The game was on all the tv’s when we got there. The bugs were eating this kid from New York alive. I don’t think he was from New York, but he was representing New York. The bugs had come off Lake Erie to die and stick to his neck. The survivors flew into his mouth and eyes. Chamberlain, the kid representing New York, swiped at the bugs and then threw a pitch that bounced off the backstop. Sizemore hustled down the line and slid under the tag. That tied the game at 1.

That was the only run we scored in the inning but it was enough. Fausto Carmona, stood on the mound oblivious to the Canadian soldiers that had his position surrounded. He was not from this country so maybe he didn’t know he should regard the bugs as such a nuisance. He pitched a nice ninth. The bullpen would come in and keep the game tied until another player representing Cleveland scored the winning run two innings later.

We celebrated, clapping it up, high fives and shots. As occupants of the bar and citizens of the city we were proud of the players representing Cleveland. We were relieved that they had won. Since we were more than just representatives of the city of Cleveland we expected to lose. Sons and daughters, of sons and daughters who couldn’t remember the last time we had won anything in anything.

We were going to enjoy tonight, still a win away from moving on to the next round. The bar tender was a cute girl. She looked like the kind of girl that was trying to save up to leave so she could represent New York, or some other city where dreams are rumored to come true.

She worked hard for a dreamer. The bar was pretty crowded and we didn’t have to wait too long for our drinks. Joe kept sneezing and then when somebody would say God bless you he would say God bless you back. Which wouldn’t have been too bad if he didn’t explain to whoever said it that he was saying it because everyone could use a blessing from time to time. He was pretty worked up tonight.

“You alright.”

“Yeah, I think my allergies are kicking up again.”

“We have to get all the church bulletins done, folded and delivered tomorrow. So don’t drink too much tonight.”

“ I can do all things through Jesus Christ who strengthens me.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I could drink a hundred beers, and if I asked God I would be able to get up tomorrow at six and go to work.”

“Ok Joe just make sure you are there so we can get the shit done.”

“I’m just fucking with you. I’ll be there. We do this every Saturday. You worry to much Mike. God will provide.”

“Alright Joe enough with the God talk.”

He smiled his big crazy smile and kept talking.

I drank my drink and decided to ignore Joe. He really didn’t need me to have a conversation. Our friend Sam was talking to some girl at the end of the bar. Things seemed to be going well. She was laughing.   I got a text message from Jenny this girl I fucked around with. It said, “Where are you?”

I texted her back. “ Merry Arts.”

She texted me back, “John is asleep if you want to come over.”

John was her kid. I got up to take a piss. The bathroom was very bright. In the middle of my piss my phone vibrated once. I tried to take it out of my pocket while continuing to piss. I don’t know why I didn’t just wait until I was done I knew who it was. I pissed on myself a bit.  I tried to dry the piss with a paper towel. It didn’t look to bad.  I walked back to the bar and had a seat.

Jenny had texted me again. It read, “There is some leftover meatloaf and mashed potatoes if you’re hungry.”

I didn’t reply back. I finished my drink and found Joe.

“I’m heading out man, do you want me to drop you off at home.”

“No, I’ll find my own way home.”

“You sure.”

“Save the water drink the wine Mike.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning .”

“You know it brodda.”

Joe gave me a hug before I could walk away. He could be overwhelming some times. The shit he says only makes sense to him. Like save the water drink the wine. Whenever he wants me to relax he says it. Like I’m supposed to know what the fuck that means. Now he has gotten into the habit of calling everyone brodda because he heard some Hawian UFC guy saying it on tv. I started calling him Hawaii five Joe to make fun of him, but he loved it. So I stopped calling him that. Fuck it.

I didn’t say goodbye to Sam. I didn’t want to stick my face in his good situation. I opened the door and almost hit some people smoking outside with it. They parted to let me out. It was pretty hot outside for this late in the year. I was sweating pretty good.

Jenny only lived like two minutes away. Everybody I know either lives five minutes away or five hours away. I started my car and pulled away from the curb. It only took two right turns to arrive at her house. I parked across the street from her place. I could see the light from the tv flashing in the front room.

She had told me not to ring the doorbell.   I just walked in. She was sitting on the couch. It had a sheet on it, and there was one of those oscillating fans waiving from side to side.

“Did we win?”

“Yeah.”

“Were there a lot of people at the bar?”

‘I don’t know, I guess.”

“Well about how many people do you think were there.”

“ eighty people maybe,  give or take.”

“That’s a lot. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“There is meatloaf and mashed potatoes in the oven. Just kind of sitting it should still be warm.”

“I went into the kitchen grabbed the oven mitt from off the counter and grabbed the casserole dish out of the oven. It wasn’t that hot. I wandered why she didn’t just tell me to put it in the microwave but then I noticed she didn’t have a microwave. I sat at the table and started eating.

Jen came into the kitchen bringing the fan with her. She set it on the table and plugged it in. It took turns blowing on the both of us. It felt nice.

“This is good.”

“Thanks.”

I cut the meatloaf up into little pieces and frosted each bite with mashed potatoes.

“You are a very precise person aren’t you?”

“Sure.”
“I’m glad you came over.”

I nodded.

“Are you glad you came over?

I hated compliments because the person giving them usually wants you to repeat the same thing back at them.

“Yeah, I’m glad I came over the food was good. You look good.”

“Thanks.”

We both sat at the table and let the fan bob back and forth.

“Do you want to sit in my room and talk? I have AC in there.”

“Yeah.’

We walked down the hall. She lived on the bottom of a two family house so everything was on the same floor. It had two bedrooms. We walked past her son’s room. Then there was the bathroom and then at the end of the hallway was her bedroom, probably twelve feet from her sons. She closed the door behind us and took her shirt off. She had an okay body. I was going to fuck her. She knew I was coming over but she still didn’t put on a sexy bra. She pulled down her pants. Nothing special in the underpants department either. That was okay. I kissed her. We kissed. Then she stopped and took a step to the door, locking it. I felt bad. Nothing worse then waking up scared and then finding your ma’s bedroom door locked. I would be very quiet. She did not try and act sexy walking towards the bed. I liked that. She got on top and rode me. “I reminded her to be quiet and she closed one eye and grinded out the last couple notes. She finished and let me roll her over. I kept an even rhythm, and came.

It was cool in her room. The AC was really blowing hard. I wanted to get out of there before her son knocked on the door. I didn’t want to be some grown man who let a kid call him by his first name. Giving him shitty remote control cars and promising to take him to the batting cages. I wanted to be invisible. A ghost, a friend of his mom’s, Mr. Ridali, just another Mr. not to be remembered anymore or less, just a name that was occasionally mentioned.

I put my clothes back on.

“I have to get up early tomorrow for work.”

“Okay.”
“Thanks for everything.”
”You’re welcome.”

“You make good meatloaf.”

“Thanks.”

I opened and closed every door quietly.