Issue 16: August 15, 2020
“On top of everything else, she broke her glasses,” the nurse told him with a bored sigh. “The new ones won’t be ready for two weeks.”
“Give me her prescription. I can get them in one day at the clinic in Pankow. Any style.”
The nurse was unimpressed and said nothing. Paul followed her down the high-ceilinged, tiled corridor. Her flowing white coat brushed the dusty aspidistras lining the dim hall in squat iron pots.
Benny, who wouldn’t turn twenty-two for another six weeks, had been throwing hard for two innings and the pain in his right shoulder was scaling up. He was sweating, lightheaded. For most of May, the pain had been getting worse and he worried now that each pitch would be his last. Before starting the top of the third, he called time and motioned for the pitching coach to come out to the mound. The umpire moved to his left and held up one hand. Crawley, leading off, moved out of the batter’s box and tapped his cleats with his bat. C.W. Moss, the team’s pitching coach, was used to pitchers who flounder, but Benny had struck out the first six batters he’d faced.