Field of blue, p.25
Field of Blue, page 25
“I’ll take care of it.”
They let a few moments of comfortable silence pass.
“So how does it feel to be a National League Champion?” asked Julio.
Jake snorted. “I guess I hadn’t really let that sink in. I’ve been a little busy.”
Julio nodded and smiled. “And we get to do our jobs helping people while playing baseball.”
“It was wonderful,” answered Jake. “At least you helped the Cubs win last year’s World Series. That had to feel great!”
“I loved it! It was such a thrill to compete, and an honor to represent the Cubs. To participate in an activity that brings people together for fun, so they can forget their turmoil for a time, is desperately needed.
“I was able to attain the best physical shape of my life, and play with some of the finest athletes on earth. It felt good to see baseballs I hit go over the wall, to have a few home runs and make the Chicago fans ecstatic. We may not have returned to the World Series this year, but we can hold our heads high.”
“I could not have said it better, Julio. Congratulations!”
“And this season allowed me to raise money and funding that will help cure cancer faster and help even more kids.”
Julio was happy and the two of them sat with the feeling and watched the horizon quietly for a long time.
“What will you do now, Jake?”
Jake looked over at Julio. “I thought I would buy a condo close to wherever Bill settles, then buy a motor home.”
Julio laughed. “A motorhome? Why a motorhome?”
“I want to travel. I would like to see most of our National Parks, and Canada, and do some fishing. I would like to see the Grand Canyon, Glacier, and Yellowstone in particular.
“After that I can help Kai and Bill and maybe find a woman to love, raise horses and start a horse camp.”
“When Bill is better, he is going to tease you. You’re the guy wearing designer clothes. Boots and jeans will be a big switch.”
Jake laughed. “He said I looked like a BMW salesman.”
They shared some more sun.
“And what about you, Julio? What’s next?”
“It’s time for me to take a break and go home. I want to celebrate Christmas and then decide where I’m needed next.”
The two men stood and embraced warmly before Julio turned to walk away, the eyes of both men moist.
“Until we meet again old friend,” said Julio.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOUR
Julio’s pre-flight checklist was complete, so he started the engines of the King Air, one after the other, letting them warm up as he checked his navigation settings and fuel. His flight plan to the Dominican Republic was filed. His calling this time around was complete; Jake would be there to watch over Bill and Natalie, and the Chavez Children’s Cancer Foundation was firmly established.
The engines had reached normal operating temperature, so Julio contacted the tower for instructions on which taxiway to use, and which marker to hold at. A few minutes later he was placed in line behind a United Airlines 747.
After the big Boeing departed, the controller had him hold for three minutes to let the swirling air behind the big aircraft stabilize. While waiting Julio scanned his gauges and checked the brakes. The oil pressure and engine temperatures were within limits.
When cleared for takeoff Julio advanced the throttles and easily became airborne. He had one thousand pounds of fuel and no cargo, so the plane lifted easily. Within minutes he was at his assigned flight level, speed, and heading.
When he was released from the tower’s control and in international airspace, Julio advanced the throttles to just under redline RPM’s. The Pratt and Whitney turboprop engines were humming, and he was cruising at over three hundred and ten knots. The sun was brilliant, and the sky was clear.
“King Air N250HO. Please come in. This is Miami Tower.”
“Miami Tower, this is 250HO, I read you. Go ahead.”
“250HO, I am giving you a weather advisory. There is a rapidly building storm system across your flight path about one hundred miles in front of you. Thunder heads are forming to forty-two thousand feet above ground level. We advise you divert to your alternate airport or return to Miami International.”
“Miami Tower, this is 250HO. Roger that, will divert. Thanks for the advisory. 250HO out.”
Julio turned off his transponder and his radio and turned to his passenger, Darrell Smith.
The boy was healthy, with a full head of hair and wearing his Dodgers uniform.
“Coach Smith, are you ready for the rest of your journey?”
“I am, but I miss my parents.”
“I know you do, and they will miss you.”
“The pain and fatigue are gone.”
Julio nodded. “Would you like to help fly this thing?”
“You bet!” said Darrell.
“Just take this wheel and pull back. I’ll help you so don’t worry.”
With a big smile Darrell Smith pulled the yoke back, the plane responding as they soared higher into the bright blue sky.
