Star Runners Omnibus

Chapter 7

5

Tiny pebbles crunched between his teeth while he flipped a sunflower seed with his tongue. The salty taste blended with the dirt of the baseball field. A hot breeze rushed in from the outfield like a furnace. Heat seared down from the cloudless blue sky. Many in the small crowd remarked on the beautiful weather. Austin scoffed at the comments. I wonder how they’d like it if they had to wear this equipment. His blue shirt dripped with sweat, making it a full shade darker than his teammates. He had drained his water bottle three times since the game started.

Austin sighed and surveyed the stands. Two men sat behind home plate, one with a radar gun and the other a notepad. As the opposing pitcher warmed up, the men jotted down notes in silence. Scouts attended games all the time and had probably traveled to see his teammate Mark Davis in the final game of his high school career.

At the beginning of the season, Austin had hoped to shine on the field and attract enough attention to grab a scholarship. Coach Lucas Hearn told him after every game to practice the skills and learn the game. He gave the team everything. He arrived early to practice. He stayed late. He hit the batting cages. He did calisthenics at home. If he could find a ride, then he’d stay in the school gym after classes. He woke early, ran through the neighborhood, and ate high protein breakfasts when all he really wanted was a donut.

The workouts paid off, and he dropped fifteen pounds during the season. He believed Coach Hearn and knew the scholarship was his route to college.

Despite his efforts, the scouts never called. The Blue Devils fought hard to end up with a .500 record and a solid third place in the region standings, but the team failed to make the playoffs. Regardless of the outcome of this game against the Cardinals, the season would end today.

Austin squinted. Kadyn waved back at him from behind the scouts. He tipped his cap to his only “fan” at the game. She laughed. Even though Mom tried to get a more permanent job than the part-time medical assisting gig, she couldn’t find anything with better hours. She missed most of his games, always working the late afternoon shift at a local doc-in-the-box. Kadyn came to all the games, though, cheering and whooping from the stands.

He stared at his black leather batting gloves. The threads at the finger were split and the palms worn through on his right hand, but he wouldn’t get rid of the glove Dad gave him last season.

“Stone! You’re on deck!” Hearn yelled from the end of the dugout.

Austin grabbed his bat and stepped out into the intense heat. He glanced at the scoreboard displaying two outs. Coach Hearn pinch hit with the junior, Jordan Frank, who’d been itching to play this final game. He took a few practice swings.

The ball cracked against Jordan’s bat and looped in between the shortstop and third baseman. The small crowd clapped, but the Blue Devils still trailed by six in the final inning.

“Austin!”

He turned to his coach.

“Be patient and keep this season alive,” Coach Hearn said. “Wait for your pitch!”

Austin nodded. His stomach ascended into his throat. His pulse increased. Kicking dirt around and holding up his hand for the umpire, he settled into the box. He spit out the final remnants of a sunflower seed and stared down the pitcher, who towered on the mound. With massive biceps and broad shoulders, the pitcher looked like he could be a linebacker for his school. He glared with colorless eyes from behind his glove as he waited for a signal from the catcher. Austin swayed in the box and readied his bat.

The pitcher wound up and released the ball. Sizzle-POP.

The ball soared by him. Strike one.

Austin stepped back from the box and took a deep breath.

“Come on, Austin! Bring me home!” Jordan called from first base.

When he stepped back into the box, Austin knew the next pitch would be a curve.

Sizzle-POP.

Austin swung and missed. He cursed under his breath.

“Time!” Coach Hearn yelled.

Austin went to the dugout. Coach Hearn placed his thick hands on Austin’s shoulders.

“You okay?”

Austin looked at the pitcher. “Yes, sir.”

“Hey, look at me. Not him. Just have fun out there, son, okay? Take a deep breath and hit the ball.”

Austin nodded and turned back to the box. He glanced at the stands. The scouts had put away their notebooks and radar gun. The one on the left crossed his arms over his chest while the other worked on his cell phone. Behind them, Kadyn brought her hands to her face as if she waited for a bomb to go off. He looked away. His heart pulsed in his ears.

