Caroline's Purpose

by Erica Zaborac

  “There you are.” Ryan pushed off the pillar and kissed her cheek. Caroline searched his face and took note of the extra sparkle in his expression.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Caroline closed her fingers around his as he took her hand and led her into the union. “You seem extra happy.”

  “You noticed.” He beamed at her. “Well, I am. The fall ball preseason polls came out today, and they have us ranked as number one in the conference. My name is also being circulated around by some MLB scouts, so it’s been a pretty good day.”

  Caroline tried to force a smile as her heart dropped in her chest. She was thrilled for him, but at the same time, his success was another reminder of everything she had lost. “That’s great.” She squeezed his hand.

  “Isn’t it?” He was still beaming, not picking up on her sadness. “You hungry? The usual?”

  “Yeah, sounds good.” Ryan led her into the line for Chick-Fil-A and continued talking about his day.

  “I love my schedule this semester. Taking these online classes was a great decision. It’s freed up so much time during the day. I can hit in the cage or weight lift basically whenever I want. It’ll really help me get my power hitting numbers up from the left. I need to get them equal with my numbers from the right side, ya know? Keep those scouts talking.” Ryan finished his thought without taking a breath. He stepped up to the counter and ordered their food. After he paid and took the bag, he went right back to talking about his plans. Caroline tuned him out as she grabbed napkins and ketchup, then followed him to an open table.

  They slid into the booth and Ryan handed her one of the chicken sandwiches from the bag. “I just feel like this is my year, ya know? To make some noise and get drafted, start making things happen.” He paused to take a bite.

  Caroline nodded her head as she chewed. Between each bite, Ryan kept on talking. It was easy for her to see how excited he was about all of this, as he should be. He had worked hard, and it was starting to pay off for him. She just wished that she could share in his success, or at least feel the same joy he was experiencing.

  “Caroline? Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah. That’s all really great, Ry. I’m happy for you.”

  “Just gotta keep working.” He smiled. “What about you? You excited for practice?”

  She stopped chewing. “Why would you ask that?”

  Ryan paused, swallowing and blinking before he answered her. “I just meant if you were excited to see everyone and help out. I think it’s awesome you still get to be a part of the team.”

  “Even if it is ‘awesome,’ it’s not the same. I think it’s going to be really hard for me.” She looked down at the table.

  Ryan hesitated once again, unsure of what to say. He cleared his throat, buying time. “Well, how were your classes? What did you have today?”

  She lifted her eyes to his and saw that he was asking this question with sincerity. He didn’t remember what she had had to do today. “I had stats and chem, and my first class at the farm,” she muttered.

  “How’d that go?”

  “It was okay. I’m not sure I can handle it, though.”

  “Then why do it? You could probably find something else if you’re worried about credit hours.” Ryan dipped a waffle fry down into the ketchup.

  “I’m not worried about credits, but—”

  “Then just drop it. Find something else to do,” Ryan interrupted. “Seems simple enough to me.”

  Caroline stared at him. “It’s not that simple. I need a major, Ryan. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “Honey, haven’t you been listening? Scouts are talking about me. My ticket to the big leagues is pretty much punched. You don’t need anything else but me. Our futures are set. Who cares about school?”

  She searched his eyes and his face to see if he was kidding in a misguided attempt to make her feel better. Sure enough, there was a goofy grin and a twinkle of silliness in his expression. Caroline crumbled up her sandwich wrapper, half of her sandwich uneaten, and threw it in the empty bag. “I have to get going.” She stood up, her chair squealing on the tile floor.

  “Caroline, I was just kidding. What did I do?” Ryan’s shock echoed in every word.

  “Nothing. You’re fine. I just need to go. I’ll talk to you later.” Caroline threw her backpack over her shoulder and walked away from the table without a look behind her.

  Four

  Caroline kept her head down as she walked, her mind swirling from being at the farm, her time with Ryan, and the idea of seeing her teammates and being on the field again. The field used to be her escape, her refuge, but now, she was dreading it.

