Him Who Strengthens Me

By Joseph Emerson

Political decisions have consequences and the consequences of Virginia Governor Richard Baine's slashing funding for his state's colleges and universities has forced Donald Ross to think about life other than being a student-athlete. However, using his prowess and ingenuity, Donnie finds a way to play baseball with other student-athletes in a summer wooden bat league. As the season progresses, the decisions of each character during that tumultuous summer force their families and friends to deal with deep psychological wounds necessary for everyone's healing to commence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781543969702

Book preview

For my Family and Cherished Friends

Copyright © 2019 by Joseph Todd Emerson

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. 

[Scripture quotations are] from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright © 1946, 1952, and 1971 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9781543969702

Other Books by Joseph Todd Emerson

Donald’s Cross

The Lions’ Dens

I can do all things through him who strengthens me. – Philippians 4:13

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Author’s Note

Bonus Feature: Hat’s Off To You

Author's Note

HAT’S OFF TO YOU

Chapter One

There’s something special about a baseball field in the early morning. If you play ball, then you know what I’m talking about. If you don’t play ball, then you’re missing out on one of mankind’s greatest achievements. Let me try to describe it for you. First, there’s the aroma of the morning air, heated only by the sun beaming onto the manicured and dewy grass. Then, there’s the smell of the dirt. Yes, the dirt! Who knew that baseball diamond dirt could perfume the air so…so…majestically. Sometimes, when Dad’s reciting the last part of the Twenty-Third Psalm, when the writer says, Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I well dwell in the house of the Lord forever, I get the feeling that God’s house has to be a ballpark. I’m telling you, there really is nothing like it. If a candle company ever wanted to make a product for us guys, they could make a small fortune selling, Baseball Field.

I’m playing ball again. It was strange how all those dominoes toppled. It started when I began therapy on the shoulder that Daniel almost crushed trying to save my life after Quinton Foster’s lunatic father went on a rampage at the protest Dad organized at the State Capital a few months ago. I decided one afternoon to get on the athletic department’s rowing machine for a little physical therapy and was addicted. Sometimes, Aliceanna would join me after class. Eventually, I got to the point where I was pretty decent.

So good, in fact, that I was asked by the administration to represent Baynham State as part of our eight man crew in the traditional Race down the Zenubia regatta with Western, State, Howerton, and Tech the weekend before final exams.

I had never raced in my entire life. Due to my busy schedule of classes, therapy, spending time with Aliceanna, and just trying to keep my head afloat in my Political Psychology classes, I really didn’t get that much chance to spend any time on the water. Truth be told, I was kind of glad. The Zenubia River does have the tendency to become quite rapid. So, when race day came, that actually was the first time that I sat with the other members of the crew for any extended period of time.

In researching the history of the regatta, I found out that for the past three years Baynham came in second place, losing each race after an impressive start. Apparently, last year we were leading up until the last ten yards, when we just lost steam, and allowed Tech to beat us.

You couldn’t have asked for a better morning the day of the big race. Mom, Dad, and Luke met Aliceanna and me for breakfast at the Student Union. Alden, inebriated from spending his last Friday on campus partying with his lacrosse buddies, managed to arrive decked in this crazy seersucker suit and straw hat.

The eight of us hopped into our hull, which we had already christened Valiant’s Revenge, at the starting line. I was in the fifth seat, right behind senior Adam Boughton. I took a deep breath and scanned the banks for my family. It was kind of difficult with the throng of people milling around, hooting and hollering for their particular skull. I never found my parents or Luke; however, I eventually saw Aliceanna’s smiling face right before the Howerton eight took their place next to us blocking my view. She was standing beside her brother wearing a beautiful summer dress. I gave her a wink and a confident grin.

I didn’t even know he was interested in rowing, Dad said, walking up to Aliceanna and Alden.

Aliceanna placed an errant strand behind her, and replied, The Athletic Director asked if he’d be interested after watching him row one afternoon. It’s a real honor."

How will we know when the race starts? Luke asked.

BANG!

That’s how, dumbass, Alden answered, slapping the back of my brother’s head, as he started running with the rest of the crowd along the bank.

