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Training was over, for today, just a week left before the big game; just like every summer, miss Betty Collins was working hard with her team, and she confided her kids would be putting all of their efforts on the field.
They had put down a better strategy, this year, studying their mistakes from their previous games; the last question mark left to the woman was Bruce Yamada, and who would pitch with him. Though she kept thinking of someone… The gym was deserted now, all the kids being on their way home, many being picked up by their parents.
It had nearly been a month, by then, since Vance Hopper vanished, and rumors had fast spread about his disappearance being linked to Griffin Stagg’s. Sure enough, it was weird two kids from the same neighborhood, attending the same school, had disappeared so close to each other… And police was at sea, with no leads; but they too said it was possible, that those kids hadn’t just “run away from home”.
The PE teacher couldn’t help shuddering, thinking about it: as bad as she thought of Vance, she truly hoped he was okay, and Griffin, well… By then she had changed up as well, storing her Bermuda shorts and sneakers back in her bag: the principal had let her using the gym, just as usual, and keeping its keys for all of summer break, allowing her to train her team on the school athletics field.
As she turned the lights off, her steps echoing, she thought back to detective Wright, the policeman in charge of the missing kids’ case, and his idiotic partner Miller: they had already come to school a bunch of times, this last month, much more than they had after Griffin disappeared. Teaching both of him and Vance, she had been asked a lot by the two detectives, Wright always being the understanding one, Miller acting like the most stereotypical of “bad cops”, a part he seemed to enjoy…
“Do you know”, had they asked, “if these two kids had any ties to Westminster?”
And they had harped on that a couple of times, during their last meetings; and miss Collins wondered more and more if they knew more than they were sharing… She passed by boys’ locker room, its door half-open, light still on: peeking inside, at first, she saw no one, the room being quiet as ever; but the second she reached for the light switcher, she noticed that no, it wasn’t deserted just yet.
“… Finney?” she called, the kid barely glancing at her, his bag sitting next to him; he had red eyes, sniffles hardly concealed: he had not even showered, his brown, usually soft hair still glistening in sweat, his sneakers still to be stored…
“Finney.”, miss Collins entered the room, Finney promptly rubbing his eyes: he had waited for the others to leave, before letting tears flow.
“Finney, what’s the matter?”, she sat right next to him, “What happened?”
“Nothing.”, he sniffled in a thin voice, his gaze low on his knees.
“… Was it one of the boys?”, asked his teacher, already on a war footing, “Did one of the boys do something to you?”
If that was the case, she already had one hundred push-ups waiting for them, and she was glad to run them ragged with exercises their last training day…
“No.”, the kid sighed though, more and more tears still welling in his eyes, breath still staggering softly: that was not the first time, since he had realized…
“Well, what is it, then?”, asked miss Collins, “… You can trust me, you know that.”
He knew, of course he knew… He just wasn’t sure he could about this, his fear and confusion still hammering inside of him: what would she think of him…
“Would you tell me?”, the teacher encouraged him in a caring voice, gently rubbing his arm like nobody had, in years…
“I… think I’m in love.”, he let out, his voice scraping through his throat… miss Collins chuckled cheerfully at that, her hands clapping vigorously.
“That’s great, that’s fantastic!”, she cheered, a huge smile on her face, “I mean, I get it, it’s not easy to deal with, but still… And tell me, who’s the lucky one?”
“… Robin Arellano.”, he fessed up, his heart skipping a beat… his answer echoing a couple of times in his teacher’s ears, the kid avoiding her gaze…
“Well…”, she kept it together, “That’s even better. He’s really cute, huh?”
Finney felt his eyes stinging again with fear, his breath deepening more and more; he heard so much daze in his teacher’s voice…
“I don’t know how…”, he didn’t dare looking at her, “I swear, miss, I don’t like boys. I mean… I like girls, I always have. But when I’m with him, I…”
His voice wilted in his throat as he wiped away a few tears, his teacher’s gaze still on him… All of a sudden, he felt her hand on his shoulder, gentle and delicate.
“How do you feel,”, she encouraged him, “when you are with him?”
“… I’m happy.”
So he replied, in a single breath… his smile stretching as he thought about Robin…
“I’m happy, I…”, he mumbled now, his hands wringing, “He’s always there, when I’m in trouble. And I’m… I-I’m glad he is, and it… it feels good, when I’m… with him. H-he always cheers me up, and… I-I like the way he smiles…”
And yes, he really was cute. Much more than cute… but he’d rather keep that to himself, his cheeks blushing as he thought so, his teacher noticing.
“… Yeah,”, she nodded, “it seems like you really like him.”
