We hurry home because the game
is at Candlestick Park tonight,
Giants against Cubs.
We order pizza and turn up the TV.
I get the notebook,
my father gets his mitt
and hands me mine.
I didn’t play in Little League this year.
Next year, right? my father says.
Man, he says, the Giants
might really do it this year.
Check this out, if they make the Series,
my boss is taking us all to a game.
He smiles and shoves pizza into his mouth.
Did you feel the earthquake? He looks at me.
I’m working on a roof over in Pacifica, he says.
I felt the building sway a little.
When he says this, my stomach hurts.
I look down at the notebook,
find a green button
stuffed into the pocket.
I think of my mom’s scratchy green sweater
and suddenly I feel like
I need to get her the button as fast I can,
but I just hold it up,
try to see through the tiny holes.
I feel his big hand on my shoulder.
It was fine, just a little shake.
Nothing to worry about.
I breathe a little, and we watch the game.