The change was incredible, making me feel guilty as hell for the lie. I had a backup plan in case Jenny didn’t get a hit, involving another lie that Dev didn’t complete the spell due to the rings of Pluto not being aligned. Jenny pumped her fist, staring up into the sky for a moment before meeting my probably guilty gaze.
“I got this, John. I got the Latin now! God bless, Dev!”
Off she went to the plate, all business, and ready for war. I returned to the dugout, enduring the accusing stares of my assistants. Clint smiled.
Clint grasped my arm with comical seriousness. “What have you done, DL?”
“Last half of the last inning, DL. What have you done, Cheese? I detect a ripple in the force,” Lynn added. “We’re tied five to five. Did you tell Jen not to swing and see if she can get on base with a walk? The other girls will get a chance to see some of the reliever’s pitches that way.”
“Not exactly.” I went for the whole tamale. I needed Jen to believe. She needed a charm, like an old sweaty lucky sock or something. I’d talk to Dev later. I’d also need to iron out an extenuating circumstances explanation, so if this worked, the other girls wouldn’t be expecting miracles.
Lynn grabbed my ear, shaking it and my head. “Cheese?”
“Watch and learn from the Dark Lord, oh ye of little faith.”
The Giants’ reliever nodded at her catcher with a big smile. It was plain they both had filed away the memory of Jenny’s three strike outs so far at the plate. The pitch streaked across the plate at super speed, and exited the ballpark with bat propelled multiplication over the right field fence, the first actual homerun I had witnessed in our league since we joined. Our stunned silence turned into loud jubilance as Jenny ran the bases with a solemn, measured stride, drinking in the cheers from her dugout and stands. She did, however, slap hands with Casey, coaching third, before putting one flap down while styling on the last part of her homerun journey. We all met her there. It was softball girls gone wild for a few moments. Lynn and Clint, of course, tried to stare me down into immediate capitulation to the facts. I waved them off happily.
“Dev brought the Latin for me!” Jenny leaped onto home plate, fists pumping and feet dancing. The girls engulfed her for a victory dance as the Giants walked off in forlorn defeat. It’s a lesson lacking in today’s politically correct montage of madness. Kids need to learn both victory and defeat before later life, not during it.
“You dog!” Lynn poked me repeatedly with finger in chest as we backed away from the celebrating girls. “You told Jen that Dev did a hit spell for her? Oh my… that is just so wrong on so many levels. You’re grounded. I’m sending you to the penalty box.”
“Excuse me? Is this the same Lynn who cut Himura’s throat while he bowed?”
At the mention of Yakuza, Ryuu Himura’s death,rem while bowing before his knife fight with Lynn, she had to snort back a quick reply as my adlib drew major amusement. “Okay… good one. You do understand every girl on the team will be demanding a Dev Latin spell before batting or fielding, right?”
“I’ll handle it. Dev will know what to do.” In the glow of triumph’s aftermath, I called the Latin King. He listened patiently before losing all control. It took ten full minutes to get him down off the plateau of having regaled Maria on what I had done, followed by howling yips of enjoyment at my predicament. My eavesdropping assistants joined him.
“I…I don’t know what to say, brother. You’ve made my entire weekend. Maria and I will be enjoying this Dark Lord tidbit for months to come. We’re coming tonight, no matter where Nick’s entertaining. I’ll try and think of something before then.”
“Dev! We’re going to get pizza right after the final handshakes. I need you. When you walk in, get ready for girls on their knees praying to the Devon Constantine Latin God.”
Another long moment of amusement passed before Dev could speak. “We’ll be there. Jenny actually hit a homerun over the right field fence at the mere mention of the Latin, huh? Yep. I need to be there for pizza with you all. See you in a bit.”
“Thanks, brother.”
My cohorts appreciated the Dev solution with forlorn headshakes and pats on the shoulder. I shrugged. “Dev will think of something. I better have a word with Jen.”
“We’ll go with you,” Clint said. “I don’t want to miss a moment of this dugout miracle.”
I felt a little relieved as I hugged Jenny near her jubilant teammates. “Remember, Jen. Not just a spell hit that pitch out of the park. That was you, kid. You swung the bat. You powered it over the fence. The Latin may have nudged you slightly, but no one, but you, hit the ball out of the park.”
