The hunting wind

CHAPTER 24

“Alex.”

I opened my eyes.

“Alex.”

I sat up straight in the hard wooden chair, feeling a sudden pain run down my neck and into my back.

“Alex.” His voice was low, like a whisper.

I looked across the room. Randy’s eyes were open.

“Do you need the doctor?” I said. I looked at my watch. It was after 11:00 P.M. I had gotten there at 9:00, just in time to catch the doctor writing out his charts at the nurses’ station. Randy had regained consciousness just after I had left that afternoon, the doctor told me. He still had some localized weakness on the left side of his body, but aside from that, he was doing remarkably well. They took the tube out of his throat and hooked up a minidose morphine drip. They had told him he had been shot, and that there was a county deputy stationed outside his door. He had been awake for a couple hours, but by the time I got back there, he was asleep. I sat down in the chair and did the same. Now he was awake again, and I didn’t know which question to ask him first.

“They told me what happened,” he said. He still had the bandages on, but without the tube running down his throat, he looked human again.

“Yeah,” I said. “I talked to the doctor.”

He looked toward the window. “What time is it?”

“Just after eleven.”

“Were you here the whole time?”

“No, I was up in Orcus Beach.”

He looked at me, then closed his eyes.

“The last thing I remember,” he said, “was going to her door.”

“Her daughter told you where she lives,” I said.

He opened his eyes again. “Yes.”

“Maria told me she thought you were Harwood,” I said. “Or somebody he sent.”

“You saw her.”

“Yes. I saw her.”

“What else did she say?”

“She said a lot of things,” I said. “Of course, every single thing she said was a lie.”

“I could use something to drink,” he said.

“She’s a very good liar, isn’t she,” I said. “Not unlike yourself.”

“The doctor said I’m not supposed to talk too much.”

“You may have some permanent damage to your vocal cords,” I said. “That’s gonna affect your technique a little bit.”

“Alex…”

“I know the whole story,” I said. “Your record in California, the arrest warrant waiting for you when you get back. That deputy’s been sitting outside your door the whole time.”

“You should have gone home,” he said.

“I called your family. I thought they should know.”

“Let me guess,” he said. “They were not overwhelmed with concern.”

“Your youngest son came the closest,” I said. “He seemed to care a little bit.”

Randy closed his eyes again.

“Feel free to tell me why you did all this,” I said. “Anytime. I’m all ears.”

“I didn’t lie to you,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I didn’t lie to you.”

“Good-bye,” I said, turning toward the door. “I’m gone.”

“Alex, wait.”

I stopped.

“I didn’t lie,” he said. “Not exactly. I just didn’t tell you everything.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Oh God,” I said. “Here we go. You should run for office, you know that?”

“Let me explain.”

I moved back. I stood over him with my arms folded across my chest. “Give it your best shot. First lie you tell me, I’m out the door. This time, I’ll know it. Believe me.”

He took a long breath and rested his head back on the pillow. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the heart monitor, still attached to his chest. Then be began.

“Everything they told you about me is true,” he said. “Everything and then some. I have no excuse for it, Alex. I’m not going to try to defend myself. All I can say is, there was a time, many years ago, when things were different. You knew me then. You knew how much I loved playing ball. It was the only thing I ever wanted to do. When I got my big chance and failed, it was all taken away from me. In one game, in one inning, it was all gone. I knew it right then. I knew I’d never get another chance. Even though I ended up getting kicked around in the minors for another six years, deep down I knew it was hopeless. I’d never get another shot.”

He paused to catch his breath.

“When I got sent up to Detroit, it was the best month of my life. When I met Maria, it got even better. I figured this was the girl I’d spend the rest of my life with. I’d be a big-league pitcher for twenty years and I’d go to the Hall of Fame one day, and she’d be there in Cooperstown with me, sitting in the front row. With our three kids. I could see my whole life opening up in front of me. I really could. When I got knocked out of that game, I went down into the clubhouse and I just sat there, Alex. I didn’t cry. I didn’t take a bat and destroy a television set or anything. I just sat there and thought to myself, This is what life is really like. Dreams don’t come true. Things don’t happen just because you want them to. Nothing is fair. Nothing is really good. Are you following me, Alex?”

“Keep going,” I said.

“All I’m trying to say is, in that exact moment, I saw things the way they really were. This girl I was spending so much time with, this beautiful, wonderful Maria, she didn’t really love me. She was just setting me up. It was all a big scam.”

