Base Ball Dads

by Matthew Hiley

  The crowd went silent. Dave the umpire looked at Dwayne. Dwayne looked at Pastor Jim. Pastor Jim smiled.

  It was on.

  Jonathan rose to his feet, and Dave directed him to jog out to first base. He wiped away the blood as he ran. The crowd clapped for Jonathan, happy that he wasn’t going to the emergency room.

  Steve grabbed Alex’s shoulder before he headed to the plate.

  “Blood for blood, Alex,” Steve grunted, obviously pissed off. Alex had no idea what Steve meant. He just nodded and headed out to bat.

  Noah Harper and Alex Devero had a bit of history. They were thought to be the best players in their age group. The locals had enjoyed watching the two face off as they grew up. With the recent tension between their fathers, the boys’ rivalry had deepened. It was unspoken but highly visible.

  Noah started with a curveball that ventured to the outside, trying to get Alex swinging. It didn’t work. Noah figured he needed to wake Alex up with his next pitch, so he threw one right at him. Alex dove out of the way, and the ball barely missed him.

  Alex hopped to his feet and dusted himself off. He was unfazed. This drove Noah crazy. He tried once more to rattle Alex, sending another speeding ball toward his head. This one was even closer, but Alex dodged it.

  The next pitch, however, was perfect. It had to be, and Alex knew that. Noah had already thrown three balls. He had to throw strikes now. His fourth pitch was fast, low, and right up the middle. Alex waited on it to travel back as far as he could. He cracked it masterfully, sending the ball sailing down the first baseline. It cleared the fence by probably a greater margin than any ball had ever cleared it before.

  Two-run homer. Boom. The tone had been set. Alex could not be shaken. He glanced across to Dwayne as he rounded third base. Alex wasn’t smiling like most kids would have been. There was something far more fierce there. Something deeper. It was the glare of a young badass grandmaster ninja Jedi warrior.

  Noah managed to pull himself together for the next kid, Ace Dale. Ace never even swung the bat. He committed one of the worst crimes you can commit at the plate … he watched three perfect up-the-middle throws in a row and struck out.

  The Mariners came out with their guns blazing. Alex managed to strike the first two batters out, but the third got a small piece of the ball. A fielding error allowed him to make it to first. But then, when Noah took the plate, the tide shifted.

  Noah made excellent contact with Alex’s fastball and hit a screamer over the center fielder’s head to the outfield wall. Eric Rearden, the late Pete Rearden’s son, was playing center field. He made a great throw to his cutoff man at second base. The cutoff was able to pivot perfectly because of the freshly manicured dirt, and he whipped the ball to Jackson at home plate.

  Noah came in for the slide at home just as Jackson caught the ball. Noah raised his leg at the last second, sending his spikes into Jackson’s shin. Jackson fell over hard, and the ball rolled out of his glove as he hit the ground in agony. The dirty move allowed the Mariners to tie the Tigers and caused Jackson to have to sit out for the remainder of the game with a sore and shredded leg.

  The game remained tied at 2–2 until the sixth and final inning. It was a game of “small ball” … very few hits, and exceptional defense.

  The final run of the game was scored by TJ, who managed to hit a solid double and was knocked in by a line-drive triple from Alex. The Mariners managed to get a couple of players on base at the bottom of the sixth, but TJ’s turn at pitching ultimately proved effective, and the Tigers squeaked by with a score of 3–2.

  At the end of the game, the Mariners and the Tigers crossed to the middle of the field to shake hands and offer the obligatory “good game” to one another. When it came time for Noah to shake Jackson’s hand, he dropped his shoulder and knocked Jackson back a few steps. Alex lunged forward and grabbed Noah’s “shaking hand,” whipping him around into a half nelson while twisting his fingers back. Alex demanded that Noah apologize to Jackson for spiking him and pushing him while in line.

  “Hey there, Alex!” Pastor Jim called out. “You stop that right now! Dwayne, don’t you think you should say something here?!”

  The ruckus caused the parents to hurry onto the field, mortified.

  “Yes, Pastor, I do,” Dwayne replied. “Alex, if you twist his fingers while you’re pushing them back, he’ll probably apologize more quickly.”

