Home Run

by Tim Green

  “Stupid bed,” he said. “For a baby.”

  Then he turned his back on the best part of his childhood and marched down the stairs, right past his mother in the living room, and out the kitchen doorway. He didn’t stop until everything was shoved into the backseat of the Camaro. He slipped into the front seat and slammed the passenger door. He sat with his arms folded across his chest, aware that his father was coming out of the house now.

  His dad opened the driver’s door and leaned in. “You better say good-bye.”

  “She wants me to leave?” The words even tasted bitter. “Fine, I’m leaving.”

  Josh’s dad sighed and looked at the door leading into the kitchen. He stood there for several minutes, waiting, but Josh didn’t move and his mother didn’t appear. Somewhere inside, Josh could still hear his little sister howling. She got that way sometimes. She was sensitive. Deep down, she probably knew Josh was leaving and, more important, her daddy was leaving too.

  Josh nearly choked as his father started the engine. They backed out into the street and then took off. At the last instant Josh looked up at his house. There in the window stood his mother, Laurel clinging to her neck. Even through the window and from the street, Josh could see she was crying. And as his father stepped on the gas, his mother slowly raised her hand in what might have been a wave before the neighbors’ bushes stole the sight of her from him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  IT DIDN’T SEEM REAL.

  Every time Josh nodded off and woke with a jump, his head bumping the car window, he was sure it all must have been a bad dream. But as he sorted out his memories and emotions beneath the big green signs whooshing past, welcoming them to the states of Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, he knew it really had happened. His father really took a job in Florida. He really did ruin any chance of saying good-bye or preparing himself by running away, and his mother had shunned him in a way he never imagined possible. It all hurt so bad that he let himself drift back into sleep, over and over.

  When they stopped at a Budget Host motel in North Carolina, Josh shuffled out of the car, bones aching from being cramped in such a small space, and collapsed into the bed his father pointed to after using the bathroom. They needed to be on the road by 5:00 a.m. He dropped off to sleep immediately.

  The next morning Josh was still quiet. They had waffles and eggs at a Waffle House before getting back onto the highway with a bag of ham-and-egg sandwiches for lunch so they wouldn’t have to stop.

  After a few miles a question popped into Josh’s mind without a warning, and without a thought he asked it. “Did you ever get used to leaving your teammates?”

  “What do you mean?” his father asked.

  “You know; you were at a lot of places. You must have had friends, right?”

  “Some good ones, yeah.” His father nodded with a smile.

  “And then you left, right? Or they did.”

  “Sure, that’s sports.”

  “Was there ever someone who was so awesome, you never found anyone like him?” Josh was thinking about Benji, and Jaden too, but he didn’t want to say “him or her.” He’d moved before. They moved a few times during his father’s quest to become a major-league player. This wasn’t Josh’s first time by a long shot, but somehow it felt different. He’d never felt as close to someone as he did to Benji and, he had to admit, Jaden. How much of that was because she was a girl, and a pretty one at that, he couldn’t say.

  He looked over at his father, whose height and bulk filled most of the Camaro’s space.

  “Hmm,” his father said. “I guess . . . no, not really. I made a lot of good friends, but there was always someone new.”

  Josh bit his lip, thinking of his mother and then Diane. He supposed there could be someone new like Diane for his father again, but for Josh it didn’t seem like anyone could replace Benji, or especially Jaden. He didn’t think there were too many people who were as crazy as Benji and at the same time . . . lovable? Josh supposed that was the word. Benji just got under your skin. And Jaden? He doubted there were many girls in the world who were as strong and smart as she was and who were also so . . . pretty. Yes, Jaden was about as pretty as a girl could get.

  Josh sighed and put his head against the window.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep again,” his dad said without taking his eyes off the road.

  “Tired, I guess.” Josh reclined the seat as far as the stuff in the back would let him go. What he didn’t tell his dad was that it was sadness really that had overcome him. A sadness about his friends that weighed him down, making his limbs and eyelids heavy.

