Base Ball Dads

by Matthew Hiley

He finally walked over to home plate and ripped his mask off, then stared up at the sky angrily while shaking his bat.

  “YOU THINK YOU CAN DESTROY ME?!” he screamed until veins on his forehead popped out. “I’M A MOTHERFUCKING SABERTOOTH CAPED CRUSADER JEDI GRANDMASTER NINJA WARRIOR MOTHERFUCKER, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

  Just then, as if right on cue, all of the lights on the baseball field lit up. Dwayne’s scream toward the skies didn’t even have a chance to echo. His eyes went wide. He looked all around. Everything seemed to be spinning. The green of the grass was almost electric, offset only by the brightness of the blood that flowed from Russ and Tommy and was splashed all over Steve’s face. It had all been so dark just seconds before.

  BANG! The door to the refreshment stand was suddenly kicked open. From deep in the shadows, the figure of Detective Loffland emerged.

  The detective began clapping slowly as he walked along the fence line to the gate, and made his way out onto the field.

  “Well done, Dwayne,” he said. “Well done.”

  66.

  Dwayne was panicking inside. His heart raced wildly, nearly beating out of his chest. He was still breathing heavily. He was drenched in blood and holding a murder weapon. He wanted to run.

  He had a baby on the way … and what would Alex think?

  Suddenly, calmness overtook him. He took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled. Something inside told him that this wasn’t the end for him. He was a dark knight. He was a Jedi. He was still in control.

  “That was quite a performance there, Dwayne,” Detective Loffland said. “I was wondering how long it would take before you took a bat to Russ’s skull. I have to admit that I was a little bit surprised to see you take out Tommy, though. And with such savagery! Damn! I kept thinking that Steve would be next … but maybe you’re not done, huh? Did I interrupt?”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve jumped in. “I’ve always been a faithful friend to Dwayne. Don’t lump me in with those guys.”

  “It’s true,” Dwayne added. “Steve has always been a—wait, how in the hell did you know it was me, Detective? How did you know to come here?”

  “The NSA, Homeland Security, the Patriot Act. You pick,” Detective Loffland smirked. “I’ve been reading your texts from the beginning. You guys fucking party, bro. No doubt about it. You see … at first I was just reading Dave’s texts, because he’s been dealing drugs forever, and he’s such a blistering dumbass. Then I was tipped off about Russ’s massive cocaine intake, so I started reading his texts too. And then, BOOM. You guys start killing people left and right, and I’m reading the whole thing as it’s happening. It was pretty sweet. The thing is, though … these guys were all major assholes. Most of them had screwed over the police department at one point or another. I never felt the need to tell anyone what I knew. I know it sounds strange coming from a guy in a police uniform, but I didn’t give a shit. It was vigilante justice. I wanted to see how far you’d take it. And holy fuck, you didn’t disappoint.”

  Dwayne looked over at Russ’s dead body and yelled. “I told you, dumbass! Stop texting!”

  “He’s done texting now, Dwayne,” the detective pointed out. “But back to your buddy Steve here. Do you ever get the feeling he’ll have a hard time keeping his mouth shut about all of this? I mean, you’re onto something huge here, man! Think of the good that you could do if you never got caught!”

  Dwayne paused and cocked his head sideways. He had no idea where the detective was going with things.

  “Have you really thought this through, Big D?” Loffland continued. “I mean, what’s your next move here, chief?”

  “Well, I have to admit,” Dwayne said. “You showing up here makes me a tad unsure of my future, but I do have a plan.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “Okay, well, I was going to bash in Russ and Tommy’s skulls and bury the bodies where they’d never be found, then load up Estelle and Alex into an RV I just bought, and disappear forever. I faked a break-in at my office earlier today and stole all of the cash from my safe. I left some of my own blood on the wall to make it look like I was killed in the robbery. Also, I know that Russ has a few million bucks stashed in a safe in his closet, so I figured I’d text his wife to get her out of the house in a few minutes. Then, I’d wipe some of his blood around his closet, take his loot, and haul ass with a sizable fortune. With all of the people that have gone missing recently, I figured no one would ever find out.”

