Junior Year Box Set

That might have been an impulse buy that my mother wouldn’t be happy with. I reasoned that this girl shouldn’t be in possession of them, anyway. Nicki rolled his eyes at me. I didn’t need that from my security. I was about to face my mother.

◊◊◊

Phil saw me first.

“Is that …? Cool! You’re so dead,” he said in quick succession.

“Did you buy cats?” Yuri asked.

“Big cats. These are tiger cubs,” I clarified.

Roc snapped a picture with his phone.

“What are you doing?” I asked as he tapped away on his phone.

“My sister said I was supposed to keep an eye on you and not let you buy anything stupid.”

“Wrestling masks are okay, but you draw the line at tiger cubs? It’s sometimes hard for us Hollywood types to know when we’ve gone too far,” I said, with my sarcasm meter turned to eleven.

As we walked back to the bus, people stared at me, and not in the normal ‘we’re fans’ way. More the ‘is that kid brain-damaged?’ concerned expression.

My phone chirped, and there was a text from my mom with a crying emoji. I wondered if that was her or what she planned to do to me.

“Hey, Nicki? You’d protect me from my mom, wouldn’t you?” I asked.

Everyone thought that was funny.

“No, seriously,” I said.

Crud! I was on my own. We came around the corner to the aisle that our bus was on.

“David Allen Dawson!”

“Sucks to be you,” Wolf observed.

I put on my excited ten-year-old expression.

“Look what I bought,” I said as I rushed up.

My grandmas Dawson and Felton began to laugh. Mom glared at them.

“Don’t give me that look, Missy,” Grandma Felton said. “This is payback from when you were a little monster.”

“Wherever did you find these?” Grandma Dawson asked as she took one from me, and the little critter rewarded her with a ‘rah.’

Cassidy snuck up and snatched the other one. I guess the girls wanted to see my new pet.

“Some girl had them in the back of her truck. I’m guessing she thought keeping them under a tarp in this weather was acceptable. I essentially saved them,” I tried, and struck a heroic pose.

“You’re such a good boy,” Grandma Dawson said.

I would bet my mom didn’t believe that.

“Of course, you can’t keep them,” Grandma Dawson added.

My mom’s frown turned upside down.

“Why not? They need me,” I said, reverting to my ten-year-old self.

I forgot to do the foot stomp. Must be out of practice.

“Bless his heart,” Grandma Felton said.

With that declaration, I was screwed. I was marched onto the bus. Phil grabbed the bag of masks, and the guys started to go through them.

“Hey, I get first pick. I paid for those,” I told the guys.

They let me sort through and choose the ones I liked best. I grabbed five for all the little ones for when they got older, and then picked out ones for Greg, Uncle John, Dad, and myself. I let my Lincoln teammates each take one, and there was one left over. Somehow Cassidy ended up with it. I could just see us in the dojo wearing our masks as we sparred. Shiggy would love it.

I got off the bus first and found Dad and Uncle John in the lobby. Somehow, they had gotten to play golf with some of the other dads, while I had to go shopping.

“Mom took my tigers,” I said, telling on her.

I knew no one liked a tattletale, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do.

“Oh, shit, he’s not lying,” Uncle John said as Mom and Grandma Dawson walked in carrying them.

“Look what your son bought,” Mom announced.

“Oh, now he’s my son?” Dad asked, throwing his hands in the air.

I hate my parents. It seemed everyone had an opinion about my purchase. I remembered my Grandpa Dawson grumbling that opinions were like pie holes … everyone had one.

Turned out, the hotel had a no-pet policy. They did help us find a place to board my acquisitions. A local veterinarian who knew what to do with exotic animals took them in.

◊◊◊

Our game tonight was at the good ballpark, Estadio de Beisbol. This game was sold out and would be televised. We hoped to get it in because there were threats of thunderstorms. We warmed up first, then Cuba because they were the visitors. When we finally got our turn, the stadium was already three-quarters full. It felt like it was going to be a great game.

Luke Cash, a cagey right-hander, was starting for us tonight. I’d been moved back to leadoff so I could get us started. I’d purposefully not talked to any of the guys I knew on the Cuban team before the game because I wanted to stay focused.

The Cuban crowd was great; I loved ’em. Before the game even started, they began chanting and blowing whistles. It reminded me more of a soccer game, the way the fans were acting. I suspected this would be fun.

My teammates seemed to be tight. I knew what I needed to do: I sent Phil into the stands to get Wolf. When we got back to the clubhouse for final instructions, Coach Kingwood started to talk.

“Hang on, Coach. I need my friend to tell the team some jokes,” I interrupted.

“By all means. You’re the Captain, after all.”

Somehow, I didn’t quite believe he meant that.