The Baseball Incident

It was a perfect Saturday morning in the town of Melville for a youth baseball game. The game was between the Melville Raiders and the Townsend Barons at Kingsley field. The late Spring weather was warm and sunny. The only barometric atmospheric pressure was in the mind of the Raider’s twelve-year-old pitcher, Mitchell LeFlore. Mitchell stood on the pitching mound trying to throw strikes to the opposing Batter.

“You got this sweetie!” Maureen LeFlore yelled from the stands to Mitchell.

Mitchell was embarrassed by his Mom’s outburst but had other pressing matters. The count on the Batter was two balls and no strikes. The bases around the baseball diamond were occupied by baserunners.

With a baseball in hand, Mitchell stood on the mound staring down the Batter. Then posing in normal pitching form, he lifted his front leg, twisting and curling it up to his body. Mitchell then uncoiled himself hurling the white, red-laced ball towards the home plate. The ball went wide making the catcher behind the plate fall to one side blocking the wild pitch.

“Ball three,” the home plate Umpire behind the Catcher shouted.

Mitchell’s team gave a bothered sigh, while the opposition clapped. There was still no score in the game but if Mitchell threw one more ball, the batter would walk to first base, allowing the baserunner at third base to score.

“He’s no pitcher,” a Baron’s bench Player said, “just a belly itcher!”

The Barons sitting alongside their poet teammate laughed.

“You got this Mitch,” Coach Wilts said clapping his hands. “Let’s go fourteen!”

Wilts was standing in the dugout with nine players on the bench watching.

Mitchell nodded then looked at his Mom and Dad. David LeFlore gave his Son the I’m proud of you whatever happens nod. Mitchell’s sister Emily, almost five years old, sat next to her Parents looking bored.

Mitchell exhaled and threw the ball. The Batter was right on the ball, making contact as he swung. The ball bounced off the bat hitting Mitchell on the side of his head. The hard ball hitting Mitchell’s head felt like a sonic boom. Mitchell blacked out.

---------------

When Melville Detective Paul Kresnick arrived at the ball field, he saw paramedics, firefighters and police officers assisting people. A police Officer informed Kresnick that during a little league baseball game, everyone from the players to the spectators were rendered unconscious.

Kresnick interviewed the players who were still sitting by their fielding positions. Everyone seemed in good health, but unsure what happened. Even the spectators around the ballpark did not recall the event. Kresnick, looking at the home team’s roster, stood at home plate as a groggy coach Wilts approached. 

“You wanted to see me Detective?” Coach Wilts asked.

“Yes Coach. Who was your Pitcher?”

“Pitcher?”

“Yes sir, I met with your players on the field and bench, but I haven’t talked with your pitcher. There was no pitcher on the mound.”

Wilts looked confused trying to recall who was the pitcher.

“I don’t know. It must have been someone, but I can’t recall.”

“Was it one of the kids on the bench?”  

Wilts smirked.

“The bench players are not the strongest players and definitely wouldn’t be pitching.”

“Then who was pitching? It looks like the missing player has a jersey number of fourteen.”

“Fourteen? No, we don’t have a player with that jersey number.”

“Counting the players on the field and your bench, there are seventeen jersey numbers accounted for, but one jersey, player, is missing. It must be number fourteen.”

“Sorry Detective, I don’t follow.”

Kresnick showed Wilts the roster.

“I took attendance using the roster by matching the players to their positions on the field. Then I matched it to the bench players. All of the numbers and players are accounted for except for one. Fourteen must be the Pitcher.”

“I don’t know Detective, these shirts were used by last year’s team, I guess fourteen wasn’t returned.”

Kresnick watched Wilts leave. He believed the coach but thought it was odd that Wilts could not determine who pitched.

“His name is Mitchell,” a voice said.

Kresnick turned to see little Emily LeFlore looking up at him. Emily was holding a pink panther stuffed animal that she called “Sweaty.” Kresnick smiled and crouched down to Emily.

“Who’s Mitchell?”

“The Boy that was standing on the dirt hill,” Emily said. “He’s my brother. Well he was. I think.”

David and Maureen LeFlore rushed over to Emily and Kresnick.

“Emily? What are you doing?” Maureen said grabbing the Girl’s hand.

“Sorry Mommy,” Emily responded.

“I’m sorry Detective,” David said, “was she trouble for you?”

“No, not at all. In fact, she gave me my best lead yet, the Pitcher’s name. She said it was her brother Mitchell. Is that your son?”

David and Maureen turned to Emily.

“Emily,” David said in a stern tone.

“We don’t have a son, Detective,” Maureen said.

“Emily has a make-believe friend named Mitchell,” David stated, “sometimes she calls him her brother.”

