Gil

by Darin Gibby

  “I can’t argue with that. Tonight might work out for some lucky baseball players. With the baseball strike, all kinds of retired players are being called back. And tonight the fans get to vote on the player they want to be part of the team.”

  “I know. Austin’s been talking about it for days. He’s refusing to come to the fair tonight so he can watch.”

  Peck’s eyebrows lifted. “It could be an interesting evening.”

  10

  IT WAS NEARLY three o’clock by the time Gil rushed into the gymnasium, weaving his way around the empty tables in search of Keri. He’d be a little late for warm-ups with the team, but he needed to apologize for missing his date. What he was going to tell her? Gil found Keri on a ladder tacking up letters on the back wall. The place looked impressive. She always poured herself into the job of decorating for the science fair.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Gil called out.

  “You’re more than late,” she said curtly, wanting him to know she was not pleased. “You sure you have time for this—for us? I mean, you are a very busy man from what I hear,” she sniped. “But don’t worry, Peck covered for you. He took me to lunch.”

  Gil knew it was never good when Peck and Keri talked because he would tell her everything. There were simply no secrets with Peck when it came to Keri.

  Keri descended the ladder, gave her husband a whimsical look and then a hug.

  “What am I going to do with you?” she asked rhetorically. “I’ve got to talk to Peck to find out what’s going on with my husband.” She lifted her arms up and rested them on his shoulders, feeling the tenseness of his muscles. She squeezed them, moving her hands up his sloping neck.

  “You’re awfully tight,” she said as she squeezed his deltoids. “You okay? Anything you want to unload from the shoulders?”

  He hesitated just for an instant. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I missed our lunch date because I went to see a doctor—like you’ve been asking me.”

  “And?” She kept her iron clasp. “Now you really have me worried.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. Don’t worry about me. It was nothing, just a routine checkup.”

  “And they gave you a clean bill of health? Did you ask them about your sudden weight gain?”

  “The doctor didn’t seem too concerned. He said to take it easy, lay off the weights for a bit and stuff like that. Look, I’m late for practice. Can we talk about this tonight?”

  “Of course. Practice. But we’re going to talk tonight, no matter what time you get home.”

  She let her arms fall and stepped back.

  “Deal,” he said, scanning the alternating white and black tablecloths. “And I love the decorations.”

  Gil spun around and with long strides headed for the locker room. He stuffed his hand in his coat pocket, searching for his phone and any messages from Peck. Then he tried the other pocket, finally shoving his hands into both of his jeans pockets.

  He’d left it with Dr. Chavez on the exam table.

  11

  THE GYMNASIUM BUZZED with excitement. Groups of students were intentionally distanced from their parents, speculating on whose idea was best and who would take home first prize, including the $2,500 scholarship. Some of the students were occupied with more interesting discussions, like what they would be doing after the night’s festivities. Text messages were flying through the air, with students’ eyes fixated on their smartphones, not wanting to be left out.

  Gil snatched up the final tallies from the judges’ table and bounded to the podium, erected on a set of risers.

  “Okay, let’s get this show rolling. Welcome, everyone, students, all the parents who helped their students, and of course, this year’s judges.” Gil introduced the panel—scientists and engineers ranging from an aircraft engine designer to a nuclear physicist from a local government energy department.

  “We have a busy night, so let’s jump right in. As you all know from the colorful decorations put up by my wife, Keri, this year’s theme is opposites. I wanted the students to learn that almost everything in nature is driven by opposites. In fact, you cannot generate power without them. So my challenge to you was to find some opposites in the natural world and demonstrate how you can use those opposing forces to create power. And, I have to admit, you all came up with some pretty creative ways.”

  Gil slipped the microphone from its holder and began winding his way through the tables of exhibits. “Did I say everything in nature uses opposites to create power? Some of you look skeptical. Now, if you don’t believe me, pick any pair of opposites and I’ll show you: hot and cold; fast and slow; hard and soft.” Gil paused and held his finger to his ear. “Let’s hear a few more.”

