One of the Mariners’ assistant coaches stepped forward.
“Hey! You can’t—”
WHAP! Taser barbs, right on the cheek.
Dave the umpire looked around, waiting to see if anyone else cared to step forward and object to his ruling on the field. No one did. “BALLGAME!” he shouted, throwing his arms into the air.
The Tigers poured out of the dugout and ran to embrace their coaches. The fences along the baselines were incapable of holding back the crowd, collapsing as thousands of fans came stampeding onto the field. TJ and Jackson hoisted a large cooler full of water and dumped it over Dwayne’s back. He laughed it off, grabbing them, squeezing them, and giving them high fives. Media cameras surrounded the team, shouting questions and congratulating the boys. Beers went flying through the air everywhere, cutting through the fog of pot smoke that was quickly forming.
Dwayne blew his whistle and called the Tigers in for a final postgame speech. The boys gathered round, hugging each other with ear-to-ear grins.
“Well, soldiers,” he announced to his team as they all took to their knees around him, “you accomplished something out here today that you’ll carry with you for the rest of your lives. Everyone said you couldn’t win, and you metaphorically grabbed them by the ears and smashed their faces into a steaming pile of dog shit … and I couldn’t be more proud.”
The boys fist-bumped each other. The parents were arm in arm, feeling joy for their children’s hard work paying off so fully, but also secretly happy that they wouldn’t be subjected to the abhorrent language of the coaches any longer.
“I want you men to learn a lesson from this season. I want you to know that, throughout your life, people will pretend to be better than you. They’re just insecure assholes. Don’t believe them. Throughout life, people will try to give you overwhelming amounts of shit. Don’t take it. Throughout life, people will lie to you, cheat you, do wrong to you, try and fit you into a box that you know, deep down, you don’t belong in. Be who you’re supposed to be … and bring the baseball bat of justice down upon them.”
One last time, Dwayne looked each player in the eye. “I want to thank you boys for bringing honor back to the game. At the end of the day, honor is what it’s all about. So, one last time, warriors. WHAT DO TIGERS DO?”
You could hear the response for miles.
When the team returned to the dugout to pack up their things, Dwayne told his assistant coaches to get babysitters; it was time for a five-star dinner.
Russ and Tommy, with their families, signed hundreds of autographs along the way to the parking lot. Steve and Dwayne hung back, taking it all in, signing posters, newspapers, napkins, and breasts. Their wives and kids had gone ahead of them with a police escort.
They stood at their cars, parked beside each other, and shared a couple of beers while answering questions for the media and fans. Finally, it was time to go. Steve was fading fast from the day’s overwhelming excitement and ongoing police company. In an effort to help his weary friend, Dwayne carried Steve’s son’s baseball bag to the parking lot and tossed it into the backseat of Steve’s Prius. When he did, the bag accidentally knocked a jacket down that had been hanging in the rear.
Three envelopes full of pictures fell out of the jacket onto the seat. They were the same kind of pictures as before, but more graphic … and this time, it was clear who the two guys with Estelle were.
Dwayne froze. It was like he’d been kicked in the chest. He looked across at Steve.
“Jesus, Dwayne … I tried to warn you. I’m sorry. Fuck … it’s just that … I … Jesus, Dwayne, they were boning her for months, man … I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”
Dwayne closed his eyes, holding in the screams. He knew that there were still dozens of cameras pointed at him, unaware of what he’d just seen. He couldn’t let the world know. He simply tapped on the roof of the Prius and smiled.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he told Steve.
64.
Dwayne fiddled with the MP3 in his Audi before leaving Jenny Field. He finally found what he was looking for: “Civil War” by Guns N’ Roses. The intro to the song was a scene from Cool Hand Luke starring the great Paul Newman. He loved that movie. He loved this song. He turned it up loud.
Dust and gravel shot out from behind his car as he fishtailed out of the parking lot. He headed straight for his office warehouse. It was time to execute the “just in case” plan.
