Going Back to Sin City

Sign-Up Sheet and My Weird Relationship with My Father.

Classes finished up, and Brendon was sitting on a bench inside the school entrance. It was raining and he didn't feel like getting wet, he was already cold enough. He was told his father would pick him up, but it was almost five o'clock, and he hadn't shown up. School had been out for nearly two hours now, where could Boyd be for him to be late picking his son up? It's not like he had five other kids to deal with, they were all in Hawaii most likely having a decent day. He tried not to dwell on the Hawaii thing too much at that point. He looked pathetic enough, didn't need to be the kid sobbing on a bench for everyone to see. Soon enough a man approached him. "Hey! kid." He looked like some sort of coach, he had a jersey on. "Hello." Brendon felt awkward talking right now, he wanted to go home and take a nap. He was exhausted, couldn't Ryan drive him home? He wouldn't mind, but then again that could make things weird. He didn't need that right now. The coach started asking random questions, he seemed to have a motive. Brendon could smell it on him, desperation. He felt sick at the thought that he was about to get coaxed into something he didn't want to do. He answered all the, "How old are you?" and "Where are you from?" questions. Those were easy, but clearly, there was something else this middle-aged man wanted.

"Hey, do you play baseball?" The question made Brendon think. He did play a little bit of baseball, he had a decent catch, and he was on a team at one point, but he wouldn't call himself good at it. It's just a game you play with your father to make him feel proud for a few minutes before it goes to not speaking for months on end because there was never a connection. "Sorta." He mumbled a bit looking out the door hoping his father would show up soon. He checked his watch and it was almost six, what could be keeping this man? "Sorta isn't an answer, it's either yes or no." Was it legal for an adult to pester a minor like this? Probably not, but you can't be mad at someone's determination. "I mean I'm not what you call a good player. I play with my dad sometimes, I played a few little league games in middle school." Sometimes as in maybe once a year at Thanksgiving. The little league games were just something to make his father stop nagging him about how much of a sissy he was. "Well, kid, just knowing the game makes you a player...." Brendon ignored the coach. He took the piece of paper he was handed and the coach stopped pestering. He looked at the sheet. It had those low-quality graphics of baseballs and bats. Why would a coach beg for a senior to play baseball? That made no sense, it would make more sense to get a freshman. Someone who would be here for longer, someone colleges would look at. It made no sense, maybe it was the fact he looked young, but he told the man he was nearing eighteen in a year.

Whatever his intentions were, Bren could care less about them. His father finally showed up. He looked pissed, but when did he not. "How was school?" Boyd never made eye contact with his son. They were parked, so it wasn't like he needed to watch the road. "Good." Brendon knew this game so he would play it, he made no effort to connect, they both liked it that way. The ride home was quiet and cold. At least, Brendon had time to think about the whole baseball thing. Suddenly when he was now in the driveway of his home he had a sudden urge to tell the coach he would do it. Anything to not be home. His father got out of the car first, leaving Brendon by himself again. The sense of dread of moving away came back, but at least it wasn't the other thoughts. He went inside, his mother made some sort of casserole for dinner. He missed his older sister, she made a great casserole for someone who couldn't cook all that well. The sudden feeling of homesickness made him want to call Bill, but that would be an expensive long-distance call. They didn't have money like that anymore, and even if they did have it. Boyd wouldn't waste his hard-earned money on some phone call to Hawaii to a kid he didn't like all that much.

He skipped dinner, he felt too sick to eat. He slumped onto his bed, every night was ending the same. Either he would write letters to people he would never send, or just cry about his misfortune. He looked outside his window, to see a very frustrated Ryan on his front steps. An old-looking man was yelling at him from the door. Whatever was going on wasn't his business, but he felt obligated to look. He opened his window to hear what was going on. Something about alcohol and a missing mother. Ryan looked right at Brendon, piercing his soul for a second. He moved away from the window, he made it awkward, didn't he? He closed his curtains, he would pretend he wasn't being all nosy just a second ago. He needed something to distract himself, so back to the baseball enrollment paper it was.

He read the paper four or five times before thinking about asking his parents what they thought. Then he remembered he didn't want to see them at all right now. He wanted to be bitter and angry for a little bit more. It was his God... well his given right to be that way. He decided to let his parents decide and make them think he was getting over it. He didn't know when to mention it, he didn't want to go back to them. They were probably watching some soap opera that was god-awful. He got up from the bed and went back to his window, opened it again, Ryan was still screaming at his old man. It was illegible, at this point, it sounded like some sort of animal. Whatever he was mad about made him crazy. His father was just screaming back, bottle in hand. It was empty because it was practically shattered. It was kinda sick to watch, so Brendon closed the window again. This time he was undetected. Thank whoever he had to thank for that. He grabbed the paper again, it was go time.

He came to the living room to see his father and mother on the phone. It was never a good sign when they were on the phone. The last time he saw them on the phone together was when Boyd first lost his job, that was when everything was forced to change. He stood there awkwardly for a bit, but he was greeted with a smile once the phone was hung up. He didn't bother to ask what the call was about, he didn't care. "Hey, I got this flyer while waiting for you at school. Wondering what you think of it." He handed the sign-up sheet to his dad. His father examined the page almost like it was the Bible. He was soaking it in.

"You should do it."