Julia Caldwell listened to the familiar sound of a ball
hitting the center pocket of a baseball mitt echoed through
the hospital corridors, as routine as the monitors beeping
at the nurse’s station at Caridad del Cobre Children’s
Hospital. For the last month, the Cortez family, mother
and 14 year old twin sons, had been a fixture at the
hospital; Michael Cortez and his baseball obsession a
welcome break from sickness and pain. As the healthy child
in a single parent home, baseball was the only comfort
Michael Cortez had. Nobody, from the nurses to the doctors,
to the other patients or parents, would ever ask him to
stop the repetitive movements. Because Michael and his
brother Manny were twins, alike in so many ways except for
a cruel genetic twist.
Manny had leukemia. Michael did not. Manny had his
mother at his side day and night. Michael did not.
Every afternoon, Michael walked to the hospital from
school and took up residence in either his brother’s room
or the family lounge. Not wanting to be a burden to his
mother, he’d do his homework without being reminded, bring
his mom coffee, and then turn to the comforting routine of
tossing the ball into the glove.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
From her small office near the nurse’s station, Julia
filled out the Request for Assistance Forms for the Andre
Sobel River of Life Foundation. As the social worker
responsible for the pediatric wing of Caridad del Cobre,
Julia had already been in contact with the Program Manager
at ASRL and the foundation was expecting the formal
request. Within twenty-four hours, ASRL would cut a check
to Anna Cortez’s landord, electric company and phone
carrier. Their apartment and other essentials would be
taken care of while Anna sat by Manny’s bedside, willing
him to live. Anna had already lost her job because, as
everyone at the hospital understood too well, a child’s
illness was all consuming. ASRL’s motto was, "when
compassion can’t wait."
And the Foundation always stepped up immediately.
Before Julia faxed in the Request for Assistance, she
said her usual prayer of thanks to the people at ASRL,
grateful she’d contacted the Foundation almost two years
ago for another single parent of a teenage girl with a
brain tumor. Since then, Caridad del Cobre routinely
applied to ASRL for funding for families who met the
criteria – single caregivers who needed to be with their
sick children.
Julia leaned against the wall and sighed. But who would
make sure the needs of Michael Cortez, the healthy child,
were met?
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Julia listened to the sound, as familiar to her as the
number 22 emblazoned on the fourteen year old boy’s
jersey. Number 22, Kyle Hansen, star pitcher for the Miami
Suns, the city’s three year old expansion team who’d made
it as far as the playoffs last year. Kyle was their multi-
million dollar boy, their marquee player and their captain.
He was also Julia’s high school sweetheart and first
love - before life choices got in the way. The fax machine
beeped loudly, telling her the fax had gone through.
Shaking off the past, Julia headed to tell Anna Cortez that
everything would be taken care of soon.
Smack. Smack. Smack.
Drawn by the sound, Julia paused by the family waiting
room and glanced at the dark haired boy sitting alone in
the lounge, rhythmically smacking the ball into his glove.
"Hey, Michael."
"Hey." He didn’t take his eye off the ball. With hard
work and a guardian angel, the boy’s focus and
concentration could take him far.
Just like his idol.
"What time is today’s Sun game?" she asked him.
"Seven."
Julia nodded. Her paid day ended at five. "Want
company?" She didn’t have plans for the night and she could
just as easily watch the game here as at home.
The boy shrugged. "Don’t care."
Smack. Smack. Smack.
"Good. That settles it, then. I’ll pick us up burgers
for dinner and be back in time for the game. It’ll be like
we’re at the stadium."
"Burgers from Burgers, Shakes and Fries?" he asked, his
tone showing the first sign of eagerness.
Julia grinned. "Yeah. I can go to Burger, Shakes and
Fries." Even if it was fifteen minutes in the other
direction. Michael’s smile was worth it.
Her heart swelled and she felt an overwhelming empathy
for the boy who was losing his childhood along with his
brother. She’d once been him, the healthy sibling with a
sister dying of leukemia and Julia knew exactly how Michael
was feeling.
Alone, lonely, resentful and afraid. She also knew that
no matter whether Manny recovered or not, Michael’s life
would never be the same. His relationship with his mother,
his sibling, even the rest of the world, would be forever
altered. As hers had been.
If someone didn’t step in and acknowledge that he was
important too, his already rioting emotions would change
him from just a teenager with attitude to one who found
validation elsewhere, in crime or worse in one of the
street gangs prevalent in the downtown area where he
lived. Julia knew it would take a special person with
unique skills to get past the teenager’s well-honed
defenses and impress the boy. Someone like the man Julia
hadn’t seen in nine years and who she’d never had any
intention of contacting again.
She ran her hands up and down her arms as she traveled
down memory road. Kyle had signed a letter of intent to
play baseball for the University of Miami but turned down
the scholarship when he was selected in the first round of
the amateur draft to play for the Seattle Mariners right
after graduation. He’d asked, actually he’d expected, her
to go with him.
She’d refused. For more reasons than she could think
about now.
Could she just resurface in his life all these years
later and ask him to help? And even if she was willing to
just step up and ask him, she couldn’t easily find a way to
contact him now that he was a celebrity.
But she had resources. Illness didn’t discriminate and
thanks to her work at Caridad del Cobre and her association
with ASRL, she had met people from all walks of life.
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