The Prospect, Eliot Parker [free ebooks for android .TXT] 📗

of the crew just want burgers with all the trimmings and chocolate shakes.”
“I will get that order started. And tell that son of mine to come up here and give his mother a hug.”
Harry smiled and glanced at Olivia, Frank, and Morton while responding appropriately. “Sure thing, Mrs. T.”
“I had best be taking my newspaper back to work. I got some prescriptions to fill and some shelves to stock.” Patting the countertop with his hand, he waved, spoke to the other Loggers players and left the diner.
The teammates seated themselves at their usual booth beside the door, in plain view of the elongated window that ran the length of the right side of the diner.
“Man, we surely spanked those pussies in Kannapolis the other night,” suggested Chaz, despite little interest from the rest of the group in talking baseball.
“T…t…t…hanks to Pat,” reminded Ryan. “If it hadn’….t been for his three h…h…hits in the that g…g…game, we would have l…lost by three r…r…runs.”
“Yea, well we can’t get too confident,” Shane interjected. His comment drew some disconcerting looks from everyone sitting in the booth. “I just think we need to win as many games as we can so that we can get a lead in the division and focus on taking down the Alley Cats in September.”
“I still wonder why Walter skipped over me in the rotation at Kannapolis. It was my turn to pitch game two.”
“There has to be some rewards for being invited to the all-star team,” suggested Harry.
“A…all I know is t…t…that everyone is c…counting on us to t…t…take the title away from C…c…Charleston this year,” Ryan said. “I h..hear that e..everyw..where I go.”
Chaz used the moment to voice his perspective on the matter.
“From what I hear, we are the most talented team Sheaville has had in years. I think that as long as we can play well at home and get some wins on the road, we will be fine. That is, as long as some of you douche bags aren’t so negative about things.”
The comment was meant specifically for Shane, but he was busy staring at the counter. Observing Morton and Olivia Mitchell sitting at the counter with his mama was resembled a portrait frozen in time. The thought of Morton Mitchell having anything to do with his family made the hairs on Shane’s neck stand up.
Everything made little sense to Shane. The conversation in the mayor’s office, the sudden invitation to dinner at the Mitchell house…none of it seemed to fit. The thought did serve as a reminder that he would somehow find out the connection Morton Mitchell had with his father.
For a split second, Shane thought about going down the street to the mayor’s office and looking at that picture on the wall of Roger and Morton. But that would not be prudent, especially with the main person in question sitting a mere ten yards away.
“Hey, numbnuts, you on planet earth?” chided Chaz. “Earth to cock nuts, come in cock nuts…”
“Knock it off!” responded Shane. “I was just thinking.”
“You might want to be thinking about Augusta there chief. They are coming to town tomorrow. You are scheduled to start game one,” Chaz added. The comment did not register with Shane immediately.
“Relax, Martinez, Trip’s got his mind on some pune tang, that’s all.” Harry flashed a wide smile.
“W…w…what are you t…talking about?” questioned Ryan, who now reentered the conversation after several seconds of silence.
“I guess blabbermouth here told you that I came over to the mayor’s house the other night for dinner,” Shane said.
“Well, it was more like making a total fool of yourself, but it does count as a visit,” Chaz teasingly added.
“I had a nice time,” Shane concluded. “There were some rough spots, but it is not everyday that I get asked to go to someone’s house for dinner.”
Ryan looked up at the counter, made eye contact with Olivia as she looked back towards the booth, then settled his glance back on Shane.
“Y…y…y…you must have l…left a g…g…good impression on his daughter. She is s…s…staring at you right n…now.”
Shane turned sideways and noticed that Olivia was fixated on him, watching his every move. Olivia, dressed in a light blue tank top with black shorts shined like a beacon against the dim, smoky backdrop of the diner’s kitchen. With a swift motion, she smiled and waved at Shane. He felt horrible for not speaking to her when he came in.
In an instant, Olivia skipped over to the booth and introduced herself to the Ryan and Harry, and patted Chaz on the shoulder. After some pleasantries were exchanged, Olivia asked to speak with Shane outside.
From the front of the diner, Joann Triplet was assembling four chocolate milkshakes. From the hissing sound emanating from the kitchen, it would be a matter of time until the cheeseburgers were ready. Joann stared forward intently as she watched Shane lean against the glass window in front of the diner. His head was leaning forward and it appeared that he was listening as Olivia was speaking.
“Who is that person my boy is talking to mayor?” questioned the waitress. “I have seen her in here before but I do not know her name.”
In a gesture typical of a politician, the mayor puffed up his chest and shoulders and spoke confidently, “That is my daughter Olivia.”
“My, my, land sakes alive. When Roger and I lived here before I do not think you even had a daughter. Olivia must have been born later,” Joann said.
“Yea, she is my pride and joy. I just do not know what her relationship is to your son, that’s all.”
“Good question,” offered Joann.
Outside the diner, it was nearing noon and the lunch crowd was beginning to filter in slowly and steadily. Olivia stuck her hands underneath Shane’s tattered Loggers tee-shirt and was pressing him into the window.
“I have missed you,” she said sweetly. “I am glad that you made it back home safe. I did not get a chance to tell you how proud everyone in town is about your award from the game a few weeks back.”
Unsure of what to do, Shane thanked Olivia for the compliment.
“Shane, I was hoping that we could talk. A lot of things happened that night you came over, and I…”
“Look,” Shane interrupted. “It is my fault that I have not gotten in touch with you.” Shane was shifting his weight from one foot to the other as Olivia was tickling his chest with her hands. “I should have come by, or called, and I left town and said nothing.”
“I am just as much at fault,” Olivia added. “Leaving you twisting was bad.” Embarrassed and somewhat flattered, the pitcher could feel his cheeks sizzling under the hazy sunshine. “You helped me with my…uh…incident. Had you not been there, I am not sure what might have happened.”
Shane attempted to slip away and walk back into the diner, but was impeded by Olivia. Struggling to get free, Shane lips were locked into a tender, warm kiss. In response, Shane placed his hands on Olivia’s hips and submissively accepted the kiss.
Pulling away, Olivia placed her index finger on one of Shane’s dimples flashing a brilliant smile. “See ya soon.”
From the diner, Morton Mitchell felt like he needed a shovel to pull his jaw from the floor. Joann Triplet stood erect, and could only muster enough air to postulate a few words.
“I think I know their relationship now.”

