Home Sweet Home (Chapters 1-5)

Home Sweet Home



Chapter One
Wednesday Morning 5am


I got the call from Sully on a Saturday morning in November . Coop was missing. Probably on another bender no doubt. The next time I heard from Sully, it was 2 o’clock Tuesday morning and the police had found the body. The memorial service was the next weekend, and I had to hurry to make arrangements. According to Sully, the body had been so badly beaten, that there wasn't much left to recognize. Coop never having been married, and his family "our family" in to much anguish, had asked Sully to go to the police station, and it was Sully who had ID'd the body.

My wife understands the bond that I share with the guys I grew up with, we were family even though some us had moved away, and others had stayed. I guess you can say that for the majority of my life, as far back as I can remember, there was always the five of us. I had decided to catch the quickest flight back to California. My wife Amanda wasn't going to be able to make it. We had been married for 5 years, we had a 2 year old son Jack, and Amanda was about due for our second and last child. The doctors had advised her that traveling really would be out of the question.

So that brings me to where I am now, driving to the airport, at five in the morning. My head is swimming with thoughts of Sully, Coop, J.P. and Mickey. This is the third time I have ever faced death, in my 33 years of life, one of my best friends is dead. And I am returning home to bury him.

As I pull into the terminal parking, and polish off my fifth cup of coffee, the fact that I haven't slept all night, finally starts catching up with me. I grab the few bags I have brought and wearily make my way into rotunda of ticket counters. I spy the guard giving me the once over, wondering if I fit the profile of a terrorist. I guess mid thirties, 6'3, 250 pounds, and without a hint of darkness in my skin, is enough for the guard to look to the next passenger. What a fucking joke. They expect a guy who makes ten bucks an hour to give a flying fuck about anyone who doesn't fit the profile. I've seen better security at a mall. I approach the counter where a woman who has no right to be this fucking perky at 5:30am asks me for my name. "Brian Dockery", I reply. "Well Mr. Dockery good morning to you, thank you for flying on Western Air, we strive to make every passenger feel like family, and we feel flying with us is an experience that you'll never forget". The annoying attendant was about to go into the second half of her sch-peel when I asked her if she could just can the crap, and give me my ticket. "The peanuts are the same on every airline, Western Air was no different, they just got me out of Kansas City the fastest", I told her, and with a further air of annoyance she spent the next two minutes typing on a keyboard, louder than she probably needed to. After I assured her that my bags had not been left unattended, and that no strange person, had asked me to carry anything on the flight I got my ticket, and went for the second round of bullshit, that is now routine whenever you fly.

Even early in the morning there were still a few people in line at security. Everyone was emptying there pockets, taking off there shoes, and a red headed overweight woman, was being borderline sexually harassed with one of those electronic wands. Sad thing is it looked like this was the most action this side of beef had had in a while, and she was in no hurry to get it over with. I emptied everything I had into one of there trays, threw away my cigarette lighter, and stepped through, praying the thing didn't beep, or sirens didn't go off, I just wanted to get my seat and go to sleep. Thankfully, I was allowed to put my shoes on, spend a couple of minutes getting re-organized, and made my way to the closest Starbucks for #6.

Two hours later I am finally in my seat, plane taxiing, ignoring the bald guy sitting next to me, and remembering how Western Air strives to make every passenger feel like family, and with an experience they'll never forget. Fuck me, things were a lot simpler twenty years ago.





