Read Hometown Heroes Page 20

the face mask, but he knows the baseball is coming straight at him. He sees it at the very last split second and dodges out of the way, missing the ball completely. The ball flies past him and slams into the backstop.

  The umpire, standing off to the side, leaning against the backstop, jumps when the ball hits and rattles the chain link. He looks over at the Bandits' catcher. “You better catch them balls, son. I don't want to be dodging them all afternoon.”

  Shinji stands up and trots over to retrieve the baseball. “I'll try, Ump.”

  The umpire watches Aja throw a few more. Shinji misses most of them, but finally snags one even as he tries to dodge out of the way. The umpire finally steps toward the plate and pulls on his face mask. “Let’s play ball!”

  Smith steps up to the plate as the Badgers’ first hitter. He looks down at Shinji. “Whoa, where's the Mescan? I was lookin' forward to climbing all over his ass again. I guess he chickened out. Y'all done replaced him with a chink.”

  “I'm Japanese,” Shinji says. “You don’t even know how to insult people the right way, do you, Redneck?”

  Smith laughs. “Okay, Mr. Japanese. Some advice, little fella: just stay out of my way when I come for home. You’re so little I might break you somethin’ bad.”

  Smith steps into the batter's box and taps the bat on the plate, facing Aja. “Good to see you again, raghead. Throw me one of them speedballs. I wanna hit one out of here.”

  ---

  Julie and Major Kepler run up to an Air Force police car parked just outside the front entrance to the Dragons’ stadium. They climb in and Major Kepler fires up the engine, drops the car into gear, and squeals away. He hits the lights. “Seat belt,” Kepler says to Julie.

  Julie pulls the strap on as the car banks hard to the right, pulling up onto Monument Street. The squad car races through the city, slowing for red lights before shooting through when Kepler sees the traffic is clear.

  The car turns onto a side street and stops in front of Ramiro’s apartment building. Julie and Major Kepler jump out. Julie runs toward Ramiro’s apartment with Kepler close behind.

  ---

  Inside Ramiro’s apartment, Ramiro’s mother is in one of the bedrooms. She’s quickly packing a suitcase with her daughter’s clothes when she sees the police car through a window. “Madre de Dios! Ramiro!” she shouts.

  She rushes out of the bedroom into the short hallway that leads to the front room.

  Ramiro meets her in the living room. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  She points to the front. “Police! We have to leave out the back. Get your sister. Hurry!”

  Ramiro steps to the edge of the front door and pulls the curtain back an inch or so. He peeks out. “Mom, no. It’s Ms. Kuznieski. She’s a friend.” He opens the door.

  Julie stops outside. “Ramiro, thank God we caught you. JJ said you were leaving.”

  “My father said we have to go,” Ramiro says. “I’m sorry.” He starts to shut the door.

  “No. Stop,” Julie says. “You don’t have to leave.” She holds out a large envelope. “Your citizenship has been approved. I’ve got the papers.”

  Ramiro slowly pulls the door back open. He stares at the envelope. “Honest?”

  “Your whole family,” Julie tells him. “You’re going to be Americans.”

  Ramiro puts his hand to his mouth.

  Ramiro’s mother, holding her young daughter tight to her side, slowly approaches. “We’re going to be Americans?”

  Julie nods.

  Ramiro opens the door and Julie hands him the envelope.

  Julie steps inside and hugs Ramiro, then his mother.

  Kepler holds the door and reaches out to shake Ramiro’s hand. “Congratulations, Ramiro. But right now your team needs you.”

  Ramiro turns quickly and disappears into the hallway, then comes rushing back out, pulling on his jersey. “Let’s go,” he says. Ramiro pauses and looks over at his mom.

  Julie pushes Ramiro out the door. “Go! I’ll bring your family.”

  Ramiro hugs his mom and sister. “Bring Dad....,” Ramiro tells his mother. “We’re going to be Americans!”

  ---

  Dayton Dragons Baseball Field

  The scoreboard shows the Bandits losing three to one.

  The Bandits are in the field, with one runner on first. Aja is on the mound, preparing to pitch. He winds up and fires a smoking fast strike.

  The Badgers’ batter swings, but misses.

  Shinji doesn’t move his glove and the ball slams into his mitt. “Ow!” Shinji jumps up and throws off his mitt. He vigorously rubs his catching hand. He finally pulls the mitt back on and throws the ball back to Aja. “I don’t know how Ramiro frickin’ does this.”

