Life On Another Planet Ch 06 09

Chapter 6 The Game Begins

Sunday, July 17, 2011 6:45am

Jesse was a creature of habit. It didn't matter whether it was a school day or not, he was awake and up at six in the morning and ready to start the day. It wasn't that he was especially enthused with going to school or work, but just that as a "morning person" he was at his most alert and active. Therefore, if he was going to use the exercise facility, early morning was the ideal time.

It didn't take him long to discover that Kirsten Gustafson was a morning person as well ... or so it seemed. She too was a creature of habit, usually appearing around six forty-five in the room if no hockey practice was scheduled. On weekdays, there were two or three other people in the room, usually there from forty minutes to an hour. The others were usually gone between seven and seven-thirty, likely to work. Jesse had time on his hands and stayed until he was either finished or too tired to continue.

Kirsten's workout was very aggressive and Jesse couldn't help but notice how much time she put into weight training. He was unfamiliar with women using weights and wondered if it was healthy. He tried to watch her without being obvious about it. She worked hard, both with weights and using the treadmill. There was a device that simulated climbing stairs and she spent some time on that as well. There was no question after having watched her that, despite her size, she was in amazing physical condition. Her body was statuesque.

While Jesse rode a stationary bike, Kirsten passed him on the way to another station. He took the opportunity to engage her.

"Good morning, Kirsten."

She looked briefly at him, nodded, and said, "Good morning, Jeremy."

"It's Jesse," he said with a hint of irritation. She didn't respond.

"Well, I guess I still haven't made much of an impression on her," he thought. However, they'd be seeing each other fairly often, so he was confident she'd get it right sooner or later.

Kirsten smiled secretly to herself. She enjoyed teasing this boy, but not too boldly. She didn't encourage unwanted advances, the teasing being more a way of putting him on the defensive. Jesse was quite good looking and so far he appeared to be polite. Nevertheless, a little fun with him was just a diversion - something to amuse herself.

~*~

As the days of July wore on, bits and pieces of Jesse Peterson's new life began to come together. The birth certificate was issued by the province, and that set in motion the paperwork needed to apply for a Social Insurance Card (Federal), Care Card (Provincial Ministry of Health), and ultimately, a driver's license (Provincial). Each step along the way brought Jesse closer to being acknowledged as a legal citizen of Canada and British Columbia. And as each of these steps fell into place, Jesse felt more and more like he might survive in this new world.

It took him a couple of weeks to realize Kirsten Gustafson was deliberately choosing to substitute other names for him. He began to address her as Miss Gustafson, hopefully hinting that two could play her harmless little game. She looked at him strangely the first time or two, then, unexpectedly, she used his proper name one morning, offering him a smile and a wink. It was big boost to his ego. A hot babe like Kirsten Gustafson now acknowledged him, and better yet, she appeared to have a sense of humour.

"I kept a count of how many times you did that, you know," he told her one morning.

"I am not surprised, but it did take you some time to catch on."

"I'm a little slow sometimes," he admitted.

"I am not so sure about that. You do not look anything like a dumb jock," she noted.

"That's a relief. However, your method was quite unique and it took me some time to realize your intent."

"Oh ... and just what did you assume my intent was?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"You're a tease," Jesse smiled, leaning back on the seat of his stationary bike. "You know you're very attractive and you like to make sure all the boys realize it. So ... you tease them. I'm just the latest in what I would guess is a long line of victims."

"Is that it?" she asked, her face now portraying irritation, if not anger. "You think I am just an empty-headed blonde who likes to tease boys?"

"I said nothing whatsoever to denigrate your intelligence, just your social attitude," he replied, a grin fixed firmly on his face.

"My social attitude? What does that mean?" she growled.

"How you like to appear to your peers and acquaintances," he said simply.

"You are very arrogant for someone who does not know a thing about me," she said, a scowl now fixed on her face. "And why do you use fancy language?"

"It's not arrogance. It's just an observation. I apologize if I've offended you. That wasn't my intention. Somehow we went from having a bit of innocent fun to ... this. Again, I apologize."

