Caden Bennett's Awesome Baseball Summer - Part 1

 "Strrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiike three, you're out!" 

"Man, he is the worst." 

"Yeah, I know. Is there any reason we can't just ditch this guy? He can't fucking play!" 

"His parents gave the team a bunch of money." 

"Wait, what?" 

"Yeah, didn't you hear? Coach knows that dude's parents and they're loaded." 

"So you're saying that two adults paid money so their grown son could play on a baseball team? He's in his 20s for cryin out loud!" 

"Shhh, here he comes." 

The players were all silent as Caden approached them. 

"I almost got it. Almost! I almost had it, guys!" 

"Yeah, you just had to deal with the whole ball coming at you thing," someone remarked. 

"Yeah, right? Haha! So hey, I heard you guys are going out for drinks tonight!" 

Someone was whispering to someone else "Who the fuck told him we were going out tonight?" but Caden wasn't paying attention. Caden never paid attention. That was the whole point of being Caden. There was nothing in particular that was wrong about Caden. Not one thing. It was a lot of little things. He didn't really understand how to behave in a group, or around a single person, or a crowd for that matter. Caden was a problematic child who had grown into a man who was not used to dealing with problems on his own. He was quite used to asking Mommy and Daddy for money to pay for problems to go away. He talked about this openly, about how he would ask his Mom and Dad for money, and they would just give it to them. Caden talked a lot, but when he talked, other people tended to become uncomfortable. Caden took silence as an excuse to talk for longer periods of time about himself and his thoughts, not ever taking the social cue that someone could be disinterested in his opinions. 

"So anyway I found this great girl on OK Cupid but she was...she was crazy, man. She was a total nutcase." 

"Really." 

"Yeah. Oh yeah. That's a real bummer there," a disinterested player replied. 

"Do we really need money this badly?" someone whispered to someone else. Caden assumed they were talking about something else that had nothing to do with him, when it was entirely about him. Caden had selective hearing that way. 

Caden talked to other players about his Star Wars figurine collection, his thoughts on his marketing internship, his mother's refusal for two years to send him to film school before she finally broke down and gave him a hundred thousand dollars to do so, which he then found out was a waste of money. He couldn't find a job but that was only because it was so competitive out there! His parents had fought with him to choose something more practical and they never should have criticized him because he worked so hard in college...

At this point, if Caden had been paying attention, he would have seen the various faces of players on the bench looking at each other with eye rolls and looks of disbelief, or the one guy who was cradling his face in his hands wishing he was anywhere else, which Caden eventually did notice. 

"Hey, man. Are you disappointed because of our score? I think it'll pick up in the next inning." 

"Yeah, maybe you'll hit a home run!" the man replied sarcastically. Caden was bad with names so he couldn't remember what the guy's name was. 

"Actually, what I really want to do is pitch! I keep telling the coach that my strong point it pitching!" This prompted several looks of shock from various teammates. Caden was convinced of his own greatness, but it was well known on the team that he had absolutely no athletic talent to speak of. 

When the game was (finally) over, several men were demoralized and wanted to go out for some beers and cigars. Everyone was there for the love of the game. All of them had jobs or went to school. Caden was stuck in a seemingly perpetual adolescent bubble, protected by his family's massive wealth. Even though everyone wanted to say something, Coach had begged them not to. They were an amateur team but with the influx of money they now had a fighting chance to get some attention. Coach said the sponsorship was exactly what they needed to get them over the edge. Most people thought he might be pocketing some of the money. Some of the guys were sucking up a little bit in the hopes of getting free stuff from their new eager but worthless teammate. 

"Dude, you like cigars? We're gonna smoke out tonight. My treat," Chuck told him. Chuck was a bigger man, very muscular and masculine. He was one of the best players on the team. 

"No thanks, man," Caden told him. "Cigars are super gross. I'd never smoke one of those things, or anything for that matter. Gotta think of my health." 

Caden showed up and the guys were less than enthusiastic. Some of them headed out of the bar the second he arrived. A few had stayed behind in the hopes of influencing him a bit. They had a few beers and headed outside to an outdoor seating area. Chuck had brought cigars. He handed one to Caden. All the other guys were lighting up. 