“We don’t know why she does that,” Maureen said. “Perhaps only child syndrome?”

“I see,” Kresnick said. “What brought you to today’s game? Do you have a relative or friend on one of the teams?”

Both Maureen and David looked confused by the question.

“Why are we here David?” Maureen asked. “We don’t even like baseball.”

“I’m not sure,” David said. “I guess we had nothing else better to do.”

Kresnick spent the remaining day interviewing the crowd about the missing pitcher named Mitchell. The Detective got no answers just a lot of confused expressions. Hours later after the crowd dispersed, Kresnick stood at home plate eyeing the pitcher’s mound. Detective Mike Brett, Kresnick’s boss, arrived at the scene.

“What? You waiting for someone to play catch with you?” Brett asked.

Kresnick turned to his short-rotund mentor.

“This is a crime scene,” Kresnick said.

“Really? I’ve talked with every officer and first responder and, though it’s odd, there’s no crime. What crime do you think happened?”

“We have a missing person. And a missing ball.”

---------------

Mitchell woke up to a burning feeling on the side of his face. The sensation throbbed from his temple down to his upper cheek. He wondered what happened but saw the culprit lying next to him, the baseball.

Mom is going to be so mad that I got hurt, he thought.

Mitchell sat up as he grabbed the grass stained ball. He gripped the ball, feeling a dent to where it met his face. Then Mitchell remembered pitching against the Townsend Barons. Mitchell looked for the pitching mound, but realized he was sitting on a steel grated catwalk. Under the catwalk was darkness.

Mitchell stood up. On his periphery were bright blinding lights, humming and pulsating, from both sides of the stanchion. Once Mitchell’s eyes adjusted to the lights, he saw peculiar objects that scared him.

“Mom! Dad! Help!” Mitchell screamed.

There was no reply, just echoes. The twelve-year old Boy continued crying while holding his welted face. He became more confused than afraid, though both emotions where clinging to each other. As the eyes made the correct adjustment to the lights, Mitchell saw the views and realized he stood between two spheres.

Mitchell studied the spheres. Each sphere had multiple glass tiles on it resembling a mirrored disco dance ball. Each tile was a window that showed a location. The tiles moved at a slow pace as it rotated. Mitchell watched the first sphere looking for landmarks. He was taking geography at school and saw the section of tiles that made up the continents of Europe and Asia. The Boy realized he was looking at an active globe of the Earth that was separated in sections of tiles. The other sphere was of similar design, but it showed only one continent that did not look familiar.

“Where am I?”

Mitchell saw the sectioned tiles that made up North America and touched it. Touching it gave Mitchell a zoom-in view of the continent. Mitchell then touched the tile again getting a deeper drill-down to the state of Massachusetts. He touched the state’s tile and scanned for Melville. He smiled when he saw Melville in view.

“Home!” He said touching the town tile until it expanded into full view of Kingsley field.

It was evening at the empty field. He tapped the tile which turned the tile into a live portal. Air gusts hit Mitchell’s face. He could smell the grass and dirt from the ball field. It was a comfort scent that made him smile. He stepped through the elongated and wide portal and onto the dewy field.

“Hello!” Mitchell yelled. “Is anyone here? It’s me Mitchell LeFlore. I don’t know what has happened but I’m back. Hello? Can anyone hear me?”

There was no answer only the sound of a pounding rapid heartbeat with swooshing and chomping noises. He looked up and saw large jellyfish looking creatures with large flapping wings flying in the sky. Their white almost see-through wings looked like clear plastic bags. The creatures circled the sky targeting Mitchell.

Mitchell ran across the field yelling for help. The jellyfish creatures swooped down catching and covering the Boy with their wings. The wings wrapped around the Boy’s body which sounded like two balloons rubbing against each other. After Mitchell was wrapped, he was removed and brought back into the portal.

Mitchell was released from the mucous wrap and fell onto the catwalk. Mitchell gasped for air and then cried.

“They are called Eschreechins,” a voice said in front of Mitchell. “They mean you no harm. They only remove things that don’t belong to Earth.”

“Who are you?” Mitchell asked trying to contain his emotions.

“I’m Johnny Walsh. Welcome to Tween World. I’m here to help you. You are?”

“Mitchell. I want to get home.”

“I can’t help you with that Mitchell. Every time you try to jump back to Earth, the Eschreechins will come and take you away. I was a pre-med student in college before this and I think you, like me, once we got expunged from Earth…”

“Expunged?”

Johnny smiled.

“It means removed or erased. Whatever happened to you removed you permanently from Earth.”

“But I just went onto the ball field where I came from.”

