My Blue Eyes (11 page)

     Sharon was Troy's wife.
     "So she told you?"
     "Her mom told us on our way out."
     I let out a long sigh and shook my head.  "That doesn't explain why you're here Troy."
     "I figured you would probably be doing something stupid." Troy took the bottle from my hand and took a drink.  "And....you're doing something stupid.  Why you doing this?"
     "I don't care about anything right now," I said taking the bottle away from Troy and downing another drink.  "Why should I care about anything?"
     "That's life little brother.  This might be the first time some girl breaks your heart, but I can promise you, it won't be the last.  I know it hurts like hell right now, but drinking this shit isn't going to help.  What would have happened if I didn't come down here?  Were you planning on drinking this whole thing?  Then what, pass out and then freeze to death?  You're smarter than that Darrel."
     He was right.  Drinking a bottle of whiskey in this weather wasn't smart.  "Why do you care Troy?"
     "Why do I care?  Seriously Darrel!  You're my fucking baby brother who has so much to look forward to.  And just because a girl breaks up with you...you think it's the end of the world.  Grow up man!  Shit happens.  Whatever doesn't kill you will only make you stronger."
     "She wasn't just any girl Troy.  I love her."
     "Darrel, I can promise you this.  You will fall in love again.  You will get dumped again."
     "But this is different Troy."  The tears were getting ready to fall again.  Troy noticed and changed his tone.
     "I know you love her.  Hell, Mom and Dad love her more than any of your sister-in-laws, but she needs to do this.  She needs to get better.  What if next time she succeeded in killing herself?  You would feel pretty shitty, wouldn't you?"
     "Seriously Troy, why are you doing this?"
     "I told you.  You are my baby brother and I care about you."
     "Like hell you do.  Why you always giving me shit then?"
     "Understandable.  Let me tell you a story.  You know I didn't have any kids when you were born.  When mom got pregnant with you, we were all shocked of course.  After the shock wore off, I was really looking forward to you being born.  And then you were.  I played with your little ass every chance I got.  You started growing and then when you were around two or three, we were inseparable.  You know how Mom is with her schedules.  Well...she would put you down for your last nap around 2:00 PM and I got off work at 3:30 PM.  First thing she would do when I walked in the door is tell me to be quiet because you were sleeping.  I couldn't wait for you to wake up.  I wanted to be the first one to get you when you woke up.  I would keep checking every five minutes to see if you were awake.  Eventually, all of my checking would wake you up, and I would go in the room and pick you up.  You were always so happy to see me.  Mom would get pissed and ask me why I woke you up.  I would deny it.  It was the best thing ever.  You were awesome back then.  Then you became a teenager and all hell broke loose.  God I hate when kids reach their teenage years.  You're all such asses.  Also...do you know how many baseball games I've missed since you started playing? Three Darrel.  I've been to more of your games then Mom or Dad.  Now don't tell me I don't give a shit about you!"
     It meant a lot hearing that from Troy.  I guessed he really didn't hate me.  "You're such a little bitch getting all emotional Troy."  I laughed and gave him a push to the shoulder.  "Who would have ever thought you could get so mushy."
     Troy stood up and emptied the rest of the whiskey, "Let's get out of here before I freeze my balls off."
     "You know damn good and well you haven't had any balls since you got married."
     Troy grabbed me into a head lock, "I still have enough balls left to kick your little ass."
      We both laughed and headed back to the car.  "You know I can't drive home."
     "That's alright.  Sharon dropped me off and went home."
     "How did you find this place," I asked Troy.
     "Boy....I was bringing girls to this spot long before you were even a zygote."
     "Whatever."
     "By the way, you do know this is private property?  You're lucky you haven't been arrested for trespassing."
     It's hard to explain how much better I felt at that moment.  Up until this point in my life, the only person I felt I could talk to was my mom.  Mary had unwillingly strengthened my personal relationships with some of my family merely by being involved in my life.  I guessed I would always be thankful for that.  Who would have thought the creepy girl in my eight grade class would have such a positive influence in my life.  She was special.  I knew it was going to take a long time to get over her.  She was out of my life now.  Gone, but never forgotten.  
Chapter 27

     Why do the days seem to be in slow motion when you’re getting over someone?  January of 1993 was probably the longest month of my entire life.  I spent most of my time thinking about Mary, wondering how she was doing.  A week after she left, her mom moved to Minnesota so she could provide support for her.  Neither of them ever called.  They never said they would anyway.
     My friends did their best to help me move along.  Practically inviting me out every night of the week.  It wasn't as much fun anymore.  I became very good at pretending to have a good time.  I should have been nominated for an Oscar.
    