“Giving up seven runs made you realize that.”

“The night before the game,” he said. “She told me about this debt her father had, going all the way back to the old country. He couldn’t repay it. No matter how she begged him, this man was so old-fashioned, he was willing to take his whole family back to Europe just so they could work as servants in some guy’s house to repay the debt to him. I told her I’d help her take care of the problem. She was so happy. Then I stopped thinking about it, because I was too preoccupied with the game. When I was sitting there in the locker room, watching my whole life go down the drain, I finally thought about it again, the whole story. A debt from the old country. They needed money. My God, Alex. Can you imagine? I was buying it. The whole thing. All the time we had spent together. It was all coming together. On that day, after what had happened to me, I could finally see it.”

“Okay, so you figured out she was a con artist,” I said. “And you blew her off. Why come back now? It’s a long time to wait for revenge.”

“I had already gotten my revenge,” he said. “Or so it turns out anyway. There was this man in Detroit named Harwood. He was trying to put together a deal with my father. The minute I met him, I hated him. You ever meet somebody like that?”

“Yes,” I said. “Just last night, in fact.”

“He was such a fraud. Everything he did, everything he said, it was all such an act. He was the most arrogant, pompous jackass I had ever seen in my life. And here he was, trying to suck up to me just because he wanted something out of my father. He made my skin crawl. He came to the game. Did you know that? He was there. I saw him a couple days afterward at the Lindell. I was getting drunk. Again. With Maria a couple blocks away, with her whole con artist family, probably putting the screws on some other sucker even as I was sitting there. And in walks Harwood, just the man I needed to see that night. He starts telling me how sorry he was I had gotten blown out of the game, how embarrassing it must have been, all this other crap. I could tell he was loving it. If he hadn’t still been trying to put the moves on my father, he’d have been standing there laughing at me. So I told him he really needed to go see Madame Valeska down the street to get his fortune told. It would really be an eye-opening experience for him, and he’d really get something out of it. I was hoping he’d go see them. I was really hoping. I knew they’d put him through the wringer. He was such a sleazebag. He was smart about money, but I knew he’d lose his head over Maria. And Maria would actually have to spend time with him. Even… get close to him. So in the end, they’d both get what they deserved.”

He stopped. He looked out the window, at nothing but darkness.

“Is that why you came back?” I said. “To see what they’d done to each other all these years?”

“No,” he said. “Don’t you understand? I had no idea. I didn’t even know if Harwood ever went to see them. I was long gone by then. And I never looked back.”

“You had no idea?”

“When we found her family’s house,” he said, “when they told us about Harwood and how they thought he had sent us? That was the first time I had heard his name in nearly thirty years. It was the first time I had even thought of him. It was just a drunken, spur-of-the-moment thing when I saw him that last time in Detroit. My little good-bye present to both of them. I never dreamed it would become something like that. It was all my fault, Alex. I made it happen. At that point, I didn’t want to drag you into it anymore, so I sent you home. I wanted to see if I could… I don’t know. I guess I was thinking I could fix things somehow. I wanted to try to help her.”

“Why even bother? After what she did to you?”

“I remember it so well,” he said. “How it felt. Back in 1971, when I realized she was just setting me up. All those things she said to me. All those lies. It was so easy to believe, because I wanted it to be true. I wanted it too much. When I was finally done playing out the string in baseball, when I finally went home, I knew I had to start acting like a real grown-up. My father’s business was doing well. Everybody was expecting me to take it over someday. I tried to do it the right way, Alex. I tried to work hard, the same way my father did. But then when the real estate market crashed out there… I was afraid I was going to lose everything. Again. The same feeling, everything going down the drain again. There was this woman, one of our clients. She was very rich. She liked me. I could talk her into anything. It was so easy, Alex. It was so easy.”

“Okay,” I said. “A con man is born. I can fill in the rest. But you still haven’t told me why you came back in the first place. Before you knew anything about Harwood, when it was just you deciding to come back here after all these years. You could have made things right with your family. You could have tried at least. Why did you come back here?”

“Think about it,” he said. He managed a weak smile. “When was the last time everything was good, Alex? When was the last time I was on top of the world?”

“When, Randy?”

“When I was pitching for Toledo, and Alex McKnight was behind the plate, that was the last time I had it right. That was the last time I felt like I could do anything I wanted to. After that, it was all downhill, Alex. On roller skates. Before I went down for good, I had to come back one more time. Just to see if I could be that person again.”

I just shook my head.