And there was no glimpse of reproach, or disappointment in her voice, the kid now feeling kind of relieved, somehow, for the first time in days…
“Did you tell someone else?”, miss Collins asked him, his head shaking, “Like, your sister, or your dad, may-!”
“No!”, he snapped his gaze up, fear glistening once again in his eyes. “… Please, don’t tell him… Please…”
“I-I won’t tell anyone, Finney.”, she promised, the kid almost panting, “… Does your father… I mean, has he something against you liking boys?”
The kid breathed in, his heart slowing down from fright, thinking back to his dad…
“He doesn’t like them…”, he admitted, “faggots, you know.”
That was their first time talking about his dad, the first time the PE teacher even heard about him from Finney… Though of course, many rumors ran in the lounge.
“You know,”, she noted, “that’s a really bad word.”
The kid nodded, he knew: last month, watching TV, they had seen a report about a parade in San Francisco. The Gay Freedom Day parade, so it was called, his father growling as its images had passed on the screen, his glass filled with vodka.
“Just look at them,”, he had scorned, “so many freaks coming together… And they let them do, like it’s all right? All of this fucking faggots…”
The kid had felt his stomach clench, that day, and he had wondered why for a good while, those words haunting him for days…
“Miss Collins…”, he asked, hesitance in his voice, “A-am I… Am I one of them?”
The PE teacher was finally able to look in his eyes, tears about to drop again from them, and she breathed in deeply, still taking in everything he just told her.
“… You know, Finney,”, she said back on her feet, crossing arms as she looked at the kid, “there’s nothing you should be ashamed about: being in love, well… That’s the most beautiful thing anyone can get.”
And so she bent at his height, holding his knees, her smile as sweet as he had never seen her before since he had known her, back in sixth grade…
“So don’t be afraid,”, she reassured, “you shouldn’t be afraid to be yourself…”
There they stayed, for a while… A little later they were both leaving, miss Collins shutting the room’s door and finally turning off its lights: by then, actually, the two of them were supposed to have left the building, still closed for summer break.
“I’m sorry…”, Finney apologized, wiping away a few tears.
“Don’t worry,”, the PE teacher reassured, “I’m glad we talked about this.”
Finney nodded, he himself feeling glad about it, lighter… much lighter for the first time in nearly a week… As they both left the school building, Finney told her bye to next week: they still all had one training day left, before taking the field.
“Are you by yourself?”, miss Collins noticed, thinking back at Vance and Griffin, “… Do you want me to ride you home? It’s no problem, really.”
“No thanks,”, the kid smiled, “I’m fine… I’ll be fast, I promise.”
The PE teacher smiled, nodding at him, and fixed her bag on her shoulder; her car was parked nearby, so she waved at the kid…
“Miss Collins?”, Finney called her, the woman turning immediately, “… Thank you, miss Collins.”
And hearing so, she returned him the smile, the kid then heading home… As soon as he disappeared down the road, she couldn’t help sighing, filled with worries.
In sixth grade, Finney Blake had peed himself in boys’ locker room. It happened a lot, since his mother… His classmates had laughed at him, pushing him in a corner and throwing paper towel at him, Buzz Hargensen being the one starting it.
“Put the diaper!”, everyone chanted, “Put the diaper! Put the diaper…!”
When miss Collins had entered the room, drawn by the commotion, she had seen all of them clustered all around that corner, jumping and throwing paper, and had immediately rushed seeing what happened: Finney was crumpled in there, covered in paper towel, sobbing in shame against the wall.
“Get out of here.”, she had ordered everyone, “Go on, right now. Move!”
Just Finney and her had remained in there, the woman hugging and cradling him until he had stopped crying. She had sent him home earlier, that day.
It had been back in Autumn, and that year, sixth graders would go on a field trip at Bluff Lake Nature Center, a trip everyone was looking forward to.
The day after the accident, Finney was passing by the gym, when he had happened to glance inside of it, taken aback: miss Collins had required all the kids involved in the “lockers affair” to come to the gym during recess, and was now calling them by name, one by one; they were all stashed on the stands, chattering and chuckling amongst them, all unaware of what was in store for them…
“Okay, line up.”, she had said in the end, mostly unheard, “… Line up! Move it!”
She had made them all arrange in two lines, urging Buzz to put away the Marathon he kept munching, the kid asking in a sneer where should he put it.
“You can choke on it, for all I care,” she had hissed in his face, “just get it out of your mouth, you understand me? And you wipe that smirk off your face, Matty…”
Right then, all of a sudden, gym had gone entirely quiet, everybody feeling tension.