     Matt and I made our campus visit to the University of Alabama.  His dad paid for the trip and accompanied us.  The campus was magnificent.  As soon as I stepped foot on the campus, I knew this is where I would be spending the next four years of my life.  I figured they didn't see too much snow, so I wouldn't be reminded of our first and last Christmas together.  Matt loved it too.  He begged me to sign there.  I told him I would think about it, already knowing I made up my mind to do just that.
     The baseball stadium was awesome.  I could see us both doing big things here.  We met with the coach and discussed what it took to be a Crimson Tide.  We talked about the current players on the team.  He was expecting his junior shortstop to return next year, although there was a good chance he would be selected high in the upcoming MLB Draft.  What this meant for me, was a year of riding the bench.  I had never had to sit on the bench.  I was always the star player on the team.  The coach also informed me he had three other scholarship shortstops already committed.  He did tell me if I was as good as he thought I was, then he would find a spot for me.  His words were simple, “If you can play, we’ll find a spot for you.”

     Matt, on the other hand, would have more of a struggle finding a spot on the team.  He was told how difficult it would be to walk on and find a regular spot in the lineup.  He gave Matt the same advice though, “If you can play, we’ll find a spot for you.”  Matt was never one who lacked in confidence and was undeterred in his love for the school.
     Coach asked me when I would be ready to sign and I told him as soon as I discussed it with my parents.  I said it was pretty likely, but couldn't make the decision without talking to them first.  If I did sign, I was expected to participate in the summer program, which began in mid-July.  This wouldn't be a problem for me as I was hopeful the further I was away from Mary, the easier it would be to move on.
     We spent a couple nights there and toured the city.  We were such small fish in a big pond.  I liked the city for the most part.  I wasn't expecting to get too accustomed to it right away.  

     On the second night, I admitted to Matt this is where I wanted to go.  He was super stoked and would have moved down today if he could.  The girls in Alabama were gorgeous.  I had a special liking for the darker haired girls, as they reminded me of Mary.  I figured there was no way she could make it down here.  The town, the campus and everything was bigger than our small town back home.  It was going to take some getting used to.  The dialect was completely different than what we were accustomed to.  We always called it the hick voice, and it seemed everyone we talked to had the hick sound.
     Once I was back home, I discussed it with my parents and told them this is where I wanted to go.  I think Dad was the most proud.  I was the only one of his kids who went to college and actually left our hometown.  My mom was a little less excited.  She was still hopeful I would have chosen to stay home and attend our local junior college.  She didn't want me to go that far, and was too afraid she wouldn't be there if something happened to me.  I was the last one to leave the house and the thought of having their home free of the kids did excite her.  Now they would have the opportunity to do that thing that most kids growing up hoped their parents didn't do anymore.  The thought of it still makes my stomach turn.

     The second week in February, I made it official and signed my letter of intent to play for the University of Alabama.  No one except my family made a big deal about it.  Baseball wasn't the biggest of sports in my area, so all I got was a small section on the back of our local sports page announcing where I was going.  My family threw a huge party for me.  By huge, I mean all my family.  Brothers, sister, aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews were all there.  It was pretty special.  I kept hoping beyond hope Mary would appear suddenly through the sea of people.  She didn't.
     It had been over a month since I last saw or heard from her.  As far as I knew, she could have killed herself and I wouldn't have heard a thing.  Her mom had our number, but never bothered to call.  It was a little selfish and I started resenting her for that.  You would think with someone who meant that much to her daughter, she would have the decency to pick up the phone.
     February came and went and March came in like a lion.  Baseball officially started for us on March seventh, but we were officially relegated to the gym since the weather outside was horrible.  There was only so much you could do in a gym for baseball, so we were all thankful when the weather finally became nice around the third week of March.
     I had completely recovered from my injuries with the exception of my wrist.  I still felt a twinge every now and then when I hit the ball off the handle of the bat.  I increased my physical therapy once the season started.  There was no way I could allow a nagging injury to affect my senior year.  It eventually just became something I had to deal with. Ignoring the pain was the only thing that really helped.
     This was going to be a tough season for me emotionally.  I was excited with the prospect of Mary seeing me play.  I had broken in the glove she gave me for Christmas.  I think the thought of knowing I got it from her made my defense improve so much more.  Besides hitting the leather off the ball, my goal this year was to not commit an error the entire season.  I already knew I was going to be able to hit at the division one level, but if I wanted to separate myself from everyone else, a stellar defense would be needed. 
     Our first game took place on the second of April and was a double header against one of the small schools in our area.  I hated playing these teams.  They barley had enough kids to field a team and never gave us much of a game.  I guess you could consider it our preseason.  I had an outstanding day going nine for nine in both games.  I hit two home runs and drove in twelve.  It was how I expected my season to begin.
     The next few games were the same thing.  Small schools with no real hope of beating us.  There were a couple of exceptions when they threw their best pitcher at us.  He would shut us out for a couple innings. Eventually, we would get to him and end the game by the mercy rule in the fifth inning.
     Our first big test came against a conference foe in the middle of April.  By this time, we had compiled a perfect record, and I was still hitting the tar out of the ball.  We hadn't beat this school in over five years and was hoping to end the streak.  It was another double header.