“And Maria. This is kind of crazy, but I may be the only person in the world who can understand her now. After everything I’ve done, you know what? You can love somebody, Alex. You can really love somebody, even though you know you’re using them.”

“Randy, that’s the most depraved thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s true,” he said. “I’ve been there. My family will never forgive me, Alex. And I don’t blame them. The people I’ve hurt, the people I’ve taken money from. They’ll never forgive me.”

“She barely remembered you,” I said.

“She remembers me.”

“No.”

“That’s what she said to you. I know she remembers me.”

“Yeah? You know that?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because we’re the same,” he said. “That’s how I know. We’ll always have a connection.”

“A connection,” I said. “That’s good. That’s real good. How about this instead? You know her so well, you gotta figure she’s got a lot of money stored up after all these years. Am I right?”

He didn’t say anything.

“You’ve worn out your welcome everywhere else. You know you’re about to take your last fall, so you figure, Why not? You’ll come back, see if you can tap into her again. After all these years.”

“No.”

“It was a long time ago. You don’t have much leverage. But you know she’s running something now. You get in on it. Or you threaten her, tell her you’ll scare away the mark, or God knows what. You’d think of something. Am I getting warm here?”

“No.”

“This was your last chance. Take her down, whatever you had to do. Take the money and run. Where else were you going to go, anyway?”

“You got it wrong.”

“Give me one reason why I should believe you.”

“Because I can’t lie to you.”

“You could lie to anybody,” I said. “You could look God himself in the eye and tell him the sky is green.”

“Not you,” he said. “I could never lie to you.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you’re my catcher.”

“Come on, Randy. Enough with that. It was thirty fucking years ago.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I’m telling you the truth, and you know it. I’ve got no reason to he to you now. In your bones, you know it. You just have to trust me.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

“You believe me, right?”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Tell me you believe me. I gotta hear you say it.”

“Randy…”

“Say it, Alex. Tell me you believe me.”

“Let me think about it,” I said. “I get nervous when people tell me I have to say things.”

“Is there really a cop outside?” he said. “Right now?”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t come in yet. He must have heard us talking.”

“Maybe he’s asleep. Do you think we’d wake him if we sneaked out of here?”

“I think he’d wake up, yes.”

“We could tie these sheets together,” he said. “And go out the window.”

“I hope you’re not serious.”

“I’m never serious,” he said. He rubbed the bandages around his neck for a moment. “Is she safe?” he finally said. “Tell me that much.”

“She’s safe,” I said. “Harwood’s dead.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No.”

He thought about it. He didn’t ask me anything more.

“You want me to get the doctor now?” I said.

“Yes. I need some water.”

“You should call your family.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You know. You talked to them.”

“Call your son,” I said. “Terry, the catcher. He’ll want to know.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll do that.”

There wasn’t much else to say. When I finally said good-bye to him, I wasn’t sure how much I should hate him. In a way, he was exactly the same person I had known back in 1971. Now, almost thirty years later, after all the trouble he had caused me, I still couldn’t make myself hate Randy Wilkins. No matter how hard I tried.

And I still didn’t know if I believed him.

I drove home, four and a half hours straight north in the middle of the night. The sun was just coming up as I crossed over the Mackinac Bridge. There was still snow on the ground in the Upper Peninsula. As always, it felt like a different world. Maybe that’s why I came up here in the first place. And why I’ve stayed so long.

I went to my cabin and slept a few hours. When I got up, I found my old catcher’s mitt and wrapped it up in a cardboard box. I addressed it to Terry Wilkins, care of the UC-Santa Barbara Athletic Department. I got myself cleaned up and took the box to the post office.

And then, of course, I went to the Glasgow Inn for lunch. Where else was I going to go? Jackie was there waiting for me with a cold Canadian. He asked me about everything that had happened. I spent the rest of the afternoon telling him about it.

Around dinnertime, a wheelchair came through the front door. For one sickening second, I thought it was Harwood’s ghost come to get me. It was Leon, both of his ankles still in casts, his wife pushing the wheelchair.

We all had dinner together, and I got to tell the whole story again, this time for Leon. After dinner, I told Jackie to mix me up a vodka and root beer. “One slinky, coming up,” he said. It was truly awful.

We drank to the past. To money and to lies. To youth. To crazy left-handed pitchers.

We drank until the sun went down again on another day, keeping the fireplace fed and staying close to its warmth. Even when it’s springtime in the rest of the world, the nights are still cold in Paradise.