"Stick close to me, Dwayne." I said to my little 5 year old brother as I held onto his hand. I must say, it's hard going through an airport alone with a little kid. Why am I doing this, you may ask. Well I grew up in a...rather dangerous place. My mom could never get the money to move us somewhere better.
It crossed the line when there was a shooting and our neighbors got killed. My mother's first instinct was to have us live with our aunt in San Fernando Valley. Unfortunately, she could only afford to move Dwayne and I out there.
We waited outside with our bags for our aunt to come pick us up. After about 10 minutes of standing around and tugging Deayne away from strangers that he was trying to talk to, our aunt pulled up in her Pintiac Grand Prix.
I opened the door to the backseat, picked up Dwayne, and sat in the car. I put Dwayne in the seat next to me and buckled him up.
"Hey aunt Sarah." I said. She turned around to look at Dwayne and I. "Hey sweetheart. How are you holding up?" She asked. I shrugged my shoulders. "Okay I guess." I replied. I looked over at Dwayne who was already sleeping with his head resting in my lap.
I looked out the window and watched as the buildings passed by. Some were familiar, and others were new sights. I've been here once before, but this is Dwayne's first time. Usually it's our aunt Sarah who comes and visits us.
20 minutes seemed like an eternity, but we arrived at her house. I picked up Dwayne and carried him inside, laying him on the couch as he slept.
"Did the movers bring our stuff yet?" I asked as my aunt and I brought suitcases in. Our mother thought that it'd be a good idea if we got to have our stuff like our beds and dressers since aunt Sarah doesn't have any of that. So she sent out a moving truck with all of our big stuff in it and things that needed to be packed in boxes.
"Yes it arrived yesterday. Your bed, dresser, bookshelves, trophy shelf and bedside table are already in your room. Over there are the boxes. Your stuff has your name on it, and Dwayne's has his name on it." I nodded and grabbed a few boxes, carrying then to my room.
I started unpacking things. My record player along with my vinyls of The Beatles (my absolute favorite band), 7 years worth of little league baseball trophies, a bat signed by Babe Ruth, given to me by my grandfather, and a couple of other things.
I then took out the picture of me and my older brother, Kurt. It was taken three years ago, when he was 18 and I was 9. Right before he went off to serve in the army. I placed the picture on my bedside table.
After unpacking the majority of my things, I walked into the kitchen where my aunt was standing.
"If you want you can walk around town and check it out. There's a pool not too far from here, I think there's a theatre a couple of blocks down, and there's this cool little shop called Vincent's Drug Store. It has lots of nice stuff, including baseballs, and I know how much you're into that stuff." She explained. My eyes lit up at the word, 'baseball.'
"Uh, is there any more baseball related stuff here?" I ased. My aunt pursed her lips. 'Yes, well, no nevermind." She said. "You can tell me." I said. She sighed. "Right across the street is and old sandlot," She started. I smiled. I've never seen an actual sandlot before, only dreamed of them. "But this grip of boys always go there, and I'd rather you stay away from them." She said. My smile faded.
"Oh. Okay." I said. I walked to my room and flopped on my bed with a sigh. I heard yelling outside, so I got up and looked out my window. A group of boys were running around on the street. I smiled and chuckled a little. One of them looked over and saw me. He had light brown hair, and a baseball shirt with red sleeves. I waved and he did the 'sup' nod before jacking around with his friends some more.
They all ran over to this old fence that's across the street. One by one they all entered through the fence. I guess the bottom half of one of the fence posts wasn't fully attached, so they all could lift up the post, go through the hole, and the post would fall back to its original spot when hey let go of it.
I sighed and flopped on my bed, once again.
YOU ARE READING
Girls Can Play Ball, Too
Fanfiction"Baseball is my life, man. It's the thing I do. It's the air I breathe. It's the blood that pumps through my veins and keeps me alive. Sure, I'm a girl, but that doesn't make a difference on how I look at baseball. It's just how I roll I guess."