  “Wow,” Detective Loffland nodded. “That’s not bad. Let me ask you, all those people that went missing—where are they? Are they really buried here like the texts implied?”

  “Yup. Under every base. Except Pete Rearden. I ground him up and spread him around. It turns out that pieces of shit in the hands of a lawn artist really can make a ballpark look better. You can’t tell me this place doesn’t look amazing.”

  Detective Loffland chuckled and nodded.

  “But seriously, Dwayne. What the fuck happened inside your head?” the detective asked. “You went completely primal in a way I’ve never seen.”

  Dwayne gathered his thoughts for a moment.

  “In the words of the great H. L. Mencken, sir, ‘Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.’ Well, I was tempted, and I acted on it. These were awful people, Detective. They pushed people around. They destroyed their lives to make themselves feel better. No one was ever going to stop them. And baseball, man … the things they were doing to the game I loved, it just wasn’t fair. Someone had to bring some balance to the universe … some justice.”

  “You decided to spit on your hands and start slitting throats.”

  “Yes. Well, kind of. I preferred a bat.”

  The detective spun around and looked over at Steve and Dave the umpire again. They were dumbfounded. He scratched his head before turning to address Dwayne again.

  “I like you, Dwayne,” the detective said sternly to Dwayne. “I’m normally not too big on serial killers, but you’re a pretty good motherfucker, bro. I like the way you take out the trash. We could do big things together. We just need to tie up a couple of loose ends first.”

  “Like what?” Dwayne asked.

  Detective Loffland whipped around, pulled his .40 caliber police-issue pistol from his holster, and put a bullet between Steve’s eyebrows. Steve flew backwards, his feet flipping over his head, doing a complete reverse somersault. He was killed instantly.

  “That was awesome!” Dave yelled. “I had no idea that people could do so many cool things when they died! I mean, shit, the top of Tommy’s head—it went all the way to right field like a damn Frisbee! And that was totally sweet, but it wasn’t near as cool as Ricky Dale! Man, you guys shoulda seen that one! And Steve! Oh, man, Steve just did a backflip! At least tell me to get my camera out next time so I can record this shit!”

  “Get your camera out, Dave,” Detective Loffland smiled.

  “Nice! Thank you!” Dave the umpire said with joy before watching Detective Loffland’s gun raise toward him. “Aw, man—”

  The detective put three bullets in the middle of Dave’s chest. Dave stumbled backward a few feet but remained upright. He had a confused look on his face.

  “This sucks, bro,” Dave muttered. “Everyone else got to do cool shit before they died. I just—”

  “Give it a second, Dave,” the detective interrupted. “Your body is too stupid to realize it’s been shot. It’ll figure it out in a second.”

  “Whatever, man,” Dave shrugged.

  He frowned at Detective Loffland, then fell forward, landing flat on his face.

  “There we go,” the detective continued. “Okay, so, the loose ends are now tied up.”

  The detective reached into his pocket and handed Dwayne a cell phone.

  “Here,” he said. “Take this. Keep it with you always. If I ever need you to help me hoist that black flag, I’ll call you. And you’d better answer.”

/>   “Are you sure?” Dwayne asked, completely in awe of the detective.

  “Yes. I like your style, man. I can’t lie. Your methods may be unorthodox, to say the least, but you get results. And at the end of the day, I’m in the results business. So go text Jade, go get that money, and get the fuck out of town. I’ll take care of the bodies. And watch the news. I’ve got a pretty good way to bring some closure for the community. It’s goddamn hilarious. I think you’ll appreciate it.”

  Dwayne extended his hand to the detective. He enjoyed their handshakes. He appreciated shaking hands with a good guy who didn’t take shit from anyone. He had a feeling he’d see the detective again some day.

  As Dwayne turned to walk toward his vehicle after pulling Russ’s cell phone from his pocket and soaking some blood up into his shirt, the detective called out to him.

  “Dwayne. One last thing. Get a new costume, okay? You’re not Batman. You’re not a Jedi. You’re something bigger … something real. The people need someone like you, whether they know it or not. I look forward to seeing what you’ve come up with when we meet again.”

  Dwayne nodded and grinned.

  “Yes, sir.”

  67.

