by Laney Smith
“We . . . we . . . Nathan . . . we just . . .” one of the boys stuttered.
“What are you doing with Nathan’s bat?”
“Well, he gave it to us,” one of the boys lied.
Ryan dropped his chin to his chest, looking at the boys from under his eyebrow ridge. He shook his head. “Don’t lie to me. Give me his bat and you guys need to get to your houses before I go visiting some parents.”
As Ryan talked to the four boys, three other boys came running around the corner of the house.
“You guys where ar . . .”
The other three boys locked up, skidding in the dirt as they slowed to a stop, once they saw Ryan. One kid dropped a fistful of rocks, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping open. All of the boys were trying to assess what would come next.
“What are you guys? Ten? Twelve? And you’re picking on a seven-year-old?”
One of the boys attempted to defend himself and his friends. “We didn’t do anything. We just . . .”
“You’re terrorizing him and you’re going to stop. If I see any of you anywhere near this house again, I’m going to talk to your dad.” He pointed to the boy that held Nathan’s bat. “Give me his bat.” The boy hesitantly handed the aluminum club over as his eyes scanned Ryan’s face.
“Are you the real Ryan Priest?” one of the boys asked.
Ryan glared at him.
“Nate said he’s friends with Ryan Priest. Are you the real Ryan Priest?”
Ryan pressed his lips together and his chin jerked toward his shoulder. “Do I look like the real Ryan Priest?”
“But, are you the baseball player, Ryan Priest? Or another Ryan Priest?”
“I’m not kidding you. If you mess with Nathan again, I’m going to talk to your dads. He’s smaller than you. Leave him alone. Do you understand?”
“Tell us the truth. Are you really him?” one of the other boys pressed. “Can you teach us some stuff?”
“Are you going to pick on my friend, again?” Ryan asked.
“No,” the boys answered, their timing a little off to be a chorus.
“I’m going to be watching. If you’re nice to my friend, maybe we’ll play a game, one of these days. I’ll be really mad if you’re mean to him, again. Don’t do it.”
“You’re going to play a game with us?” one of the boys confirmed. “Ryan Priest is going to play a game with us? No way!”
Nathan opened the front door of his home and stepped out onto the stoop. He raised his hand to wave at Ryan. Ryan strolled toward the boy, and sat at his feet on the step. He looked at the other boys and pointed his thumb over his shoulder.
“This is my best friend. Don’t mess with him,” Ryan warned.
“Yes, sir!” one of the boys happily agreed.
Ryan waved his finger through the air, dismissing the boys. “OK, go home. I’m going to be watching. If Nathan tells me you guys are being jerks, I’m going to be a jerk.”
“Will you take us for a ride in your Camaro?” one of the boys pushed.
Ryan shook his head. “No. Probably not. But, if you’ll behave yourself, I’ll play a game with you. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
“Take it,” the boys agreed.
“OK,” Ryan said with a sarcastic expression. “Go on. You’re free to go.”
As the boys started to scatter, Nathan rested his arm on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan glanced at the little appendage perched on his shoulder and turned his attention back to the boys. Nathan let out a wicked chuckle.
“I think they peed their pants.”
Ryan smirked as he looked up at the child’s face. “You think that’s funny?”
“Yes,” he answered with a shy shrug. “I guess so. They thought it was funny when they were knocking on the windows and scaring me.”
Ryan nodded his head. “Then, I guess it’s a good thing you called me.”
“Ryan, am I really your best friend?” the child asked as he sat beside Ryan, kicking his feet out in front of him.
“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, right?”
“OK. Because you’re my best friend, too,” Nathan said, resting his head on Ryan’s arm.
Ryan looked over at his little friend’s head on his arm as a smile pulled at the edges of his mouth. He and Nathan sat in shared silence for a few moments. Eventually, Nathan started driving his heel against the edge of the step.
“Hey, Ryan? You can come inside and play games. My mom won’t get mad.”