Dwayne pulled into the warehouse, which was closed for the weekend. He needed to get his head together before he did anything else. The car came to a screeching stop once inside the large metal building. The light disappeared as the massive garage door closed behind him.
He whipped out his phone and texted Uzi.
DWAYNE:
Time to put the plan in place.
UZI:
No shit, brah? I thought things seemed fine.
DWAYNE:
That’s the problem with this town, homie. Just when you think things are going fine, your friends are fucking you over.
UZI:
Damn, brah … That shit is cold. I hope it works out for you.
DWAYNE:
It will. I’m a fucking Jedi knight. It’s everyone else you should be worried about. You get my new passports, IDs, and credit cards?
UZI:
Damn straight, brah, just got ’em back. I’ll drop ’em in your mailbox.
DWAYNE:
Cool. Also, I bought an RV at Westside RV a few days back. I need you to pick it up for me ASAP and park it in my backyard, then hang out inside it until I say otherwise. Just bring the ID stuff then. You’ll be well compensated.
UZI:
I’m on it, boss. You cool?
DWAYNE:
I’m cool.
UZI:
Cool.
DWAYNE:
Oh, one more thing … Put a pound of good weed in the RV.
UZI:
What kind of good, brah? The knock you down and drool shit, or the semifunctional wicked body-buzz shit?
DWAYNE:
I’ll take the shit for when your awesome and talented kid gets fucked over in baseball, so you kill the coaching staff and take over the team, then you take revenge on society snobs and financial bullies by killing a half dozen or so of them, then you lead two metro police forces on a massive car chase dressed as Batman, go to jail, become a national hero, become buddies with the same cops who are trying to catch you, win a baseball championship that’s covered on every major media outlet in the world, then find out your wife was fucking two of your best friends, before killing a few more people, changing your identity, and abandoning everything you know to start a new life in an RV. So, whatever weed that is, I’ll take it.
UZI:
That’s the drool shit.
DWAYNE:
I’m in.
UZI:
On it.
DWAYNE:
See you tonight.
Dwayne cranked up “Folsom Prison Blues,” and assembled the necessary tools in his trunk. Johnny Cash sang about shooting a man just to watch him die. Dwayne understood.
Once finished at the rear of his car, Dwayne went up the stairs to his office, moving the credenza by his desk to the side, exposing his wall safe. This was where he kept his rainy day fund. It was about to start pouring.
Over the years, he’d managed to stash $247,000 into the safe, just a few thousand at a time. Dwayne stuffed all of the money into an old baseball bag, then made a small cut on his finger and wiped his blood on the wall beside the safe. He pushed the desk over and left the door to the safe open before leaping down the stairs and jumping back inside his Audi.
He picked up his phone and texted the guys.
DWAYNE:
You guys ready to start the celebration?
RUSS:
Ready to start? Are you serious? I started two weeks ago. I’m on 3 hits of acid, 2 hits of ecstasy, and a couple of 8-balls right now. I’m wearing nipple clamps and
hanging from a trapeze bar over my bed while Jade electrocutes my balls.
TOMMY:
No doubt, D! The party is rolling at my joint too! Glad you didn’t call, ’cuz I’ve got a ball-gag in my mouth! Kelly just poured a whole jar of honey on me and she’s spanking my big black ass with a ping-pong paddle.
DWAYNE:
Jesus … Steve? What’s up with you?
STEVE:
Judith and I are drinking wine coolers, listening to NPR, and playing Strip Scrabble … She’s already naked. So yeah, we’re partying too.
RUSS:
There goes my boner.
TOMMY:
Dammit. Mine too.
STEVE:
Mine is flying high.
RUSS:
I’ll need steel wool to wash that image off my brain.
DWAYNE:
Great. Anyhow, I had an idea. Let’s meet up at the ballpark before dinner to make one last memory. Just the guys. We’ll meet up with the wives afterward. 8 tonight sound good?
RUSS:
Yup.
TOMMY:
Yup.
STEVE:
Yup.
DAVE:
Can I com two/
DAVE:
Damit. Why wont qwestion mark work/
STEVE:
You have to push the shift key.
