Show Me the Way Home
"It's the best I can do in short notice."
Peter Enloe makes it into major league baseball, but blows out his right ACL just before turning 33. It's alright though because his momma's smart, they still have the sports bar, and between them they invested enough money for them to live comfortably.
Peter still needs a job.
He goes home for a spell and on a whim goes to one of his old high school's baseball games.
They're… ok.
The pitcher could work on his arm a little more, and the first baseman's grip on the bat is shaky, but Peter sees plenty of improvement. He petitions his old school the very next day.
Granite Hills High School is thrilled to have him as a coach of course. An alumni and former pro-player, Peter offers a wealth of wisdom for public school cost. Surprisingly he finds himself teaching English when he's not on the field. He had always loved the effectiveness of the spoken word. It could inspire one to fight back against injustice in the world, or to offer the most heartfelt of apologies.
The smell of fresh cut grass, the dull thud of a baseball falling into a mitt, the words of his former high school coach echoed in his ear during every major league game he played and every day afterwards. "I need a team of fighters, not crybabies!"
Coach Earl Rowley.
The man who shaped his entire adulthood passed away from pancreatic cancer the same day Peter won the most important game of his life. He hated the man, but loved him as a father at the same time.
The former pro athlete read up on his old mentor and understood why the man became so harsh. When Coach was not much older than him, he had already been fighting in a war half a world away. Coach Rowley received his purple heart at the cost of his baseball career, and raged against the whims of the pitiless world by forcing him into a dead-end job in this one horse hometown. His baseball game was a war field, where the weak died and only the strong survived.
Peter's life is different though. He chose to come back, even though he could have stayed and coached at a more elite and well-paid position. He knows just the right balance between encouragement and sternness. Different players required different teaching styles, not just the cruelty of Coach Rowley.
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The years pass on. With Peter's coaching, the school's baseball team wins a few division titles, but most importantly, he mentors a few gifted students – both on and off the field.
He is what Coach should have been thirty years ago.
Some kids go on to have successful baseball careers, but others became lawyers and social workers fighting for the betterment of their peers. Peter's just as proud of the latter. Always he sought to improve the youth around him. Fatherless sons with working mothers and broken homes, he counseled them all because he knew the difficulty of growing up in that environment.
He's getting old. His joints hurt, and he can't see as clearly, but he can still knock one out of the park. The school hosts his retirement party, and he gets to see a former student of his take over as baseball coach. Everything comes full circle.
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He's been musing on the blessing that Coach Monica (God, what looker) had offered him when he was young and in the prime of his life.
"May the road rise before you
May your swing be straight
May the ball fly high and far
And may God himself bring you home."
Peter Enloe naps quietly at home. His wife died a few years back and his children promised to visit with the grandkids, but their worried looks signal the inevitable.
Soft as a whisper, "Home, come home, kid."
He opens his eyes. A handsome, long haired man with an easy smile takes his hand and helps him up. There is no pain, no sudden implosion. The years fall away and he is eighteen again. Peter recognizes the Angel of Death but feels no fear, because behind the figure is a man in a familiar red baseball uniform.
Coach Rowley stands with a proud smile on his face, just the same as when Peter slid into home plate during that momentous game.
"You better have taken good care of my bat, Peter. There's a game waiting on you."
Second in this series. I'm debating putting this all under one story umbrella, but I kind of want to knock out some of the non Touched by an Angel stories littering this category. I have a feeling that many of my stories, like Neil Gaiman says, will all end in death.
Anyways tell me your thoughts,
Grignard