1986


Sully, Coop, J.P. and I had known each other since before we went to school. We all lived on the same block on Jefferson St. And we all went to Redstone Elementary. Mickey had come along in the 6th grade, he was an Air Force brat who had been to 4 schools in 6 years, but who according to him was finally going to stay in one place for a while. Mickey was always a talker, maybe that was his way of trying to fit in all the time as he moved around, but he had the annoying habit of always trying to one up you if you were swapping stories. His real name was Eddie Hayes, but as you will find out in the first ten minutes after you meet him, he was related by marriage on his mother's side to Mickey Mantle. This was first brought to our attention, on the first day of little league practice 1986 when while playing long toss, J.P. mentioned to the new guy how his uncle had once played Class A ball for the Yankees back in the sixties. Eddie not letting a chance slip away, let J.P. know that his "close" relative also has played for the Yankees and that we might have heard of him. " you are full of shit" Sully had replied, but Mickey kept to his story. Maybe its true, but I have known Mickey for over 20 years now, and I still don't believe him, or a word that comes out of his mouth. Any way, that is how Eddie became "Mickey"

Tommy Cooper, and Mike Sullivan, lived next door to each other. Tommy's dad ran a construction company, Sully's dad owned "Maggie's Tavern". Sully didn't have a mom, she had died when he was born, and Sully's dad had inherited the family's bar, from his father. What was once called "Sully's" was changed to "Maggie's Tavern" or just Maggie's. Coop and Sully were like brothers, both were only children, no siblings, and with father's who were gone a lot, that left the two to there own devices. Coop's mom, was like a mom to all of us, but she held a special place for Sully.

Johnny Polanski lived a few houses down from me which was a few more down from the others. We called him J.P., because if we shortened his name down like we did ours, then we would have had to call him "Pol" and being Polish that was just kind of messed up. I mean if you were German and your last name was Krauter, would you want to go through life being nicknamed "Kraut"? Johnny lived with his grandparents, who were an old Polish couple, and stuck to a lot of there heritage. Me being the funny one, I always had a hard time at there house, trying to make sure a good Polish joke didn't slip out.

So like I said before, my first memory of the 5 of us all together would have been at the first little league practice, we were the Redstone Rangers.


"Hey JP" I yelled as I threw him the ball, "you know what a Polish bride gets on her wedding night, that's long and hard? A last name" I bent over with laughter as he threw me the ball back.

"Piss off, Doc" JP hollered, and rifled the ball back to me.

Coop was rolling in the outfield laughing, and Sully was breaking in the new guy. "

Hey guys" Sully yelled, "do you believe this guy, he says he's related to the Mick",

Eddie started to redden a little, with all of the attention. After a few more throws Coach Jackson, brought us into the dugout. We all exchanged looks, we loved this day. First practice, picking out numbers, fresh mowed grass, and the initial lineup, finding out who was going to play where. I went to 1st base like I had the 2 previous years. Sully went to center, JP was the catcher, Coop was sent out to short, and the new guy Mickey, was stuck in right. I liked playing first, but got ribbed for it every year.
"Hey Coop" JP laughed from behind the plate, "looks like Doc still can't get past first base."

It was an old joke, and kind of one that I let JP have, he was never good at coming up with one liners, but he had struck gold with that, and he clung to it for all it was worth. Everyone laughed, as did I, but what bugged me was I hadn't got past 1st base. Hell I hadn't even kissed a girl. It had just been in the last 2 years that I wanted to, but I knew some of the guys had, and when you are 12 you wore that like a badge of honor.

My favorite player, was Donnie Baseball, Don Mattingly. He was the reason I played first. He was the reason I wore #23. My grandfather was a baseball fanatic, and his favorite team was the New York Yankees. My grandfather moved in with us, after my grandma passed away, and every day he would tell us all stories of Joe DiMaggio, Lou Gehrig, Babe Ruth, Yogi Berra, The Murderer's Row of 1927, Tony Lazzeri, Phil Rizzuto, Roger Maris, the Summer of 61, and of course Mickey Mantle.

Coop's family by far had the biggest yard. They had a simple 3 bedroom house, but they were on the corner. There house was far to the front of the property and there backyard was easily twice the size of the rest of ours. In Coop's back yard was a sprawling eucalyptus tree that we had climbed up one day, and finding every scrap of wood we could find, built the Taj Mahal of tree houses. Looking back it was really half ass, but to us it was the most sacred place in the world other than the baseball field. Sully had a big Golden Retriever, named Seamus who for all intensive purpose became our mascot, because the rest of us didn't have any pets.