"Come on, man. I'll teach you how. You wanna fit in with us, right?" Chuck asked, and he got several other of the players to pressure Caden to join them. 

"I...I dunoo, guys. I mean, the ladies don't really dig cigar breath all that much." 

"You see any hot chicks around?" someone joked. "It's a boy's night! Live a little!" 

"I dunno...I mean...I'm one of the best players we've got. I want to be at my best tomorrow. You know?" Caden said the words but he didn't register the silence or the incredulous looks everyone else was wearing. 

"Dude, just smoke the fucking cigar and say thank you. We're trying to hang out with you but you're not making it easy," a player named Bobby told him. Caden frowned. He didn't have many friends. Since college, many other students had been jealous of his path to success with his new marketing career. That must have been the reason no one returned his calls. 

But part of Caden did really want to fit in and be a cool dude. 

"Come on. Maybe you'll really like it. You never know unless you try." 

"Okay. Okay, I'll try it. Just this once, though." 

"Thattaboy, champ!" The men all cheered him on. 

"So how do I look? Pretty cool?" Caden coughed dramatically. 

"Don't inhale, stupid!" 

"I knew that! I was just trying it out. I like to try new things. I'm cool. I always like to have new experiences." 

"Yeah, man. I'm sure you do." Bobby smiled widely. 

Caden managed to smoke his very first cigar and he was rather proud of himself. He had regaled his fellow teammates of some really interesting surveys that he'd developed for his marketing internship. One by one the fellas headed back home. Bobby gave him a pat on the back and told him he was proud of him. 

"And who knows? Maybe this will even start to make a real man out of you." Bobby smiled as if he was in on a secret joke. 

"Well the thing is I am a pretty cool guy. I mean I'm not as big as you or anything but I think I hold my own pretty well." 

"Oh yeah, sure," Bobby said, sarcastically. "Well, champ. Get some rest. You've got a real big week ahead of you." 

Less than an hour later, Caden was driving home when he had to pull over. He suddenly didn't feel so well. What Bobby and the fellas didn't tell him was that the first time you smoke a cigar, and you'd never smoked anything before, the nicotine rush could be enough to make you extremely ill. Most men had to develop a slow tolerance to cigars by either trying nubs first or pipe tobacco where you could control the increments more. But what they were hoping was that Caden would get sick and vomit uncontrollably. 

Which he promptly did. 

As he was puking and cursing out all of his teammates, Caden fell into a fit. Caden had fits from time to time. 

"Stupid fucking losers! Fucking losers! BLOOOOOEEEEEHHHHHH!" Caden vomited onto a tree. He had stopped near a park and it was getting late. He had to be up early for his internship tomorrow morning. "Assholes! They're all a bunch of FUCKING assholes!" He screamed, his voice cracking. No one was walking around nearby. He was alone. 

ARE THEY REALLY THE ASSHOLES, THOUGH, CADEN? 

"Yeah, they fucking are! I'm throwing up now and it's all their fault!" 

NOW IS THAT REALLY ALL THAT FAIR? THEY WERE JUST TRYING TO MAKE YOU ONE OF THE BOYS. 

"Hey. Who said that?" Caden looked around him. There was nobody in sight. The voice he heard was clear as a bell, though. The voice had sounded deep and resonant, yet wise and even faintly amused. The voice of a man who could do voice over work for sure. Caden was vaguely reminded of the narrator from the 80s version of The Twilight Zone, a show he liked to watch from time to time on Youtube. 

YES, CADEN. I CHOSE A VOICE I KNEW YOU WOULD ENJOY. DO YOU LIKE IT? I LIKE IT. 

"Yeah, it's great. Doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo. Haha." Caden was a little drunk. "So you're really freaking me out, man. Come out from wherever you're hiding!" 

A homeless man passed by Caden and picked up his pace, freaked out by Caden's outburst. 

OH I THINK YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT, MY DEAR BOY. YOU SEE I'M NOT REALLY WHAT YOU WOULD CALL BOUND BY THE ETHEREAL PLANE. I DON'T REALLY THINK YOU UNDERSTAND. I'M NOT A PRANK. I'M NOT A FIGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION. I'M QUITE REAL. DO YOU REMEMBER IN FIFTH GRADE WHEN YOU TOLD EVERYONE THAT YOUR MOM WAS FRIENDS WITH BRANDY BECAUSE YOU WANTED THE OTHER KIDS TO LIKE YOU? 