She appeared to be somewhat mollified by his apology and turned away, returning to her routine. Jesse, on the other hand, was upset with himself and his outspoken opinion of her. Every once in a while, his mouth ran away from his brain and got him into trouble. The very last thing he wanted to do was to upset Kirsten. He would spend a good part of the day mentally kicking himself for his stupidity.

Kirsten was intrigued by Jesse Peterson. He was interesting because he was different. He used big words, but they didn't seem contrived or designed to impress. They came naturally, she thought. She wondered how she could find out more about him before she realized there was a very simple way. She would ask Eve ... Doctor Mikeska.

Saturday, July 30, 2011 10am

"Hi, Kirsten. How are you today?" Eve asked as she entered the Gustafson's apartment.

"Fine, thank you. It is such beautiful weather that it is easy to be in a good mood," Kirsten said as she led the woman to their usual meeting place in the living room. The room was furnished in typical Scandinavian modern fashion with light birch or pine trim with comfortable chairs and cushions. The fabrics were all solid colour in subtle tones. Eve mentally referred to it as upscale Ikea.

"So, how has life been for you this past four weeks?" Eve asked as their monthly session began.

"Not very different," Kirsten said thoughtfully. "I am thinking about the hockey team again. I wonder if I am trying to make the team for the right reasons."

"Okay," Eve nodded. "We've talked about this before. Tell me what you are thinking."

"I have been wondering about that question you asked me some time ago. Am I doing this because I really want to play hockey, or ... am I doing this to satisfy someone else."

"Go on," Eve encouraged her.

"My father was a professional hockey player, but not just an ordinary player. He excelled ... won many awards. He played for the Swedish National Team in the Olympics and Internationally. He has been a star in the NHL. He made much money for doing that and retired a hero. Am I trying to be like him?"

"What do you think?" Eve asked. "At your age, you have to be set in your mind that it is something you truly want. To make the UBC team is just a first step. You are almost twenty years old, so you don't have a long time to prepare for it. You have to ask yourself if it's something that is incredibly important to you, or just something that would be nice to have."

"That is the question I am not able to answer," the girl said in frustration.

"Okay, well, let's not dwell on that. That's not really why we decided to have these talks, is it?"

"No ... it is not ... but it is bothering me," Kirsten admitted.

"What about the big thing that you're dealing with?"

Kirsten sighed. "I suppose it is getting easier to be around boys. I am still very nervous about this fall and university. There will be so many boys and men on that campus. I am not as frightened as I was, but I am going to be very careful.

"You were right about Jesse. He is okay. He is a little strange, but I do not feel frightened around him. I even teased him like you suggested and he was not upset. He teased me when he realized what I was doing to him. He did say some things he apologized for, but his words were not aggressive or mean."

"Okay, that's not unexpected. Jesse is still only eighteen, so I'm not surprised if his actions toward you seem odd. You're a very beautiful young woman and he's bound to be a little tongue-tied around you."

"Oh ... no ... he is not tongue-tied. I think he talks like an older person. He uses big words, but he knows what they mean. I suppose I do not understand him or know him very well."

Eve smiled. "Jesse has been encouraged to be a writer. His teachers felt he had the skill to be very good. He has a very large vocabulary for his age, and he knows how to use it. It sounds like he was trying to impress you. He doesn't use that technique around me. He's my patient too, so like you, I can't discuss his situation without his permission. However, I think he's a very upright and moral young man."

"Oh ... I suppose that explains it ... the language I mean," Kirsten said before pausing. "He is nice, otherwise. If you trust him, I can trust him too. But I do not think I am ready for a boyfriend."

"It will take time, Kirsten, but you can't rule out what tomorrow will bring. I will do everything I can to help you put what happened behind you, but you have to be willing to take some chances too. You have to learn to trust people and not feel threatened by them ... especially men. If they are too aggressive toward you, just walk away. You aren't obligated to be friendly to them, but you want to be reasonable and not overreact to someone genuinely trying to be friendly or helpful. It could be a store clerk, or a teacher, or a bus driver. You have to learn to separate honest courtesy from other motives."

"In my head, I know that," Kirsten admitted, "but I keep thinking about what happened to me when I was careless, and it still frightens me."

