You could be a kid for as long as you want when you play baseball.
-Cal Ripken, Jr.

Willie sat on the higher grounds of the herding fields. The German Shepherd wagged his tail looking over line of trees that zig zagged off to the country highway 40 that was in the distance. His convoluted gray eyes lazily taking in the afternoon lights. Willie smelled the sweet mixture of grass and wildflowers that grew wild between the long line of trees, a football field’s length from the hill. His thick brown coat was warm from the summer heat. The long pink tongue was rung out hieving out breaths. His strong hind legs stood up and were beginning to tighten from his long run he ran that morning. Willie’s sharp ears stood up; their hair’s scouring across the air.
He walked off slowly to the left across the hill, still looking down at the fields.Willie began to pace along the top of the wide rise of land each time wandering further across the stretch of hill. He felt the still wet tops of weeds and craving to run.
Willie took off in a slow but swift sprint careening down the middle of hill. The edges of his mouth began to flutter along the wind. Once he reached the bottom he pounced off in full sprint, pushing his thighs faster and faster. He saw the young oaks growing fast and it’s arms floating in the breeze.Willie focused on  the shade, still going faster, trying to find something in his heart to make him go faster towards the shade. The soil was moist with the morning’s dew and sunk into his coarse paws. His claws digging up rooted weeds and  chains of grass. Willie nipped his mouth at the rushing air trying to get a good bite of it.
When he had escaped the low orange of the afternoon sun, he jogged at a pace through the threshold of shade looking up through the branches. The grass grew colder for the dew was freshest there and he felt a rush through his nerves and his brain stimulated in his surroundings. His thick fur was now decently brushed with wet dirt. Willie approached the first oak of the long thin stretch of canvass. It’s tall and strong arms reached opposite of him creating a great arch over whatever laid beyond. But some shade was provided by the rogue branches that were unkempt and low enough to cut the head off cornstalks.
The oak’s leaves crushed under Willie’s feet as he began to stroll around in a odd circle the shade of the first oak. His head stood up looking at the creeping light that lingered across the tree’s leaves. Willie moved slowly now, going further into the oak’s shade. He felt the cool air the shade had to offer slide across his back. Willie’s heart began to settle and his tongue slung across the left side of his jaw, breath fuming out heavily.
Willie sat down when he reached the first of the oak’s roots that arched up and down like a Water Moccasin. His paws stumbled on the top of the snake’s gruff backs. Willie let his legs slowly fall under himself, his heart still seeming to be in full sprint. He looked back at his long track of field he ran scanning the field of grass looking for movement.
He laid there for a couple of minutes lying his head to the side on a large root. His eyes still scanning but looked forward into the small forest.  The sharp ears of Willie were now low also hung at the sides of his heads. The ground was made of fallen leaves, but tall patches of grass and branches stood up. But a few open spaces where oak’s roots cleansed the ground from idle species.
A snap of a low branch and the rustle of a patch of weeds wakened Willie from his attentive slumber. His legs stood up like the crack of a wip, pushing up a small cloud of dust. For a moment he looked into the tangle of dandelions making sure it was there. Willie jumped forward, flying over the paddies of roots and gave out a loud war cry. He darted past the entanglement of weeds ducking his head under a fence of thin branches. Flashes of brown and dark green are seen in his peripheral vision. The nimble gray flash of light past his face justified his chase. His eyes following the animal, but somehow able to be aware of the trees and brushes. The animal took a swift left going further into the forest where the oak's branches seemed to close in. Willie did not care, he jutted left and bounded through the thicket lowering his head further. The animal hopped left and right seeming to gain more ground faster than Willie. But Willie knew he wouldn’t get too much ground from himself.
The animal took a left turn in between two tightly held oak trunks. Willie saw this coming and turned before the animal’s instinct would kick in and he jumped through the two oaks faster. Willie knew the small animal had made a mistake. The two racers had changed directions into a small clearing. The clearing was matted with oak’s leaves and the sun illuminated the ground. Willie ran after the animal, which tried to make a final stand by swerving around the young oak’s trying to throw him off track. But Willie kept his balance and his face now felt the fur of the animal.