"Yeah, they all thought I was a cool guy." 

NO THEY DIDN'T, CADEN. NO ONE THOUGHT THAT. YOU'VE ALWAYS TRIED SO HARD TO BE LIKED. AREN'T YOU TIRED OF TRYING? DON'T YOU THINK IT'S TIME YOU TRIED SOMETHING DIFFERENT? 

"Like what?" Caden asked the disembodied voice coming out of nowhere. 

WELL, WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME YOUR HEART'S DESIRE AND I'LL TRY AND GRANT IT. BE HONEST. YOU'RE NOT LIKE YOUR TEAMMATES. THEY'RE A GROUP OF REAL WORKING CLASS MEN. 

"I am working class! I have an internship! I work like a slave for that job!" 

OH, CADEN. WE BOTH KNOW YOU SPEND HALF YOUR TIME PLAYING FORTNIGHT. BUT ENOUGH OF THAT. TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT. 

"You know what I want? I want everyone to respect me for my work ethic and...and...and I want girls to like me! And I want guys to like me! I want to be popular, goddamit!" Caden was shrieking now. 

CALM DOWN, BIG BOY. YOU'VE GOT A LOT ON YOUR MIND. TELL ME WHAT ELSE YOU WANT. 

"Okay, you...I want to be bigger than everyone else and handsomer because you know what? None of these sluts I see ever pays any attention to me! I take them out on dates and I pay for dinner and they aren't even interested in getting to know me! I'm tired of dealing with sluts, man!" 

IT'S SUCH A SHAME, REALLY. YOU'RE SUCH AN ENDLESSLY ENTERTAINING MORTAL. 

"I know I am! And they're all totally...totally...BLEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHH!" Caden vomited again. "They're totally crazy, all of them," he waved a hand, drunkenly. He had forgotten how much beer had been in that pitcher but he had had a little too much. "I'm a stud, man! I deserve all the praise! Me! I'm the one who should like, have big muscles and be tall and...and I should be the one everyone is thanking for being on the team!" 

SO THAT'S ALL YOU WANT? 

"Yeah that. That's all I want, Mr. Voice! So are you gonna come out now and show me what you look like or what?" 

Caden blinked. He was now at home and not at the park. He didn't remember coming home. Man, he was lucky no cops picked him up. That's for sure! He slunk into bed, exhausted. He had a big day ahead of him. He didn't bother to think about the voice until he woke up, convinced that he had had a crazy dream of some kind involving him talking to some creepy narrator inside his head. 

The next day, Caden went to his marketing job and did analysis work. It was monkey work, really. He wanted to do more important tasks but for some reason the bitch in charge thought he wasn't ready for anything with more responsibility. The nerve of these women trying to tell him what he was and wasn't capable of. He wished he could work with just men. Like his teammates. They were so cool. He got the slight feeling they didn't like him after last night. Did they give him a cigar and expect him to throw up from it? 

When he got home, he saw an unfamiliar brown wooden box on his living room table. 

It was a humidor, full of cigars. He felt revulsion as he thought about last night, and remembered he should call his mother. His relationship with his parents was good. They helped him any time he needed them to. They used to scream at him a lot when they didn't understand him and how important his career was to him but they had mellowed out the last few years. 

Caden started off talking about how much his baseball teammates loved him while his mother commented minimally. Then he complained about the office and how people just needed to understand him better. Then he complained about all the girls he was meeting on OK Cupid. 

"I wish you would just talk to a professional counselor about these things," his mother told him, agitated and perplexed. "I mean, I've done everything I can for you, Caden. I have a charity auction I'm preparing for."

"Mom, you help me because that's what moms are for," Caden explained. His mother sighed. 

"Sometimes I honestly just regret not leaving you at a bus stop." 

"Oh, haha, Mom." Caden laughed it off, not realizing his mother was totally serious. 