“Okay…”, she had breathed in, crossing them one by one, “Now I want you all to know you did a really shitty thing, yesterday, a really shitty thing!”
Somebody had giggled at that, nobody expecting a teacher to actually swear… She had looked at them, her eyes flaming, and silence had returned.
“Did you stop to think”, she accused, “that Finney Blake might have feelings? Do any of you ever stop to think? Greg? Tommy? Victor…”
He had called them all one by one, Buzz being the last of them all… Hidden behind on the other side of the door, Finney followed the whole scene, keeping his breath.
“Oh, you all think”, the teacher had crossed her arms, “he’s a crybaby, don’t you?”
And many had barely kept their chuckles, Finney feeling a pang in his chest…
“Well, you are the crybabies in here.”, she astounded everyone, “I saw just how much of a crybaby every single one of you is right yesterday.”
“You can’t talk to us like this,”, Buzz had stepped in, “my dad is a lawyer…”
But the glance he had received from the teacher, immediately walking right in front of him, had been more than enough to shut him up: miss Collins had figured him out from day one, just like she had with his big sister Christine a few years back.
“… Now my idea,”, the woman had reprised, a smirk on her face, “for this little trick you pulled, was three days suspension and your names being crossed from the field trip in Denver!”
Many had gasped at that: she couldn’t, all of them whispered, it was not fair…
“That’d get you where you live, wouldn’t it?”, she had said, “And you’d deserve it! I don’t think any of you has any idea of just how nasty what you did really was!”
Many kids were already sniffling, others filling up in anger.
“… But your principal has decided”, she had added then, her smile now looking softer, “you’re to have one week detention.”
Everybody had sighed all their relief, Buzz’s sneer being back on his face: a week detention, of all things, like that scared him, or anyone else in there…
“Still, there’s one little catch:”, miss Collins had added though, “it’s my detention.”
And that had been more than enough to sink everyone’s spirits again.
“That’s fifty minutes,”, the teacher was articulating, a cheerful smirk on her face, “every day, starting today, on the athletic field… Get the picture?”
“I’m not coming.”, Buzz had whispered, Matty chuckling next to him: they were already growing close, back then… Hearing Buzz, though, miss Collins had approached him again, both he and his friend taking themselves down a notch.
“That’s up to you, Buzz.”, she had replied, “That’s up to all of you! Punishment for skipping detention this week, is three days suspension, and your names being crossed from the field trip in Denver…”
A loud groan had raised from both the lines, the “picture” now clear to all of them.
“Any other thought?”, she had invited then, everyone staying quiet, “Good… Now change up!”
So she had summed it all up, harshly, everyone immediately rushing to boys’ locker room; just then, just a glance, she had noticed somebody spying on them behind the gym door… Finney had winced back, noticing. But miss Collins had smiled at him in her usual, cheerful way, and he had smiled in return, thankful.
The sky was gray, the air all around felt damp. Because of all the rumors following the disappearances, most kids had come with their parents… Missing flyers had been stitched all around that baseball field, the past couple of months, everybody paying little to no attention at them, much more focused on the game. Every once in a while, somebody glanced at the police car patrolling the area.
The big day had come, the field filling up from top to bottom, many bringing along snacks and Crush cans. Half the neighborhood had spent the first half of July looking forward for their kids kicking some Westminster asses, this time around.
In the locker room, miss Collins had revised their strategy with them, Finney feeling so nervous… He had been practicing for weeks, his teacher paying special attention to him when he came for training, especially in pitching.
“I’m counting on you, Finney.”, she had remarked just now, not helping at all.
Game was half way through, the attending crowd cheering at the Chickadees, the home team, and the White Pelicans, from Westminster. By then, the game was set on a draw, and it was Bruce Yamada’s turn batting, his team-mates cheering at him as he swung his bat all the way to the catcher, giving him a five.
“Go on, Bruce!”, his father called from the stands, both he and his wife sharing some tension; they had brought along Amy, their other child. She would rather stay home, actually, with her friends… As much as she cheered for Bruce, baseball wasn’t really her thing, her mother now holding her close.
He knew everyone in the crowd was expecting a home run from him, and his hands were tingling around the bat, his legs and arms ready as ever.
“Okay…”, miss Collins inhaled as she saw him taking place, “Go on, Finney, your turn.”
And the kid suddenly felt a pang, his team-mates all looking at him as he put his hat on, and crossed the field, somebody cheering much louder than any other.
“Go, Finney, go!”, he heard, and it was Gwen, his little sister.
