Wrapped in Rain(98)

Jase unlatched his death grip from Mutt's neck and fell into my arms. "Unca Tuck." The sobs squelched his speech. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with you. Don't let him take me. Please don't let him take me." I squeezed him tight and wondered what kind of man abandons a boy like this. What kind of man abandons any boy? I lifted his snotty and tear-stained face off my shoulder, wrapping both cheeks in my palms. "Hey, partner, nobody is taking you from me. Not today. Not ever. You got that?"

Jase pointed at Trevor. "What about him?"

I looked at Trevor, who was scratching at the dirt and attempting to crawl past Mutt's watchful eye. "They don't allow kids where he's going."

Suspicion and disbelief crossed Jase's face. "But, Unca Tuck, I want to stay here with you. I don't want to go. He"-Jase pointed down at Trevor again-"told me I had to go with him."

'lase, he lied."

"Well," Jase said, putting one arm around my neck and half-sitting on my thigh, "are you lying to me?"

'lase, this is our deal. Right now, you and me are making a pact. I won't ever lie to you, and you don't ever lie to me. Deal?"

Jase nodded. I spit on my hand and held it out to him. Jase looked suspicious again and turned toward the soft footsteps creeping up behind us. Katie knelt next to Jase, kissed his forehead, and said, "Go ahead, Jase." She looked me in the eye and wrapped both arms around Jase. "If Unca Tuck tells you something, you believe it." Jase spat into his palm and squeezed mine. When he locked his frail fingers around mine, the spit oozed out, falling onto the ground. Katie clung to Jase and held him for a few seconds. As she did, the weeks of worry gushed forth followed by the sobs of relief. I grabbed Trevor's cell phone and dialed 911. Trevor objected, but Mutt nudged his leg with the tip of his bat.



Jase let go of Katie's neck, tugged on my leg, and said, "Unca Tuck, I'm not going with him? Right?"

I wrapped him in my arms and squeezed him as hard as I could without hurting him. "Never."

"You promise?"

I sat him on my leg and nodded. "With all of me."

Trevor found the courage to lift himself onto one elbow and sneer at me. "You think you got all the answers, don't you? This isn't over. You may have been some hotshot at one time, but you don't know nothing about baseball, and you certainly don't know anything about being a father." The urge to strike Trevor in the face either with my hand, the bat, or both grew as he hid beneath a smug exterior that told me he had all the right friends in all the right places. But next to me stood Jase, and jase didn't need to see me hit Trevor. He needed something else.

I stepped closer, resting my hand on Trevor's mangled leg. "Let me tell you what I know about baseball." I held out my hand, and Mutt placed the barrel end of the hat into it. I wrapped my other arm around Jase and brushed the tears from his face. When I spoke, I did so tojase, not Trevor. `Baseball is a simple game, really. It's when a little towheaded boy with sweat dripping off his face and bruised shins swings a big stick and knocks a tightly wound leather thing past his dad and through grass that is two days overgrown. He then runs to first base-a towel thrown in the corner of the yard. On to second-maybe that's a spare glove thrown down for the occasion-while Dad tries to tag him. Laughing, the kid rounds thirdnothing but a worn spot where grass won't grow-and heads for home-maybe a bucket turned on its head. All the time, the kid is chased by a dad who is amazed that God actually trusts him with a little boy like this. Winded and sticky with sweat, the boy kicks home plate or slides in exclamation. But it's not over, because the kid then looks to Dad for affirmation. That look is both the beginning and the end. Because"-I gently pointed Jase's chin toward Trevor-"then he asks, `Did I do it right, Daddy? Are you proud, Dad? Do you like spending time with me? Can we do it again?"' I looked at Jase, then back at Trevor. "And think hard before you answer, because it may well determine the path of that boy's soul." I leaned closer, my face just a few inches from Trevor's, and whispered, "And anything other than yes is ..." I stood and held Jase's hand. "Is a crime against every boy ever born." I stood over Trevor and tapped him on the leg. "That is baseball. But more importantly, that's what's at stake here."



The police followed the ambulance toward the hospital with a promise to return later in the day to record our statements. Jase, Katie, and I walked to the house, hand in hand, but said nothing. Dandelions spotted the waisthigh hay as we walked through the pasture. Our feet kicked off the edges and sent wisps of dandelion dancing around our heads and floating downwind. I took a deep breath, squeezed Katie's hand, and thought I caught a whiff of Cornhuskers mixed among the wisps. My body ached, I was limping and could've used a few aspirin, but it was the best I had ever felt in my life. Mutt walked behind, balancing the bat on his shoulder and whistling Johnny Appleseed's song. I'm not sure, but his chest looked a little bigger. Almost swollen.



"Unca Tuck." Jase pulled on my arm.

"Yeah, pal."

"Are the police going to cut off my daddy's you-knowwhats?"

"I don't think so, pal. They'll try a few other things first."

Jase looked satisfied and tugged again. "Unca Tuck?"