He stood in the box and prepared for the pitch.

The muscular pitcher wound up with a grin and released the ball.

Austin swung hard, pouring the frustration of the season, the scouts ignoring him, all the pain of losing Dad and his best friend, into the swing. The bat met the ball perfectly on the sweet spot and lifted from his view.

He didn’t stay in the box to admire it. He remembered Dad’s advice before every game, “Run like wolves are after you!”

Austin sprinted down the first base line. He glanced up when he crossed first base. The ball dropped from the sky and landed far enough to be a home run, but fell foul. His shoulders slumped as he walked back to the plate.

“Just a loud strike, Bryan!” the opposing coach yelled.

Austin sighed and readied for the next pitch.

“Come on, Austin. Straighten that puppy out!”

“Do it again, Austin!”

“Let’s go, Austin. Outta here!”

The pitcher stared at his catcher, his brow wrinkled. The ball left the pitcher’s hand.

The ball sank toward the dirt. Austin started his swing too early. He tried to pull back, but he had already committed. He couldn’t stop. The ball sailed below his bat into the powdery red dirt.

“Strike three!”

The opposing catcher tagged Austin out to make sure the game ended. Remaining at home plate, he stood in the sea of Cardinals celebrating their victory.

Austin tossed his empty water bottle and glove into his bag. He hadn’t heard a word of the coach’s speech. Someone mentioned a season party, but he didn’t listen. He struck out to end the season, so he spent most of Hearn’s speech studying the cracked concrete floor of the dugout.

He swung his bat over his shoulder.

“Austin, can we talk before you leave?”

He sighed. “Yes, Coach.”

Coach Hearn nodded at the other players as they filed out of the dugout before he turned back to Austin. “You had a heck of a year, son. I’ve never had a player work so hard.”

Austin stared at his feet.

Coach Hearn cleared his throat. “I know this has been hard.”

“Did any college contact you?” he whispered.

“Son, that’s not important. You worked hard, and I know that you could walk on and try out at any college you choose. Others coaches will see what I see. If they don’t, you have them call me.”

Austin rubbed his eyes. It sounded good, but the only college he could afford would be the local community school. And that school didn’t have a good baseball team. The only way he could walk on a good team would be to attend that particular college, but it didn’t look like that was going to be happening.

He wanted to say this to Coach Hearn, wanted to tell him the situation.

“Thanks, Coach. Thanks for everything.”

His voice broke with the last word and Austin hurried out of the dugout. Wiping at his face, he jogged out into the parking lot. Kadyn stood leaning against her car. She wore a Blue Devils baseball hat and allowed a crooked smile. She crossed her arms over a white T-shirt. He walked closer. In the fading light of day, Kadyn looked beautiful.

“Hey you,” she said.

He gazed to the right.

She touched his arm. “You wanna go home?”

Austin nodded, and they got into the car.

They rode in silence. Austin leaned back and watched the neighborhoods pass. When they turned onto Austin’s street, he cleared his throat.

“So, uh, you hear back from the art school?”

Kadyn smiled and shrugged. “Not sure, yet. I have to check the mail at home.”

He looked at her. She pressed her lips together. “Liar.”

She smacked his knee. “How do you always know?”

The tension left his chest. “Just do. So you got in?”

She nodded. “I got in.”

“I’m happy for you. Your dreams are coming true.”

Her smile vanished. “Everything will work out. I promise it will.”

He lowered his gaze. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t need that,” he snapped. “My coach tried to do the same thing.”

Kadyn stopped the car at a stop sign and looked at him. “What are you talking about? What did the coach say?”

Austin stared out the window and brought his hand to his mouth. “I’m not getting a scholarship. I’ll be lucky if I can go anywhere.”

“I thought Coach Hearn said scouts would come looking for a catcher.”

“Not this catcher.” He gestured forward. “Let’s just go. I’m sorry. Really, I am. I’m just not in a very good mood.”

Kadyn paused for a long moment. She touched his knee and drove to Austin’s house. When they pulled into his driveway, he looked at her. He opened his mouth, but the words died before he said anything. He nodded.