  Meanwhile, the vibration of the car and the steady thump of the road lulled him into a nap.

  Sometime later, with the sun shining bright and directly down on him, he woke. Try as he might, he couldn’t get back to sleep. He twisted and turned and kept his eyes shut for nearly half an hour before he sat up blinking.

  “You got some rest.” His father’s voice rumbled deeply, like an extension of the car’s engine, and he smirked at Josh. “Running away makes you tired, I guess.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Florida-Georgia line.”

  “Like the band?”

  “Like the band.” His father reached for the dial and turned up the radio. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

  The country band wasn’t playing. It was some classic rock station, and the band was harsh and sour and singing a song with blaring guitars called “Highway to the Danger Zone.” Josh looked sharply at his dad to see if he got the meaning, but his dad simply bobbed his head and sang along under his breath as they buzzed beneath a sign welcoming them to the Sunshine State. Josh blinked up at the glaring yellow orb.

  Florida.

  No doubt about the sunshine.

  “Hey.” His father glanced at his watch and reached for the radio again. “One o’clock. Yankees are playing the Dodgers today. You gotta love this satellite radio, huh? I think they have a channel for everything.”

  The game came on, and they listened together, both of them intent on the action and the suspense. Josh pulled out the sandwiches, and they ate as they listened. The announcer said the day was overcast in New York, but it seemed impossible that the sun Josh and his dad drove beneath could be hidden by anything, so intense were its rays. Josh directed the AC vent toward his face. In the bottom of the second inning, the Dodgers left fielder Max Zumwalt stepped up to the plate. He was a player Josh hadn’t heard of, and when he turned his attention to his dad to ask about him, he was surprised by the open-mouthed look of shock on his father’s face.

  “What is it?” Josh asked, scanning the road ahead of them. “Did something happen?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  JOSH’S DAD HUFFED AND clucked his tongue, shaking his head now in disbelief as he reached to turn up the radio. “Max Zumwalt. I can’t even believe it.”

  “Who is it, Dad? You know him?”

  “Shh.” His father held up a hand, and they listened as Zumwalt swung and missed.

  Puzzled and curious, Josh held his questions until Zumwalt ripped a single on the third pitch and his father dropped his hand, glancing at Josh with a grin that appeared to be crooked with pain.

  “Who is he?” Josh asked.

  “That could have been me.” His dad glanced at Josh again, serious now. “I swear, that could have been me, Josh. That’s how close things are in life, especially in sports.”

  “What do you mean?” Josh asked.

  “I mean, he and I played together on a Double-A team in Manchester.” His father shook his head, still in disbelief. “They moved him down because his batting average was like .147. Meanwhile, I got bumped up to Triple-A and played for the Chiefs.”

  “I don’t get it,” Josh said.

  “He went down and ended up playing for Dino Wellington. You know the name?”

  It rang a bell, but Josh shook his head.

  “Back then Wellington was a kid fresh out of coll
ege with a good eye. He coached in the minors awhile, and now he’s the Dodgers hitting coach.” Josh’s father struck the wheel with one hand and glanced over at him. “See what I mean? About luck?”

  “I still don’t get it.” Josh furrowed his brow.

  “Zumwalt went down. I went up.” His father spit out the words. “But up wasn’t the right place to be. I remember hearing Zumwalt got his bat straightened around by Wellington. Maybe Wellington gave him some mojo? Whatever it was, now Zumwalt’s in Yankee Stadium playing for the Dodgers, and I’m driving a wrecked Camaro down I-95.”

  Josh digested that as they drove along, still listening to the game. He couldn’t help rooting against Zumwalt and the Dodgers even more than normal because the whole thing didn’t seem fair. If his father was better, it should be him playing today, not Zumwalt. Josh’s dad had told him over and over about the luck factor when it came to sports, but part of him hadn’t really believed it. Now he did, and the injustice of it added a slightly bitter taste to what was otherwise a super afternoon: riding along listening to a ball game with his dad.

