Rundown (Curveball Book 2) (4 page)

I
hear shuffling on the other side of the phone, followed by Brett
cursing under his breath. 

When
the silence stretches on too long I clear my throat.  “Brett?”

“
I’m
here.  I’m packing.”

“
For
what?” I ask.

“
I
might need the six hour flight to convince Drew to let me keep my
job.  If you want to talk to him be at the airport before
6:00am,” he tells me and abruptly disconnects the call.

Getting Up

“
Mr.
Scott,” the driver calls for the third time.  “Should I pull
over?” he asks, idling near the curb outside the entrance to the
airport.

“
No.
 Go around one more time,” I tell him, staring out the window,
completely lost in thought.  I’m not ready.

The
car heads back under the tunnel that leads to and from the airport,
as I rest my head against the cold window and stare at absolutely
nothing.  There are four people in this car, including me, yet
I’ve never felt more alone.  Something has got to give, and
soon.  Until I get on that plane and sign that contract, I’ll
be in this perpetual limbo…stuck between what has become my past
and not allowing myself to accept my future.   To use a
baseball term, I’m in a rundown.

As
we approach the arrival section again, I make eye contact with the
driver in the rear-view mirror.  He seems too nervous to ask if
I’ll be getting out this time, and I’m not in a place to speak,
so I simply nod.  He pulls up next to the curb and puts the car
in park.  Everyone in this car is waiting for me to get out, but
my feet won’t move. 

“
It’s
now or never, Drew.  We can’t circle this place all day. 
Either you go or you stay,” Agent O’Conner chides.

I
continue drumming my fingers against the windowsill of the car.
 Agent O’Conner smacks his hand on my knee, causing me to
flinch.  “My father once told me that a champion was someone
who got up when he couldn’t,” he pauses.  “I’d really
like to see you get up, Drew.”

 
I
turn my gaze on Agent O’Conner, surprised by his words.  Not
because this motivational speech strongly contrasts his normal surly
demeanor, but because those words actually have meaning to me. 

‘
A
champion is someone who get’s up when he can’t.
’  It’s
a quote by heavyweight champion, Jack Dempsey; words that have
mentally saved me both on and off the field.   

The
first time I heard the saying, I was ten years old.   It
wasn’t a deeply profound moment.  I was pitching in a little
league game and took a line drive straight to the ‘boys’.  Being
ten, and thinking I knew everything, I had refused to wear a
protective cup, because I knew that a real man wouldn’t wear one,
and obviously, I was a real man.  Lying on the mound, clutching
my balls and fighting back tears, however, didn’t make me feel so
tough. 

My
coach, who was beyond rough around the edges, showed no sympathy for
me.  In fact, I’m positive he called me a pussy.  He
grabbed me by the back of my jersey and pulled me upright, got in my
face and told me to shake it off, quit my crying and act like there
was something between my legs for that baseball to have hit. 
Being a ten-year-old boy, I struggled with doing what he said and not
running off the field to my mom.  When I started walking off the
mound, I heard my teammates grumble.  My coach put his hand on
my shoulder and told me that if I walked off the field I’d lose an
opportunity to show everyone at the game, including my parents, that
I had the strength to be a champion…because champions get up then
they can’t.   I don’t know that I really got it at the
time, but I stayed in the game.  Even though we lost, I could
tell my coach was proud of me. 
I
was proud of me. 
From that point forward I committed to myself that I would always do
whatever I had to do to get back up.

I
remember replaying the quote in my head several times when I tore my
UCL, pushing myself through rehab even though everyone thought my
career was over.  I said them again when Amber, my girlfriend of
several years, left me because of my injury, making me more
determined than ever.  My goal wasn’t to win her back.  It
was to prove that I was someone worth believing in.  It wasn’t
the purest of reasons for getting better, but it worked. 

‘
Getting
up’ was the last thing I wanted to do when my sister died.  It
was the worst pain I had ever felt.  Alexis wasn’t just my
sister, she was my best friend.  She was strong, smart and above
all things, she was loyal…and I had let her down.  I should
have been there for her when she needed me, and I wasn’t.  I
didn’t make time for her because I thought her and I had plenty of
time left.  Unfortunately, I was wrong, and there isn’t a day
that goes by that I don’t wish I’d acted differently.  

