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

shit!” Shane shoved him again. Walter made an inaudible sound that did nothing to diffuse the developing situation.
“My mother is sick, mentally sick. My father’s gone, like yours. My mother works hard to put clothes on my back and a roof over my head. And you know something. I have about had it with your sour ass attitude. You haven’t liked me since I came to town. Well bubba, I am going to be here, like it or not. While were at it, the next time you open that shit hole you call a mouth, I will…
“You’ll do what, pretty boy?” questioned Biggie, curling his lips inside the steel cage holding the jawbone together.
“ I WILL KILL YOU!” screamed Shane. “YOU HERE ME!” He grabbed Biggie’s throat and began squeezing tightly.
With jaws locked, Biggie struggled for air. He went down on one knee and his face changed shades like a threatened chameleon. Choking and gagging, Biggie tried to pry Shane’s hands from his neck. Walter grabbed Shane from behind by the waist, and began tugging Shane backwards.
The manager and his pitcher rolled to the ground. Biggie was busily grabbing his Adam’s apple, tugging and stretching the muscle and gulping in the hot, moist August air. Shane managed to slide away but Walter tripped him, and the Walter rose up and stood between both players.
“That’s it!” Walter demanded. He rushed over to tend to Biggie while Shane dusted himself off and stood watching.
“Triplet, what in the hell was you thinking? You coulda killed this boy.”
Stern and steadfast, Shane growled at both of them. “I meant what I said. The next time that he comes close to me or says one moresmart ass comment… I won’t lose my grip next time.” Before Walter could collect some thoughts, Shane marched towards the locker room.
The loss of Shane Triplet and Biggie Rowan was the beginning of a seven-day nightmare for the Sheaville Loggers and its fans. A three game weekend series with the Lake County ended in disaster, with Sheaville being swept at home. The story in the Charleston Gazette on Monday described, precisely, how bad the final game was for Sheaville. In game three of the series, the Captains rallied for four runs in the last five innings, overcoming an early six run deficit in a 7-4 loss.
The Loggers plated four runs in the first two innings and two more tallies in the fifth frame to build a 6-0 advantage. Chaz Martinez continued his torrid hitting at the plate, pounding a fastball to left center field for a home run and accounting for three runs batted in. Ryan Head also played very well, going 2-2 with an RBI. Although Harry Deitzler was unable to attain any RBI’s, his three stolen bases helped the Loggersbuild their lead. Shane and Biggie were helpless to do anything about the loss.
Lake County received six-plus strong innings from starter Tim Spencer, who allowed three earned runs and eight hits to earn his ninth win of the season. However, at 9-7, he remained tied for the most losses in the ABA South Division. The Captains started their rally in the fifth inning when second baseman Zander Madison crushed his fourteenth home run of the season off of starting pitcher Jose Turjillo. Trujillo, a native Panamanian, was called up from the Cincinnati Reds rookie league team in Grand Rapids, Michigan, to replace Shane Triplet. Despite obvious dejection, Shane was supportive and tried to offer some encouraging advice and support for the eighteen-year old left-hander. The Captains added two more runs in the bottom of the seventh inning in the rubber game of the series and finally two more runs in the eighth when Trujillo was pulled for closer Chris Taylor.
The Loggers did not quit, even as Walter Mann began berating his players. Sheaville mustered two more runs in the bottom of the seventh when Harry Deitzler opened with a single before scoring on Pat Sutton’s fourth triple of the season. Sutton then scored when Chaz Martinez singled one out later.
Sheaville’s last run came in the eighth inning when backup catcher Mike Matlock, filling in for the suspended Biggie Rowan, hit a long solo home run to right field. Matlock had ten home runs last season in the Cincinnati Reds Rookie League.
The loss dropped Sheaville to ___ and ___ on the season, putting dropping them to third place in the ABA South Division, and now they were eight games behind the Charleston Alley Cats. Charleston continued their torrid hitting, leading the league with a team batting average of .298, combined with a six game winning streak, and the hopes of Sheaville playing the Alley Cats in the championship series in September were slowly dissipating.
When the Capital City Bombers came to Sheaville, Walter Mann was hoping that strong pitching and good defense would help the Loggers triumph over the losses, but pitching and defense continued to be glaring weaknesses. Capital City received five hits and seven RBI’s from right fielder R.C. Fitzwater throughout the four game series and Zane Crokett scattered nine hits over six innings in game four to lead the Bombers to consecutive wins of 7-2, 6-4, and 4-1 over Sheaville.
The Loggers did not help themselves in either loss. Three errors in game one lead to two runs for Capital City and four errors in game three netted three runs for the Bombers. Chris Taylor, a reliable closer, blew two saves in two separate games. With only six weeks left in the regular season, the Loggers are limping into the final stretch of the season, and without the service of rookie pitching sensation Shane Triplet or veteran catcher Jason “Biggie” Rowan, both suspended by the league, it appears that the Loggers will have to win soon and often and receive some help inside and outside of the division in order to reach the championship series.

