The English School 1 Caught Sneaking Out
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I had become pretty well-known at my ratty apartment building, being, by now, a half-baked celebrity in Baltimore. Oh, I was still a long way from famous. When we were on the road, I was just another black dude on the street.
But at home, I was getting recognized much more frequently.
This made it tougher than ever for Maria and me to maintain our relationship in secret. Finally I made an attempt to solve the problem by leasing a single-family house in the deep northern suburbs. The house wasn't anything particularly remarkable, but it was fully furnished and was situated on a huge plot of land, with no close neighbors and with trees all around.
It had a two-car garage with separate doors that operated by remote control. The first time I saw Maria, I presented her with her own key and a garage-door opener.
The rent was ridiculously high, but I thought it was money well spent if we could enjoy some privacy and have some hope of remaining undiscovered through the next several weeks.
I met Maria there late on Thursday night at the conclusion of the three-game series with New York. We'd managed only one win in three games, so the Yankees had left town still one game in front of us. Friday morning, we would fly to Tampa Bay for our final four-game set with the Devil Rays.
Baltimore had just lost five of six against our two strongest Division rivals, Boston and New York. Unless the Devil Rays would lay down and play dead for us, we were going to be in deep trouble in the second half of September.
Not for the first time, I voiced to Maria my misgivings about Paul's behavior in that first Yankee game.
"What do you suppose he was thinking?" I asked her. "He's always handled me as a spot specialist against lefties. Always! Now he leaves me in against this kid I'd never heard of -- a right-handed hitter -- in the opening game of a crucial series!"
"I seem to remember your grumbling from time to time about being used so infrequently," Maria said. "And you always thought you could get right-handers out, if only you were given a chance."
"That's true," I admitted. "I never particularly liked being jerked out of games so quickly. But I was just -- y'know -- happy to be here, and didn't really question it. Anyway, it was working! Paul seemed to be right, the way he was handling me."
"It's maybe one of those 'be careful what you ask for' situations," Maria said.
"Yeah. But I just don't understand it. On the one hand, I was happy -- at the time -- to be allowed to stay in. Sure, I was surprised, but -- happy. On the other hand, I still don't get why Paul did it. I just hope it didn't have something to do with you and me. --Maybe, unconsciously, Paul took our relationship into account."
"Can't see it," Maria said.
"How do you mean?"
"We both know that, for Paul, the team comes first. He's not going to be deterred by personal considerations. He's going to do whatever he can to assure that the Orioles win. I can't believe, even for a minute, that he took anything else into account."
"Maybe I ought to ask him."
"It might not be something he'll be able to articulate. Even a by-the-book manager like Paul will play a hunch once in awhile," she said.
"You don't think I ought to ask him?"
"What do you say to him, exactly? --'Jeez, Paul, what were you thinking, there, leaving me in to face a fearsome Yankee rookie rightie?'"
"Yeah, you're right. If I ask, it'll sound like I'm trying to put the blame on Paul for my own failure."
"Let it go," Maria advised. "If he does more stuff that, to you, seems peculiar, you could maybe talk to Arlie Stone about it, see what he thinks."
"Good advice. You're right."
"I'm really glad you got this house!" Maria said. "It's way better than your old place, and it's nice to drive down that long driveway, press the garage-door button, and, bingo -- instant privacy!"
"If a person spent a little money, this could be a really nice house, too," I said. "Might be a nice place to live, even after we come out of the closet."
"Is it for sale?"
"It's not on the market, no -- but I think it might be available, if I asked. The agent said the owner didn't expect to return to Baltimore to live."
"The rent you're paying, it might be the owner's major source of income!" she said.
I laughed. The rental rate was, indeed, outrageous.
"How are you feeling these days about -- us?" I asked Maria.
"I'm feeling great! Why do you ask?"
"Well. I mean, before, we were sneaking around, hiding from Paul. I thought maybe that made it, y'know, more exciting for you -- gave being with me a little extra Forbidden Fruit quality."
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