DAVE:
/
STEVE:
No, push them at the same time.
DAVE:
//?????????????????
STEVE:
You need to let go sooner.
RUSS:
What the fuck? Why is this retard on our thread again? And how old is your goddamn phone that it has a shift key?
DAVE:
yu guys kepe textin me.
DWAYNE:
Shit. My bad. I just texted the old text chain again. Fine, Dave. You can come too. See you guys there at 8.
DAVE:
?
RUSS:
Idiot.
DAVE:
Fcuk you.
Dwayne set his phone down in the passenger seat. It continued to quack, but he didn’t have time to keep texting. He hauled ass to his house to get showered and ready.
Dozens of media vans and hundreds of reporters and fans were camped out on Dwayne’s lawn when he pulled into his driveway. He drove through the gate to his backyard, closing it behind him. He needed to hurry.
The RV was already out back, waiting for him. Uzi slid the back window open.
“Wassup, Big D?” Uzi whispered. “Yo, dog, this thing is sweet! I stashed the weed in the overhead storage by the driver’s seat.”
“Thanks, dude,” Dwayne replied, “Here’s what I need you to do …”
Dwayne proceeded to tell Uzi about his plan for the next few days. Uzi listened intently and agreed to his role.
Dwayne and Uzi shook hands, and Dwayne went inside his house. Alex was watching ESPN with the babysitter in the living room. He was deeply proud of his son. He knew that the young Jedi in training was going to be fine with the changes that were coming.
“Pssssst!” Estelle called out from behind him. She stood in the doorway to their bedroom, wearing nothing but a Catwoman mask and a sinister grin.
Dwayne had forgiven Estelle before he’d ever even seen the pictures of her having wild orgy sex with people he thought were his friends. The pictures were from another life as far as he was concerned. It was a nonissue for the two of them. But a reckoning of sorts was coming for his so-called friends.
With or without clothes, Estelle still gave him butterflies every time he saw her. She was the love of his life. He knew that would never change, especially now that they had a baby Jedi on the way.
Dwayne glanced down at his watch. It was 7:03. Fuck it, he thought.
He had plenty of time.
65.
The ballpark was pitch black when the guys pulled into the vacant parking lot. Beer cans and Batman masks littered the ground as far as the eye could see. The assistant coaches and Dave parked next to Dwayne’s black Audi. They peered inside. It was empty.
“Come on in, boys!” a voice called out from inside Jenny Field. “The Temple of the Baseball Gods awaits you!”
The guys all looked around. They could barely see a thing. Russ pulled his coke contraption from his pocket and snorted, then cracked a beer and lit a cigarette.
“I had no idea that my nipples were such an erogenous zone,” Russ said as he tried to focus in the darkness. “But Jesus … if they weren’t just two bloody little nubs right now, I’d be rubbing the shit out of them.”
“I hear ya, bro!” Tommy laughed. “I have honey solidifying in my crack right now. I swear, every time I take a step, I rip a handful of ass hair out! But it feels so good, bro! So good!”
“Don’t get me started, guys!” Steve joined in awkwardly. “I mean … Judith kept trying to spell words that she knew weren’t really words in Scrabble, and then she would steal a handful of my letter tiles and hide them in the fold of her stomach by her belly button, while we’re both sitting there totally naked, and it was just like … so sexy! I mean, seriously! It was getting crazy at my place!”
“That’s fucking toxic, bro,” Russ said as he winced. “The thought of your wife naked makes me want to stick a hot bayonet in my eyes, then cut my dick off.”
Steve looked at Tommy for support. Tommy just shook his head.
Dave sparked up a joint and passed it to Steve in sympathy.
“Meet me at the pitcher’s mound!” the impatient voice yelled again. “Stop fucking around!”
The four of them made their way inside. The wind had picked up, and the sound of blowing trash added an eerie East European feeling to things. Russ fidgeted with the gate on the chain link fence until it gave way, and the members of the Jedi Alliance walked toward the mound.