  That was all it took. “Wet and dry,” one said. “Heavy and light,” came another. Then, a high-pitched voice screamed out, “Heaven and Hell.” The audience erupted in laughter and the freckled-faced boy buried his head in his mother’s lap.

  “Yes, that too is an opposite, I suppose, but as a physics teacher, I am here to teach about the world around us. What I want the students to understand is that the harnessing of opposites drives our modern world, even though the principles have been in use for a long time.

  “Take, for example, Kelly’s example of the waterwheel. It’s all about taking advantage of the law of gravity using high and low. Flowing water falls into the buckets of the wheel, causing the wheel to turn as the water moves to a lower elevation. These contraptions were used all over America to grind grain or run machines. Even a small stream has the ability to generate tremendous power.”

  A small commotion stirred through the audience and Gil paused, squinting in the bright lights. More than half his students were busy hacking away at their phones. “Okay, guys, a lot of work has gone into tonight’s activities. Let’s put away the phones before I have your parents come get them.” The phones slipped into pockets and purses, but the hushed rumble of voices didn’t cease.

  “So with that, let’s get down to business. The envelope please.”

  Gil held out his hand and a petite freshman, wearing a lime-green sundress, popped out of her chair and bounded up to the podium with her ponytail bobbing with each step.

  “Thanks, Tina,” he said.

  She slipped back into her chair while Gil broke the seal.

  “Taking third place—and landing a five hundred dollar scholarship to his school of choice—is Tommy Krishna with his project that he calls ‘Opposites Attract.’ Tommy, why don’t you come up here and explain?”

  A lanky Indian boy half-skipped to the front of the room and grabbed the microphone, and, out of breath, began speaking so fast it was hard to follow.

  “Okay, my idea is really simple. I use a magnet to generate electricity. The magnet has two ends with opposite poles that attract each other, creating a magnetic field between them. Just move a wire through this magnetic field and you get electricity.” As he spoke he shuffled over to his exhibit and quickly grasped a long magnet in the shape of a Snickers bar. He then took a copper wire that was coiled about an empty roll of toilet paper. The wire coil formed an electrical circuit that included a small lightbulb. As Tommy slid the magnet back and forth within the tube, the light flickered, causing a few ahhhs to float up from the audience, followed by polite applause.

  Gil stepped forward. “Great presentation, Tommy. How about a round of applause for Tommy?”

  “I think we are ready for the next winner.”

  “This year’s runner-up, which comes with a one thousand dollar college scholarship, is Jonathan for his demonstration of ‘Fast and Slow.’ Jonathan, please come up and explain how we can fly.”

  The large boy lumbered to the front of the gymnasium. He fumbled through his explanation of how the faster moving air over the curved airplane wing forced it to rise. Gil thanked him and sorted through his papers, looking for the envelope containing the next award.

  Before Gil could resume, the sound of heavy metal music interru
pted the stilled silence, causing heads to readjust and find the culprit who forgot to turn off his ringer.

  Peck, slumped down in the second to last row, head bowed into his folded arms, jerked awake and spastically fumbled in search of his phone. He yanked it out of his front pocket, looked at who was calling, then jumped out of his chair and bolted for the back of the gymnasium, nearly knocking over the table displaying the water wheel project.

  Amid the laughter Gil could still hear Peck’s bellowing hello. “Yes, sir. Of course he’s here. Let me get him.”

  Peck held up the phone, wildly waving his arms. Then he began waltzing past the tables waving his cell phone as if he were encouraging a rock band to perform an encore. Gil paused in a useless attempt to stop the childish antics of his assistant coach. Peck handed Gil his phone, put his hand over Gil’s microphone, and leaned over toward Gil’s ear.

  “Sorry about this, Gil, but it’s Ratcliff.”

  A TV reporter covering the science fair moved forward, followed by his cameraman and two assistants.

