The Grove Read Online Free PDF Page B

pulled out of the parking lot.
     
     
    Jefferson High School was less than a mile away.
    I’d driven by hundreds of times over the years, but I hadn’t set foot on campus since I’d left school halfway through my senior year. I drove around the main building and parked in the senior lot next to the baseball diamond. I got out and looked over the field.
    The scoreboard above centerfield was new, but the logo was the same as it had always been—a blue and white bear paw. The Jefferson Bears. There were metal stands on either side of the field and wooden ones built in behind home plate. The field was green and the dirt was red and it all shone clean under a bright yellow sun.
    I grabbed my bottle and crossed the parking lot to the gate. It was locked, so I followed the fence along the stands and down toward left field. The fence was lower there, and I climbed over without a problem.
    I stayed by the fence for a moment, taking it all in, then crossed to center field and got down on one knee. I ran my hand over the top of the grass.
    I had a feeling that no time had passed, that I’d never left. I looked around. Except for the years with Liz and Clara, this was where I’d been happiest. Now, all of that was gone, and coming back was like visiting a graveyard.
    I pushed myself up, and crossed toward first base, my position, and stood in my old spot. The bag wasn’t out, but the foul lines were chalked and the dirt under my feet felt familiar and good.
    I stared up at the stands, remembering how they’d looked when they were full. In small communities, any home game is an event, and sometimes it seemed like the entire town came out to watch us play.
    Now, everything was silent, but in my head I could still hear the chaos.
    I took the bottle from my pocket and took a drink. The sun felt warm on my neck. I lay back and let myself sink into the grass.
    Above me, the sky was a perfect blue.
    I could hear the crowds in the stands, cheering me on. I closed my eyes and imagined Jessica sitting out there among them, surrounded by her friends, laughing and joking, completely unaware of what was coming.
    The way it should’ve been.
    The image felt so real and so peaceful. It was like a warm wave covering me and pushing me along, farther and farther away from the shore.
     
     
    “Number twenty-one, Dexter McCray.”
    I look around the dugout, but I’m alone. There are people on the field, and the sky behind them is a swirl of red and gray. I hear the announcer again, and this time I get up and climb out to the field.
    The stands are full. People are on their feet. I can see them clapping and cheering, but the sound is covered by the wind and the thunder in the distance.
    There are bats lined up in front of the dugout. I pick one up and move toward the on-deck circle. Someone grabs my arm. I turn around. Clara looks up at me and shakes her head. She is wearing her white bicycle helmet and a long-sleeved pink top with a yellow sunflower design in the middle.
    “You can’t use that one,” she says, motioning to the bat. “It’s not fair.”
    I look down. The wood feels good in my hands.
    “What should I use?”
    Clara turns and runs back to the dugout, disappearing down the steps. When she comes back she’s carrying a long black tire iron. She holds it out to me.
    “This,” she says.
    I take the tire iron and let the bat drop to the ground. The metal is cold and heavy. I start to turn away, then stop and look back.
    “I need a helmet.”
    She unstraps her bicycle helmet and hands it to me. I slide it on and head for the batter’s box.
    The umpire is standing behind the plate. He’s staring at me, but I can’t see his face, only a swirling gray void behind the mask.
    I look back toward Clara, but she’s gone. Instead, Jessica is sitting in the stands right above the spot where Clara was. She’s wearing sunglasses and her black and gold uniform from the café.
    She sees me and waves.
    I wave back and smile.
    “You ready