Brotherhood of Six

JAXTON

Strikeout: an out called when a batter accumulates three strikes

It’s the last day of another school year. I’ve been coaching and teaching for ten years, and I never get tired of it.

The only thing I get tired of is having to find a new player every summer because one of my players decided that they don’t have to either keep their grades up or they decide that they are above drug tests.

I have two rules to be on my teams. One, no drugs, and two, grades need to be a C or higher.

This year, I have to replace my pitcher before tomorrow night because Mr. Dawson decided to slack off the last two weeks of senior year.

I have given him three chances to get his grades up to at least a C, but he thought being a senior would make him exempt from that rule.

Three strikes with me, and you’re out. He just struck out. Now, I’m waiting in my office to inform him of what his actions have come to.

As I’m going over the roster for the team, my office phone rings. “Hello?” I answer.

“Coach Stark, how are you doing? Listen, I have something I need to ask.” I recognize Coach Tanner from Tennessee on the line.

We’ve been good friends for years. I met him at a conference my first year, and we both just stuck together since we were both new to the game.

“What’s that, Tanner?”

There is a knock on my door, and I see Mr. Dawson through the window. I wave him in and point toward the chair in front of my desk.

“I just lost my best pitcher today,” Tanner says. “He, his mom, and two sisters are moving down to your area and will be going to your school. I was wondering if you could find a place on the team for him.”

From my lips to God’s ears. Although, we’ve been practicing for weeks now, and I was just going to use one of my players.

“I don’t know, Tanner. Tryouts are done and over,” I state.

“Yeah, I understand. Thought I’d ask. He’s going through quite a bit with his folks, and he’s one of my best players. Just think about it,” he says.

“Look, Tanner, I’ll think about it and meet this boy. What’s his name?” If he’s as good as Tanner says, then he’d be a better option than one of my players here.

“Bellamine White,” he replies.

“Look, I got to go. One of my players is waiting for me in my office, but I’ll give him a chance.”

He’s a damn good pitcher from what I’ve seen. He’s going to make it big, and I can’t let someone that good not have a shot of following his dreams.

If I’m the one to help him on his journey to make it to the big leagues, then that’s an added bonus.

“All right, Stark. Catch you later. Thanks again. I know he’s been upset since he found out he had to move.

“Hell, all the kids are upset about having to wait for the next school year for the sports and activities they take part in. Anyways, I’ll yak at you later,” he says before disconnecting the call.

I turn to my pitcher, Mr. Dawson, sitting in front of me. “I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Uh, yeah. Coach, look, I’ve been trying to get my grades up,” he explains, but I hold my hand up to stop him.

He’s had all year to make sure his grades stay up but decided to let it get to the point of no return. Even after I told him what would happen, he ignored it and went about what he thought was best.

“If you’re not going to tell me the truth, then don’t bother speaking at all. You know my two rules. You know I only give a person three chances to change. You used your last chance, and you struck out. You’re benched,” I state.

“But, Coach! Scouts are going to be here this year!” he exclaims.

“You should have thought of that before you decided that partying with your friends was better than keeping your grades up. Now, get back to class.”

He huffs and storms out of the room. Sometimes, you just have to play the bad guy.

I gave him the chance to change this outcome. He knew it was coming and didn’t do a thing to change the outcome. At least I have a pitcher to cover the game tomorrow.

I’ve seen Bellamine play on the DVDs I get sent. That boy could very well go pro if he put the work into it, and I’ll be damned if I let that talent go to waste.

I need to see where he lives and pay him a visit. If they’re moving into this school district, there should be a file on them already for the next school year.

I found their information before I came to my last class of the day and year.

Turns out, they’re moving in right between me and my brother, Emerson.

I’m the oldest of six boys. My brothers and I all live in the same subdivision. It goes me, Emerson, Lincoln, Carson, Trenton, then the baby being Quincey.

My students are sitting on the bleachers waiting for me when I arrive. They’re probably hoping for an easy day of doing nothing, but that won’t be happening.

“Hello, class. You guys ready for the school year to be over?”

I get hoots and hollers in response. “Good, good. Well, we can start this class off by everyone getting changed into their gym attire.”

I get a lot of groans and just shake my head. “I mean, if you all want to groan and complain, I can make today just like every other class we’ve had the rest of the year.”

That got them going. I’m not a complete monster. I’ll take it easy on them.

Five minutes before the final bell, I blow my whistle.

“See? That wasn’t that bad, was it? Just some laps and then kickball. We have about five minutes before the day ends, so I won’t keep you long.

