A day in the park.

[Namira]

The park.
On any given day, you could find Ric Chee there, practicing his baseball or just relaxing in general. In fact, you could stake your life on it and the risk would be virtually nonexistent.
Ric could be summed up in just two words: baseball freak.
It wasn't that Ric thought baseball was everything, for him, it was the only thing. Not a free afternoon passed without Ric heading straight down to his favourite park and playing baseball; looking to cement his reputation as the best pitcher who ever played there.
If you were totally honest and unbiased, you might observe that Ric was one of the best two pitchers who ever played there. Not that Ric would admit that "Lucky" O'Cann, that Irish jerk was anywhere close to his own league, not in a million years.


Ric came away from his brief tenure at bat swearing under his breath. Ric had thrown the bat to the ground in disgust when O'Cann got a strikeout on him with contemptuous ease. The son of a bitch shot Ric a cocky smile as Ric stomped off to sit beneath a tree, and Ric swore at him again. O'Cann, reading Ric's lips, simply laughed and turned away, aggravating Ric even more.
The kid was eleven for god's sake! By what earthly right could he be so good and so full of himself?
They had known each other for about a month, and Ric; whilst finding O'Cann tolerable away from games, simply could not stand him when they were playing baseball. O'Cann off the field was shy, mild mannered and quiet, almost impossible to find argument with. On the field he was a mouthy, arrogant little fuck, who, at times, Ric had seriously considered beating the holy hell out of.
Then again, that just wasn't Ric's style. The idea of actually physically hurting somebody repulsed him, and he hadn't been in a serious fight for five years.


Moodily slouching in the shade underneath the tree, Ric watched angrily as O'Cann continued to dominate play, which did precisely nothing to aid his mood.
Something else that did nothing to help Ric's seething rage was the arrival of Tyson Neills. In some ways, Neills was even worse than O'Cann. Ric gathered that they were childhood buddies, and the Spaniard wondered whether it was their time together as younger kids that made them both so irritating.
Neills had a huge plethora of random, stupid, and downright weird jokes, none of which made any sense or were in fact funny. Not only this, but Neills had an uncanny knack for needling people and sensing just what comment would annoy them the most, and he almost never missed a chance to make one.


"And now, stepping up to make his pitch, world-class athlete SEAN O'CANN!"
Ric responded to Neills' words with a glare, and the little guy gave him an innocent look, as if he hadn't even known what effect his words would have.
"Indeed O'Cann is the greatest pitcher the world has ever seen, surpassing such meagre talents as Ricardo Chee and..."
"Don't you ever shut up?" snarled Ric, starting towards Neills and causing the other to dart away with a foolish laugh.
Ric made a wordless sound of frustration as Neills once again slipped away from him. One of these days somebody was going to kill that kid out of sheer irritation. Who knew? It could be Ric himself.


Ric sighed and settled back down; pointedly avoiding looking in the direction of the baseball game, though he could still hear the shouts.
Ric leant against the tree and closed his eyes, concocting numerous imaginary (and horrible) repercussions and punishments for O'Cann and his diminutive lackey. After considering one particularly disgusting, not to mention anatomically impossible fate, Ric's mood slowly began to brighten. As with many teenagers of Ric's age, he was prone to rapid changes of temper. Ric had once soared from utter depression to laughing happiness to surly irritation in the space of five minutes, and such mood swings were not altogether uncommon in the fifteen-year-old Spaniard.


Ric was comfortably dozing some ten minutes later when he was awoken by a tap on the shoulder and somebody calling his name softly. Ric groaned, his rest had been pleasant, and he really didn't want it interrupted. Sleeping had always made Ric feel better, and today was no exception.
Nevertheless the voice grew more insistent and Ric reluctantly opened his eyes to the surprise of seeing a very beautiful girl kneeling in front of him. Ric winced as he woke; a tree root must have been digging into his back, but he quickly switched the look with a smile in case the girl thought he was directing the grimace at her.
"You're Ric Chee then?" she asked him, her head tilted to one side in an inquiring glance that Ric found absolutely adorable. Ric managed to find his tongue.
"Uh, yeah, that's me. But how do you know that?" the girl, who Ric judged to be around two years younger than him, gave him a dazzling smile.
"A couple of the boys wanted me to ask you to come pitch, they think you're the best bet your team has." She smiled again. "And I agree with them, so get out there and get a couple of strikeouts for me!" She turned away and headed back to the game, as she walked she looked over her shoulder. "My name's Kara, maybe we can get to know each other a little better later,"
Ric was stunned, he had never seen a girl so pretty or so confident in herself, Kara was definitely an interesting prospect and despite her relatively young age Ric wondered if "get to know each other a little better," was an entirely innocent comment.


Ric had to admit, it was primarily because Kara had asked him that he even bothered to get back up and return to that game. Some of Ric's team mates obviously knew Ric better than he knew himself, as the Spaniard hadn't known he was a sucker for a pretty face up until now.
It was with a degree of reluctance that Ric stepped up to make his pitch, but once he saw who it was that was at bat, every semblance of that disappeared.
Sean O'Cann was batting, and here was Ric's chance to humiliate the Irishman as he had humiliated Ric.
The first, lightning-fast pitch was past O'Cann before he could even blink, and Ric smiled even as O'Cann gritted his teeth in frustration.
Ric took the second pitch almost as soon as the baseball was returned to him, and this too whipped straight into the stopper's glove.
Ric was smiling grimly as the ball was given to him for the third time. This was a great opportunity to put O'Cann's foolish pride to bed, to prove that anything O'Cann could do, Ric could damn well do better.
So focused was Ric on his pitch that he didn't notice Neills sidle up next to him before it was too late. As he took his pitch, Ric suddenly tripped, the ball flying wayward. Ric sprawled but was up again in moments.
He rounded on Neills.
"What the hell was that you jackass!? You tripped me!" but Neills didn't respond, and Ric saw that the younger boy's gaze was fixed on something behind Ric.
The Spaniard turned and saw the results of Neills' actions with utmost horror.

O'Cann was down and screaming incoherently, blood spurting between his hands as they were held clutched to his face. People were yelling at Neills, some at Ric, others were clustered around O'Cann himself.
Ric was dismayed at what his pitch had done to O'Cann, enemy or no, arrogant or not, nobody deserved a fastball directly in the face.
Ric ran straight to O'Cann as he lay downed.
"Sean! Sean! Are you all right man? I'm sorry but..." Ric had no time to say anything else as O'Cann jumped up with fire in his eyes and his baseball bat in his hands.
As O'Cann swung the baseball bat with all the power he could muster, Ric had only two thoughts.
One was;
"What the hell!?"
The other;
"This is going to hurt,"
With dull predictability, Ric was proved painfully right.