Willie jumped on the animal just as it was running out of the clearing where wild grass began, his front paws crushing it’s back. The small animal still trying to make escaped from Willie’s arms but only kicked up leaves with it’s hind legs. Willie grabbed hold of the animal’s throat with his mouth, not biting down but holding it as a hand would secure it. Strong hind legs kicked at Willie’s throat but he was able to pick up the animal from squirming from his jaw. Willie slung the small gray animal down to the left pushing it down to the ground. He loosened his grip on the animal’s throat. Willie felt the hot blood rush through the animal vessels and saw the fear it’s shaking spine. His teeth sunk into the animal’s neck slowly, Willie tasted the spots of blood and quickly bit down crushing the animal’s throat. From there Willie tore through flesh, shaking his head left and right. It gave out a small shriek of mercy as blood trickled out the corners of it’s mouth. The animal’s body went limp and it’s throat now permanently bent.
Willie’s put pressure off the animal’s spine, but simply laid on the animal’s body. Exhaustion settled in his throat even though the blood ran down it heartily. His fangs still were revealed by his bloody lips. A low growl brewed in his throat, to where it sounded like a gurgle. Willie gnawed at the neck making sure the last life had been squeezed out from the animal’s scream. He smelled around it’s tall  and blood smeared ears and stood up with the animal in his mouth. It’s eyes still frozen in fear, the head holding onto the last few pieces of flesh that still clung from his spine to it’s brain loosely swayed.
Willie helped his head high jogging into the path of tall wild grass. The grass caught drops of blood. Through a few yards of the wild grasses path, a old wired fence also neglected in its maintenance, stood trying to set up a defense between the white gravel and the wild plants that grew. Four feet of wire and rotting wooden stakes ran down miles and miles parallel to the cracked concrete. The oaks of the slim stretch of forest created a perfect canopy of giving the road a tent. On the other side the pattern of wide areas of herding lands continued although less drops and rises of elevation. The light reflection of cars a few miles off crawled along the leveled country.
The East Cotton tail began to slope down the left side of Willie’s mouth. He threw his neck to right letting the rabbit hang further to the right. Willie saw the fence and wagged his tail seeing it, knowing David was likely to come by. He jumped over the last foot of wild grass, his kill cracked with broken bones as he landed. Willie sat down looking up at the fence, his hind legs shuffling underneath him as if he was smothering another rabbit. His legs have found a tremendous amount of momentum and pushed off from the ground. Willie’s hair touching the knots of wire getting stuck in little truffles. His front paws struck the ground with a matted thud, his face rolled to the side his body following, feeling the warm grass. The corpse popped out of his mouth and settled off to his left side. Willie tucked and rolled off the grass and into the side of the road. The sour smell of oak sap and pollen was dissipated by hot assphalt. Willie bounced up from his disfigured position and scooped the Cottontail back in his mouth, the blooming Dandelions seemed to spice the rabbit’s taste in his mouth. Willie sat down resting his front paws on the hot concrete. His head looked left and right, his tongue stretched out feeding in his breaths.
Willie sat there waiting for David, unable to walk any further.

David drove his sun tanned ‘70 Chevy Camaro down the country road. “Sounds of today” 97.9 X played slowly over his rough stereo. Springsteen sang about his yearning in “Dancing in the Dark.” David let his arm stretch out on the dusty leather of the passenger seat, while his left held onto the worn steering wheel. The car paced down the long road, David kept the MPH dial around seventy. The spotted windows were rolled down the wind trying to catch his long brown hair that was held by his red and white baseball cap tipped back on his scalp. A angered cartoon bull arched in a charging position was patched into the front of the worn cap. A orange bucket of baseballs sat in the back seat, with a glove rolling slowly off the top.
He thought about how much his Mom would hate him keeping his left hand resting on the wheel, while he laid back in the driver seat. She would tell him what’s the point of getting your licence when you're gonna crash the damn car. He tried to shake the feeling off, his mother’s voice echoing in his cerebellum. His fist balled tighter into a fist atop the wheel. David knew of the risk he took, he just felt right doing it.
His mind tried to focus more on finding Willie, and the expectations of where he might be waiting.
David watched the flickers of skim across his hood from the overbearing oaks. Spots reflected off the metal on his rear view mirror making him squint a little. The sun was beginning to set into the early afternoon, and the cars on the parallel highway off in the distance began to thin out.
The last intersection for a couple of miles that either lead back into the South West of Mayville or to the highway into the distance. David felt the familiar transition of tire on concrete to gravel, but the surroundings stayed the same. The comfort of home washed over him in his extracted state. He wiped his baseball practice sleeve thoroughly across his hot forehead. A large red M was loosely sewn on the left side of the sweaty shirt. The smell of clay and warm sweat filled the car. His brown boots were covered in a thin layer of clay and his jean cuffs had picked up pelts of more clay.
