The Last Summer. Chan Howell

The Last Summer - Chan Howell


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hands as if he had just witnessed a performance. The adults and Smelly Kelly began to notice Wyatt’s outlandish behavior. The umpire focused on Wyatt’s next moves. No one from the Castaways knew to object other than Wyatt. Patti shouted, “What a joke!” and the crowd was silent as Smelly Kelly threatened to throw the single mom out of the game. Wyatt’s faced turned red with embarrassment and anger. He would have scored on an inside-the-park home run without a doubt. The Castaways would have had the lead. Wyatt did everything he could think of to distract the pitcher, in hopes of causing a wild pitch. Tate struck out Mitch, then the next batter bounced to Drake to end the inning. The inning and threat were over. The score was 7–5.

      The bottom of the fourth was much quicker than anyone anticipated. I bounced out weakly to first base. Drake popped up to the center fielder. The Castaways had a glimmer of hope heading into the fifth. Tate finished off the Castaways easily with three weakly hit ground balls. Drake gobbled them up. We scored another run in the bottom of the inning, giving us a lead of 8–5 heading into the sixth inning.

      Duckworth let Tate start the sixth inning. It was a bad idea. Tate was getting tired. Duckworth was trying to groom Tate into something more. The first two batters reached before he inserted Drake. Drake’s first pitch sailed over the catcher’s head, and both runners advanced. Wyatt unceremoniously stared at Drake, waiting to face one of the league’s best pitchers. Wyatt blew a bubble that burst, and the gum remnants stuck to the bill of his helmet. Drake struck at his first batter, but due to a dropped third strike, the bases were now loaded with no outs.

      Duckworth called time. He shamefully walked to the mound. He called the infield in to meet him. Drake barely acknowledged his father. Duckworth said, “Do y’all want to win?” and of course we all empathically agreed, “Yes!” Drake’s eyes shot up to his father, and he nodded without his father saying a word. Duckworth and Drake were both terrified of what was standing in the batter’s box. Wyatt stared down Drake. He was ready to be challenged for the first time since moving to Swansville.

      Our catcher stood up to the boos of Patti Hartley and the confused Castaway parents. Wyatt would be walked with the bases loaded. Wyatt was befuddled, and he pointed his bat directly at Duckworth. Smelly Kelly warned Wyatt. Wyatt mockingly laughed at the unheard-of situation. He looked for guidance from his uncle. Jacob stood with his arms crossed, knowing Duckworth’s decision was to win the game and not to play the game. Wyatt walked on four pitches and earned his cheapest RBI of the season. Wyatt tried everything he could think of to somehow will the rest of the Castaways into getting one more hit. Wyatt clapped his hands and shouted insults at Drake. He loudly proclaimed, “I am not playing the Red Raiders! Y’all are the cowards!” Our fans shouted back at Wyatt from the bleachers. Wyatt was turning into a villain and a victim at the same time. Smelly Kelly let Wyatt shout insults due to the precarious situation. Drake ignored Wyatt while he struck out the next three batters. We won 8–6, but it did not feel like a win.

      Wyatt did not leave the dugout to shake our hands; he nonchalantly just packed up his equipment. Duckworth sought out Wyatt, but Wyatt avoided him. Wyatt shouted as the second game started, “It’s not fair!” so loudly his voice squealed. Everyone’s attention was drawn to the new kid and his postgame antics. Everyone at the old field took notice of Wyatt, and their negative opinions formed quickly. I was thankful my mom and dad were not at the game. Smelly Kelly delayed the next game to tell Patti she needed to get Wyatt away from the field. His uncle had already disappeared. Duckworth showed Smelly Kelly back to the field as he went to apologize to Wyatt. Wyatt walked away from Duckworth as fast as possible.

      Wyatt packed his bag in my grandmother’s car. He was still agitated with the fairness of being walked with the base loaded. Wyatt’s mom had given up trying to console him. She said, “It’s just a game.” Wyatt coldly stared at his mother. She must’ve known it meant more to him, and her eyes rolled up to the bright sun. My grandmother just sat quietly and watched his antics. She had witnessed similar behavior from my sister when rare losses found Whitley.