  Alex did as his father advised, and Noah dropped to his knees. The group of parents gasped.

  Pastor Jim darted toward the boys, but Dwayne stepped in front of him, clutching the front of the pastor’s shirt with both hands. “Don’t even think about it, Jim,” Dwayne growled. “Your boy played dirty. Now he’s gonna apologize.”

  “Come on, Dad, you fucking pussy!” Noah screamed in pain. “Hit that fucking low-rent yard guy and get this asshole off of me!”

  The pastor and his wife were shocked and embarrassed. The other parents pulled their kids away from the melee and attempted to cover their ears, protecting them from further profanity. Dave the umpire chuckled.

  None of this deterred Alex. He twisted Noah’s fingers harder. Any more, and bones would break.

  “DAAAAAD! DAAAAD!” Noah yelled. “Fuck! Fine! Okay! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  Alex let go of Noah’s hand, and Dwayne released Pastor Jim’s shirt. Jedi-ninja warrior father and son returned to the dugout. The rest of the Tigers followed. The Mariners stayed, crumpled in defeat, in the middle of the field.

  Dwayne asked the boys to take a seat on the bench.

  “Normally, we’d be out in the field for our postgame talk,” he said, turning and pointing to where the other team was still attempting to figure out what the hell had just happened. “But today, there’s too much trash on the field. So we’ll do it here.”

  Dwayne glared out at Pastor Jim from the dugout. Pastor Jim was glaring back. Dwayne shot him a quick middle finger. The pastor scowled.

  “You did good today, team,” Dwayne continued. “We lost a key player early on, and you banded together and carried the weight. Alex, I’m proud of you for standing up for Jackson. That’s what soldiers do in the game of baseball. That’s called honor. That’s called brotherhood.”

  “They whipped out their peckers and tried to piss all over you boys,” Russ interrupted, slurring horribly. “And you pulled out a goddamn umbrella and blocked that shit! Ain’t nobody gonna piss on these boys! Am I right?!”

  Russ threw a hand up and looked around for a high five. Tommy finally gave him one out of pity. Dwayne analyzed the level at which the Tigers parents were offended and decided that they should have been used to it by now.

  “There’s a code that we can live by as we grow, men,” Dwayne said to the boys, and he hoped his fellow coaches would realize that he was speaking to them as well. “It’s a choice we make to follow this code. I can see you beginning to grasp it. I’m glad to see that. It’s a ninja code. It’s a Jedi code. It’s a superhero code. And let me tell you … it works. And you are beginning to exemplify that code. The code is pretty simple: Don’t take shit from anyone, and don’t give shit to anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Play the game of life and the game of baseball with honor.”

  It was silent in the dugout. The boys let Dwayne’s words permeate their brains.

  “Here’s the thing, boys,” Dwayne continued. “Let this sink in: the playoffs are double elimination, and—”

  “That’s different than double penetration, in case you were wondering,” Russ added. He raised his arm up in search of a high five again, but this time he found no takers.

  “Jesus Christ, Russ, maybe you should just tell some abortion jokes,” Steve offered in disgust.

  “That’s it! I can’t do this anymore!” Holly Dale yelled. “Ace, get your bag! I’m reporting these coaches to the league! We’re leaving!”

  “Be quiet, Mom!” Ace snapped back. “Coach Dwayne is speaking.”

  Russ put the whistle in his mouth, but Tommy
ripped it out before he could blow.

  Dwayne reached his hand out to Ace for a fist bump. He was beginning to like the kid.

  “Like I was saying, the playoffs are double elimination. There’s only one more game before the championship. That means that whether we win or lose our next game, we will be playing in the championship game this Saturday. I don’t expect to lose our next game. The team we just played will most likely be the one we play on Saturday. And they will play harder next time. They will play dirtier next time. But if you continue to follow the code, we will destroy them. There will be blood … and blood makes the grass grow.”

  Dwayne could see the intense excitement growing inside them.

  “NOW BRING IT IN, TIGERS! TIGERS KILL, ON THREE!”

  Dwayne screamed with a fire in his eyes.

  “ONE … TWO … THREE … TIGERS KILL!!!”