Practice had been good, if he could only stop hitting the junk balls. David was truly tried and didn’t even want to go looking for a animal that would return sometime the next morning in the barn’s front doors sleeping heavily. His stomach growled along with the engine. The wind hit his face making him feel more hungry. Willie took the Pepsi can from the cup holder next to his feet and took a long sip. David traveled back through his mind.
He had been thinking about what Marcy said to him today. How he could never move on and get over himself. David’s mind had been wrapped around her words throughout the day trying to salvage some sort of answer. Some sort of logical fallacy of Marcy’s argument. What the hell does that mean “I’m too immature to see past myself.” He had forgotten to pick her up the day before. Davide got sidetracked talking to some of his friends in the school parking lot, forgetting all about where Marcy was. She had given him the unforgiving silence that a girl could give a few hours after her swimming practice. In his mind he seemed to have become the true version of what Marcy’s parents thought of him. The irresponsible athlete who is too focused on other pieces of ass and curve balls. David knew he shouldn’t be thinking about Marcy too much but he still zeroed in on their conversation.
“You can’t seem to take me seriously, David”
“Ok, why the hell are getting so pissed off. I’m sorry I forgot to pick you up, I was just talking to Jake and-.”
“That’s not the point all you do is-is worry about yourself and hope your plans for the future don’t get screwed up.”
“I don’t even know what your talking about anymore.”
Why haven’t I talked to her yet David thought. I can’t keep this up and you know it. When you get home you’re going to go straight to the phone and call her.
David hummed along with the hollow organ as Springsteen shouted out the words, tapping his fingers on the dashboard. The Camaro rose along with the small jump in the road where gravel had built up around a oak’s large root. David jumped up a little in his seat seeing the world in front of him catapult up and down back to earth.
He saw the little spec sitting on the side of the road, there’s the little sucker he thought. The brown spec began move frantically bordering the road and the road’s side. David threw his foot down tighter and the Camaro's hood lifted up in excitement. The trees whirled by the windows faster. The brown spec dilated larger and larger giving the details more and more of a dog. It was officially late noon and the sun gazed over the pattern of clouds that went over the horizon right above the highway.
Willie paced excitedly back and forth on the side of the road. David saw something laying next to Willie, something ragged and dead. Willie’s tail poked up at a 90 degree angle and waved it against the wire fence. But in his eagerness he sat still his head focused on the speeding car.
David laid his foot on the brakes slowly pulling up to the side of the road. He switched off the radio and leaned across the seat to look out the window. Willie immediately hopped up against the passenger's door. He let out a barks and slobber shot out onto the car’s interior. David put his elbow up trying to shield himself from projectiles.
“Damnit Will, say it don’t spray it,” snapped David.
Willie whimpered in anxiousness pacing in short steps in front of the door then returning to pitiful yelps mixed excitement. David leaned across the front seat and pushed the passenger door. He saw Willie turn off to the side of the road where he couldn’t see and returned with the rabbit in his mouth it’s head barely holding onto the rest of the body.
“No! No Willie leave it,” David ordered.
Willie just stood there the rabbit in his mouth his tail still wagging his head tilted to the side. His bloody toothy smile still printed on his face.
“You’re not bringing your kill in my car. Don’t give me that look, Pop is going to get pissed. God Dammit, come on buddy hop up,” David patted the passenger side of the seat.
Willie jumped in with one leap and circled around the seat, his tail swiping David’s face and sat down in the seat.
“Drop it boy! You’re not getting blood in the interior,” barked David pointing to the dirty black carpet. Willie dropped his head down to the edge of the seat and let the rabbit fall out of his mouth, the rabbit hitting the floor like a stuffed doll. Still warm blood patches stained the textile. The rabbit’s Willie’s dark eyes look back up at David with apologetic eyes staring in deep content. David dug his fingers through Willie’s scalp giving him a small pat and smiled.
The car jumped back to life and Willie gave out a bark of excitement looking out the window in amazement. Wheels kicked up the gravel in a white cloud of dust and exhaust and the car lurched back into it’s unstable speed. Willie was pushed up against the seat, his paws desperately trying to hold his balance. David let out a chuckle as Willie danced with gravity. David flips the radio back on. Springsteen changed to Walsh singing about how good life is.