“We have to listen to your mom. She’s the boss.”
Nathan sighed and sat upright, placing his hands in his lap, wringing his fingers. “But, I don’t want you to go.”
“Did you see how fast I got here?”
“It’s still early in the day. My mom is going to be gone for a long time,” Nathan whined. “Please, Ryan? She won’t know.”
“I can’t do that. But, if you want to call your mom, I will talk to her and see if she would mind if you hang out with me, today.”
“She will be mad that I called you.”
“Nathan, we have to follow the rules. If we don’t, we get in trouble,” Ryan reasoned.
“I was following the rules.”
“Go call your mom and bring me the phone,” Ryan urged.
“She’s going to be mad.”
“I’ll let her be mad at me. Go call her.”
As Nathan stood to go inside, Ryan stood, plunging his hands in his pockets. He surveyed the neighborhood as he patiently waited. After a few minutes, Nathan came out of the house, pleading his case into the phone. Ryan shifted from one foot to the other as he listened to the boy ramble on. Then, Ryan held his hand out.
“Ask her if I can talk to her for just a minute.”
“Mom, Ryan really wants to talk to you. Please, will you just listen to him?”
Nathan handed the phone to Ryan. Ryan tousled Nathan’s hair and smiled. Then, he lifted his arm and pointed to the door.
“OK, now go inside. We have to follow the rules. Let me talk to your mom.”
Nathan smiled a wide smile and gave Ryan a thumbs up. Ryan chuckled as he rolled his eyes. He pointed his finger, motioning toward the door. Then, he held the phone up to his head.
“Hey, Corlay. This is Ryan Priest. How are you?”
“What the hell is he talking about? What are you doing there? Why are you . . . What kids came to my house?”
“Well, there was a brief misunderstanding, so Nathan called me to come help out. We got that worked out. Everything’s good. So, don’t worry. I know this seems weird, seeing as how you don’t know me. But, I have to be honest with you. I don’t think it’s a good idea for Nathan to be home, alone.”
“Don’t you think I know that? If I had another option, I would go for it. I don’t. I’m doing the best I can.”
“Hey, hey! I believe you. Actually, you do have another option,” Ryan sighed. “Uh, I could . . . sit with him.”
“What makes you a better option? I do not know you. Why are you so insistent on hanging out with my kid? Weirdos want to hang out with kids.”
“I understand your concerns, really I do. Truth is I don’t know. I’m not real sure why I feel I need to do something to help. But, I do. I know you don’t know me and all you have is my word. But, I’m not going to do anything to that kid. I want to keep someone else from doing something to him. He grew on me, or something. I can’t explain it. I just feel like this is what I need to do.”
Corlay sighed into the phone. “How do I know . . . Ugh! . . . This is so unfair.”
Ryan chuckled. “I just want to help.”
“I don’t know you,” she whined.
“You know what? I don’t know you either. You could bring a lot of trouble for me, too. I’m trusting you, right?”
“Your reputation hardly compares to my child’s life.”
“I’ve had the opportunity, if I were a lunatic. You can look me up on the Internet. P-r-i-e-s-t. Go ahead.”
“Yeah! OK. H
old on,” she accepted. “OK, how do you spell your name?”
“R-y-a-n, Ryan. P-r-i-e-s-t, Priest. Ryan Priest.”
It only took a few seconds. After a moment of silence, Corlay laughed into the phone. “Yeah, right! You do realize the name your throwing out belongs to a professional baseball player, right?”
“Oh, yes! I’m well aware of who that name belongs to.”
“You expect me to believe that a baseball player wants to babysit my son? You’re nuts. What is your real name?”
“Ryan Priest.”
“No, I want the truth. What is your name? What is your birthdate?” Corlay asked.
“My name is Ryan Priest. My date of birth is December second, nineteen-eighty-one.”
“Anyone could get this guy’s date of birth.”
“I can send you pictures . . . selfies or whatever. I’ll send you a picture of my driver’s license. I can send you the plate on my car. I’m telling you the truth.”
