Rocko
Unknown: “Good morning, MVP. It’s the first day of spring training. You were built for this moment. You’ve busted your ass all offseason to prepare you for this moment. Go back and earn that spot. I’ll be cheering you on, handsome. Love you.”
I read the message before pressing the home button. The message came from an unknown number, and it would be motivating as fuck had it not come from Leah. No matter how many numbers I blocked, she just kept finding different ways to contact me. I just stopped blocking them.
I could change my number, but so much was attached to it; I didn’t need the hassle. I just hoped one day the messages would stop and she'd go away. When I asked her to, she said no. So shit, hopefully she decides on her own.
I locked my phone in the locker and started to put on my cleats.
Spring training was today, not the first official game of the season, but it was a good way to see how the rookies gel with us.
Speedy was having his debut with the team, so he had been on one today.
He was the quietest he’d ever been, and I knew he was trying to get his head in the game and make a mark of his own. I respect it.
“You guys ready?” Coach asked as some of the team headed to the field for warmups.
We left the locker room, but I sat in the dugout for a minute and talked to my pops. It was a tradition that I did before every game. When he wasn’t here, I would call him, but it was a home game, and I needed him to get my mind right.
I appreciated that about him. He always made it his business to show up, whether it was home or meant coming clear across the world.
I was nearly thirty, but he never let that stop him from supporting me.
He showed up, grabbed a cold one and a hot dog, and sat in the stands almost every game, like it was t-ball.
Today my younger brother, Shaun, came with him. We were close because Pops didn’t play that shit. But he had taken a different path in life. Still, it was nothing I had that he couldn’t have.
He reached out his hand to dap me up; I pulled him to me and slapped his back. Before I could step back, he pulled me tighter.
“Nigga I got you on my ticket. They predicted the Astros to win. Y’all don’t blow my shit.” He joked, and I pushed him back and laughed.
The game started, and I was having a hell of a game in the outfield. It was only spring training, so I wasn’t trying to do too much, but I still had that hunger. I caught everything that came my way.
I stepped up to the plate for my second at-bat. The pitcher didn’t move. I lowered my bat, confused, as a song played over the speakers. It was normally my walk-up song.
“We Will Rock You” by Queen.
The entire stadium started to stomp and clap. I thought they were trying to show a nigga love, like it’s my first game back as MVP, so I did a little salute and raised the bat once more.
The cheering didn’t stop.
“Everyone in the stands at Astro Park, we interrupt your game to bring you a special announcement. May I have your attention on the big screen. Rocko Sandersssss, this one is for you.”
The announcer's voice said as the image of me on the big screen changed to a video.
It was a short highlight reel of all my good hits and catches. But the last hit had been exaggerated to look like I was knocking the ball out of the park.
“This… this may be an unexpected curveball.” The announcer said.
The screen went blank, then the words appeared.
“CONGRATULATIONS DADDY, A LITTLE ROOKIE IS ON THE WAY.”
The camera turned back on, and there was Leah’s psychotic ass sitting in the stands dressed in Sanders gear from head to toe, holding up a pregnancy test. She blew a kiss at the camera.
I smiled, but I wanted to throw up when my whole team rushed to congratulate me, and I was glad for the crowd around me because my expression was going to tell everything I was thinking.
The only thing worse than knowing she was lying was fearing that she was telling the truth. My whole morale was gone. She couldn’t have done this at a worse time. My pops and brother were in the stands, and I knew they would have questions. This shit didn’t feel real.
When the stadium applause had calmed down and we could finally finish the game, I stepped up to the plate and put the bat on my shoulder. The pitcher wound his arm and threw the ball toward me.
I was frustrated and swung. I knew something was wrong the second I did it, but it was too late. I felt the sharpest pull. It felt like someone had reached inside my shoulder, grabbed something, and ripped it in the wrong direction.
I dropped the ball and leaned forward, holding my shoulder, trying to breathe through the burning. This was a different type of pain. I played through strains and tears. This wasn’t the type of pain that would go away when you shake it off.