Chapter Two
Wednesday Morning 11am PST



"Attention all passengers please fasten your seat belts, and put your trays into the upright position. We will be landing in Los Angeles in 30 minutes. The temperature is 84 degrees with 15mph winds. Please enjoy your stay, and as always we thank you for choosing Western Air." I jumped in my seat, startled back into the present. I took a bottle of water I had stowed into my carry on, took a swig and splashed a little in my eyes to clear the cobwebs. The bald man next to me was still setting dangerously close, and I spied a small bag of Western Air honey roasted peanuts next to me. "What a treat" I say under my breath. I eat the peanuts and as the stewardess walks by, I talk her into to getting me a Bloody Mary. I literally absorb the drink I am so thirsty, and after 5 hours sleep, and with tomato juice breath I am ready to go.

I get off the plane, and as I slip and slide through families hugging, and grandmother's crying I see Sully waiting. He hasn't changed a bit. I haven't seen him in a few years, were lean muscle was, some still remains, but is mostly overtaken by the onset of middle age. His hair is still orangish red, and his face is highlighted by what is beginning to become a bulbous drunk's, nose. The pain of the last week is clearly written on his face and in his posture. Sully is about six feet tall, and all in all for working in a bar his whole life, he looks pretty good. He waves me down, and we wrap each other in a bear hug.

"Good to see you, you fuck" he says as he smiles.

Knowing Sully as I do, I don't getting offended, for Sully, a fuck or a bastard, is an expression of endearment.

"Spoken like a literary genius" I tell him.

We walk to baggage claim, and on to the parking lot. Also knowing Sully as I do, I know where we are headed. Its where we grew up, what replaced the base fields of our youth, and became our own field of dreams, Maggie's.

We grew up in a small town maybe an hours drive from L.A. What was once maybe fifty towns, bordered by orange groves, and freeways, is now one giant mega metropolis that seems never ending. In the twelve years since I left I have returned twice, and every time, it seems different. Everytime it feels like I need a map, to get to places I used to know like the back of my hand.

We get to Maggie's at about noon, and it is evident the lunch crowd is coming in. Maggie's is your typical bar. We sidle up to the corner of the bar, where JP and Mickey are talking. The mood is somber, as it should be, the conversation looks void, until............
"Hey JP" I yell, "Why is the Polish guy's leg yellow? Because his dog's Polish too."
JP turns and smiles, I love busting his balls, and deep down I think he likes me doing it. We all slap hands and embrace before ordering a few drinks, and going to a booth back off in the corner where it is a little more quieter.

I look across the booth at Mickey and JP, Its been a while since I've seen either one of them. Mickey looks really shaken up, you can tell he is on his umpteenth beer of the day, and that he is taking it hard. Mickey and Coop were close, especially later in life, and this has to be killing him as much as anyone. Mickey is about 5'9, 160 pounds. He has dark black hair topping off a rather pasty complexion, his eyes betray his feelings and show the emotion that he feels. The best way to describe Mickey is that he looks like a used car salesman, and we all know what those fucking cockroaches are like. JP on the other hand was the chubby one. Every group has one, and he was ours. Brown hair, freckly skin, about 5'10 280 and with clothes that always look to tight. What JP lacked in self confidence to women, he had the heart of lion to us. If we had a glue that had kept us together all these years, that glue would be named Johnny Polanski

It was a few minutes before anyone spoke, then it was Mickey.

"Sully, I heard he was beaten so bad, that his skin was hanging off his fucking face."

"Not now Mick" replied Sully

"Sully come on man."

"Not now Mick, I mean it"

"But I got to know, I got to know. I got to know how he looked."

"Why the fuck do you want to know Mick, Why. So you can get a fucking mental picture in your head of Coop lying there bloodied as all beats hell, nose smashed in, ear hanging on by the lobe. His brain escaping out of the hole in the side of his head." Sully jumped up reached across the table and grabbed a fistful of Mickey’s shirt.