  A quick glimpse around the batting cages and the dugout showed her she was alone, the first to arrive for practice. The back gate squeaked as she pushed it open and entered the bullpen, the place where she had spent so many hours working on spins and velocity. She shuffled over to the off-white pitching rubber and stared down to home plate. She ran her thumb over the third finger on her right hand and pretended her callous was still there, molded from the seam of the ball burning her skin as it spun away toward the batter.

  A blue crate of softballs sat to her left. Caroline turned toward it, thinking about the weight of the ball in her hand. She reached out, feeling the seams with just the tips of her fingers. It was the first time she had touched one since her last game, and it still felt like home.

  Without giving it a second thought, she picked up the ball, dropped her backpack to the red clay dirt, and went back to the pitching rubber. She lined up her feet, placing each one with more purpose and exactness than she ever had before. She rolled the ball around in her hand, thinking about the possibility, the chance, that the doctors were wrong.

  Just one pitch. One throw, and I can prove them all wrong, she thought to herself. One strike, that’s all I need. Then I can feel the excitement and joy Ryan has. Then I can have a purpose again. Caroline shifted her weight to her left foot, imagining the signal from her catcher. She rocked back, picturing where she wanted the ball to go. She took her stride toward the batter, wound her right arm up and around, and released, snapping the ball off next to her hip. The ball slammed to the ground right in front of her and skidded its way to home plate. Pain shot through her forearm and elbow, taking her breath away. She gripped her arm and went down to her knees, gasping for air. She didn’t stay down for long, in fear that someone would discover her. She shoved herself up and off the ground. With angry tears in her eyes, she retrieved the ball and banged it back into the cart. She grabbed her bag and stomped her way down the steps and into the dugout.

  She sat down on the bench, the rough wood poking her through her shorts. She rubbed away the pain in her arm, until it turned to tingling. She opened and closed her fist, working to get feeling back. Two tears trickled down from her eyes. As she wiped them away with the back of her left hand, she heard someone clear his throat. She turned toward the entrance to the dugout and saw her coach, Ben Sullivan.

  Caroline sat up and blinked any remaining tears away as Coach Sullivan came and sat near her on the bench. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and just sat there staring out at the field. Caroline waited, pulling at a string on her shirt.

  “How badly did you just hurt yourself?” He gave her a sideways glance.

  “You saw.” Caroline sighed.

  “Yeah, I did. You okay?”

  Caroline wiggled her fingers. “Yeah, I am.”

  Coach Sullivan studied her with kind brown eyes. “Did I ever tell you why I never played baseball beyond college?”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “It’s not a long story. It comes down to the fact that I’m shorter than your average athlete, you could use an hourglass to time me running the bases, and no major league team wanted me. Simple stuff.” He shrugged his shoulders, a slight grin on his face.

  “Coach…”

  “Hang on, let me finish.” He looked over at her, kindness in his eyes. “I was devastated
, angry at God, didn’t think it was fair at all. The life I had planned for myself no longer made sense. But you know what?”

  “What?” Caroline crossed her arms.

  “The sun came up the next day. And the next. And the next. Life went on. Eventually, I had to decide to, too. It didn’t come easily, and it didn’t come immediately. All I’m trying to say is one day, something will make sense again. God has a better plan than any of us ever could.”

  “I’m not so sure,” she muttered.

  “That’s okay, you don’t have to be sure right now.” Coach Sullivan slapped the bench and stood up. “Looks like the other girls are showing up. Come shag for me for the fielding drills.”

  “Yes, sir.” Caroline made herself stand as the girls came flooding into the dugout. They all started squealing her name and hugging her as they came in. She faked a smile through it all.

  Caroline started to climb up the steps from the dugout and on to the field, but the pitching coach, Tara Morris, stopped her.

