And to Think It All Started with a Baseball by Sammi M.
Blair joined in with the chuckles from the rest of his group and playfully cuffed the younger Banks' arm. "As if I would have ever buried anything like that. I may have been sick, but I wasn't stupid." He laughed again, shaking his head as he grabbed something from the table. "Though, you did come awfully close to figuring out what I have for you."
"If that's what I think it is," Daryl pointed to the small, black leather journal in Blair's hand, "Then I think I should let you know I'm not quite ready to explore the wonderful world of older women." Catching the glares of both Becky and Robyn, he blushed. "Not that there's anything wrong with older women… I mean, my mom's an older woman, but…"
"If I were you, I'd quit while I was ahead. You do *not* want to dig yourself deeper into that hole, man. Take it from someone who's been there and knows." The older man focused his eyes back on the journal and the soft smile he gifted his friend quickly put him at ease. "Knowing how I am now, you can probably guess I was full of questions when I was a kid." Shaking his head. "I'm still amazed at how Naomi was able to find answers to half of the stuff, but," he smiled at his mother, "she always did.
"I think I was about three or four and I'd been reading this book for little kids about what you could be when you grew up and I was confused. You see, by that time, I'd been pretty much all over the world and I'd seen people doing all sorts of jobs and they were happy, but this book didn't have any of that in it. So, I went to the one person who I was sure knew *everything* - my mom." Shaking his head again. "I can still see the look on her face when, with all the physical presence available to a small child, I demanded to know what I was going to be and if I was going to be limited to what was in the book. Talk about deer in headlights -- Naomi's expression was priceless! For the tiniest of moments, she couldn't say anything. I mean, let's face it, my mother is not one to just toss out the phrase, 'whatever you want to be, dear,' without thinking of all its implications. I know for a fact she stood there and pondered every scenario that could happen for every answer that she could possibly give -- and she didn't like the results of any of them. So, she did the only thing she could." Blair's eyes found his mother's when her laughter bubbled out from the crowd. "She told me she'd tell me tomorrow and took off to meditate."
Naomi's laughter continued, "Meditate, hell. I just wanted to get away from that determined look and find a bottle of scotch in my non-hard-liquor home." Trying to explain. "I mean, he actually expected me to tell him exactly what he was going to be and set out these … *guidelines*." She shivered in disgust. "I could see one word from me causing my little boy to become a pi… -- a politician. Being the person that I was and still am, I had always believed in *not* being limited to a box and here was my son – the baby that I had gone through 16.5 hours of labour for and that I was raising to be as free as the wind, demanding that I put him in one." She snorted much to Schuy's amusement. "A good scotch and a long night was exactly what I needed to help me out of this one."
"Anyway," Blair redirected. "The next day, after she slept it off and we'd run a few errands, she took me outside and sat me on this little swing that Uncle Darrin had made me and gave me this." He held up the book and waved it slightly. "Without any segue, Naomi started explaining to me how she'd thought long and hard about my question from yesterday and how it'd taken her hours to find this book that would answer everything I wanted to know. I was so excited that it took all the control I had in me to wait for her to finish and when she did, I literally lunged at it. I mean, here was my whole future laid out in front of me in wonderful black and white and because books didn't lie, I was going to follow every word written to become what I was supposed to be." He paused. "With shaking hands, I opened it and suddenly, I knew." Blair took a deep breath and handed the journal to Daryl. "Now, I want you to know."
The young man eagerly grasped the book and opened the intricately designed leather cover. As he turned page after page, his look of wonder was slowly replaced by one of puzzlement until he finally returned his eyes to his friend's. "There's nothing written here. All the pages are blank."
"Of course it's blank. What were you expecting?"
"Well, knowing Naomi, I don't know. I guess the wisdom of the ages. The handwriting of fate detailing my future or something."
"But, you haven't written anything in it yet."
Daryl was now beginning to understand what his father and Jim meant by "entering the Sandburg Zone." He took a long, deep breath and tried to keep in mind that this was his friend and not one of the psychopaths that frequented Cascade. "I know, Blair, cause you just gave it to me. Remember, it's been in the ground for a while."
