No Pit So Deep: The Cody Musket Story (12 page)

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve already learned to read your face.”

She smirked, leaned back against the screen, and crossed her arms. “Oh, you think so? Well, what does this face tell you?” She pulled her sunshades down to the end of her nose and glared at him over the top of the frames.

He pulled his cap down over his eyes, slouched back, and arrogantly folded his arms. “It tells me that underneath that frown and those shades you’re laughing your head off right now.”

She erupted, mirror sunglasses flying through the air. Her sweet laughter was music he had missed for a lifetime. He caught her shades before they reached the ground.

They were quiet for a few seconds.

“Cody, what are we doing? I know why you’re trying to be funny.”

A modest air current had coaxed a wisp of hair into Brandi’s face. Cody reached over and brushed it away.

“A merry heart does wonders like a medicine," he said.

She couldn’t hide her surprise. “Do you know where that quote is from?”

“Uh, I heard it somewhere. Ingrid Bergman?”

“Of course not. It’s from the Bible.”

“Yeah, I know,” he proudly announced. “Proverbs 17:22.”

“You’re certainly the most
un-boring
man I have ever met.”

“Un-boring? Is that all you can say?”

“No. But that’ll do for now.”

They listened for a few moments as players from both teams stretched and interacted on the infield. The sun retreated behind a low, restless cloud, so Brandi slipped her shades back inside her purse.

A blackbird landed on the fence twenty feet away, then crackled as it swooped down to snatch up a leftover peanut off one of the bleachers. The fluttering of its wings grew softer and softer as it soared skyward. Cody watched the bird until it disappeared, and then dropped his eyes again and shut them. The chatter on the infield died away and all was quiet.

“It was to
their
shame.”

“What?”

“It was to
their
shame,” Cody said, “
not yours.
The guy with the huge biceps had you in a chokehold, and your phone and shoes were scattered among strangers in that hallway. Your blouse looked like the dogs had fought over it, your hair was everywhere and your arms and stomach were lacerated and streaked with mud from the dirty carpet. Your lip was bleeding. I remember all of it.” 

Brandi withered into the chair and covered herself with her arms. “Cody, there are just no words.”

He lifted his head, nodded his eyes, and rendered a quiet offering. “I know.”

For a silent moment, she fixated
upon his well-tested face, then closed her eyes and surrendered warm tears that had welled up underneath her eyelids. She unwrapped her arms and comfortably dropped her hands to her lap.

Cody leaned in. “He had me measured. He was ready to throw down on me with that knife. You could hardly breathe, but somehow, you managed to reach back and deflect his arm. Right then, you were the most beautiful woman I have ever seen — the bravest person in that hallway.”

She held out her hand and searched for his knee like the blind reaching for a friend.

“You were
not
a victim,” he said. “You remembered your roots and the source of your strength.”

“But I was so scared. I couldn’t stop trembling afterward. I wanted to crawl into a hole. I wouldn’t even look at you.”                       

“I know, but you had a job to do. You didn’t stay in your hole. You came back to interrogate me. Your hands were still shaking when we were in the coffee shop.”

She finally opened her teary eyes and looked downward. A beetle moved along the seam where the grass met the dirt track. Her white socks, now dusty on the sides, were toe-to- toe with those silly orange-and-blue tennis shoes Cody was wearing. She brushed back tears with her hand.

Cody’s gravelly words pierced her willing heart at barely above a whisper. “You think courage means you never cry? Never get scared? You’re armed and dangerous, Brandi Barnes. That’s what brought me back to find you.”

She leaned backward against the screen. Her former boyfriend, the stabbing, and now the attack in the theater — in the aftermath of all, she had been in someone else’s skin. She had convinced herself the violence had happened to that
other
person.

Now, sitting with Cody, she finally gave herself permission to own it. The abuse, the scars — yes, they were hers.

Cody placed the cap back on her head. Brandi pulled it low over her face. He waited while her tears purged the anguish from her soul.

She finally nudged the cap above her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cody.” She opened her purse and fumbled for some tissue.

“Don’t be.” He offered a clean handkerchief from his pocket.

“You’re just like my father.” She raised the cloth and blotted her face. “He always knows the right thing to say,” she paused, looked him in the eye, “a
nd
not
to say
.” Her voice was now steady. A faint smile broke through.