The starting pistol took us by surprise, which allowed Howerton and Eastern to get a three-yard jump start. Eventually, we pulled into a three-way tie for first, with Tech’s crew trailing. I rowed and rowed; exerting every bit of energy I had in making sure, that at a minimum, we wouldn’t embarrass ourselves. Five minutes into the race, I was already drenched with sweat, but at the quarter marker is when the sweat really began stinging my eyes. I tried blocking all the noise from the crowd and focusing on the coxswain’s verbal orders, pulling my oars on her command.

I began to feel the burn just after we passed the halfway flag. Howerton and Eastern were still tied and looked like they would maintain their neck-and-neck pacing. We were third, but Tech was inching closer and closer.

Still, in spite of my temporary blindness, the heat, the now mind-numbing fire coursing through every muscle in my body, I found that we were slowly making progress. At the three-quarter mark, it was still Howerton and Eastern. However, we found ourselves inching closer and closer into first place.

Stroke! Stroke! Stroke! the coxswain commanded.

With every muscle in my body feeling like it was on fire, I pulled those oars with all my might. All that hard work started paying off. As our boat began to make the final turn around the bend and headed toward the finish line, the Eastern crew miscalculated their position, and ran, head-on into Howerton’s skull, giving us the clear edge for the first time all afternoon.

You could hear the air drop from the Howerton and Eastern fans’ lungs. On the other hand, I could hear my family scream over everyone in the crowd.

Com’n Donnie! Alden yelled. Pull! Pull! Pull!

Com’n, Donnie! Aliceanna echoed.

Easy for them to say.

In the end, we won the regatta by a whisker. Throngs of people greeted us when we made our way back to the pier. Aliceanna was the first to greet me, followed by her brother. Somewhere, over all the noise, I heard my mother shouting and crying tears of joy. Luke interrupted Aliceanna’s kiss with a high five. Jocelyn Graham, the university’s president, sauntered up with a huge grin and beaming eyes. She hugged us, not caring that her designer summer suit was now drenched in salt water and testosterone-induced sweat.

That evening when we got back to our hotel rooms somebody had already placed on our beds special tuxedos…you know, the ones with white ties and all the fancy get-up. The crews from all five schools were treated to a nice, fancy dinner at the marina. Everyone had to wear suit and tie. Luke didn’t like it, but after Alden told him that girls like guys who look like they stepped out of GQ, my brother quickly changed his mind. The eight of us from Baynham were treated like royalty. We had special seats up on the dais.

The president of Howerton University, a regal gentleman with a shock of silver hair, greeted us with a firm handshake and nice smile. Young man, he said, pulling me aside, I know who you are. You’re Donald Ross, correct?

I nodded.

He cupped his hand on my shoulder and led me over to a private, dimly-lit corner. I owe you a profound sense of gratitude.

I furrowed my brows. I beg your pardon?

He led me even closer toward the corner. For what you did.

Now I became intrigued. Um, Sir, I began, you do realize that it was my team that won the regatta this afternoon?

Howerton’s president laughed. Not for that…for helping to publicize Governor Baine’s ridiculous plan to privatize the state’s colleges.

I glanced behind his shoulder and saw Aliceanna walking in with her family. Alden was wearing his really good suit, while AA took my breath away with her stunning evening gown. A ravenous smile emerged across my face. I caught her eye and gave her a rather sly, seductive wink. My thoughts were interrupted with the university president repeating my name. Mr. Ross? Mr. Ross?

I’m sorry, I said apologetically. My girlfriend just walked in.

Howerton’s president turned forward and smiled. You’re dating Gordon Dodge’s daughter?

I nodded.

Well then, I won’t keep you any longer than necessary. I nodded, hoping to expedite this unforeseen meeting. Mr. Ross, I want to give you a small token of appreciation. I understand you play baseball?

I nodded.

Dr. Graham tells me you’re quite good.

Again, I nodded. Only this time I added, With all due respect she cut the team due to funding last October due to those budget cuts you just mentioned.

He waved me off. I understand you’ve also been trying to find a collegiate wooden bat league team to play for this summer. Is this true?

I gulped and nodded. Yes sir. The distinguished gentleman leaned into me and placed a folded napkin in the interior pocket of my tuxedo jacket. What was that? I asked, placing my palm over my lapel.

The university professor smiled. An opportunity, should you decide to take it.

To do what?

Why to play baseball, of course, he said.

I removed the folded napkin. Scribbled in blue ink was a name and phone number. I furrowed my brows, and asked, Who’s Mowe Sheffield?

