Uneasy Pieces: The League, Book 4 Page 3

  The next batter swung twice and missed the first two pitches. From my viewpoint in left field, he didn’t even come close to the ball. I closed my eyes for a moment thinking about Jordan, and I wondered what it would be like to give him a kiss. My eyes opened wide when I heard our center fielder Lowell shout, “Yours Marshall!”

  I blinked and stared up at the sky just in time to see the softball arcing through the air. Fortunately, I only needed to take two steps to my left to plant myself directly under the ball and haul it into my glove.

  “Way to play heads up ball, Marshall!” shouted Billy as I relayed the ball back to the infield.

  When the next batter struck out, I jogged back to the dugout with the rest of the team. Lowell stepped up beside me and said, “They don’t look like much of a challenge. If we put together a few hits, we can probably run away with this one.”

  While our first batters stepped up to the plate, Reggie, our catcher, and Ian’s best friend, sat next to me in the dugout and said, “You look wound up a little tight today, Marshall. That’s not usual for you. Is everything okay?”

  I said, “Yeah, I’m good. Just some personal stuff that’s rolling around in my head. It will all be fine. I’m pumped.” I said, “Lowell looks a lot happier than he was at the first game. Does that mean we’ll get Sven back for the rest of the season?”

  Reggie shook his head. He said, “I doubt it. Sven’s dad is still pretty sick, and Lowell said Sven has committed to helping out at his parent’s place for the next couple of months. They really think his dad could be gone at any time. Maybe Lowell is happier, though. He told me that he’s taking several days off during the week this summer to go to Minnesota and be with Sven.”

  Our first four batters got on base. We scored two runs, and I was due up before the inning was over. I was sixth in the batting order. I stood up to exit the dugout to the on deck circle, and Billy said, “Head in the game, Marshall. Keep the rally going.”

  Unfortunately, the rally stalled before I stepped up to the plate. We had two outs and two guys still on base. I never really enjoyed heading to the plate with the pressure of guys on base and two outs. If I didn’t get a hit, it would be easy to feel like I let the team down.

  The nerves about Jordan watching me and my insecurities about my age piled together and I dug myself into the batter’s box feeling nervous vibrations in my arms and legs. I growled to myself and told myself in my head, “Calm down, Marshall. Just get a hit. Just show the team what you’re made of.”

  I pounded my aluminum bat in the center of home plate and then crouched down staring out to the pitcher. He looked worried and concerned. His expression was the first thing that helped me relax. Their pitcher was confident that I was going to get a hit.

  Shane and Joey, the two kids from high school, shouted behind me, “Murder the ball, Marshall!”

  The ball arrived at home plate after a perfect, slow, arcing path. It gave me plenty of time to judge the position of the ball. I heard that loud, “Plink!” when my bat connected with the ball. It was a solid hit. As the ball sailed toward the outfield, I dropped the bat and dug for first base.

  The roar of my teammates in the dugout on the opposite side of the field told me everything I needed to know. The ball was over the fence for a home run. It was my first home run since midway through the previous season. I slowed my run around the bases to a jog and then stomped triumphantly when I made it to home plate.

  Antonio, with his long, skinny arms, was next up to bat, and he gave me a huge, tight hug in celebration. He exclaimed, “Home run king right here!” Antonio raised one long arm above my head and pointed at me while the team rattled the chain link fencing across the front of the dugout. We were up 5-0, and the first inning wasn’t over yet.

  I couldn’t help but strut as I glided to the dugout with a glow on my face. The nervous energy was released in one big explosion when I sent the ball over the fence. I needed to remember that for future reference when I needed to calm the nerves.

  The rest of the game unfolded in a similar fashion. We won easily, and when Ian recorded the final out as a strikeout, we all gathered for a massive team huddle at home plate. The Soft Serves were tied for the league lead. We won our first league championship the season before, and now we were the defending champions. Our prospects looked good, but the season would be a tough fight.