  Russ had often bragged to Dwayne and the others about all of the cash he kept in an unlocked safe in his closet. They never knew whether or not to believe him, though. Dwayne was thrilled to see that he’d been telling the truth.

  In a massive steel walk-in safe, behind an impressive collection of multicolored dildos, varying sizes of buttplugs, a pair of solid gold handcuffs, a mountain of cocaine, a large Tupperware container of weed, and several bottles of pills, stood stack after stack of $100 bills. There had to be $15 million. Maybe more. Dwayne grabbed a couple of Jade’s designer suitcases, packed the money in, wiped some of Russ’s blood around, and headed to the Audi.

  He texted Estelle once he was on his way.

  DWAYNE:

  Hi honeybuns.

  ESTELLE:

  Hey there, sugarweenie.

  DWAYNE:

  Remember when I said to be thinking about what you would take with you if we had to haul ass in a flash, cupcake nipples?

  ESTELLE:

  I sure do, babynuts.

  DWAYNE:

  Great, I … Wait. Babynuts? What the fuck are babynuts? I have normal-sized nuts.

  ESTELLE:

  Sorry, sweetie. You have great nuts. I was trying to think of something that sounded sexy and delicious about your balls. That was more of a reference to them being shaved … hairless, like a baby’s nuts.

  DWAYNE:

  Yeah, let’s not bring infants into the sex talk, okay, honey? That’s just creepy.

  ESTELLE:

  Okay, candysack. Anyhow, yes, I remember you telling me to think about what I’d bring with me. Why?

  DWAYNE:

  Get it all together. Throw Alex’s stuff together, too. We leave in 30 minutes.

  The media and fans were still camped out in Dwayne’s front yard when he whipped back in to the driveway. He smiled and waved as he maneuvered the car through them, down his driveway, and into his gated backyard again.

  Dwayne jumped out of the Audi, clutched the suitcases full of cash, and knocked on the side door of the RV. Uzi popped out and unlocked the luggage compartments beneath the passenger cabin. Dwayne loaded up the suitcases, and he and Uzi headed inside the house.

  For the next several minutes, Dwayne, Estelle, and Uzi loaded the RV with boxes and duffel bags containing only the absolute most important items that Dwayne’s family accumulated over a lifetime. It was mostly photo albums, family heirlooms, and clothes.

  Shortly after, the gate to the driveway opened, and the black Audi pulled out, stopping in the middle of the crowd. The window rolled halfway down to reveal a smiling Batman. The crowd went crazy.

  “You guys remember that little drive I took a few days ago?” Batman yelled from the car, revving his engine.

  Everyone screamed and cheered.

  “Let’s do it again!” he shouted. “Who’s coming with me?”

  All of the media and fans ran to their vehicles and started their engines. Dwayne’s front yard was emptied out in less than a minute.

  Dwayne and Estelle watched from their window as Uzi (with a duffel bag full of cash) led more than a hundred cars down the road, out of the neighborhood, and onto the freeway. They ran upstairs and grabbed Alex, who’d fallen asleep watching SportsCenter in his bed, and made their way to the RV.

  Dwayne, Estelle, and Alex pulled out of the driveway completely undetected in the dark of night, leaving the west side of Fort Worth in their rearview mirror.

  68.

  “This is Gretchen Lopez with a Breaking News flash here on GNN, the Global News Network.

  “Dwayne Devero, the everyman hero seen in recent days leading the Dallas and Fort Worth police departments on a high-speed chase while wearing a Batman costume and cursing about the many shortcomings of Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones, the same Dwayne Devero who was then seen coaching his little league baseball team into the history books, is missing and presumed dead, along with his wife, Estelle, and their son, rising baseball sensation Alex Devero.”

  Dwayne rustled from his sleep as Estelle nudged him. She was pointing at the large HD flat screen that hung in the massive mobile bedroom suite. Dwayne looked and listened intently.