"Do you want to know, do you really" he snarled, "do you want to know how they kept bashing his head in until the fucking pipe lodged into his skull. Do you want to know, how after they beat him from head to toe, they took turns pissing on him, as he took his last fucking breath. Do you want to know that they choked him so hard he had marks left all over his neck forcing him to swallow the piss. Do YOU want to fucking know that they specifically beat his head into a blood fucking pulp, so his own mother, couldn't have an open casket. Do you want to know, how the cops advised his parents not to be the ones who ID'd him. Do you want to know that after he shit his own pants, someone shoved it into his god damned mother fucking mouth. Tell me Mick HOW MUCH DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING KNOW".

Tears were racing down Sully's face as JP and I sat in shock, and Mickey retreated lower into his seat. Mickey looked stunned, he got up went to the bar, ordered a shot, and then walked out.

"Sully, Jesus Christ, what the fuck was that" I yelled as a few patrons turned to look.

"Some thing is up with that little weasel son of a bitch. Two days he has been asking, two days. He has this compulsive need to know what happened. You ain't been around Doc, but these last two days have been pure hell."

"So why does he want to know so bad" I asked

"Who knows with that little fuck, probably wants to tell us he knew someone who got offed worse than Coop".



We sat for what seemed like hours, but in fact wasn't even a quarter of that. We each had one more drink, and then we went to track down Mickey and go see Mrs. Cooper.



Chapter Three

"Listen Doc" Sully said, "there is some stuff you may not be aware of"

I stopped looking at the town passing by, we had dropped off JP a while back ago, and now it seemed we were just driving aimlessly around town, purposely avoiding Jefferson St., and Mrs. Cooper. Finally I turned to Sully.

"What are you talking about"

"It's just..It's just things change man, I mean look at you, you and JP were the only ones who left, I know your reasons, and I don't blame you, but while things might look the same through a phone call, or an email, or the once every five years visit. Things change., That's all I'm saying."

"No Sully I don't get what your saying"

"Look Doc, you, me, Coop, JP, we was always going to turn out this way, some things didn't quite go like we planned, like you playing for the Yankees and shit, but for the most part we know who we are. We all grew up, some of us settled down, some us have the SUV and 2.5 kids, but what's the worse thing we ever did, get boozed up one to many times. Still get boozed up to much.” he laughed

"Sully spit out, will ya"

"It's Mickey..the little Weasel fuck, he lost his job about two years ago, got hooked on some shit,.... that you don't drink, he's not there anymore. Hell we don't see him hardly at all anymore, unless he needs something. Annie that girl he married, she up and left right after, she moved back East. JP, Coop and I we thought he was getting mixed up with the wrong crowd. JP said he seen him about 6 months ago, over by his place, on the other side of the valley, hanging out with that Skinhead motherfucker from high school, you remember Charlie Hooker...that kid who went to Parkwood who went from being a halfway normal fuck, to the next year looking like Hitler's grandson, and wanting everyone to call him Skull all the fucking time. This guy Skull, Charlie whoever the fuck he is, he is big time meth now, those fucking skinheads are pushing that shit on to anyone who will take it. Well I'm just saying I ain't seen Mickey in 3 months and then boom, Coop gets killed and this one up motherfucker is hanging on my front porch for the last 2 days. Something ain't right"

I sat back and thought over what Sully has just said. He had a point, since I moved off I guess I lived in a virtual La La Land about how things were going back home, when your used to talking to each other every few months you just take for granted how quick time flies. I just assumed everyone was doing the same thing they always did, work all day, and spend the night at Maggie's. Things I wished sometimes I could be doing if it weren't for all the family responsibilities. Mickey had always been one of us, but to be honest he was the one I spoke to the least, maybe once a year

"So you think Mickey might know something" I asked Sully.

"I don't know, I never trusted that weasel fuck, and now he acts like this, we should be grieving and he is driving himself paranoid, and disappearing all the time. I even heard he is banging that skank Becky Bushwell again."