"Well, you know my recommendation is to team up with one or more friends and stay as a group. Don't be on your own if you can help it. You may be completely safe, but right now, you can't quite accept that. It will come with time."

"Thank you, Eve. You are a big help to me. I am glad you are my doctor. We can meet here in my own home ... just the two of us. I feel I can talk to you and not worry about anything."

"Yes, I'm not very fond of the hospital as a place to meet patients," Eve admitted. "Too many interruptions and distractions. I'll be glad when my residency requirements are over next year. I'll be able to set up my own practice in a comfortable place like this."

"I will see you just before Labour Day," Kirsten announced. "I should have made up my mind about hockey by then and have my books and class assignments for UBC. I am getting nervous just thinking about it."

Eve smiled at the young woman. "Try not to get too up tight about either problem, Kirsten. Talk to your mother and father about hockey. Talk to them about your worries about university. They'll understand ... I know they will. You are very lucky to have such supportive parents."

"Yes," Kirsten agreed absently, "Very lucky."

~*~

"Oh, you're home," Jesse said as he came into the apartment just before noon. "No patients today?"

"Just one," Eve smiled. "What have you been up to this morning?"

"Mica, Tony, and I went for a ride up Granville. Tony said he knew where there was a ball game being played. He was right. There was some kind of kids' tournament going on at Dunbar Park. I didn't realize they were such big baseball fans. They really want to play and I promised I would help them. We watched a couple of games and then came home since all three of us were getting hungry."

"Oh, that reminds me, I have a phone number for a fellow who plays baseball with the Kitsilano Blues. It's an informal league, but he told me they are always looking for new players. His name is Charles Castellano, but everyone calls him 'Chunky.' He's fourth year in pre-med and an avid ball player. As you can imagine, he's not tall and skinny," she chuckled.

"Oh, that's great," Jesse beamed. "Just watching those kids play this morning gave me the itch. It's probably too late for this summer, but at least I can make contact for next year."

"Here's Chunky's phone number," she said, passing him a slip of paper. "He lives with his aunt since her home is closer to UBC. I see him around the hospital regularly and I'll let him know to expect your call if you don't hear from him first."

"Great ... thanks, Eve."

"I'm glad to see you and Mica are getting along so much better now," she said.

"I think he just had to get used to the idea that I wasn't going to mess up his life too much. Actually, he asks me a lot of questions on all kinds of things about growing up. I've forgotten what being his age was like. I just remember that I made sure I didn't get in the way of any big kids' and get run over," he laughed.

"I think he's decided you might be 'big brother' material," Eve smiled warmly. "He needs that, Jesse. I'm glad he has a friend in Tony, but he needs someone to look up to. I've explained to him that you've lost your family and a lot of your memory. It will help you explain some of the gaps in your knowledge from before your 'event' happened."

"Is that what it's called - an event?"

"It's what I've chosen to call it. I can't think of anything else to name it. As a suggestion, if people ask about your parents, you might simply let them know that they are dead and, if they wish to probe further, just explain that it's a painful situation and you'd rather not discuss it. There's the issue of memory loss too. Can you live with that explanation?"

Jesse nodded. "I don't know what else I could say."

"Best to say nothing more than the absolute minimum ... for your own protection."

"Protection?"

"You don't want people getting too curious about you, do you? The less information they have, the less likely they'll get too nosy."

"I guess so. I hope I can pull it off," he said sourly. "When I think about it, it's a lousy way to live."

"I wish it wasn't necessary, Jesse, but you and I both know it is. Too many questions can lead to too many problems. Best to leave almost everything unexplained."

"I suppose," he sighed. It was getting to be on ongoing issue with him. Who was he and how was he going to integrate into modern society? He used to be Jesse Peterson, high school student and part time grocery clerk. He used to have parents and grandparents. He used to have friends ... even a girl friend. He used to borrow one of his parents' cars and drive around with his friends. He used to play baseball for his high school team. His life was simple then. Now it was complicated, and possibly would be forever.