“Welcome to ESPN news. The lead story tonight is that a private airplane, registered to Julio Chavez, is missing, and presumed to have gone down in route to the Dominican Republic. Mr. Chavez took off this afternoon at one o’clock, received and responded to a weather advisory and then shortly thereafter disappeared from the radar scopes. A rapidly developing thunderstorm was in the flight path with violent winds and rain. The clouds were reported to be at forty-two thousand feet, well above the maximum operating altitude for the aircraft. There is also an early unconfirmed report that he may not have had enough fuel on board the aircraft.
“There is a signal from an Emergency Location Transmitter in the same area. A search and rescue operation is being organized, and should be on site within eight hours. We will keep you updated on this developing story.”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIVE
“Bill?”
Bill opened his eyes, surprise registering on his face when he saw his attorney, Fred Ramsey, standing beside his bed, along with Megan, Kai and Jake.
“Fred, what are you doing in Los Angeles? This is a long way from your Boise office.”
A look of fear shot across his face. “Wait! Is Natalie okay?”
“Natalie is fine, Bill. This is not about Natalie,” replied Fred.
“Then I don’t understand.”
“Please give me a minute and we will get there. How are you?”
Bill’s eyes narrowed.
“Well, Fred, right now not so good.”
Fred nodded. “Sorry, I get it.”
Fred drew a breath and continued. “Very well. Bill, I assume you know by now that Julio Chavez died in a plane crash?”
“I do know. I could not believe it. Jake told me and it has been on CNN and ESPN nonstop. The news reported that the wreckage was located this morning, and his body was recovered.”
“That’s right. The short story, Bill, is that I was contacted by a large Chicago law firm around noon, and asked to be co-counsel for the estate of Julio Chavez.”
No one missed the confusion on the faces of Bill and Megan. Fred noticed that Kai and Jake did not seem to be surprised. But then Kai Fisher was named in the instructions.
“No offense intended but did you even know the guy?” asked Bill. “Why would he name you or…?” Bill thought about what he wanted to say. “I guess I just don’t understand why he would deal with someone in Boise, someone he didn’t know.”
“No offense taken, Bill. Apparently, Mr. Chavez had a set of instructions that activated immediately upon any news of his death. That set of instructions directed his trust to immediately involve me to meet with you face to face, wherever you might be.”
“Okay?”
“First and foremost, you have been named a co-director, along with Kai Fisher, for the Chavez Children’s Cancer Foundation. The foundation is the recipient of his life insurance proceeds. Jake has been named as an honorary director.
“It was explained to me that your position, Bill, is voluntary but Mr. Chavez was hopeful that you would accept it and treat it as an honor. It comes with a generous salary.
“What?” Bill’s mind was reeling. “Why me? He barely knows me and what would I know about directing a foundation?”
“That was one of the questions they anticipated,” replied Fred. He opened his folder and withdrew a sheet of paper.
“Mr. Chavez’s left a brief statement for you in that regard. I quote “Kai and you and Jake will do just fine.” unquote.
“Mr. Chavez also asked me to read you the following statement: As part of the Foundations charter, an area near McCall, Idaho, commonly known as Indian Meadow, has been leased from the National Forest Service, for a period of ninety-nine years. The lease allows for the operation of the new “Sullivan Camp” for orphans and children with cancer or survivors of the disease.”
Bill was dumbfounded. Jake and Kai were smiling.
Fred handed Bill a sealed envelope with a note on it. “For Bill, from your friend Julio.”
Bill opened the envelope to find a short note.
Bill,
Kai and Jake already know what needs to be done. You are a smart man. Kai and Jake can help you. Think of Eric Hall and Katie Lindskog and your soon to arrive son. Remember Darrell Smith. Remember me and trust in the council of your friends and loved ones. I am asking you to become a teacher of kids, and have given you the means, and the team to be successful. The rest is up to you.
With you always, J.C.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SIX
The stands of Dodger stadium were full on this crisp November evening, the crowd uncharacteristically quiet. Bill wearing a light blue dress shirt stretched over his broad chest, and a royal blue tie, was seated in his wheelchair. He had rolled out to the mound when the camera feeds were off. He was surrounded by those he loved; his legs covered by a blue team blanket. The Dodgers’ owner, coaches, staff, and players were lined up in a semi-circle behind Bill and his family.
The Dodgers had won the World Series, but the journey had left one of their own paralyzed. Their solemn expressions mirrored the respect, and sorrow felt for Bill, and the quiet celebration for Natalie’s miracle.