"No way you mean Becky the bitch whose bush everyone knows well"

Sully laughed "Yeah Doc, that's the one."

I looked at my watch, it was almost two o'clock.

"Hey Sully" I said, I don't want to see Mrs. Cooper all liquored up, what do you say you drop me off at the hotel to get cleaned up, and sleep this off a bit, then we'll go see her about dinner time."

" Whatever you need bro, its good to have you back. You know I miss you man"

"I know Sully, I know."



1986



April 12th, 1986 opening day. Redstone Rangers vs. Parkwood Pirates.


Parkwood was the side of town your mom didn't want you to be in. Parkwood, was where the dealers, hung out. When Nancy Reagan drilled it into our heads to Just Say No, she meant Parkwood. Parkwood Elementary was the worst school in town, and teachers used to threaten us that if we didn't behave we would be sent to Parkwood. Bottom line going to Parkwood, was the 12 year old equivalent to going to prison.

Parkwood had a decent team that year, led by a big black kid named Tyson Brooks. Brooks was so big we all thought he must have had 2 kids and collected a paycheck every week, but after several parents complained to the league, he was checked out, and found out only to be 12. It didn't matter much to us kids though, Tyson was a big son of a bitch and we were all scared to death of him. Parkwood also had a right handed pitcher, who was an acne faced kid named Charlie Hooker.

"Come on Sully", "strike him out" we yelled. It was the top of the 6th and we were holding a one run lead 3-2. Sully had been brought in to pitch, the last inning, Charlie Hooker had got on second with a nice hit to left field and now with 2 outs Tyson Brooks had come up to bat. Sully looked visibly shaken up, but he held together once he heard old man Sullivan cheering from the stands. The first pitch was low and inside, but Tyson being so big the ump deemed it to low and called it ball one. The next pitch was straight down the middle for strike one. Two more pitches were low and inside and it took the count to 3 and 1. Sully sweating badly now threw a high curveball that slipped a little as he threw it, it hung right over the plate. Tyson Brooks smiled, and ate his lunch. Home Run. Pirates were now leading 4-3. In the bottom of the 6th I led off, and after 3 straight balls I fouled one off, the 5th pitch was high, and I walked to 1st. Next up was a kid named Ricky Drake who played 2nd, he took 2 strikes, and then Hooker sent a screaming fastball that got away from him, and went over the catchers head and hit the backstop. I had all ready had a big lead , and was able to slide in to 2nd before the catcher could throw me out. Hooker now a little scared threw a meatball that lacked any of the previous self confidence. Ricky never being a great hitter was able to hit a dribbler to short, the shortstop looked me off, but what Ricky lacked in hitting he made up for in speed, and made it to first with no outs.

The Pirates coach came out and talked to Hooker, but it was evident that Hooker had something to prove. Next up was Mickey, and on the 1st pitch Mickey hits a pop fly for the first out. One out, runners on 1st and 2nd, and up comes JP, JP was slow as an ox but could hit well. JP stood tight into the plate, as Hooker threw the first two inside for balls to back him off. But JP wasn't backing down and on the 3rd pitch JP was drilled right in the ribs. He let out an audible cry, and took 1st. Bases Loaded and one out with Sully up to bat. Sully took Hooker to a full count before fouling a ball that was caught by the left fielder for out number two. Last out, and Coop strides up to the plate. Coop by far the most athletic of us all took two pitches, before sending a fastball straight over the left field fence, for a walk off grand slam. Giving the Rangers a 7-4 victory, and "The Choke" as it was known through the years began. Charlie Hooker walked off the field definitely disturbed. Tyson Brooks threw taunts at us all the way back to the dug out, and we all headed to Maggie's for victory burgers and root beer floats. Coop never had a finer moment.



Chapter Four
Wednesday Night



Sully and I got to the Cooper's at 6 o'clock. There were still plenty of well wishers at the house, and after an emotional hug from Mrs. Cooper, Sully and I saw Mickey and gravitated toward him. It was evident that Mickey had been drinking all day, and was on the verge of passing out. Why he was even here in that state we didn't know. Mickey seemed to sense us coming, and as I was stopped by someone whose name I couldn't remember Mickey vanished.