“Where you at, Big D?” Tommy shouted. His question echoed throughout the ballpark. “This shit is freaky, man!”
There was no response.
The men could see nothing in the imposing darkness. The wind was howling, blowing dirt from the baselines into their eyes. They stood at the pitcher’s mound, confused and unsettled.
And still there was silence.
“Real funny, Dwayne!” Russ piped up. “Let’s get rolling, bro! We’ve got reservations!”
A shadowy figure carrying a baseball bat emerged from behind home plate and began to walk briskly toward the guys at the pitcher’s mound. The dim moonlight bounced off the jet-black costume. The long dark cape blew out several feet to the side in the gusts.
“Dwayne?” Tommy asked, half scared and half joking. “Is that you, bro?”
Dwayne approached the pitcher’s mound slowly and then stopped between Russ and Tommy, pulling two envelopes from inside his costume. He handed one to each of them. “I come bearing gifts,” Dwayne he said in a gruff, ominous tone.
“Thanks, man! You scared the shit outta me for a second there.” Russ ripped open his envelope. “I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts! I didn’t … I … oh, fuck.”
Russ never had another thought flow through his mind. Dwayne put all of his batting knowledge into play on that first lightning-quick swing. He stepped forward and drove the bat with his hips on a level plane, swinging mightily, hitting Russ squarely on the tip of his nose, pushing it into his skull. The others could literally feel the sound of the crunch. A massive spray of blood shot from Russ’s face and onto Steve’s as Russ staggered backward before his knees collapsed. That one swing had caved his entire face in, shattering every bone above his neck.
The men stood silently, listening to the blood spurt from Russ’s head as he twitched and convulsed on the ground. Tommy raised his eyes to Dwayne. “Jesus, Dwayne,” Tommy pleaded. “Come on, man … You know I’d never … I mean, you know, things were different then! Come on, man! Please! I …”
Tommy stopped midsentence, turned, and took off running for the gate. Dwayne angled himself sideways, reared back
the baseball bat, and hurled it at Tommy as he ran. The bat looked like a medieval axe thrown in battle, turning end over end as it flew threw the air, seeking out its target. It found it perfectly.
The bat struck Tommy directly in the temple, just as he had turned to glance back and see if Dwayne had given chase. Tommy fell to the ground and rolled. He was unable to pull himself to his feet before Dwayne reached him.
“Stand up and accept your fate like a man,” Dwayne growled. “I’ll give you a chance to die with honor.”
Tommy remained on his knees, pleading with Dwayne to spare him. Dwayne wasn’t going to ask twice. He walked around behind Tommy and delivered his second brilliant swing of the evening. He swung the bat so hard that the top of Tommy’s head actually came off, landing deep in the outfield. His body remained upright for a few moments, with his brain partially exposed, and then finally fell forward with blood pouring out like a teapot.
Steve bent over and threw up.
“Holy shit, Dwayne!” Dave chuckled. “That was awesome!”
Dwayne’s chest was heaving in and out. The mask covered most of his face, but you couldn’t mistake the raw and visceral anger in his eyes. He walked briskly over to Russ’s collapsed body. “What’s that, you motherfucker?” Dwayne was fierce. “Do you really think you can fuck over the world with your bullshit hedge fund operation, then come to my house and fuck my wife? You hairy little piece of shit!”
He raised the bat up over his head, then swung it down with full force into the cavity that once was Russ’s face. He repeated the action, until everything that once existed above Russ’s neckline was obliterated into tiny chunks of blood, bone, and brain matter.
The mask of the Batman costume dripped red in the moonlight, as Dwayne then turned to Tommy’s body again. He proceeded to destroy Tommy’s face even worse than he’d done to Russ. “Goddammit, Tommy!” Dwayne growled, bringing the bat down time and time again. “I thought you were different, you superficial fuck!”
Dwayne paused, and then staggered around the infield for several minutes as Steve and Dave the umpire looked on in disbelief. He was snarling incoherently, gripping the blood-soaked bat tightly, leaving a crimson trail everywhere he paced.
Base Ball Dads Page 28