  News about the mysterious over-forty man firing pitches at over 100 miles an hour had buzzed around the Rockies organization. One of the station’s sports reporters was tipped off to the identity of the man behind the myth. That was the real reason the news team was at the science fair with a full crew. They wanted to be there live when the offer came in.

  Gil could see heads swiveling between him and the camera, and the sounds of hushed whispers. He noticed Keri out of the corner of his eye, pushing her arms forward, leaning forward to hear what this was all about.

  He pried Peck’s hand off the microphone. “Just a minute, folks. Looks like one of our sponsors is going to chip in a little bit extra for an honorable mention award. Aren’t they, Mr. Peck? If you’ll excuse me for just a minute, Mr. Peck will give the award and I will be right back.”

  Gil slid the phone from Peck’s hand and replaced it with the microphone. “Good luck, MC.”

  “Wait,” Peck said. “I need a little bit more to go on.”

  “It’s her lemon project—where she turns a lemon into a battery to make electricity. Rich and poor, you know, for electrons.”

  The gym door had barely closed when Gil answered, followed by the camera crew.

  “This is Gil,” he said.

  “How bad do you want to play for the Rockies?”

  Gil paused, wondering if this is really what he wanted. This was his chance … finally. “Who wouldn’t?”

  “Good, because we want to make you a Colorado Rockie. What do you say, Gil?”

  “But I thought the fans were voting, and tonight you were announcing the winner. I can’t keep my students off their phones.”

  “Yes, all true, but there are plenty of other open spots on our roster, and one of them is perfect for you.”

  Gil squeezed his eyes tight and tried to gather his thoughts. “You guys are serious?”

  This had once been his dream, and the dream of nearly every boy in America—one he’d given up on two decades ago. Now this freak of nature had put it within his grasp. He felt like he was in college again, when Keri used to lie in his lap, and together he’d tell her about his dreams of making it big.

  Keri. He still hadn’t told her. Gil noticed the camera lens zoomed directly at him, the microphone poised. It was live television. He didn’t have a choice. Ratcliff needed an answer.

  Then there were his kids to consider. Austin would be ecstatic. He was oblivious to protocol. But Alicia would realize his faux pas. He paused and breathed out deeply.

  “Of course, I’m ready to go,” Gil said. “But can you give me just a few minutes? I’m right in the middle of announcing the winner of our science fair.”

  The line went silent. Gil could only imagine what Ratcliff was thinking. The Rockies are giving him an offer to play with them, and Gil wants to think about it.

  “Sure, sure, but make it quick. We’ve got to move out tomorrow morning.”

  Peck breathed heavily into the microphone as he nervously paced back and forth. The audience seemed to share the awkwardness.

  “You know, it’s really hard to get mad at Gil,” he blurted into the microphone. Several in the audience began clapping. “Alright, I’ll let you in on the secret. Or maybe it’s not a secret. Gil tried out for the Rockies. The reason why Gil had to step out on us is because—” he paused, “This is going to be Gil’s last science fair with us.” A few began clapping, and Peck held up his hand. “No, wait. Let’s all give him a standing ovation when he returns.”

  Before the listeners could react, Gil emerged from the shadows into the bright lights of the gymnasium. Keri had both hands over her mouth, her eyes wide open. But nobody noticed. One clap started, then another, then the whole crowd erupted in applause. He half-sprinted past the exhibits and snatched up the microphone.

  Gil wanted to get eye contact with Keri, but he could feel his chest swelling and he needed to keep his composure.

  A few in the audience started chanting Rockies, Rockies, Rockies…

  “Sorry for the interruption folks,” Gil called out. “Some pressing personal business.”

  The crowd laughed and the chants started again … Rockies.

  “Sorry, everyone, but this isn’t Coors Field. We’re here today for the kids and the science fair, so let’s forget about baseball for the moment and continue to honor these great kids.”

  The crowd hushed. Peck turned red and rubbed his face. Keri, in disbelief, quickly strode out of the gymnasium.

