the baseball player

"You ready?"

"Yeah, just going to bring some coffee along"

"You said leave by four?"

"Yeah. It's a three hour drive"

"It's ten after, we..."

"...I know, just going to fill this up and throw my shit in the back. I'm ready."

"Alright"

It's dark outside. My body is tired but I'm not. We get in the car, it starts, and we leave. My shit is a green duffle bag. It's in the back. It occurs to me that this is the first time in probably twelve years that I sat passenger side next to my dad. My last memory of this is when I was fifteen years old and he would take me to school two hours early so I could work out. He still drives the same speed, but in a different car.

"Are you hungry, we can stop for something on the way?"

"Not really, but if you want to stop, feel free. I'm going to be gone for a year, so I could give a shit if I'm ten minutes late. Maybe for something to drink."

Everything is quite. My dad never listens to music when he drives. He didn't when I was young and he still doesn't. I do. The talking sounds like an echo, something I'm listening too, although not a part of. But everything is peaceful.

"I saw a Cubs game with your uncle Bob last week"

"Yeah..."

"He's coming up for a Brewers game pretty soon"

"Tell him I said Hi"

"Bobby is turning into one hell of a ball player. Just hitting the skin off the ball"

"How old is he now?"

"Twelve, He's going to be a hell of a..."

"Bob must be pretty excited about that"

"Oh he is, and I saw him play...Bob says he's going to be..."

I like quiet roads and morning fog. I like drizzled settings and long drives. I hate waking up early, but scenes like this are a worthy consolation. I just want to be silent. Just think. My dad is usually the same way, but he wants to talk. We have periods of silence while I watch the quiet city pass. The day hasn't started yet.

"So what did your mom have to say?"

"I don't know...not much, just usual. She was embarrassed to see you last night, that's why she left right away"

"How's she doing?"

"She has a ways to go"

"I would have liked to have said hi to her"

"I know. But she wanted to go"

"I hope she's doing well"

"She has a ways to go"

I'm wide a wake but I'm not even sure if I have a beating pulse. I feel so calm. No worries, no concerns, just distant thoughts. The buildings are being replaced by trees but the day still hasn't started.

"Did I ever tell you about your grandfather and what he did in Germany?"

"Yeah, he was a forward observer"

"He was a forward observer"

"Oh yeah"

"how you would like that job? Someone says to you "Hey take this radio and crawl into enemy territory and then call us back and tell us what you see"

"That's crazy"

"There's a long history military service on that side"

"Does he know I'm getting deployed?"

"Yes"

"What did he say?"

"He said "well, that's what happens..."

I once told Amy, my closest girlfriend, that if we ever went to war that I would probably join the Army. She said she wouldn't let me. That was eight years ago. I remember that and the Sun's is coming up.

"So how's Jessica?"

"Fine I think"

"Are you still together?"

"We broke up a few a months ago"

"Do you still talk to her?"

"Not really, random text messages here and there, but not much"

"Does she know your leaving?"

"Yeah"

"What she'd say?"

"...not to be a hero and that she would think of me "always""

"So what happened?"

"Different lives"

When we dated, Jessica said she didn't want to think about me being deployed. So I never talked about it, even though I knew it was going to happen. She once said she'd wait for me. I didn't believe her.

"Your grandparents are watching your dog?"

"Yeah, I couldn't imagine a better place for him. I tried taking him for a long walk last night before we left, but it rained earlier, so he wasn't interested"

"That's too bad"

"No big deal, we've been walking constantly over the last few weeks, I think we covered it all"

I'm thinking about the life I've separated myself from, the things I've either left behind or let go of. I'm already thinking about what I'll do when I get back. What happens in the mean time doesn't matter.

"So you got everything taken care of that you needed too?"

"Yeah, all set. Everything I'm keeping is already in your basement, everything else I either threw out or gave to Nathan"

"What are you doing with your Blazer?"

"Grandpa is selling it for me?"

"You should be selling that motorcycle"

"I should be riding that motorcycle"

"How'd your company take the news?"

"Fine, not much they can say. I rushed to get the things done I could, but didn't quite finish it all"

"Are you going back there?"

"I can, but I don't think sales is my thing. I'll probably look elsewhere when I get back, I'll have that luxery"

"Like what?"

"Construction again, only this time the white collar side of it. I'm thinking project management, I want to get into developments"

I've cut lose so many things, and I'm looking forward to replacing them all when I get back. I already haven't been feeling like the person I was, but I'm feeling more the way I'm suppose too.

"Have you heard where you'll be stationed?"

"Nope, and take the next exit. It's still a mystery, apparently. We hear different things but nobody knows"

"How about what you'll be doing?"

"Not that either. There have been some rumors of this and that, but again, nothing certain"

"How about training, what kinds of things will you be doing?"

"Convoys, weapons, security, check points, physical training, it's all standard stuff. They prepare pretty much everyone for that"

"How long will it last?"

"About two months or so, until we clear all the training"

I don't know what to expect. I don't know where I'm going or what I'll be doing. I've imagined it all. I don't know what to expect and I don't care.

"Where too?"

"Take a left at the light, then the next right and pull into the parking lot. You'll see it, there will over a hundred soldiers standing around waiting for a formation and saying good bye"

I remember this town. I went to college here and Jessica is still living here.

"Where should I park?"

"Right here is fine"

"Do you need help with anything"

"No"

"Well take care Son, I'm proud of you."

"Will do...thanks for everything"

"Good bye"

"Good bye, Dad"

We shook hands and he turned right around and drove the three hours back to the other side of the state. That was the morning of July 5, 2005 and now the day has started...

My dad is a good man. I always felt we could have talked a bit more than we did, not just that morning, but others as well. I didn't have much to say then, and we'll usually talk about the same things anyway, but sometimes, he really makes sense. And he loves to do that, to make reason of things and talk in anologies. So I do the same.

One of the strongest connections we had was "baseball." It sounds simple enough, but there's more to it. He used to play ball when he was younger and his enthusiasm became my enthusiasm as I grew up. One the most powerful things he was able to do for me was to make me feel like I was the best twelve year old baseball player on the planet. Of course this wasn't true and eventually I realized that I wasn't the glove wielding hero that I thought I was, but what did occur to me, eventually, was the power of influence that a parent has. He was able to make me beleive in something that is more than what's there. That's powerful. So naturally, one day my kid will also be the best 12 year old baseball player on the planet (or dancer, depending on whoever shows up).

~Rolligun

My next post will be from home.