Out of Left Field by Liza Ketchum

Author:Liza Ketchum [Ketchum, Liza]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult
Publisher: Untreed Reads
Published: 2014-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

Sixth Inning

“[Baseball] breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.”

—A. Bartlett Giamatti, The Green Fields of the Mind

Play Ball

From the moment Aunt Cora and I leave Boston on the early flight to Halifax, I’m all business and efficiency. I read the guidebook on the plane, help Aunt Cora retrieve the bags and wheel them to the rental car, pick up maps and an information guide, help my aunt navigate our way out of Halifax. Once we’re zipping along the Trans Canada Highway, Cora jolts me back to reality.

“The journey begins.” She shoots me a quick look. “I hope we’re doing the right thing, to show up with no warning.”

“We’ve got a reservation on the boat so he knows we’re coming. Sort of.” I try to make it sound like a joke. Fat chance.

Dad always told me to trust my gut. All week long, as I stood in line for my fast track passport, dealt with Frankie, tried to explain myself to Marty, and worked (without success) to calm Mom’s nerves, I convinced myself that Blanding would hang up on me if I called first. Truth is, I want to see the guy before I talk to him.

“Have you thought about what you might say?” Aunt Cora asks.

Can she read my mind? “Maybe it’s like your class. We’ll call it Whale Watch Improv.”

Cora laughs. “Good idea.” She points at the dashboard. “Only eleven, and we don’t meet your dad’s friend in Digby until—when?”

“Six-thirty.”

“Great. We have time to make some stops. Your dad took me on this drive when I was in college, back in the Dark Ages. It will bring back memories—if you don’t mind.”

“I might need some coffee. That early alarm was brutal.”

“Take a nap. If I remember right, it’s farms and forest for a while. I’ll wake you in time for the good stuff.”

When she does, I drift up from a dream about Dad. I try to hold onto that fleeting image of his face—did I actually see it?—until I remember I’m in a rental car, in Canada. We pull into a town full of Victorian houses that Mom would love.

“Wolfville,” Aunt Cora says. “I thought we’d stop for a meal—and then go out to the Bay of Fundy.”

I try to make conversation over lunch, but my stomach rebels and I can only nibble at the terrible white bread sandwich. We drive to Margaretsville, a village on the water, and walk out on the docks. Empty sand stretches away from the shore for miles, with blue water in the distance. “The highest tides in the world,” Aunt Cora says. “Check this out.” She points over the side of the dock.

I look down. A row of boats sits about fifteen feet below us, stranded in the mud. “That’s crazy,” I say.

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