I started to feel sick. My head was pounding in rhythm with my heart. I felt like I couldn't get enough air in my lungs. I watched the dugout diligently, waiting to see Noah.
Zeke stepped out of the dugout and went to speak with the umpire. He glanced down at the catcher with disdain, but didn't say anything to him and his coaches. He turned to me, standing frozen on second. He said something else to the ump before jogging out to me.
He stood before me, like a tower, blocking out the sun. "Noah's okay."
I moved so he didn't block the dugout.
"The catcher is worse off. Trust me." He stepped in front of me again.
I finally looked up to him. Trust? Trust him? I couldn't even trust myself. Why would I trust him? I started to walk towards the dugout.
"He's fine. Stay on second." Zeke grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back. "You can check on him when we switch to defense. Stay here, be alert, and be ready to score." He didn't wait for my reply. He made sure I was still on base, then headed back to the batters box.
I could do this. Just stay where I'm at. Noah isn't going anywhere. He'll still be in the dugout when I get back. I repeated these thoughts in my head to calm myself.
The catcher ended up being carted off just like Jason. They sent out a replacement and the ump allowed the pitcher to throw a few warmups before letting Zeke get in the box.
Zeke got in the batters box and everyone started to cheer, already predicting another homerun. I stayed on second, not daring to lead off. I was hoping Zeke would hit a homer as well so I could get back to the dugout to see if Noah was really okay.
Zeke let the first two pitches go by as balls. Then he hit a line drive down the first baseline. I ran to third and saw Mr. Miller waving me on. I rounded third, but abruptly stopped. The new catcher was guarding home, waiting for the relay throw. I immediately backed up and stopped on third.
The crowd was shouting for me to score and my teams dugout was close enough for me to hear them saying I should have ran. I didn't care. I wasn't going to be another Jason or Noah.
The right outfielder was able to get the ball back in, just as Mahki and Zeke took a few steps back to their own bags. The bases were now loaded with Julian up to bat.
"Kid. You're too green." Mr. Miller said to me as I stood on third, nonmoving. "If you ran at full speed, you wouldn't have needed to slide into home, and you definitely wouldn't have collided with the catcher."
I didn't even turn to acknowledge his comment. I didn't mind being called green. I was new to the game so it's not much of an insult to me. I'm not at the point where I can judge if I'm fast enough when I'm running the bases.
Julian connected on one of the pitches and sent it to center field.
"Okay. Be ready to tag up and run home." Mr. Miller looked to the outfield and as soon as the fly ball was caught, he yelled out, "Go!"
I merely watched as the ball was returned to the infield and to the pitcher. Yells started to come from the stands, and not the friendly kind. Some were yelling at me for not scoring and other yelled that I needed to be replaced.
Mr. Miller came close and leaned in. He made eye contact with me. "Jake? What's happening? You've missed two scoring opportunities. That last one could have been an easy tag up, run home, and we would have scored another run."
I looked away and shifted away from him. Did he not see that last collision at home plate? I don't even know what tag up means. I wanted to go back to the dugout more than anybody, but I also didn't want to get hurt.
"Don't mind, Jake!" A booming voice came from the stands. Startled at how loud the voice was, I turned to look. Mr. Atkins was standing up in the sixth row of the bleachers. He saw me looking his way. He clapped. "You're doing great! Keep it up."
I saw Mrs. Atkins next to him giving me two thumbs up, just like Noah did earlier. So embarrassing. My lips twitched and I looked away from them. Sean was coming up to bat and I was hoping he would get a hit so I could go back already.
He got in the lefty's box and stretched a little. The pitcher eyed me on third, but I wasn't even leading off. He nodded and focused strictly on the batter. Sean didn't lose out to him though. On a 1-2 count, he was able to hit a grounder between third and short. I jogged home.
Mahki was right on my heels, sprinting all the way from second. 5-0. Sean was able to pull off a two-RBI single. Zeke had stopped at second.
Mahki grabbed Sean's bat and we headed back to the dugout. Coach was there waiting for me, but I walked by him, looking for Noah.
"Jake." Coach's voice was filled with displeasure, but I ignored it. I found Noah by our bags just hanging out with Dave.
I took off my helmet and stood in front of him, unsure of what to do. Where did it hurt? Does he need to go to the hospital? I shifted from foot to foot, trying to find the words.