"Then why did you expect it to have your future written in its pages? Did you honestly believe that something that hasn't seen the light of day in almost seventeen years could possibly tell you more about what you will be than you can?"
"But that's just it, I have no idea what I want to be! You know better than anyone does what all I've been going through over this. I've been getting pressure from my folks and others about choosing a course to follow and it's been building every day. I've read tons of stuff and even taken seminars trying to find where my future's headed and none of them have helped. I've come away from them more confused than ever." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I almost wish someone would go ahead and just *tell* me what to do, but … I'm scared that I'll get stuck in their dream rather than my own."
Blair grabbed Daryl's hand that held the journal and smiled. "You know, you were right again when you said that coming from Naomi, this book had to contain the wisdom of the ages because it does. Every last one of those blank pages is telling you something, Daryl, just like it told me. It's saying you aren't limited to what's in front of you, to black and white. It's saying that books *do* lie, just like people, and we shouldn't base our lives on what they say. It's saying that your possibilities are as endless as those pages and you shouldn't worry that you don't know now because you will know when the time comes. It's saying don't confine yourself to what others write down for you, write what you want, what you need, what it will take for *you* to be happy." Nodding again towards the journal. "Only you can write what belongs in that book, no one else. Not your school counsellors, not some self-help guru, not even -- and this is probably going to get me killed -- your parents. Give it some time, get the basics out of the way, and before long, you'll just know."
Daryl stared at the journal for a few minutes before finally releasing what sounded like the weight of the world, but in actuality was only a deep breath. Though his eyes were still troubled when he lifted them back to Blair's, a bit more spirit and determination could be seen lurking in their depths. Slight nods and a handshake were the only things the rest of the group could see pass between the two, but no one would ever dispute that a lot more invisible communication took place because the air around them seemed alive with it.
When Daryl finally turned back to his seat, he paused when he saw his dad standing in his way. The young man squared his shoulders at the imposing stance his father held and moved forward. When only a few inches remained between them, Simon broke into a huge grin, opened his arms and embraced his son.
The Banks men stood there together for a little while longer until Megan cleared her throat and winked at them when they looked in her direction. Realising they were holding things up, Daryl quickly took his seat and Simon made his way to the patiently waiting Sandburg.
"Glad to see you could finally make it."
Simon glared in mock anger at his observer and held up a warning finger. "I'd watch it if I were you, Sandburg. I still haven't forgotten your using my name and office for *your* Victoria's Secret catalogue subscription. I swear, if the Commissioner comes up to me one more time for suggestions, I'm going to personally see to it you are offered to Vice."
"I think I get the message, sir," Blair quickly interrupted. "Sheesh! It's not like it's that big a deal. You should be flattered. The Commissioner is not a bad-looking woman." Shrugging. "Personally, I'd be more concerned with how Chief Warren always 'drops by' on the day it's supposed to be delivered. That man's a piranha."
"Well piranha or no, it's best we stay on his good side. He can be a vindictive son-of-bitch when pushed and, even though I barely tolerate you, I wouldn't want to see you on the receiving end of anything he decided to dish out."
Blair winked at him. "Yeah, right. Go ahead and admit it, Simon. You like me. You *really* like me." Ignoring the second glare of the day directed at him from his sorta boss, Sandburg quickly grabbed an item and tossed it to the other man who caught it with no trouble. "Nice to see you still have those cop reflexes. Wouldn't want desk duty to have softened them up."
"If you don't hurry up and tell me why you just tossed me an old sheriff's badge, I'm gonna show you just how good my reflexes are by having you over my knee and administering the whupping you so desperately deserve before you can blink."
"All right, chill already. No need to resort to violence." Tilting his head for a better look. "You know, we really need to review your and Jim's diets. Something is really keeping you on edge. I was just offering you a compliment and suddenly you're ready to take my head off."
Barely containing his grin, Blair nodded at the badge in his friend's hand. "That is not just *any* old badge you're holding, Simon. *That* is a genuine silver sheriff's five-pointed star -- not to be confused with the more theatrical eight-pointed ones or the gold-plated ones. During that same period where I was fascinated with cowboys, I was also into the lawmen. Some of the tales of the sheriffs were just as interesting and fun as the others and I'd sit for hours listening.