  My teammates considered me the hero of the game. We gathered in a huddle around home plate and shouted war cries for the Soft Serves. I was ushered off the field by Billy on one side and Blake on the other. Blake said, “You’ll join us at the Toolbox right, Marshall? We can’t have a proper celebration without our slugger.”

  I said, “I will be right there, guys. First I need to say hello to someone.”

  I could feel Billy’s eyes on me as I jogged over to Jordan. He was walking away from the field with the high school boys at his side. As I approached, I called, “Hey, Jordan!”

  They held up and Jordan turned his head. I was met with a wide, genuine smile. He said, “Marshall! You were the big hero today. I loved seeing you hit that home run over the fence.”

  Shane added, “I think Billy and Blake better watch out. There’s a new guy trying to be the star of the team.”

  I shook my head and lowered it saying, “That might be taking things a little too far.” Then I shoved my hands in the pockets of my uniform pants and said, “Well, I just wanted to say hi and thank you all for coming to our games. It’s great to have fans in the stands.”

  Jordan said, “You help make it worth watching, Marshall.”

  I could feel his eyes on me, and I wanted to ask him out for a drink or coffee, but something held my tongue. I gestured back in the direction of the rest of the team and said, “Well, I gotta go celebrate with the guys. Will you be at our next game?”

  Shane and Joey turned toward Jordan while he looked back at them. Jordan said, “I don’t know why not. I think it will be the last one while school is still in session. Then I’ve got a lot more free time over the summer. I think the Soft Serves have picked up a loyal fan.”

  Shifting from one foot to the other, I said, “Well, guys, thanks again. See you all soon.”

  I turned and jogged off toward the rest of the team. I was already kicking myself in my thoughts, but at least I knew that I would have another chance to ask Jordan out at the next game. I repeated that thought in my mind, and it helped me relax. By the time I arrived at the Toolbox, I was my normal self again.

  4

  Jordan

  I stabbed at the pieces of lettuce in my lunch salad like I was spearing fish for dinner off a tropical beach. I looked up at Karen and grumbled, “Can you believe it? He actually asked me, ‘Is that all there is?’ What kind of an a-hole asks that?”

  Karen ate a french fry and said, “Well, you let him get to you. That’s your mistake. Just let it go, Jordan.”

  Karen was a fellow teacher at the high school and one of my best friends. She was the advanced placement English teacher for juniors and seniors. She was also a William Faulkner fanatic. Most people have difficulty reading his books at all. She reads them for fun when she’s going to bed at night.

  I sort of heard Karen’s comment, but I kept on rambling anyway. I said, “It was a boring evening. He rambled on and on about his family’s house out in the suburbs and the wealthy people that his parents know, but I didn’t want to send him off thinking that the evening was a horrible failure. So I gave him a kiss goodnight.”

  “But the evening was a horrible failure. You kissed him even though you didn’t like him?” asked Karen.

  Sighing heavily, I said, “I was trying to be nice. So I kissed him, and he literally shoved his tongue into my mouth. I love a great tongue kiss as much as any guy, but I felt violated. It was awful, and then he started to suck on my tongue. He sucked like someone sucking on a straw trying to get the last bit of slushie in the bottom of the cup.”

  Karen cringed. “You didn’t have to be quite
so graphic, Jordan.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, but you get the picture. After all that, he had the balls to actually look me in the eye and ask, ‘Is that all there is?’”

  Karen giggled lightly, and she said, “I’m really sorry, but this would be really funny in a sitcom episode.”

  I stabbed at the lettuce again and said, “Yeah, I guess so. I so wanted to say, ‘No, that’s not all there is, there’s this, too,’ and then knee him in the balls so hard that he had to double up and walk bent over to the car.”

  She said, “Yeah, and then a loser like that would call the police.”

  “I did get one chance to really laugh about it. About half an hour later, he sent me a text message and said, ‘I had a good time, Jordan. I hope to hear from you soon.’”