The little girl had left their dad home alone, boozing on his armchair, third bottle already clenched in his hand… The man had barely grunted at her, as she left for the field, just like he had with Finney that morning. They both knew he wouldn’t show up: he had his morning shift, and it was unlikely he’d come anyway… Before coming there, according with her brother, she had brought along a few things in the bag by her feet, and he would come fetching it by the end of the game.
Approaching the pitching spot, Finney glanced once again his sister’s way, like he had since the game started: both her and Robin had found their seats behind a fence, her popcorn bag still clenched in her hands, Finney’s best friend clapping at him.
“Come on, Finn!”, he called out a little louder than Gwen, “Bring it on!”
He had come in shorts, a coke bottle stored under his seat, hoping it would keep a bit fresh: it was his first time seeing a baseball match, and thank God, Gwen was there explaining him step by step how it worked, guiding him through most of it.
When he had arrived, a little later than planned, Gwen was keeping him a seat, unable to stop looking at him: her brother told her a week before, after confiding in miss Collins… She had not been surprised, she had always had a feeling about that. Especially since she started to notice how often her brother blushed around Robin…
Finney had already looked at him a bunch of times during the game, each time breathing in deeply, urging himself to do his best, miss Collins noticing his glances. A whole week had passed, since their little chat in the gym.
“… Go for it, Finney,”, she encouraged from the dugouts, “just keep focused!”
Most Chickadees still wondered why she chose Finney, of all people, should pitch against Bruce Yamada, and even the kid wasn’t that sure about it. His confidence dropped even more as he crossed gazes with Bruce, the boy looking in his eyes like an eagle staring at its prey. And sure enough, he felt like it.
“Go for it, Finney…”, miss Collins mumbled, eagerly keeping an eye on him: he could do it, he had it in him… she knew he did, she was sure…
Finney kept breathing in, claps and cheers suddenly hushing, Bruce Yamada now studying him like any other opponent: they both seemed to hesitate, ready for the other to slip up, Gwen and Robin holding their breaths for Finney.
And thinking back to the two of them, the latter let out a pant, Bruce rolling his bat in his hands.
Just like that, Finney inhaled as deep as his lungs could take it, his leg lifting as he stretched back, his arm shooting as strong as he could his first, and likely last pitch for today…
“Strike, one!”, the umpire shouted the second Bruce Yamada missed, many cheers raising again.
Finney needed a second to process, half of the field just as taken aback as he was… Miss Collins nodded at that, proudly crossing arms, while Gwen and Robin looked at each other, both surprised in the best way: he did it.
“Focus, Yamada!”, mister Warren, Pelicans’ old coach, yelled at the boy: anytime they had a game, it seemed like his life depended on it.
Two more to go, Finney was reminding himself, Davis throwing him back the ball. Bruce now looked more tense than before, feeling his parents’ gazes on him, his opponent back in position… Finney shot again, he missed again.
“Strike two!”, the umpire’s voice echoed.
“Yes, Finney! Nice!”, Gwen exclaimed grasping at Robin’s arm, unable to contain her excitement: her brother had never been this good before.
“Go on, buddy!”, Robin himself cheered, Finney hearing his voice, and looking at him: he could see him smiling, and he returned it.
“Dammit.”, Bruce Yamada was mumbling, his fist tightening; it was difficult to see him so nervous, on the field, his team-mates gibbering to each other… his parents crossing fingers as they looked at him, down to his last chance…
“Let’s go, Finney!”, miss Collins called from the dugouts, “One more strike!”
He took that in, Bruce looking nervous: if Finney did it again, he was out. Bruce Yamada would be out… It would be his first time, since he joined the White Pelicans; and his last time too, at least with them…
“For Christ’s sake, Yamada!”, old Warren kept yelling, his heart racing much more than it should have, “Get it together, will you!”
Finney felt his heart hammering in his chest, thrill running in his veins: he had to keep focused, just one more time… For once, all around the field, his team-mates were actually cheering for him, struggling to believe what was happening.
The kid glanced once more at Gwen and Robin, his little sister nodding at him, grinning from cheek to cheek, Robin’s smile reassuring as ever… He raised his leg again, arm stretching behind, and then shooting.
Bruce Yamada saw it rushing his way, his teeth clenching just like his hands were around his bat… And all of a sudden, he let it swing.
“… Yes!”, mister Yamada jumped on his feet, other cheers raising much less loud, even his wife’s and his little daughter’s: Bruce had finally taken off, the Chickadees snapping to catch the ball before it hit the ground.
“Fetch it, boys!”, miss Collins yelled, “Fetch it!”
Finney was the only one rushing to the fence, crawling on it and stretching his arm, ball falling right that way… just to miss his glove, landing on the other side, Gwen slamming a fist on her seat before explaining Robin: it was home run.
