No Pit So Deep: The Cody Musket Story (11 page)

The restaurant was one of several within the hotel complex. With one wall entirely of glass, it was a perfectly bright and airy place for lunch on a partly sunny Saturday afternoon.

When they arrived, Julia McNair was waiting inside the door. Knoxi was clinging to Cody, which caught Julia by surprise.

“Well, Cody! Who is this holding on to you?” She placed one hand on the toddler’s back as she embraced Cody and kissed him on the cheek. Knoxi burrowed her face into Cody’s shoulder.

“You have certainly done well for yourself, Cody Musket. Who are all these lovely people you are surrounded by?” Julia’s soft brown eyes and smile were like light and music.  

After they were all introduced, Julia grinned at Cody again. “Looks like she’s very attached.” She chuckled as she patted the snuggling toddler on the head.

“Where’s ol’ Cap’n Sly?” Cody asked.

“He’s down in the entry signing autographs for a Boy Scout troop.”

“
Captain Sly?”
Brandi wrinkled her nose.

“Oh. That’s the new nickname he gave my husband when he shaved his head and started wearing his big earring,” Julia informed.

“Yeah, I told him that with the wicked mustache and earring, all he needs now is the proper headdress and an eye patch to look like a real pirate,” Cody said. “And he’s earned the nickname other ways.”

“How so?” Brandi asked him.

“You’ll find out.”

“Now, Cody, you boys need to be civil. We’re in public you know.” Julia loved to scold them both — part of the fun, and it encouraged the two men to be increasingly outrageous together.

The hostess led them to their reserved table. Tanner soon swaggered into the room and caused a stir — all eyes on him. Several parents with their children came to the table for autographs.

Tanner McNair, whose great-great-grandfather had starred in the Negro leagues in the 1930s, had established himself as an elite National League outfielder. He was six feet, 195 pounds, lean and fast, with a chiseled, bodybuilder physique. He wore a one-inch earring on his left ear, but not when playing baseball. His game-face scowl seemed to reinvent itself into a broad grin when the autograph seekers arrived.

Brandi was fascinated. Tanner was in his element. For some people, charm came naturally, but some charmers could turn it up several notches when they wanted to. Tanner —
Cap’n Sly
— clearly was in that category.

The McNairs had left their three-year-old son Jeremy with some friends. After a few minutes, Cody had the floor.

“Okay, listen up everybody. Tanner and I have cooked up a plan for tomorrow night — a way to get him back on Brandi’s show.”

“Yeah,” Tanner interrupted. “I apologize for having to cancel on you, Brandi. We had planned to take the 7:00 p.m. flight to Detroit tomorrow, but instead of flying to Detroit, we could do the show first, then drive up there — all of us.

"Cody and I could
both
participate on your program, and since Cody's goin’ to the All-Star Game too, we could
all
ride up in our Escalade
together
— the four of us and the two kids. It’s just a four-hour drive.
Right, Cody?"
Sly's grin was the size of a Hostess Twinkie.

Cody glared at Tanner, then turned to Brandi as if he had known all along. “Well, I thought…I mean
we
thought —” He paused. “Uh, of course. I think it's a good idea for you to come along,” he fumbled. “I mean especially for security reasons."

“So you’re inviting me to Detroit with you?” Brandi slapped Cody on the shoulder. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Well, I guess —”

“I’d love to go with you — security reasons, of course." She lifted an olive to her mouth and closed her lips around it, attempting to hide her sudden jubilation.

Julia pinched her husband underneath the table, but not before she had secretly buried her left elbow into his ribs.

After dinner, the women excused themselves and headed to the ladies’ powder room together, leaving Knoxi with the men."

Most guys cannot swagger while sitting down. Cap'n Sly was the exception. Though his latest scheme had caught Cody by surprise, his friend's aggressive mischief had done Cody a favor. Brandi had been reticent to come to the hotel with him until the blackout had scared the wits out of her. How much more reluctant might she have been to go to Detroit with a man? Now he didn't have to worry about being rejected.

“So, Cody, who were those brave individuals that attacked Brandi?” Sly’s unfailing grin persisted.

“Dunno yet. The big guy that made those bruises on her neck is a dangerous professional, but the other two were a couple o’ punks. They botched the whole thing, especially the scud mouth swinging a rag around and braggin’ about making Brandi an example.”

