Austin was up at the crack of dawn and, as he promised he would, he
called home. The phone had barely finished its first ring when his
father picked up. Austin smiled, knowing his father was hanging by the
phone waiting for his call.

They talked only briefly, about yesterday’s drive and the rest of the
way to Florida. Austin’s folks were heading to his Aunt Barbara’s for
the day, and were excited. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, and
Austin’s Uncle Len was a laugh riot. He and Philip could break up a
room for hours together.

Austin pulled off to grab a salt bagel with cream cheese and some
coffee, and was on the road. It was peaceful, a bright orange sun low
in the sky, few others on the road. He turned the radio on briefly,
then turned it back off. He was enjoying the silence. For the first
time in weeks he felt relaxed and at ease, despite the challenge ahead
of him.

His drive had been uneventful as of shortly after noon, when he
realized he had to stop for gas. He had just entered Georgia, and the
Great White Hope needed a refill. At the state’s second exit, Austin
saw smoke. Figuring following its trail would lead him to something
resembling civilization, he pulled off the Interstate and down the ramp.

The road was fields on both sides. Before long, the pavement ended, and
the Galaxie was kicking up gravel and rocks beneath its tires, dirt
looking like smoke behind it’s heavy frame as the true smoke from ahead
drew closer.

Sure enough, the smoke led to a gas station. Only, the station wasn’t
the cause of the smoke. As Austin neared, a crowd of about a dozen
stood in the middle of the road, hooting and hollering, flames visible
between them and through their legs. They were circling a fire on its
last legs.

Austin pulled into the gas station, a one-pump white-shingled setup.
The Galaxie came to a rest with a crumble of Earth beneath it. In
desperate need of a piss, Austin was soon out of the car and walking
toward the restroom on the building’s side when he noticed through an
opening in the crowd what was being burned: American flags.

He hurried into the bathroom, shaking his head at what he’d just seen. Why he thought to himself. For what purpose.

He stood at the urinal, half full with ice, feeling better by the
second. There are few times a man is more relaxed than when he’s
relieving himself. And as such, what occurs around him at that time is
crystal clear.

The crowd was getting closer, their calls of “No War” and “Peace Now”
loud but hollow, at least to Austin, who recalled it was these similar
sorts who damn near killed him at the military recruitment center weeks
ago.

Then, suddenly, the noise stopped.

Austin zipped up and made his way to the door. A step outside put him
square in the firing line of eyes of the now silent crowd, a circle
around the Galaxie, smoke from the ashen pile in the middle of the road
wafting over them.

“A Yankee, huh?” one of the crowd slowly spit out. “Now what the hell brings you into these parts.”

Austin knew what brought him there. What he didn’t know was what would get him out.

He crossed the North Carolina border at about midnight and stopped at
the first hotel he found. He had considered sleeping in the Galaxie,
which was certainly big enough, but decided he’d use some of the overly
generous contribution from his folks to get himself a good night’s rest.

He called home from the room as he promised he would. His mother answered a blend of excitement and exhaustion.

“You made it down ok?” she asked.

“Yup. The snow made it tough until South Jersey, but then it cleared up. Aside from D.C., I breezed the rest of the way.”

“Joseph and Kara made it home fine,” his mother replied. “They called a few hours ago. He is so proud of you, Austin.”

“I know,” Austin replied. “And I’m proud of him. I hope he knows that. Successful, getting married. He’s doing so well.”

“Your father heard you two on the couch the other night,” his mother said.

Austin laughed for no particular reason. “He didn’t need to apologize
to me for how he felt. Hell, I feel guilty for getting this chance that
he never got. So much of my playing was from idolizing him.”

Austin thanked his mom for the money. “You and Dad didn’t have to do that,” he said softly.

“We know. And we wouldn’t if we couldn’t,” she said, an obvious lie
Austin was not about to call her on. “Let me wake your father.”

“No, mom, it’s OK,” Austin said. “If he’s sleeping, let him sleep.”

“He’ll be livid if I don’t get him up to talk to you,” she said.

Austin was quiet.

“What’s wrong, Austin?” she asked.

“Being away is going to be hard,” he replied. “You and dad, my friends. I have no ties where I’m going.”

“You’ll be making new ones,” his mother said encouragingly. “Your
teammates…you’ll be a ballplayer…girls will fall all over you.”

“Girls…” Austin said, trailing off into a pause.

“You didn’t say goodbye did you,” she said knowingly.

Austin smiled across the line, his mother could still read him like a book.

“How could I? I’m the one who cut the tie.”

“You felt like you needed to.”