  The game ended with the Dodgers winning 3–2 before his father turned the radio down and nodded toward the side of the road. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Josh looked out the window at the endless line of trees, some slung with creepy moss that reminded him of a monster movie. “It’s green.”

  “Yup.” His dad nodded with excitement. “Green and lush and warm. No snow. No shoveling. No winter boots or coats or hats. I love it.”

  Josh took a deep breath and let it out, his second thoughts about coming continued to grow. He did get excited when he saw a sign for Disney World, though, and he pointed it out to his dad. “Can we go?”

  “After we get settled in. Why not?”

  “Awesome.”

  When they finally pulled through the gates of Crosby College late that afternoon, Josh couldn’t help being impressed. The place had the feel of a park, with trees and lush green grass that defied the heat. Brick buildings boasted thick white columns and windows and felt like they’d been around for a hundred years.

  “What’s that called?” Josh pointed to the top of one building and the fancy monument with a clock and a dome-shaped roof with a gold weathervane.

  “A cupola.”

  “Coop-o-la?”

  “Yup.”

  “Fancy.” Josh put his hand on the window. “Where do we stay?”

  “In one of the dorms for now,” his father said. “Just until my place is ready. Jeff’s got an apartment all lined up.”

  Josh gave his father a puzzled look.

  “Mr. Enslinger, Jeff,” his father said. “I already texted him last night when you were sleeping. He’s working on getting you into the Marberry School and on the Cougars travel team too. I wanted him to find something close, but I also want to make sure you’re going to a good school. My goal is to be in the apartment this weekend so we’re settled before school starts Monday. Most of the college students won’t be here until then, either, so it’ll be pretty quiet. I can get my office set up, and we should be able to do some work in the weight room and out on the field, a little one-on-one with the head coach. It’s been a while, right?”

  Josh and his dad used to do one-on-one work regularly until his father’s career as a minor-league player ended and he began his coaching career. Not that his dad didn’t work with him, they’d worked together plenty. It was just that the attention wasn’t on an individual basis like before. His dad had been coaching him along with all the other players on the Titans team.

  They drove past the impressive buildings that lined the main street of the campus, then circled the biggest building of all before they came to a modern, three-story building surrounded by sports fields.

  “My office is in there.” Josh’s dad nodded his head toward the big building. “Weight room too. Locker rooms.”

  They passed through a line of trees before Josh saw all the action on the baseball field. A big construction crew was working, some on the field, others on the enormous grandstand. Huge yellow machines coughing dust crawled across the dirt, grumbling and snorting black smoke.

  “It’s a little messy now, but wait until you see the plans.” His father surveyed the action, and his eyes brimmed with excitement. “They’re gonna upgrade everything over the next couple years. This is just the beginning. I’ll get better players, and we’ll start to win. I’ll get even better players after that, and Crosby College will become a Division One powerhouse. It’ll be a training ground for the majors.”

  Josh’s dad waved his hand like a magic wand intended to make the whole dream appear.

  The Camaro wound its way through twists and turns until they came upon a huge building that made Josh blink in disbelief.

  His father laughed with appreciation and uttered just two words.

  “Welcome home.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JOSH’S FATHER CALLED Jeff Enslinger to tell him they’d arrived. The brick building looked even more impressive when they walked over to find the athletic director waiting for them at the door with open arms and a smile. He hugged Josh’s dad. “This is a great day for Crosby College.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  Josh couldn’t remember seeing his father blush, and as unhappy as he was about the turmoil in his life and leaving everything behind, he was proud of his dad.

  They climbed the stone steps and passed through the white double doors. The AD led them down a wood-paneled hallway and swung open the door to room 104. “Not much, but it’ll keep you dry until your new place is ready this weekend.”

  Josh’s father was right; he was in heaven.