Jenny shrugged. “I know. Doesn’t it feel wonderful to believe in magic, John?”
“Yep. Sometimes, it does. Remember something else the Latin didn’t do for you – the way you played shortstop looked like all-star team material to me. You robbed the Giants of at least two runs with your glove. That is like hitting two homeruns.”
Jenny’s face brightened even more. “Yeah… I need to tell my dad that one. He’s worked with me on defense constantly with mom blasting grounders at me.”
“Now you’re reaching into reality, girl - practice, dedication, and your folks.”
Jenny hugged me around the neck again. “Will Dev be at the pizza place?”
“I just talked to him. The Latin King will be there.”
“That’s great! Thanks, John!”
“It’s your day, Jen. Enjoy the moment in the sun. Those moments come few and far between.”
The ten-year-old shrugged. “Yeah… I’ve noticed.”
I watched her enjoying the sun’s rays, quietly soaking it in myself. Al joined me. “Hey Al, great game.”
“I’m hearing you put the mojo on Jenny. I got a single, a strike out, and two foul popups… and you didn’t think to give me, your daughter, the mojo?”
Al nailed me right to the core. I looked at her expectant face of childhood betrayal without a clue. Her lip tremor was the first glimpse she punked me. One glance at the perpetrator of the deed waiting ten feet away with full on humor bending her at the waist, and I knew I had found the instigator. Al danced around and pirouetted at my expense before hugging me tightly.
“Mom got you. I’m just glad you found a way to give Jen a lift. That was awesome. We’re going to have a great night, Dad.”
“Yeah, we will. It’s too bad we’re not going to Nick’s place for entertainment. It appears the party will be going to a bar nearby for adults only.”
“That’s okay. Jean, Sonny, and I will be trading stories and skills. Amara will be watching all us kids in Lynn and Clint’s bunker with Tonto, Naji, and Deke guarding. With all the babies playing around together, this will be a party for us. Everyone wants a Guardians of the Galaxy fest too. Can I take our Blu-Ray discs to play?”
“Sure. Hearing you describe a ‘Guardians’ viewing night makes me wish I could stay there with you.”
Al giggled. “All the adults feel that way. Uh oh, Dad. Here comes a big dark giant. Do you want me to kick his ass?”
“Watch…watch your mouth, young lady,” I replied, while trying not to lose all sense of adult dignity over that ace. “Go commune with your teammates. We’ll adjourn for pizza soon.”
“Okay, Dad.” Al gripped my arm. “I love you.”
Good Lord, Al caught me off guard with that one. I sucked it in like the poser I am at intimate times. “I love you too, kid. Never forget that.”
“I won’t.” She ran off with the big dark giant bearing down on me. I gave Lora the fickle finger of fate gesture, a silent warning of payback soon to be visited upon her. She looked around before making an inappropriate sexually explicit gesture before following Al.
I turned to face the giant. It appeared he planned to run me over. I didn’t move. He stopped inches from me. We were not eyeball to eyeball.
“John Harding?”
I waved a hand, while continuing to look at his neck. “Down here.”
“I am Tolo Whitt, the ‘Black Death’.”
“Congratulations. You must be very proud.”
“It is not wise to disrespect me, little man.”
I stayed where I was, grinning at his neck. “I heard you say you’re Tolo Whitt, after you charged into my airspace. Big whoop. This is a kids’ softball game. Pick somewhere else to meet. We’ll be at the Mojo Lounge tonight in Fremont. I’ll discuss whatever you want with my manager present. For now. Get out of my face.”
Tolo tensed. I began picking spots to cripple him. Then I heard it. It wasn’t Latin, but it was just as effective. Strains of the Bobby Bloom song ‘Montego Bay’ pierced the violent reverie between me and ‘Black Death’. He backed away, looking around. The sight and sound stunned Tolo and his entourage. Nick and Jess did a calypso dance rhythm in perfect sync to Nick’s handclapping energetic rendition of the song with gathering kids and parents. In seconds, we had a dance off. Giants players and parents mixed to add their handclapping beat.
