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small patches of melting snow. The dirt infield was ruffled and the empty stands created an overwhelming sense of emptiness that forced Olivia’s spirits to swoon.
To the left of the pitchers mound was Walter Mann, along with Chaz, Ohil Rodney, and Joann Triplet. Situated between them was a large, rectangular object covered with a cloth sheet.
Olivia looked left, noticing Frank limping quickly behind her. Olivia licked her lips and wanted another reassuring look from Frank. Instead, his eyes narrowed, focused on reaching the rest of the group.
Once inside the infield, Frank’s arm slid around Olivia’s waist. The rest of the group said nothing and remained relatively motionless, except for Chaz shifting his weight from one leg to another. Phil Rodney spoke first.
“Well um, Olivia, let me be the first to say how glad we are to have you with us again. Phil feigned a smile as Olivia’s hair was tossed around by the wind. Olivia forced a courteous grin, although it was difficult.
Phil turned to face Walter, who stood with his arms folded tightly around his ribs. While wearing his Sheaville Loggers uniform, the manager spoke slowly; his thick, southern dialect clearly evident.
“We have something that we want ya to get, er to have. We hope that you will like it. Well, we think you will. And it means a great deal to us to give it to ya.”
Olivia looked down as Frank Miller reached forward, removing the cloth.

XXXIII
The rolling, rock-filled Sheaville cemetery at the end of town was full of jutting, jagged tombstones and plaques, naming generations of loved ones whose life intersected with the old logging town in some way.
Olivia clumsily scaled the steep mountainside, balancing her hand against the ground when she felt unbalanced and holding her backpack firmly over her right shoulder.
As she approached the top of the mountain, the mountaintop broadened at the tip, revealing an acre of open, flat space littered with tombstones and grave markers.
Olivia felt her calf muscles burning as she began scouring the field.
Towards the end of the last row of tombstones, Olivia came across two flat brown plaques featuring copper lettering. She carefully slid the backpack down her right arm and laid it softly on the grass.
In front of her were the plaque grave markers of two of the Triplet family: Roger and Shane. Olivia began crying violently as she reached forward and stroked her hand over the lettering of both tombstones.
After a few minutes of repetitive stroking, Olivia turned her attentions towards Shane’s gravestone. Shane’s date of death was October 14 and Olivia remembered that he was in a coma for nearly six weeks after collapsing at the Sheaville Fall Festival.
Olivia wiped the streaming tears from her cheeks and leaned back while shifting her legs together.
“Hey. Hey Shane, its me, Olivia.” She laughed. “Somehow, I probably think you know that. I just wanted to tell you that Bradeon is doing so well. He is such a happy baby. Oh, and he sleeps real well at night. Chaz says he takes after you in terms of being able to sleep a lot.” Olivia grinned while she wiggled to get herself closer to the grave marker.
“You know, he looks like you too. He’s got your blue eyes and your smooth skin.” Olivia reached into the backpack and pulled out a picture of Braedon that was taken at the hospital after he was born. “I brought you a picture and I am going to put it here Shane so you can see your son.”
Olivia grabbed some masking tape from the backpack, tore off a generous piece, and then taped the lower right corner of the picture onto the plaque. Tears began streaming down her face once again.
“Mr. Rodney, Mr. Miller, Daddy, Jack Busby, you manager, and some other people in town bought you your nice grave plaque. I think you would like it. Shane, I have tried to figure out what I miss most about you. I really miss everything. I am going to miss even more. Your son is going to miss out on so many things too.” Olivia sighed deeply. “I miss the way you hold me and the way your hair laid on your head when you sweat, and the feeling of you pressed against me. I wanted to take Braedon to Clark Field or wherever and watch you play.”
Olivia heard the wind and watched as it stirred the trees into a collective vertical dance as the mostly barren branches waived sideways in unison.
By this time, Olivia could feel her chest tighten and her stomach quiver.
“Most of all Shane, I wanted to build a life with you. You know how I know that? When you and I were together and when we were apart, I knew it. My heart felt it. It felt that emptiness. When you were with me, my heart knew that you were the missing piece in my life. But I know now that we cannot have that life together. I can have that life with Braedon…our son. I know that as long he is here, you will never die.”
As the howling wind increased, Olivia was now brushing locks of hair away from her eyes. She leaned down and lightly kissed Shane’s grave plaque.
Olivia rose to her feet, gathered her backpack and began backpeddling away from Shane’s grave. Focusing intently at Roger Triplet’s grave marker, Olivia whispered “I will take care of your grandson too.”
“ I am certainly glad to hear that.”
The voice startled Olivia, but then Joann Triplet emerged from behind Olivia. Joann’s red hair was pulled back and she was wearing a Sheaville Loggers baseball cap along with a brown sweatshirt and jeans.
Joann’s mind was scrambling while choosing her words carefully. “I did not mean to scare you. Your daddy told me you were here. I just wanted you to know that I got a letter yesterday from the Cincinnati Reds. Shane was going to be called up to Chattanooga, Tennessee. The letter said he would be a member of the two-A Chattanooga Lookouts.” Joann’s head lowered. She looked at Olivia with a deeply saddened face.
“My boy did what he said he was going to do. He told me a few months back that we would leave Sheaville and he would play baseball someplace else. He did it. The Reds said he was the best prospect in their farm system. I guess that’s a good thing.”
Olivia smirked, while extending her hands, palms upright, towards Joann. Joann stepped forward and obliged the gesture, interlocking her fingers around Olivia’s.
“Someone named Biggie or something like that also made it to that Tennessee team and so were Ryan Head and your, well….Chaz.. Imagine that. All of those boys would be teammates again and all for the same team. Shane loved them all like brothers, even though I hear that Big person gave my boy some trouble.”
“What will you do now, Mrs. Triplet?” Olivia’s voice sounded reedy.
“I don’t know. I think I will stay. I hope to tell my grandson about his daddy and his grandpa and what they meant to Sheaville…and what Sheaville meant to them.”
Olivia’s eyes gazed forward, over Joann’s hair. Faintly, Olivia could see the outlining of Sheaville at the base of the cemetery.
Without warning, the light at Clark Field flashed on. The back portion of Sheaville’s downtown was illuminated in a faint white glow that radiated under the cloudy sky.
Olivia knew that somehow Shane was there too, ready and willing to support another Sheaville baseball prospect.


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Publication Date: 07-12-2009

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