the shelf like a firing squad that looked menacingly down on him as he sat at his desk and stared at a blank computer screen.
Stanley remembered the days when he would get into a creative flow, and the words seemed to effortlessly appear on the page. Back then, he couldn’t imagine a time when he wouldn’t or couldn’t write.
Stanley glanced at the answering machine on his desk and saw the light blinking. He knew that no one would be calling him with good news. Stanley sighed and braced himself as he pushed the button on the machine and heard the first message.
“This message is for Stanley Walters. This is Melinda with World Card Visa. Your payment on the Visa ending in 0516 is now 120 days past due. Please contact our offi…”
Stanley had heard enough, and he pushed the button to listen to the next message.
“Mr. Walters, this is Steve with Allied Collections again about your overdue mortgage payment. We didn’t get the check you promised. If we don’t get something soon, we are going to be forced to…”
Stanley thought, Same song, different verse as he hit the button once again.
He heard a familiar voice say, “Stan, this is Joel. You remember, your publisher? Hey, man, I need to hear from you right away. I can’t get you any more extensions. If I don’t get your pages by the end of the month, I am going to need to get that advance back. Don’t make me do that. Just call me.”
Stanley sat silently and stared at the blank computer screen before him. His dog, Cooper, entered the room and sat at Stanley’s feet and stared up into his face.
Cooper was a pit bull/lab mix with sprinklings of many other breeds. He carried himself with dignity and intelligence, seeming to pull the best from every branch of his heritage. Cooper stared at Stanley as if he wanted to help, but somehow he knew that what Stanley needed most was a silent, understanding, and forgiving companion.
After what could have been a few minutes or a few hours, Stanley got up and began to walk aimlessly down the hallway and out the front door. Stanley had no idea where he was going or why he was walking. Cooper matched his stride confidently as he knew exactly where Stanley was going.
Stanley plodded down the picturesque, tree-lined street with Cooper trotting alongside. Moving into this neighborhood had been a great source of pride and joy for Stanley just a few short years ago, but now he might as well have been living in a desert. All of the sights, scenes, and precious memories ceased to be part of Stanley’s life on a fateful day two years before.
Without thinking about where he was going or why he was going there, Stanley rounded the corner at the end of the block and approached a neighborhood park where the Little League baseball diamond was located. Cooper bounded ahead confidently, knowing their destination was in sight, as Stanley walked along in a trance, oblivious of the sights and sounds of the park and the local youth team, The Tigers, practicing on the field.
Sam, the elderly groundskeeper for the park, noticed Stanley and Cooper approaching. Sam immediately recognized Stanley from Eddy’s funeral. Even though Sam had been standing some distance away from the gravesite, he instantly recognized Stanley and the expression of bitterness and anger on his face.
CHAPTER 3
The Tigers, the local youth baseball team, were practicing on the field in the neighborhood park. Sam, the groundskeeper, always liked to watch the kids practice, so he arranged his schedule of duties so that he would be cleaning a tractor at the edge of the field during the practice.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sam continued to watch Stanley and Cooper approaching, and he looked on as they sat down in the bleachers.
Sam ambled over to where Stanley and Cooper were sitting and watching the kids on the field. Sam called a greeting. “Hey, there.”
Stanley turned his head toward Sam and nodded without expression.
Sam continued. “Which one is yours?”
“Huh?” Stanley seemed confused.
Sam pointed toward the field by way of explanation and said, “Kid. Which one is yours?”
Stanley grimaced and mumbled, “None, actually. I don’t have any children.”
Sam nodded as if everything was starting to make sense and uttered, “Ah.”
Stanley continued to stare blankly toward the kids playing baseball. As the silence stretched out, Sam became uncomfortable.
Finally, Sam offered, “My name is Sam.”
Stanley muttered, “Uh-huh.”
Sam was undaunted and pointed toward Cooper, asking, “And who is this fine specimen?”
Stanley was starting to be annoyed by Sam. He glared toward him, then glanced down at Cooper, and resumed watching the baseball practice.
Finally, realizing Sam wasn’t going to leave, Stanley said, “Cooper.”
Sam reached down to pet Cooper, but Cooper immediately extended his paw to shake. Sam chuckled and shook Cooper’s paw.
Sam bowed slightly and said, “Well, hello, Cooper. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Cooper wagged his tail in response.
Stanley, Cooper, and Sam all stared silently at the field for several moments.
Finally, Stanley blurted, “That coach is worthless.”
Sam inquired, “How do you mean?”
Stanley explained, “That pitcher has got an arm, but he is throwing all wrong. A good coach would catch that.”
