Part 13

Sports coordination had not been a priority during August's formative years. His parent's valued music and art, and thus August never quite developed a knack for physical activities. But, he was stubborn to prove his own insecurities wrong and attempted to fit in with all of the neighborhood boys.

The field behind the school was considered off limits when school was not in session. School officials claimed that due to very slim budgets and the high cost of grass seeds and fertilizer, the school grounds must only be used for school sanctioned activities. But, try telling that to a group of rambunctious boys wanting to play baseball or football. The fields near the school had the best grass and it seemed that the ground was softer when you weren't supposed to be on it.

The neighborhood boys were a tight knit gang, with a few having been born at the same hospital within a few months of each other. Sure new children would move into the neighborhood, but as long as they fit in, they were usually accepted - or at the least, tolerated. August knew this is where he had to make his mark. He didn't want to lead, he didn't want to be popular, he just wanted to fit in.

That particular summer, the children in the neighborhood had been warned several times to stay off the fields near the school. Educational officials had sent several letters to all of the homes requesting parents to keep their children off the school grounds. Some parents took heed, but even the children that were forbidden by mom or dad still made their way to the fields during those hot summer days.

It was on such day that August's fate was sealed.

After a spirited game of football - where August had done absolutely nothing positive for his team, but better yet had done nothing detrimental to his reputation - some of the older boys had found a wayward baseball and decided to start throwing it as hard and as far as they could. It was a common contest among boys, another right passage between peers.

The contest had begun on the far southern field. It was the farthest from the school and was partially shielded by a low hill. If you were to head north and walk up and over the hill you would have found yourself in the black asphalt parking lot reserved for the teachers and facing the rear of the school. To the left were the school's outdoor basketball courts with their hard wrought iron basketball rims and chain nets. There was also a pair of mobile trailer classrooms where the science classes were held.

Eventually, the group of boys made their way north as each throw brought them closer and closer towards the school. The boys then decided that distance wasn't a fine measure of throwing strength, but height was more impressive. It didn't matter that there was no real way to measure the height on their throws, the winner would have been chosen by the number and volume of the "oohs" and "aahs".

August simply walked with the group but was careful not to stand near where the ball may land so that he wouldn't have to take a turn throwing it. He also decided to that should the ball land near him, he would not make a move towards it, but would let the other scramble for it. This strategy seemed to work out well for a while.

It wasn't until the ball landed squarely between him and one of the older boys, Freddie Canon, that fate caught up with him.

Freddie was one of the leaders of the pack. He was confident and cocksure. He often boasted of his many accomplishments while riding on his dirt bike. While not entirely a bully, he did like to let people know when he was better at something than they were. Freddie watched the ball bounce towards the both of them. Freddie looked over to August and must have seen the fear in August's eyes.

"Hey" Freddie began, "You haven't thrown it yet. We gotta make sure you don't throw like no girl." This was echoed by other boys who simply like to agree with whatever Freddie said. Freddie walked over and picked up the ball. He casually tossed it over to August. Much to August's surprise, he caught the ball midair quite easily. He had been worried about dropping after such an easy toss, which would have started a merciless barrage of laughter.

"Go ahead Gigi" this had become August nickname after some of the boys had heard his mother call him Augie, "throw it up as high as you can." Freddie had a smirk on his face knowing August's throw would cause some laughs.

August took a deep breath. He knew he could never throw a ball as high as the other boys, and he knew that he would probably get some jokes directed his way, but he also knew that it was part of the banter. He would be able to take it and he would still be a part of the group. He was expecting some ridicule and was readying himself for it.

Unfortunately, August knew that his over-hand throw was lacking. He knew that if he tried to throw it with an over hand motion the boys would quickly decry his lack of throwing prowess and immediately say "you throw like a girl". August's young mind decided that his only chance was to throw it underhanded and hope that the height his throw reached would be enough to deflect most of the derision.

August cocked his hand back gripping the ball tightly with his fingers, swinging his arm back like a professional bowler. August hadn't realized that the years of piano study had strengthened his fingers quite admirably and he could grip a baseball very well. Once he felt his arm reach back as far as it would stretch, he reversed direction and pulled his arm forward violently.

The pendulum motion of his arm picked up dizzying speed and August could feel that it would propelled the baseball far. Could it be the highest toss yet?

Sadly, this was August's first attempt at such a throw. He was unaware of when to open up his fingers and release the ball. Unfortunately, he held on a moment too late. He had been facing towards the South when he prepared to throw. He had pointed his body this way to throw back towards the southern field. By release the ball to late it flew high and hard, but it flew behind him.

The boys had all watched August's new throwing motion. Some had snickered while others had nodded at the novel new way to throw for height. Over a dozen pairs of eyes watched the ball sail up and over the small hill and disappear.

CRACK

Everyone froze. What was that? Did you hear that? Did he hit something? All of the boys muttered. Freddie Canon looked over to one of the other older boys.

"There's no cars up there right?" The other boy pinched his shoulders together in a shrug.

August wanted to run. He wanted to flee. Escape, back to his home, away from this. But Freddie Canon didn't turn to run. Freddie's curiosity had been peaked and Freddie needed to know what the baseball had struck. Freddie began up the hill in a jog, the other boys stood silently for a second but then quickly followed him, as if pulled by his gravitational field. August's instincts to run was over come by the pack mentality and his desire to fit in. He found himself in the middle of the group, jogging up the hill.

When they reached the crest of the hill they saw the repercussions of August's powerful underhanded toss. Two vehicles sat parked on the once empty asphalt lot. There was a large red truck parked next to a beige colored sedan. These were the types of vehicles you see every day. You could walk past them each day on your way to work. They could pull up next to you at a red light and you wouldn't even take a second glance. But now, the beige sedan was clearly marked. It would be easily identifiable now. For in the middle of it's windshield sprouted a baseball buried halfway through the glass.