Page 59 of Carmine

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Carmine was surprised when I walked into the room with Rankin. The reporters turned to see what he was staring at and began shouting questions.

As we reached the desk where Freddie, Carmine, and Coach Matthews sat, I held up my hand.

“Freddie, do you know how to make a video on a phone play on that big screen behind us?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“Rankin, give him your mobile and then sit your ass down and keep your mouth shut,” I ordered.

“Sweet girl, what the hell are you doing?” Carmine asked, confused.

“Trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then watch,” I said as Freddie gave me the remote.

Scared, I stood up and faced the reporters and held up a hand. They stopped shouting questions.

“You know what I’ve found out recently? Everyone is so quick to judge. They take everything at face value and react. Noone researches anything, anymore. Nobody takes time to dig for the truth or even cares. All you want is gossip to fuel mouths and feed tempers. But the truth is often more interesting.

“Who here knows that Rankin is married to a Japanese lady and has mixed-race children? Did any of you bother to check, or was Rankin simply another racist man? How far would you goto protect your family and a child whose medical treatment costs thousands a month? Without which she would die. Let’s see,” I demanded and hit play on the phone.

The video showed Rankin standing watching Carmine and happily urging him on. Then, the coach approached Rankin and told him to throw Carmine off his game. When Rankin refused, the threats made were very clear. Rankin did as he was told, or he was benched, and if he didn’t play, his wages were halved. That was a shitty deal Rankin’s manager had signed off on. Rankin explained to the coach that if he lost half his paycheck, his daughter’s life would be at risk. The coach turned, sneered and said then Rankin had better succeed.

Silence filled the room until the video finished, and chaos ensued. Questions were thrown around, and a miserable Rankin explained once more what had happened.

“How did nobody know about his child?” Carmine asked.

“Pride. Rankin was managing, so didn’t look for help,” I replied.

“Shit. That was a crappy situation to be in,” Carmine murmured, his eyes on Rankin.

“It was be accused of being a racist and everything else or let his daughter die. I’d have done the same,” I admitted.

Carmine stood up and walked over to Rankin. Everyone fell quiet, and I could see anticipation on some of their faces. They expected Carmine to act negatively.

“Sorry that happened to you,” Carmine said and dragged Rankin into a hug. Rankin stiffened and then hugged Carmine back.

“Dude, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but it was my baby girl. Emma’s five,” Rankin replied through tears.

“Ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do to save my kid,” Carmine agreed.

Carmine turned to the reporters in front of him and those recording.

“I propose a game to raise money for Rankin’s child. Baseball is a brotherhood. Somehow, we have forgotten that. We move from team to team, make friends and enemies, but when one of us needs something, we rally. I’m calling to all ballers out there. We’ve seen the video, and we know the truth. Stand with a brother and support his family.

“Any of us could have been Rankin in that situation. It’s time coaches, staff, and players, show we stand against this behaviour. We won’t drag a player down because of hate. We’ll raise them up and stand with them, shoulder to shoulder when they need us. I’m putting a call out for volunteers to play a game and help raise money for a sick little girl that desperately needs it,” Carmine said.

Rankin broke into tears, and Carmine led him away. I sent the reporters a glance.

“You all have the truth; how many of you have the courage to print it?” I asked and chased after them.

Epilogue.

Molly – one year later.

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