Nick had them all without any music other than his voice and the handclapping beat. The moment he finished ‘Montego Bay’, he launched into ‘The Banana Boat Song’ in a duo with Jess. Oh my… Nick owned the park. Nick and Jess doing the Day-O lyrics with swaying calypso beat enticed the entire crowd into joining in. Tolo didn’t know what to do. Even his entourage was getting into the beat. Nick and Jess ended with a flourish. The applause, cheers, and whistles went on for a long moment. Jafar joined me with his iPad out, finishing the video.
“I played the whole thing live for Dev. He was going nuts. He told me this is the last game he ever misses.”
“Thanks for thinking of doing it. I bet he got-”
“We are not finished,” Tolo told me. “I will meet you at this Mojo Lounge at 7 pm.”
“I’ll be there. Bring your manager, in case we do discuss business, instead of cheap threats.”
Tolo wanted a piece, but had enough sense to walk away. The crowd dispersed slowly as the next scheduled game would be starting in another fifteen minutes. My A’s and Giants shook hands, as did the parents and other onlookers. Nick’s music put the entire game in second place. We joined the rhythm duo amidst our happy group of kids and adults.
“You guys were incredible. I don’t think anything else could have gotten Tolo’s neck out of my face. I have a meeting with him at Mojo Lounge at 7 pm. Let’s all meet there a bit earlier at 6 pm. I’ll call ahead for reservations and warn them we have a large crew.”
“I’ll take care of that, John,” Jafar said. “I’ll get the limos to take our crew in style too. Since all the kids will be at Clint’s house, why don’t we meet there?”
“Good input,” I agreed. “Thanks for doing it for me. Lora always claims I mess things up when I make reservations. For now, we have kids awaiting pizza. Dev will be joining us to bail me out of my small fabrication. It won’t be as entertaining as Nick and Jess doing the postgame show, but I’ll bet it will be good.”
* * *
After a rousing welcome from everyone, Dev did a remarkable talk about individual preparedness and confidence. After skirting the entire issue of his spell supposedly giving Jenny the power to hit a homerun, Dev reminded everyone about practice building belief and assuredness in play. The Latin King was golden. At the table with the Monsters, Monster dependents and friends, he drained a beer before engaging with us.
“We need to run Dev for mayor and dump that liberal snowflake woman running the Blue into the ground,” Jess stated.
“Now wait a minute.” Dev gestured for calmness as the Monsters all cast their votes in favor of Mayor Devon Constantine. “Apparently, only a few of you know my checkered past. DL and I ended up in the tank a couple nights together. I love what I’m doing and I will never be a politician. Jess has a good idea though. We need to run a decent candidate. We should run Jess’s Mom. Flo would make a terrific mayor.”
“Oh man, Dev, I think you nailed it,” Lucas said. “Flo would be perfect. She keeps up on everything political, runs her neighborhood watch, and everyone respects her. I think you should take the idea to her right away, Jess. She’ll have the money backing and all the campaign workers she needs.”
Jess nodded in agreement. “I’ll go over her house right after we get through here.”
“We can use my office for a campaign headquarters,” I volunteered. “We’ll make this happen. Oakland hasn’t had a decent mayor in decades. Dev can write her speeches.”
“No… he can’t,” Dev replied. “I had to beg Maria to help me with my speech just now.”
“My mom can speak to any subject in a heartbeat,” Jess added. “If I convince her to run, we won’t need to worry about giving her something to say. We may need Nick to fly here once in a while and entertain at a rally though.”
“Count on it,” Nick agreed. “If I do ‘Hammer’ with you and Dev at a rally, your mom will be crowned mayor.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Jess said. “We need to work that tonight. DL… don’t be rippin’ no throats or hearts at the bar, brother.”
“No way do I spoil this show tonight. If Jess convinces Flo to run, we should start that ball rolling tonight. Achmed? Can you hunt down a poster place and get something going?”
“Sure. If Jess can send me a good photo of Flo, with a few of her hard-edged lines, I can get some made for tonight, along with flyers.”
“You the best,” Jess replied. “I’ll take a great picture of her today, along with some lines for the poster. She’ll love it.”