Groans and claps raised all at once from the crowd, most Chickadees grunting and slamming their hats on the ground despite miss Collins rebuking them. Inside the other dugout, old Warren was finally catching up with his breath again.
“Mierda…”, Robin groaned as well, Gwen sulking next to him, as disappointed as he was… Of course, had it not been Finney, they wouldn’t have cared that much.
For a while, the kid stayed right where he was, his team-mates crossing arms and shaking heads as they looked his way, miss Collins shrugging: he had tried… the Pelicans were back cheering Bruce, the boy jogging filled in relief. He could take his time on the bases, enjoy the cheering, nobody was rushing at him…
“Bruce!”, everyone chanted, “Bruce! Bruce! Bruce…!”
“Good job, son!”, mister Yamada kept clapping, the boy waving at him despite a little embarrassment: he wasn’t a child anymore, that kind of encouragement felt kinda cheesy to him… But it wasn’t his father, now, he kept looking at: his eyes were on that kid, the one he had nearly been thrown in dugout by… Finney saw him holding his hat’s visor and nodding at him, right before hitting third base. The rest of the game wouldn’t go any better for the Chickadees, just as always.
-
Finney had been greeted in the locker room as coldly as he expected, his team-mates blaming him for losing yet another time, something he wasn’t new to… This time around, though, he was just as bummed as they all were: he was so close… Miss Collins had reassured him not to mind, he did very well anyway.
They had lost by three points, exchanging high fives with the Pelicans by the end of the match, Finney still feeling Bruce Yamada’s gaze on him… He put back on his yellow t-shirt, storing his sweaty baseball jersey and sneakers in his bag, everyone glancing at him before exiting. By the time he got back on his feet, the room had nearly emptied; the short alley outside the door felt much less muggy…
“Hey, dude!”, someone called, the kid immediately turning his head. Sure enough, he didn’t expect seeing the boy resting his shoulder against the wall.
“… Hello.”, he replied, Bruce Yamada closing in on him; the kid stepped back a little: what did he want, now…
“So,”, the boy lent him his hand, Finney timidly shaking it, “what’s your name?”
His hair, just like the kid’s, was still wet from the shower, every hint of tension now gone from his gaze. He had been greeted in his team’s locker room with claps and hugs, and a few tears as well… Most of his team-mates had already left, by now, Bruce lingering in that alley for a while. And he had looked at every boy coming out of the other door, waiting for the one he was now shaking hands with…
“I’m Finney.”, the kid said, his gaze low: he didn’t know what to expect, he just wished Robin and Gwen were there with him, it would be so much better…
“Bruce.”, the boy retrieved his own hand, “I’m Bruce.”
Finney knew, of course, everyone did… But he was too nervous to point that out.
“How old are you, Finney?”
“… I’m thirteen.”, he mumbled, the boy bursting out laughing, his eyes widening.
“You’re in middle school,”, he noted, “and you can throw a pitch like that?”
The kid shrugged, wondering if Bruce was being honest, or just making fun of him.
“Too bad”, he replied, half a smile sprouting on his lips, “I can’t get a ball.”
“Well,”, the boy remarked though, “as far as I saw, you were close enough…”
As they walked down the alley, talking about the game, Bruce kept studying from head to toe this shy kid, one of the best pitchers he had faced in his life: that was his first time noticing him among the other Chickadees, he didn’t stand out so much, and yet… Bruce had never been as good as he was at pitching, he never would be. And the little Chickadee he walked next to was even younger than he was…
“… and miss Collins…”, Finney kept talking, “my teacher, she says I should…”
Next to him, Bruce barely nodded at what he said, the kid clearly feeling his gaze on himself… Coming out of the alley, they saw the other kids and their parents clustering up in huddles, their bags on their shoulders. The police car soon passed on the road, work there being done, or so they thought, the policemen in charge of watching the area.
“Hey, Finney!”, the kid recognized the voice, easily spotting his sister waving her hand, the bag he had asked her to bring now resting on her shoulder. Robin right next to her… Miss Collins was there too, she had chattered with them for a good while, and her arms crossed the second she glanced at Bruce Yamada, a surprised smile on her face seeing him chatter with Finney.
“… So, um,”, the kid said, “it was really nice to know you, Bruce.”
And he meant it, really… They shared a smile, the boy still studying him.
“You know,”, he was about to note, “you are-!”
A well-known hooting disrupted him, its blare startling him. Turning around he spotted his car, his father leaning his head out of the window, looking his way.
“Come on, Bruce,”, he called, “time to go!”