  “It’s an RA’s room, so it’s got its own bathroom.” The AD pointed to a doorway inside the room. “A little tight because I had them put in an extra bed, but you guys will be like two buddies living together. Ha. I’ll let you get settled and meet you in the dining hall. We can have an early dinner.”

  Josh’s father had carried a duffel bag with him, and after shaking the AD’s hand, he set it on one of the two single beds that rested against opposite walls.

  Josh peeked into the bathroom, cramped but neat and clean with a sparkling mirror, white fixtures, and a black-and-white checkered tile floor. “Nice.”

  “See?” His father watched the AD disappear down the hallway. “This is my big chance.”

  Josh tugged open the blinds and admired the big oak tree and the closely trimmed grass outside their window.

  “Just two buddies living together.” His dad laughed. “Sounds funnier when he says it with that Southern accent.”

  “Two buddies training together too.” Josh was excited about working out on a daily basis with his dad, getting bigger, faster, stronger, and more skilled.

  “I hope you can handle working like a Division One player.” His father bumped into him with a shoulder, and Josh bumped him back.

  “I hope I don’t wear you out.” Josh grinned, his sadness about leaving Syracuse almost entirely gone.

  They unpacked and headed for the dining hall. It was nearly empty, but there were enough college students dressed in shorts, T-shirts, and sandals to make Josh feel out of place. The students offered up plenty of smiles, but Josh also caught them staring, wondering who was with the AD.

  “How about this?” His dad held up a burrito before taking a big bite and talking through his food. “Not bad, right?”

  “Good,” Josh said.

  His father’s phone rang, and he fished it from his pocket, looked at the number, and hit Ignore. Josh wondered who it was but said nothing. His father smiled at the AD.

  “The head of dining services came from Florida State.” The AD bit into a tuna sandwich, crunching through a thick slab of white onion. “We’re beating them in the dining hall, and soon we’ll be beating them on the baseball diamond.”

  “We’re a long way from taking on Florida State.” Josh’s dad took a drink of his Dr Pepper. “I figured
the construction would be further along. There’s a lot of competition for the top recruits. Telling them we’re going to have big-time facilities is different than them seeing big-time facilities, especially when you’re competing for the best kids.”

  “What? Against a guy like you, Gary?” The AD grinned through his food. “I know you can sell these kids. When you walk into some kid’s living room and the dad is full of questions and the mom is fluttering her eyes at you, you’re gonna sell them. I know it. You’ve got that thing . . . that X factor.”

  Josh looked at his dad. He’d never thought about it that way, but it was true. His dad was intimidating; but at the same time everyone’s mom seemed to like being around him, and he’d noticed how they let their eyes linger on his dad whether he was talking about a kid’s need to get more sleep or what the bus schedule for an away trip was going to be. He’d seen his dad sell people.

  “How much recruiting do you have to do?” Josh asked his dad.

  His father shrugged and looked at the AD. “A couple days a week on the road, I guess.”

  The AD stopped just before he took another big bite of his tuna sandwich, and his bright smile faded a little. “Well . . . uh, no. You’ll be on the road six or seven days a week, Gary.”

  Josh looked at his dad, who scratched the stubble on his chin. “But a lot of the kids I’ll be recruiting are right around here.”

  “Oh, for sure.” The AD nodded. “Miami, Fort Lauderdale, Tampa, there’s even a lot of good talent right here around Orlando, but you’ll be spending a lot of time in Texas.”

  “Texas?” Josh said.

  “Tons of talent in Texas, and on your way, there’s no sense not stopping in Mississippi and Louisiana too.” The AD took a big bite, crunching more of the thick onion and chewing happily. “I’m so glad you’re on board.”

  Josh’s dad only smiled and ate.

  After that Josh zoned out while the two of them talked about places to live and the strengths and weaknesses of the existing Crosby College baseball team. But Josh’s mind was on Texas and how much traveling his dad would be doing.