Clutch Hit by Faith O'Shea (books to improve english .txt) 📕

also refers to the Hobbit village in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. Hobbits had value, and the future of Middle Earth was in their hands. I don’t suppose you’ve read it.”

“Actually, I have read the first book. I picked it up in Rotterdam when a British player told me they were good stories. I meant to read the rest but have never gotten to them.”

“The movies are good as well. You should watch them.”

“Maybe when you are away, I will do a search.”

They would make him think of her while she was gone, although he didn’t think he’d need any more reminders than her personal belongings scattered around the condo. Given the number of shoes she had, he doubted she followed her own rules about excess.

“Come on. We’re done. Mickey’s been working with Mac for a year and knows what he’s doing. He was a good fit for the position. Played ball for the Astros and Mets and has a wealth of knowledge under his belt.”

Once the goodbyes were attended to, they walked out of the office and into the muted sunshine. He slipped on his sunglasses and looked toward the small stadium. “This is where your players start out.”

“Most of them. The ones drafted, anyway.”

As they moved in tandem, he asked, “How long does it take to move to Triple A?”

“Depends on the player, how motivated, how talented, how adaptable.”

“How long was Seb here?”

“He wasn’t. He went right to Cranston. It was a shame he couldn’t have moved up to the majors before now, but we had a great fielder out there. He had to wait his turn.”

Seb had told him that he might be up only for the year or until the outfielder’s knee was healed.

“Once the guy is ready, will he be back? And if he is, where will Seb go from there?”

“Atticus has made it known he’s done. He’s seen others go through the rigors of physical therapy and how long it takes to get back the flexibility. He was only giving himself another year or two before retirement and figures the road to recovery will take that long. Seb’s here for the duration.”

He sighed in relief and then wondered, “Does Seb know?”

“We just found out yesterday. I’m meeting Seb before the wake tomorrow, and I’ll tell him then. I’m also going to ask him to get you to your driver’s test. As you know, I’ll be out of town that day.”

“If he can’t, we can postpone. The visa is more important than a driver’s license.”

She’d led him to the top of the concrete steps, and he had a bird’s-eye view of the field. It was snow covered, but he could tell from the scoreboard to the seating that it was in pristine condition.

“Our fields are not this well-kept.”

“I’ve read that. We want the best for our players, no matter what level they’re at. This was built just a few years ago and attendance went up by thirty per cent.”

He wasn’t sure better conditions would increase attendance in Cuba. Their seats were always full. Even in little league, mothers and fathers would fill the stands, cheering their children on. It was his mother who’d gotten him back and forth, sat with his grandfather and then alone after his death, a solitary figure set apart from the rest.

Alicia sat on the uppermost bench and patted the place beside her. It wasn’t as cold up here. The wall behind them buffered them from the chill. Once he’d joined her, she asked, “How did you get involved in baseball?”

He glanced over, trying to gauge how deep she wanted him to go. He couldn’t read her expression, so he gave her the short and sweet explanation.

“When my father left, my mother wanted to make sure I had things to do to keep me out of trouble. She enrolled me in one of the sport centers and I must have shown promise because I was selected to join the Camagüey little league. Even at that age, we participated for our municipality, played against others, like Holguin and Havana. The most talented were sent to sports academies and I was among them. They are schools, but much of our time was spent in vigorous athletic training and competition, after which we are chosen for the provincial teams. Those who achieve outstanding results are selected for the national team. I was lucky to be one of them.”

“You weren’t lucky, Mateo. You are talented and disciplined, and as you say it was your outstanding results that placed you there.”

“It became my life. There was very little to do where I come from.”

“There must have been more to do when you joined the nationals.”

“We traveled, yes, but we were watched, especially after the defections began.”

“You didn’t have much freedom then?”

“The only thing allowed was shopping in malls. There was shock with my first visit. So many stores, so much to choose from. No lines, no lack of things to buy. I didn’t buy much, because I not only had very little cash, but I was overwhelmed by the variety.”

“No malls in Cuba?”

“Not like in Rotterdam or Canada. Or here. There are open-air markets, more choices today than a few years ago, but we do not have the…merchandise to fill it with. Food is rationed, medicine is scarce. Some of my teammates who had relatives in America would ask them to send aspirin for our aches and pains.”

He thought he might go shopping at one of the local malls here. Buy to his heart’s content, anything that caught his eye, gaming equipment, clothes, athletic paraphernalia… savor the ability to have the purchase power needed to have everything he ever wanted. Suddenly he became aware of what he was doing, and he slammed the door on it. That’s how the others had gotten into trouble and he refused to go that route.

The wind had picked up and he noticed that Alicia shivered beside him and he stated the obvious.

“You’re cold.”

“I am. I guess we’d better head…back. I