Cleats in Clay Read Free

large square cube in each glass. “You done said that, and ya look too young to be president, so I’m failin’ to see why it’s so important.”
Bobby studied him again. “Baseball player. World Series. You really don’t know?”
“I don’t cotton much for sports. Must not be as good at it as ya think ya are.”
“Playing isn’t exactly what I’m famous for.” Bobby struggled. He’d never had to explain it to anybody before; most people just knew. The news had made such a big splash. “Game two of the series? I ditched my team?”
Odis appraised him carefully. “Don’t seem like the flighty flake type. Must be more to the story than that.”
Bobby stewed. “There is….” It would be easy enough to just get up and leave, make some excuse and head out the door. But Odis was waiting. Those kind blue eyes of his seemed to deserve an answer.
Odis watched him.
“I… Nathan had to stay late, didn’t fly in until the first afternoon. In the cab on the way to the hotel, he went into convulsions and the cabbie took him to the hospital. I played part of the first series game, pissed off that Nate hadn’t shown. It wasn’t ’til that night, back at the hotel, I found out he was in a coma.”
“So he was your lover?”
“Husband,” Bobby corrected strongly. “We had a ceremony and everything in Boston four years ago. Had to keep it quiet, though. Management was too worried about a scandal.”
As Odis got up and left the room, Bobby watched, shocked by the reaction. How dare he just get up and—
Odis returned and handed something to him. Without thinking, Bobby took the items. He looked down at the pipe and lighter. It was one of those old-fashioned corncob pipes like he’d seen in some hillbilly movie once. And it didn’t smell at all like tobacco. Bobby realized it was the same faint lingering smell he had noticed in the studio. Marijuana.
“Go ahead,” Odis urged as he sat in the chair next to Bobby. “You’re a man who needs a toke if I’ve ever seen one.”
Bobby looked down at the pipe. He’d had weed before, of course, back in college. He’d always been too worried about his career to have any kind of drugs since going professional. It was one of the things Nate used to tease him about sometimes. A glass of bubbly at New Year’s was about all he did. Athletics, his body, were too important and kept him wary of such temptations. He’d seen too many other players crash their careers with booze and drugs.
“Light up, dude,” Odis urged, echoing the voice of Nathan in his head. That voice of Nathan was also nagging him to loosen up.
Bobby brought the pipe to his mouth and struck the lighter. He inhaled a little and held the breath, struggling not to cough as he fought the spicy burning tingle in his throat. He coughed anyway.
Odis took the pipe from him as he exhaled slowly. Odis took his own hit.
Bobby was a bit surprised at himself for taking the smoke. He watched Odis put the pipe and lighter on the table.
“Now then, baseball.”
“Baseball,” Bobby echoed.
“You played a long time?”
Bobby chuckled. “Since I was old enough to hold up a bat, seems like.”
“Nice for a man to have a passion.” Odis nodded.
Bobby looked at the corncob pipe. Go ahead, one more , the voice of Nathan urged.
Odis followed his gaze, then picked up the pipe and lighter and put them in Bobby’s hands.
Bobby inhaled deeply this time, letting the intoxicating smoke dance in his nose and throat as he held the breath in.
“You got a touch of twang, but it’s not Texas. Where ya from?”
“North Carolina, but Dad’s from Ohio. Spent a lot of time there growin’ up.” Bobby felt something stirring in his mind, like the fingers of that tight stranglehold of control he always felt were loosening slightly.
Odis watched him put the pipe back on the table. “They fired you? When you went to the hospital?”
Bobby shook his head. “Not then. They told me to show for the second game, but I refused. I wasn’t