Monday, August 1, 2011 7pm

Chunky Castellano was delighted to hear from Jesse. They were always looking for some extra players, especially competent infielders. Jesse, as it turned out, was exactly what they needed. Moreover, he could play almost any position other than pitcher or catcher. They arranged to meet at the Kitsilano ballpark on Monday evening and give Jesse a chance to meet the team and get some practice in. Their next game was Wednesday evening.

"Hi, Jesse, I'm Chunky Castellano. I'm the unofficial team manager and the official catcher. What do you know about our "beer league" teams?"

"Nothing at all. Fill me in."

"It's a bunch of semi-organized teams filled with guys who just like to play baseball. There are five other teams like us scattered around the lower mainland. My Aunt Wanda does the scheduling with the other teams, making sure we know who we're playing, where, and when. We usually try to schedule Wednesday nights and Saturday or Sunday afternoons. The team uniform is a ball cap and a t-shirt with our logo and name. The rest is up to you."

Jesse nodded, glad he'd purchased a pair of baseball pants for practice.

"There are a group of volunteer umpires that we use. We use two each game. They each get paid twenty-five a game, each team paying half. That works out to less than three bucks a game from each of us, so it's not too expensive. We collect twenty-five dollars at the beginning of each season for t-shirts and any other expenses like first aid. The local brewery supplies the ball caps and the baseballs. Otherwise, it's pretty cheap entertainment."

"Yeah ... no kidding. So, I owe you twenty-five plus the umpire fee if I play, right?"

"You got it," Chunky nodded. "Why don't you practice with us to make sure you want to join? This isn't an organized league and we get all kinds of talent mixed in the teams. You may decide this isn't competitive enough for you."

"Hell, I just want to play. I wasn't expecting it to be the Vancouver Mounties," he grinned.

"Who?" Chunky asked with a strange look.

"Oh ... sorry ... I was reverting back to the good old days when Vancouver had a triple A team," Jesse scrambled to explain.

"Oh ... well ... let's see how you fit in first. Why don't you slot into shortstop for now. Doug usually plays there, but he's filling in at third base since Phil is missing tonight."

Infield practice was pretty much as he remembered it from his high school days. A batter hit ground balls to various positions having called out what the situation with the opposition was. Jesse's glove was still stiff despite his working it steadily since he had purchased it, but it served him well. The pocket was deep and the fingers smooth, so taking the ball out of the glove in a hurry wasn't a problem.

They continued with infield practice for another twenty minutes before Chunky called a halt and brought the team together.

"We play the New West Luckies back-to-back on Wednesday here at seven, and Sunday at two o'clock at Queen's Park. Anybody unable to make it?"

There was no indication that anyone of the group couldn't be there.

"I want you guys to meet Jesse Peters, our newest member," Chunky said.

"That's Peterson, Chunky," Jesse corrected him politely.

"Sorry, Jesse. Jesse is a versatile player with a lot of infield experience, so we'll be able to use him in a variety of spots. Also, Wanda has been able to locate a used pitching machine at a reasonable price, so she's already ordered it. It's on her card, so don't worry about having to pay for it. It will be a real help for us getting used to fastball pitchers. Any other issues before we continue practice?"

There were none, so Chunky divided the team up into pitchers and volunteer catchers, plus some hitting practice. Jesse realized this was a bare-bones operation, but it was still baseball, and that's what was important to him. The rest of the practice continued for another half-hour before the group broke up and headed away.

"Thanks for the chance to join your team, Chunky. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome in more ways than one. I watched you during infield practice and you really have a nice glove hand and a good turn to whatever base you are throwing to."

"My coach in high school drilled us relentlessly on footwork and balance. At one point he claimed he was going to sign us up for ballet lessons, but that went nowhere," Jesse laughed.

"Yeah ... I'll bet. Anyway, you've got all the talent we need for this team and if you can hit a bit, that's a bonus. What did you hit in high school?"

"I was a .330 hitter my last year. I usually make good contact. I'm not much of a homerun hitter, but I can get the ball deep to the outfield," Jesse explained.

"That's plenty good enough for us. You won't run into many big hitters in this league. Even the ones who can hit it deep are often out of shape and can't make second or third base in time to beat most of our throws. You look like you're in pretty good condition. Do you work out?"