Caleb and Kerry have joined the weekday crew in the Bryan Family Millennium Falcon. Not only are they finding their seats, now that the radio has quit working, they are also starting to learn the order of songs on the mix-CDs.
Now a sophomore, Caleb (Day #74) answers every question with one word and closes the door with a gentle, “Thankyou.”
Kerry doesn’t stop talking until he’s out of breath and closes the door with every muscle in his body.
Caleb has already considered writing a book about his brother when he gets older. Already, I can’t wait to read it.
I have studied the best of captains — Han Solo, Jim Kirk, Malcolm Reynolds, America, Jack Sparrow — and know that everyone earns their place aboard the vessel. No freeloaders allowed. Upon picking them up this morning, as their captain, I informed them that they would be earning their keep after school.
A game of catch.
“I want to use my glove,” Kerry said, attempting to negotiate with the captain.
Deal, I said.
Thoroughly gray skies filled with rain and drizzle, skies much more befitting a Monday than a Friday with no school next Monday, waited for us after school.
Caleb has been on a short break from baseball and hasn’t played catch in a couple of month. We compared pitching grips and traded gloves just for something different. There is a notable difference between his infielder’s mitt and my outfielder’s. Kerry threw a baseball in a manner consistent with his personality, putting everything in him into every single throw, complete with a little grunts at the end. He did a great job of catching the ball and said he had fun.
Kaylea and Sophie waited in the van and served as witnesses. Also, they didn’t want to get wet.
As the rain started to pick up, we sped up our game of catch. I ended the catch-playing-welcome-to-the-crew exercise and told my crewmates to get inside. This captain doesn’t want to have any sick passengers aboard his ship.