"What fascinated me the most was the role the Sheriff played in the towns. Aside from the obvious one of upholding the law, he was often the appointed leader for most functions, a guardian or watcher always willing to lend a hand, a calming voice in turmoil, a Solomon of sorts during conflicts, a trusted confidante to all and a friend to most and a fairly good poker player." Blair smirked as he eyed Simon. "Well, seven out of eight isn't too bad." Chuckling as the older man shot him yet another look and … quite possibly the finger. "Anyway, some of them also played another very important role that very few historians detailed -- that of a surrogate parent for the children of the town who - through death or some vice - found themselves without." Again, the eyes seemed to convey a lot more than the words. "Oftentimes, the Sheriff would take these kids under his wing and be a guiding influence throughout their lives and they knew there was always at least one person they could turn to if the need arose."
Blair held out his hand and, with everything he had, managed to let the other man know exactly what he was feeling in three simple words, "Thank you, Simon."
Looking at Sandburg in a way he normally reserved for Darryl, the elder Banks grasped the hand and used it as a means of pulling the younger man into an embrace that spoke volumes as well.
Again, it was Megan clearing her throat that brought the moment to an end and Simon made a quick note to assign the woman as much grunt work as possible when they returned for interrupting both of his special moments. He stepped back from Blair and replaced the soft look he'd shared with the younger man with the stern one his men were used to seeing. "Don't even think this will by any means keep your bony butt off my hit list. One more screw-up from you, Sandburg, and you'll be looking at one of the greatest ass-chewings Major Crimes has ever seen. Understood?"
"Loud and clear, Captain," Blair answered with a wink. "Loud and clear."
As he was returning to his seat, Simon could have sworn he heard Ellison muttering something about someone being a pure mush, but, when he turned to nail the man with his glare of doom, he was greeted with the most innocent of smiles. Which of course verified the man had said it because Ellison couldn't really pull off the innocent look fresh out of the womb let alone almost forty years later. With another quick note to himself to assign his best detective to help Connor, the captain took his seat – making sure to pin his badge on his suit coat for everyone to see.
All eyes returned to Blair, but his attention was focused on Schuyler as she quietly made her way to her brother's side. Those that hadn't realised things weren't exactly normal between the two soon had the fact brought home when the girl hesitated ever so slightly in taking her brother's hand. Those in the know hoped that would be the only hesitation between the two.
"You look tired, Snip."
"Haven't looked in a mirror lately, have you?"
Blair chuckled, "Not since this morning before they called for me. I think I've been afraid of how much worse I look now that it's been a few hours."
"It's not that bad -- nothing that a nice nap won't cure." She wrinkled her nose. "It's just that black…"
He gently squeezed the hand he held and couldn't really hide his disappointment when the gesture wasn't returned. "Yeah, I know. Black has always washed me out. You should have seen me when I joined the Gothics on campus for a paper -- people would cross the street and finger their crosses when they'd see me coming."
As if he were afraid she'd bolt, he slowly released her hand and held up his hands in a staying motion before turning to the table and picking up yet another wrapped bundle. With the same reverence in which he'd held the nkisi, Blair unwrapped the bundle until a beautiful doll in full but faded African dress was visible. He held it so that Schuy could see it. "Do you remember this?"
The girl reached out her hand and gently traced the features of the doll. "Not this one, but it looks like one of my grandmother's -- Leigh's mother's designs."
"That's probably because it is. Leigh said that her mother made it for her just a few weeks before Malli died and how out of all her mother's dolls, this one became her favourite because of that."
"So, how'd you end up with it?"
Blair smiled at his sister as he cradled the doll as if it were a baby. "Can you believe Leigh actually gave it to me after one of her trips back home. I think it was the summer right before she met Kael because by the next time the annual trip rolled by, they were married. The three mothers had decided not to take Dev, Pat and me along because there was a nasty cholera epidemic in the area they were headed. Leigh promised us she'd bring back some goodies from her homeland and we were like counting down the days or something like that since we weren't really old enough to count very high."