“It’s settled then. We start the Florence Brown campaign for mayor tonight,” I said. “Now, since it’s only us Monsters over here, I want to hear about the Muerto saving of Santa Rosalia. Great video.”
“I was ordered to stop the destruction of Monterey’s Santa Rosalia statue. In reality, I was told if I didn’t stop it, I’d be sleeping alone for a long time,” Nick replied.
“I… well… okay, maybe I did say that,” Rachel admitted to much amusement. She leaned forward with a whispered addition. “Muerto used Jean and Sonny twice in combat mode, once with knives, and once with a rifle.”
Nick gestured at the softball players and friends table. “See… they’re just normal kids when around kids. The mutants train theirs to kill us. At some point, our kids will need to meet them in combat for our nation. I think maybe we need to move on that fact soon. Sonny and Jean can handle anything.”
Rachel jiggled the sleeping Quinn in her arms. “They’re planning on training Quinn from the time he can walk.”
Lynn enjoyed that word picture the most. “Oh my… Quinn and Clint Jr. will be in very similar programs.”
* * *
Jafar joined us at our section, covering nearly a third of the Mojo Lounge. “The owner stopped by personally. He called in a couple extra people and he’ll only allow so many into the place tonight, depending on space. ‘The joint is yours’, his words. He gave the people tagged to play tonight a break. I did my research. Seven grand made his mouth water, especially since we’re allowing others in to fill the place.”
“Excellently done, little brother. Any other parameters to meet?”
“The owner thinks Nick may need to go play a bit to test out the tuning.”
“I’ll go do ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ and follow it with ‘Brandy’ for the test phase.”
“Do Brandy first before anyone gets here,” Lucas instructed, taking Sarah’s hand. “C’mon, honey, let’s dance to this one.”
“I do like that song,” Sarah admitted, allowing Lucas to pull her towards the dance floor. They were not alone.
Nick played a long prelude with all the right notes before launching into the song, listening intently for any note out of tune. His singing rendition slowed the re
gular version of ‘Brandy’, allowing a sweet, toned down dancing interlude for Lucas, without ruining the song in the slightest. His powerful, fist pumping ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ mesmerized his audience. He extended the intense chorus, bonding with the house piano. By the time it ended, no one in the restaurant bar looked anywhere else but at Nick.
Nick spotted the arrival of Tolo Whitt with entourage, swinging right into ‘The Banana Boat’ song. Jess and his wife, Rochelle, carried the calypso beat with Dev and Maria joining them. The others began crowding the dance floor, following the original couples’ dance patterns. Alexi and Marla moved to a two-table meeting venue near the wall. When John gestured Tolo and his entourage to the table, Marla made a swift exit. Tommy sat near Alexi. I brought a Bud brother with me for refreshment. Nick took a break after he finished the song, promising to begin again once the fight discussion ended.
“Anyone else like something to drink?”
“No. Let us begin,” Tolo ordered. “This is my manager, Pierre Carone.”
I held out my hand to him. “I’m John Harding. My managers are Alexi Fiialkov and Tommy Sands.”
I smiled and pulled my hand back when it was ignored. “Okay… that’s enough of the niceties. If you can’t be polite, get the hell to the point, and then get the hell out of the bar.”
Tolo pointed at me. “You are very lucky we are in the bar.”
“Do not provoke this man,” Alexi warned. “You have posers with you. John has brothers and sisters here, so dangerous, men who know them get down on their knees with palms in the air when they pass on the street. Say what it is you want. Let us conduct business quickly and painlessly.”
“The Rattler has publicly said he will not fight you because you saved his life,” Carone stated. “Carl Logan will be in rehab for another two months because of that cheap shot you did to him, Harding. Darius, the so-called Destroyer, won’t even discuss anything to do with you. That puts ‘Black Death’ next in line for the UFC title. We will accept a fifty/fifty split in a title match at the MGM Grand.”
Tommy began laughing with Alexi chortling along with him. Tommy gestured at Pierre. “You…you’re a funny man. Come back with UFC permission for the fight to take place, along with the MGM Grand agreement to host it. Then, make it a sixty-five/thirty-five split, and we’ll consider the offer.”
Cold Blooded Assassin Book 8: Rule of Nightmare (Nick McCarty Assassin) Page 28