by Adam Hughes
CHAPTER TEN
Working Man
“Look, Dan,” David addressed his son after the shock of seeing him awake had started to subside that first afternoon. “I’m very proud of you for wanting to work and be productive. It’s a testament to your character that you have such a level head even when life is so topsy-turvy, but there is no need to rush.”
“I guess so, Dad,” Dan said.
David went on: “Mr. Jordan and I both have good jobs, and, between the two of us, we’re doing fine taking care of Gabbie and Troy.”
“And they’re taking care of me, too,” Dan thought to himself. To David, he said, “I know. I just need to contribute … I have to do something.”
Dan wanted to play baseball, of course, but without a scholarship and little interest from the scouts a whole year before, that was nothing but a pipe dream by the early spring of 1974. No, what Dan needed was a real job that would pay him real money so he could support Troy and Gabbie and hopefully move out of his parents’ house sooner rather than later.
“I’ve already lost an entire year of my life, and I don’t want to sit around waiting or wondering what the future might bring,” Dan concluded
The conversation had begun just a few minutes after David came rushing home from work that Monday, and the topic came up again at dinner and even a couple of times that evening when various friends from high school and other family members dropped by the Hodges’ home to welcome Dan back to the world of the living.
For the most part, though, David and Clara were able to divert their discussions toward other talking points until Gabbie and Troy left for the Jordan’s house around 9 o’clock that night.
“Are you sure you have to go?” Dan asked her, not sure where their relationship stood and uneasy about saying goodbye again so soon.
Gabbie nodded. “I can see you’re exhausted, Dan, and Troy has had a long day, too. I need to get him home, bathe him, and get him in his crib. There’s no place for us to sleep here and, besides, I have school in the morning.”
They were walking down the sidewalk toward Gabbie’s car, and Dan stopped when they reached the driver’s side door. He hugged Gabbie and kissed his sleeping son on the top of his head.
“OK,” he said. “But we’re going to have to figure this out soon. I don’t like telling you goodnight and having you leave … especially when you’re taking my son with you.”
“I know, Dan,” she said, putting a hand to his face. “It’s all going to be OK. We’ll come see you again tomorrow, OK?”
Dan nodded, but her words stung and made him feel like an invalid and a burden. Why should his girlfriend and son have to “come see” him like he was an old man in a nursing home?
Gabbie climbed in the car, pulled the door shut, and spent a few moments situating Troy in the seat beside her before starting the engine. She waved to him as she turned onto Deer Run Road and disappeared, and Dan stood watching the vacant corner for a couple of minutes before heading back inside.
It was clear to David when Dan walked through the front door with an almost frantic expression and fidgeting with his jacket zipper that there was something on the boy’s mind.
“Dad,” the boy said, grabbing David by the elbow, “I need to talk to you … alone.”
Dan shot a look at his mother.
“Oh,” she said, startled. “I, uh, need to do some, uh, laundry.”
She had been waiting alongside her husband for Dan, but now she turned and took a couple of strides toward the back of the house.
“No, Mom, stay,” Dan said. Then, turning back to David, “Let’s take a walk outside, Dad.”
—
The two men strolled around their block four times that evening, talking about all that had happened in the last nine months and the uncertainty of the future. Most of their conversation, as it had been since Dan was a Little Leaguer, was couched in baseball terms and, in particular, the fortunes of the Cincinnati Reds.
“Do you think the Reds can win the World Series this year, Dad?” Dan asked at one point.
“Well, if the New York Mets can make it to the Series with the team they fielded last year,” David answered, “just about anything is possible. The Dodgers are going to be tough, though.”
Dan was quiet for a minute, then asked, “What does the Reds’ lineup look like?”
David thought for moment before replying: “It’s pretty much the same as it has been the last few seasons. Bench, Concepcion, Morgan, Perez. I think Morgan is really a great little ballplayer, Dan.”
Dan nodded. “What about Pete Rose? He’s still there, isn’t he?”