A wistful look crossed the elder Sandburg's face as he drifted into the memory. "I remember they didn't even stop to change clothes or anything before they made their way back to us. They'd missed us as much as we'd missed them and the reunion was tearful on both sides -- the twins would barely let go of Bren and I was alternating between Naomi and Leigh. Finally, Leigh decided enough time had been wasted and she grabbed me and pushed the twin-covered Bren into the gathering room and had us seated while her guards brought in our gifts. When I saw the boxes with our names on them, I couldn't help but start squirming and I remember Leigh just started laughing." Coming out of the memory and cupping her face with his free hand, he softly caressed her cheek. "You know you have her laugh, and her smile." He winked at her. "But, you definitely have Kael's eyes."
For a brief moment, the camaraderie was evident as they answered simultaneously, "Yes, in a small box, back in the room."
Blair was delighted, "You remembered!"
"How could I ever forget the first gag you taught me after I started making complete sentences. Do you know how many stares and worried glances I would get when I'd answer them with that line? Enough that I'm sure it got me a couple of extra sessions with the head-shrinkers." Glancing back at Becky. "No offence."
"Yeah, well. It was still a great gag and it had the added attraction of completely blowing most of the adults away. They never could get around your innocent face spouting a line like that. It was pure classic!" His eyes sparkled. "But getting back to the subject before the natives get restless, Leigh handed out our presents and I quickly tore into mine to find a doll. Talk about a rude awakening. Not that it wasn't a nice doll -- it was just a doll. I mean, I'd had dolls when I was a *lot* younger -- you couldn't grow up around three strong feminist women without learning there was no such thing as boy toys and girl toys -- but Dev got a slingshot complete with ceremonial stones. And let's not even start with Pat's gift -- and *I* get a doll!
"I guess she could tell I wasn't too thrilled so she pulled me close and she asked what was wrong. Now, I loved Bren and Leigh like they were my biological mothers and I really didn't want to hurt her. So, I told her there was nothing wrong and just sat back quietly … with my doll. Leigh wasn't buying it, so she started to tell me about her mother making it and how much it meant to her and then she asked me if I knew how much she loved me. I had no doubt about her feelings for me so I enthusiastically nodded my head. She gave me that dynamic smile of hers and she told me that she loved me *so* much that she was entrusting me with her most prized possession -- the best gift she'd ever received. She said that she knew I'd take care of it and that she'd never have to worry about it because I'd love it just as much as she did.
"Even being a little kid, I knew she was giving me something more than a doll, but, being a little kid, I couldn't even contemplate what it could be." As he placed the doll in Schuy's arms, he gently wiped the tears from her face. "Leigh was always this special spirit. She could see things that would baffle most people but would seem perfectly natural to her. It was almost like an other-world quality." He stepped closer and cupped her face in both his hands. "Looking back, now, I can see she was getting me ready for you."
Blair pulled his sister completely to him and kissed her forehead. "I know you don't remember a lot about her, but she really was something else. There's an awful lot of her in you. And because of that, I know she'd want you to have this, just like Malli wanted her to have it."
Schuyler shakily looked down at her mother's gift, "But, she gave it to you."
"Knowing Leigh, only for safe keeping." He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "Besides, I don't really mind giving up the imitation, cause I already have the real thing right here."
Carefully, so as not to damage the precious gift, they embraced for several long minutes and not even Megan dared to interrupt this time. When they finally pulled apart, neither of them could avoid the smiles that took up residence as they wiped the tears from each other's face. With another kiss from Blair, Schuy made her way back to her seat and a tearful Naomi.
With her white dress flowing and a quick peck on her daughter's cheek, Naomi Sandburg stood and made her way up to her baby boy. Her grace and poise, even with tears still streaming down her face, affected everyone in the room and left no doubt in their minds that she was a real lady. In her typical style, the first thing she did was wrap her arms around her son and squeeze until he couldn't help but laugh. Hearing her favourite sound, she stepped back and took his face in her hands, dazzling him with her smile. "Just in case I haven't said it enough, you were always a remarkable little boy, even when you were faced with one of the worst things that a child can face, and you have grown into the most wonderful person that I have ever had the fortune to know. Whatever destiny told you to gift me with *cannot* compare to what I already have and that I was so blessed to be allowed to keep."