He looked toward the infield. “They’re gonna start early batting practice. We better vacate. It’s gonna start rainin’ baseballs around here.” He returned the chairs. This time, Brandi followed him into the pen.

After he had set the seats down, he did an about-face and saw her standing there. Brandi turned her cap around with the bill in the back, and then wrapped her arms around his neck.

She moved her lips close. “Do you know when I finally stopped trembling last night?”

“No, but I have the feeling you’re gonna tell me.”

“It was when you picked me up in your arms and kissed me.”

“I don’t often have
that
effect on women.”

“You certainly have that effect on me.” She removed his cap and held it in her hand.

“But we’re in the bullpen. Are you trembling again?” He looked around, pretending to be nervous.

“Ohhhh, yesss. Definitely.” She kissed him passionately and then gazed into his face. Her pupils moved side to side, searching for the hidden message in his eyes — eyes soft, but now sad, troubled.

At that moment, a child’s voice rang out from the bleachers next to the bullpen railing. “Hey, guys, you gotta see this! Come quick!”

She took his arm and pulled him back through the gate onto the field. Cody picked up her shoes, tied the strings together and looped them around his neck.

“I know now which one you are,” she declared as they walked toward the infield.

“I give up. What’re you talking about?” His granite face was back.

“You’re a big something disguised as nothing.” She held his arm with both hands as they walked. “Aren't you going to tell me I need to do my face again?”

He stared straight ahead. “Nothin’ wrong with
that
face.” He was broody, the smile he had worn earlier now gone.

"Cody, what's wrong? Should I not have kissed you?"

He bit his lower lip. "I got problems with relationships too.”

“Oh, right. I bet you have hundreds of women throwing themselves at you.”

“I dunno know how to answer that. I don’t make myself available.”

“So you’re not available?” Her feet were suddenly heavy, dragging. “Cody, is there someone else in your life? Be serious, okay? I just need to know."

“You’ve seen my legs. Can you imagine anyone wanting to go to the beach with me?”

Her eyes lit up. She pulled herself close, flashed a grin, and donned her sunshades. “Well,” she strutted, “there are no beaches around here.”

The weather remained perfect for the Saturday night game. The crowd of twenty-nine thousand Pirate fans was rewarded. Astros pitcher, Mark Stiller, Cody’s roommate, gave up a first-inning double to leadoff hitter, Nick Colter followed by a two-out, two-run home run by Tanner McNair, and it was all downhill from there for Houston.

In the fifth inning, Cody doubled off the bullpen screen in center field, inches above where Brandi had sat that afternoon. If the ball had struck just one foot higher, it would have given him his twenty-second home run of the season.

Sandy Stiller, the wife of Cody’s roomie, sat in front of Brandi. She turned and introduced herself. “How long have you known Cody?”

“Not long. So your hubby is Cody’s roommate?”             

“Yes. Cody’s a loner, kinda’ hard to get to know. You must really be special. This is the first time I’ve known him to invite a woman to a game.”

Felicia Coleman, the wife of Houston shortstop Gerald “Dancer” Coleman, overheard. “Yeah, girl, I notice he glances at you every time he comes back to the dugout.”

Brandi grinned. Knoxi climbed into her lap to get a better look whenever Cody came to the batter’s box with a bat in his hand.

It was a blowout. The Pirates beat the Astros 9-3.

*     *     *

After the game, Tanner and Julia took Cody, Brandi, and her family to Penn Wood River Grill, overlooking the Allegheny. Tanner rented a private room. It was a cool evening, and they opened the large sliding doors, which allowed breezes off the river to fill the room with a sweet, natural ambience.

Spirited after-dinner conversation gave Sly the opportunity he had anticipated all afternoon. “Hey, Brandi, Did Cody tell you about the first time he pitched in high school?”

“Oh, God help us,” Julia said. “We should go for a walk on the deck.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Brandi replied. “I gotta hear this.”

“Well, it was the seventh inning and the hitter comin’ up was Kenneth Davis — biggest home run hitter in the district. Our coach put Cody in to pitch.”

Brandi turned to Cody. “I didn’t know you pitched too.”

“Well, I…in high school, I —” 

Tanner stood and raised his volume. “So here was Cody, this skinny little kid, facing the best player in the league.”

“
I
was the skinny kid?" Cody snorted. “You were so thin you had to run around in the shower just to get wet!”

Brandi and Julia snickered, but Sly ignored the interruption.

