RBI Baseball

Abstract

BRIAN OLIU RBI Baseball H H hisis thepartwherewe aresupposedto keepan eyeon things. ■■I This is thepartwhereour eyewillnotmove,willnotdartto something else flickering: the sightof something whitewaving,the shapeofmouthsforming wordsthatarelostinthelights. Myright eye twitches whenI havehad littlesleep.It twitches whenI can'tthink of wordsto say- skinspitting outwordsin theformofwaves,a ballfluttering abovethewhiteplatebefore diving intothedirt. Thereisa belief thatifyoucanseesomething youcanhitit- strike itoutoftheairlikea gnatcircling-tosmacka bodywitha palm,tohaveitchangedirections suddenly. I willstand,shoulders cockedbacklikeI am trying to push mybonesup through myskin- likeI am trying to spreadwings- like I amtrying tounderstand flight. Swing, yousay, and I do: I hitnothing butairandmyself-thebarrelofmetalslapping mybackon thefollowthrough likeI was meantto do that:likeI was beingcelebrated, like I had earnedtheright to shakehands,to smokecigars, to kissthegirl whoworered.Keep an eyeon noneofthosethings. Do notlookatany ofthosethings-do notpicturetheminyourhead,do notplacetheir facesbetweenthestitching. When youmakecontact, whenthesound ofmetalhitsleather:run.Yourmother, there, willblink.Yourfather, theretoo,willblink.I cannothearwhattheyaresaying. I cannothear whatthey aresaying butitsoundslikestatic, likewhitenoise,likethecat pawingatthepondbehindourhouse,likewaterslurring. IfI couldsee theirmouthsI couldseewhatthey weresaying: aboutneglect, abouta carshifting from parktoneutral, aboutthetirerunning overmyleglike a dead rabbit, likea lumpofskininthemiddleoftheroad.I cannotsee their mouths becauseI needtokeepmyeyeon theball.Myeyeisonthe balland itisgetting closer.Myeyeis on theballand itisgetting closer and themouthsaregetting larger: handsoverfaceslikewhispers, like I am stealing signs, likeI am readinglips.He is goingto do this.He is I20 goingtodo this, andthenthat.Theywillnevertell:inside, outside, fast, slow.ThisisthepartwhereI amsupposedtokeepaneyeonthings. This isthepartwhereI amsupposedtokeepaneyeon things butitisclosing upwithout asking, quivering. This iswhereI wonder.This iswherethe ballhitsmesquareon theback.This iswhereI makecontact: run.This iswhatI havepracticed for. ThisiswhereI remember tossing theballup intotheairandswinging. ThisiswhereI missedtheball.ThisiswhereI missedtheballandhityou- theboneaboveyoureyethesweetest spot. This iswhereI bring youintothehousefromtheyardand explainto yourfather whathad happened,thatitwas an accident, thatI did not meanto makecontact, I nevermakecontact, and thatI canbe trusted. I canbe trusted, I promise, I canbe trusted. Trustme,I canbe trusted. IfI meantto do itI wouldhavehithimbehindtheeyes.I wouldhave hithimbehindtheeyesand hewouldhavedroppedlikea stone,likea dead fir root,likea sackofbones.The nextday, thechildren askedwhat happenedandyoupointedatme;yousaiditwason purpose, thatitwas withpurpose.You said I keptmyeyeon it.You said I keptmyeyeon youreyeand I swungthrough it- I can hitanything I wantto.I have suchaccuracy. I canhitflares andbombsandfrozen ropes.I canhitthe barn.I canhittheworld.The children willhavenothing todo withthis. The children believeinjustice.The children puta grocery bagovermy headandpunchedmethrough it,their smallfists hitting neckandcheek. Keep youreyeon thedarkness-do notlistento whattheyaresaying: their wordsarehollow- rhubarb, peasandcarrots, watermelon, wallow, wallow, wallowHow muchlonger. How muchlonger. How muchlonger. Ifyoucouldsee me outthere, youcouldsee meswatting theflies abovemyhead,theflowers in thefield.IfI had thetimeI wouldsteal one fromtheground, separateearthfromtaprootand place itbehind myearlikea pencil,likea reminder ofwhereI amandwhatI cando. If I hadthetime,I wouldtakea breathandblowflorets-I wouldscatter thewhiteness onthewind,I wouldmakethings grow: a milkpotofdogs milk, a monkscrown, a moles salad.IfI hadthetime,I wouldsnapthe stemwitha quietcrack, I wouldholdtheyellowflower underneath my chinandaskyouifI likebutter - ifI wouldslideitintosmallsquares- if I wouldspreaditon bread.Youwouldhandme thesilver knife, and I 121 wouldleave.You wouldhandme thesilverspoon,and I wouldleave. You wouldhandme thesilver fork, and I wouldleave.You wouldask mehowI didit- toswinghardenoughtoremoveheadfrom bodylike a wingfrom a moth,to causea markthatwe wantedto rubourfingers over.Letme teachyou.Keep youreyeshere.Watch.Letme showyou how I willbringyouto yourbeds.Watchtheangleoftheelbow,the positionofthewrists. 122 ...