A Howerton graduate, the president said. He’s the head coach of the Duttonville Greyhounds. He’s anticipating that one of his players is going to sign a professional contract in a couple of weeks. As a result, he’ll have an open spot. At my personal request, he’s agreed to watch you take batting practice and do some infield-outfield work. There’s no promise beyond that, but it’s something.

I glanced at president’s chicken-scratch. Tears began to well in my eyes. Thank you, Sir. I’m honored.

The president patted me on the shoulder. As he walked away, he stopped mid-step, turned, and said, Don’t dally on this. He needs to know what you’re going to do before the end of next week.

Terrific, I whispered, as my stress level shot through the roof. Exams, packing up the dorm, and now the possibility of playing summer ball, that’s a lot for anyone to have on a short plate. I tried not letting him see my anxiety begin to flush. Instead, I flashed a confident smile, and thanked him.

Dinner was a smothered pork chop, and not just any pork chop. It was the best chop I’ve ever had. Tender, succulent, and cooked to absolute perfection. Even with the fantastic dinner, my mind started racing, trying to figure out how I was supposed to do all that was expected of me. In spite of my best intentions, my wonderings became so noticeable to the people I loved that Alden walked up to the head table and asked if I needed to see a paramedic.

Nope, I answered. Why would I?

Everyone at our table has noticed your silence. And besides, you have that look again.

Everything’s fine and I don’t have a look!

Um hum, he answered, walking away.

After dinner everyone was asked to leave the dining hall except for my crewmates and our families. When it was just us, we were ordered by the regatta’s organizers to gather our personal items and told to meet some very special people on the pier. As we walked down the path leading to the river, the Baynham fight song could be heard playing over the loudspeakers. When we arrived to the docks, we noticed Valliant’s Revenge suspended in the air by a harness behind the presidents of all the schools that competed that morning. All of them were holding torches, some in both hands. As my teammates and I sauntered down the planks, we were handed a torch and told to stand and wait. To do what? I asked Jessica Parks, the coxswain.

We have to set the boat aflame, she said. There was a reverence in her voice.

What? Why? I asked, glancing at Valiant’s Revenge.

"It’s tradition. Because we won, no one gets to race Valiant’s Revenge again." I stared into the flaming end of the torch. The heat was almost unbearable, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

When the fight song ended, Dr. Graham nodded, and, on cue, we threw our lighted torches onto our boat, creating a huge pyre in the night sky. I don’t know if it was the heat from the boat’s pyre or the emotion of finally having a win under my belt, but whatever it was it caused me to burst into tears. When I finally gave myself permission to look up, all that remained of Valiant’s Revenge was a crumbling skeleton of ashes.

Mom and Dad came over, but I waved them off and sent them to back to the hotel. I sat on the edge of the pier, the ripples of the river crashing into the pylons, and watched the smoldering remains of the boat float down the river. Penny for your thoughts, Alden said, parking himself next to me.

Who sent you? I asked. My parents or your sister?

Both, he answered, handing the flask he hid from the inside of his tux.

I pulled a swig of the Makers Mark. The warmth of the alcohol burned going down. I’ve got some serious thinking to do.

About what? He asked, prying the flask from my hands. He took his own swig and wiped the excess with back of his hand, before handing it back to me.

I pulled another turn. It burned to where I heaved a heavy cough. I have an opportunity to play competitive ball this summer. I handed the flask back.

He took a longer draw from the flask. With who? He asked, handing the flask back.

I waved the offer off. Summer wooden bat league.

Alden’s eyes lit. Wow, that’s great news! He took a softer draw from his flask. When’d you find out?

When the smoky remains of the boat finally drifted out of sight I answered, Tonight…just before dinner. Howerton’s president told me.

My roommate slapped me on the back. That’s awesome! See, it’s like I told you back in January…these college presidents owe you. He handed the flask back, and I graciously declined. So who else knows?

Just you, I said, asking for the flask. I poured what remained of the liquor into the river and handed the now emptied flask back to my friend and roommate. "But before you get any ideas, it’s just a tryout. There’s only one spot and like five or six guys, I’m sure from much larger schools are vying for it.

Alden dropped the empty flask in his tux jacket, and pulled another, albeit smaller one from his front pocket. He drew a gulp, handed it to me, and then said, When you going to break the news?"

I peered into the flask and allowed the last of the alcohol to drip into my mouth. This time it didn’t burn. Better watch it, there, he said. You don’t want to turn into…

You? I finished.

