Chapter 15 #2
When the server leaves, I take the opportunity to scan the interior of the restaurant, curious to see if they have changed anything there. The bar is the same high-sheen wood with Formica tiles inside. A wood-burning oven still roars behind the bar where a pizza chef tosses doughs in the air.
“What are you smiling about?”
“How familiar this place is. How many great memories I had here.”
“I’m glad you can remember them fondly.”
“I do. I’m so glad we came, Frankie. I was hesitant at first, but I really needed this.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You know we should check out this bar later. It turns into a nightclub and plays the best music. My local friends and I tried to sneak in once, but we got kicked out. But every Saturday night the DJ would go live on the radio, and we would pretend we were there.”
“I like that. And maybe we can invite Theo to come with us.”
“Theo? Who is Theo?”
Frankie bites her lip, holding back a smirk.
“Frankie,” I laugh. “What are you talking about? Do you know someone in Niagara Falls?”
“Well… sort of. You know him, too?”
“Who?”
“That border agent from this morning.”
I blink rapidly and stare at her dumbfounded. “What do you mean? How do you know his name is Theo and how—”
She cuts me off by brandishing a note. “He slipped this in my passport before returning it to me.”
The note said, “Would love to meet up after work. Call me if you’re still around tonight.”
I sigh. “Frankie, I swear you don’t find trouble. Trouble finds you.”
She shrugs. “I don’t think he’s trouble. I think he looks like a lot of fun. Do you think he’ll bring his handcuffs?”
I stare at her dumbfounded again. “Really?”
She grins widely now, but then her gaze shoots to something behind me. “Oh, there’s Casey!”
My heart stops. Literally stops, and I don’t know how I’m still breathing. No, I don’t think I am breathing. I’m pretty sure I’m going to faint or die, whichever comes first.
“W-what?”
“Casey. He’s pitching.”
I turn quickly, afraid that I’ll lose my nerve and let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”
“Oh, wait, did you think I meant here?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would that bother you?”
“I’m just not ready to see him again.”
“I don’t want to pry, but what happened that night?”
“He explained how important baseball is and that he doesn’t have time for anything else in his life. And he doesn’t plan on coming back.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. I had a huge crush on Casey in high school. But he never paid any attention to me. I don’t think he paid any attention to anyone in the Falls. He always had his sights set outside of our town.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Oh, he just struck the first guy out.”
I’ve never missed a game before. In fact, I would probably be at the game right now with Jane and the family if I wasn’t too scared to face my own feelings. Seeing Casey right now hurts, even if it’s on the small screen.
But today I promised myself to stop dwelling on the negative things from my past and move forward with new memories.
“Should we go inside and watch the ending before our food comes?”
“Sure,” says Frankie.
We stand in front of another bar, this one with the television set behind it and set our drinks on the counter.
“He looks like his old self again,” says Frankie.
“He does. I think I may have even seen him smile toward Scotty.”
My heart flutters at that smile and I press my fingers into the palm of my hands to remind myself that I shouldn’t let a smile get to me like that.
The shortstop makes a great play and now there’s two down in the bottom of the inning. I admire how Casey keeps his cool in high-pressured situations. Then, I wonder if his shoulder is bothering him. It’s not your place to worry, Sage. He has a mother and a trainer who worries for him.
But still, I can’t help it.
The next batter is Walker, and Casey lifts his leg and sets up for his pitch. It normally happens so quickly, but time moves slowly as Casey throws the ball. I see it all so clearly that I anticipate what will happen next.
“No,” I whisper.
“What?” Frankie says just before it happens. Then, “Oh, my God Casey!” she shouts.
My stomach drops to the floor and blood drains from my fingertips.
Oh, God. No.
The ball rocketed straight for Casey’s head. He tried to turn to the side, but it landed square on his temple. Casey fell like a bag of bricks to the ground. My heart pounds in my chest as I wait.
“Casey,” I whisper, then louder. “Casey, baby, get up.”
“Oh, my God. Do you think he’s…”
I shake my head, staring at the screen, willing Casey to move his leg, his arm, anything.
“Shit. That doesn’t look good, man,” someone says behind me. His voice is deep and sad. The calmness in which he says it only heightens my fear.
Scotty runs to the mound and checks for a pulse on Casey’s neck. He quickly turns to the dugout but there is already a crowd of people racing toward him, one is running with a stretcher.
“This is very difficult to watch,” says the announcer. “L.A.’s Casey Tucker was hit by a pitch and fell down immediately. He has not moved since. We are waiting for some signal, anything to let us know that he’s all right.”
“Please, Casey,” I beg. “Please be okay.”
A man puts a brace on Casey’s neck and then several men lift his body onto the stretcher.
“There is no movement by Tucker, at least none that we can see from up here.”
Grief is a terrible thing. It is also familiar. You would think having gone through it before, I would know how to handle it better. Instead, all I can think about is, ‘not again’. I can’t do this again.
I pull Frankie away from the television toward the exit. “We have to go.”
“Go where? Oh my God. Do you think Casey is going to be okay?”
Her hand trembles beneath mine and I stop and turn and stare at her. Gripping her shoulders, I say with no confidence at all. “Yes. He is going to be fine.” He has to be.
I pull Frankie out into the street and head down the hill. “Sage, where are we going?”
“Back to our car. Then to New York City.”
“You’re going to Casey?”
“As fast as I can.”