“I don’t know what I thought. All I know is this won’t be high school. You and dad won’t be there to watch me.’

“And neither will she, right.”

“Just saw someone who reminded me of her today, reminded me how I
acted.” Austin shook his head at the thought. “And it reminded me how
immature I still am in so many ways.”

“Oh hush,” his mother said. “If we measured maturity by the handling of
matters of the heart everyone would be immature. If this is about your
father and I, we’re here. If this is about Angie, call her and tell her
how you feel. But if this is about you, then you need to believe in
yourself and in what got you where you are. And whether me, your
father, Joseph or Angie say ‘we believe in you’ a million times doesn’t
mean anything if YOU don’t believe in you.”

Austin sighed deeply. “I’m just a bit scared.”

“Good,” she said. “Then you’re just a lot human.”

“I need to sleep. I’m gonna make it the rest of the way tomorrow. I’ll call to check in with dad before I leave.”

“We love you, A.J.,” his mother said sweetly.

“I love you too, Mom. And thanks.”

As he hung up he thought of how his mother was never jealous of his
bond with his father. She encouraged it, and she never felt slighted.
She just said the right things, did the right things, all the time,
every time. She knew him better than he knew himself, a cliche to end
all cliches but completely fitting.

She was simply amazing. And, as usual, she was right. This wasn’t about
his parents, it wasn’t about Angie. It was about him. But Austin was
always great at clearing up other people’s problems, giving them
advice. He could analyze an external situation to its core and map the
path to clarity.

Right now, the only map he had was to Florida. And that would have to do.

It had been a slow go down I-95, with the snow slowing everything by 20
miles and hour at least. Austin had found some good radio on the way
down and was enjoying some Beatles, Stones and Zeppelin as he surveyed
his surroundings with caution, never knowing what fools would be
reckless in the poor conditions.

He felt strange, almost guilty, that he was so excited to be out on his
own. His parents would be alone in the house for the first time in more
than 20 years. That would probably take some getting used to. Or they
might celebrate…and, after imagining how they might do that, Austin
changed mental tracks.

He drove by the Traxlers’ house when he left home. He wanted to pull
Michael outside and lay into him for what he said to Austin that day,
and to defend his father’s honor as well. He circled the block three
times, and ultimately decided to bypass the confrontation. His leaving
was about exactly this, moving on. His father didn’t need his
protection, and deep down he understood where Traxler’s rage was coming
from. And that being the case, there was nothing else to say.

In South Jersey, Austin pulled off for a rest stop. He relieved himself
and went to grab a burger and Coke. He felt like he was starving, a pit
in his stomach he wasn’t sure was from hunger or nerves. He looked
around, people watching as he often did. On the line next to him was a
girl: athletic, attractive with a patch of freckles across her nose and
under her eyes. He had no intention of approaching her, but she
reminded him that in his haste to leave he never said goodbye. And
Angie deserved that much.

Like so many teen relationships, there were big problems tied to small
things, miscommunications run amok and a failure to deal with things in
a meaningul, honest way. But at the heart of it all, Angie was a
wonderful girl who Austin loved…truly loved. And that scared him. And
he knew it.

He was running around all summer chasing this dream, and all Angie
wanted was to be with him. All the time. When he was gone, he missed
her terribly. But when he was home, he felt he needed to work at his
craft, and she came second…a distant second.

It was easier to cut ties than to try and work through it. He wouldn’t
let her work through it with him, wouldn’t let her understand, because
he wouldn’t talk about it…couldn’t talk about it without guilt
overcoming him. He loved her and he put her second all the time,
because he felt he had to. She deserved better than that, and rather
than telling her this was how he felt and letting her decide what she
wanted, he ended it.

When he’d lay awake at night thinking about his future…the chaos over
the draft lottery, the saga with the Mets, where he’d end up…thoughts
of Angie would intermittently splice into his consciousness.

She deserved better. And, with him leaving, she sure as hell deserved goodbye.

On the third “Can I help you,” Austin snapped to attention and placed
his order. The girl next to him grinned, thinking she was the object of
his thoughts, or thoughtlessness, at the moment. She wasn’t…she just
directed his head to Angie.

Order in hand, Austin headed back to the car. He pulled to a section
where the gas pumps were to fill the tank. He reached into the glove
box and grabbed the envelope his father had left for him.

$500

Austin stared at the cash, sticking out wrapped in a single sheet of tablet paper.

We love you, Dukes

Reading that rather than hearing it made Austin realize, for the first
time, just how far from home he was heading. And on the heels of his
thoughts about Angie, love…any kind of love…suddenly felt very far
away.