The soup plantation was heaven. Or at least as close as I could get without dying. I was able to try every soup, including ones I've never had before. The adults talked about having Mr. Duncan and Dr. Moore over for dinner in order to talk about Sunday night's game plan with meeting with the school board. The twins talked about pitching techniques. Noah was attempting to bargain with Zeke, trying get this afternoon practice either postponed or totally cancelled. I happily enjoyed the atmosphere around the family, satisfied with the food.
After lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Atkins headed home, while us boys went straight to the park. Zeke took us to the same park as before a couple weeks ago. We placed our bags down, and got out the necessary gear, then began to warmup.
After sufficiently stretching and warming up the muscles, we got into position. Or at least, Noah and I did. Zeke took a small bucket of baseballs, a bat, and stood near home plate. He declared the twins as stand ins. One was to be the first baseman, and the other had to be the runner so we could properly work on turning double plays.
Then we started to practice. Zeke would take turns hitting grounders to me and Noah in order to keep us on our toes. The twins had to take turns being the runner, since they would get tired after 15 or so sprints. I really got the hang of fielding the ball quickly to Noah as he stood on second, then he would throw to first. Even after a collision with Kyle, noah popped up without a problem and just kicked dirt at his brother, laughing.
The hard part came when it was Noah's turn to throw to me, and I was to throw to first. I didn't realize how awkward I was before when throwing from second to first. After a few, I was able to find good positioning so I didn't have to turn at weird angles to get the ball to first.
"You're looking much more natural." Noah complimented at the end of it all, as we packed up our bags. "It's hard to believe that you haven't played real baseball. Your talent is on par with Zeke's."
I glanced at Zeke, who was already heading to the family car. "I don't know about that. He's really tall and can hit homers. I struggle getting the ball to the outfield." I looked back at Noah. "You guys are all naturally tall so that would help with your baseball potential."
Noah nodded, then he looked unsure. "Can I ask how tall your mom is?"
I froze for a second.
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about her. I just figured you can predict your final height when looking at your parents." Noah explained.
"It's fine." I told him. Then held my hand up just a little above his 5'6". "She's a bit taller than you. Maybe and inch or two."
"5'7" to 5'8"? That's pretty tall for a woman."
I snorted. "Your mom is six foot."
Noah laughed. "Yea. We got pretty good genes. But you know, as long as your dad is taller than your mom, you should be at least her height!"
I laughed. "Genes don't always work like that. I could have all recessive genes and be this short for the rest of my life."
Noah narrowed his eyes. "So being short would be a recessive gene for you? You know how tall your dad is?"
I swallowed hard. Then looked around to make sure Zeke and the twins weren't close enough to hear. "It's been years. I was really little when he left. Three or four. It's a vague memory. But he was taller than my mom for sure."
Noah patted my shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't let anyone take you away. Especially not someone who had left you before." I sighed with relief. "Hey...do you ever wonder why he left you though? Was your mom not crazy back then?"
I shrugged. "I was too young to understand anything. All I know is living with my mom."
Noah frowned, but didn't say anymore about it. Instead, we walked to the car in silence, and put our bags with the others, then got in the backseat.
We headed back to the house to shower off the sweat and dirt. I finished first in our bathroom so Noah had to go second. With nothing to do in our room, I headed down the stairs.
"Hey Jake, how's it going?" Mr. Duncan was in the dining room with Mrs. Atkins. I guess it was getting close to dinner time.
"I'm okay." I shrugged.
"He and Noah had to sit on the bench for today's game." Mrs. Atkins told him. "They both skipped practice on Thursday."
Mr. Duncan watched me closely. "I know all about the incident with Mrs. Golladay. And although I think she is under qualified as a school counselor, I still think you shouldn't have ran away from school."
"I know." I mumbled. "I had other choices."
"Good. I'm glad you know that." Mr. Duncan smiled. "I don't want to get such a phone call again. I was scared that something may have seriously happen."
"Something serious did happen." Mrs. Atkins stated. "This lady scared him. What kind of school employee does that?"
"Okay, okay." Mr. Duncan conceded. "I was just thinking, in the moment, that he could have been kidnapped or something. Some foster children, who run away, end up being kidnapped and sold by human traffickers. It's a scary world out there."
Mrs. Atkins frowned. "How does that even happen?"
Mr. Duncan gave a helpless shrug. "If a foster kid runs away, sometimes the foster families don't report it so they can still collect money. By the time we find out, there'll be no trace of the kids."
How scary. I looked to Mrs. Atkins. "I won't run away."
Mrs. Atkins widened her eyes. "Oh, Jake, I know. I wouldn't let you go missing like that."
"I definitely wouldn't let Jake vanish." Noah claimed as he walked into the room. He threw his arm around me. "Jake is here to stay. No matter what."
Mrs. Atkins beamed at the sight of us being so close. However, Mr. Duncan had a slight frown upon his face. I could tell what he was thinking. What if they found my dad? What if he wanted me back? I knew they were struggling with finding him, but eventually it'll come up. I'm going to have to beat them to it. I'm sure there's some kind of paper I can get him to sign so he can't claim me.
"Dr. Moore is here too." Mr. Atkins walked in with the doctor behind him, breaking up my thoughts. "Why don't we start talking about what we should do in tomorrow's meeting with the school board?" Right. One thing at a time.