XXV

The news of the suspensions mandated by Tim Morrison and the Appalachian Baseball Association coincided with Biggie Rowan returning to the Loggers team in early August. In haste, Walter Mann had failed to inform Shane that a discussion with the commissioner concerning the brawl with Charleston had even taken place, opting to convince Shane and Biggie that skipping three starts was partly a reward and otherwise a preservation effort to keep them fresh for the end of the regular season.
When Walter confessed the truth, Shane and Biggie were less than pleased. He gathered them near home plate at Clark Field, near the identical location where the fight took place.
“So boys, that is how this here whole thing went down and I am sorry to tell ya that your season’s is over.” Walter was careful in choosing his words-choosing to be optimistic and encouraging but serious and determined.
“This is bullshit, that is all it is, full and complete bullshit,” barked Biggie as he slammed his glove into the ground following practice before the Capital City Bombers came to Sheaville for a three game weekend series. Biggie’s words hissed and slurred as he spoke.
For once, Shane agreed with Biggie. “The fight was even. As many of their players were involved with it as we were, coach. This IS shit, plain and simple.”
Biggie Rowan stood piously and listened to the banter between pitcher and manager. With his jaw still wired shut and sore, incessant arguing was not a realistic way of communicating his thoughts.
“I know what your saying, and there is some of them that has been suspended also,” the manager argued, diplomatically. “But you have to know that we were the home team and it was our job to keep it going by fighting more.”
Shane approached Walter, standing only inches from his face, prohibited from getting closer by the skipper’s bulging stomach. From a distance, Shane could see two dark hairs creeping out from under the manager’s left nostril.
“There were scouts from the Cincinnati Reds there, coach. That is the only place I have ever wanted to play. I want to be like Tom Browning, or Jose Rijo. I want to have the chance to pitch in a World Series like they did. Didn’t you protest their decision? I mean, a whole season, why coach?”
Biggie inhaled quickly and grimaced at Shane’s comment.
Truthfully, Walter did not object to the commissioner’s ruling. Arguing with the commissioner was certainly a one-way ticket to unemployment as a manager in the ABA. Walter tried to hide his guilt over not speaking up for his players, yet Shane could sense the manager was being inaccurate.
“I did, yep, I did, but he was certain this was how it was going to go. I am sorry for you and for Biggie. But the best thing you can do is support your teammates and stay in shape for next season.” Walter knew Shane and Biggie would not accept the righteous piety of the situation.
“How am I going to break the news to my mother that us relocating here from Pittsburgh is for nothing. She hates it here. The only reason she was willing to move here is because I had a chance to play in the major league’s someday. Now you are telling me because I participated in a fight to protect my teammates that the dream is over. Well, I am not giving up coach. Not without a fight.”
Biggie Rowan stepped in between Walter and Shane and faced the pitcher. Speaking with clichéd teeth, the catcher was not satisfied with what was being said.
“You sniveling prick!” he hissed. “All you can think about is you. How about me? I have been here three years. This was my year to leave this god-awful town and move on. Now, I am going to be here for another year. That’s four years. You talk about moving from Pittsburgh? Try coming from New Jersey. The projects! Try having six kids and a mother and no loot. That is why I am here, so they will have a better life. Something you know dick about.”
Enraged, Shane shoved the Biggie, knocking the 6’6 catcher backwards.
“Don’t you pretend to know me. You don’t know