“Yes, until the Eschreechins found you and brought you back here. You are no longer considered a part of the Planet. The Eschreechins are like antibodies that search for an unfamiliar invader, foreign object, a virus and removes it. It’s the planet’s immune system. Do you remember anything?”

“I was hit with this baseball in the head.”

Johnny nodded and smiled.

“That will do it,” Johnny said. “I was playing football returning a punt and got ganged tackle. I woke up with my head hurting. That force was enough to bring me here, just like you getting hit by a baseball. We literally have been knocked out of this world.”

“My Parents must be so sad that this has happened. I’ve got to tell them where I am.”

“You can but they won’t know you. When you got hit, like me, it was as if we never existed. Not only were you removed from Earth, but any record of your existence has been…”

“Expunged.” Mitchell interrupted.

“Yes.”

“I’ve got to try!” Mitchell said touching the tiles that showed Melville. “If my Parents see me, they will remember!”

That’s what I thought once too, Johnny thought.

Mitchell touched the tile and found his home. It was Sunday morning the day after the incident. The two misplaced Males watched Detective Kresnick walk up the walkway to the LeFlore’s home. Kresnick pressed the doorbell and the door was opened by Emily.

“Hi Mister.” She said.

“Hi, Emily, is your Parents home?” 

“Mommy, Daddy the Man from the field is here.”

Maureen LeFlore approached the door.

“Detective?” Maureen said. “Is there a problem?”

“No Ma’am just following up with you. I wanted to see if anything changed with your memory. Do you or your husband recall anything more?”

“No sorry. We don’t know why we were there.”

Kresnick nodded.

“And you said you only had the one child, this little one here.”

“Yes Detective. We only have Emily.”

Mitchell and Johnny continued watching the conversation until Kresnick left.

“She doesn’t know me,” Mitchell said. “That Detective thinks I exist. I’ve got to get through to my Parents!”

“Do what you have to do Mitchell,” Johnny said. “I’ll wait here.”

Mitchell touched the view of the front steps to his home and walked onto it. He then knocked on the door, where both of his Parents appeared.

“May I help you?” David LeFlore asked.

“I seem to be lost,” Mitchell said.

“Lost?” Maureen asked. “Are you new to the neighborhood?”

Mitchell was in shock as his Parents did not know him. It reminded him of the time when a baby bird fell out of a nest and was ignored by its mother.

“Yes, I live on Talbot Street.” Mitchell answered.

“That’s a few streets over,” David said, “just walk down this street here and take a left.”

Mitchell nodded and walked off down the street. He could hear the Eschreechins coming for him. Minutes later, the clear wings wrapped him up, delivering him back to the catwalk on Tween world.

“Welcome back,” Johnny said pulling the slimy Mitchell back on his feet. “Look Mitch, I know this is very disturbing, but you’re alive. And there is a place for us.”

Mitchell ignored Johnny and continued his trek back to home. He figured eventually his Parents would remember him, but they never did. He approached Emily, but she considered him an imaginary friend. He also tried other people he knew around the town, but no one remembered him. Mitchell also realized that whomever he talked to had no recollection the next day of their discussion.

For the next few months, Mitchell focused in on Detective Kresnick, who was the only one looking for him. Mitchell appreciated the man’s efforts despite being ridiculed by his peers.

Johnny arrived back on the catwalk to see Mitchell.

“You’re right Johnny, nobody knows me.”

“I’m sorry about that Mitchell. You can’t go back permanently to Earth, but you can go to the other world.”

Johnny pointed to the other sphere.

“Is it Heaven?”

“No, it’s not Heaven, you’re not dead. The world is called Pleasant Valley. It’s a place filled with people like us and others. You’ll be surprised who is down there. Some of the people you may even recognize.”

“Are they dead?” Mitchell asked.

“According to Earth they are, but they’re alive,” Mitchell said. “I see dead people, they’re everywhere. They don’t know they’re alive.”

Johnny could tell that Mitchell never saw the Movie the Sixth Sense.

“Look Mitch, down in Pleasant Valley there’s a town called Shadbush. I joke around saying Welcome to Shadbush, where are you? Anyway, Shadbush’s a good place to live. The People are very nice. Let’s go there, you can stay with me. Are you hungry? There’s a Diner that has great food. Just don’t eat the meatloaf, it tends to have bones in it. What do you say?”

“Ok,” Mitchell said, “but I need to do something first.”

Kresnick walked into the Melville Police station’s detective room and sat at his desk. On the desk was a baseball with the following words written on it:

Dear Detective Kresnick,

You can stop looking for me.

I’m in a good place.

Thanks for believing in me!

Mitchell LeFlore #14

The End