The first weekend in August finds you out for a hike along the Ridgeline Trail that encircles Jubilee Station. Up in the hills that cradle the town, you hear a chorus of cicadas and crickets all around you. The still forest air is thick with the scent of pine trees. You pause for a sip of cold water from the bottle in your backpack, and as you relax your eyes to take in the flocks of birds roaming through the tree canopy, you take a deep breath.
A few minutes later, you reach the observation deck that sits atop the Jubilee Ridge. You look down at Lucretia Mott College, and realize you can see your office window. The clouds overhead are painting shadows across the town. Over the river, in the distance, you can see that all of the greenhouses are open to the hot and sunny day.
Your phone chimes with a text message, from Kerri with the Puzzle Exchange. She says,
“Rec softball tonight at 7. There will be orange slices. Wanna play?”
You text back, “Yes! Thanks for asking. I’m not very good, so you should put me in the outfield.”
Kerri replies, “Who said anything about being good? See ya soon.”
You put away your phone and your water, taking up your hike again. A few other hikers pass you now and then, but until you reach the branch that extends down to The Everyone Playground, and toward your home, there are long stretches where you are alone with your thoughts.
When you get back to your house, you take a cool shower to rinse the sunscreen and bug spray off your skin. You realize in the shower that you have plenty of time in your afternoon for a nap before the softball game.
By the time your alarm gently calls to you, the sun is low enough in the sky that you wonder for a moment if you have slept all the way through to morning. Inspired by your own confusion, you wander into your kitchen, head still fuzzy, and begin making yourself an omelet for dinner. You chop up fresh tomatoes and peppers from the greenhouses, adding eggs courtesy of Fritz and Anna’s hens.
You take your breakfast-dinner out on the porch in bare feet, noticing the gentle warmth of your stone transom under your toes as you step out the front door. Grace and her family are on a road trip to Niagara Falls, so the baked potato buffet is taking a vacation this week. You make quick work of your omelet, washing it down with a tall glass of ice water. You brush a little bit of sweat away from your cheek as you rest your hands on your chest and take a slow breath.
As you return to The Everyone Playground for the softball game, you see Kerri, as well as Jacey from Tireless Mechanics, and a few other people you recognize from the Puzzle Exchange.
Kerri says, “Hello, You! Glad you could make it. We almost cancelled because so many people are away, but we figured it would be fun to gather the folks who are still around. Do you need a glove?”
You say, “Yes, thank you. It’s been a long time since I played, and I don’t own a glove.”
Jacey says, “Don’t worry about that. We’ve got supplies and snacks. In fact, I baked something special for the game. It’s a… bunt cake.”
Kerri says, “Jacey, never stop being you.” To you, Kerri says, “We might just take batting practice, depending on how many people show up. In fact, while we wait, let’s get you up there hitting dingers.” She hands you a helmet and a bat and says, “We’re just here to have fun.”
Standing on the pitcher’s mound is Ephraim, a high school kid who volunteers now and then with the Puzzle Exchange. He calls to you, “Are you ready to take some swings?”
You walk up to the plate and say, “Yes. Let’s see if I remember how this works.”
Ephraim pitches underhand to you, and the softball hangs in the air for what seems like forever. When it reaches the plate, you take a short swing and swat it back toward the pitcher’s mound. Ephraim laughs at this and says, “Okay, okay, keeping me on my toes. I see how it is.”
In the end, there are enough players to field two teams with no outfielders. The group agrees that any hit leaving the infield will count as a double. Everyone lingers over the orange slices between innings. You spend some time playing third base, chatting with the runners who end up there. In your last at bat, you manage to whack a hit over the fielders’ heads and onto the outfield grass. Everyone lets out a hearty cheer to endorse your work.
As dusk settles into the valley, both teams gather in the home team dugout, to finish off the orange slices and the bunt cake. Kerri comes up to you and says, “I hope that didn’t stress you out.”
You say, “Not at all. In fact, it was pretty relaxing.”
Kerri nods at this and says, “That’s the idea. Sometimes we win, sometimes we lose, sometimes it rains.”
You say, “Works for me.”
As you walk home for the night, the katydids are singing in the forest, and you spot glimpses of the half Moon overhead through the trees. The playground at the end of your block is empty. You feel a warm breeze coming down the ridge, and you take a relaxing breath.
The lamp next to the couch on your porch casts a soft glow on your front door. You linger on the transom for a moment, and savor the quiet of your neighborhood settling in for the night.
Leave a Reply