66
PARTISAN REVIEW
why wait until he came back? She wouldn't come in so they talked on
the front stoop. "Come on," Kelly said, "this has got to be Verna's
idea." "You don't know one thing, Kelly. Not one thing," she said . "I
know about us. Jesus. We've got a lot of years together, you know?"
"And five or so of them with Ricky and a couple when you were God
knows where, and we don't need any more ." "You think I'm not sorry
about Ricky too? You think that?" "You think maybe it was a little
different being here?" "I said 1 was sorry . Jesus. 1 give up baseball
and 1 got two jobs now and plans for the house and all, and all we've
got to do is pick up the pieces." "No way." "Come on, now. You're
what I've got and vice versa. Jesus. 1 didn't have to come back. Give
me a little credit anyway." "Right now 1 wouldn't give you a cold. "
"But if you go what else have 1 got?" "You've got you, 1 guess. What–
ever that's worth ." While she walked down to the bus stop at the cor–
ner he just stood there feeling as if he ought to break something.
That night, and for the first time, Kelly dreamed about Ricky.
Kelly himself was playing ball again, in a vast well-painted park un–
like any he'd ever seen.
It
was all so vivid and perfect : the ball white
and unmarked, the dirt of the infield like velvet, the grass a deep rich
green even in the full high sun . He was at his best, the ball flying
from his bat in a pure line toward the wall, and at the same moment
he ran, effortlessly, to catch it : he was everyone on the field, a team
of lithe, precise , graceful men , bright with the sweat of easy accom–
plishment. He looked up and Ricky was watching; older, no longer a
child, but still Ricky , with the same soft hair, watching intently but
without expression . Again the ball flew from Kelly's bat and again
he himself was the one catching it, on the dead run; and again and
again and again, with Ricky still the only onlooker, still without ex–
pression, still unamazed by the grace of what was before him. On and
on the game went, never changing; nor did the sun move or the air
turn to the heavier warmth oflate afternoon, nor did Kelly tire. On
and on he played, each time without flaw or hesitation. Then he no–
ticed that Ricky had stood up and turned away and was leaving, with–
out another look. Kelly called out to him but there was no answer.
The boy, tall and angular, walked to the exit and then down into
the dark tunnel and was gone, and still Kelly played on and on and
on, his body now heavy and inadequate, his wind short, the uniform
heavy on his shoulders, his arms, when he looked down, wholly
changed : mottled, veiny, old, thin but too heavy to raise to wave or
beckon.
