As he waited for his turn Raul’s thoughts turned to Puerto Rico where he grew up playing baseball bare-footed and on sandy lots that often doubled as junk yards.
He slowly rocked the bat back and forth in a pendulum movement as he prepared himself to get in the zone and send the ball over the stadium wall and high into the bleachers where fans would scramble to get the prize. He tried not to pay attention to the umpire who was barking out calls like a drill sergeant addressing new recruits. He was aware of the huge audience staring down at the field like forward observers in a military unit exercise. He imagined his mother’s voice calmly telling him to relax and to focus to the task at hand.
It was high noon and the heat of the day was well on its way to hitting a record temperature in the high nineties for this time of year. Sweat beaded up on his brow, and he automatically wiped it away as he watched two of his teammates on base – second and third – who were inching away from the plate to get a quick start when the crack of the batter’s bat sounded off like a gunshot.
Raul took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Then the batter made contact with the ball and sent it high into right field where it was easily caught. That meant there were two outs. That also meant that the fate of the team rested on his shoulders here in the 9th inning. He slipped the weight off of his bat and purposely strode to home plate. His face was a mask of concentration as he took his position and waited for the first pitch.
It came in at 100 mph and low inside. He struck at it and missed the ball by an inch. A murmur went up in the restless home crowd. The umpire barked, “Strike one!“
Time was suspended for a moment while Raul thought about all of the sacrifices he made to get to play professional baseball. Today was his first game in the big leagues. His grip tightened on the bat as the pitcher wound up and hurled another heater toward the plate. His eyes tracked the ball’s velocity and height and when he swung, he made solid contact. His joy was quickly replaced by concern when the ball went out of bounds. He had one strike left before the game was over. He knew it would be the rookie’s fault if the game were lost. His teammates would look at him with scorn and wonder how he ever got a professional contract.
The doubts hovered over him like banshees haunting his thoughts as he watched the pitcher wind up while saying a silent prayer. He was aware of the catcher making a sign in his glove when the ball came at him like a rocket.
The crowd cheered lustily as Raul’s double careened off of the center field wall and the fielder’s throw didn’t make it in time before both of his teammates passed home base. He looked up at the sky and thanked his mother who’d been in heaven for three years now.
-30-
An owl flies across the growing dawn’s dim light heading in the protection of the dense forest that stretches ahead as far as the human eye can see. The mighty oak trees silently welcomed the owl who lives among their many boughs.
At high noon in the Sahara Desert three hungry buzzards are circling two men who appear near death. They are crawling in the hot sand blindly looking for water. Their time is getting close. When they stop crawling the buzzards decrease their altitude and lazily soar closer to the day’s lunch.
Two Red-Breasted Robins playfully dodge in and out of the Flowering Dogwood’s majestic canopy on a mission to eat any insects lurking among the fragrant pink blossoms. Two tourists stop and take their photo.
A pandemonium of parrots pours out of the thick foliage surprising the exploration team busily digging up Mayan artifacts from a ruined city that once housed thousands of people. They shriek and curse the intruders before disappearing back into the dense jungle.
The Peacock unfolded his iridescent tail feathers for the nearby Peahens to admire. He starts shaking his feathers in an age-old ritual that drives the girls crazy. While not as clever as Parrots, Peacocks use spatial awareness and are smart enough to survive in the wild.
A mating pair of Blue Jays are enjoying taunting a dog who can’t reach them on the tree branch. They call the dog, a beagle named Gus, rude names and threaten to poop on him if he doesn’t stop barking.
A murder of crows circles the battlefield before the fight starts. It’s a bad omen for the superstitious soldiers who scornfully try to pretend they aren’t worried but are secretly praying to their pagan gods to help the survive the upcoming bloodbath.
A squadron of Pelicans swoop down to visit the fishermen on the busy dock. The hang around preening and sunbathing between shrill calls begging for fish guts and human snacks.
-30-
Journal
Thoughts, Stories, The Poem
Donald Trump Is America's Biggest National Security Threat
The official blog of Lucy Gan
Epic fantasy & military sci-fi author.
Reflection
We exist to help people understand themselves.
Random thoughts -- My karma ran over my dogma. ALL OF THIS IS JUST MY HUMBLE OPINION (Backed-up by FACTS!).
Running, Writing, Real Life Experiences & Relatable Content.
An Author just writing about Anxiety, Pain, Addiction, PTSD, and In Your Face Reality
An Animated Adventure
An Adventure Travel Blog
I want to be rich. Rich in love, rich in health, rich in laughter, rich in adventure and rich in knowledge. You?
Feelings that i blend became the story which has no end
Welcome to the world of cats!
The Creative Chronicles of Dave Stancliff 