Alive on Opening Day (21 page)

Dan’s future was a blurry
unknown, but this moment was his and Troy’s and Gabbie’s, and the
Hodges’. The only thing to do was enjoy this half-inning of
baseball and root for the Eagles.

On the mound for
Evansville was Mike Smithers, a typical fireballing reliever who
had allowed only two runs all year long, and that’s exactly how
many the Eagles needed to tie the game.

Carl Dishman, the catcher,
led off the bottom of the ninth for South Pickens and he took some
mighty hacks against Smithers but struck out on six pitches. Next
up was the pitcher’s slot, and Croft sent in a pinch hitter, opting
for sophomore second baseman Greg Ramsey. Ramsey had unusual power
for a middle infielder and was known to swing for the fences.
Smithers was having none of it, however, and threw his first pitch
right at Ramsey, who was slow to react. At the last instant, Ramsey
turned toward the backstop and took the blazing heat right in the
middle of his back. While the Eagles crowd booed, Ramsey shimmied
his shoulders to shake off the pain, then took his base.

Next up was leadoff man
Jasmine. He worked the count to 3-2 against Smithers before fouling
off a succession of fastballs and change-ups that had the big
righty huffing on the mound. Finally, on the 12th pitch of the
at-bat, Jasmine kept the bat on his shoulder and watched a close
pitch just miss the outside corner of the plate.

“
Looks like …" --yawn-- “…
we might …” --yawn-- “… make this a game …” --yawn-- “… after all,”
Dan said to David. The young man wore a dreamy expression, and his
body looked rubbery.

Clara moved close to her
son and put her arm around him. “Isn’t this exciting?” she asked,
motioning with her eyes to Gabbie.

Gabbie took Troy from Dan,
who didn’t seem to notice. “We love you, Dan.”

“
I love you guys, too,” he
grinned. He cleared his throat and managed a vigorous, “Come on,
Eagles!”.

David squeezed his son’s
hand and echoed the boy’s sentiments. “Yeah, let’s get ‘em South
Pick!”.

The women yelled, too, and
Troy shrieked in delight.

Back on the field,
shortstop Jim Franklin hit a hard grounder down the third-base
line, but St. Lydia’s hot-corner man made a kneeling stop and
stepped on the bag for the second out. He fired the ball to second,
but Ramsey was too quick and beat the throw back to the bag by two
steps.

Dan yawned and leaned into
his mother. “This is a really great game, Mom,” he said.

“
Yes, it is, Dan,” she
told him, tears streaking down her cheeks. She nudged him with her
elbow and said, “Now sit up and watch Ted bat, dear.”

At the name of his
strapping friend, Dan did perk up, and he zeroed in on Waterman,
just stepping into the batter’s box.

“
Go get ‘em, Ted!” Dan
called out.

Waterman waved his left
hand in Dan’s direction, but he didn’t look back. Instead, he
pumped his bat toward the mound, sizing up Smithers and trying to
get his timing right.

Smithers reared back and
unleashed a monstrous fastball that popped into the catcher’s mitt
seemingly before it even left the pitcher’s hand. Waterman swung
hard, but be was embarrassingly late, and the Evansville crowd
chided him.

“
Nice breeze tonight!” one
of them shouted out.

Dan rubbed his eyes again.
“He’s leaning forward, Dad.” Then, in a louder voice, “You’re
leaning too far forward, Ted! Stay on your back foot!”

Waterman held his hand up
to the plate umpire, asking for time. He stepped out of the box and
looked toward Dan, who gave him a “thumbs-up” gesture and smiled
through red, puffy eyes.

Dan yawned and yelled
again: “You can do it, Ted! Hit a home run and get this thing over
with.”

Ted gave a slight smile
and a quick nod, but stepped back to the plate with renewed
confidence.

In the stands, David
locked hands with Dan and Clara, and Gabbie gathered in as close as
she could.

Smithers looked at the
runners on first and second more out of habit than necessity,
because if he could get Waterman, nothing else would
matter.

The right-hander went into
his windup and uncorked a blazing fastball that was a blur as it
screamed toward Waterman, who rocked back on his left foot before
exploding forward to make contact with the ball, dead-center over
the plate.

The ball rocketed off the
sweet spot of Ted’s bat and arced high into deep center field.
Waterman ran toward first base while Smithers spun to watch the
flight of the ball. Jeff Huber, St. Lydia’s center fielder,
back-pedaled quickly, keeping his eye on the ball, and then turned
to run toward the outfield fence.

David threw his hands in
the air and stood, excited to watch the play unfold. He sensed
Gabbie had stood, too, holding Troy just a few feet away. As the
ball got smaller and smaller against the darkening sky, David
realized that something wasn’t quite right, that something was
missing.

He snapped his eyes toward
his wife, still seated beside him, and crying full-on now. There in
her lap, she cradled Dan’s head, and she bent to kiss her
unconscious son.

“
We’ll see you on Opening
Day, honey,” Clara whispered.

To Be
Continued(?)

Did the Eagles win the
title?
When will Dan Hodges wake up again?
And when he does, what will his life — and his family’s lives — be
like?

Dan’s story continues in
the next installment of the
“Alive on
Opening Day”
series, available soon. If
you want to be the first to read the continuing saga, sign up on
my
website
(
http://adamhugheswriter.com/get-free-short-stories/
)
to receive notification when the next book goes live … AND a series
of
free
short
stories.

In the meantime, you can
also check out my other work at
Smashwords
:
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/hoosierpen.

Thanks for
reading!

Adam Hughes

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About the Author

I am
a chemist and mathematician by training, an IT professional
by trade, and an author at heart. I live in central Indiana and
frequently work Hoosier climes into my stories.

My writing tastes run from
sports to horror and are meant for a mixture of audiences. You can
find free short stories and other goodies on my website
at:

http://adamhugheswriter.com/

You can also find most of
my titles at Smashwords:

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/hoosierpen

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Me:

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