"This guy is a regular Houdini" I muttered to no one in particular.

Sully was at a pot luck line, filled with food and bottles of booze, where he had met up with a women who looked vaguely familiar. He had a plate loaded up with chicken and pot roast and 4 different kinds of potatoes, but while holding the plate he seemed to be consoling the woman. As I got closer she turned towards me and it dawned on me who she was. Her name was Angie Blake, and although we knew of her in high school she wasn't in the same crowd as us. I remembered talking to Coop six or so months ago, when he said he had met her at Maggie's one night. "This ain't the same Angie" he had told me, and boy was he right. The simple bookworm, had left the cocoon and turned into a downright babe.

"Doc you remember Angie Blake, don't ya, She and Coop had been seeing each other most of the year" Coop said

"Hey ya Angie good to see you" I replied awkwardly

It was weird treating someone I really didn't know like my best friend's widow, but I guess that's what I get for not keeping in better touch.

"Nice to see you to Brian" she stated using the only name she new, "Coop would have loved to have seen you, he kept talking about getting out to the Midwest and seeing what you had made for yourself."

This made me feel more uncomfortable I still hadn't got used to the fact of using my friend's name in the past tense. "Excuse me " I said, and grabbed a bottle of Makers Mark, poured me a double straight up with ice and headed to the backyard for some air.

I went through the back door to the backyard and saw the giant eucalyptus from my childhood. The tree house was gone, but in its place at the base of the tree was a picnic table, and some unoccupied chairs. I sat down with my drink, and reflected. I heard a rustling in the leaves, and figured it to be one of the thousands of possums that run around at night raiding trash cans. Sully was right things had changed. I felt like the favorite uncle who lived out of town. The one who sent you presents every Christmas, but only came to visit once every couple of years. Everyone in the house had a bond with each other, that I felt I didn't have. The focus should be on Coop and the enormity of his death, but instead all I got was , "Hey Doc watcha been up to", or "Hey Doc, hows that wife and kid, sure would like to see a picture". It was like I wasn't part of the immediate picture. Having a family of my own and my own life back in Kansas, I felt secure in what I had, but at this moment in time, I had never felt more insecure of myself.

I jingled the ice around in the glass letting it soak up the flavor of the whiskey, glass about empty and contemplating getting another, like always fate chimed in. I heard the screen door shut, and Sully came out with the bottle of Makers Mark.

Out of the five of us Sully and Coop where definitely the ones I had kept in touch with the most, it was never said, but we know that as much as we loved JP and Mickey, the three of us had something closer, almost like we were brothers. When Coop died I think Sully was the only one who could have told me, and in a way I think Sully knew that to when he made the call. While Coop may have been the athletic one, and I was the funny one, JP the chubby one, and Mickey the talker, Sully was our leader. Sully was the one we looked up to, he just had that Irish air to him, that was brimming with confidence, and it was a safety blanket for all of us to know that he was on our side. When I had left California, Sully and Coop were the only two whose opinion mattered to me, and they understood why I had to leave. It hurt, but they understood. In the twelve years I had been gone, I talked to Coop regularly, but Sully was the only one who had come out to visit, and that meant a lot to me. When Jack was born Sully drove for two days, only stopping to sleep to be out there so I would have a friend. Sully would have done anything for me, and I would have done anything for him.

"What the fuck you doin out here by yourself" Sully asked

"Just clearing my head" I replied

Sully sat next to me and poured me a drink
"You know pop is planning on retiring at the end of the year, gonna have the whole tavern to myself"

That's good Sully, I'm proud of you"

You know Doc, it would be cool to have you come back, hell we could be part owners and drink our own beer, and get rich off everyone else's drinking habits" he laughed.

This wasn't the first time Sully had asked this, and I knew it wouldn't be the last.