  Gil gestured Peck with his hand. “Take over for me, would you?”

  “Sure, go ahead. Looks like you have some explaining to do,” Peck said softly as Gil handed over the microphone.

  “You didn’t help matters any,” Gil said in a surly tone to his assistant. “Tambry’s steam engine is the winner—for hot and cold. And don’t forget to announce that my father’s church is sponsoring the cash award.”

  “Okay, folks, I’m going to take it from here. Gil is, understandably, distracted.”

  Everyone laughed and pointed as Gil exited the gym, winding his way through the science projects in an attempt to reach the back of the room so that he could explain himself. If he was lucky, he could make it to the parking lot and intercept Keri before she left.

  Once he reached the hallway he took off at a full sprint, his leather shoes sliding on the polished floors. Although the days were getting longer, the sun had now set, leaving the parking lot dark except for a few safety lights. Gil quickly scanned the rows of parked cars, frantically searching for Keri’s SUV. He caught a glimpse of Keri’s taillights and heard tires screeching.

  Gil reached into his front pocket for his cell phone. The one he fished out was Peck’s; his was still at the doctor’s office. He pressed the “on” button, hoping Keri would take his call. Suddenly, a voice sounded from behind Gil.

  “I’ve been trying to find you.”

  Gil turned to find his father, breathing heavily from scampering across the parking lot. “What in heaven’s name went on in there? Is that really true, about an offer from the Rockies?”

  Gil sighed. He didn’t have time to explain this, and even if he did, his father wouldn’t believe it.

  “Well, out with it,” his father insisted.

  “I’m not sure I can explain it. For some reason, I just started pitching fast—really fast.”

  “How fast is really fast?”

  “Like over a hundred fast.” Gil explained the events of the last week while his father intently listened with eyes as wide as saucers.

  “This can only be a sign from God that you are forgiven for your past indiscretions,” Pastor Ron said when Gil was finished. “This is your second chance to pitch for God. You’ve got to accept. You need to call them back right now and accept.”

  He didn’t want to go there with his father.

  “I need Keri’s blessing, and she’s really upset right now. Besides, I’m not sure I want to give up my life. I love my jo
b.”

  “No, you’ve got to call back and accept the offer. The hand of God is in this. Can’t you see? This is not Keri’s decision; it’s a calling from God. She won’t ruin this one again.”

  Pastor Ron reached out and slipped the phone from Gil’s grasp then tapped the screen twice.

  “Go ahead, son. Make the call. The secret is out and everyone knows the Rockies are waiting to hear from you.” In his most authoritative voice he urged Gil, “Make the call, son.”

  Gil stared at the phone. Pastor Ron had Ratcliff’s number already illuminated on the display screen. “Call him,” he insisted.

  Gil looked up to the starlit sky, closed his eyes, and pressed the button.

  12

  ALL THE LIGHTS in the house were off, even the kitchen light, which Keri always kept on when Gil came home late.

  He headed straight for the bedroom, feeling his way down the darkened hallway. The kids’ doors were shut, and so was his. Keri never closed their bedroom door, and Gil paused before turning the handle. What was he going to say? She’d given him the chance to come clean when she’d raised the issue of the lawsuit, another little detail he’d kept hidden. Now this. There was nothing he could do but face the firing squad.

  The streetlight slipping through the window curtain afforded just enough light to make out a lumpy figure beneath the down comforter. Gil made his way to the bed and gently sat on the edge of the mattress. In the dim light he could see the covers tucked underneath Keri’s chin. Her eyes were closed, but the shadows only left to his imagination how swollen they would be after hours of crying.

  “I’m sorry, Keri,” he whispered.

  Her still figure didn’t stir. She couldn’t possibly be asleep. This wasn’t a case of giving him the silent treatment. The youthful days of game playing, like withholding sex as a weapon when she was angry, were long over. No, she was genuinely hurt—beyond words.