The Hitting Zone

Chapter 370 Zeke’s Friend: Rhys 1

With everyone going back to smaller groups, and Zeke going with Mr. Cameron for an interview, Noah and I moved to the backyard to get some space. Oddly, we weren’t the only ones with that idea. A tall young man was standing on the back patio, staring at the twin’s pitching training equipment. I recognized him as the friend of Zeke. The one he wanted in the video that stood opposite of Noah and I.

"Hey Rhys!" Noah greeted, closing the sliding door behind us. It was cool outside, but it was definitely getting warmer with summer around the corner.

The young man turned and gave us a smile. "Hey, Noah. How are you?"

"Not bad! Can’t complain." Noah sized him up, looking him up and down like he was a mannequin. "How about you? You look like you’re staying in shape."

A corner of his mouth lifted to form a half-smile. "I do what I can." He looked at me. "You must be Jake? I’ve heard a lot about you." He held out his right hand.

I glanced at Noah, but could only see a smile on his face. He wasn’t wary against him so neither should I. I slowly stuck out my right hand and gave his a quick shake. He didn’t grasp my hand tightly or force the handshake. It was like he was letting me be in control in deciding what kind of handshake I wanted. It was brief and light, before I took my hand back.

"This is Rhys." Noah introduced. "He’s been friends with Zeke since I was born."

I looked at Rhys, surprised. That meant he and Zeke were friends since they were toddlers?

Rhys laughed. "Almost." He smiled at me, looking friendly like Noah. "Zeke and I played T-ball together. Our first year of baseball was spent together, and then we just happened to share quite a few teams as we grew up, playing little league."

Wow. Real childhood friends. "Do you go to our school?" I asked, curious as to why I haven’t seen him before.

"Oh, no." He answered, looking slightly surprised that I would speak. "I live a couple hours away. North of the Bay Area. Just before high school, my parents and I moved so I don’t get to see Zeke and the Atkins as much as I used to." He rubbed Noah’s head, messing up the already messy hair. "Look how tall you’re getting! Crazy how much you grew in the last few months."

Noah pushed his hand away, and scoffed. "Yea, right. I’m nowhere near Zeke’s height when he was a freshman. I don’t know if I’ll ever get as tall as him and the twins."

"Well, height doesn’t always matter in baseball." Rhys tried to console him.

"But it would help!" Noah sighed.

Rhys just laughed and gave Noah another pat on the head. "Why are you in such a hurry? There’s time. You’ll grow, get stronger, faster, and even better at baseball. Just one step at a time."

Noah glanced up at Rhys. "You sound better." I didn’t understand. That’s a weird thing to say out of nowhere.

"I feel better." Rhys answered, understanding right away what Noah was saying.

Noah nodded more to himself than to Rhys.

I was confused as to what they were talking about but it seemed serious, and not something that I could just ask about.

"Hey hey! What’s with this solemn atmosphere?!" Kyle had opened the back door and took a step outside. Dave, Zeke, and Mr. Cameron were just behind him.

"It’s not solemn." Noah refuted. "Peaceful. It’s a peaceful atmosphere!"

"I could tell." Dave snorted. "Rhys isn’t a wild child anymore. He’s been so calm and quiet today."

Rhys laughed at the jab. "It’s Zeke’s day. You know I wouldn’t steal the show from him on a day like this."

"Don’t be lying." Dave came over and stood beside him. "During Zeke’s interview, Mr. Cameron had asked about you! You just making an appearance can steal the show."

"How can I steal the show?" He let out a sharp and short laugh, scaring me a little. "I don’t even play anymore."

"But, you’re making a comeback." Zeke said calmly. He closed the backdoor after everyone stepped out, including Mr. Cameron. "I told Mr. Cameron and he wanted to ask a few questions about it."

Rhys, who had just said he was feeling ’better’, had frowned at Zeke. "What’s there to say?"

Mr. Cameron stepped up before Zeke could answer. "Sorry Rhys, seeing you here made my imagination run wild. I just wanted to ask a few questions to cure my curiosity. They won’t be for Zeke’s article, but maybe something I can put together later on."

"Aren’t you feeling better?" Noah smiled, looking up at him. "He’s probably just asking about your recovery."

"Ah, you got me." Rhys sighed. Then he looked at Mr. Cameron. "What do you want to know?"

"Just the basics. How’s recovery? Have you started rehab? What are your goals for the future? Would you like to get back to baseball?" Mr. Cameron had pulled out his notepad and pen, ready to take notes.

Rhys used his right hand to grab his left elbow. "It’s going a lot better now. After surgery, I had a rough start and just wasn’t in a good place for recovery. Mentally. There was a lot of ’what if’s’ that haunted me and made it hard to sleep."

"And how did you cope with that?"

Rhys looked around him at the Atkins boys, looking slightly embarrassed. His eyes locked on Zeke and it seemed to help him. "I broke down and went to see a therapist. Not a physical therapist, but a real one. To help clear my thoughts." He eyed the twins, unsure of their response.

"That’s good!" Noah jumped in. "Jake and I go to his therapist once a week. I always feel better when leaving. Right Jake?" He looked to me.

With all the attention directed to me, I felt uncomfortable. I shifted from foot to foot. "Yea..."

"Jake, can I ask you some more questions about that?" Mr. Cameron asked. "Once I’m done with Rhys that is. I heard from Wayne that you were talking a little more and was hoping I could get a few snippets."

I gulped. "Can it not...be about therapy..?"

"It’s not something to be embarrassed about."

That’s not...why. I’m not embarrassed. It’s just- I’m not going to therapy for baseball. I’m going because my mom almost killed me. "It’s not something I want to talk about just yet." I forced myself to speak up.

"Okay, maybe another time. I’d still like to ask about how your season is going afterwards." Mr. Cameron let me off the hook.

I gave a nod. I could do that. I think.

He turned back to Rhys, who looked more relaxed knowing that the Atkins didn’t have anything to say about him going to therapy. He let go of his elbow and looked to be at ease.

"So you decided to go see a therapist because you weren’t in a good spot, mentally." Mr. Cameron made his notes. "Were you scared that you weren’t able to throw a baseball again?"

"Something like that. It was a mix of other things that followed as well. Like I’m too young. It’s going to be a long road of recovery. And my least favorite thought: could I have prevented this?" Rhys told him. He lifted his left arm, bending it at the elbow and showing us the inside. "The physical scar isn’t nearly half as bad as the mental one." On the inner side of his arm, Rhys had a red scar that was almost six inches long.

I gulped. How did that happen? Did he also have a mom like mine? A crazy parent?

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