"Sully we've talked about this, maybe one day, but I've got Amanda, I have Jack, I've got another on the way. I have a good life, and this town ain't what it used to be. I just can't see Jack having the same childhood as we did, the way this place is heading. Kansas just feels safer, it feels like a place to raise a family. After I left, after I quit playing ball, after the accident, all I had was me. I needed a place where there wasn't the constant questions, the constant pain. I needed a place where I could look at a building or a tree or a ball field and not have it stir up some memory of the past. As much as I love you guys I had to leave."

"I know buddy, hell I know, but I guess every man wants a piece of his childhood in his future. You know we used to say we would all get married we would all have kids, live on the same block, we could drink all night, and hell our wives wouldn't care because they would all be friends to. But that isn't how things worked out, You and JP are the only ones that got married and you both moved away. It just feels normal almost dreamlike that we are all together again, gets me a little nostalgic that's all."

" Hell Sully, I wanted to be Don Mattingly to, but that didn't work out, sometimes you just have to play the cards your dealt, even if its a shitty hand. One day I'll come back, I know that, Amanda knows that, fuck you know that, but right now ain't the time. "

Sully cradled the bottle like a newborn, just sat there looking at me with a vacant look, "you bout ready to go, you look like shit, and hell it's two hours later for you, let's get you back to the hotel, and rest up and we can meet for breakfast tomorrow. Mrs. C says she wants us to be in the funeral and she wants us to help with the body and stuff."

"Sounds like we are in for a long day"

I stood up and felt the whiskey wash through me like it had been hiding in the darkness waiting to strike. I patted Sully on the back, and we got up to say our goodbyes. As we left I heard some movement in the tree again above us. I looked up and for a second I saw him. Don't ask me whyI didn't tell Sully, but Mickey had been sitting right above us crying.



1986



The four of us had been waiting all winter for the weather to warm up. Not only did that signal baseball season, but it also meant our parents let us stay out later. Kick the Can, pick up basketball, talking about girls. JP had brought up the idea of bringing Mickey into the crew since he did live on our street, we all agreed, but Sully vowed to knock him on his ass if he started talking to much.

The Friday night after "The Choke" we decided to have a camp out, in the tree house. We went to the 7-11 and after playing Galaga for 3 hours we scraped our pockets, and bought some supplies. Root Beer, Doritos, and as many 25 cent packs of baseball cards as we could get. While Coop and I haggled with the cashier, dumping a zip lock bag full of change, on the counter, Sully pocketed “heaven” and walked out. Next to baseball and long evenings , April was famous for one other thing, a marketing brainstorm that left its fingerprints on any boy who grew up in the 80's. Before the internet, before all of it, there was the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue. The bible of every 12 year old boy. In the 80's next to the lingerie section of your mother's Sears catalog was the swimsuit issue. Every boy wanted a subscription, they would read Sports Illustrated all year, in anticipation, only to have mom or dad beat them to the mail box.

We got to the tree house and having stowed our sleeping bags earlier in the day, waited for nightfall. Mr. Cooper had let us borrow an extension cord that we ran from the garage, up the tree, and into Coop's small boom box. Music, baseball cards, and the mag, it was going to be a good night.

"Hey JP" I yelled "you hear the one about the two Rabbi's and the Pollock setting in a plane"

"Go screw your mother, you cock-a-roach" he said with his best Al Pacino impersonation.

" Guys" Sully said looking up from the magazine "got a question for you, what would your rather see, Daisy Duke's ass or Madonna's tits"

"Madonna's tits," replied Coop

"Madonna's tits" I replied

“Madonna's tits" said JP

"Daisy Dukes ass"

This last one came from Mickey

"Are you frickin nuts" Sully roared

"Well I've always thought of myself as more of an Ass Man," said Mickey

"Shit you wouldn't even know what to do if you had a piece of ass, MAN" Sully said, and we all fell over dying.