  Karen giggled again. “You’ve got a fan, Jordan. Maybe he’s a masochist, a glutton for punishment.”

  I just shook my head. “I could live with fewer fans like that.”

  “So what does your summer look like?” asked Karen. “School is almost out isn’t it?”

  “Just a couple of weeks left to go, and then I think I’m the only teacher who really does spend a lot of the summer preparing for the next school year. Do you do that? I’ve got some new ideas I heard about at a professional conference, and I want to see if I can work them into my overall schedule for the year.”

  Karen said, “It doesn’t work out the same way as what you do, but I cram in reading novels all summer long. Some of them are the classics that I’ve missed along the way, and then I also try and catch up with some of the best contemporary literature. My relatives all think I have the easiest job in the world just reading all summer long. But it’s not just pleasure reading. I’m sure you understand how that is different.”

  I asked, “You don’t do any pleasure reading at all.”

  She smiled and said, “Okay, I’ll fess up. I do load a few ebook romances on my reader. Everybody needs a little bit of down time.”

  I smiled and said, “It makes perfect sense to me.” Then I added, “I’ve got another summer project for myself, too.”

  “Learning to bake bread?” asked Karen. “Traveling to London? Kayaking on the Milwaukee River?”

  “Actually those all sound like a lot of fun. No, what I really want is a boyfriend.”

  Karen grinned. “Are you serious? I mean, you’re only in your second year of teaching. I expect things are still really stressful. I’m only in my fifth year, but it’s so much better now. At the end of the second year, I was ready to quit. I would have been a grouchy mess with a boyfriend.”

  I said, “I just think I’m ready. I’m a little tired of every night alone, and the one-night stands are even worse in some ways. I want a regular guy. It doesn’t have to be the forever guy, but at least six months of something predictable.” I looked up to the ceiling. “Is that too much to ask?”

  Karen scrunched up her mouth and said, “Sometimes, yes. Sometimes it really is too much to ask. The single life really isn’t all that bad. I’m going to enjoy my solo summer.”

  “I hope by the end of the summer, mine will be just like that song from Grease.”

  “From Grease?” asked Karen. “I’m the geeky girl who’s never actually seen it.”

  I said, “It’s called ‘Summer Nights,’ except they actually break up by the beginning of the song. For me, it’s just going to be the prequel to a fantastic school year. Do you want me to sing the song for you?”

  Karen waved her hand and said, “No, Jordan. I think I’ll pass on that. I’ll trust you on the worthiness of the song. I do have a piece of advice, though.”

  “About the dating?”

  Karen nodded. “Yes, about the dating. Judging from what you said about your glorious date last night, I want to make one suggestion. Please take this in the spirit it is intended. I suggest that maybe you need a man with a little more maturity. A man with a little more heft. One who doesn’t suck on your tongue like he’s slurping a slushie.”

  I laughed out loud and then nodded in agreement. I said, “I will definitely see what I can do.” One man immediately came to mind, and his name was Marshall Easterling.

  5

  Marshall

  Billy said, “If you move too slow, he’s gonna get away, buddy. You need to strike while the iron is hot. You talked to him, and you didn’t ask him out. What’s up with that? You have a limited number of strikes before you strike out.”

  “At the moment, it just didn’t quite feel right. Haven’t you ever been tongue-tied or decided at the last minute that you just couldn’t say what you wanted to say?”

  Billy tossed his long hair back over his shoulder and said, “I usually have a tougher time keeping my mouth shut. Just ask my mother about that. She says I’m a born talker. If you need anything to fill the silence, she says you just need to ask me to enter the room.”

  I laughed and said, “I guess that’s true. You always do seem to have something to say.”

  Billy pulled into the parking lot at the mall, and he said, “I’m going to talk now, too. It’s Becca’s birthday in two days, and I need to come up with something really good for a gift. There is always the possibility she’s the one for me for the long term, but I’m not in a hurry to tie the knot. I just don’t want her to have any ideas about flying the coop. I want her to open the box and say, ‘Ooo Billy, you shouldn’t have.’ Then I can say, ‘But I did,’ and 30 minutes later be going down on her for a birthday surprise.”