"I have to go. I have other people in my life that need my attention. Don't forgot your cousin's birthday is next Tuesday. Bring something appropriate. No violent video games." She hung up before Caden had a chance to respond. He wasn't going to spend that kind of money on his cousin! 

He came back to the humidor. He wondered how it had gotten here. He was surprised to find that it was full of cigars. It was so odd. Did someone sneak into his apartment and leave it here? Was it one of the guys from his team? Was it a joke? He felt revulsion upon remembering how sick he was the night before...but for some reason his revulsion changed. He blinked, the memory fadinig away. Hadn't that just been a bad dream? He looked at the cigars. A treasure trove of tobacco. He loved the way all of them had different labels. They were so pretty and aromatic. God, the smell was so heavenly. Like cedar, old paper, coffee and pepper all at once. It was the magic of a good cigar to give you multiple tastes and sensations. 

He inhaled the scent of a maduro and felt good. Better than he had in a long time. He felt a peaceful calm come over him. 

He needed a cigar! But dinner first. He went ahead and prepared a meal from some frozen dinners and wolfed it down. He knew he had to start eating better one of these days. But who cared if he had a little pudge? He could always find time to get a treadmill and work out after he spent a few years just getting his career in marketing started. 

Finally, it was time for his reward. 

"Oh...hell yeah. God, this cigar hits the spot." For some reason, his memories of last night were jumbled and blurred. Did he have a dream about going out with his teammates and getting sick? Why would he throw up? He wasn't a pussy or anything. Cigars and beer were a favorite activity of a red blooded American male. He puffed contentedly. 

The next day he had practice. He didn't do that well and it irritated him. Shouldn't he just be better at playing baseball? Didn't he try to do it as a kid? He imagined the other kids not picking him, always last to be chosen. It just didn't seem right. Suddenly, the anger over how he just gave up and resented everyone he went to school with just shattered something inside him and his bat made contact with the ball. It sailed in an arc that, while not perfect, was at least better than his average of failure. He made first base and managed to get to third before someone said "You're out!" but his team encouraged him with a few claps. Some exchanged glances with each other. Wasn't this kid supposed to suck a lot more? 

That night he celebrated on the street. He wore some clothing that wasn't too familiar to him. He had found a new shirt, a sports jersey, just lying on a chair in his room. He never cleaned. It was a mess all the time in his apartment. His mother used to scream at him. His father just always looked annoying and busy with his own work. But it wasn't like he was as messy as other people. 

"Fuck yeah, I'm a man now. I got my cigars. I got a job. I got an apartment," he reasoned. 

Suddenly, all of those accomplishments seemed to have so much more meaning to him. As if he'd taken them for granted for a long time and now suddenly he was having a new outlook on life. It felt like how others had described going to self help seminars. He liked to go and parrot what other people said so they liked him more and maybe he could network with them. Of course, he almost always inevitably talked down to them about a subject he had little knowledge of. 

OH CADEN, the voice said, returning from out of the blue. DIDN'T YOU THINK PEOPLE WERE TURNED OFF BY YOUR TONE OF VOICE? 

"No, man. People need my input. They appreciate my honesty." 

LIKE THE LAST FEW WOMEN YOU DATED? 

"Yeah, but they were all just a bunch of crazy bitches, man. I keep meetin' em!" 

LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT SOME OF YOUR BEST HITS. 

Caden was watching himself on a date with Carrie-Ann, the pretty girl who sold wine. 

"So all I'm saying is, you should try to do something about your hair. I think it could look really awesome some day." 

HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE THE LOOK ON HER FACE? DISGUST? MAYBE MIXED WITH HORROR? 

"Dude, shut up. She was way worse. She barely talked to me."

BECAUSE YOU'RE AWFUL, CADEN. I MEAN, I'M TRYING TO PUT THIS DELICATELY BUT YOUR CONSTANT COMMENTARY IS OFF PUTTING. YOUR NEGATIVITY IS BOTH ASININE AND CRINGEWORTHY. ONE IS REMINDED OF SEVERAL AUTOMOBILE ACCIDENTS. 

"Alright, alright. That was one bad line." 

WAS IT? 

Caden was watching his date with Gina, the tall Hispanic girl with glossy hair. 