“Oh, sure,” David said. “And guess who won the National League MVP award last season?”
“Rose?!” Dan was excited by that, because Rose was his favorite Red, and maybe his favorite player overall.
“Yep, he won the batting title, and that was enough to get him the trophy, even though the Reds tanked in the playoffs.”
“Well, that all sounds pretty good,” Dan said, “but they’re going to have a rough time if they can’t find someone to play third base.”
David was already shaking his head before Dan finished his sentence. “Nope, they have third base covered this year, Dan. Probably for the next 10 to 15 years, too.”
“What, did they move Pete back to the Hot Corner?” Dan asked.
“No way! He’s an All-Star left fielder, which means his best defensive days are behind him,” David said. “No, they have a young up-and-comer at third — Dan Driessen.”
“Dan Driessen!?” Dan reacted as if he had just been told a ghost would be in the Reds’ lineup. “I forgot all about him! I know he was supposed to be pretty good, but he doesn’t have any experience. What kind of season did he have last year?”
“Let’s see … he hit over .300, and I think he had about 50 RBI and maybe the same number of runs scored. He was pretty solid at third base, too,” David said.
“That sounds pretty good, but he’ll probably need better numbers in the minors before he can hope to make the Big League club as a starting third baseman.” Dan was deep into the baseball talk now and was more relaxed than David had seen him all day. “Was he playing at Indianapolis, or was he back in Double-A?”
“Oh, I think he may have spent some time in Indy,” David said, “but those numbers I mentioned are the ones he put up with the Reds. By the end of the year, he was much better than Denis Menke, and Menke is back in Houston this year. Driessen is definitely the Reds’ starting third baseman for 1974.”
Dan studied his father’s face to see if he was kidding, but decided David was serious.
“Wow,” Dan said. “So Dan Driessen won a Major League job — as a starting third baseman — and he’s what, just a couple of years older than me?”
David nodded, “Yep, something like that.” He could feel Dan’s tone shifting.
“And all it took was one shot. He made the best of it,” Dan said.
“Yep,” David agreed.
Dan stopped and looked at David. “That’s all I want, Dad,” he said. “I just need a shot at making my own life. Making a life for me and Gabbie … and Troy.”
David smiled at his son.
“Can you help me, Dad? Can you help me get my shot?”
David clasped Dan on the shoulder and said, “I think I can, son. I think I can.”
—
The local economy was driven by two major forces: Dunbar University, who employed about 500 people, and HBM, where another 1000 locals worked.
David had been with HBM for nearly 20 years, working his way up from the mail room to the assembly line to a foreman’s position. Five years ago, his boss in manufacturing had assumed leadership over a second division, handling account procurement for the growing mid-size business market. When that happened, he asked David to assume the position of assistant director, which meant a move from the warehouse to the office suite. The new job had come with more money but also new responsibili
ties that made David uneasy. He worked as hard as always, though, and by the time he had a year under his belt, he had proved himself to be a capable manager.
The company was doing well, and David’s division was thriving, so he didn’t have any qualms about asking his boss for a favor. Besides, Tom had told him right off the bat after Dan got injured that he would do anything he could to help the Hodges through their struggles. That had been a relief to David, who took advantage of the offer to adjust his work schedule in order to make it to some consultations with doctors but who otherwise went on — at work — as usual.
David was not surprised, then, that Tom cut him off on that Tuesday morning as he relayed the story of Dan’s awakening. Before he could even ask, Tom made the offer.
“Say, David,” Tom said. “It occurs to me, with Dan having been, um, out of commission for nearly a year, he probably didn’t have much of a chance to get his after-high school plans in order. So, I was wondering if he wouldn’t be interested in signing on with us for awhile … you know, just to get his feet wet and maybe make a little money. Of course, it wouldn’t be a lot of money, not to start. The only thing we have open right now is a position in the mail room. Do you think that would be OK?”
David nodded. It was perfect.