Chapter 11

Chapter 11



Finding an empty parking space I rolled the car to a stop, shut off the engine and cranked down the driver side window. Tanner quickly flung open the passenger door and raced to join the remainder of the rambunctious boys who were just arriving. My mind was still awash with thoughts, I felt to savor them a bit longer.
Leaning back into the seat I quietly closed my eyes. One by one the colorful ruminations vacated my mind leaving behind only lingering impressions. slowly even those pungent feelings faded until all the flowery notions were gone.
Opening my eyes again, I threw my glance toward the baseball diamond. John had positioned his team into two parallel lines. Half of the boys on one side the rest on the other. Like a spirited general directing his troops he then began barking out orders. The boys really had no need for Johns growling directions. After numberless trips to this field, after hours of baking in the broiling sun, they knew exactly what he expected. And on queue each began flinging well worn baseballs threw the parched desert air. Back and forth the balls soared as arms loosened and mitts popped.
Tanner stood about half way along the outer line of young men. Making an elongated loop with his arm he lazily tossed the baseball toward the inner row of boys. The ball made a smacking sound as is plopped into the waiting mitt of a tall lanky boy named Alex Pettis. Brown eyes and brown hair towered over smallish nose and jagged chin. Alex or A.J as he is affectingly known is Johns only son and Tanners closest friend. Purposely I use the descriptive word “closest” instead of “best”. “Best”, would infer a level of friendship beyond what they enjoy. Yet it is the nearest thing to camaraderie tanner now expects.
Reaching into his cavernous glove A.J. retrieved and returned fire, rocketing the baseball toward tanner. I watched for a moment as I had many times this spring. Soon their image’s melted into the others becoming a mass of flailing arms and swooshing baseballs.
exiting the car i found my way to the edge of the field. Secluding myself near the left field line I sought refuge under the same towering elm which calmed my thoughts during try-outs. The field was flooded with sound as the boys continued their warm ups. But amongst the swishing splatter of baseballs finding leather a gentle breeze sprayed the joyful laughter of a small child across the complex. Cranking my head in the direction of the echoing jubilation I scanned the large softball diamond sandwiched in between two lesser little league Fields. Playfully giggling as she scooted across the green grass of the outfield a small child tightly squeezed a long stick surrounded by yards of string. Trailing not far behind the petite youngster a ragged triangle shaped kite alternatively bounced then skidded along the turf. Amused by the excited laughter my attention drew from the Tanner and the monotonous goings on.
I found my self very much enjoying the innocent efforts of the child to raise the stubborn kite. Just when I felt the grounded kite would never sail a rush of wind caught and lifted the angular craft. The string rapidly unraveled from the smooth stick and the kite danced into a wispy blue sky. Watching the acrobatic kite hang on the stiff breeze I pondered its flight. The wind it seemed had buoyed the thin colorful plastic that clung to cross shaped sticks. The kite continued to soar and with each measured gain in altitude the little girl corresponded with increased excitement. Merrily she skipped across the field intently eying the rising toy. Concentrating solely on the spiraling kite her riveted stare failed to detect the hole which housed one of many sprinkler heads scattered across the field. Catching her tiny shoe in the shallow divot she plunged awkwardly downward flopping onto the wind raked turf. The taut string quickly escaped her petite fingers as she reached out to break the fall. No longer bound by the thin cotton line the proud kite turned sideways sliced the sky and dropped to the earth.
A sudden gasp escaped my lungs and my eyes widened as the spectacle unfolding before me. But before I could react the gangly toddler bounded to her feet and raced to the kite. Cheerfully Giggling along the way, the Smallish child reached, regrouped and readied the kite for another speculative flight.
Cooled from the summer heat by the leafed giant my thoughts shifted from the delightful laughter to my tender seed once again. I re-visited my reluctance regarding Tanner pitching this baseball season. I had anguished incessantly regarding this mater. My soul cried for relief and closure. Then as the two separate thoughts merged into one. I envisioned a correlation between the lofty kite and my brave son. I vividly recalled the failure of the kite once the string was loosed. it was the tense twine not the gusty breeze that buoyed the craft. And though the boosting wind greatly encouraged the kites plight. The very thing that seemed to restrain the tailed craft actually made it soar. I also realized that the budding faith tanner held of himself was as the tensioned string. And mine parodied the lofty wind that cheered the kite to flight. I began to recognize that He not me ultimately had to provide the binding conviction to lift his own spirit. And Even though my innermost gusts were opposed to him pitching. It became obvious he and only he held the taut line to his own success. And Though my tortured reservations refused to be suppressed I inhaled deeply, relented and determined to advised the coach of my decision. God willing, Tanner would have his day.