It was Sunday afternoon and Natalie and Jake had stepped out to get dinner. Bill had already been prodded and poked by the nurses. His bedding had been changed, the room was warm, and Bill was drifting in and out of sleep, halfway through his pain dosage. He was on his back, which itched, and he felt sluggish, old, and slow. He had been on the mound just a few days before. I’m already slipping, he thought before dozing off.
Bill, aware of a still presence, felt eyes on him as he awoke.
Julio Chavez was standing in the doorway watching Bill.
“What are you doing here, Chavez?” he asked, without rancor.
“May I come in?”
“Oh, why not,” replied Bill with a sigh.
“I was over at the Mountain States Tumor Institute visiting kids, knew you were here, so I decided to pop in.”
Then Bill remembered the interview on TV Friday night. “That’s right, you were doing the fundraiser for the kids with cancer. How did it go?”
“It went well. My agent and I were able to line up several corporate sponsors and a couple celebrities. We raised close to two million dollars for my charity, and ninety percent of all donations go to pediatric cancer research.
“That’s great, Chavez. The kids need it.”
“They do. So, I’ll be here a couple more days before I have to get back to the job.”
Bitterness creased Bill’s face. Chavez is going to the World Series and I’m in rehab.
Julio looked at Bills covered lower body and asked. “What do the docs say?”
Bill looked at him, first thinking it’s none of his business, but then decided so what. ESPN was already speculating that his career was over.
“Doc Jensen thinks I’m done playing pro-ball. Dr. Walker says I will walk with a limp.”
“Are you going to quit?”
Bill bristled. “I didn’t quit, Chavez. I was taken out by a drunk driver.”
Then he saw Chavez had a friendly glimmer in his eye.
He’s lighting me up.
Bill blew out a breath in frustration. “I don’t know if the team will let me try out again.”
“And what do you think, Bill?”
Bill’s eyes showed fire. “I think doctors can’t see into a man’s soul, or his heart.”
“You’re right, they can’t. I’m sure that if you can pitch anything like you used to, they’ll find a way to cope with any other limitations.”
Bill studied Chavez but didn’t think he was pulling his leg.
“You meant to hit me with that ball in the fifth inning.”
Julio burst out laughing and after a few seconds wiped his eyes.
“Oh man, that’s hilarious! Are you really busting my chops?”
Bills smile was rueful, but he remained silent.
“I think we were on the same field that day, Bill, and I remember that you tried to hit me in the head, although it was after I dissed you.”
Bill waited, not admitting anything until Chavez laughed again.
“You’re banged up, with a broken leg, a cracked hip and a damaged back and you will not concede anything, will you, Bill Sullivan?”
Bill smiled, ignored his question, and asked one of his own. “What I can’t figure out though is why try and hit me, when you could have driven that ball out of the park instead of into my ribs.”
“I don’t know about a home run, Bill. The ball came in high, like I believe you intended, and then drifted toward the center of the plate. It didn’t feel right, but it did feel like I could get your attention.”
Bill, puzzled, didn’t know what to say, but could feel something was missing.
“So, Chavez, this is a nice visit and all, but what do you really want?”
Chavez approached Bill’s bed and put his hand on his shoulder.
“I hope someday we can be friends because we have unfinished business. On the field we are competitors and I want to know how I stack up. You are one of the greatest pitchers in the world. You’ll make a comeback and I believe we will face each other again.”
Bill didn’t know what to say.
Megan entered Bill’s room, stopping abruptly when she saw Julio Chavez standing beside her patient’s bed. She was not a sports fan, but she did see plenty of it on her patient’s televisions. What had happened in last week playoffs between these two was already legend. Julio had hosted the MSTI fundraiser, and she had enjoyed meeting him.
“Mr. Chavez, welcome, I didn’t know the two of you were friends.”
“We go way back, almost three days now,” replied Julio with a chuckle.
Bill snorted.
Megan gave Julio a quizzical glance, shook her head and smiled as a thought blossomed in her mind.
“Bill, I know you support the Make A Wish Foundation. I am making a wish… right now!” said Megan.
Then she looked at Julio.
“And you are going to help!”