“I didn’t hear that part.” Ray dropped his fist on the table. It frightened Knoxi.

“So those characters were amateurs?” Sly narrowed his eyes.

“All three of ‘em should’ve held knives to Brandi’s throat and threatened to kill her if I didn’t let ‘em pass. I wudda had no choice but to step aside. Instead, they attacked me one by one — the dumbest thing they could’ve done. Even the big guy freaked when his two associates behaved like dud scuds.”

“It was meant for you to be there, son.” Ray’s eyes could have fried an egg. “They weren’t expecting someone to stand in their way — especially a
tuffass
Marine with an at-large disposition.”

Tanner thought to lighten things up. “So, did you remind ‘em not to send boys to do a man’s job next time?”

Ray stepped in before Cody could respond. “That’s what we’re concerned about —
next time.”

“We’re trying to keep the press out of it,” Cody said.

“Well, I come prepared.” Tanner wore his game face again.

“So you’re carrying?” Cody looked for a bulge in Tanner’s coat. He had already detected the one under Ray’s left shoulder.

“Nobody messes with my best buddy or his girlfriend.”

Captain Sly was psyched. The idea of something secretive and potentially dangerous elevated him to red alert. “We have to be ready for anything.”

Then something at the entrance caught Tanner’s attention. His eyes became beady and snakelike. “Look at that guy coming through the door. He’s into organized crime. I’d bet my batting title on it.”

Ray and Cody took a look and then stared at each other in disbelief.

The man in question came into the restaurant followed by at least fifteen autograph hounds. He sat down at a table on the other side of the room.

Ray cracked the first smile. “That’s Cody’s friend. Didn’t you know that?”

Tanner was completely in the dark. “That guy has to be with the underworld. I know I’ve seen him somewhere.”

The man with the familiar face waved when Cody glanced over at him.

Cody leaned toward Sly.
“Lonesome Dove?
Men in Black?”
He snickered. “Tommy Lee Jones. He’s here for a screen writer’s forum.”

Tanner’s eyes flared.

Cody leaned in further and spoke under his breath. “Just so both you gentlemen know, a security detail is assigned to Brandi and me. They’re in this room right now.”

Ray put his hands on the table. “I already spotted them.”

Tanner scanned the room. “I don’t see nobody.” Then he folded his arms across his chest. “All I can say is, get ready to be hounded. Soon as those autograph vultures finish with Mr. Movie Star, they’ll probably spot me.”

But soon, the crowd around the actor broke up and left.

*     *     *

The ladies entered the powder room. The anteroom at the entrance was about ten by ten, with white tile trimmed in pink and two small burgundy leather sofas on either side with end tables and matching lamps. Decorating the walls were pictures of notable female Pennsylvania celebrities, including a Brandi Barnes autographed photo.

“You’ve fallen hard for him,” Julia concluded, her eyes wild and engaging.

“What gave it away?”

“You mean other than your face lighting up the whole table when you found out you were going to Detroit with him?”

“Was I that obvious?” Brandi giggled.

Whitney was amused. The younger women were bonding like sisters.

Julia was Brandi’s age and had been a runner-up in the Miss Black USA Pageant during her sophomore year at the University of Maryland. Her facial skin was tight and smooth, and her long ponytail swayed across her lower back as she walked. Her pink Summer Blossom pantsuit was a perfect fit for a well-trimmed body that visited the gym three times per week. She hosted Tanner’s charity events, made personal appearances throughout the state, and was the mother of a three-year-old son.

“Cody has never invited a woman to a game. You’re the first,” Julia said.

“Not sure how serious Cody is about the relationship because we just met.”

“Girl, are you kidding me? Have you not noticed the way his face catches fire when he looks at you? Tanner and I’ve known Cody a long time, and I’m tellin’ you that man has stars in his eyes. Tanner told Cody last night that if he didn’t invite you to Detroit, he would kick his backside blessed parts.”

“No kidding?” Brandi chuckled. “Never heard it put that way.”

“Listen, those two have been like brothers since Little League. The longer they hung out, the more mischievous they became. And listen to me, girl, don’t even ask them about their self-defense training they did together ‘cause they’ll want to start demonstrating it.”

“Oh, how funny!”

“Even with fame and distractions, Tanny’s getting things together. He’s a good father. We’re active in our church, and even though he never went to college, he knows about handling money. He even holds finance planning classes for teammates who’re interested.”