They rode along with the country road. The oaks beginning to become younger and younger as the view of the large herding fields beyond but the hills stayed in their stature. Their pigments growing brighter, the older trees behind them grew jealous and grew taller. Light was wasting but the warm afternoon sun struck the left sides of the insignificant heights. They passed Mr. Kramer’s herd as Willie and David approached Gulf Street. The cows were scattered in napping groups as their curfew drew near. Willie was unpleased with their state, and barked loudly and purposely obnoxiously. David tried to calm him down and patted his back as he stuck his neck out the window. Willie’s ears blew off to the side of his head, his blood stained mouth nipped out tasting the fast wind.
David pressed more on the gas, the car snuck up to seventy five, just to give Willie more of a thrill. Willie noticed this and let out a satisfied bark. The oaks now grew less and less, the only ones left were saplings trying to block out the landscape from behind them. David leaned forward looking into the distance and saw the barn sitting a mile off. Even from a distant you could see the brown and gray rust that made up the little two story storage barn. Willie knew he was close to home and started to whimper failing to keep his tremidpation on lock. The herding grass grew larger as they approached the house, unattended by its caregivers. Two maple trees on the right side of the road two lines of clay dirt ran lazily in a straight drunken line to the barn and the house.
The Camaro turned into the two tire trail brushing the unkept branches. The land radius around the barn was more flat and barren than the herding lands a few miles left of it. Grass grew tall but the land remained flat and obedient to the sun. No trees grew only a few scrapes of tumbleweeds and assorted brush grew idly almost in uniform shapes. But off in the Northern and South distance you could see the tops of the oaks and West you could see the road every hour or so showing the movement of old trucks containing other farmers.
Willie still stuck his head out the passenger window looking out at the Braddock’s field. David watched the barn and the house grow larger and larger. The barn faced north, it’s loose shingles slanted east. The wood frame was still intact but was stained with rust and years of thunder showers. The roof was shaped like a upside down L turned clockwise. Large chain barn doors were slightly ajar, but hung onto large hinges like guards. The house was a one storied with a small metal garage leaning on its right side containing yard equipment. A porch sternly struck out from the house, having a couple of old lawn chairs who colors faded with dust and sun. The peeling white four by fours hold the wooden roof and the fence around the perimeter of the porch. Wide windows were seen behind the chairs, which would usually let the afternoon light in. Off to the right of the porch is the kitchen window that looked across the north side of the land and the barn. Purple aster’s grew from the remains of a forgotten garden on both sides of the porch steps. The aster’s touched the top of the front porch. A attic window can be seen looking over the ring of dirt trail that’s the front lawn. The roof was strong with well kept shingles and the gutters . White paint reflected the midwestern sun but the gray roof let it in. A well kept circle of lawn surrounded the house and the barn which faced each other at a 45 degree angle.
David swung the camera into the driveway and slowly pressed the creaking squeaking brakes. Willie now look up at the sky, his tail still wagging, even though he knew was exhausted from a long day. David look past Willie and at the screen door that was atop the last porch step. Darkness seeped through the pattern of the screen door. A bottle of fresh water sat on the tobacco post that was next to the screen door.
Willie started to climb through the window, but David lurched his hand out at his tail and yanked it back enough to make him stop putting his paws up on the door.
“Hold on boy, just let me get my stuff out the back,” said David kicking his door open. He groaned stretch out his shoulders out as kicked up dust swirled around the driveway.
David opened the back seat and Willie followed him jumping narrowly through the front seats and crawling atop of his gear. Before David knew it Willie’s head was angling through his hip. David laughed frustrated and let Willie jump out of the Camero. He ducked his head into the back seat and retrieved his backpack that had paw prints jutting across the front pocket.
Willie ran up to the front steps skipping three at a time, barking shrewdly. Looking up at the house from his car David searched for signs of his Dad. Rustle of white curtain before a uneasy shuffle of feet. The low hum of the A/C and the chatter of MLB announcers. No signs presented themselves that was welcome for David. Only Willy pacing in front of the front door looking through the narrow side windows every time his head crossed them. No light illuminated the curtains sad sway with the dusty winds through the screens. The rocking chairs and lawn chairs losing their color sat in a indolent style across the porch. A cigarette bud still burned slowly on the window perch next to the white rocking chair next to the door. Willy’s nail clicked clacked against the hardwood floor.
