The Hitting Zone

Noah was stunned. "But you have a glove! And you bat so well! Any team would die to have you in their lineup! How are we going to get you on the varsity team with me? Have you practiced fielding and throwing at all? Do you know positions?"

I just shrugged in response. He was asking so many questions; I didn't know where to start.

He frowned. "Let's start with hitting. You can obviously do that. Have you ever hit off a pitcher? A real pitcher?"

I shook my head no. At my middle school I was only allowed to use the batting cage.

"Okay. Moving on to throwing. Can you throw a baseball?" I rolled my eyes. Of course I threw the ball around with friends at school. "Just checking. Geez, so much attitude. How about fielding?"

I looked away.

"Really, Jake? What's with that response?" Noah grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. "What do you know about fielding?"

"Throw to first." I mumbled.

Noah hands fell, "Oh lord. So you don't know anything about positioning?"

"I know where each position is?"

"Have you never seen a game? Or participated in a scrimmage? Damn, did you even have a childhood."

I flinched and my eyes started to sting. I moved away from Noah and his hurtful words. There wasn't anywhere I could go, so I climbed the bunk bed and got under the covers. I hid all the way under as I start to cry silently.

"Jake? Jake??" Noah shook my bed. "Are you sick? Should I go get mom? Hold on!" I head him run out of the room.

I didn't want his mom. Or mine. Or any mom for that matter. I just wanted to be alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOAH:

Noah ran downstairs to fetch his mom. He had never seen someone cry so suddenly without something being wrong. "Mom! Where are you?! I need you!"

"Dining room!" She answered.

Noah ran through the living room, passed the office, and arrived in the dining room. Surprisingly the man that brought Jake was there with her. "I think something's wrong with Jake, mom! He started crying and is hiding under the covers now."

"Oh? What happened before that?" She asked.

"We we're talking about baseball. That's it."

The man sighed. "I'm shocked that he even would talk to you at all. Let alone about baseball. Have a seat, Noah. Let's talk about Jake for a minute."

Noah looked at him suspiciously, but with a quick glare from his mom, he sat down. "What's there to talk about?"

"You know that your parents take in a foster kid every now and then right?" The man asked. "Jake is a ward of the state. He was removed from his mom's custody for abuse."

Noah looked concerned. "His mom hit him?"

The man nodded. "Among other things, yes."

Noah looked nervous and guilty. "I probably made him cry then. I asked if he even had a childhood right before he started to cry. But it was a joke cuz he didn't know anything about baseball!"

The man gave him a tight smile. "Jakes mom didn't let him play baseball. It was taboo. So he's probably having conflicting thoughts and feelings about playing and being around others who play."

"What should we do then?" Noah asked worriedly.

"All we can do is be here for him. Be supportive." His mom smiled gently. "Let him cry it out for a few minutes before your brothers come home. Then we can all have dinner together. Jake just needs time to adjust."

"I'm worried about you and your husband the most. Jake has no experience with real parenting so he might be hard to handle at times." The man said.

"Ridiculous." She brushed it off. "It's because he has no knowledge, that he's so well behaved. I'd be more comfortable if he went wild like my other boys. We'll play everything by ear for now."