      Whitley was notorious for complaining about her games. In her eyes, the referees were always out to get her. The referees were just as much as her opponent as the other team. Last fall, she was ejected for arguing with the referee. She complained so much on the way home my mom made her walk over a mile in the drizzling rain. My mom warned Whitley to stop grumbling or she could walk the rest of the way. Whitley’s response was, “Now everyone thinks I am some type of villain.” My mom pulled the car over, then said, “Get out. I’ll be the villain today.” I said nothing. She did not object, and she walked home. My dad was furious with my mother. My parents loudly argued until my soggy sister walked in the back door. Both my mom and dad hugged her as if she had been missing. Wyatt was nearly throwing the same type of tantrum.

      Duckworth finally reached the distraught twelve-year-old and his mother. Duckworth introduced himself to Patti. Patti looked like she was guilty of an atrocity but Duckworth’s eyes revealed the real truth. He apologized to them both. I stood and listened as Duckworth told Patti, “Wyatt is not like anything I have ever seen.” Duckworth went on to say, “I only walked him to selfishly win, and I am ashamed.”

      Patti told the old coach, “I understand, but it is the child’s game, not the adults’. Don’t you know how to just have fun?” She was right, and Duckworth hung his head.

      Neither Wyatt nor Patti knew all that Duckworth had taught us and how he had sacrificed winning to teach everyone the game. In my eyes, he was the epitome of integrity. He could do no wrong, but to Wyatt, Duckworth was just another greedy coach. Duckworth knew this season he had a chance at a championship, and if he had pitched to Wyatt, this season’s opportunity would have slipped away. Duckworth’s opportunities for a championship were fading as Drake was growing up. Wyatt lashed out at Duckworth and called him a coward. Duckworth nodded in agreement as he extended his hand, then Duckworth handed Wyatt the game ball. The old coach and the new kid shook hands as if they were calling a truce.

      Duckworth said, “Thank you,” as Wyatt replied, “Until we meet again.”

      Jupiter

      Wyatt promised his mother he would check in before the night was over. She hugged him, and we jumped in my grandmother’s car. My grandmother did what most grandmothers do: she took us to eat. We stopped at Kermit’s and had BBQ sandwiches, then Wyatt and I both ordered milkshakes. My grandmother ate a banana split, and Wyatt helped her finish it off. An outsider would’ve thought she was his grandmother as the two giggled. Whitley was allergic to bananas, and the smell repulsed me. I left my grandmother and Wyatt at our booth and sat just out of the reach of the smell of bananas. The smell reminded me of Whitley violently puking them up when we were six years old. Neither Whitley nor I ever ate bananas.

      My normally reserved grandmother seemed impressed with Wyatt. She was just as intrigued by the new kid in town as I was when I first met him. She asked him about his life, and he answered almost every question with exuberance.

      My grandmother asked, “I did not recognize your mom. Is she from Swansville?”

      Wyatt explained, “No, but my dad and uncle are.”

      My grandmother asked, “Who is your dad and uncle?”

      Wyatt proudly answered, “Jamie and Jacob Hartley.”

      The smile on my grandmother’s face dropped. She knew of the Hartley boys, and she wasn’t prepared for another generation. The bill came just as their conversation began to be awkward.

      My grandmother paid the bill, and we left. She stopped at a gas station to fill up. I watched a lone local scavenger dig out empty cans from the dumpster. I had seen him throughout my life, and he always made me feel uneasy. He was a large man with long greasy hair. His hair covered half his face, and when he walked, he only stared at the ground. He wore a camouflage jacket all the time, even in the heat of summer. My grandmother did not seem concerned with him and even gave him a slight nod as she walked by him.

      RJ and Ogre walked out to the pumps. RJ laughingly asked, “What in the world happened? Y’all almost lost to the Castaways.”

      Wyatt shouted, “Y’all might be next!”

      The


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