Blushing, even though this was nothing really new with Naomi, Blair lowered his head for a moment to get control of his emotions. It still amazed him how with just a few words his mother could make him feel invincible. Shoot! With Naomi beside him, he was invincible.
Without disturbing the arm that loosely circled him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of drawing paper. With shaking hands, he quietly unfolded it until it opened up to a fairly large size and then he raised his eyes back to hers. "Do you remember how much you used to love my drawings?"
"Of course. You were so talented and everything you drew was so beautiful. I think that's the only thing I hated about your recovery -- you stopped drawing. But then, if I had to give up anything from that horrible time, I'm thankful it was only that."
"You know, before, you said one thing that really stuck in my mind -- you mentioned destiny. Even with everything I'd seen in my life and the things I'd experienced, I still believed that all of it was pure luck, or lack thereof. Then, I opened the casket and I suddenly had to come face-to-face with something I'd been denying." Looking down at the drawing. "I think all of this finally brought home that this is where I was meant to be." Blair glanced out at his friends. "Not here at the Centre, specifically, but in this time and with all of you. Everything that I ever did and every place that I ever visited was leading me here -- to you guys. It took me coming back to the Centre and opening up a box that had been buried for almost seventeen years to realise that you guys and Cascade were my destiny."
He could tell his comments were making the cops in the group nervous, so, like any good teacher presenting something that was hard to accept to his students, Blair decided to give them the one thing cops lived for -- proof. "What I'm going to show you totally threw me when I saw it. It was the one thing out of *all* the things that came out of the casket I couldn't explain away as simply chance. The only thing I can tell you about it is I remember drawing it - I just don't remember why." With his shaking hands visible to everyone, he turned the paper around so that the others could see. "This was the last thing I ever drew."
Even without the whole front row leaning forward, which they all did anyway, the figures and the place stood out as if they were on a billboard. Quick intakes of breath and pale faces were the only signs that the group was just as floored as Blair. The shock of seeing themselves -- Simon, Joel, Megan, Jim, Schuyler, Naomi, Henry, Daryl, and Rafe -- sitting around a grown-up Blair in the loft on that obviously old paper and drawn in wonderful, yet obviously by a child's hand, detail was enough to stun them all into silence except Naomi, who almost seemed to expect it.
After several minutes of the quiet shock of the group and out of fear that her son's shaking hands might tear the fragile paper, she gently removed it from him and folded it back the way it had been for so many years. "Since it's my turn to be up here, I'm going to believe this was meant for me." Turning him back to face her, she kissed his forehead. "I promise to keep it just as safe."
She gifted him with one of those "loving-mother" faces before gracefully returning to her seat. As she sat, she softly patted Jim's arm to let him know he was up. When he didn't move, Naomi frowned just a bit and added a touch more strength behind her tap. When there still wasn't a response, she punched him, in the arm of course, and he jerked as if awakening from a nap.
Realising Naomi was finished - and that his arm hurt - Jim sleekly moved to the spot where he belonged -- beside his Guide. Though he was still dazed by what he'd just seen, in typical Ellison fashion, he tried to play it off. "So, what fated thing do you have in mind for me?"
Blair calmly smiled and lifted a bat like it was the World Series and it was his turn.
Jim stepped back just a bit and raised his hands in surrender, "Whoa there, Chief. Whatever it is, I didn't mean it."
"What?" The perfect picture of innocent confusion.
"The bat, Sandburg."
"What about it? You asked what I had for you and this is it. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal is you started wielding it like my head was a ball and you were looking for the grand slam. Excuse me for being cautious, but I had no idea what you had in mind for me."
Blair chuckled, "Nothing half as evil as you thought, Jim. I was just giving you an up-close view."
The detective eyed his friend warily, "But why a bat, Big Mac?"
"This isn't just any bat. Did you check out the signature?!" He turned it over. "Remember my telling you that I got to go to all sorts of major sporting events thanks to my … uh … 'uncles.' Well, one of those particular events took place on October 18, 1977 in New York. It was game six of one of the greatest World Series in history."