  “Caroline, can you come here a second?” Tara called from the bullpen.

  Caroline looked up and saw the pitchers and catchers setting up for their drills. Coach Tara was waving her toward them. She sighed and headed that way.

  “Caroline, it’s good to see you.” Her coach gave her a hug. “How are you doing?”

  “Good.” Caroline smiled to cover her fib.

  “Good.” Coach Tara smiled back. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Our freshman pitcher. Sarah?”

  A tall brunette with a long, curly ponytail turned and looked up from her bat bag. A huge smile lit up her hazel eyes as she hurried toward Caroline.

  “Sarah Hansen, this is—” Coach Tara started.

  “Caroline Davis.” Sarah interrupted. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m meeting you!” The girl squealed as she shook Caroline’s hand.

  Caroline tried to hide her shock at the sudden outburst. “Nice to meet you too, Sarah,” she mumbled.

  “I am such a fan. I’ve watched every single game you threw last year, probably twice. I have them all recorded. I just really admire you, and I can’t believe I’m here meeting you!” Sarah paused to take a short breath, and a more serious look crossed her face. “I’m so sorry about your arm though. I can’t even imagine what it must be like.”

  Caroline saw pity in the freshman’s eyes and spoke up to turn the conversation away from her. “That’s alright.” Caroline took a step away from Sarah. “Things happen. It just means you have some pretty big shoes to fill, right?”

  Sarah’s excitement returned. “Yes, yes, I do. And I’m ready to work as hard as ever.”

  “Alright, Sarah, go ahead and get warmed up and we’ll start today’s workout.” Coach Tara pointed toward a target that had been set up.

  “Yes ma’am!” She turned back to her bag and pulled out her glove and her shoes. Caroline bit her lip to hide the emotions she was fighting.

  “Caroline, I’m sorry.” Coach Tara touched her on the arm. “I didn’t know she’d go there.”

  “It’s fine.” Caroline jerked her arm away. “I need to go shag for Coach Sullivan.”

  “Alright, well if you finish with that, I’d love your help over here.”

  “We’ll see.” She walked away and headed back toward the field.

  If there was one thing Caroline hated in life, it was being pitied. She had dealt with it before, and here she was again. She walked to home plate, where a glove was waiting for her next to the coach’s bat and the buckets of balls. She pushed her left hand into the leather and paused as she felt the old rush of adrenaline. She pulled the glove to her nose, closed her eyes, and inhaled the sweet, salty scent.

  Maybe it was the pity she had seen in Sarah’s eyes, or the class she had endured at the farm earlier that day, but the smell of the leather glove didn’t remind her of the game or of her time on the mound. The scent brought back a different memory from an earlier life, a life that had ended five years ago.

  §

  Fourteen-year-old Caroline’s phone chirped on the nightstand next to her, interrupting her reading of the magazine she held in her hand. She flipped the cover shut and reached for it, cringing as her ribs reminded her not to move without thinking it through. It had been two months since the wreck, but her injuries were still healing.

  Mom, 10:03 AM: Hey honey, feel up to coming down to the barn for a little bit?

  Her breath caught in her throat as she read the message. She hadn’t been to the barn since she’d come home from the hospital earlier that week. The place where she used to spend more time than anywhere else had become the place she avoided.

  Caroline looked out of her bedroom window toward the barn. The September sun was glinting off the roof, holding on to the last heatwave of the Arizona desert’s summer. Despite the high temperatures, the parking area was full, with the usual Saturday morning busyness. A handful of people were on their horses heading out for a trail ride on the cross-country course in the back fields. Her mom was always swamped with lessons on the weekends, but she must have had a short break if she was asking Caroline to come down. She turned her attention back to the text message and sighed as she responded.

  10:05 AM: Sure, be right there

  She stood up from her bed, being careful not to hurt her ribs again or jostle her left wrist, which was still in a cast. She made it down the stairs one step at a time and managed to pull on her boots with one hand. She reached for the doorknob, fingering the cold metal, questioning if she had the emotional strength to go outside as her phone chirped again from her pocket.