I
forced myself to stop wallowing in self-pity and told myself that
Alexis needed me; needed me to be there so she wasn’t alone, even
though she was gone; needed me to be strong for my parents who
couldn’t cope with the reality of the situation; needed me to get
up and continue to live because she couldn’t.  Even though I
didn’t want to ‘get up’ I at least had the option.  I
wanted to be her champion. 

The
only time that I haven’t drawn on this phrase following a negative
event in my life was after the plane crash. Not getting up wasn’t
an option…because of Breanne.  Right now, though, I need these
words because I’m not sure how I can get up without her.    

Over
the last few days, I’ve tried to tell myself that by getting on
another plane, I’m ‘getting up’.  That by going to
California and taking steps to ensure I have a career, I’m not
letting the assholes that took hundreds of lives, win.  Deep
down, though, I know I’m only running.  If I stay here, the
only thing that can keep me from getting up will continue to consume
and change me, and I don’t recognize myself as it is.  Not to
mention, alcohol induced sleep is not a habit I’m looking to
continue.

 “
I’m
going.”

 
I
get out of the car and notice that there is hardly anyone around.
 
What the hell did I expect for 4:30 in the morning?
 
My entourage and I head inside, and thanks to my FBI escorts, getting
through airport security is quick and painless.  I’m sure
Agents Everett and O’Conner would rather be sleeping than be here
with me at this hour, but I’m starting to like the idea of having
them around.  It makes it possible to pretend that I’m not
completely lonely.

My
flight doesn’t leave for nearly two more hours, so I grab a seat by
the window and wait.  I tip my baseball cap over my eyes, trying
to drown out Everett and O’Conner discussing riffles, and am
thankful when sleep effortlessly takes over.

“
Hey
man, I’ve been trying to call you!” Brett exclaims, jolting me
from sleep.

“
Huh? 
What are you doing here?” I ask, sleepily lifting my hat and
sitting up.   Brett hasn’t just shown up to wish me well
or give me a pep talk―he has luggage.

“
You
didn’t sound so good the other day and your phone’s been off. 
 I thought maybe you could use some company.”  He smacks
my shoulder and takes a seat next to me.

“
I
have company 24/7.”  Brett nods courteously to Everett and
O’Conner who have positioned themselves at my sides. 

“
How’d
you know I was already here?” I ask.

Brett
gestures to my escorts.  “Your friends were kind enough to
answer their phones when you didn’t.”

I
glance over my shoulder at Everett who keeps his eyes focused ahead. 
I’ll have to look into what information they can share.

“
Sorry,”
is the only explanation I have at the moment. 

“
Are
you going to tell me what this is about?” he asks.

I
shake my head.

“
You’ve
gotta give me something, Drew.  You call me up after weeks of
putting off appearances and interviews, and demand I get your
endorsements re-engaged.  On top of that you wanted me arrange
for a meeting with the Giants, which I pulled off in record time, and
now you won’t tell me why you had to leave Boston immediately?”

“
It’s
Breanne,” I sigh, exasperated. 

“
What
happened?”

“
It
doesn’t matter.”  With my elbows resting on my knees, I drop
my head into my hands.  “I just need a little space.”

“
A
little space?  If this goes through you’ll be moving to the
other side of the country.  Does she know that you’re
leaving?”

“
No,
I haven’t told anyone besides you.”

“
Look,
I don’t know what happened, but don’t you think she deserves to
know?” he asks.

“
Why? 
It’s not like she’d care.” I turn my head to look at him
momentarily and then resume shielding my face.

“
Like
I said, I don’t know what happened, and you don’t have to tell
me,” he pauses.

“
But,”
I reply, knowing he has an opinion. 

“
But
after what you guys went through, don’t you think she’d at least
be interested to know you’re going on a plane for the first time
since the crash; that you might not be coming back?” he asks. 
“You two have been inseparable.”

I
snap upright.  “I told her I fucking loved her and she broke
things off.   So no.  I don’t think she’ll be that
concerned about my whereabouts if she finds out where I am.”

I
lower my head and rub my temples. 

“
She’s
already concerned,” Brett tells me.

“
Oh,
really?  And how do you know that?” I ask.

“
Because
she called me when she couldn’t get ahold of you for three days. 
 Said she left you voicemails and text messages.  She even
went to your place,” he says.   “She didn’t share any
details but it was obvious she was upset.  And I couldn’t
reach you either.  How was I supposed to know this was about
her?”

I
glance up at him and purse my lips together. 

“
Getting
involved in my personal life isn’t one of your responsibilities.”

“
I’d
like to think that I’m more than just your agent.”