Cocksucker, he mumbled.

Asshole, I intoned.

He smiled, and jabbed me in the ribs. So, answer my question? When will you break the good news?

I shrugged my shoulders. It’ll have to be real soon. I owe it to my folks to let them know if I’m going to be home for the summer.

I peered over the swinging legs, and started into our moonlit reflections peering back at the two of us. The waves distorted our images. I leaned forward and, without warning, emptied the contents of my stomach into the Zenubia.

Com’n Babe Ruth, Alden said, helping me up. After giving me his pocket square to wipe my mouth, he said, Let’s get you back to the hotel before whatever you have remaining of your not so sweet innocence is corrupted any further.

Alden’s bootleg libations worked as I was out as soon as he threw me onto my bed. The next morning, I treated myself to an extra hour of sleep before joining my family for an early brunch. When I sauntered into the hotel restaurant, Mom, Dad, and Luke were already perusing their menus. I pulled up a chair and sat in the empty space between my mother and brother. Well good morning, sleepyhead, Mom said.

I took a sip of water, and kissed her cheek. Thanks, I said, more than hung-over and really hoping an aspirin omelet was on the menu.

We got worried when you didn’t answer your phone, Dad said. There was a genuine look of concern on his face.

I must have turned it off, I said, pulling it from one of the side pockets in my cargo shorts. Relieved that it wasn’t lost, I checked my missed calls. There were a couple from Aliceanna, and sure enough, five from my parents. I’m sorry, I intoned. It was a late night.

I can tell, Dad said, folding his menu.

Yeah…I’m sorry ‘bout that, too, I said, also folding my menu.

Our omelets came a few minutes later. So, are you ready for finals? Mom asked.

I spread a thin schmere of mustard on mine. Just about, I answered, cutting one of the ends off with the end of my fork. I glanced over and noticed where Luke was in the process of inhaling his. I shook my head, and continued eating.

Is there any particular one that you’re worried about? Dad asked.

I took a sip of the tomato juice the waitress placed in front of me. Quantitative Research Methods, I answered. I don’t completely understand it.

Then whyja take it? Luke asked, finishing off the last end of his breakfast.

It’s required, I said. I could tell something was up when I saw my parents steal a glance in each other’s direction. Finally, I said, What?

Nothing, Dad answered.

Look, I’m sorry for being late, and coming down with a …

Mom gave me a slight kick and glared at my younger brother. What? Luke said. You didn’t want me to know that Donnie has a hangover? Please…I’ve seen worse.

Where’s that? Mom asked.

Don’t worry about that, Dad said. He glanced in my direction and asked, When were you going to tell us about last night?

My brows slightly furrowed and I lifted my palms as if I was surrendering. Um, boundaries Dad, boundaries. Not everything I do in my private life is up for public discussion.

The waiter came with the bill. Dad took a quick glace and plopped down his credit card. He leaned over the table and asked, When were you going to tell us about playing ball this summer?

"How’d you find out about that?

Dr. Graham told us about fifteen minutes before you came down, Mom answered.

I pushed my plate aside before saying, To be honest, I didn’t want to say anything before I even agreed to try out. Besides, it’s a longshot that I’ll even make the team.

What about the agreement we made when you came home for Spring Break?

I remember…summer classes or a job, right? I said. Mom and Dad didn’t need to say anything. Their nods gave their answers away. Yeah, I remember fully. That’s part of the reason why I hadn’t said anything yet.

So, what are you going to do? Luke asked.

Many summer league teams set up part time jobs. Some players even take online classes. So, like everything else that’s happened to me since high school, I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I get to it.

Mom and Dad gave another glance, this time much more cautious. Finally, Dad said, Well, whatever you decide, just give it your best shot.

So, I have your blessing if I decide to do this?

Mom leaned over and covered my hand with hers. Donnie, she said, No matter what you do, you will always have our blessing in what makes you happy.

Chapter Two

The day before Mother’s Day and most of the state’s college students’ thoughts are turning towards the various commencement ceremonies being conducted this morning. Or, like my fellow underclassmen, just getting ready to start a well-deserved summer break. But not Baynham students. We graduate, and vacate, the weekend after Mother’s Day. Normally, I’d be the first in line to complain; however, today’s the day of my tryout with the Duttonsburg Greyhounds. Thankfully, that Monday was already designated as a reading day. So, that