Excerpt
May 11, 4:30 p.m. That Friday Rick worked another extra session with Jared before driving to Harriet’s for dinner. He’d gone to Wright Hubbell’s the night before to obtain permission for Jared to attend. He was warm with the idea of Jared’s invitation.
On the drive to Harriet’s Rick asked, “How’s school going?”
“Oh, okay. About the same as usual,” was Jared’s response.
Rick frowned as he looked out at the passing fields. It sure was hard to get to know this kid.
“Well, I’m hoping that you’re going to do well at school. It would mean a lot to me if you could pass this year, Jared. I tend to believe you’re a pretty smart guy. I’ll bet you’ll be able to pass.”
Jared’s brow was furrowed. Rick waited for him to respond, but there was silence. After a moment Rick continued, “I’ve been watching you. You’re as smart as the rest of the boys.”
Jared looked at Rick as if he’d sprouted maggots on his face. It was almost a sneer as he wrinkled his forehead. “No!” he cried in disbelief and violently shook his head.
Wow! Rick winced at the explosive reaction.
“I went to college, and I’ve seen a lot of people. I can tell when someone’s smart, and you look smart to me.”
The boy shook his head with decision. He looked out the window. Then he came back.
“I’m just not good at school; I’m not like the other kids.”
“Not like the other kids. --- Jared, are you going to tell me that you’re not good at baseball either? We both know that wouldn’t be true because we can both see that you’re much better than many of the others. How’s it possible that you can be much better at baseball, but not even as good in school?”
Jared looked at his hands; his sullen and distressed face was groping to respond. When he lifted his head, he stared straight ahead at the dashboard and spoke slowly, trying to phrase his words.
“Baseball and sports are fun --- but they’re not important. School’s important --- but --– but you’ve got to be worth something --- to do well at school. You need a big family to help you --- to help you at home. You need a mother.”
He stopped for a moment, and then he spoke again. His voice had grown deeper and was quiet, yet intense, as he tried to control the trembling. “We have just a small family, it’s Daddy and me. I help Daddy, and Daddy helps me. That’s our family.”
The soft whirring of the engine was heard above the silence in the car. The tires moaned on the pavement.
Rick was shocked and felt stupid to be in this deep. The anguish at his own actions was being complemented with greater compassion for the boy.
He said, “Well you and your dad have done a strong job carrying on. Someone has done a nice job of raising you. Everyone on the team likes you a lot, and I do too. I like you a lot. I’d like to help you and I’d like to help you at school.”
While Rick was talking, Jared was twisting his hands. Then, as he looked at Rick, his voice quavered.
“I don’t think mothers leave a family --- right after a baby is born --- do they?” he asked.
With effort he continued. “Maybe she and my dad didn’t like each other, but --- but why didn’t she take me with her?” He gasped for breath. “Don’t mothers do that?”
“Yes, they often do, Jared, but we don’t know enough about the situation to judge. There could have been many reasons why she left without you. She may have been sick or depressed. These things happen.”
Jared stared out the window in heartsick despair. “I don’t know,” he said. “She probably didn’t think I was worth it. I don’t know why she left without me.”
Before Rick realized it, they were parked in front of Harriet’s. He sat there, not wanting to go in. How could he bring this utter sadness into the airy lightness of Jill and Harriet’s company? Here was this deserving little kid sitting next to him who was dragging an enormous weight through life. Rick wasn’t ready to laugh or talk.
He pretended to fuss with his key chain. Then he winked at Jared and opened his car door, “I’ll betcha that Harriet has some treats for us.”
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