“So our coach tells Cody to ‘deck him,’ b’cuz this kid had already hit two home runs and he was gettin’ too comfortable at the plate.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear how the story comes out this time.” Julia tried her best to sound bored.

“Now just hear me out. Cody gets mixed up, and he’s so nervous he hits the batter in the on-deck circle.”

“You’re kidding!”

“Of course he’s kidding,” Cody said. “Do you know how far the on-deck circle is from the plate?”

Sly played it right on cue. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about — see, the visiting coach comes out and claims that since his player on deck was hit by d’ pitch, he should be awarded first base! But our coach comes out and says that if the other guy goes to first base he should be ruled out for battin’ out o’ turn. There was this big rhubarb, and everybody involved got kicked out o’ da game, including our hero here.” He pointed to Cody, then sat back down, crossed his arms and flashed his Hostess Twinkie smile again.

Cody wasn’t laughing. “How many think that story was true?”

Julia and Brandi raised their hands.

“Well, listen to this.” Cody bounced up. “After Cap’n Sly quarterbacked us to the district championship in football, he told reporters that his
two
greatest assets were his legs, his arm, and his brains.”

Brandi and Julia erupted. Brandi knocked her water glass over, and that escalated the hilarity.

“Good thing he did a postgame interview, cuz otherwise the fans wudda never known that he looked for his open receivers, we played sixty minutes, and that our guys were a team.”

Julia and Brandi laughed so hard they fed off each other’s energy. The stories were not
that
funny, but the laughter was. Soon, it was contagious.

As the group left through the crowded front portion of the restaurant, the two women still could not gain control of themselves, hanging on to each other like tipsy sisters. This prompted Sly to address the Saturday night crowd.

He quoted a verse from the King James Bible. “These are not drunk as ye suppose.” 

The crowd applauded, and Tanner spent the next ten minutes signing autographs — the perfect way to end the night for a smiling hometown hero.

*     *     *

After arriving back at the hotel, Brandi and Cody decided to wind down with a cup of decaf in the lobby, after which they took the elevator to the twelfth floor and then walked slowly down the hall toward her room.

Brandi took Cody’s arm. “Where is our security team?”

“Invisible. They have all the entrances to this floor covered.”

“I didn’t see anybody,” she said.

“That’s the idea. You probably didn’t see the people watching us at the stadium either.”

“Nope. Didn’t notice. And the restaurant too?”

“Covered.”

“You should know that you are the first man I have ever let see me cry.”

“
Ha!
I find that hard to believe.”

“I know. I cry easily, but not in front of men.
Not ever.”

“I guess that makes me special.”

“No. That’s not what makes you special.” She tried to nestle closer. They were quiet as they approached the door to her room.

“Cody, you said something this afternoon about your scars. If I had scars like yours, I wouldn’t be ashamed for anyone to see them.”

“But you haven’t seen…I mean it goes deeper than that.”

“And the cross-shaped scar? How deep does that go?”

“You don’t give up,” he concluded. “I don’t want people to know what happened. What I saw. What I felt. What I still feel. Some things you just don’t talk about.”

“You don’t look upon yourself as a hero, Cody. I get that.” They stopped in front of her door.

“Do you think I would’ve surrendered to the Taliban if I had known what they would do to me? I wasn’t
that
brave. And there are things you don’t know about me — stuff you wouldn’t like.”

She placed her arms around his neck and looked him in the eye. “I want to know.”

“Once a journalist, always a journalist. I guess it’s your nature to wanna know the story even if you aren’t gonna write it. I don’t resent it. It’s who you are.”

“You think that’s why I’m asking? It’s my nature? Cody, the only place I want to write your story is on my heart. Can you not see that? Can’t you trust me?”

“Like I told you, it’s myself I don’t trust.”

“Cody, this afternoon in center field, you knew I was hurting. I was foolish to think I could hide it from you.”

He looked down and away.

She gripped his shoulders and shook him gently. “Cody, look at me. You made me feel pretty, clean, brave, loved. That’s what a hero does. When you pulled off my shoes this afternoon because you cared about my pain, I wanted to believe with all my heart that you’re the man who’ll always be there to catch me if I fall. You want to know why I called you
un-boring
earlier?"

He gazed into her eyes and said nothing.

