Chapter 11: Field of Dreams

The start of spring brought back mobility. With clearer roads, I had safer use of the Honda, and easier running with Ned. Greta had her fourteenth birthday in February. It was a little too cold for a camping trip, so her Dad took her shopping in Portland instead. Boy did she shop! She came back with a truckload of new clothes and a Honda Super Cub like mine. Matching mobility!

A few days later, we arranged to be alone at my house, and we got naked and did a little exploring. Greta Porter naked is even more breathtaking than Greta Porter clothed! Greta Porter naked and exploring my body with her lips and tongue is somewhere far, far beyond breathtaking. I did manage to take her breath away twice that first time. We agreed that we were going to wait to have actual intercourse, at least until we were sophomores. It was a pledge, crouched above a naked, panting and enthusiastic Greta, that I could have easily broken. I managed, but oh how excruciating honor can be.

February also brought baseball with it. Baseball tryouts were held on the fifteenth and sixteenth, a Thursday and Friday.

I was one of three kids who tried out for first base. I was the only left-handed one, and the tallest, but Doyle Stokes had a lot more experience at the position than I did, and had already played a lot of first base the previous two years. Graduation had claimed last years starter at the position, and Doyle saw this as being his year.

I might have been relegated to second string first baseman, but I clobbered the ball when I got my turn at the plate. I stroked three really long screaming line drives and one shot high off the fence.

"Coach Greer told me you were a big hitter," Coach Mantee said from behind the batting cage. "You have a good swing too. You keep it up and we're going to have to find a position for you to play on a regular basis."

Once again Wade Wilkins was there, being the other new guy. His gun of an arm for football turned out to be a pretty big gun for baseball too. His fastball had a lot of fast in it, and he had a hard breaking curve that could be hard to get a handle on. Coach was very happy to have us trying out, and he showed his appreciation by working us even harder.

I'm not a sucker for much, but in my first life, I was a sucker for the combination of Kevin Costner and baseball. Two of my absolute favorite movies of all time were 'Bull Durham' and 'Field of Dreams'. I think it was because both movies offered such open, heartfelt views of the soul. Bull Durham gave you a view into the soul of the sport as seen through the eyes of the people who played it. Field of Dreams sort of did the reverse; it peered into the souls of those who loved baseball, and used baseball itself as the microscope. I loved those movies, and if I believed what had been hinted at by Armored Sam Kendall was true, they weren't likely to get made this time around. I made a personal pledge to myself to squeeze as much of those feelings into whatever baseball I wound up having between now and whenever the mystery date in the future as I could.

Baseball looked as if it was going to be interesting. In addition to Joe, Wade and I, there were quite a few familiar faces from the football and cross country teams, including, to my surprise, Boyd Curtis, who was hoping to be Brian's replacement at catcher once he graduated.

School was going well, though there had been a few bumps. A composition I had written for English class had caused a bit of a stir. The title said it all. 'Cultural Attitudes and their effects on Sexual Equality.'

I know, it sounds like a thesis, but the actual paper was not so dry. In it I mostly railed against the opposition to women's equality in America, and the attitude, unsupported by anything except anecdotal evidence, that women were somehow the 'weaker' sex. Mrs. Irving loved it, but she was afraid it wouldn't be well received by the principal, the superintendent of schools or the school board.

Yes, I was using my second chance to say some things I'd always regretted not saying the first time around. So sue me!

Greta loved it, as did Carrie. Carrie perhaps more than Greta. Greta's mom loved it as well, and though I felt I had been liked well enough in the Porter household, I was subsequently elevated to even more of a 'member-of-the-family' status.

Over the course of the winter I had talked to Mr. Porter quite a bit. What I had seen of his ranch had suggested to me that he was planning a dude ranch, or something similar. He confirmed that, and we talked about the plans he had for the upcoming spring and summer. The river played a big part in his plans.

"The Columbia is the real star of any sort of back-to-nature experience in this area, Sammy," he told me one night. "It dominates the entire region, and always has. Water is life, they always say, and the Columbia is life on a large scale then, right?"

I had to agree, and that conversation gave me a clue, perhaps one reason why I was the one, or one of the ones who had been singled out to be a focus. I knew the Columbia, and appreciated it.

I signed up on the spot. Mr. Porter was looking for experienced ranch hands, and I wasn't one, but when I told him I'd be willing to work for nothing more than room and board, he had to ask why.

"A agree with you about the Columbia, and with this cold war talk and everything, I think having the kind of skills you're talking about needing for this operation may be important some day. At least as important as putting a little money in the bank."

"What about college?" he asked. "Don't you need to save for that?"

"I have a college fund, and its full enough for four years of college. I don't see myself becoming a doctor, or something that would take more college than that, but even if I do wind up wanting that, there's time to earn for that and do this too."

"Okay, we'll do it that way, Sam. But I'm even paying the kids something for their work in the business, so as soon as I decide you're earning your keep, you're going to get a paycheck, okay?"

So the deal was done. We shook on it and went back to enduring the winter. When spring, and baseball season began to bring it back to the forefront though, I began spending even more time at the Porter ranch. Well, it was becoming the Porter Ranch, both words capitalized. The first paying customers were due a week after school got out.

The big spring dance was sponsored by the freshman class, and was scheduled for Friday, the sixteenth of March. Greta and Sissy Mitchel were the two co-chairs for the planning committee, and got together over at Sissy's one night to brainstorm a plan. I was there mostly as Greta's boyfriend and Bennie was there in something of the same capacity with Sissy. The rest of the planning committee were all Hermiston kids, so most of the meetings would have to be at school, but Greta and Sissy wanted to get a head start.

"We need a theme," Sissy said. "The Juniors have already laid claim to West Side Story for the Junior/Senior prom this year."

"Do we want to do a movie theme too?" Greta asked.

"What? Swiss Family Robinson?" Bennie asked. It had been the big movie the past year, at least for kids. Perhaps too much so for these purposes.

"How about Ben Hur?" I suggested. "Roman Togas and the Ides of March and all that?"

I wasn't thinking of John Belushi's and Animal House when I said it, but I flashed on it once I had, and smiled.

"What?" Greta said. I was still formulating a response when Bennie saved me.

"He's just picturing you wearing a toga. A short toga."

I got a slug on the arm, but accompanied by a big smile, so I just nodded in agreement.

"Yup. Sorry," I said.

"No you're not, but that's okay." Greta said, scrunching up to me a little tighter than before.

So they decided to run that idea by the rest of the committee and see what they thought.

Meanwhile, baseball practice was in full swing. Bob Nileson's big brother Chuck, a Senior, was the team's catcher, no doubt about that. Karl Harding, who had been one of the guys from Mr. Greer's big game this summer wanted a shot as backup catcher, but he was going to have to fight Boyd for the job. It was a tough call, in my mind, because Boyd had a gun for an arm and looked to be a better hitter, but I felt like Karl knew how to manage his pitchers far better than Boyd did.

I was still learning new things, or relearning old ones, every day. I had a much better eye at the plate this time around, and in addition to the new power at the plate, I was slowly developing into a difficult out as I learned to judge the strike zone and the pitches I saw from our pitchers. I remembered being very much a hit-or-miss prospect at the plate in my first life.