"Oh yeah, I support social justice. Cause like, that's what you gotta do. You gotta support the cause." 

"Yeah, a lot of people don't understand that," Gina said, rather shyly. "A lot of people don't understand why I do what I do. I am an activist because it's not about me, it's about the people who have no voice." 

"Oh totally. But I'm guessing like, you haven't had as much to deal with people discriminating against you because you're not that ugly. Like, you know, you've got some big ears so people probably made fun of those, but like...people made fun of me, too. They're just jealous." 

"Uh...I...what?" 

"I mean, you're not ugly. I would say you could totally model if you lost like, a little bit of weight. The boobs are a little uneven but like, I like that." 

SMOOTH MOVE, CASSANOVA. SHE WAS REALLY SWEPT AWAY BY THAT ONE. 

"Yeah, I was just nervous," Caden excused himself. "I was trying to tell her that she should feel good about herself." 

OH CADEN. SOMETHING TELLS ME YOU AREN'T ALWAYS AS CLUELESS AS YOU LET ON. THERE'S A PART OF YOU THAT REALIZES IT'S ALWAYS YOUR FAULT FOR SAYING THE WRONG THING. REMEMBER THIS GEM?

"So all I'm saying," Caden told his Chinese American date Leah, "Is that Asians are like, the good immigrants. The best immigrants. They don't steal all that much, you know?" 

IT'S LIKE WATCHING THE LOVE MASTER AT WORK.

"I was just trying to make interesting conversation. 

YES, WITH YOUR FAMOUS WIT. LET'S REVIEW THE LAST NETWORKING EVENT YOU WENT TO. 

Suddenly, Caden was watching himself interact with people he had met weeks before. 

"So all I'm saying is, you know, if you're like me, it sounds like you're doing a lot of work in your office but you know, other people take credit for it." 

"I mean, that's not actually what I'm saying," the beautiful young woman of Middle Eastern heritage told him. "I'm just trying to focus on moving on to my next challenge and just, you know, transition into that career." 

"And I mean, you have a unique perspective about the world. So that will probably help you out a lot. And you know, if you need someone who can also have a unique perspective, I have a very unique one. And my job, they don't really appreciate me. It sounds like you're the same, you know, because we're both so good at our jobs, everyone is probably jealous." 

DO YOU SEE THE WAY SHE'S LOOKING AT YOU, CADEN? 

"I'm...not really saying that at all." 

"Hey look, do you want to get out of here? I had a horrible OK Cupid date last night but you're like, way classier and way hotter. I mean, there's a lot of crazy sluts out in the world and..." 

"Okay, I'm just gonna stop you right there. I have to talk to Barry. I promised him I would. Gotta go." The woman nervously excused herself. 

SHE COULDN'T GET AWAY FAST ENOUGH, COWBOY. 

Suddenly, Caden was back on the street. 

"Stupid slut. She probably wanted to fuck him." 

WELL CAN YOU BLAME HER? BARRY IS A MUCH MORE INTERESTING AND ATTRACTIVE MAN THAN YOU. 

"Hey, shut up!" 

YOU WANT TO CHANGE, DON'T YOU, CADEN? YOU WANT TO BE HANDSOME AND LIKEABLE, DON'T YOU? 

"I am likeable," Caden replied defensively. 

THEN WHY DIDN'T SHE LIKE YOU? 

"I dunno." Caden puffed on his cigar. He needed its rich aroma. It made him feel like a king, like a real man. He thought he knew what that felt like but now he was experiencing new emotions. The thrill he felt today of getting all the way to third base. He had never made a home run in his life, either with baseball or women. "I mean, I'm a stud." 

YOU'RE A VIRGIN, CADEN. IT'S ALRIGHT TO SAY IT. 

"Fuck you, Mr. Voice. By the way, it's not a funny joke anymore. I mean, the professional psychologist I used to see would probably not understand that I'm hearing a voice. She would say I'm crazy even though I know I'm totally sane."

WELL THAT MIGHT BE A STRETCH GIVEN YOUR BEHAVIOR, BUT SURE, SHE WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND. I AM REAL, CADEN. IN FACT, I'M MAKING SURE YOU ARE COMFORTABLE TALKING TO ME INSTEAD OF FREAKING OUT. I CAN DO THAT FROM MY ETHEREAL PLANE OF EXISTENCE.

