The Boy From Left Field
“Inside, he led the way down a dark hallway, one that smelled of cigarettes, hot spices, and burnt coffee. Then into an apartment, dingy, but clean-looking, with some modern furniture and a good-sized television. There was a small, beat-up piano pushed against the far wall, with some music sheets set up on it.
“You play?” Panny asked, pointing to the instrument.
“My mom’s teaching me,” Elroy said. “I’m catching on a little.”
He led them into a small bedroom. Baseball posters covered ...one wall — Jeter, A-Rod, Jackie Robinson, and a team shot of the Tampa Bay Rays. There was a map of the world on another wall, a full bookcase, and a table with a laptop, a cellphone, MP3 player, and other assorted electronics.
Hawk glanced at the rumpled bed and shivered. His baseball glove — it must be his! — lay there beside a bat with a chipped, nearly split handle.
Elroy caught his look, frowned, then walked to the bed and retrieved the glove.MoreLess
“You play?” Panny asked, pointing to the instrument.
“My mom’s teaching me,” Elroy said. “I’m catching on a little.”
He led them into a small bedroom. Baseball posters covered ...one wall — Jeter, A-Rod, Jackie Robinson, and a team shot of the Tampa Bay Rays. There was a map of the world on another wall, a full bookcase, and a table with a laptop, a cellphone, MP3 player, and other assorted electronics.
Hawk glanced at the rumpled bed and shivered. His baseball glove — it must be his! — lay there beside a bat with a chipped, nearly split handle.
Elroy caught his look, frowned, then walked to the bed and retrieved the glove.MoreLess
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