Nine

Part 2

That’s when I first hear her. Well, the first time I hear her since she’s been gone. It’s not a voice in the crowd as I feared, but a whisper by my ear. Let’s go, Honey. I stop on the mound, close my eyes and pound the ball into my glove to bring myself back to now. Back to real. She used to yell that above everyone else. I used to hate it. My first pitch sails away so high that Jimmy needs to stand up to catch it. He tosses it back and my eyes are blurred. I try to focus on his target. Set. Windup. Hurl. It’s in the dirt. Dammit. I take the ball back and kick at the rubber. I try to squash the conflict in my mind. I will the whisper to come back. I force my ears closed. I don’t know what I want. Set. Windup. Hurl. The batter takes a step then twists away as my fastball runs in and hits him in the back. Fuck. Jimmy collects a new ball and jogs out to the mound.

“You alright?” he asks covering his mouth with his glove out of habit.

“Yeah. Slipped.” My answer is lame.

“Really? Cause all of the sudden you don’t seem to be here.”

“Nope, I’m good.” I need to be good.

“’K, com’on then, stay with me.” He pushes the ball into my glove and swats me on my arm. I suck in the air around me and sigh it out. There are no whispers. I watch Jimmy’s signs and fall still. Set. FOCUS. Windup. Hurl. Strike. Set. Focus. Windup. Hurl. Strike. Set. Focus. Windup. Hurl. The ball flies back past me skimming the turf. The shortstop pounces on it and tosses it to second, then onto first. Two out, nobody on. Just like that my mistake is erased. Undone. Expunged. Just like that.

I find Jimmy’s target again, watch his fingers dance and nod in agreement. My fastball catches the outside plate and the umpire calls a strike. The second pitch misses inside, but the third sinks over the plate. The batter can’t resist and his swing sends the ball high to Carter in right field. Easy catch and I’m headed back to the dugout. I strain my ears to listen. The Creature rustles and murmurs in the crowd but her voice, her whisper, is silent in my ear.

Silence might be the worst. Silence so profound my ears pain from the strain to penetrate it. I came back to our house early in the morning after that night. The stillness was physical. Dirty dishes from our dinner lay forgotten in the sink. Her jacket tossed over the chair. Our house had been silent before; lazy Sunday afternoons when we shut up in the den against the cold weather, curled together on the couch reading or napping. It had been silent then. Or in the middle of the night when I woke in the dark. The streetlight outside our window cast a glow on our bed. She didn’t snore. Her breathing was light. The house was silent. A safe, comfortable silence that surrounded us together tucked away from the world.

But that morning the silence was dark, heavy and menacing. It was smothering and cold. I walked from room to room, seeking an escape. I turned on the radio in the kitchen, the TV in the living room. Competing voices filled the air but the silence still pressed against me. I ended up in our bedroom, redialing her cell number. “Hey, I probably forgot to turn this on so leave a message…” Beep. Click. Dial.

“You ready?” the Manager gave my shoulder a nudge. Around me the team was shuffling out to the field again.

“Yeah,” I blinked and stood to leave. He caught my arm.