  I sighed and said, “Oh man, Billy, could you just leave out those details?”

  He said, “It’s worth it just to see you cringe.”

  We walked through the doors of the mall together and 45 minutes later we’d looked at laptop computers, Lego buildings, baseball caps, and jogging shoes but nothing remotely close to a birthday gift for Becca.

  I said, “You’re a lot of fun to shop with, Billy. We need to get out of the house more often and just hang out doing guy things.”

  He asked, “Guy things? I guess shopping might be a guy thing for you. I know I’m fun to be with, but there’s a goal here Marshall. You’re supposed to help me stay focused. Now, next we’ll go to the store with home stuff. She likes kitchen stuff and she likes decorative junk to set on the coffee table or the fireplace mantel in that rental house. She has dog stuff all over the place, and she needs something that looks nice that’s just for her.”

  It didn’t take long in the new store for me to get distracted. I said, “Hey, Billy, come over here. I’ve got something to show you.”

  “Something for Becca?” he asked.

  “No, unless she’s a big coffee fan. This machine makes coffee with the little cups or you can do it with coffee grounds and a filter, too. It’s so cool and so efficient.” I pointed at the machine and said, “It comes in chrome, black, and red, too.”

  When I turned back around, Billy’s smile had turned into a flat emotionless stare. He said, “Marshall.”

  I asked, “What?”

  “Buddy, you’re not helping.” He poked at my head and said, “Becca. One way thoughts until we’re finished. Becca.”

  I was really stumped, but ten minutes later Billy found what he really wanted. I had to admit both things were pretty, but I didn’t think of them really as gifts. When I got presents, I wanted it to be obvious that I could make things with it or I could play with it. Maybe I just didn’t understand women. I was willing to fully agree with that assessment.

  Billy bought a beautiful throw blanket. He said it would match Becca’s sofa and even compliment the colors of the walls. Then he decided on a picture frame in silver chrome. He said that it could hold a photo of the two of them together on the coffee table while they were cuddled under the blanket watching TV.

  I asked Billy, “Aren’t you getting a little soft about things?”

  He raised his arms and said, “Who doesn’t like to cuddle, Marshall? Besides, it often leads to other even more enjoyable things.”

 
“You’ve got a point there.”

  The store wrapped the items up together at Billy’s instruction in wrapping paper with multicolored stripes. He chose a huge gold bow to stick on top. I said, “It’s a little like an ice cream cone with sprinkles threw up, but it’s nice, Billy. I’m sure she will love it. It’s really nice.”

  He elbowed me in the side, took the bag from the store clerk, and headed for the exit.

  As he drove us back to his house, Billy asked, “So when do you see Jordan next? Is it our next softball game?”

  I said, “I expect so unless I unexpectedly run into him along the street.”

  “Then you’re going to ask him out after the next game, Marshall. I’ll make this deal with you. When we get to the game, you give me the keys to your car, and I won’t give them back until you’ve asked Jordan on a date.”

  “Damn, you play hardball, Billy. I don’t know if I really want to…”

  “I’ll let you do the same for me sometime. I’m just trying to be helpful.”

  I thought it through realizing I would still have my cell phone to call for an emergency ride if necessary. I really did want to ask Jordan out, and the worst he could say was no, so, reluctantly, I agreed to Billy’s scheme.

  He poked at my chest and said, “See, I bet you feel better already, because you know you’re going to get to go on a date with Jordan. There’s no way he will say no to my buddy Marshall. It’s unthinkable.”

  * * *

  It was another winning softball game, and I could feel Jordan’s eyes on me all through the seven innings. Fortunately, we were playing an easy team, because we fell back into some of our typical mistakes. We didn’t play at the top of our game.