Mickey shrank back a little, took a drink from his root beer. "oh yeah Sully well, how far have you gotten, we all know Doc ain't got past 1st base." I rolled my eyes at the old joke, and felt Sully starting to pick up for me.

"Kissed Amy Walden in the movies, and she even let me feel her tits"

The tree house grew silent this was all news to us......Sully just smirked

"HMM not bad but I had my finger stink so bad it took me an hour and a half of washing to get the smell away" Mickey smiled as he looked to Sully knowing he had him one upped.

"You lying sack...what chick would let you slip that weaselly finger up her Cooch" Sully said hoping he had him on the ropes

"Becky Bushwell" Mickey said looking Sully right in the eyes.

"Well hell son", I yelled and then the others joined in "Everyone knows Becky's bush well" again we died laughing, Sully high fived the group, Mickey sunk back, then realizing Sully got the best of him, Mickey reached in and slapped hands.



Chapter Five
Thursday Morning 4am


The dream was about halfway over. It wasn't a long dream but it was frequent. Years of dealing with shit, and talking to shrinks had got it to the point, where it didn't hurt so much emotionally, but there was still some. I was sleeping in a cheap hotel in Tampa, Florida, spring training was beginning the next day. The grass, the chalk, the infield, well worn leather, and the tobacco, all the smells were there. The phone rings what must be twenty times, when my roommate finally answers it and hands it to me. I listen to the voice on the other end, and quickly turn on the TV, the reporter is standing on the edge of a man made hell hole, nothing but fire and a half gorged airplane.

The phone rings...My first thought is Amanda, everything had been all right when I called her earlier, but you never knew when nature would run its course. I hate late night phone calls they always bring bad news, recalling bits of my dream, and my current predicament.

I scramble around disoriented BRRRRING, unfamiliar with my surroundings, BRRRRING..... I absentmindedly reach out to where the phone is, in Amanda and I's room and get nothing but air. BRRRRING. I take a deep breath remembering where I am at, and reach for the light. I finally get the phone on the fifth ring

"Hello" I say

Nothing

"Hello" again

Still nothing

I can hear music faintly coming in the background, I look at the caller ID and there is nothing but RESTRICTED

"Who the fuck is this" I yell into the receiver

Nothing.

"Answer me god damn it"

I hear someone laughing still faintly back in the same area as the music.

"Do you kids know what fucking time it is" I was mad as hell now and a little worried.

Nothing but more quiet laughter....

Suddenly there is a bang on my door two, three times like some one trying to break the door down

"What the fuck do you want" I yell into the receiver.

There is a quiet intake of breath, then a hardly audible whisper

"What's up Doc"

I don't recognize the voice, I try to make it register, but I have no idea who the hell this is

Silence

Eerily long silence

I can just make out the music in the background, faint but a little louder than before almost like it had been coming from behind a closed door to whatever room the caller is in and then someone opened the door.

Motley Crue

"I'm on my way, I'm on my way, Home Sweet Home"

Click


6- 10 minutes later



I look out the window to my room into the open walkway.

Nothing

I glance at my watch 4:15 am

Not a soul is stirring

What the fuck is going on

I call Sully and agree to meet him earlier than he would have wanted to get up, but after explaining the phone call he is suddenly alert, and helps me settle down by being able to talk to someone.

I shower quickly leaving the bathroom door open, ready for anything. My nerves have started to settle, if someone was going to do something they would have done it all ready. Mental images fill my head of me lying in an alley with a pipe lodged into my head, ear hanging half off. Amanda crying, Jack crying. I towel off and look in the mirror, contemplating on whether I should shave or not, I decide to and after finishing I look again. Its still there. Behind the first beginnings of age, the slight wrinkle here and there, the slight sag of the eyes. I still have a full head of hair trimmed to a buzz so the gray doesn't stick out as much. Behind the handle bar mustache behind the medium sized nose and blue eyes. Its still there. Its the worry, something is not right. Someone is up to something. Something is going down, something has been going on for quite awhile, and after 12 years I am some how involved.