"You stand ten feet tall and destroy three armed killers with your bare fists, but a few hours later, you kneel at my feet and sooth my burning skin with hands as soft as velvet mittens. You’re too shy to change your shirt in front of me, but you sweep me up and kiss me without warning. You mention ‘armed and dangerous’ and ‘Tyler Roses’ in the same breath. You hardly smile, but you are the funniest guy I’ve ever known.”

He was silent, introspective.

She stroked his face, her eyes glistening. “You’ve suffered more than I have, Cody, but you’re too honorable to point that out, and you never told me to
just get over it
.”

“I’m not the guy you think —”

She put her fingers over his lips. “I have known you barely twenty-four hours, man of steel, but I make up my mind quickly. I’m either all in, or I’m all out. With you, I’m all in. I want to know why that scares you so much.”

Cody’s eyes were warm, wild, troubled.

"I'm not asking for a wedding ring tonight, man of steel. I just want to know what’s going on in this mind of yours.” She tapped on the side of his head with her fingertips. “Please let me in.”

“I get that you don’t waste time," he said.

“Cody, I know you care for me. Can you deny it? Time is something we may not have."

"I could fall so hard for you,” he confessed. “Last night, when I first saw you, I thought I could — But now, I don’t know if…”

“Do I make you nervous? Afraid you’re going to throw a wild pitch and hit the guy on deck?” She searched his eyes. “You said you could read my face, Cody, but I can’t read yours. Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

The bullpen kiss had stayed with him all through the game. All he could think about was kissing her again. But now she wanted answers he couldn’t give.

He shrugged away from her and leaned back against the wall. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

He eased his hands into the front pockets of his cargos and then took a long, deep breath.

“We practiced night traps on the
Harry Truman
. Landing on a carrier at night is something you never get used to. My knees were always shaking.”

Brandi folded her arms and leaned back against the opposite wall.
Where is he going with this?

“One night we returned after a mission — eight aircraft. A thunderstorm had engulfed the boat with forty-knot gusting winds, lightning, driving rain. The deck was pitchin’ up and down and rolling side to side.” He paused, wiped perspiration from his brow.

“The ocean reflected the lights from the carrier, so I couldn’t tell where the boat ended and the water began. I couldn’t tell the sky from the sea 'cause lightning flashes reflected in the waves. I got disoriented and saw myself crashing into the back of the boat. I wanted to panic.”

Brandi imagined herself in the cockpit but then returned to her senses, confused.
Maybe I shouldn’t ask him what he’s thinking again. Where’s this leading
?

“Then I reminded myself to look for my LSOs — landing signal officers — experienced aviators dressed in these funky iridescent outfits, holding lighted batons. They shine the batons toward a thirty-foot-long area on the approach end of the runway where the four arresting wires are located. You have to catch one of the wires with the tail hook to stop the aircraft.

“Flying at 130 knots at night with flashes of light and the boat bouncin’ around and having to hit an area that small — scariest thing you can imagine. The first seven before me missed, and then I missed. We flew back around and tried again. In all, I made three approaches before I caught one of the wires.”

“Terrifying, Cody. But your point is?”

“Disorientation, vertigo — it’s what life is like for me every day since Afghanistan. I can’t find the deck. Dunno where the boat ends and the water begins. I see myself crashing. It’s only a matter of time.”

He shook his head. “Baseball is the one solid thing in my world, and I can’t do that forever.”

“Cody, I’m trying to understand. I want to understand.”

He pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms. “I can’t carry anyone with me. I’m afraid they’ll be destroyed, just like Seismo.”

Brandi’s stomach churned.
Oh, God, I’m in over my head. This is out of my league.

“Cody, if you watch the lightning and focus on what can go wrong, then you’ll never really be alive. You need to just keep your eye on the —”

“I didn’t need any advice. I just needed you to listen.”

Her heartbeat advanced. Giving advice
was
her nature. Why couldn’t he see that?

“Look. I just wanna get beyond all the nightmares, get away from my past. I just —”

“How’s that working out for you?” she interrupted. “Flying solo? If you’re afraid to let anyone get close, you’ve created your own prison for yourself.”

“This isn’t getting anywhere.” He jammed his fists back into his front pockets.

Her eyes fell. “No…I didn’t mean to — I mean, I know you’ve been in a
real
prison, Cody. I shouldn’t have said — Please don’t walk away. Cody, come back.”

“I’ll tell you after we get to Detroit,” he muttered as he walked away.

“Tell me what?”

“How I got the other scar.” His sad eyes looked back before he vanished into the elevator.