July 16, 2004
His first ever day of training, and Matt already hated baseball.
A vast, seamless expanse of cornflower-blue sky stretched overhead, cloudless but for a few cottony wisps high in the air. Somehow they were both ethereal and unearthly, as if closer to the sun than the earth. Matt sprawled alone on the lowest platform of whitewashed bleachers, drowsily contemplating the hour upon which his mother would return to fetch him home from this underwhelming day. It couldn't be long now.
"...didn't you watch Matt? His stance was perfect."
Matt glanced up in surprise. Coach Wilson was on one knee, feverishly correcting a kid's - Matt had forgotten his name, though he'd learned it only a few hours ago - grip. Coach kept a straight face, but winked; Matt beamed back, feeling pleasurably conspiratorial. It was true; baseball was so easy it wasn't even fun. Coach had gushed and praised him, while the other boys swiftly transitioned from admiring him to resenting him. The four of them had stood stubborn and petulant, attempting swing after swing while Matt, on account of his "natural talent" got to chill in the shade.
A lone figure came into view from the far end of the stadium. Matt recognized the canary yellow sundress and felt a wave of relief.
"Coach," he cried. "My mom's here!"
"Already?" Coach straightened up and checked the thick black watch on his wrist. "Shoot, we're running overtime. Let's wind up, kids. See you tomorrow." He patted the pale, asthmatic red-haired child kindly on the shoulder. "Let's forget about it, Brian, we'll try again first thing tomorrow, yeah?"
Brian. That was his name. The boy nodded miserably and trooped away. Coach flopped down beside Matt, and produced a bottle of Gatorade from a cooler.
"Great show, Matt," he said fervently, wiping his lips after taking a long swig. "I can't remember the last time I saw talent like yours. You're a natural. You should really take this seriously."
Matt looked evasively away; how could he tell a baseball coach that the game held as much appeal for him as broccoli? He felt Coach's eyes on him, and despite himself he glanced back. His irises were an unsettling blue, almost violet; yet were congruous with youthful, almost boyish features. Only flecks of grey in wavy blonde hair gave him away; from a distance he could've passed for a college student.
"In fact, I'd like to speak to your mother. Can you call her over, Matt?"
Matt sighed, resigned. This would make it so much more difficult to tell her he wished to quit starting tomorrow. Valerie was already striding over to them, sunlit fabric fluttering around her slender form. Her dress was loose even though Matt was sure it was the smallest size; she'd been following some insane diet lately and lost a ton of weight. He waved enthusiastically, and her face broke into a wide smile.
"Hey, Mattie!"
She yanked off his cap and ruffled his hair playfully. Then she extended a bony hand to Coach, who'd risen to his feet and also managed to smoothen his hair.
"You must be Coach Aldrin. I'm Valerie Wynford, Matt's mother."
"Please, call me Liam," he cocked his head and ran his eyes over her body appraisingly, taking in her clothes hanging about her like a sack and the dark hollows under her eyes where her cheeks used to be. "Valerie, you must have been in your teens when you had him. You can't be more than twenty-two now. You. Are. Stunning."
Valerie looked dreadful, in Matt's opinion. She believed Coach, though, and actually giggled. "Had him at a completely respectable age, I assure you."
Coach was smiling, a dimple flashing elusively in one cheek. "Valerie - I should tell you, your son's the best in his group. Probably the best I've seen in a long time. He took to the bat like a fish to water, and all the other kids are getting pretty jealous."
"Wow Mattie, that's wonderful! I'm so proud!" She bent down and kissed his cheek; he was so eager to get out of there he didn't even brush her off like usual.
"He's good at anything he does," she gushed. "Smartest in his class, best at sports… the pride of the family."
Embarrassed, Matt began turning red. Both Coach and Valerie were staring down at him with similar expressions of pride.
"He has to attend every training this summer," Coach continued, looking thrilled to have found someone willing to listen to him sing Matt's praises. "Let him train with me regularly, and I assure you he'll be playing the National League at sixteen. If I'm being honest with you, I haven't seen a talent like his in years." His eyes crinkled and lit up with excitement when he smiled, somehow making him look even younger than before.