David walked up to the steps into the shade of the porch. He dug his hand into his jean pocket while Willy looked up at him like a restless child. The hum of the cicadas now moved across the land, a symphony that brought the day to a dramatic end. David unlocked the door with ease and felt the cool air flow out of his house. Willie scampered past his feet and into the house wandering off into the darkness. David turned on the light that revealed the narrow hallway littered with a entire spectrum of photos on the right side and on the left a wide painting a beach in Florida. Beyond the kitchen door a few paces ahead to the right Willie slurped from his water bowl. David walked through the kitchen door.
“Oh crap,” he snapped walking back to the door realizing the small tracks of clay on the old wooden floors.
He tried to walk back into the kitchen. The swinging kitchen door creaked open sweeping air in rhythm. Willie looked up at him from his water bowl small droplets of water falling off his chin. David smiled and walked past the small dining table with two old furnished chairs. He hadn’t realized he was still humming “Dancing in the Dark.” Careful David that rock and roll is going to ruin you he thought making him grin wider. David threw the refrigerator door open behind the small dining table and found the new jug of milk and flicked the top off  with his thumb.
The kitchen was fading with the afternoon light and dark corners were growing larger. David hopped onto the bar stool in front of the small bar that was apart of the L that was the kitchen counter. He swigged the whole milk.  It’s frothy taste flowing down his neck cooled his afternoon exhaustion. Marcy had meandered out of his mind the way the tide does in the evening. Willie followed him to the bar and sat under his boots licking the tops of his paws.
Marbled material made up the dark counter and white cabinets and cupboards made up the muscles of the kitchen. The extra chairs to the bigger dining table in the dining room across the living room sat behind the sink. The small kitchen window smeared with generations of insects.
David got up pushing past the kitchen door and into the living room space. Willie followed patiently. The home phone sat on a small lamp table by the main couch who’s maroon material was sewn depicting endless swirls of rossy entanglements. The sun was still able to light the entire living room as David’s shadow crossed the room past the coffee table in front of the couch. He plopped down on the couch, Willie jumped up with him resting his head on David’s jeans. David’s movements now uncomfortable trying not to startle Willie. He reached for the pale blue phone punching the phone in his hand. His finger rode around the dials thinking of what to say to Marcy. Willie thought about how quickly the growing Boxwoods spiked the window panes, the light glinted across the hardwood floors and the shadows.
“What are you thinking? You know I can’t stand when you give me these kinds of silence treatments.”
“David why exactly do you stay with me?”
“Because I love you, kid.”
“Don’t say whatcha can’t take back.”
“Why would you say that. I’m trying to apologize.”
“You know how many times we cheated on each other?”
“Why did you have to go and bring that up?”
“Because I’m trying to make a point here. You don’t put yourself on the line for me.”
“What are you  talking about. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up this morning, you know how long I work afternoons.”
“That’s not the point David! Is your head so far up your ass you can’t see. We are too opposite.”
“Whatever happen to opposites attract?”
“You’re so full of it and you have no idea.”
“Listen can I talk to you in the morning my pops is about to-.”
“No David.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just please let me talk to you for real tomorrow.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
“Just- don’t break up with me. I’m sorry.”
“Bye David just try to see what you look like in real life.”
David felt his pulse in his ears. Willy looked up at him with concern in his eyes and excitement in his tail. The sun was finally over the county line but made the night clouds lighter. Dad’s going to be here any minute David thought. He realized he still had the phone clutched in his clammy hand. The wind had stopped it's afternoon shift and let the long lawn grass sway on it’s own. Sweat had taken a new around David’s back.
He stood up, looked out to the driveway. David took the milk jug off the wooden coffee table and took a long swig. Willie watched attentively starting to take longer pauses between breaths. David thought about the save he made by second base as the ball rocketed past the pitcher. He dove to his right letting his body spring out, his practice mitt extended out like a bird’s wing. A quick flash of white whizzed by his head and he felt the angelic sound of the ball hitting leather. The cheer of his fellow first round players made it’s way to him.
David walked back out to the patio, Willy following by his heels. He switched on the metal fan by a rocking chair and let his skin feel the cool air. Marcy has it all wrong he thought waiting for his father’s headlights to appear over a bend in the far off distance. Willy looked up at him, his paws resting on David’s boots. His eyes looking deep into him almost crying out to him. David tried to look  back out at the county line but realized what he had to do.
He got back up and ran inside the door. Willy followed again this time a pep in his step. David jogged into the living room and reached back for the phone realizing what he had to say. The lights of his father’s old Chevy zoomed into the dirt road.