The Magician by Kathleen Shoop

The Magician by Kathleen Shoop

Author:Kathleen Shoop
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kathleen Shoop
Published: 2021-02-12T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 28

Owen

2019

Owen’s teammate Zeke dropped him off at Blue Horizon, where he would meet his mum and they’d have dinner with Gramps and try to get him moved back home now that he seemed to be doing better. Owen was always excited to see Gramps, found himself completely at home with him, secure with him. Yet that day he would have preferred just going to Gramps’s house in Donora, climbing the stairs to his room on the second floor, and dropping into a long, deep sleep.

He knocked at Gramps’s door.

“Enter at your own risk.”

Owen took his hat off and approached Gramps, who was sitting in an overstuffed chair beside the bed, shuffling cards on a small table set in front of him. He studied Owen, squinting. He pulled on his glasses.

“Whatcha blubberin’ ’bout?” Gramps said.

Owen looked away. He had been crying, but he’d stopped his tears for the entire drive to Blue Horizon.

“Ya got tear trails cut through the infield dirt on your face. Clear as day.”

The backs of Owen’s eyes burned. He held his breath and tried to fight away a rising sob.

“Stanley F. Musial used to shed a tear or two over a lost game.”

“Really?” Owen squeaked the word out.

“Oh Jesus. Lie down. Tell Gramps all about it.”

Owen crumbled onto Gramps’s bed.

“So you lost a game. It’s the natural cycle of things.”

“I lost my arm, my bat.”

Gramps set the cards on the countertop and pulled his book onto the table. “I read you all about Stan weeping after a particularly hard loss.”

“It’s not just that.”

“Yer pop?”

“It’s always something with him, but no.”

“Can’t find the plate?”

He shook his head. “They stuck me in center anyhow. Some hotshot from Ohio’s coming in to train, and they slotted him in to pitch. I like center. I was off today though.”

“All right. One bad day—”

“I lost my girlfriend.” Owen couldn’t breathe. His throat closed tighter with every breath. Sharp needle-poke pain stabbed his heart. The hurt radiated to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“The girl with the legs?”

“They all have legs, Gramps.”

“The girl you showed me on that computer of yours? With the nice legs. Long and—”

“She’s nice. All of her.” Owen pulled the pillow over his head. “She dumped me because...”

“’Cause what?”

“’Cause I’m here.”

“Well, Christ, then who cares? She ain’t the one fer ya.”

“But I can’t breathe. I can’t—”

“If she can’t even let ya be for a couple a summer months, how’s that gonna allow fer ya to play a full major-league season?”

Owen had to agree with that.

“Still. It hurts. My heart throbs, like a cartoon or something. I can literally feel the outlines of an organ in my body that I can’t even see. Now I know how Mum felt when...”

Gramps reached for Owen’s hand and squeezed it. “Ya ain’t the only ballplayer to experience heartbreak. But yer too young to feel like this. Christ. Better to get this outta the road before ya get down to real business.”

A sob squeaked out of Owen, ignoring his attempt to hold it back.



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