“See you Monday?” she asked.

“Yep.” He hesitated. “Thanks.”

The outside heat after the car’s air conditioning shocked him. The air stuck to his shirt, and he fought back a shiver.

Mom stood at the front door, a stack of mail in her hands. She flipped through the envelopes as if looking for something. As he approached, she pushed open the door.

“Hi, honey. How was the game?”

He shrugged. “Fine.” He eyed the mail. “Anything good?”

“Bills.”

“Of course.”

Their eyes met. “Are you all right?”

“Tough day.”

She murmured and slipped off his hat. “You’re drenched. Come in and take a shower. We’ll have dinner in a little bit.”

The cool air in the house surrounded his sweaty body. He tossed his baseball bag on the floor and walked to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it today,” she called from the kitchen.

“You didn’t miss anything.”

The shower had started off as cold as possible before he warmed it to relax his muscles. Afterward, he slipped on shorts and an old, ragged T-shirt before he collapsed in front of the computer. Perhaps a few sessions before dinner would get his mind off the game. The image of his bat missing the final pitch flashed in his mind.

He smiled when the Star Runners game screen opened. He waited while the computer made the connection. The speakers pinged, announcing he had received a request from Josh for a live video chat.

“Wow,” he said.

Josh had been gone the entire spring. He’d called several times and wrote emails the first two weeks. The early correspondence centered on Josh missing Atlanta and how he wanted to know what was happening at school. Austin placated his friend but didn’t care to gossip about the dating scene or the latest word on the cheerleading squad. In February, however, the phone calls stopped. Josh’s emails became less frequent and more cryptic. When Austin asked how things were going at the Lobera School of Excellence, Josh wrote, “Been busy” or “These college courses are hard.” He never went into detail about the school or what classes he took.

Josh’s status showed he was awaiting acknowledgment of the video chat.

Austin slipped on his headset and turned up the volume. He opened the chat room provided on the Star Runners server, and a rectangular video screen loaded. The grainy image shifted and popped, revealing a small bookshelf in the background and a half empty cola bottle in front of the screen. A dozen books and papers littered the bookshelf. The dim lighting obscured the book titles and the writing on the papers. An air conditioner hummed in his earphones.

Austin cleared his throat. “Uh, hello?”

“Hang on!”

Austin’s head shot back at the sound. His heart thumped in his chest like it tried to escape.

A figure settled into a chair in front of the screen. “Sorry, I was finishing up some things and hoped you would eventually log in tonight.”

Austin’s jaw dropped. The person on the computer screen looked familiar but older. A leaner, tougher-looking Josh with cropped hair stared at him. He smiled, his eyes filled with cold steel.

“Uh, yeah,” Austin said.

“Sorry, it’s been so long, man. Things here have been interesting.”

He nodded. “So you like it then? I was beginning to wonder.”

Josh exhaled. “No, no, nothing bad. I was calling to see how the game went?”

He blinked. “Game?”

“I saw online today was the final game, right?”

Austin sighed and thought of how to change the subject. “Yeah, it was fine. Is that your room?”

Josh turned around and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Nothing much to write home about.”

“You still coming home Memorial Day?”

The emotion left Josh’s gaunt face. For several moments, he stared back into the camera. Austin thought he’d lost the connection.

“No,” Josh said. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Austin sighed. He missed his friend, but he didn’t want to be annoying. “So, when do you think you’ll be back? July? Labor Day?”

Josh sighed. “Probably not this summer.”

Austin glanced at the ceiling. “I have to go eat.”

Josh leaned forward. “Hey, man, I wish I could say more.”

Wish you could say more? What does that mean? “I don’t get it. You haven’t logged onto the game in months. No emails. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Oh, we have a LAN here at the school. I’ve been playing a lot here.” He sighed and looked off camera. “I might not have a chance to write for a while. We have a special trip coming up soon.”

“Special trip? Like what?”

Josh glanced at his desk. “We’re going on a humanitarian aid mission.”

He crossed his arms. “You read that off a script or something?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Look, I have to go eat. I know you got more important things to do than talk to a high school student. I don’t want to bother you.”