  On their way to the parking lot, after everyone had gathered their things, Russ handed Tommy and Kelly each a bottle of ice-cold water. “There ya go, Tom,” Russ said. “That’s a little apology gift from me for slipping you acid on the golf course this morning.”

  “That’s sweet, Russ,” Kelly replied. Tommy was still about 80 percent unable to speak.

  Russ failed to mention to Tommy and Kelly that he had dosed each of their water bottles with roofies.

  55.

  After dinner that night, Dwayne walked Alex upstairs to his bedroom and tucked him into bed. He told his son how proud he was for standing up to Noah. Alex told his dad how much fun he’d been having since he took over the team. He begged his dad to coach every year.

  “I’ll do it, son,” Dwayne told him. “I promise.”

  Estelle didn’t need to do much to coax Dwayne into the shower that night. She merely stripped off her clothes slowly and silently, staring at Dwayne the whole time, and glanced back over her shoulder at him as she walked away into the master bathroom. There was something about her—that glow that came from being pregnant, perhaps; it made him forget about how tired he was, and how concerned he was that their world might come crashing down.

  Estelle finally passed out cold after making love to Dwayne three times. Dwayne couldn’t sleep. He climbed out of bed, making sure not to wake his sleeping beauty, and made his way into his closet. He pulled down the large box containing his Batman outfit and put the costume on.

  The large bat went to the kitchen and grabbed a six-pack of beer. He then walked to the medicine cabinet and reached up to the back corner until his hands found his stash of weed. Dwayne then took great care in meticulously rolling a perfect joint.

  He crept outside into his garage and found his ladder and, making as little noise as possible, placed it up against the side of his house. Purposefully, he climbed up onto the roof, to the highest point, and looked out around the neighborhood. He understood the symbolism of how profound and noble a silhouette he was probably casting against the large Texas moon. The wind blowing through his cape humbled him.

  Dwayne looked all around in every direction, drinking his beer and sparking up his joint. He could smell the humidity forming in the air and hear the growing rustle of the leaves in the trees. He watched the wind carry the pot smoke a few houses away before it finally broke apart into nothing. The clouds offered a gentle rumble. There was a flash of light off in the distance.

  A storm was coming.

  56.

  The next morning, as the sun came piping through Tommy’s bedroom window, a shrill shriek pierced the early solitude. Kelly sat up on her side of the bed, gasping. Tommy leapt up, thinking someone must have been dead for her to make such a sound.

  “WHAT THE FUCK, TOM?!” she yelled.

  Laying totally nude on top of the covers between a totally nude Kelly and Tommy Johnson was Russ Paisley. He was smiling, face up, with his hands clasped behind his head.

  “WHAT THE FUCK, RUSS?!” Tommy screamed.

  “Oh, come on now, you two,” Russ bragged as he sparked up a cigarette. “Don’t go pulling that walk of shame stuff with me! You couldn’t get enough of my raw sexuality last night!”

  “Sweet JESUS, Russ! What did you do?!” Tommy barked.

  “What did I do? Hell, what didn’t I do?” Russ laughed. “You guys wanna go again? My little fella is waking up!”

  Kelly shot a glance down toward Russ’s not-so-flaccid yet tiny penis and began to dry heave. She got up and sprinted toward the bathroom, where she could be heard seconds later emptying her stomach into the toilet.

  “Jesus, Russ! What the hell is wrong with you? This is so wrong! I don’t remember anything! Goddammit, what did you do to us?” Tommy frantically prodded.

  “I got even, bitch! That’s what I did! Doesn’t feel so good now, does it? I was the cream filling in a sexy chocolate cookie last night! And oh my god, Kelly is amazing!”

  “You son of a bitch!”

  Kelly came wobbling out of the bathroom. Russ jumped up on the end of the bed and began bouncing to twirl his microscopic manhood around beneath his flabby mass of a hairy stomach. “You know you loved it, Kelly,” Russ goaded with a wanton snarl. “You motorboated my belly button last night when things got kinky.”

  Kelly raced back to the toilet and began to throw up again. Tommy hurled a pillow at Russ’s face, causing him to lose his balance and fall backward off the bed.

