Kara did not always attend Craig's games, but there was no way she was missing her son's first. She watched from the bleachers, camera ready, as he stepped up to bat for the first time. He had sat quite contentedly on the bench through the first three innings, just glad to be on the team, until Craig had called him to bat. Now he stood at the plate with two outs in the fourth. A look of intense concentration filled his features as he took a practice swing, carefully set his feet, and positioned his left elbow the way Craig had shown him last night.
"Mrs. Fleming?" a young man's voice spoke to her right. She turned and found the custodian they had met at the school standing alone beside the bleachers. "Eddie," he introduced himself. "We met at the school."
"Yes, I remember. Good to see you again," she replied. Together they watched as the first pitch to Zach sailed high—ball one. Kara yelled encouragement to Zach and then glanced to the young man again. "Do you have family in the game?"
"Zach invited me, actually," he answered. "He saw me at school today and asked if I could come see his first game. He seemed excited about it, so I thought I'd check it out. I hope you don't mind." Eddie graciously pointed her attention back to the field just in time for her to snap a picture of Zach swinging at a low pitch and missing badly.
"That's nice of you, Eddie," she said. "Zach really seems to like you."
He grinned. "Yeah, he's fun. I try to give him a little attention now and then."
The pitcher released another throw; this one was right down the middle. Zach swung with all his might, but too late. Strike two.
"Want to sit down?" Kara invited.
Eddie accepted her invitation and climbed into the bleachers to sit next to her.
"How long have you known Zach?" she inquired.
"Since kindergarten. We actually came to Briar Point at the same time. We have a sort of bond that way."
The next pitch sailed over Zach's head—too high to hit him, but he ducked down sharply anyway. He took an extra moment to reset his feet in the batter's box. Two balls, two strikes.
"How's he doing, being with you and your husband?" Eddie asked.
"We're still adjusting, but it's going well," she said. "Does he talk about it at school?"
"He loves it," Eddie told her. "He used to say school was the best time of his day. Now he can't wait to go home." The young man paused awkwardly. "Thanks for…you know, being there for him. Being his family, I guess. Dumb thing to say."
The pitcher wound up and threw a ball low and inside. Zach tried to spin away, but it struck him hard just below the right knee and he crumpled to the ground with a yelp. For a moment he rolled back and forth, holding his leg with both hands. Craig knelt over the boy in an instant, and Kara was surprised to find herself suddenly against the chain-link backstop, gripping it tightly as she peered through it. Tears striped Zach's face—he was hurt. She had to force herself to stay where she was and let Craig take care of him.
Zach rolled over into a sitting position, and Craig pulled up his pant leg and examined the injury. "I'm okay, Dad," Zach sputtered, wiping the tears off his cheeks with the back of one hand.
"I don't think so, pal," Craig replied. "That ball hit you really hard."
"Don't take me out, Dad!" the boy begged, his eyes pleading with Craig—pleading with his dad. "It's my first game. I want to play!"
Craig hesitated. "Er…okay. If you can jog to first base without limping, you can stay in."
Zach clambered to his feet, cautiously put some weight on his knee, and, wincing, jogged to first with only the faintest hitch in his step.
"All right," Craig said to himself, shaking his head. Noticing Kara behind the backstop, he shrugged, palms up, and returned to his place in the third base coach's box. Zach stood with his left foot on the base, his right foot lifted a couple of inches off the ground to rest the sore knee.
Kara returned to her seat in the bleachers, next to Eddie. They watched together as the next batter struck out on four pitches, stranding Zach at first base—which, in Kara's view, was fine; she didn't want him to test that knee running to second. Zach limped to the dugout, fetched his glove, and limped out to his position in right field. Thankfully, the other team didn't hit any balls his way.
In the sixth inning he came up to bat again, and while Kara silently praised him for bravely stepping up to the plate once more, she prayed that he wouldn't get hit again. He struck out looking this time, backing away as the third strike crossed the inside corner of home plate. Their team was ahead, though, and after taking the field once more, they walked off as victors.
Eddie and Kara met Zach at the bottom of the bleachers as the teams dispersed. "You looked good out there, little tyke," Eddie said as he approached.
"You came!" Zach replied.
"Saw the whole game. Even the part where, you know…" With a sympathetic grimace he gestured toward Zach's knee.
"I'm okay. We won!" Zach said—but Kara could see that he was still favoring that leg.
"Let me see it, Zach," Kara ordered.
He rolled his eyes. "Now, Mom?" At her nod, though, he sat obediently on the lowest bench of bleachers and, with a wince, let her pull up his pant leg.
"Oh, Zach, that's really got to hurt," Kara groaned. It wasn't broken, but there was a little swelling where a purple, baseball-sized circle marked the point of impact just below the kneecap, thankfully on muscle and not on bone.
"Mom, can we do this later?" Zach implored. She touched the purple spot lightly. "Ouch! Mom, please?"
"We need to get some ice on that, Zach," she said. But he wasn't paying attention to his leg; he was looking around at the other boys, some of whom stood at a respectful distance, watching her examine him. "Oh. This is one of those boy things, isn't it?"
He met her eyes in response. Kara sighed and tapped the bill of his cap down over his nose. "Okay, kiddo. Go say goodbye to your team. I'll be a mom later."
"Hey, Mom?" he asked, pulling his pant leg back down and readjusting his cap.
"Yeah?"
"Did you see I got on base in my first at-bat?"
He was so earnest that Kara couldn't help but grin at him. "Yes, you did. I saw it." Here she was, worried about his injury, about him being afraid to go to bat again; to him the wound was merely the price of getting to play in the game. He hobbled off to talk with his teammates. Boys.
*****
The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain Page 45