Natalie, standing beside her dad, was sporting a soft white cervical collar. Her eyes were dripping, her cheeks wet, when she suddenly raised a hand and waved at the crowd. Everyone roared their approval.
Megan leaned down and gave her fiancé a kiss, leaving her right hand resting gently on Bill’s back when she straightened up. Kai was in the stands taking care of their infant, Thomas William Sullivan.
On the big Dodger Vision screen a picture of Julio Chavez appeared, with the dates of his birth and death displayed at the bottom of the screen.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” began MLB Commissioner Hank Scranton. “We first want to take a moment and honor Mr. Julio Chavez. He was a strong competitor and a rising star in Major League Baseball. His last professional appearance was right here in this stadium. He was a supporter of charities and founded the Chavez Children’s Cancer Foundation to support children stricken with that disease. His death is a loss for us all.
May we have a few moments of silence please?”
“Thank You.”
“Bill, your pitching, after your comeback from your car accident, helped your team make it to the World Series. Therefore, on behalf of Major League Baseball we wish to present you the Honorary World Series Most Valuable Player Award! Congratulations!” he said, handing Bill the gleaming trophy. He started shaking Bill’s right hand, while smiling for the cameras.
“Bill Sullivan!” exclaimed Hank Scranton.
The crowd exploded with applause and started chanting. “Sulli-van…Sulli-van…Sulli-van!”
When the noise abated, the Commissioner continued. “Mr. Ronchetti, congratulations to you as the owner of the Dodgers, to all the management and coaching staff, the fans and of course the team, Major League Baseball’s World Series Champions, the Los Angeles Dodgers!”
The fans shook the stadium with an enormous response.
Bill felt the sun and its warmth on his neck and upper back. He removed his cap, waved it toward the crowd, receiving an enormous standing ovation in return. Replacing his cap Bill reached for Natalie and Megan’s hands, found them, and raised them in victory, as one solitary tear dropped from his face onto his shirt, creating one dark spot on the field of blue.
Jake felt his friends tear darken the breast of his shirt, so he leaned in so Bill could hear him.
“Bill, as hard as this is right now, try and enjoy these moments.”
Bill tensed, wanting to come back with a caustic reply. He even opened his mouth…but Jake was right; and Jake always told him what he thought. Sometimes bluntly, but always right. Bill forced the tears back behind his eyes, so tight they started a pounding in his brain, right behind his eyebrows.
His team followed Coach Jackson and the owner, Mr. Ronchetti, as they began to surround Bill and his family in offering congratulations.
Jake could feel Megan’s love for her child, her fear, wonder, and concern about her career, and how she was going to be able to take care of Bill. He knew she was worried about how to make it work as a wife, mother, step-mother and medical student. Wondering how she could make a life, what kind of life even, if Bill was a paraplegic.
Jake could feel Natalie’s love for her father, along with her anguish and feelings of guilt, thinking she somehow caused Bill’s paralysis because of her fall. She was going to need a lot of support.
Jake leaned in close again. “Kai was there when you needed her, when you were a boy; angry, scared and confused.
“Now I am here, when you are a man; scared and angry.”
Bill twisted to study Jake’s face, his own showing slight confusion.
“Bill, on the way back from McCall, right before Katie’s accident, I told you that you are my full-time job. You…and Megan…and Natalie…and now Thomas.
“You did not get all you needed as a child. Many don’t. Now it is your turn. Kai and I will help you.
Jake moved directly behind Bill and laid one hand on Bills right shoulder then let the power of pure love and warmth flow out of his hand as he leaned down to whisper in Bill’s ear.
“He, the man you knew as Julio, sent me to you, for the kids we helped and for your family,” said Jake quietly.
Jake pulled a small white paper ice cream bag from inside his own shirt.
“Bill, before Darrell passed, he requested that your childhood glove be returned to you. Darrell said you will need it to play catch with many children, including your own son.”
Jake moved beside Bill and laid one hand on Bill’s left leg and the other on top of Megan’s right hand.
Megan turned her head, frozen, staring at Jake.
Bill, mouth agape, turned to look at his friend, and saw a momentary image that looked like Julio Chavez, just behind Jake.
Then he looked down.
He could feel Jake’s hand.
My leg is twitching.
THE END
Dan Stout, Field of Blue