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“If something happens to Nathan, do you realize how much guilt I would have? I’m not leaving him unattended, Corlay. I can call the police to sit with him, if you’re not comfortable with me doing it. But, I’m not leaving him here alone.”
“This is the very thing I was trying to avoid. I’m a single mother. I can only make a dollar go so far. I pay these younger girls and they just quit showing up. I can’t afford daycare. I can only afford the damned, unreliable kids. What do you expect me to do? His daddy took off, chasing some other woman. Don’t you think I would do this differently if I had the choice? Now, you’re threatening me with the police?”
Ryan smiled. “You can calm down. I’m not calling the police, because you’re not going to put me in that position. I’ll take him out to run errands with me. We’ll have some lunch – real lunch. I don’t need your money. All I want from you is for you to trust me.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“I can’t either,” Ryan scoffed. “You know the situation. I am the solution.”
“A professional baseball player? This is just too much. He loves baseball. This is a little too convenient. You’ll send me pictures?” Corlay verbalized her random thoughts.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ryan Priest?”
“That’s what my birth certificate says.”
“Why would a professional athlete want to watch my child?”
“I’m not a professional athlete, anymore. I’m retired.”
“Well, it lists you here as ‘injured’ status.”
“I snapped my right clavicle in half.”
“You’ll send me pictures?” she asked again.
“Sure. What would you like pictures of?” he asked with a hint of flirtation in his voice.
“Oh, don’t get carried away.”
“That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think? I’m waiting on you to tell me what you want to see.”
“Ugh! I don’t know. This is ridiculous.”
“Get off the phone, do your job and don’t worry about Nathan. I got him.”
Corlay sighed. “If he comes back with as much as a new split end on any hair on his head, I will kill you.”
“I have no worries. He’s going to be just fine.”
“I mean it, Ryan. I don’t care who you are. It will be a long, drawn out, painful, brutal death.”
Ryan chuckled. “He’ll have a blast. Trust me.”
“Fine! But, I want to see your driver’s license, your license plate, your taxes for the past fif-teen years . . . Dear God, please don’t let this man be crazy.”
“I’m not sending you my taxes. You’ll see. Go do your thing. Check your phone. We’ll send you pictures of all the fun we’ll be having.”
“This is stressing me out.”
“Just say thank you, Ryan and leave us alone.”
“Thank y . . . Gah! Thank . . . you,” she nervously grumbled.
“You’re welcome,” he cheerfully responded. “Gotta go. We’re busy guys.”
Corlay hung up the phone and buried her head in her hands. “What’ve I done? What have I done?”
~ELEVEN~
After Ryan hung up the phone from the conversation with Corlay, he rapped on the door with his knuckle. When Nathan opened it, Ryan handed him the phone. As the boy went to return the phone to the cradle, Ryan stepped just inside the door.
“Get your shoes on. We’ve got things to do.”
“She said yes?”
Ryan nodded his head. “Yep!”
Nathan excitedly scrambled around, looking for his socks and shoes. Ryan surveyed the modest home. He quickly understood why Nathan would have nightmares about the plants. It was obvious that Corlay was a fan of vegetation. There really were plants, everywhere. The furnishings looked like they had seen better days. The amenities were old, though Ryan imagined they sufficed. There were pictures of Nathan hung in frames dotted on the walls, all around the room. Then, he noticed a folding card table in the kitchen that served as a dining table for the mother and her son. Again, it worked. It was just a far cry from the exotic furnishings Ryan current had in storage.
“Let’s roll,” Nathan said, pumping his fist in the air.
Ryan looked down at him. “No, no, no! You have to tie your shoes. Your mom will wring my neck if you come back with as much as a scratch on you. She’ll never let us play, again. Tie those kicks.”
“I’ll just do this,” Nathan said as he bent down and tucked his untied laces inside his shoes.
“What the . . . No! Tie them, not tuck them.”
