“I want to reiterate what Mr. Brandt said. We at St. Joe have lost sight of what high school baseball is about if something like tonight and what happened in the previous game are allowed to happen. I wanted to add my apologies and to assure you it won’t ever happen again,” Mr. Prevost said.
With that, they left.
“While I can’t condone what they did by throwing at David, I can’t let slide what happened afterward. As of right now, you’re all suspended for one game,” Moose said.
“Even me?” Johan asked.
We all chuckled because Roc, Johan, and his brother had all stayed on the bench. Mennonites didn’t fight.
“You’re part of the team. So, yes—you get suspended too,” I said. Johan nodded as he realized what I was saying. This was a team thing, not an individual one. Then I turned to Moose. “I talked to the team, and we handled it internally. They understand that next time, I’m to take care of any rough stuff.”
“Do we have to play a make-up game?” Wolf asked.
“No. Even though it’s technically a rainout, St. Joe decided to forfeit. They didn’t want there to be a repeat of tonight if we had to have a make-up game,” Moose shared. “Now, let’s get out of here and go home.”
◊◊◊
On the ride home, I kept to myself. My helmet sat in my lap as I imagined what could have happened tonight. By the time we reached the high school, I knew I wanted to talk to Moose and Coach Haskins. When I got off the bus, I went straight to their office.
“You guys have a minute?” I asked.
“Yeah, come on in,” Moose said.
“I’m seriously considering not playing any more baseball in high school.”
They both looked at me. They seemed unsure whether I was kidding or not, so I handed Moose the helmet.
“Check out the damage,” I said.
He ran his fingers over the dent and then looked up. He handed it to Coach Haskins, who shook his head when he discovered what I was talking about.
“I can’t say as I would blame you,” Coach Haskins said. “It’s not as though playing a few more games in high school will make any difference in your future in the sport. If this throwing at you continues, and you get hurt …”
Moose nodded and sighed.
“Honestly, it might be for the best. I never would have believed a high school coach would target another player with the intent to hurt them. It’s high school baseball, for Pete’s sake,” Moose fumed.
“I’m going to take some time and deliberate on what to do. When I get back from spring break, I’ll let you know for sure. I just wanted to give you a heads-up as to what I’m thinking.”
“We appreciate that,” Moose said.
“Do me a favor, please. Would you pack this helmet up and send it back to Range Sports? They’ll want to figure out what went wrong with it,” I said.
“Shit … sorry,” Moose said. “You need to get checked out.”
Dang it. I’d hoped that with everything else that transpired, they wouldn’t have noticed me blacking out for a moment.
◊◊◊
They made me go to the hospital because this wasn’t the first time I’d been knocked unconscious when my head had been hit. I kept telling them I was fine, and I didn’t have any of the symptoms I’d had when I’d had the concussion. But that didn’t mean I didn’t get a full battery of tests. I mean, seriously, they must have thought I had some kick-ass insurance for all the stuff they did to me.
By the time I was done, it was nearly one in the morning, and I was starving. Dad had been nominated to stay with me while I got poked, scanned, and prodded. They declared me to be healthy as a horse.
I made Dad take me to the diner for some chicken and pie. He agreed that as long as I didn’t tell my mother, he was joining me in eating pie.
“I wanted to let you know we got Greg squared away. We’ve arranged for him to get some help to watch the kids in the evenings. It was either that, or your mom would have to start spending her evenings babysitting. We’re going to put them on your payroll to make it easier,” he explained.
I suspected if that were the case, I was paying for the babysitter. While my parents were doing better financially, having to help my brother wasn’t something they’d planned for. Dad also knew I would be the last one who would object to getting additional childcare help. Especially when my brother’s world had just been rocked, and he still had to do his schoolwork on top of everything else.
“Any word on what Angie’s up to?” I asked.
“She found an apartment. I guess spending one night at her parents’ house was all she could take.”
“Can we fire her now that she and Greg are breaking up?” I asked.
“Please don’t. Not unless there’s cause.”
I imagined we could find a way, but Dad was right. She was still the mother of my niece and nephews. I didn’t need to completely destroy my relationship with her.
“No, I get it,” I said and frowned. “Honestly, I feel terrible because I always assumed that if either of them was to cheat, it would be Greg.”
“Me, too,” Dad said as we gave each other sideways glances.
Frick! It was little things like that that told me I wasn’t the milkman’s son, as my brother claimed.
