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fly ball

Excerpt from the novel, “A Friend Request,” by C. L. Gillmore

CL Gillmore and catching a ball
A texting conversation between Jake and Rose…
“Damn it, Jake!”“Does that mean we’re still fighting?”“Yes…I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

“Okay. You’re sexy as hell when you’re mad.”

“Shit. You don’t fight fair, Jake.”

“I know. It’s a childhood thingy. Don’t fight much at all…not very competitive either…used to play with mini-cars out on second base when I was supposed to be catching fly balls and sending them home. Never was concerned with crossing home plate or finishing first…more fun just playing around…checking out the scenery.”

“Yes, I can see that…are we still talking about baseball?”

“You are.”

Finishing first…an interesting choice of words.

I pictured Jake and his older brother as little boys on the baseball field and wondered if the little boys who weren’t very competitive made better lovers later on?

The little boys who skipped stones, played in sandboxes and drove mini-cars over second base. The boys who listened to music, played guitars and joined bands. Were their heads filled with dreams and far away places instead of rules for first place finishes?

Were the competitive little boys, with all the right equipment, so obsessed with being first they missed the scenery rounding the bases in favor of a quick slide home?

Based solely on Jake, I pictured the skipping stones, band boys digging mini-cars out of their pockets and driving back and forth over second base while fly balls flew into the wild blue yonder. Eventually they meandered across the finish line, sometimes sitting on home plate to look around.

As a young man and lover, I remembered how much Jake enjoyed touching, playing and checking things out. He loved to look at the scenery and never seemed to be in a hurry. He covered all the bases before moving toward home plate…and he never crossed the finish line first.