Chapter 10
I got a college scholarship.
Full ride.
Baseball and academics.
When the letter arrived, Mom screamed so loudly the neighbor knocked to check on us.
I read it five times.
Then called Coach.
He answered with, “Finally.”
“You knew?”
“I hoped.”
“You’re very annoying.”
“And correct.”
The signing ceremony was held in the school gym.
Banners.
Teammates.
Reporters.
Mom in the front row.
Uncle Ray beside her.
Coach behind the table.
I looked at the crowd and remembered the trash can.
The silence.
The garbage sliding down my jersey.
Then I looked at the game ball from the championship sitting beside the scholarship papers.
Perfect means perfect.
I signed.
Everyone clapped.
Afterward, Mom hugged me.
“I’m proud of you.”
This time, I did not search her face for fear.
Only love was there.
“I know,” I said.
Her eyes filled.
“You believe me?”
“Yeah.”
That one word healed something in both of us.
Carl sent a letter from jail.
I never opened it.
Mom asked if I wanted to burn it.
I said no.
Then yes.
We burned it in Uncle Ray’s barbecue.
Uncle Ray said it improved the flavor of justice.
May you like
Mom told him that was disgusting.
I laughed until my stomach hurt.