Sam chuckled and said, “That’s Josh… She can throw the ball all right.”
Just then the catcher pulled off his mask and ran out to the mound to talk to the pitcher. As they both removed their caps, the pitcher’s long hair fell down around her shoulders.
Stanley nodded with understanding and said, “Oh, I see.”
Sam added, “Yeah, Josh is a great kid. I believe she is one of Miss Esther’s kids.”
Stanley followed Sam’s gaze over to the opposite bleachers where an older black woman was seated with a group of kids gathered around her.
Sam seemed surprised and asked, “How do you mean?”
Stanley explained emphatically, “Miss Esther lives right next to me with all of those foster kids. They’re all trouble. I’m pretty sure one of them stole my air pump.”
Sam replied dismissively, “Oh, really? I’ll be sure to do that.”
Finally, Sam realized that Stanley was not going to be engaged in any further conversation, so Sam patted Cooper on the head, glanced at Stanley who ignored him, and turned and walked back toward the tractor to complete his maintenance duties.
Eventually, Stanley stood up and walked away from the ball field with Cooper dutifully trotting along beside him.
Baseball had always been an important part of Stanley’s life and a major source of camaraderie between Stanley and his son Eddy. Stanley enjoyed balancing his roles between being a proud father and a committed baseball coach for Eddy’s team.
Since Eddy had been gone, Stanley couldn’t even find the joy he had once experienced through baseball. He wondered if anything would ever be the same again.
Since Stanley had not been able to find it within himself to continue his career as a writer, he almost resented the distraction and the release that Lisa seemed to find in her job at the fitness club.
Lisa had always enjoyed working out and staying physically fit. It made her feel better in two ways: there was the energy and healthy feeling she got from being in shape, and then there was the reaction she got from others who noticed how attractive she was.
As she glanced around the spacious health club floor with all of the gleaming equipment, mirrors, and various people going through their routines, Lisa could lose herself and her pain in the mindless activity of doing her job and instructing her clients.
As usual, James Stafford—a physically fit, attractive guy in his 30s—seemed to need Lisa’s advice and attention more than anyone else. Lisa was not oblivious to his attraction to her, and since she seemed invisible to Stanley, she welcomed the attention.
When she had thoroughly given James Stafford instruction and a demonstration of a particular piece of exercise equipment, and at the point he seemed more interested in flirting than exercising, she excused herself and headed for the Cycle Studio.
Lisa noticed one of her friends and clients, Deb, peddling one of the cycles. As Lisa approached, Deb pointed toward James Stafford and asked, “So, would that guy be considered a client…or a perk?”
Lisa shrugged, feigning ignorance, and said, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
Deb exclaimed, “Lord have mercy. That man never takes his eyes off of you.”
Lisa replied knowingly, “It’s not the eyes I have to worry about.”
Deb replied conspiratorially, “Ooooooh, really?!”
Lisa interjected, “Stop. I’m married.”
Deb nodded at James Stafford and asked, “Does he know that?” Deb explained, “It’s hard to tell when you’re not wearing a ring.”
Lisa looked down at her hand, almost embarrassed, and tried to explain to Deb—and maybe to her own conscience, “You know I don’t wear it when I’m working.”
Deb blurted, “I’m just saying. Not that I blame you, I mean…”
Lisa interrupted her and motioned for Deb to be silent, uttering, “Shh.”
At that very moment, James strutted into the room. He smiled, holding eye contact with Lisa, and walked past them and got onto an exercise bicycle a short two stations away from them.
Lisa politely nodded at him.
Deb emotionally commented under her breath, “Aye, aye, aye. When was the last time Stanley looked at you like that?”
Lisa scolded her. “Deb, leave him alone.”
Lisa began to walk away, but Deb got off the bicycle and followed her. When Deb caught up, she shot Lisa a sidelong glance and said, “He doesn’t appreciate you. That’s all I’m saying.”
Lisa stopped at the door and turned to Deb and said emotionally, “Deb, his son died! The issue is a little more complex than if he ‘appreciates’ me or not.”
Deb shot back, “He was your son, too!”
“Which is why I have patience for what he’s going through!” Lisa responded then turned and walked out the door, leaving Deb behind.
As Lisa walked out of the fitness club and headed home for the day, she was struck by the fact that she wasn’t sure if she loved or even liked Stanley anymore, but she was at least willing to defend him and her memories of the life they had once had.
CHAPTER 4
That night, everything seemed calm and peaceful in the Walters’ neighborhood. The orderly rows of houses were well-maintained, and the mature trees that had been there for decades gave the neighborhood a permanent and stable feel.
Inside the Walters’ kitchen, everything seemed orderly, but there was a quiet tension bordering on distress.