“Is the Captain Sly routine just an act?”

“No. Not an act. But he does play dumb once in a while. He and Cody learned that from each other. When they hang out — I mean I pretend to ignore them, but they’re really good together. They can’t stand for the other one to get the upper hand on anything. Always competing. You know how guys are — all that testosterone.”

Whitney headed back to the table while the two younger women stayed to talk.

“I noticed the bruises. Are you okay, Brandi?” They sat down on a sofa in the anteroom.

Brandi filled her in on the events at the theater the night before. “I was so emotional afterward — laughing one minute, crying the next.”

“If you ever need to talk, here’s my cell number.” Julia scribbled the number on a notepad and handed it to her.

“Today, I’m feeling the emotional effects,” Brandi said. “This morning in the shower I must have scrubbed for an hour the places where they manhandled me. I haven’t told my parents or Cody. Don’t want them to know how I feel.”

“Cody knows. You can bet on that,” Julia said, “But you need to talk to someone and...”

Brandi looked away, so Julia changed the subject. “So how much has Cody told you?”

“Afghanistan?” Brandi asked. “Not much. Do you know anything about some children?”

“He has told us very little. Tanny has become very protective of Cody. He loves him like a brother, but Cody won’t share his experience with anyone.”

As they walked back toward the table, Julia said something unsettling. “In the off-season, Cody makes trips to visit a woman in Springfield, Indiana named Myra Waites.”

“A woman?”

“We've no idea who she is but we know she has a son. We found out by mistake.”

Brandi got quiet.
An old flame? Could the son be Cody’s?

“Since Afghanistan,” Julia confided, “Cody has become distant and secretive.”

After lunch, Ray and Whitney returned to the suite with Knoxi. The McNairs gave Cody and Brandi a ride to the baseball park. Brandi still had not received a response from Detective Dupree.

PNC Ballpark is located in the downtown area of Pittsburgh on the bank of the Allegheny. The quaint setting of the park, nestled between the tall buildings and the river, make it one of the most picturesque stadiums in America.

Cody and Brandi arrived more than four hours before game time. “You wanna take a walk with me down on the field?” Cody took her hand.

“So this is where you work? At night mostly?”

“Yep, except when it’s raining or when we have a day game.”

Brandi had been there before, but not on the playing surface with her own celebrity guide.

“Cool! That screen looks amazing from here. And that bridge!” She had never been this close to the giant Jumbotron screen and scoreboard which sat above the left field bleachers. The view of the Roberto Clemente Bridge beyond center field was awesome when seen from third base.

Cody looked toward the bullpen in the deepest part of the outfield. “Wanna go out to center field?”

“Why center field?”

“Cause it’s a long way from people,” he said. “We can talk out there.”

They began the long, leisurely walk.

“So, um, do you have a lot of girlfriends — beside Maxine, that is?” Would he dare mention Myra?

“Not really. I, uh — Why? Why do you ask?”

A good barb seemed appropriate. “Well, not meaning to be vexatious, but Julia said you’re quite the ladies’ man, always inviting women to your road games.”

“But I’ve never invited one of 'em to center field.”

Brandi hoped that his broad grin was because he was with her and not just because he felt at home on a baseball diamond. For Cody's hardline face, smiles came at a premium.

A few lingering clouds passed overhead and sunlight was peeking through intermittently. The heavy rains from the previous day had ceased twenty hours earlier. Field-level temperature had fallen into the middle seventies — cool for July — and it would surely shape up to be a perfect night for baseball.

As they passed by second base, she took his arm with both of hers and pulled herself closer. Someone whistled from behind them. Without looking, Cody responded, “That’s enough out of you, Joey.”

The whistler was José Bustamante, Houston’s Dominican right fielder and the leading hitter on the club. Lately, the two had become friends. Cody had helped José improve his English, which José appreciated, and Cody loved showing off his Spanish, which José happily tolerated. 

The couple walked on toward the bullpen, which was located just to the left of straightaway center field. In the pen, relief pitchers warmed up their arms prior to entering the game. A screen fence separated the bullpen from the field of play.

The sun peeked between two clouds momentarily. During the storms the night before, Cody had visualized Brandi’s hair basking in sunlight. His vision had now come to life, and she was even more radiant than he had imagined. Her nearness, her tenderness, the wonder. Could the man he used to be live again? Feel again?