Still, I tried to rotate it, and pain shot through me so hard that my stomach turned and I fell to my knees. Everybody was running to me for the second time in less than three minutes, and I clenched my teeth and tried to power through.
The stadium, which just moments ago had been loud with cheers and applause, was so quiet I thought I heard someone burp.
“Can you walk, Rocko?” Coach asked me.
“Yeah.” I gritted my teeth as I held my shoulder and rose from my knees.
When I stood, everyone cheered.
As I walked through the tunnel and out of the stadium, I saw Leah in the crowd with a face full of tears, playing the supportive girlfriend role and being consoled by random people.
I don’t know if the pain was clouding my judgment, but if I didn’t know any better, I thought I saw her smile. Shit creeped me out.
I would deal with her later; all I could focus on was praying this shit wouldn’t cost me the season.
***
“You hear that noise, Speed?” I asked, turning down the music so we could hear. Just like I thought, a noise grew louder as the truck sped up.
“That sounds like we got a flat.”
“Yeah, pull over.” I agreed.
He put on the warning lights as we struggled to pull over safely onto the shoulder of the busy interstate.
When he stopped, we both got out of my truck and saw that three of my tires had been slashed. I leaned down, saw fresh marks, and knew Leah had done it. This was the second vehicle she had ruined in a week.
Speedy just scoffed.
“Call roadside Rock; I know we don’t have three spares.” He said, leaning against the trunk of the car.
“Fuck!” I mumbled, agitated. I dug into my pants with my left hand for my phone. My right arm was still in a sling from the tear at spring training.
I opened my insurance app, scrolled to Roadside Assistance, then pressed the number to call.
“I know this shit has everything to do with Leah.” I scoffed, put the phone to my ear, and walked around the side of the truck. I was too frustrated and distracted to realize that we were still on the side of a dangerous road.
As soon as I took a step back, I heard Speedy scream ROCKKKKKK! Just as a car came full speed toward me.
I sat up, heart racing, before I realized I was dreaming.
There was no escape from her. After everything Leah had done to me in real life, she was starting to invade my dreams too.
Although I hadn’t seen the driver in the dream, I knew it was probably her behind the wheel.
I checked the clock. It was a little before midnight, and I hadn’t even been asleep for more than a couple of hours.
I took a deep breath, rolled onto my side, and closed my eyes again.
I lay there for the better part of five minutes, but sleep never came again.
This had been going on for the last few weeks.
I hadn’t really been able to eat or sleep since the night that Leah left my house.
The way Shorty looked me in the eyes and promised me that I would regret the day that I played with her felt like some shit straight from a movie.
Because since that night, I had been living a nightmare in real life.
Between my tires constantly going flat, my shoulder injury, and strange things happening around my house, I feel like I’m losing my mind.
I had kept the issues between me and Leah to myself until the fake pregnancy announcement. She confirmed that it was fake too. When I called her out on it, her exact words were, “Maybe there isn’t a baby, but there’s a lesson. The lesson is that I can’t be ignored.”
Over time, I found myself venting to Speedy about it.
When I told him what she said and all the weird shit happening, he finally said the only rational thing I’ve heard since I've known him.
He told me she was bat shit crazy, but making her responsible for everything happening to me was all in my head.
He said that it was just a coincidence, and niggas have bad luck all the time.
I knew that he was right about the first part, but something about this felt off, so I wasn’t convinced. This felt related to her. It was something in my fucking spirit that told me she meant that she was going to see to it personally that I regretted it.
I didn’t believe in spells or magic, but in my head, I always kept circling back to the fact that I met her on Halloween night. The fact that she was dressed as a possessed doll should have been the first indication that I had no business fucking her. But the shit was too tempting not to.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed, then made my way downstairs to grab something to drink.
It was another night of me staying awake till the sun came up.
I winced as I rotated and stretched my arm.
The pain in this muhfucka was worse than hitting your pinky toe.
But luckily, the downtime for the injury isn’t that long, so I can be back on the field in no time.
Getting injured right after being named the MVP had to be worse than the injury itself.
Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong