“Heeeey, badda, badda!!”
“Horsehide! Horsehide! Come on, right here!!”
“Bringin’ the gas!”
The baseball team—on the field for practice every day of the year except New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day—seemed uncharacteristically happy for a school day in the middle of summer. They were taking up the entire schoolyard, and as they practiced, they shouted all kinds of gibberish at each other.
The rest of the school’s students slowly walked by, still in a summer stupor… Of course, the four of us were no exception. We trudged toward the doors of the school building as the warning bell rang out. Our bicycles, board, and scooter had been stashed in the parking lot of a nearby convenience store.
Hearing the baseball team, Junichi mockingly remarked, “What’s badda supposed to be anyway?”
“A batter, I guess?” Minoru responded with a big laugh. “You’d think they could at least pronounce it right.”
“Yeah, and what about horsehide?”
“Isn’t that what they call the ball?”
“And bringin’ the gas?”
“No clue.”
Soccer had been the sport in vogue since we were little, and in comparison, baseball seemed well past its prime. As far as we were concerned, baseball was for old farts. But because Moshimo’s vocational school had once won the national high school championships, baseball had been slow to wane here, and plenty of kids in the town preferred it to soccer.
A wayward ball rolled toward our feet, and a dirt-smeared member of the team chased it down at full speed.
“I can’t believe the whole team’s still got buzz cuts. You’d think that kind of thing would have died out years ago.”
“Never gonna score with a girl looking like that.”
“I can’t even imagine why anyone would sign up for baseball.”
We scoffed, but actually, Yusuke, Junichi, Minoru, and I had all been on a little league team during our first three years of elementary. Our parents had made us. We were completely uninterested, and instead of practicing, we’d kick the rubber kiddie baseballs around on the ground like soccer balls. Eventually, the coach got fed up and declared that we had all “voluntarily” retired ourselves from the team. We four had been friends before then, but the little league fiasco was what really brought us close.
No single member of our group stood out as the leader, but Junichi was usually the one starting games and conversations, and Minoru was quick to follow along. When it came to topics, though, Junichi seemed to be eternally stuck in elementary school. Recently, Yusuke and I had begun to get a little tired of it.
“Pick up the pace, guys!!”
A bright voice echoed out behind us, and we turned to see Ms. Miura riding up from the school gates on a granny bike. Her chest bobbed as she pedaled, and the buttons running down her white blouse looked about ready to pop off.
“Oh man, we’ve got some serious action again today.”
“I’d say that’s about a six on the Richter scale.”
“Who came in last?”
“Junichi!”
“Oh yeah, like a skateboard’s gonna beat a bike!”
Even as he complained, Junichi sprinted forward with a big grin on his face. A moment later, he was jumping onto the back of Ms. Miura’s bicycle.
“Hey! Get off of there!”
Ms. Miura’s handlebars wobbled unsteadily from the sudden extra weight. Junichi’s hands reached around and firmly gripped the woman’s chest.
“That is not appropriate!”
Ms. Miura slammed on her brakes and then threw her elbows back. Junichi avoided the blow, hopped off the bicycle, and started running across the schoolyard.
“Tajima! You get back here this instant!!”
As she sped after him on her bike, the remaining three of us broke down laughing and called out, “Junichi! How big are they?!”
“J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J-J cup!!”
He held up his hands in the shape of a J. As he continued to run, he passed in front of a girl walking toward the school building.
It was Nazuna.
“There’s no way they’re that big!!”
Junichi and Ms. Miura had sped right in front of Nazuna’s eyes, but the girl hadn’t even turned her head. She’d continued walking straight forward, unfazed and uninterested. It might have been my imagination, but the expression on Nazuna’s face seemed a little sad.
Something felt different about her…first the strange behavior along the coastline that morning and now that melancholy expression. My musings, however, were soon drowned out by the ringing of the school bell.