"Oh Matt, isn't that wonderful?" Valerie was practically bursting with glee. "You're going to be a star! And we're so lucky to have found you such a great Little League Coach, who's going to help develop your skills and make you famous." She beamed at Coach. He winked at Matt, who tried to suppress a scowl.
"Mom, I'm hungry," he complained, tugging at her dress. It was a lie, but at least it would make them leave this place faster. "Can we go home?"
"Sure, honey. You must be exhausted after all that practice. We can go." She took his hand and gave Coach one last delighted smile. "Thank you for everything, Coach Wilson. We'll see you tomorrow!"
Matt gave him a half-hearted wave, then scurried gratefully after his mother without a glance back.
***
"I want a coke, mom."
Valerie tucked back a lock of chocolate-brown hair over her shoulder. Her collarbones stood out sharply under the thin straps of her dress, painfully visible under the skin of her rake-thin body.
"This isn't that kind of restaurant Mattie, they only serve you healthy food here." It looked like the wrong kind of restaurant to Matt. Glass tabletops, flowers everywhere, soothing music playing, waiters walking around in sweats for some reason… he vastly preferred the colorful bustle of MacDonald's, though he only ever went there with Julio, unbeknownst to his mother. Valerie picked up the menu, flipped a couple of pages and began to read out suggestions to Matt, each more awful than the next.
"How about a kale-apple-beetroot smoothie?"
"Ew! I hate kale."
"Mattie… alright, how about a blend of carrot, spinach and banana?"
"G-ross, Mom. Is this why you've become so skinny lately? Because you only eat this awful stuff? I can hear you throwing up in the bathroom, you know."
Valerie's glance flickered upward but she quickly avoided his eye. A glow of perspiration appeared around her temples.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said huskily, then cleared her throat loudly. "Would you just pick something already?" She tried to sound impatient, but her voice shook. "Okay… what about juice then? Cucumber, crushed asparagus leaves, tomato, kaffir-lime and honey? That sounds lovely."
"Mom! Would you stop suggesting drinks that have vegetables in them? I just want a coke!"
"You can't have coke Mattie, all that sugar is really bad for you." Valerie exhaled heavily. "Okay then, how about a smoothie made of… blueberry, chia seeds and almond milk." She peeked over the menu at him hopefully.
Matt sighed. "Yeah, fine. Though I could've at least had a coke, considering I have to eat salad for lunch."
"It's Caesar salad, Mattie, it's got chicken in it. You'll love it."
"I'm sure it has kale," Matt muttered under his breath.
She reached across the table to pinch his cheek, her long white-tipped fingernails scraping lightly against Matt's face. Her fingers were skin and frail bone; he was afraid to even touch them for fear they would crack.
"If you eat healthy now, baby, you'll thank me when you're a famous baseball star."
Matt took a deep breath. It was now or never. "Mom, I hate baseball."
Valerie gave her tinkling laugh, as she did whenever he said something either clever, stupid or adorable. "It's only been your first day, sweetie. You'll take some time getting used to it."
Her bright eyes took on a glazed expression. "And won't we all be proud when you're in highschool and you're captain of the team, and then play varsity at college? It would be your father's dream come true!"
Matt rolled his eyes. He barely even saw his father, and didn't care much for his dreams.
"I hate it, mom," he said earnestly. "It's so boring. Just hitting a stupid ball and running around - what's the point?"
Reaching for a breadstick, he dipped it in a bowl of suspicious-looking green paste and took a bite. He regretted it immediately.
"I'd rather read a book," he continued with his mouth full, chewing disgustedly, "or hang out with Michael - boy, he always has a bunch of fun things to do - or visit Venezuela with Julio… I really don't want to go back tomorrow."
Valerie looked concerned initially, but then smiled and looked distant again. "It was just your first day, Matt. Once you start playing more, maybe with kids who're better than the current group you're with, you'll find it to be more of a challenge. And didn't you hear what Coach Wilson? You're gifted!"
Then she forced Matt to drink his smoothie and finish his god-awful kale salad, while eating nothing herself.