Both he and his wife still felt a bit uneasy, being there with their children, because of the rumors spread all the way to Westminster about the missing kids from that neighborhood, their missing flyers being scattered all around… Bruce didn’t really get all that fuss, he actually had had to insist for his parents bringing him there. In the end, he was sure, those kids would turn out just having run away…
“Okay dude,”, he sighed then, “see you.”
“Yeah…” Finney nodded.
“Your arm is mint…”, Bruce pointed at him as he stepped back away, his eyes thinning, “You almost had me!”
Finney chuckled at that, exchanging with him one last “good game” before finally reaching his friend and little sister, the two of them rushing at him. Miss Collins waved at him, the kid now getting a clap from little Gwen.
“And here’s the best catcher in Lakewood!”, she teased the second he reached her and Robin, “What were you talking about with the enemy?”
“Hey, Finn.”, Robin patted his shoulder, smiling softly.
“Hey.”, the kid felt his cheeks burn… Miss Collins smiled seeing the three of them like that, walking away as well: they had lost again, but she couldn’t help feeling much less disappointed about it, than proud of the way Finney had played…
Bruce Yamada had already got in his car, his sister slouched next to him, boredom getting the best of her. The second the car took off, right behind it, a black van started its engine as well. Mister Yamada hadn’t noticed it following them all the way from Westminster, and just as well, he wouldn’t notice it tailing them again as they finally drove back home. Both the man and his wife sighed in relief.
-
The field was empty, it would be for a couple of weeks at least. Gwen had been gone for a good while by then, she would spend that whole afternoon with Pamela, one of her friends from homeroom. She would have gladly stayed with Finney and Robin, when they asked her, but she knew well enough her brother would have rather been left alone with his friend, especially now that he had told her.
It had taken him all of his courage, his fists clenching shut: if miss Collins knew, he had thought, Gwen should know too. And it had been so relieving, telling her… She had reasoned about that for days, but she hadn’t discussed about her thoughts with her brother: she could be wrong, of course… And yet, when she was with the two of them, she clearly saw how they smiled, and looked at each other.
After she left, Finney and Robin took place on the deserted stands, ice candy sticks and emptied cans laying among them, abandoned. They had passed at the nearby McDonald’s, both getting hamburgers with fries; as usual, Finney had shivered the second they had crossed Ronald’s statue at the entrance… Clowns put him uneasy, he had told Robin once, there was something weird about them.
Every now and then, Finney still glanced at the fence he had missed the ball from, his friend reassuring him since they had joined outside the locker room.
“You were great in there,”, he kept reminding him, “who gives a shit you didn’t get it? Others didn’t even try, just you…”
Finney was glad he thought so, his gaze low… heart hammering in a way he was growing used to, as much as he could…
“You’d better eat up:”, Robin was mumbling now, through his last bite, “I’m the one Gwen will fuck with if you faint on the way home.”
Just some fries were left in his paper bag, while Finney was still nibbling the edges of his hamburger, all of his fries gone cold, untouched.
“It’s okay…”, he blushed, putting it down, “I’m not that hungry, you know.”
Gwen already gave him his bag, everything he would need being stashed in there since yesterday, after working on it for a whole year… He had not been sure, when he asked Robin, but the kid had been glad being invited, though he had never given a shit about space or anything. And yet, he was always listening when Finney talked about it with him, and this afternoon thrilled him much more than another moon landing would ever had. Also, he would always be surprised about how much Finney knew about space, a glint in his eyes anytime he had a chance to put his fingers on it… He dreamed of working for NASA, and Robin was sure it was only a matter of time. Had he believed in himself a little more…
“Hey,”, Robin asked him, seeing him so moody, “you good?”
“Of course.”, Finney nodded, his friend looking at him, serious…
“You know, Gwen told me about… yesterday…”
And just like that, all of a sudden, the damp air filling up the neighborhood seemed to freeze around the two of them, Finney breathing in deep, and sharp…
“Did he beat you too?”, Robin asked him in a single breath, the kid lowering his gaze as he tried to push back the tears…
“Yeah…”, he puffed thinking of last night, when he had tried to protect Gwen…
“Finney,”, Robin groaned, his fists already tightening, “listen to me, por favor: you can’t go on like this, we have to put a stop to your dad!”
Finney too felt his own fists clenching, and his teeth as well… his eyes burning…
“Please, Robin…”
“Buddy,”, his friend held his hand, “you gotta stand up for-!”
“Robin!”, Finney raised back his gaze, his tears stinging, “… Not now, please. I’m not really… like… Not now, okay?”
“… Sorry.”, Robin nodded, looking at him munching: he was growing used to this. Or rather, he wasn’t at all… The more time passed, the much less he managed to rest easy on that, Finney still asking him not to tell anyone.
