Turbulence rocked the small aircraft, sending Zeke's stomach into a tailspin. This is better than a roller coaster, he thought, although he wished for a smoother flight. Flying wasn't one of his favorite things to do, but it would become a necessary evil in his line of work. Thankfully, he didn't have to pay for this one. His flight from Sarasota to Detroit had gone very smooth, but the commuter shuttle from Detroit to Dayton, Ohio was rough almost from the start. Wind and rain battered the twelve seat craft, but the pilot seemed to know what he was doing and the rocking had been kept to a minimum.
Zeke thought back to the previous day when the director of player personnel for the Cincinnati Reds called him and asked him to meet him in his hotel room. He didn't read anything into it and thought the meeting would be about where he would be assigned for the upcoming season. A fourth round draft choice from the previous year, Zeke had played for a month in Billings, Montana for their rookie league team after his season at the University of Texas was completed. He had pitched well for that month, but he figured he would go back for another season. That's what usually happened. Ideally, he would have liked to start in class- AA Chattanooga, but instead, he was surprised to find out he was being assigned to Dayton, their class-A team.
He knew no one from that area and discerned he would have to find somewhere to stay for the spring and summer. Usually, the team was pretty good about finding housing for their players, usually with fans in the area who had extra room. That's what happened in Billings. An elderly couple who had season tickets for the Mustangs let him use a room in their home for that month. They were very, very nice, only charged him a hundred dollars and Zeke hoped to live with them again, but it wasn't to be.
The plane hit another pocket and the young girl to his right began to turn different shades of green. Her hand reached for the vomit bag in front of her, but stopped when the plane became stable once more. Zeke smiled at her reassuringly, hoping it would calm her. He certainly didn't want her to toss her cookies. He didn't mind the sound, but the smell would probably make him retch, too.
"First flight?" he asked. She nodded. "We'll be there soon." He looked down outside his window and saw the skyline of Columbus below him. He saw the Olentangy River snaking its way around the city and the unmistakable shape of Ohio State's football stadium. He sighed softly and thought they'd only have another fifteen minutes to go.
* * * * *
"What do you mean you're leaving?" Keri shrieked, her eyes staring daggers at the man packing his suitcase. She had come home from work to find him there.
"I told you a month ago I was tired of your shit, so I found another place to live." He continued to throw shirt after shirt into the large, leather case.
"What am I supposed to do?" she wailed. She couldn't understand why he was doing this to her. She thought things were going well for them, not perfect, but certainly better than before. She was making an effort. Wasn't that enough?
"I don't know, Keri," he replied grimly, "but it's not my worry." He shut the case and put another on the bed in its place.
"Oh, that's just great!" She was starting to get really angry. The shock had worn off. "You leave just when all the bills are due and it's your turn to pay them."
"I'll send you some money."
"Write me a check now."
"I don't have it. I don't get paid until Friday, you know that."
"That's just like you. Not a penny to your name until payday. Why did I hook up with you in the first place?" She shook her head in anger.
"Must have been my personality," he replied sarcastically. He left the small room and went to the bathroom to collect his toiletry items. Keri stayed in the room, arms across her chest and glaring in his direction.
"I can't believe you're just going to up and leave after all we've been through," she said in his direction.
"Listen, honey," he said as he returned, "it was fun for a while, but you have to admit, things sucked pretty bad these past few months."
"If you hadn't been screwing around, things might not have been so bad."
He had enough by then. "Drop it, Keri! We've been through this over and over again." They stared at each other. "Just drop it," he said quietly. His second suitcase was filled, and now a third appeared.
"Maybe we can work this out."
"No, Keri."
"Where will you go?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"My brother said I could stay with him until I find something more permanent."
"It doesn't have to be like this," she pleaded, hoping to talk him out of it.
Michael stopped packing and sighed. "Keri, it's over. It was over when you found out about Meg. We tried to make it work, but you'll never forgive me and you'll never forget. Just let me get out of your life."
Keri looked at him and couldn't disagree with what he said. She hadn't forgiven him and she surely hadn't forgotten. Why else had she brought it up? It was still an open sore in her heart. People who cared about each other simply didn't do that, or did they? She tried to forgive him, tried with all her might to forget he screwed her best friend, her former best friend. Keri took a deep breath to keep her composure.
"Send me the money when you get paid," she said callously before she left the room. And Keri didn't bother to look up when he left for the last time.
* * * * *
The phone rang and Keri jumped out of her skin. It was after eight o'clock and she still hadn't turned on any lights. Depressed and lonely, she turned to a bottle of rum for her solace. She wasn't drunk, yet, but she was on her way. Keri clumsily put down the tumbler and wove her way to the phone, answering it on the fourth ring.
"Hello," she said tiredly.
"Hey, girl. What's up?"
"Nothing, Fran. What's up with you?" Keri hoped to finish the conversation quickly so she could get back to her bottle.
"You sound funny, Keri. Are you okay?"
There was silence on Keri's end. A sniffle. "Michael walked out on me," she said softly.
"Shit," Fran exclaimed, "but you can't say you didn't see it coming."
"I didn't."
"Oh, come on, Keri."
"I swear I didn't see it, Fran. I thought things were getting better."
"I'm sorry, Keri."
"Me too."
"What are you going to do?" Fran asked.
"Get drunk."
"That won't solve anything."
"I don't care." Thinking of her drink, Keri went back to her chair and took a swig, feeling the bitter warmth go down her throat. "Anyway, it's only for one night. I can get drunk one night, can't I?"
"I guess you can," Fran said. She felt sorry for her friend and couldn't tell her not to do it. When Keri found out about Michael and Meg, Fran was the first person she called. Over the past few months, Fran could see it in Keri's actions and demeanor that she hadn't forgiven Michael. She was surprised he didn't bug out sooner. "Well, besides getting drunk, what are your plans?"