Should he break his silence? Tell her things that were hidden away in deep places? If so, how much should he reveal?

“I was pronounced terminal when they got me to the Army hospital at Kandahar,” Cody said. “My left knee was as large as a Coyanosa watermelon and smelled worse than a dried-up water hole in the cattle country. The only chance I had was for the surgeon to amputate. Even with an amputation they didn’t think I had a chance to survive.”

“So what happened?” She looked down at his left foot and imagined it not being there. “Cody? Can you tell me what happened?”

“A Canadian anesthesiologist, Sergeant Nikki Corbett, asked me point-blank if I was a Christian. I resented it. I already believed in God but I didn’t think I could be forgiven for what I had done. I didn’t have anything left to live for. I was losing my leg, I couldn’t fly anymore, I had no one to return home to, and I was responsible for…” He never finished.

Brandi knew not to push, although patience was not her favorite virtue.

“Nikki said that even though I believed my life was over, God might have a better plan for me than flying and being a Marine. I couldn’t imagine not flying. Then she told me that if I was willing to give up my own plans in favor of God’s plan, He would give me a new life.”

“I might cry again, Cody, but don’t stop there. What happened?”

“The hate I felt — I mean the hate in my head was killin’ me faster than the infection. Just before I lost consciousness, I…” His voice trailed off.

She waited. “So...so how are you doing on the hate?”

“It’s not that simple.”

They had come to the edge of the playing field. He left her and entered the bullpen through the gate, brought back two folding chairs, and set them on the dirt track next to the screen fence. They sat down facing each other.

“I asked God for forgiveness, begged Him to take away the hate. Told Him I would exchange the life I had made for myself for whatever life He had for me instead.”

“Well,” she pleaded, “tell me what happened.”

“When I finally woke up three days later, Nikki was sitting there. I looked down and saw five dark blue toes on my left foot, which was still attached. Everyone at Kandahar said it was a miracle. The surgeon, Captain Jefferson, even became a believer later on.”

“So, how was your left leg injured?” She waited, spoke softly, “Cody, can you trust me with that?”

“No one should hear
that
story, cuz once you've heard it, you will never be able to unhear it."

“Something terrible happened, I get that, but if God did a miracle —”

“Yeah, but something doesn’t make sense. I wanna be free from it all — the hate, the violence in my head. That’s what I asked God for, but I’m still not past any of it. Like I said, it just doesn’t add up.” He shook his head.

“
Duh!
Maybe God isn’t finished yet. Did you ever think of that?”

Cody squinted and stared off into left field. “But it’s been four years.”

“Knoxi’s recovery was a miracle.” Brandi changed the subject. “And I’ve been different ever since the incident at the mission. That day, God invaded the impossible. Since then I’ve found courage to do things I would never have done before.”

“Like take on the traffickers?”

“Yes, but I still have issues too,” she confessed. “I can’t trust people — especially men — since the stabbing. I came back here to reconnect with my parents and the values they had taught me, but loneliness is an itch I still can’t scratch.”

Cody leaned forward. “I can trust God, but I don’t trust myself.” He took his cap off and set it on the ground. “I can’t forgive myself.”

“Forgive yourself? Forgive yourself for what?”

“I wanna ask you something.” He ignored her question. “Last night at the theater, you closed your eyes and quit fighting in the middle of the attack and said a prayer. After that, I showed up, right?”

“That’s right. My father has created a list of what he calls his Five Greatest Principles of Leadership. One of them is, ‘
In the heat of battle when you are losing ground, be still and know that He is God, and He will speak to you.’”

“So which number is that?”

“Number seven.”

“
Number
seven?
I thought there were just five.”

“Well.” She shrugged. “It started off with five, but over the years…”

“Hmmm. Well, what if you hadn’t
been still
and prayed? Would I have still shown up?”

“That’s a question for the ages. All I can say is, it was right for me to pray, and it was right for you to be there.”

Cody rubbed his chin and stared down at her knee socks and tennis shoes. “Still can’t bend over?”

“I’m still stiff but I plan to live.” Brandi noticed he was looking at her shoes, so she quipped, “How ‘bout those big bubba boots your Texas women wear? Are they comfortable?”

“Of course they’re comfortable,” he bragged. “They’re padded with Bowie feathers.”