  Mom, 10:09 AM :)

  The simple smiley from her mom was enough encouragement for her to open the door and step outside. She kept her eyes down on the ground as she shuffled her way to the barn, trying to go unseen so she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. She was tired of being asked how she was, or worse, being told how sorry they were for her.

  Caroline walked through the back entrance of the barn and paused. Her eyes needed a few seconds to adjust to the dim, dusty light. A few horses were chewing their hay as they looked out their stall doors at her. She walked past them, her gaze locking on the nameplate, Beaus and Ribbons, that was still hanging by the empty stall five doors down.

  The stall door was open, and she couldn’t help but stop in its threshold. Without much thought, her hand reached up and touched the wooden name. The stall had been stripped since he had been there, and fresh shavings covered the mats. His empty black water buckets hung by the empty hay net, mirroring how she felt.

  Her parents’ voices coming from the office tore her away from the stall. She followed the sound and found them on the computer.

  “Oh, Caroline, there you are. Come on in.” Holly Davis greeted her. “We found a couple of horses we want to show you.”

  Caroline slinked into the office and felt the blood draining from her face. Her dad stood and offered her his chair. She lowered herself into it without moving her upper body. Her dad put his hand on her good arm to steady her.

  “There are dozens out there right now.” Her mom grinned and pointed at the screen. “But we thought we’d start with these three, if you like them as much as we do.”

  Caroline nodded and went through the motions of studying each horse. Her mom talked her through the ads for two mares and a gelding, all three of them with experience at the highest level of eventing. They were all remarkable, and all beautiful, but all she could picture was Beau, and that final jump. Her heart rate kept climbing and the back of her neck grew cold with sweat as she remembered.

  “What do you think, sweetie?” Her dad squeezed her shoulder. “Wanna go see a couple of these guys?”

  Panic rose to her throat and forced her to gasp for air. Tears spilled over her face. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I just can’t.” She got up and fled from the office, her ribs and wrist burning as she went.

  “Caroline, wait…” she heard her parents calling after her, but she didn’t stop. She was headi
ng for the back entrance but saw a couple of people standing in the aisle. She ducked into the tack room and ended up in the back corner, where no one could see or hear her.

  She worked to get air into her lungs and her tears dried up. The pain from her quick movements dissolved with every breath. She stood there, looking at the bridles hanging in front of her. The sweet leather scent filled her nose, calling to her to touch the reins dangling within reach. Her fingers closed around them, muscle memory taking over as her wrists turned so her thumbs sat on top of her hands. Proper position would be engrained in her mind forever.

  “I can’t believe it. Do you really think it’s true?” A hushed voice came from the front part of the tack room. Caroline recognized Abby’s voice, one of her closest friends.

  “I do.” Another girl, Katy, responded. “Think about it. She’s been home for a week, and no one has seen her.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s quitting.” Abby placed her saddle on the rack. “If you had been through what she has been through, don’t you think you’d avoid this place for a while too?”

  “Maybe. But not if I was as talented as her. Accidents happen, it’s part of the sport. Then you gotta move past it.” Katy crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I guess you’re right.” Abby shrugged, defeated. “It’s a shame though. I feel so bad for her. It’s like she’s lost everything.”

  Caroline couldn’t hear Katy’s response as their footsteps down the barn aisle drowned out their voices. She waited a few minutes to make sure they were gone before she snuck out of the barn and back to the house.

  Back in her room, she stared at the pictures, the ribbons, and the trophies that surrounded her on the walls and shelves in her room. Even her closest friends pitied her and were talking about her. But Katy had been right. It was time to move past it.

  She found a couple of boxes in the hall closet and went to work, taking down every picture, every ribbon, and every trophy, shoving them to the back of her closet where she wouldn’t have to look at them.