  Just then, Ramiro and the Major rush out of the tunnel. Bob sees them. He rushes out of the dugout and shouts at the umpire, “Time!”

  The umpire raises his hands. “Time out!”

  Shinji sees Ramiro. “Thank God.” He jogs over to the dugout. “Glad you’re here, Ramiro,” Shinji says. “My hand is frickin’ killing me.”

  Bob slaps Ramiro on the back. “Just in time, Ramiro.”

  Shinji starts quickly peeling off the catcher’s equipment, handing the gear to Ramiro.

  Ramiro sits on the bench and just as quickly begins putting the gear on. “Hey Coach, we got our papers. We’re going to be Americans.”

  Bob’s smile can barely match Ramiro’s. “Yeah, I heard. That’s great. But I need a catcher.”

  Ramiro straps on his catcher’s gear as quickly as he can.

  “Hey, Ramiro,” Kepler says. “I have a jersey for you.”

  Kepler holds up Ramiro’s new jersey, turns it around to show him the “U.S.A.” on the back.

  Ramiro smiles, but then shakes his head. “Thanks, Major, but not yet. I haven’t been sworn in.”

  Back out on the field, Smith is walking out toward the umpire, followed by three of his players, including the one who was listening in on the Bandits during their warm-up.

  “Come on, Ump,” Smith says. “What’s the hold up?”

  Bob, Ramiro, and Shinji come out of their dugout. Shinji heads for right field, waving for Mayday to come in.

  Ramiro heads for home plate.

  Smith holds his hands up, then points at Ramiro. “Whoa! Hold on, Ump. He can’t play.”

  “Just why not?” the umpire asks.

  “He’s not an American,” Smith says. “We heard them say he’s being deported. Illegals can’t play. That’s league rules.”

  Julie steps out of the tunnel and notices the activity at home plate. She can hear Smith ranting, sees him pointing at Ramiro.

  “That true?” the umpire asks Bob. “This young man an illegal alien?”

  “No, he’s not, Ump. He just got approval for naturalization,” Bob says.

  “Approval don’t make him no American,” Smith says. “I know that much. He can’t play.”

  Julie joins the huddle near home plate. “He just needs to be sworn in. We can’t get that done until Monday.”

  “Julie?” asks the ump from behind his mask. ”You have something to do with this?”

  Julie cocks her eye at the umpire.

  “Why don’t we swear him in right now?” the umpire asks.

  “Can’t. You need a judge to do that!” Smith says.

  The umpire pulls off his face mask, smiling.

  “Judge Watson? I didn’t realize...”

  “Judge. Umpire. Same thing,” the umpire—Judge Watson—says. “I just love baseball.” He addresses Ramiro. “You ready to be an American, Catch?”

  Ramiro nods vigorously. “Absolutely, sir.”

  Judge Watson turns to Julie. “You have the papers?”

  Julie nods. “For the whole family.” She opens the envelope and shares the papers with Judge Watson.

  Judge Watson reviews the paperwork carefully. “Is the rest of the family here?”

  “In the stands,” Julie says. “I can get them.”
<
br />   “Please,” Judge Watson says, and then turns to Ramiro. “I bet they’ll want to be sworn in together.”

  “Yes, sir. That would be perfect.” Ramiro nods again.

  Julie heads for the tunnel at a trot.

  “I don’t like this,” Smith says. “We’re supposed to be playing baseball.”

  “Suck it up, Coach,” Watson says. “I’m going to do my day job for a few minutes.”

  Smith throws his hands in the air and spins around, heading back to the Badgers’ dugout.

  One of the Dragons’ staff members stands nearby, holding a microphone and wearing the Dragons’ team colors. Judge Watson waves at him and he comes over.

  “That thing on?” Judge Watson asks.

  The man flips a switch on the microphone, and then hands it to Judge Watson.

  Judge Watson turns to address the crowd, speaks into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to take a little break and swear in a new American family. Mr. Ramiro, the Bandits’ catcher, and his family have just been approved for citizenship.”

  The crowd roars their approval.

  Several members of the Dragons' staff bring out a pair of microphone stands and set them up near home plate, just as a photographer starts snapping photos.

  Julie steps out of the tunnel with Ramiro’s mother, father, and little sister in tow. She guides them toward home plate.

