The Keeper of Wickets

The Baggy Green

Dylan and I peer our the window of our apartment on O'Connell street. Leaving Dad behind was one of the hardest things I have ever done. There were lots of tears shed that day, but I had to do it, I had to continue to become my own person.
Plus Dylan driving all the way to Echidna creek was getting quite expensive.

Peering out our front window we watch the postie place letters into the PO boxes downstairs. We watch him jump on his bike and tear back down the street. We scramble from the window and bolt down the stairs, two at a time. Shoving each other through the automatic door, we find ourselves face to face with our mail box.
'Open the bloody thing, you have the key.' Dylan puts his fingers to his lips, he always bites his nails when he is nervous. I turn the key in the lock and take out the oodles of mail inside. I flick through the letters until I find two from cricket Australia. One addressed to me and the other to Dylan.
I hand him his and take mine, dropping all the other letters on the ground.
The tearing envelope sends shivers of excitement racing down our arms forcing our finger tips to reveal the two pieces of paper that are lodged inside.
Dylan and I stand stiff, our mouths gaping open, absolutely astonished about the fact that the two of us were playing cricket for Australia.

'Oh my god! Dylan!' I scream, jumping into his arms as he swings me around with endless amounts of happiness pulsating from our bodies. I am itching to pick up my bat, to pull on my gloves and prove that the decision made, was a good one.

Standing in front of the Chappell brothers, three of South Australia's greatest Cricketers was more surreal than holding the baggy green cap in my hand.
'It's brilliant to see South Australian's paving the way for Australian men and women's cricket, we can't wait to see how you play in Australian conditions.' Trevor commends.
'The test matches you will play, will test not only your cricketing skill but your concentration, you're determination and you're drive to be the best person and cricketer you can be.' Greg explains, Dylan clasps my hand in his. Ian notices and he smiles.
'The three of us and the rest of Australia, wish you both all the best, we are all very grateful to have two very outgoing, humerus and loveable players in our family so to speak, so welcome to the team, we can't wait to see where the opportunities you'll be blessed with will take you, so congratulations and we hope this memory stays with you for the rest of your life.' Ian shakes both of our hands, as applauds and cheers erupt from the two teams, the officials and the fans that line the boundary of adelaide oval.
My Dad stands in front of us, his chest puffed out and pride written all over his face. I had achieved the ultimate goal, for him and my mum.

'She would be so proud of you.' Dad takes me in his arms, my ear resting against the necklace that hung around his neck, Mum's picture locked inside next to his heart.
'Yeah, I know.' I reply, looking up at him.
'I don't know what I'm going to do with both of you playing for Australia.' Dad laughs.
'You'll work something out.' I chuckle pulling away and jumping into the arms of Dylan.
I press my lips against his as the cameras went off.
'We've done it my darling.' He whispers setting me on the ground. His eyes never left mine as he drops to his knee.
'No! You're not?! You cliché!' I feel myself bite my lip as tears begin to form.
'My beautiful wicket keeper, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?' Dylan's loving glance left me no choice.
'Is that even a question?' I ask. 'Yes Dylan!'
He rises to his feet and cups my face before kissing me passionately.
-
'Alright well we're going down the beach, get your shit together.' Dylan orders as I step into the kitchen late that afternoon.
'The beach why?' I ask, groggily.
'Because I need some water time.' He sigh, grabbing his board shorts from the top draw of our dresser.

Dylan had lived on the West Coast of South Australia his whole life. He could surf exceptionally, in fact if he wasn't playing cricket, I think he'd be surfing.
Now, it was a three hour drive to the beach for me so I didn't spend a lot of time in the water, But sitting in the soft sand of Boomer beach, I couldn't help but think that maybe I could get used to watching the waves and the man riding them.

The salty human that the waves has finally washed in, emerges with a smile bigger than any I had ever seen before. He stands still and sighs, his eyes focusing on me.
'What?' I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.
'Oh nothing,' he begins. 'Just wondering how I got so lucky.'
I chuckle at his statement, 'you're not that-'
'the most beautiful, the most talented and most kind hearted woman in the world loves me.' He scoffs.
'How do you know I love you?' I question, as Dylan steps closer to me. He stands over me, sea water dripping onto my legs. He bends down and presses his lips against mine, his strong hand behind my neck pushing me further into the beautiful kiss.
Dylan pulls away and leans our foreheads together, his hand not leaving my neck.
'I know you love me because I can kiss you like that and I can feel your pulse, you kiss me back and you shiver every time I touch you.' He whispers, the warmth of his skin hitting my cheek as the cool air swarms around us.
'You take my breath away.' I tell him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him as he pushes me into the sand.