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I am feeling better." 

WOULD YOU LIKE TO FEEL MUCH BETTER? WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE LOTS OF SEX? 

"Hell yes, I would." 

WELL THEN BUCKLE UP, BIG BOY... 

Caden was suddenly watching himself again, another memory, from years before. His hair was darker than he remembered. In fact, even though he knew he was looking at himself, he didn't feel like he was familiar. It felt like he was watching someone else live their life. 

"Dude, bitches are just all over me," Caden said. "I can't get enough sex from these fucking hos." 

"That's what I'm talking about!" one of his friends said. It was a boy from his senior year of high school chem class. "You gotta get that pussy, son! You gotta collect that pussy...gotta catch em all, fool! How many girls have you fucked so far, Caden?" 

"Oh man, I lost count! Seven so far, including Julie and Min. They're like best friends and they both did me on that same night I told you about. It was pretty awesome." 

OH CADEN. ALWAYS THE ROMANTIC. 

"I remember this conversation but I think before it was at school and I wasn't hanging out with these guys. Are you sure this is right?" 

OH IT'S CHANGING SLIGHTLY NOW, BIT BY BIT. I'M REARRANGING THINGS. THOUGH YOU DID SAY THOSE AWFUL THINGS, DIDN'T YOU? 

"I mean..yeah. I just wanted the guys to know that I could get bitches, too!" 

BUT YOU COULDN'T GET THE...AS YOU PUT IT...BITCHES, CADEN. YOU COULDN'T ATTRACT A HORSEFLY WITH MOLASSES, TO PUT IT COLLOQUIALLY. 

"I dunno, man. I didn't grow up on a farm." 

MMMM. MAYBE WE CAN CHANGE THAT. 

"Dude, I don't need this. I have too many things to do. I have important things to do." 

OH I DON'T DOUBT THAT AT ALL. I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE FREE TO BE SO HONEST WITH ME, CADEN. 

"Yeah, man. I'm all about honesty." 

ON THAT POINT, YOU ARE CORRECT. IT'S JUST THAT THE THOUGHTS YOU SHARE ARE SO OFTEN INAPPROPRIATE. 

"Dude, shut up! You sound like my Mom!" 

AH YES, YOUR LONG SUFFERING MOTHER. SHE'S RELIEVED TO GET YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE FINALLY. HER MISERY KNOWS NO BOUNDS. DID YOU KNOW SHE THOUGHT ABOUT PUTTING YOU UP FOR ADOPTION WELL INTO YOUR TEENS? 

"Man, she just didn't realize that I was different but in a positive way. You know?" 

OH CADEN. I'M ALMOST GOING TO MISS THESE SESSIONS OF OURS. YOU'RE ABOUT TO AMUSE ME SO MUCH LESS. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Oh fuck that cigar is good. Huh. Must have dozed off. What a weird fucking dream."  

Caden relaxed. It was a day off from his job as a content mixer and video editor. He didn't make a lot of money doing it, but it was his dream, his passion. He loved film and he was so amazed and relieved that he even got this job. He tried to impress his bosses every day, but it was rough because there was so much competition out there. Still, he thought, inhaling the deep aroma of the maduro in his hands, feeling the magical touch of it fill him with a lightheaded release. He felt like floating away from the world when he smoked cigars. They were such a comfort, and they made him feel so proud to be a man. They made him feel like he had finally arrived. 

In his dream, he'd been a blond. Dirty blond hair. He had been looking into a mirror. The face was familiar but then it felt wrong somehow. It wasn't him. He was dark haired. And his body had been a shambles. Fat rolls in his early 20s? No fucking way. You had to do cardio. He rode his bike to work often so he could burn extra calories. He flexed his arms. He worked out, though not to the degree that he liked. He would like to train more excessively but he was putting in so many hours at work, it made it difficult. He mostly worked out at home with a barbell. 