The excitement was practically rolling off Blair and his partner couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I didn't just get to see Reggie Jackson hit one homer; I got to see him hit *THREE*. The guy was like a powerhouse or something. I'd never seen anything like it. It was almost spiritual!" If possible, his excitement grew. "If that had been everything to that trip, it would have been enough, but Corey had another surprise for me." Jim laughingly wondered if Schuy was feeling offended because the elder Sandburg was now using the same caress on the bat that he'd used on her cheek. "Corey was a local sportscaster and he'd gotten in pretty tight with the team, but I didn't know this. So, after the game, he asked me if I wanted to go meet some of his friends. Corey was pretty cool, so I thought why not and followed him. He took me to the locker room! I thought I'd died and gone to Valhalla!
"We'd just barely missed all of the champagne sprays and everybody was feeling pretty good. Corey started walking up to these guys I'd only dreamed about meeting -- Pinella, Chambliss, Guidry, Gullett, Hunter, Munson -- and introducing me and they were like so cool. They actually talked to me, man!
"But, that was *nothing* compared to turning around and finding *the* Reggie Jackson - Mr. October, himself, behind me. I remember him asking who I was and who I was with, but speech had like totally deserted me. All I could do was like stare. Thank goodness for Corey. He shook hands with Reggie and told him my name and that I was with him and he was showing me around the place. I still hadn't said anything, but Reggie didn't seem to mind cause he asked me if I liked baseball. I nodded and he laughed and I guess he decided to give me one more chance because then he asked me what positions I played. I don't know who was more surprised, him or me, when I finally spoke and told him first base, cause I had a great arm *and* I could bat.
"I remember this big grin came over his face and he kind of nodded at Corey before looking back at me, 'So, you're pretty good at bat, huh?' He asked. I was starting to feel better and seeing how easy-going he was helped. 'I'm the best there is -- uh -- I mean, on my team. You're the *best* everywhere else.' He laughed at that. 'Don't be afraid. It's good you recognise your own talent, means you'll go far. I like that in a person.'" Blair almost seemed to be vibrating now. "I thought the world was ending. Reggie Jackson said he liked me, sort of. Anyway, I didn't think the night could get any better than that, but then he motioned for somebody behind me to come over. I thought he was finished with me and it was time to go so I started turning to Corey when I felt this hand on my shoulder. 'Hold on a minute.' I turned back just as this guy was handing Reggie a bat and this marker. 'You see this bat?' I nodded. 'This bat was the one I used for my last homer. I had Ralph here hold it and the other one for me to take home, but I got to thinkin' why would I need two bats? So, when you said you were the best batter on your team, I thought it must be fate or something.' I felt like my eyes were going to pop out when he signed the bat and handed it to me. It was just so unbelievable.
"I don't really remember much after that point. I think he tousled my hair and patted my shoulder and Corey said I thanked the man, but I was totally focused on my bat. I don't remember us leaving the ballpark. I don't remember the trip home. I don't even remember going to bed, but that next morning there I was, … and so was my bat."
"Wow. That's a great story, Chief. I'm sure your future generations are going to appreciate the bat more when they hear it."
Blair smiled, "Not mine, yours."
Ellison started shaking his head as soon as he realised what his partner was saying. "No way, Sandburg. That bat is the stuff that dreams are made of. I can't take that from you."
"You're not *taking* anything from me; I'm giving it to you."
"But -- but do you have any idea how much that thing is worth? I mean a collector would probably shell out some major money."
The younger man agreed. "Probably, but I don't think I could put a price on it. Something like this is priceless -- just like our friendship.
"When I was given the bat, I *thought* I was the luckiest person on the planet. When you made me your friend and a part of your family, I *knew* I was." Blair held it out to his friend. "Come on, man, it's about friendship. You can't pass this up."
For several long minutes after accepting the bat, Jim could only stare at the piece of wood. He just couldn't fathom that his friend cared so much about him that he would give him something so valuable. Then it hit him. *He survived cancer to become my friend. There's nothing more valuable than that.* And to the astonishment of the other officers, who thought for sure they knew everything about the detective, Jim pulled his Guide into a tight embrace and answered, "No, Blair, it's about a lot more. It's about destiny."
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