“I need the baseball guys here tomorrow morning at eight sharp for practice before the first game. The rest of you, enjoy your summer. Go get changed and head home.”

With that everyone leaves to change and head out. Now, I just need to call and get my pitcher.

I head to my office and sit at my desk before looking up Bellamine White’s contact information. His mother is the only contact. Wonder what happened to the dad? I ask myself while I dial the number.

His mother picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

Where have I heard that voice from?

“Hello. This is Coach Stark from Hanover High. I’m calling because Coach Tanner called me today asking if I could add your son to my team. I’m aware of his reputation and have found myself needing a pitcher for the season.”

“Which Stark are you?” she asks.

Weird question, but I’ll bite. “Jaxton,” I reply.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Small world. I went to school with Emerson. White is my married name. Well, used to be my married name. My maiden name was Stone.”

That’s why her voice sounded so familiar! Damn, if she’s as beautiful as she was back then, I’m going to be in trouble.

“Yeah, you left when you turned eighteen to be with Eric when he joined the military,” I muse.

“Unfortunately. Anyways, Bell has been upset with having to move because he would have to miss the season. I’m sure he’d be ecstatic to play. We should be in Hanover by eleven, hopefully. I’ll let him know.”

I wonder what she meant by that first comment. Obviously, something went down, or she wouldn’t be moving back here.

“We have a practice at eight in the morning. I’ll need him at the school by then,” I say.

“Okay. I’ll call him when I get off the phone with you. I need to get off here so I can drive. Thank you for giving him a chance. I know he’ll be happy. It’s been a hard transition for my kids. They all love their sports.”

“I understand that. Stay safe, and I’ll see you around,” I say before disconnecting the call. Time to head home.

The drive home doesn’t take more than ten minutes. I pull in my driveway and head inside to put my stuff away. Emerson walks in shortly after.

“Don’t you knock?” I ask.

“Nah. No point. I have a key. We all have keys. You were at work later than normal,” he says.

“Yeah. I had to find a new pitcher since mine decided to say fuck his grades. I talked to Nicole White—used to be Stone. She and her kids are moving in next door between you and me,” I tell him.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Haven’t seen her in, what? Fifteen years? She left after we graduated,” he says.

“Yeah. Small world.” I mutter before going to my fridge to get us each a cold one. I can’t get the image of the girl I used to know out of my head.

“Dude, you’re still in love with her, aren’t you?” Emerson asks, and I don’t answer. I hand one of the beers to him. “You are. Brother, you’re in some trouble.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. Anyways, she’ll be here around eleven. You guys want to catch a game or something?”

He nods, and we head out to get the rest of our brothers before going to the local sports bar.

I can’t believe the girl I let get away is actually going to be moving in next door. Who would have thought? Maybe I still have a chance. I guess we’ll just have to see how things go.

Obviously, she’s had to have gone through some shit to be coming back to this small ass town, but I let her get away once. I’m not going to do it again.

We arrive at Patrick’s Sports Bar and find our usual table. “Well, brothers, Jaxton here is getting a second chance at getting the one that got away,” Emerson says as we get to our usual table.

We come here a few times a week. Mainly on the weekends, but there are times during the week that we don’t feel like cooking at home—we come here and get something to eat while drinking a few cold ones.

“No shit?” Lincoln asks.

“Yeah. She’s moving into the place between me and Emerson. I’m not sure what happened or if I even still have a shot. I didn’t have much of a shot when we were in school.

“Not only was she two years younger, but she was always with Eric White. She followed him to Tennessee after she graduated when he joined the military,” I state.

My brothers and I don’t keep anything from each other.

“When’s she supposed to be here?” Quin asks.

He’s supposed to be going off for basic in a few weeks since he graduated this year. He’s not supposed to be drinking, but Patrick has known our family for years and doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t get too far gone.

“She said around eleven when I talked to her earlier. She doesn’t know she’s moving into our subdivision, I don’t think. I had to talk to her about her son joining the team since I lost my damn pitcher today,” I inform them.

“Ah, the three-strike rule. Kid didn’t take it seriously, did he?” Trenton asks.

“Nope. Now, he’s pissed because the scouts will be there, and he’s benched for the season. I don’t fuck around with my team and my rules,” I say.

“Oh, we know. Well, how about we catch a game? It’s seven now. We have four hours until the love of your life shows up. We can help her move in and meet the kids.”

We all nod and grab some beers before watching the game.

Soon, I tell myself. ~Soon.~