Rained Out (Kris Bryant)

4

The storm was getting worse as the day progressed. Jeff was extremely upset that he wasn't able to watch any games on their old T.V. Margret's daughter, Josalynn, kept on making faces at me from where she was on Ed's lap. Ed read a book as Margret sat next to me, talking to me and yelling at Jeff to stop his moping.

It was around noon at this time. The game starts in an hour and twenty minutes. Personally, I feel guilty for not being there, but there is no way that I'll be able to get there.

"Kris, if you could, would you go into the basemen with Jefferson to hit some baseballs? I bet that will make him extremely happy and stop his moping." I could tell that she was getting tired of her son acting out just because he couldn't watch baseball. Any parent probably would be annoyed of that.

I know that I was exactly the same as Jeff when I was that age. If I wasn't at school or playing baseball, I'd be watching baseball. I did annoy my parents all the time because of that, but they were proud to have a kid that knew what he wanted in his life, even if my mother, especially, thought it may be a long shot for making it to where I was at.

"Sure, I'll love that," I stood up and followed Jeff down the hall and down the stairs.

Jeff turned on the light and there in their basement was a batting cage. "Grandpa built it for me for my fifth birthday because I annoyed them enough during the winter."

"This looks amazing. He did a great job, but do you want to start hitting or not?" I asked, making him smile and jump right into the cage with his bat in hand. I got into the cage as well, grabbing the bucket of waffle balls to help with loading the tee for him. I was surprised to find that Jeff was standing in the left batter's box.

Jeff quickly went through the entire bucket of ball, sending them through the air and into the back net. Actually, it was a thing a beauty. I defiantly could tell that he's down here every single day swinging his bat. "So, how was that?" he asked smiling at me. I guess he's a lefty with a whole lot of power.

"Impressive, you might just take my job in a couple of years." He looked at me and smiled as he started to pick up the balls. I jogged over by him to start helping him out.

When we were all done, he handed me the bat. I grabbed it willingly and went into the right batter's box. The ball after ball, they went sailing very hard. I could tell that Jeff was in shock about what I could do. "All of them... all of them would have been out of the park! How do you do that?"

"Grow up, get stronger, and keep on practicing," I told him with a bright smile. "So what position do you play?"

"Anywhere, even pitching and catching! I love everywhere!" For some reason that comment made me think of me. When I was younger, and kind of still now, I loved playing anywhere on the diamond. Pitching, however, was the only thing that I never wanted to try, but I was open in doing it need be.

"Do you want to practice pitching, or catching, or ground balls? Anything that you want to do, or do you just want to bat more?" I asked as we was picked up the balls once more. Everything in the room was quiet except for the waffle balls plumping into the bucket. I was taking the silence as Jeff was thinking about what he wanted to do, but he didn't answer for quite a while. I didn't know what to think about the silence. "What are you thinking, Jeff?"

"You can't stay forever, can you? You're going to leave and forget about us here, aren't you?" I don't know what brought that on, but I knew that I had to be truthful. Lying would just make the situation even worse.

"No, I cannot stay, but I won't forget about you. If your mom would allow you, I'll let you guys come to Wrigley and meet the team, and maybe if it's the right time we might me about to go to a White Sox, Tiger game, if you'd like. You and your family saved my life, and I'll never be able to pay you back for that. I'll never forget about all your guys' generosity, and your love for baseball."

Jeff's face lite up, and he hugged me. A smile beamed off of my lip, knowing that I was being one hundred percent truthful. "Okay, I want to pitch. Will you be my catcher or be the pretend batter?" he said at once, once he let go of me and sprinted to grab his glove and a ball.

"I'll catch, but do you have a second glove. I bet you throw extremely hard, so I can't catch with my bare hands."

He looked at me and thought. "Yeah, your right, I can throw hard, or that's just something Gramps always tell me. I'll let you use his glove, but don't tell him. It's ancient!" he quietly yelled before he ran from bin to bin, bucket to bucket, until he finally found it. I couldn't help but to laugh at him running around being extremely excited. I'd be the exactly same if I was in his shoes.

We threw the ball back and forth, warming up, before he actually started to pitch. He was really descent, and maybe when he gets older he could be good enough to pitch in college and maybe in the Majors. I'd love to see the day once he makes it there.

"Alright, now you got to be the batter. Go on, I won't hit you!" he yelled, making me smile. I carefully took the antique glove off and put it on one of the buckets. I walked slowly to the "batter's box", much to Jeff's dismay. "Come on," he whined finally since I was talking forever.

I stepped in almost as soon as he said that. He threw five to six pitches before he hit me. He literally hit me right in my side. It wasn't like it was thrown at ninety to hundred miles per hour, but he still hit me. I charged the mound and grabbed Jeff and put him on my shoulder, and I carried him, making sure that I shut the basement light off in the process, all the way up to the living room where his whole family was in.

Jeff was laughing his head off as I dropped him, nicely, onto the floor. Margret looked at me questionably, so I just plainly said, "This is what he gets for hitting me with a pitch. You're lucky, young man, that I didn't decide to tickle you for pulling that." After I said that, everyone in the room including me was lost in laughter.