Caden was thrilled. The day had gone so great. He had hit the ball every time he had been at bat. It hadn't always gone well but he had hit a ball at one point and thought for a minute it was the first time he had ever hit a ball to the outfield. But that couldn't be, with the amount of time he had been playing baseball. It had been since he was at least ten years old. His father didn't know a thing about sports so he had to rely on his coaches and teachers and other kids dads to look up to. To give him guidance. He remembered taking the initiative to asking his coaches for advice and taking it, being very careful to learn from his mistakes and to try to improve upon them. 

"Hey, I feel like celebrating! I think we're gonna really kick butt this year!" 

"Caden, you always say that." 

"Yeah, Caden. We never even make the semi-finals." 

"I think this year we will, guys." Caden's optimism for once was not irritating to his teammates. Many of them were warming up to Caden, even patting him on the back. In the back of his mind he thought it was wrong. They had never had this kind of camaraderie with him before, had they? He had been such a know it all. He frowned. He was remembering his dream where he was a bratty rich kid, some trust fund baby whose parents had money to spare. As if his dad had time to take off from the hardware store he worked to really even hang out with his son growing up. His dad was always stressed out about money, his mother was even worse. 

Caden loved nothing better than to relax with a cigar. Except having sex with hot girls who had a thing for baseball players. Fuck, he thought. This is the life. He rubbed his stubble. Since when do I have stubble? He thought about the mystery stubble. Did he have stubble before? He couldn’t remember having to shave a whole lot but he had been shaving every morning. It was as if something had…taken place.

YES, CADEN. SOMETHING HAS TAKEN PLACE.

“You’re in my head again, man.”

SORRY ABOUT THAT, CADEN. IT’S NECESSARY FOR ME TO GO THROUGH YOUR THOUGHTS.

“Man, I feel like we’ve talked before. I talked with you before, I know I did.”

YES, CADEN. I’M SWITCHING THINGS AROUND. HERE. LET ME JOG YOUR MEMORY A BIT.

Suddenly, Caden remembered his original personality and life, for a brief interval.

“Whoa. What. So…how could I have been that guy?”

YOU TOLD ME WHAT YOU WANTED. REMEMBER?

“Yeah. Yeah. No. I was drunk. What did I wish for?”

OH, CADEN. YOU WANTED TO BE RESPECTED FOR YOUR WORK ETHIC. NOW YOU HAVE ONE. YOU WORK AT A MENIAL HARDWARE STORE JOB.

“Yeah. Thanks? I guess?”

OH I’M HARDLY DONE WITH YOU. NOW THERE IS THE MATTER OF YOUR SCRAWNY BODY. WHY DON’T YOU GO TO THE GYM. IT’S TIME FOR YOU TO GET BIGGER, CADEN.

“Yeah, it is. Time for me to be bigger. I need to look huge. I want everyone to notice me for my body.” He smoked his cigar thoughtfully.

GO TO THE GYM, CADEN. THAT’S AN ORDER. YOU’LL FORGET ABOUT ME NOW UNTIL NEXT TIME. 

The next day, Caden went to the gym as if in a trance. It was a day off for him where he didn’t have to work, though he remembered for some reason that it hadn’t always been like that. He dimly remembered working in an office and being unhappy. Had that been a dream?

He lifted weights that day he had never been able to life before. Doing deadlifts was like some kind of sacred experience. It felt new and yet not new. He felt like he was on autopilot. His body had changed today. He was sure he didn’t have all these muscles yesterday. But that was impossible. Was he walking around just trapped in some perpetual daydream? He felt so foggy headed.

Another thought percolated in the back of his mind, slowly giving him awareness of another fact. He shaved in the morning, but for some reason he had to shave after he got home as well. What the hell kind of genes did he inherit? It had only been four hours. And he could have sworn he shaved this morning but it was thicker than ever when he got back home. He shaved again.

It didn’t feel familiar for some reason. He was desperate to work out some more. It was as if he had never worked out before and he was desperate for the feel of it, the experience of it, going through all the motions as if he had been reborn into a new, better body. He had already worked out this morning but he had to work out again. After going home and eating, he went to the gym that evening. 

Caden had a grueling workout where he maxed out his body as much as he could. He was exhausted. He needed food. He showered, noticing he was one of the only people in the gym this late at night. God, he was hungry. He looked in the mirror. God, he had to shave again. He felt like it was wrong.