  “All we need is a flag,” Judge Watson says, his back to the outfield.

  All at once, the video board near center field changes its picture, displaying a huge, electronic American flag.

  Ramiro taps the judge on the shoulder and points at the display. “I’d say we have a flag.”

  Julie situates Ramiro and his family in front of home plate, facing Judge Watson and the crowd.

  “Raise your right hands...” Judge Watson says.

  Ramiro and his family stand close to each other, raising their hands.

  “And repeat after me.” Judge Watson begins the oath. “I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce…”

  The judge pauses while the Sanchezes repeat his words.

  Across the stadium, people begin standing up, one by one.

  Judge Watson continues, “and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state or sovereignty…”

  Again, the Sanchezes repeat after the judge.

  The Bandits have all gathered around Ramiro and his family. The Badgers have even begun to come out of their dugout.

  “... of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen…”

  The Badgers are all out of their dugout now, standing along the first base line.

  “... that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America…”

  In the stands, a small boy eating a hotdog puts his hand over his heart.

  “... against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same…”

  Almost as if planned for this event, an Air Force Fighter, an F-16 Fighting Falcon from the nearby base, flies low over the stadium, jet engines briefly drowning out the entire ceremony.

  “... that I will perform noncombatant service in the armed forces of the United States when required by the law ...”

  In the stands, an older Hispanic man has his hat over his heart, a tear forming in his eye.

  “... that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law ...”

  By this time the entire stadium is silent as the Judge’s and Sanchezes' words echo across the field. Americans from across the spectrum of economic, social, racial, religious, and political spectra have put aside all thoughts except for the pride in their own heritage. They are all as one, focused on welcoming four new Americans to the fold.

  Judge Watson completes the oath, waiting between segments for the Sanchezes to repeat it back to him. “ … that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God."

  “So help me God,” Ramiro and his family reply in unison.

  Across the stadium, the crowd erupts in applause.

  Judge Watson shakes each new American’s hand, and then turns back to the crowd. He speaks into the microphone. “There’s one more step to becoming an American. Please join me as these new citizens recite the Pledge of Allegiance.”

  The Bandits along third base line and the Badgers along first base all place their hats over their hearts. They turn to face the electronic flag waving on the scoreboard.

  The Sanchezes turn and face the flag. Ramiro’s jersey seems out of place, with “Mexico” emblazoned across his back. They begin, “I pledge allegiance...“

  Throughout the ball field everyone joins in.

  Two little girls in matching outfits recite in unison, “... to the flag, of the United States of America...“

  The Dayton Dragons' mascot, Heater, and his sidekick, Gem, have their huge fake paws over their hearts. “… and to the republic, for which it stands... “

  Mr. Sanchez wipes his eye, while Mrs. Sanchez lets the tears flow down both cheeks. “… one nation under God... “

  And the crowd gets louder and louder as they conclude the pledge: “... indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

  Once again, the crowd erupts in applause.

  Simulated fireworks flash and explode on the electronic scoreboard.

  Judge Watson steps back, turns to the crowd, and speaks into the microphone, “Please join me in welcoming Mr. and Mrs. Ramiro Sanchez; Ramiro Junior; and Juanita. Americans!”

  The entire stadium is on their feet, a billowing thunder of applause and shouts welcoming the Sanchezes to their new country.

  The Sanchezes fidget, uncomfortable with the attention, but stand proud as they wave to their fellow Americans.

  The applause dies down, and Judge Watson speaks once again. “Thanks to all of you for helping welcome these new Americans. Now, why don’t we play some baseball?”

  The crowd shouts approval once again as Julie leads the Sanchez family off the field.

  Ramiro grabs his glove and face mask and heads for the plate. He slows, turns and runs back into the dugout. When he comes back out, he’s buttoning up his new jersey – “U.S.A.” in bold letters across his back. He pulls his mask on when he gets to the plate. “Thanks very much, Ump.”

  “My pleasure, Ramiro,” Judge Watson says.

  As the ball game gets back underway, it’s a hard-fought battle. Aja continues to throw fastballs, with a few curves mixed in. His fastballs blaze, going right past most of the Badgers' hitters.

  The Bandits' offense is good, too. Ramiro hits almost every time at bat.

  But the Badgers prove to be a tough opponent. As the scoreboard marches forward into the bottom of the ninth, the Bandits hold a slight lead: Bandits four, Badgers three. The Badgers have one out.