Had it been up to Robin, he would have gladly kicked mister Blake right where the sun didn’t shine. Had he had the chance, he would have called him out… But that would just put Finney in trouble: it wasn’t a schoolmate of theirs they were talking about here, and as much as it angered him, it was out of his hands… If Finney and Gwen kept refusing to ask for any help, he realized, little was left to do.
“You need to stand up for yourself.”, he was growing used to remark, but his friend wouldn’t listen to him, spending their time avoiding that matter… Robin didn’t know, of course, that shit wasn’t why Finney’s stomach kept clenching, right now.
Just looking at Robin, his ebony hair and his dark eyes, the softness in his smile… He could spot his muscles under his skin, gulps pushed down his throat any time he saw them moving. Today as well, from the second they had sat there, he rested his gaze on him as many times as he could, heart shivering… miss Collins’ words echoing in his head… By now, confusion was fading. All that was left was fear.
“Are you sure about… I mean,”, he said, “are you really sure it’s okay if I come too? Don't get me wrong, it’s just… I don't want to bother, you know.”
“Are you kidding?”, scoffed Robin, “Mamá and Hector, and even Luis can’t wait for it. Trust me, it would be a real drag without you…”
It had been Robin’s idea, and his parents had agreed with it, his little brother Luis being nearly as happy as he was about Finney coming along…
“How about you, though?”, he asked him stealing one of his cooled fries, “Do you have your swimsuit ready?”
Finney giggled with him, finally taking a serious bite out of his hamburger.
“Yeah, sure…” he munched, cheeks warming up... That would be his first trip ever outside of Lakewood, and despite fearing more than usual his dad found out, he was sure he and Gwen had worked it all out at best.
They would just wait for him to go boozing, just like any other Sunday morning, before leaving as well. Then Finney would join the Arellanos, while his sister would actually go spending the day by Susie. And the little girl’s mother, bless her, had agreed to act like he had been there the whole time, had their father asked. Maybe Gwen would spend another night there as well, after all…
The kid could already picture himself and Robin storming out of the truck and into the lake, splashing each other until its clean waters would feel too cold, and then lying in the burning sun… Robin would bring his guitar along, and Finney would be eager to hear him, as always. They would also bring homeworks, though…
“Thank you, anyway, for inviting me too.”, Finney said blushing a little, Robin smiling as well in return, “… So, did you manage seeing Animal House, in the end? Even with your mom…”
“Yup!”, Robin exclaimed, “My uncle told her we were going to see The Rescuers! Luis was so mad he couldn’t come…”
They both chuckled at that, Finney actually thinking The Rescuers was a very nice movie: his dad had brought him and Gwen to see it last year, at the cinema, leaving them there for the whole thing while he went to a nearby bar. The kids had held each other through Bianca and Bernard’s story, tearing up a little for Penny every now and then… How bad a “Rescue Aid Society” didn’t exist in real life…
“Robin,”, Finney suggested, “how about us going to the movies, someday?”
“You mean together?”, Robin asked, Finney nodding in hesitation, “… Yeah, we could. What movies would you like seeing?”
“I’m… not sure…”, the kid mumbled, and took another bite.
They both were in the middle of the field, a little bit later, Finney fixing the red and blue wires at his rocket’s base: his sister had brought it there in bits he had been fast to assemble, Robin helping him fix the top, following the kid’s directions.
The more he looked at that rocket, the more astonished he was Finney made it: it looked like it came out of a freaking toy store, but it was totally hand-made, from the structure to its yellow coloring. Finney named it “Major Blake”, and he was proud about it; now he just hoped it worked as well, especially with Robin being there…
“Du, du, du du du du du,”, he kept humming as he set it for the big moment, almost there, “du du du, du du du du, du…”
“What is it?”, Robin asked, and it wasn’t his first time hearing him humming like that: it was a really nice tune, but he couldn’t recognize it…
“Nothing.”, Finney shrugged as usual, wires finally set, “… Well, it’s ready for launch.”
As much as he smiled, he was actually pretty nervous… Both he and Robin stepped back, Finney picking up the remote, and breathing in.
“You sure it won’t blow up?”, Robin meant to tease him.
“… Well…”, Finney felt some concern stinging back in his chest, “I hope so…”
He had done his math over and over again, just to be sure: nothing should go wrong, on paper… That said, though, a few more steps back wouldn’t hurt anyone.
“Sorry, one more time:”, Robin said, “what’s it supposed to do?”