     We absolutely destroyed them.  Both games ended in the mercy rule. At this point, we knew we were one of the top teams in the state.  No one ever paid any attention to the baseball rankings in Illinois, but this conference foe was ranked in the top ten.  They threw their best two pitchers at us and we hammered them both.  Talk of a state title started to ring through our dugout.
     After our last game in April, we were still undefeated. I was hitting a robust .789.  My walks started to pile up due to everyone either pitching around me or walking me intentionally.  You did have the occasional kid out there wanting to make a name for himself who would challenge me.  I appreciated this and usually made them pay for their mistake.  I hit more home runs than I thought I would.  I was up to fourteen in the first month of the season. I had already surpassed my school record of twelve from the previous season.  Our park wasn't ideal for hitting home runs.  Both the left and right field lines went a good three hundred and thirty feet while our power alleys were only three fifty seven.  Straight away center field went four hundred and four feet, which I occasionally covered with a long blast.                        
     Going into May, we were undefeated at 17-0 with tops in our conference.  This would prove to be a more challenging month to me both on and off the baseball field.  There wasn't a day that went by without the thought of Mary.  The phone call I had been hoping for finally came on the first of May one evening as I was getting ready to head out for the night.

 
Chapter 28

     “Darrel,” her soft voice whispered on the other end of the line.  
 
     How I had longed to hear her say my name one more time.  I was in such a trance, I didn't say anything at first.  It’s hard to describe exactly how I felt at that exact moment.  To say my heart was doing flips would be an understatement.
     “Darrel, can you hear me?”
     “Hello Mary,” I replied as I drifted off to the memories of the times we spent together.
     “How have you been,” she asked.
     “I’m getting by.”
     “How are Paul and Ella?”
     “They’re good.  My mom hasn't been feeling the best lately.  She just recently got over the flu, so she’s tired all the time.”
     “Will you tell her for me that I hope she gets better?”
     “I will.  How have you been doing Mary?  Are you still in that treatment center?”
     “I am,” she paused.  “I can’t talk very long.  We only get ten minutes.  I’m sorry I haven’t called you before now.”
     I wanted to ask her why she hadn't called until now.  How for four months I was worried sick with the thought she wasn't doing well or she had totally erased me from her memory.
     “I miss you Darrel.”
     “I miss you too.” God I needed hearing that right now.  “How much longer do you think you will have to stay there?”
     “Hopefully not very much longer.  I’m doing really well besides a couple minor setbacks here and there.  My mom moved up here and we have been working on our issues together.  Sometimes she attends my individual therapy sessions.  It’s been good for both of us.”
     “I had heard she moved up there a couple weeks after you left.  That was good to hear.”
     “It was.  There is so much we have been learning about each other.  And so many feelings about each other we kept inside for so long.  She’s been a big help.”
     I paused, knowing I needed to ask her the one thing I wanted to know most, “What are your plans when you get done with the treatment?”
      I could tell she pulled the phone away to compose herself before she answered.  “I don’t know.  My mom likes it up here.  I do too.  It snows a lot and I think of you every time.  Can I ask you something Darrel?”
     “You can ask me anything Mary.”
     Her voice cracking trying to hold it together, “Do you still love me?  Do you still think about me?”
     Now it was my turn trying to hold it all together, “Of course I do Mary.  I told you I would never stop loving you.  I want you to know there is not a day that goes by where I don’t think about you.”
     “Thank you Darrel,” Mary stated as I heard the raw emotion in her voice.  I could tell she had lost all control of her emotions.  I didn't say anything else as I listened to her cry in her halfhearted attempt to conceal it from me.  It was selfish of me, I know, but hearing her pain helped me know that she was still in love with me.
     “I have to go Darrel….I love you so much!”
     “I love you too.  Get better, okay.”
      “Bye”
      And with that, she hung up the phone.  I tried my best to compose myself as I exited my bedroom.  I displayed more emotion in one year then a seventeen year old boy needs to.  My eyes were red due to my attempt at hiding my tears.  I walked down the stairs to the kitchen and my mom was sitting at the table.  She didn't say anything.  I didn't say anything.  Neither of us needed to.
     She got up from her seat and came over and took me into her arms.  It’s all I needed.  It was all I wanted.  I was lucky to have a mom who understood when to push, when to pry, and when to just offer a warm hug.  And she knew exactly when the appropriate one was needed.  She was my rock.  She was the one who made getting through this difficult time better.  I loved her dearly.
Chapter 29