A Dusty Tires Short Story

By Dusty Tires

Andrew Jenkins, or “Jenks” as he was called by his teammates, stood in left field gazing at the crowd in the stands. It had taken him a long time to get here, and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

That was why, when the batter stood in the batter’s box some distance away, he remained enamored with the crowd around him, waving in the direction of his mother and father. And why not? They were the ones who had sacrificed so much to make this all possible.

Jenks smiled and called out to the center fielder to his left. “You see that, Howie? My parents are here.”

The center fielder, whose name was Howard Franklin, shrugged and acted noncommittal. “So what? Mine are, too.”

Far away from them, a player from the opposing team at bat took a swing and missed. “Strike One!” called out the umpire.

Jenks now thought he could even hear his mother saying something to him. He smiled and waved again.

Then he noticed a small yellow flower that was poking up from the green grass of the field near his feet. He picked it up and put it in his pocket for later.

Howie was transfixed, looking into the batter at the plate. His focus was such that his hat began to fall down over his eyes, then it actually fell off his head.

“Hey, Howie, pick your hat up,” Jenks called to him. He laughed a little.

Suddenly a sharp sound rang out. The baseball came skittering out between left and center field.

Both players looked at the other, paralyzed for a moment. Then both ran toward the ball. Howie got to it first, picked it up and then dropped it. Jenks scooped it up on a bounce and threw it in to the shortstop, who was standing and waiting for the throw to come in from the outfield.

The base runner made it all the way to third base before the ball made it into the infield.

Howie and Jenks returned to their positions. They could hear coaches and people in the stands yelling at them but what was being said was very confusing.

“I thought you were going to get that ball,” Jenks called to Howie.

“How could I when you were crowding me?” retorted Howie. “Next time, just back me up.”

“You back me up.”

“Just forget it.”

The situation was all so much bigger now than what had just happened, however. The score was 3-3, it was the bottom of the seventh and final inning of the game, and there were two outs and a runner on third.

“Let’s look alive out there!” Jenks heard this clearly from the dugout. It was the voice of his coach. They both put their hands on their knees in a defensive posture, stood up a bit straighter and peered at the batter.

Several swings later, the batter had two strikes. Jenks licked his lips and looked over at Howie. Howie was slowly turning round and round.

“Howie, what are you doing?”

“I’m making myself dizzy.”

“Why?”

“It’s more fun to run when you’re dizzy. You should try it.”

Jenks groaned. “Not now, Howie!”

They both heard the crack of the bat on the ball but didn’t see where the ball went.

The ball was traveling nearly straight up into the air, hurtling toward Howie, who was still twirling around.

“HOWIE!” yelled Jenks. The ball landed about 10 feet in front of Howie, and when he tried to move toward it to pick it up, he fell flat on his face.

Jenks ran over and fielded the ball, but it was too late. The runner from third had scored and the other team had won. Their players were crowding around their teammate, who had just scored the winning run, jumping up and down in the dirt and yelling in celebration. He threw the ball into the infield anyway.

The team gathered in the dugout and heard some words from their coach, who seemed to tower over them. Surprisingly, he wasn’t mad at Howie, but instead put his arm over his shoulder in an encouraging manner and said a few quiet words to him.

Howie looked at the coach inquiringly.

“Coach, since we lost, does this mean we’re not going to get ice cream?”

The coach of the Rendville Reds, playing in the 6-and-under league, gave him a big grin and patted him on the shoulder. “Howie, that’s one of the best things about this game. Everyone will get ice cream.”

Andrew Jenkins found his mom and gave her a big smile. He pulled the yellow dandelion flower out of his pocket and gave it to her, and she gave him a big hug.

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