“There’s a figure”, Finney didn’t mind explaining again, “in the cabin, and a chute is attached to it. Major Blake should release it mid-air, and it should glide…”
His fingers shivered around his remote: he had been working on it for so long…
“Let’s see then!”, Robin encouraged him, “Come on, I’m sure it’s gonna rock…”
Finney needed a second to get the joke… Both he and Robin forced out a chuckle: it was so damn bad… But Finney actually felt a little reassured.
“Okay.”, he panted, “… Three… Two… One…!”
His thumb stroke, one endless second passing before a trail of smoke was left right where the rocket had been settled: both the kids glanced at the sky, gaping.
“… When is it supposed to drop?”, Robin noted, Major Blake becoming little in the distance, a yellow dot in the gray sky…
“Well…”, Finney had no idea: by then, it should already have released the figure.
“It’s… pointing at Westminster…?”
“Yeah…”, he agreed with Robin, his feet now feeling a little bit cold…
“Bueno,”, his friend exclaimed, cheerful, “hope it hits one of those White Pigeons in the head, when it lands!”
“… Pelicans.”, Finney smiled, his eyes rolling, “White Pelicans.”
Both of them laughed, remote still clenched in Finney’s hands… his gaze on Robin as the latter kept looking at the sky, his fear hammering… It terrified him. Maybe it always would… But just for once, just this time, he wanted to embrace it. As scary as it was, he wanted to trust miss Collins, what she told him a week back…
“There’s nothing wrong”, she had reassured right before they left the locker room, “in loving someone else… It’s hate you shouldn’t trust, always.”
And holding onto his teacher’s words, he breathed out, shakily, his gaze turned back to the sky, Major Blake finally disappeared in the distance… And as he did, Robin lowered his gaze and looked at him, his cheeks growing warm.
-
Bruce still felt adrenaline pulsing inside of him, pedals swirling under his feet. He had gone for a ride as soon as he had come back home, unable to rest after today’s win. Soft wind blew gently on his face, as he looked up to the gray sky: the clouds seemed to be getting thicker… He had been riding for a good while by then, and so he was now hurrying back home, down the roads and alleys he had grown by. He had just met their postman, a little ahead, the old man nodding at him.
The streets were mostly deserted, by then, it was lunch-time. He turned right, and found himself back on the main road; his home was only a few blocks away, and he already could taste today’s lunch: his mother was preparing him his favorite meatballs, just like any other time he played: if he won, it was his prize, otherwise, it was a very good way to lift his spirit. It hardly happened, though… After lunch, he had promised his sister Amy to play Candy Land with her.
It was the least he could grant her, after their parents dragged her to see his game, as always… He had really had it rough, this time around: that kid, Finney, he really had been something… Hence why he was even gladder than usual he had scored, and with a home run too. The best way he could bid farewell to the Pelicans… as he rode, getting closer to home, he saw Gretchen Ross and May Williams crossing the road, both of them appearing from a nearby alley: they kept their shirts knotted on their bellies, their flared jeans swinging at every step they took.
“Hi, Bruce…”, they both waved at him, coyly, and the boy nodded at them, both giggling enthusiastically the second he glanced back their way.
He would likely start to see them usually, in a month or something… He still felt eager, thinking about it, but also excited, in the best way: by then, less than a whole month was left before he started high school, and applied to join its baseball team. Nobody had doubts he’d make it, and many already whispered about a scholarship being at hand… But he didn’t want to think about it now.
Right now, he was glad enough he had finished that way with the Pelicans. After five years spent together, he would miss them, all of them… Even Warren, that old pain in the ass. The boy was actually moved by the speech he had held in the locker room, in front of everyone, a few hours ago: he had bid him farewell, wished him the best of luck, and the whole team had done the same, smothering him in hugs… How glad he was about those five years, he would treasure them forever.
Clouds started to rumble above his head, his feet pushing a little bit faster: a couple more blocks, and he would rush inside… All of a sudden he heard something, but it was no thunderclap. More like a bang, a small one… Turning around, behind the power poles, he saw something in the sky, seeming to be parachuting. He turned back, a chuckle leaving his mouth: were Russians invading them, now…
He finally saw the last crossroad, his block being right afterwards, clouds rumbling louder and louder. But by the time he reached it, he had to slow down, because a black van appeared from the left, and cut his way… And before he could realize it, he was being dragged and slammed in its back, his consciousness fading, a cluster of black ballons being the last thing he saw on the road, before both doors slammed.
The black van left, and rain started to drop. Mister Yamada looked out the window, wondering where his son was: he could catch a cold, in this weather… Meanwhile, missis Yamada had already set the table, little Amy turning off the TV and rushing to wash her hands. Warm meatballs rested in a large plate, waiting for Bruce.