I never had to shave before. Something happened. I was blond before. I had a dream where I was blond. Or maybe I was blond. I’m different now. I have to fight this! This isn’t me!

He was seized with a temporary panic that unbeknownst to him is all to common for participants in a reality shift. His mind was aware of how he looked before. He got a mini electric shaver out of his gym bag and did away with the thick stubble that had collected on his face while he had been working out for a second time. A second time in one day? Shouldn’t he be playing Fortnite?

No, that shit was for nerds. I would just be wasting my time, he thought. Man, I’m hungry.

Caden got some food at a Denny’s just down the street. He felt like celebrating for some reason. It felt like everything was changing. It felt like he had momentum. His body was on fire. He wolfed down a late night burger. He was super excited. He had a game tomorrow. Game time! Baseball time! God, he loved baseball. He didn’t remember loving baseball this much. Hadn’t he wanted to play it just to impress people? Imagine going around just being a poseur and getting your parents to get you on the team with a donation like some rich asshole trust fund kid.

Where had that thought come from? He didn’t know anyone like that. He shrugged. Time for a cigar, he thought. 

As Caden smoked his cigar in the parking lot, he felt better than he ever had before.

The stubble grew back insidiously. He could feel it. The harder he pulled on his cigar, the more it grew, like some merciless jungle foliage where no matter how much you hacked at it, there was always more. It covered his face and he felt it. The cigar high permeated his brain. He was on cloud 9. His stubble! God, it felt good to be a man with stubble. Thick stubble he could be proud of. He could grow a beard when he was only 13! God the fun he had had in high school. He used to be able to buy beer at the local corner store because he looked like he was in college by the time he was only a freshman in high school! He was a very popular guy back then. Everyone wanted to be his friend because he could get booze.

But that wasn’t the only reason. He had been so at ease talking with girls. Everyone wanted to be his friend. He knew how to listen to them and joke around at his own expense.

That never happened, he thought. The stubble grew in coarser. He rubbed at its sandpaper like texture. Sure it fucking did, he thought. God, it was so great. I loved listening to people and getting to know them. It’s not like I was better than them. I needed to understand.

Caden felt overcome with a humility he hadn’t felt ever before in his life. It was the humility that comes with not being born with privilege. He had struggled but he had not struggled alone. He always had a coterie of friends that saw him through his formative years. Through thick and thin he always had the same group of people.

Wait…wasn’t I always alone? And I never smoked anything. I thought it was disgusting.

The cigar in his hands was precious and sacred now. It beckoned to him. He drew in the sweet peppery aroma. God, he loved it. He loved being a cigar smoking MAN.

There was a part of him that wondered how he felt so unreal. Was this real? He was handsome, muscular, and a totally athletic stud. Mid 20s with the whole world ahead of him.

He needed more than all this, though.

AND THERE’S ALWAYS A PRICE, CADEN.

“I figured that, Mr. Voice. Are you gonna punish me or something?”

CADEN, CADEN. I’M MAKING YOU BETTER. DO YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO BEING A SNIVELLY, WHINY BRAT? OR DO YOU WANT MORE FOR YOURSELF? I’VE GIVEN YOU A NEW OUTLOOK. IT’S NOT EVERY DAY THAT SOMEONE GETS A COMPLETE REALITY MAKEOVER.

“So what’s next?” Caden said, chomping on his cigar. It felt so good to chomp on a cigar. He had been so jealous of everyone. He had been trapped in a bubble of his own pathetic insular thinking. He had protected himself from the emotions of others by ignoring them altogether. He had insisted on pushing the world away whenever anyone tried to give him advice. “I’m terrible. Oh god, everyone hated me.”

NOT ANYMORE THEY DON’T. ARE YOU READY, CADEN? FOR WHAT COMES NEXT. I’M GOING TO MAKE ALL YOUR DREAMS COME TRUE BUT YOU’LL HAVE TO TRUST ME, CADEN.

“I trust you. Yeah. Let’s do this, Mr. Voice.”

ATTABOY, CADEN. BATTER UP. 

TO BE CONTINUED...