“Well, I can’t tie them.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know how to tie.”
Ryan stared at him. “Are you messing with me? How are you going to tie your cleats?”
“I don’t have any cleats, yet.”
“Maybe not. But, when you have them, you have to tie them. Sit down. Let me see you try.”
Nathan plopped on his butt and drew one of his knees to his chin, his fingers fumbling with the shoestrings. Ryan watched him for a minute. The boy ended up scrunching and twisting the laces, piling them on top of his shoe. His curious eyes glanced up at Ryan.
“Like this?”
Ryan smiled, arching his eyebrows. “Yeah, if you’re building a bird nest. Untangle them. Let me show you.”
He crouched down in front of the boy. Ryan instructed him, turning each of the laces into a loop, crossing them and pulling one loop through the open space beneath. Then, he untied them and pushed Nathan to try it. Nathan’s determination melted Ryan’s heart. The kid desperately wanted to please him by getting it right. He stuck his tongue out as he concentrated on each step. It was the cutest thing Ryan had ever seen. Finally, after a few attempts, Nathan smiled and held his hands out, motioning toward his almost tied laces.
“Look, Ryan! Look what I did!”
Ryan tugged the laces to tighten the knot. “I thought you told me you couldn’t tie. Now do the other one.”
It was sloppy and needed a little tightening down. However, Ryan felt proud. His little shoe tying protégé seemed to be a quick study. After Nathan got his shoes tied, the boy stood and Ryan patted him on the shoulder.
“I’m really proud of you. Those bows would keep some cleats on your feet.”
“I’m proud of you, too, Ryan,” Nathan said as he slid his hand in Ryan’s. “Where are we going to go?”
“We’re going to get ice cream. Anybody that can tie their shoes like that needs some ice cream.”
“Yeah!” Nathan cheered.
The pair were off to one of the local, pay-by-weight yogurt shops. As they sat, eating yogurt and discussing anything that popped into Nathan’s inquisitive mind, Ryan’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and grimaced.
“Excuse me for just a minute,” he said to Nathan and answered the call.
“So, my confidence has taken one hit after another. I probably couldn’t even sell the notion of free ice w
ater to people in hell, today,” Scottie’s voice whined through the phone.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he offered with sincerity. “Are you doing alright?”
“I feel like a crazy bitch. I’m sorry for what I said.”
“I don’t even remember what you said. So, don’t worry about it.”
“Will you let me take you to dinner?”
“I have dinner with my parents. I told them I would take them out.”
“Well, then, do you want to meet me at the coffee shop?”
“I’m spending time with my little friend, Nathan.”
Scottie sighed. “OK. How long do you have him?”
“Until his mom gets home.”
“So, rather than me throwing out ideas for you to shoot down, what if you tell me when I could see you.”
“Do you want to go see a movie sometime?”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah, if you want.”
“What time?”
“You pick a movie you want to see. As long as it’s after eight, I should be good. If you text me your address, I’ll even come pick you up.”
“So, does this mean you’re sorry about earlier, too?”
“I told you that earlier. Obviously, I feel bad for the timing. I don’t regret that he called me.”
“Who is this kid? Why is it your job to take care of him?’
“He’s my little buddy, and I want to do it.”
“I need that kid to give me some pointers. You, literally, dropped everything for him.”
“Pick a movie. We’ll go watch it.”
“Is this your way of telling me I’m being dismissed, again?” she laughed.
“It’s my way of telling you that I will take you to the movies, if you want to go. Right now, I need to get back to Nathan. Then, my parents.”
“That’s OK. I know I can do things for you that none of them can.”
“See? You should feel mighty and powerful.”
“I just need you to feel that I’m mighty and powerful.”
“Today, it sounds like you need to believe that. I’m pretty sure I could convince the people in hell to drink ice water,” he chuckled. “So, get with it, girl. Pick a movie for us.”
“You’ll pick me up?”
“Yep! Text me your address.”
“I’m going to do it.”