  “You crossed the line, Russ! You had nonconsensual sex with my wife, bro!”

  “Not just your wife, Tom!”

  Tommy’s jaw dropped open. He clasped his hand over his mouth.

  “That’s it, I’m getting my gun!” Tommy yelled as he bolted out of his bed and headed for the closet.

  Russ took off running, grabbing his clothes along the way. Tommy wasn’t far behind. He burst through the front door, nude and brandishing a pistol, as Russ’s Ferrari rumbled to life and peeled out sideways down the street.

  Tommy moseyed slowly back toward his front door, paying little attention to the elderly couple next door shaking their heads in disappointment as they walked their Shih Tzu.

  Tommy could hear his phone beeping on his nightstand, alerting him to a text message, when he strolled back into house. Russ had started the text chain back up.

  RUSS:

  I bet your neighbors are happy they let a black guy move in. Way to go against the stereotype, waving a gun around naked in your yard. Maybe you should blast some rap music and drink some purple soda.

  TOMMY:

  YOU WENT TOO FAR, RUSS!

  STEVE:

  Oh lord, what did he do now?

  TOMMY:

  He had sex with my wife!

  RUSS:

  I got all up in Tommy too.

  STEVE:

  Didn’t you have sex with Russ’s wife, Tom?

  TOMMY:

  Stay out of this, Steve!

  STEVE:

  You guys texted me, dick.

  RUSS:

  Exactly! You had sex with my wife!

  TOMMY:

  Yeah, but she WANTED IT! Kelly didn’t want it!

  RUSS:

  That’s not what she said last night!

  STEVE:

  Kinda splitting hairs here, aren’t we Tom?

  RUSS:

  You wanted it too, Tiberius.

  STEVE:

  You’re gay now, Tom?

  TOMMY:

  No! I’m not gay!

  RUSS:

  You were last night.

  STEVE:

  That makes you gay too, Russ.

  RUSS:

  Shut the fuck up, Steve! It was revenge!

  STEVE:

  It was gay revenge.

  RUSS:

  Shut the fuck up, Steve! Stop texting!

  STEVE:

  Dude, YOU texted ME. You obviously just hopped back on a previous text chain instead of messaging Tommy directly!

  DAVE:

  Uou had sex wiht Tomy, Russ?

  RUSS:

  Oh Jesus. Why the fuck are you texting, Dave?

 
TOMMY:

  I’m going to kill you, you hairy little bastard!

  DAVE:

  Do I nede to dog anuther hole?

  DAVE:

  Dg.

  DAVE:

  Dig. Shit.

  DAVE:

  Dog. Haha. That’s funy.

  RUSS:

  We’re even now, Tom!

  STEVE:

  Except for the gay part.

  TOMMY:

  How do you sleep at night, Russ?

  RUSS:

  On a really soft pillow, you black bastard!

  DAVE:

  Whut kind of pllow you use? I nede a new one.

  STEVE:

  Great convo, guys. Thanks for including me. I’m going to go huff some paint and try to forget this.

  DAVE:

  I huff gas.

  STEVE:

  Thanks, Dave. You’re always an intellectual powerhouse. See you guys at the game tomorrow.

  Dwayne didn’t respond to the text thread this time. He simply sat back and watched. It pained him to see how out of control Russ and Tommy had become. Having sex with each other’s wives was far outside the code. Their behavior was a bitter disappointment.

  After showering up with Estelle and having a heaping helping of morning nookie, Dwayne made breakfast for the family and took Alex to school. He drove to his office and parked beside his Audi.

  Dwayne’s fingers gripped his steering wheel tightly. He suddenly felt the urge to skip work, get high, and drive fast. He kept telling himself that regardless of the mounting pressure, he had to remain a Jedi.

  He hopped out of his truck and walked to the back, grabbing his baseball gear out of the bed of his truck and throwing it in the trunk of the Audi. He then hopped into the Audi and hauled ass home.

  The Audi squealed to a stop in front of Dwayne’s house. Dwayne went inside and put the Batman costume on again, and then rolled a behemoth joint. He hopped back in the Audi, sparked up the joint, and turned up Metallica’s cover of the Queen song “Stone Cold Crazy.”