  “It appears as though the death toll now sits at thirteen, and is likely to reach sixteen if the fate of Devero and his family turns out as feared. That number includes the other three coaches from Devero’s little league baseball team and the head umpire of the league, whose bodies were discovered early this morning beaten, shot, and hacked up in the trunk of the local pastor’s new Mercedes. Also among the list of the dead in this murder spree is an as-of-yet unidentified elderly woman whose remains were found in a burned out van several days ago, which is believed to be linked to the case, as well as several prominent local citizens that had great impact on the local economy, and one Walmart employee who had zero impact on the economy … or life in general. Police are still searching for Chewie, a young orangutan last seen with Devero and his friends. We’ll take you now to Todd Beenis, who’s live on the scene with the Fort Worth Police Department.”

  Estelle nibbled on Dwayne’s ear, then put her index finger on his chin. She slid her finger down his neck, dragged it softly down his chest, under the covers, and inside his underwear. “Just so you know, my smoldering-hot sex machine,” she whispered, “the door is locked, and I’m reeeally horny.”

  God, he loved her.

  She climbed on top of him and rode him like an arcade motorcycle game, biting his lip, trying in vain to keep her moans inaudible so as not to alert Alex to the debauchery occurring at the rear of the RV.

  “Thanks, Gretchen! Todd Beenis here. I’m live in Fort Worth, Texas, with Fort Worth Police Detective Rick Loffland. Detective, walk us through what’s going on here.”

  “Hi, Todd Penis, well, here’s what’s—”

  “Beenis.”

  “What?”

  “Beenis, not Penis.”

  “Beenis?”

  “Beenis.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “No, sir. And we’re live.”

  “Fucking Beenis?”

  “Beenis.”

  “What the fuck kind of name is Beenis?”

  “It’s Lithuanian. And we’re live.”

  “Like it fucking matters, bro. Anyhow, any second now, you’ll be seeing Pastor Jim Harper from the Westside Church of Jesus being led to the courthouse to be arraigned on sixteen counts of murder and one count of animal abduction. A blood-soaked baseball bat and four bodies were found in his vehicle early this morning after police received an anonymous tip. That tip also led us to Jenny Field, a local little league baseball complex, where crime scene investigators are in the process of exhuming several bodies that Pastor Jim Harper is alleged to have killed. We’re not sure exactly what his motivation was i
n any of the killings, except with the Walmart guy, where we’re pretty sure the motive was customer service. We’ve been unable to locate the bodies of Dwayne Devero and his family, but I can tell you that blood was found near an emptied out safe at his office. We fear the worst. He was a good dude.”

  Detective Loffland took off his hat, showing respect for his fallen friend. He hung his head and closed his eyes.

  Estelle and Dwayne stopped in the middle of their booty session and turned to watch the television. They couldn’t believe what they were witnessing on the screen. Pastor Jim was being led to a waiting police cruiser in handcuffs, screaming at the police.

  Dwayne grinned and rolled Estelle over, climbing on top of her.

  “I love you, Sugartitties,” Dwayne said.

  “I love you too, Honeyballs,” Estelle replied.

  Just then, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

  “Mom? Dad? Where am I? Or … where are we?” Alex called from the other room.

  Dwayne turned the television off. A faint sound of cheering came from outside the RV.

  “Yeah, babe,” Estelle said, turning to Dwayne. “Where the hell are we?”

  “Throw some clothes on. I’ll show you.”

  Dwayne, Estelle, and Alex piled out of the RV. They shielded their faces from the sunlight while their eyes adjusted. There was a little league baseball game going on not a hundred feet from them. It had just started.

  “I drove all night,” Dwayne said. “We’re somewhere near El Paso, maybe an hour from the Mexican border. We had to get out of town for our safety, Alex.”

  Dwayne didn’t know how he was going to explain their new life to Alex. He knew he was a good kid, though, and he knew that everything would eventually work out for the best.

  “You see, buddy … that life we lived … it wasn’t real,” he continued. “It wasn’t good for our souls. Everything revolved around the wrong things. I wanted something better for you and the little baby caped crusader your mom has in her belly. I figured we should just start over and do it right this time.

  “So, long story short, I bought us an RV. And last night, we just started driving. Right when I started getting too tired to drive anymore, I saw this ballpark here … out in the middle of nowhere. It was all lit up, like someone was trying to give me a sign. I just knew right away that this was the spot for us, so I stopped.”