Date: Sun, 13 Oct 2002 17:30:15 -0400 From: Jeff Wilson Subject: W.A.R. Chapter 10 Your Word of Warning: Get ready... W.A.R. Part One: Black Summer Chapter Ten- Then the Next... by Jeff Wilson Last game of the season! While I had enjoyed being scorekeeper, it was time to end the summer baseball season. The mid July heat was unbearable. I just hate Triple H days; Hazy, Hot and Humid. My eye was almost back to normal. The swelling was gone, but the black eye was lasting longer than I had hoped. Three weeks and I still had a faint bruise which I had to explain to everyone I met. At least it's fading away. I still look like half of a raccoon though. I still wore my team shirt with my number 21 on it. I didn't have to, but I wanted to show that I was still a part of the team. One of the funny things that happened after my first game as scorekeeper was the coach told me to initial the book. I saw that his wife had used all three initials, so I put down mine: W. A. R. After that, the coach stopped calling me Will and started calling me War. Before long, it became my official team nickname as everyone on the team was calling me it. I liked it though, it was something unique. We were going to win again. League Champions at 26 wins, 3 losses. In fact they hadn't lost since the Black Eye Incident. Some people said my black eye must have brought the team luck. I think it's because I'm not out there to screw it all up. "Hey War, isn't that your dad?" That was Dustin Smith, our second baseman. He had just struck out. Dustin is a nice guy. He's thirteen too. He's a red headed boy and proud of it. I tell you, no one spends as much time fixing their hair as Dustin does. But anyway, I looked to see who he was talking about. It couldn't be my dad. "Nah, he wouldn't be here just to watch me keep score." I watched as my dad made his way to our side of the field. Now, I had practically begged my dad to come to one of these games when I was playing and he never showed up. So why would he come now, at the end, when I was just sitting there keeping score? "It's him alright. I wonder what he wants." My dad made it to our dugout and talked with Coach, who said to me, "Billy, you need to go with your dad, right now." Uh, oh. This was not good. Not only had the coach called me Billy, and not War, but he also wanted me to leave in the middle of the game. I wondered if I was in trouble. I could see that my dad was very distressed. I walked out of the dugout and met him along the side. "What's up, dad?" "Billy, it's your grandma." "What about her, is she alright?" "She had a heart attack, Billy. They took her to the hospital..." "Well let's go..." "Billy, I don't know how to tell you this son... She's...She didn't make it..." "What do you mean... didn't make it?" "She's gone, Billy." "No. No she's not. That's not even funny, dad. She's been getting better... She was fine this morning dad. She was perfectly fine! What do you mean she's gone? She was fine this morning!" "Billy..." My dad was coming toward me. "NO!! Don't touch me!!! She's fine dad! She was getting better! She was... She was... I have to sit down, my eye hurts." That's the last thing I remember before waking up with a bunch of people looking down at me. "AreyouokayyouareyouokayyouareBilly? Billy!" "What?" My dad's voice came through, "I said are you okay?" "I think so... What happened?" "You fainted." "Oh... Dad, is grandma gone?" "She's gone Billy... I'm sorry." Something was wrong. I couldn't cry. I couldn't. I wanted to, but I couldn't. Everything felt really hot, but there were no tears. I just sat there, stunned. The people went back to watching the game, but I sat there while someone brought me something to drink. After I felt better, we walked to dad's car. We drove home in silence. Why couldn't I cry? When we arrived at the house, there were already people there. Cousins, aunts, uncles. Friends of the family, people from the church. There were all kinds of people there, all of them gave me hugs and told me that everything was going to be alright. Everyone told me what a brave boy I was. I didn't feel brave. I didn't even feel sad. In fact, I didn't feel anything. It was like I was numb. My mother was crying. She was surrounded by friends supporting her. She was terribly sad. I wanted to hug her, but I didn't. I wanted to feel sad for her, but I didn't. I didn't feel anything, just...empty. I left my house and walked across the street, over to my grandma's house. Maybe there I could feel something. I was ready to open the door with my key, but it wasn't locked. There were people there too. More family members. More neighbors. They were all quick to tell me how brave I was and how proud they were of me. I didn't even care. There was my deck of cards on the table. I took them home with me. All evening long, people came and went. They told me how proud they were of me and how brave I was. Some asked me how I got a black eye. Others told me I was getting tall. There were others who brought food. So I ate. I didn't want to eat, but I did. I wanted to cry, but I didn't. Something wasn't working right inside me. Like I broke something inside me... That was one of the longest days of my life. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Eventually, the guests started to disappear. My mom finally found me and hugged me while crying for about ten minutes. I didn't cry though... I just held her. My aunt and uncle and their two boys would be staying until after the funeral. My aunt was a lawyer and would be taking care of some things. The boys would be staying in my room with me. I didn't want them there, but I didn't say anything. Come to think of it, I hadn't said anything for hours. People had talked to me, hugged me, and said how brave I was, but I hadn't said a word since we left the ballpark. Finally, I did say something. Something profound, something startling: "I'm going to bed, goodnight." I went to my room and lay down on my bed. I laid on my side and held on to my knees. I wasn't supposed to lie on my side, but I did. I wasn't sad, I wasn't angry. I was just there. It was like living some bad dream. A dream that I couldn't wake up from. Then something hit me. We had been visited by lots of family. I had seen lots of friends. I had seen all kinds of neighbors. I had seen people who I didn't even know. But there was somebody who I hadn't seen that day. I was beginning to feel an emotion again. It was not sadness I was feeling, it was anger. Because when I thought about it, there was somebody missing that day. Somebody who I had needed more than ever... Where was Brett? I fell into a troubled sleep. That's Chapter 10. Not an easy chapter by any means, but necessary. It was my intention from the very beginning, and the signs have been there. A grandparent's death is a crucial event in most people's lives during their early years. The question is how we deal with it. We'll see how Billy will deal with all this in Chapter 11. Chapter 11 will be the last one in Part One. Then we'll move on to Part Two. Send correspondence to: vicioussquirrel@hotmail.com See you next time!