Page 11 of Caught Running
Suppressing a laugh at the look of horror on the kid’s face, Brandon shifted sideways to face the other man. “I didn’t know you went to school here. I wonder how many people come back over time.” He started trying to count. There’d been several who drifted through, especially his first few years here, many doing student teaching and then heading off to bigger, more moneyed schools in Atlanta or even out of state.
“I’d say anyone who washed out in college comes back,” Jonathan ventured with a nod at Jake.
“Next person to fall down will owe everyone a lap!” Jake shouted as he tossed the kid back into line and continued his prowling. The drill went on for another minute or so, and Jake called a halt to it just before he knew kids would start falling over and not getting back up. “Go get water!” he ordered, stalking back to the fence. Behind him, some kids literally crawled to the dugout.
Brandon was momentarily shocked by Jonathan’s comment, but then realized he was talking about sports. Jake would havehad to complete his degree to teach, but not playing sports wouldn’t have stopped him. The blown-out knee was starting to make more sense. And why Jake was here and not playing professional ball somewhere. He remembered there’d been talk. He watched Jake approach, straightening a little and pulling out his pad to make a few notes, checking the numbers on a few of the players.
Jake frowned at the little pad of paper and raised an eyebrow in question as he came up to the fence and leaned against it. “That little dude is gonna be your leadoff hitter, I guarantee it,” he said to Jonathan with a nod at a freshman kid who was little more than five feet tall. “Shortstop.”
Jonathan nodded. That was one of the kids he didn’t know, who had filtered in from another middle school. But he could see what Jake saw clearly enough.
“Any observations?” Jake invited of Brandon as Troy came trotting up to them noisily.
Brandon glanced over his shorthand. “Jack will be a good runner, so will Evan,” he said of two juniors. “Jimmy’s not very fast or suited to running, but solid. First base, maybe. And Junior in the outfield, he’s got the endurance to do the distance. Not sure about the eye, though.” He looked up to see all three men staring at him. It was starting to get a little unnerving. “What?” he asked for about the millionth time.
Jake stifled laugh and shook his head. “All right, then,” he responded without answering. “Let’s break ‘em up,” he ordered as he stepped away from the fence and bellowed the order.
“Do I want to know what that was about?” the science teacher muttered as they followed the varsity coach back out onto the field.
“You never know,” Jonathan laughed with a shake of his head. The kids trudged out obediently and began to work the same drills from yesterday. Jake worked them until the sunstarted to go down, then called a halt to the activities and had the kids start putting up the equipment.
“You put up your own equipment until the day someone offers to pay you to play ball!” Jake was shouting as he watched. “If I see you letting someone else do the work, I’llmakework for you!”
Brandon stood near third base, watching the tired kids scurry. Hell, he was tired just looking at them. Soon the field was clear, and he walked to join the others at home base.
“Tomorrow we’ll start making lists,” Jake told the coaches as they gathered around him. Light was fading quickly now, and he glanced around the field to make certain it was clear. “By Friday we’ll have the teams set. Sound about right?” The others nodded obediently, and Jake refrained from rolling his eyes. “See you guys tomorrow,” he told them, giving one of the college kids a slap on the back that had him staggering forward as Jake turned and headed for the gate.
Jonathan waved goodbye to Brandon, who nodded an answer before starting to walk back to the gym himself. Troy whizzed off in that golf cart—where onEarthdid he get that thing and why did Jake tolerate it?—and the biology teacher found himself walking through the parking lot in the dusk. It was quiet and cool, and he shivered a little.
Jake flopped down on the steps near the entrance, dragged off his cleats, slid into his trainers and stood again slowly, shouldering his heavy equipment bag as he watched the other guys head off. He watched Brandon for a moment, not even sure what he was thinking at that point. It annoyed him that he couldn’t make up his mind about the guy. He stood and stretched, his long body arching gracefully, then he turned to head for the road and the walk home.
Spur of the moment, Brandon piped up. “You good to get home, Coach?” he asked neutrally as he came to a clacking stop on the concrete with the cleats.
Jake turned around and looked back at the man. “Yeah,” he called in answer. “I plan to hijack Troy on the road and steal his golf cart,” he said seriously. “I figure even if he hits me with it, it can’t do much damage,” he snickered.
Brandon’s nose wrinkled in a smile. “Why the hell do you let him drive that insane thing?” he asked.
Jake veered off the grass and strolled back into the parking lot. “He drives it to work,” he answered with a smirk. “He lives about a mile that way,” he pointed in the opposite direction of his own house. “He’s cheap and lazy. A fearful combination when you add shameless and resourceful.”
Unable to stop the snicker, Brandon just shook his head. “That’s just incredible,” he commented, eyes dancing.
Jake gave a slight smile and nodded, looking out into the darkness of the road he would be walking. It was an interesting mix of feelings, the need to get home combined with a curious desire to keep talking with a man he had never had much to do with before. Well, there was an easy way to solve that predicament. “You know, if you don’t mind, I might take you up on the offer of a ride,” he said with another glance at Brandon. “Gets dark too early.”
“No problem,” Brandon replied easily, stopping at the door. “I just need to grab my pack and change my shoes. Be right back.” He ducked inside, shoes clacking on the hard floor.
Jake groaned quietly and flopped his big body to sit on the steps to wait. He was going to have to start actually driving to work. Just because he felt like a walk in the morning didn’t mean he would twelve hours later.
It only took Brandon a couple of minutes, and then he was back outside. “I parked back here this morning,” he pointed tothe car about halfway back in the lot. “Figured it would make the evenings easier.” He offered Jake a hand up.
Jake reached up for the hand without a second thought, letting the man pull him to his feet with a slight groan. “My ass is too old for this,” he complained good-naturedly as he walked beside Brandon toward the car.
Brandon laughed. “Yesterday you said we weren’t old!” he pointed out.
“It’s just certain parts of me, that’s all,” Jake answered defensively, grinning as he hitched his equipment bag higher.
“The whole young at heart thing is clichéd, but I think it still applies,” Brandon said, digging into his pack for his car keys as they approached the Jetta. “To you, anyway.”
“Oh yeah?” Jake asked in slight amusement. “Why’s that?”