“I don’t even
want
to know what that means.”

“Bowie feathers?” He raised one eyebrow. “That’s the fuzz from Texas peaches.”

“Well, why not name it
Houston
feathers? Or
Musket
feathers, or —”

“Cuz Jim Bowie invented the only knife that’ll harvest the fuzz without destroyin’ the peach.” True to form, his flintlock expression never twitched.

“I said I
didn’t
want to know.” She couldn’t afford to give in. Laughing would hurt too much.

“No need to suffer today,” he said. “You should give these up.”

“What?” She stiffened. “Give what up?”

He reached down toward her ankles and opened his callused hand. Without thinking, she lifted her left foot and slipped it into his waiting palm. He loosened the shoestrings and delicately eased the tennis shoe off her swollen foot. After a moment, the other shoe followed.

“How did you know?” she whispered.

He set her shoes beside his chair. “Wear just the socks ‘till you can get some flip-flops at the team store on the mezzanine behind first base. You’ll feel better.”

Brandi’s eyelids fell shut as the cooling afternoon air penetrated through her cotton socks. Her voice became feather-soft. “I was horrible to you last night — cruel and selfish.”

Cody shrugged her off. “Nah, you weren’t. Of course, you might’ve been a little mean and ornery. Waspish and petulant, maybe.”

She tried to smile, but her chin softened and tremored. “They
meant
to bruise me, shame me, make me a public example.” She placed her hand over her lips.

“It’s okay,” his words like a quiet breath. “Nobody can hear us.”

“Afterward, I wanted to scrub every place they touched me. If you hadn’t been there — I mean that’s what they do. It’s a warning to anyone else that...anyone else that…”

“Anyone else that stands up to ‘em?”

She wrung her hands and looked away. “I was so angry. Shamed in public. I didn’t need your understanding or your pity. I just had to show how tough I was, but all I did was take out my humiliation on you.”

“So how do you feel now?”

“Violated. I can’t help it, Cody. I didn’t want you or my parents to know. I feel so exposed, helpless, ugly. I can’t get it out of my mind. I hate that.”

He nodded.

“Yesterday, I could never have dreamed of sitting here now with Cody Musket next to the bullpen in the middle of this huge stadium, but after last night, I wonder how much future any of us has.”

“Are you scared?”

“I’d be lying if I said no.” A tear rolled from the corner of her eye. “I’ve drawn you into my trouble. You have enough of your own. I’m a target. Maybe you should stay as far away from me as you can get.”

“Right now, that wouldn’t be very far.” He brushed her tear with his thumb.

Her pulse raced like a little girl lost in the dark who had just found the porch light. “Cody, I regret that when I met you I was so pitiful, angry, irrational, and…”

Just then, the sunshine broke through again.

“May I do something?” He reached up and removed her baseball cap. “Last night, during the storm, when I first saw you, I tried to imagine how your hair would look with sunlight shining through it, just like it is now.” He stroked her hair.

“Before we had even met?”

“Up ‘til last night,” he said, “I didn’t believe anything on this planet was bolder or more beautiful than the Tyler Rose of Texas that grows down in my hometown of Big Rock.”

Brandi couldn’t help herself. She grinned and then laughed. “Awww shucks, John Wayne, are you trying to be romantic? Like in the movies? I shouldn’t have spilled my guts about loving old melodramatic films so much.”

Cody’s expression faded from his lips, prompting Brandi’s smile to desert her face.

“Oh, Cody, I’m so sorry.” She touched his arm. “You were serious? You actually thought about the sun in my hair? The roses?” She stared. “And I just insulted you and walked away."

Cody hung his head but could not hide a guarded grin. Despite her stiffness, Brandi bent low, looked up into his face, and beamed. “Earth to Cody? So does that mean you’re a serious romantic?”

He raised his eyes. “You mean like Barry Grant?”

“It’s
Cary
Grant, and I knew that underneath that rough exterior was more than just a tough ballplayer who liked to wear pink boots.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He motioned with his hands like an umpire ruling a runner safe.

She poked him on the left shoulder. “Do you even know what
waspish
means?” She pulled a pair of mirror sunglasses from her purse.

“Don’t be so petulant. Of course I know what it means.” He leaned back in the chair. “Just don’t ask me to define it.”

“You really think you’re funny?”

“I’m a quick study.” He reached down and picked up his cap.