Lisa took store-bought chicken potpies out of the oven and automatically set them on the table. Stanley walked in with a magazine and sat down at his place without saying a word. He opened his magazine and started to read as if he were alone in the room.
Lisa said in a matter-of-fact tone, “Deb is having a garage sale to raise money for the Tigers’ baseball uniforms. I’m going to take some of my old clothes.”
She paused for a moment and continued cautiously. “Maybe we could clean out the garage and donate some things.”
Stanley was totally oblivious to Lisa and seemed to be engrossed in his magazine. He muttered, “Sure, whatever.”
Lisa, sensing she was being ignored, proclaimed, “Oh, and I think that guy from the club is finally going to ask me out.”
Stanley answered mindlessly, “Great.”
Lisa sighed and said, “Stanley, you’re not listening to me.”
Stanley replied with venom, “I’m listening. You’re just not saying anything important.”
Lisa suppressed her frustration and tried to change the subject. “So, how did it go today? Did you make any progress on your book?”
Stanley looked up for a brief second, glared at Lisa, and then began eating his pot pie.
Lisa tried to connect again. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I was just trying to have a little conversation.”
Stanley shot back, “So you nag me.”
Lisa got upset, raising her voice. “I’m not trying to nag you. I just wish you would talk to me.”
Stanley slammed his magazine on the table in frustration, stared at Lisa, and challenged, “OK, talk!”
Lisa just stared at him. She was deeply hurt, once again. It seemed to her as if this was a constant state they were living in.
Stanley broke the silence. “Come on, talk. You have my undivided attention. TALK!”
Lisa stared at him in disbelief. Finally she tried to speak softly. “I just wanted to know if you have made any progress on your book. That’s all.”
Stanley’s anger grew, and he blurted, “Why don’t you say what you’re really thinking!”
Lisa implored, “Stanley, don’t do this again.”
Stanley wouldn’t or couldn’t let it go. “Come on, Lisa. Say it. Ask me what I was thinking. How I could ever let that happen.”
Stanley was broken. Lisa slumped over the table and began to cry. Stanley turned and announced, “I gotta go.”
Through her tears, Lisa watched Stanley walk out of the room and slam the door as he left the house. She wasn’t sure what to do or if anything could even be done. Their lives were shattered in a million pieces, and there didn’t seem to be any way to put it all back together. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to try anymore.
Lisa finally cleaned up the meager dinner dishes and went to bed alone. She slept fitfully all night and was jarred awake, once again, by the ever-present alarm clock. She felt old and exhausted as she rolled over and, once again, confirmed that the other side of the bed had not been slept in.
Lisa wen
t to her closet and began sorting through her clothes and laying certain items she selected on the bed. She thought, At least I can get a head start on things for Deb’s garage sale. She knew it was for a good cause as the Little League team certainly needed new uniforms.
Meanwhile, Stanley was out in the garage surveying the mess that had not been touched in many months. Stanley walked back and forth in front of the stack of boxes without really getting anything done.
Lisa finished gathering the items for the garage sale from her closet and took an empty box, walked into Eddy’s room, and set the box on his bed. She looked at the various pictures of Eddy on the dresser, and she smiled softly. She took a deep breath and set her resolve.
Lisa walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. All of Eddy’s clothes were folded and lined up neatly, just as they had been two years ago. She surveyed everything for a few moments, and then she began gathering items until she came across a baseball jersey with the number 7 on the back. She picked it up and held it to her face, breathing in the fragrance. She smiled, remembering better days. She folded the jersey and placed it back in the drawer as she continued gathering other clothes and setting them in the box.
Lisa felt guilty and triumphant at the same time as she gathered more of Eddy’s things for the garage sale. She thought to herself that Eddy would be willing to sell any of his things if he knew the funds would go to buy new baseball uniforms. Eddy would have lived in his baseball uniform if Lisa would have let him. He was convinced that once you made the baseball team and got a real uniform, you didn’t really need any other clothes.
Lisa feared Stanley’s reaction to her removing things from Eddy’s room, but she believed that an angry reaction would be preferable to being ignored. Something had to change in their lives, and Lisa was confident that it couldn’t get much worse.
CHAPTER 5
Lisa carried the box that contained the items to be donated for the garage sale to raise money for new Little League baseball uniforms. She had found a lot of unwanted clothing and household items for the sale, but as she walked out of the house onto the front porch carrying the box, she could only think of Eddy’s things that she had removed from his room. The box wasn’t very heavy to carry, but the emotional weight of anticipating Stanley’s reaction to her getting rid of Eddy’s things was unimaginable.
