Chapter 10

Chapter 10


Baseball means springtime and here in the southland the desert is alive, things are new again. Recently while driving Tanner to practice I spotted on the side of the road something uniquely different. The Desert once barren, scared and uncomely now stood alive with unmatched beauty. Wild flowers in bloom changed the landscape from nothingness to that rivaling a royal garden.
Mesmerized and bemused I stared while my thoughts drifted. In my minds eye I saw the same flowers last spring. Words to describe them inspiring, glowing, budding, and thriving. As they bask in the suns inspiring warmth they bloomed.
Yet As summer aged and fall beckoned, they noticed a subtle transformation. The ever-present warmth had cuddled and loved, encouraged and nursed them with the loving care of a devoted parent. Now regrettably with a delicate shift of seasons its radiant tentacles struggled to reach the tender vine. Undeterred by the slight withdrawal the flowers remained tall and defiant, refusing to accept natures long odds. Nevertheless receding like a balding mans hairline the warmth continued to fade. Soon the evolving environment became drastically different and entirely intolerable. The spastic weather which at first was only slightly cooler turned bitterly cold. a once enveloping balminess that had adoringly wrapped it with a gentle embrace was gone. The fragile flower sensing the rude change inevitably weakens. its petering persistence escapes and sloughing determination disappears. Lastly, unable to survive the harsh elements withering it succumbs. Wilted and faltering the tender vine withdraws desperately tunneling into ground. Instinctively the dying flora hoards its last drop of energy, its final ounce of strength inside a single bulb buried deep within the increasingly frigid soil.
Its prostrated glory now secreted, the once glorious blossom again perceives itself as nothingness. Secluded in this icy hell it Waits, it desires, it hopes, it secretly prays for the warmth.
As Time grinds, winters fury hammers away at the protective tundra. With each passing day the killer frost inches closer threatening to devour the hidden pod.
Winters bitter stay was far to long, all looked bleak for the trembling plant. However, for the survivor patience pays off. Something vaguely familiar penetrates the hostile tomb and awakens the imperiled slumber of the fraught bulb. The warmth has returned, gently reaching beneath earths thawing crust it radiates. Purposely seeking and fondly encouraging the waking corm. Heartened by the glowing affection the bulb gains strength. Until recently the caustic and frozen soil had chilled the secluded pod, now it heated the seed with such zeal, The small kernel sprouted with confidence. Slowly at first, the burgeoning shoot branched upward, cautiously guarding against an unexpected spring freeze. Pulling itself skyward it reaches and spins with promise burning inside. Surging rapidly , Unstoppable now suddenly it breaks threw the crusted soil. Basking fully in the golden sun light it continues rising, expanding, budding and lastly blooming again.
Driving further, the swath of artistic flora gave way to concrete sidewalks. Tanner sat quietly in the passenger seat aside me. My illuminated thoughts shifted turning to him. I realized he was not unlike the tender pod. Once a dazzling orchid fully arrayed in magnificent wonder. Then things changed, the beast betrayed him. masking his beauty the demon revealed only his ugliness. His vivid splendor disguised, shallow friends peered at a deceptive shell. Friendly and warm summer relationships chilled, suffering a fall like change. Gradually lukewarm but survivable civility became a biting artic frost.
Tanner was fully aware of the swirling northern winds which proceeded an icy shift of views concerning him. He sensed his entire existence had tilted on its axis, allowing the frigidity of wintry associations to the replace nourishing warmth. A balmy high pressure gave way to a blustery blast of arctic, propelled by a rapidly developing low.
Like the wild flower, he persisted, desperately trying to salvage his increasingly frigid relationships. But with each nippy rejection, with each frozen friendship his inner trust, his fragile confidence retreated. And like the radiant vine, feeling the warmth withdraw he weakened and started to doubt. Soon it seemed his purpose blurred and a hardy resolve dissipated.
Trying to salvage his fleeting will, I lie my encompassing love around him, hoping to shield his depleted spirit. But unseen, unheard and unheralded, tightly tucked within his inner sanctum my son, a once glorious blossom viewed himself as nothing. Secretly secluded yet plainly seen Buried deep, deep within he Waited, hoped and desired that a spring warmth could Bloom him once again.
Tanner feeling the silence of my thoughts called my name. Glancing quickly at him, I
wondered if it were possible that a boy of a mere 12 years could comprehend the extent of
my unconditional love. I Wondered if his maturing yet juvenile mind could understood
the intricate complexities of life. I contemplated the brittle seed securely stowed
Inside. Would it view the climatic change of which I have written as passing storm or
Cataclysmic event.
Regardless baseball had truly roused his Tanners drooping bud. Feeling the healing
Warmth of Johns sincerity It had began to noticeable swell.
Nearing the baseball complex I noticed John and a few of Tanners team mates had made their way onto field. Pairing off the eager young boys began playing catch in the outfield.
Turning the car into the parking lot I thought again about the flower. How the warmth gently coached the feeble seed. Fondly encouraging the secreted pod to rise from its icy grave. Yet, though seduced by the amiable invitation, it cautiously guarded against a early thaw followed by a destructive freeze.
I knew Tanner had felt the nurturing warmth of this encouragement. His self esteem was straining against the protective fortress that surrounded his tender heart. It manifested itself thru his revived confidence. The way he held himself, even in the way he dealt with the erratic beast. Soon a delicate blossom would proudly rise from the safety of its shell. I hoped It would survive if accosted by a late frost of frigid disappointment.