XXVI

Walking up along Maple Street and Central Avenue before dawn was a constant surreal experience for Olivia. In the summertime, droplets of morning dew hung like freckles on the lawns of nearly every home in Sheaville, and she could feel the atmospheric stickiness increase as the sun rose from behind the sawmill.
After possessing the newspaper route for several years, Olivia was able to discharge newspapers from her satchel with pinpoint accuracy almost without looking. She personally prided herself on always placing the newspaper within close proximity to the front door, so elderly customers would not strain and shuffle their feet very far to get the newspaper.
As with most mornings, the end of the route brought weariness throughout her entire body. However, early this morning, she was greeted with a horrible stomachache, followed by several minutes of vomiting before the route began. Since she and Morton had eaten chicken fingers for dinner the night before, the second taste of the meal was very unsavory.
Olivia was not running a temperature, yet she had problems convincing her father that she was physically incapable of delivering newspapers. As a result, Olivia quickly developed a headache to compliment the stomachache.
When she reached the end of Maple Street, she began to walk up the hollow to where Shane lived. In all the time spent trouncing up and down the dusty, dirt road, the Triplet home always looked the same. Eerily silent, the home always appeared abandoned. On this morning, Shane was standing in the large flat field next to the house firing pitches at a piece of flat plywood propped up against two small rusted steel beams.
After tossing the newspaper on the front porch where it would undoubtedly rest for several days, Olivia pranced to the field.
“You are out here awfully early,” Olivia said, speaking in between catching small breaths.
“Hey Olivia.” Shane observed as Olivia was approaching that even though she was wearing a white shirt and black shorts, she still maintains are stark, yet unassuming beauty and elegance.
When she reached Shane, she threw her arms around his neck, causing Shane to turn around. When he did, Olivia looked up and gave him a small, pecking kiss. Smiling, Shane hoisted her off the ground and kissed her, and it lasted longer than a split second.
“Ah, that is the best good morning in the world,” Shane said, satisfied.
“I take it that you are trying to relive some tension by throwing the ball out here all by yourself. It sounded like you were trying to throw the ball through that board, not into it.”
“Yea, it keeps my mind off of the fact that I cannot pitch, at least not for a while. But Coach Mann said that he and the Reds have sent a letter asking for a reduction in the suspension for Biggie and me. So, time will tell, I suppose.”
“Hey, that is great Shane,” Olivia responded cheerfully. “From what I read in the newspaper, you all could really use you and Biggie.”
“I just want to pitch you know. That is what I am here for. That is what I do. I pitch and when I cannot do that, I am pretty useless to anyone.”
“That is a matter of opinion,” Olivia added.
“Oh really? Says who?”
“Says me, and your mom. And God. Did you ever consider that he has brought you here for a reason? You have a purpose here Shane.
Rolling his eyes, Shane faced back towards the makeshift bullpen and reached for another baseball.
“I have not really considered much about purpose, or destiny, or any other of that crap. But if you say so.”
“All I am saying is that things happen for a reason that is all. And that you should be thankful for what you have instead of chasing what you want.”
“What I want to know is this, Olivia. How did this discussion go from being about pitching to a philosophical discussion about destiny?”
Shane huffed but Olivia froze. She ceased breathing and was quiet for several seconds, causing Shane to throw another pitch at the plywood and then turn around again.
“Hey, you look freaked.”
“Nothing. I am sure it is nothing,” she replied. Olivia could feel the bowls of her stomach vibrate. “Listen I have to go. Will you be in town today?”
“Yea, I have to go to the drugstore and get some things and say hey to mama. The team is leaving for Augusta in a couple of days.”
“Ok.”
Before Shane could say anything else, Olivia sprinted down the hollow, got on her bike, and peddled as fast as she could down Maple Street and back to her home.
Barging through the front door, she whisked past Morton, who was reading the editorial section of the newspaper. Ignoring him completely, she ran to her room upstairs and began looking at the desk calendar.
*******
“So far, that is $3,127.65 for the festival. At this point, we are approximately $2,397.18 short of funds raised at this point last year,” quoted Phil Rodney during the Sheaville Fall Festival Committee meeting being held in the break room of Rodney’s Department Store.
“The way I see it, our door to door donations are going to have to be spectacular in order to raise the $7,000 dollars we need for the event. Boys, that is going to be quite an undertaking.”
The four-member committee, comprised of Phil Rodney, Frank Miller, Morton Mitchell, and Ryan Head commenced at 2:00pm. For over thirty minutes, the group had been sitting under a dim halogen light in a crowded, stuffy room attempting to consider ways to raise money for the fund raising event.
“See, what did I tell you about this? Our sponsors may not have the cash this year to help us. Maybe I should prepare a statement informing everyone in town that there will be no festival this year,” quipped the major.
“Now,