“Austin,” Josh said in a deeper, calm voice. His face looked like a stone carving as he leaned close into the camera and obscured the room behind him. When his face filled the entire screen, he spoke in a hushed voice so slight, it sent a chill shooting down Austin’s neck. “I wish I could tell you how cool this is.”

The image froze on Josh’s eyes and an error popped on the screen. The connection had been lost. He sat at his desk for several minutes, alternating his view from the error message and back to the window. The evening sunlight beamed in through the glass.

“What a jerk,” Austin said, tossing his headset down onto the desk.

“Austin,” Mom called as she knocked on the door. “I’ve been calling you for dinner. You okay?”

He stood and exhaled. “Sorry, I was online.”

“That game again?”

“No, Josh and I were chatting.”

“Oh.” She stepped back. “You haven’t talked about him in a while. How is he?”

“Too cool for me.”

Her expression softened as she touched his shoulder. “Hey, let’s go eat.”

She cooked breakfast for supper. The pancakes were stacked high on a platter, and the house smelled of bacon. His stomach grumbled when he walked into the kitchen.

“Tell me what’s up,” she said, pointing at the table.

Austin grabbed the syrup and watched it make a maple pool on his top pancake. The syrup tumbled over the sides, creating tiny golden rivers of tasty goodness as it spread out on the plate. He scooped up some bacon and placed it at the edge of the plate.

“This is awesome,” he said, taking his first bite.

“Well, thank you,” Mom said, sipping milk from her glass, “but you can’t change the subject.”

He chewed his food and tried to think of his next words. “Josh’s changed. He doesn’t really seem to want to talk, and he ended that last conversation like some freak.”

She grinned and placed a hand over her mouth.

“Are you laughing?”

“No,” she said. “It was just the way you phrased that.” She cleared her throat. “You know, college changes some people. They are never the same. I had friends in high school that I thought would be by my side forever. A couple of them, I haven’t seen since graduation. Some tried to stay in touch during college, but all of them eventually faded.”

He frowned. “So I have to say goodbye to everyone?”

“Not really, the good ones will stay put no matter what. It will never be the same again, though. Life will take you in different directions, and you probably won’t keep in touch like you used to, but you’ll still be friends with some of them.”

They ate in silence.

“Did Josh’s parents say anything about his school?”

“I haven’t talked to Roxanne in a while, but they said he was happy. Last time we did talk, she said she hadn’t spoken to him as much as she would have liked. That’s college.”

“You think I would have a chance to go there?”

Mom’s head swayed to the left as she eyed him with a sympathetic look on her face. “Is that what this is about?”

He polished off the last bite of his first pancake and held a piece of bacon. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said, twirling the bacon in his hand. “I want to go to college, but I don’t know how that’s going to happen. I know we can’t afford it. Josh’s off in California. Kadyn’s going to art school. What do I do?”

“We talked about this, honey. I’m making enough to help you go to community college. We’ll have to take out a loan, but you don’t have to pay those back right away. You get the grades, and you can transfer to wherever you’d like, maybe even get a scholarship.”

“Coach pretty much said I had to walk on.”

“There are other scholarships than just baseball, you know.”

He snorted. “I’m not good at anything else. I’ve never played football, and I don’t want to wrestle.”

“Academic scholarships,” Mom said, shaking her head. “Come on now, you’ve got good grades, and you spend more time playing that computer than anything else. Just imagine if you applied yourself.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know.”

“Besides, you don’t want to go to California to Josh’s school.”

“Why?”

“Roxanne said they have regular exercises and workouts that are mandatory. Healthy students were good students or something like that. I know how much you hate practices.”

Josh’s school also made him shave his head and prevented him from communicating with his friends. He took so many classes he looked tired. On top of all that, the school required him to take part in regular workouts. At least that accounted for why he had lost so much weight.

They finished dinner, and Austin helped load the plates in the dishwasher.

“This is all going to work out in the end,” Mom said. “You know that, don’t you?”

Austin held her gaze and managed a smile. “I know.”

He dragged his feet back to his room, wondering if Mom had believed him.