  Aja throws a curve, but it doesn’t fool the Badgers' batter. He makes contact and punches a line drive toward left field. Q runs hard to try and catch it. He makes a diving catch. Out!

  Bob can sense the impending win. He jumps up and down in front of the dugout. “Way to go, Q!” he shouts. He turns his attention to the rest of the team. “One more out... we just need one more out!”

  Smith steps up to the batter’s box. He looks down at Ramiro. “You may be an American, but you’re still a Mescan.”

  Ramiro signals for a fastball. “Yeah. But I’m an American Mexican.”

  Smith turns his attention to the batter. “Throw one of them fastballs, Raghead.”

  Aja stares down Smith. Waiting.

  Ramiro nods in agreement and holds two fingers down. Fastball it is.

  Aja winds up and launches. He puts all his energy and leverage into the pitch and the ball smokes toward Ramiro’s glove.

  The ball screams toward Smith. He swings hard, b
ut his timing is off. He gets nothing.

  Ramiro stands to throw the ball back to Aja. He smiles at Smith before returning to his stance. “And that guy... He’s an American Afghan. And he just threw smoke right past your ass.”

  Smith steps back out of the box, gripping the bat hard. He stares out at Aja. “Bring me another one of them fastballs, raghead.”

  Smith steps back into the box.

  Aja stands on the mound, holding the ball and glaring at Smith. He takes the signal from Ramiro. Another fastball. Aja nods, then moves quickly into his windup and launches.

  Smith waits half a beat longer this time before he swings. He connects with Aja’s pitch and hits a line drive right back at Aja.

  Aja tries to catch the ball, but it comes too quickly and he misses. The ball hits him hard in the right shoulder, right in his shoulder joint. The force of the impact spins Aja around and he falls down, writhing on the ground.

  The Bandits in the infield all rush to their injured teammate.

  Smith takes advantage of the Bandits’ concern for their pitcher. He races for first and arrives standing up because there’s no one there. There’s no one on second, either, and the base coach urges him on. Smith keeps running.

  Bob runs out onto the sidelines, yelling, “Santini, get the ball! Get the ball!”

  Santini grabs the ball lying near the pitcher’s mound. He steps back and puts himself between the runner and third.

  Smith turns the corner at second, but spots Santini. He backs up and steps on the base.

  “Time!” Bob yells.

  The base umpire throws his hands up. “Time out!”

  Bob and Major Kepler rush onto the field.

  When they get to him, Aja is sitting up, holding his shoulder. He’s surrounded by the infield team.

  Bob squats down. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so,” Aja says as they help him to his feet. He tries to raise his right arm. When it reaches shoulder height he grimaces in pain.

  “That’s not good,” Bob says.

  Aja tries to raise his arm again, but there’s still too much pain.

  Bob turns to JJ. “JJ, you better get ready to pitch.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ramiro says as he tosses the ball to Bob. “You’re up, Coach.”

  Bob grabs the ball. He looks around at the other Bandits. He shakes his head. “I’m not ready.”

  “Yeah, you are,” Ramiro says. “I know you are.”

  “Ramiro,” Bob says, “I might be able to throw, but I can’t field.”

  “You won’t need to,” Ramiro tells him. “Trust me.” Ramiro waves for the others to take their positions as he turns and heads back to home plate.

  Kepler helps Aja off the field, leaving Bob standing alone on the pitcher’s mound.

  JJ shouts encouragement when he gets back to first. “You got it, Coach. Ramiro told us. Let’s win this one.”

  Ramiro turns to Judge Watson. “Ump, need a couple of practice throws.”

  “Go ahead,” Watson says. He waves the new batter back out of the box.

  “Hold on!” Smith yells from second. “He can’t play. He only has one arm.”

  Judge Watson steps toward the mound, waving for Smith to join him.

  Smith walks over from second.

  Smith, Bob, and Judge Watson meet at the mound. “No rules against him pitching,” Judge Watson says. “He wants to risk it, it’s his call.”

  “It just ain’t right,” Smith says. “This is baseball.”

  Bob looks Smith in the eye. “You ever heard of Jim Abbott?”

  Smith stares back blankly.

  “Thought so,” Bob says. “Abbott played in the Majors for ten years in the nineties. Only had one hand. He was a pitcher. How about Hugh Daily? He pitched back in the early days of