That's What I Thought Too

"I've noticed that some kids seem very comfortable around me. Perhaps that makes a difference for Roger."

"Roger, lets you and I hold hands and look at each other. Your mom is going to ask you some questions."

By the end of the tenth question, and Roger's answer, Marie's tears of joy overcame her.

"Marie, this is the tough part. Finding a way for Roger to answer these questions without me holding his hands, so to speak. I'll leave the room and you try a few questions."

Unfortunately Roger immediately locked up. He had to be panicked. Wanting to communicate but unable.

"Marie, give Roger a pencil and paper. See if he can write his answer."

Writing wasn't any easier for Roger than speaking. I worked with Roger for another hour before making my exit. Marie agreed to meet me again the next night at 5 pm.

+ + + +

I spent the next day talking with my professors. I only told them that Roger would occasionally answer questions. One of them said something about triggering responses. It hit me on my way over to Marie's apartment. Pavlov. I needed to see if I could get Roger to respond to an audible trigger.

"Roger, I'm going to say a word and snap my finger when it's time for you to answer. Do you understand?"

I snapped my fingers, said 'Choose' softly, and thought 'CHOOSE!'

"Yes."

"Very good Roger. I have four crayons here. Red, Green, Blue, and Yellow. Tell me which color your mom is holding up."

We did twenty in a row without pausing. Marie's nipples were poking holes in her bra. The mist in her eyes made them twinkle.

"Take a drink of water and we will do another round."

The telly was on and a fast food commercial, one that I was a spokesperson for, was playing.

"Roger look. Brent is on the telly" Marie shouted as she pointed to the screen. Roger did a double take.

"Ready to get back to work?"

This round was a little tougher on Marie. Every once in a while I wouldn't think 'CHOOSE!' and each of those failed. I was undaunted. We had been doing this for about two hours when I was rewarded with my breakthrough moment. It was a Yellow crayon and, even though I did snap my finger, I hadn't thought 'CHOOSE'. Roger said 'Yellow'.

Marie was confused by my excitement. That was the only time that evening. Marie asked me to stay after Roger went to bed.

"I need to pay you but I don't have money. Do you have a wife or a steady?"

"You don't need to pay me. I'm working on my child psychology skills. And no, I once had a fiancé' but nothing serious since."

"I'm so excited about the progress Roger is making. I know I don't NEED to pay you. I WANT to pay you and hope you will let me someday."

"Okay. Someday. Not today. Let me make a difference in Roger's life first."

I received a cock groping hug and a long moist kiss "Thank you Brent. Good luck in your game tomorrow. I'm a big fan."

On Monday I arrived at Marie's apartment and found another lady waiting with her.

"Brent, this is Rachel. Her daughter, Emma, has a similar problem."

As she extended her hand I inhaled her perfume "Nice to meet you Rachel. I'll warn you ahead of time that only about one in three kids feel comfortable around me."

Another woman with a smile morphing into fear "How long does it take for you to know?"

"Not long. Where is she?"

"Parked in front of the telly. Let me introduce you."

"Emma, this is Brent. He's going to ask you a few questions."

Emma looked at me and I thought 'Blink'. Emma and Rachel both blinked.

I stalled about thirty seconds, for theatrical effect, and then "Early indications are good."

Rachel was beaming. I might as well go for broke.

"Emma, how old are you?"

I thought 'CHOOSE!'

"Almost five."

Rachel gasped and both of her hands covered her mouth.

"Rachel, how about we let Emma watch the telly while I work with Roger. You can watch us. We need to set up a time to work with Emma."

Rachel looked like a bobble head doll.

+ + + +

Day after day I worked with both Roger and Emma. Roger was the first to make the connection. We were about an hour into the crayons when Roger didn't need my thinking trigger. It was soon thereafter that Roger was completely off of my influence. I removed the spoken word and Roger continue to flourish. Even with tears streaming down her face Marie was able to get responses with a snap of her fingers.

Once Rachel and Emma left "Stay here while I put Roger to bed."

Marie returned wearing a robe. We remained quiet as she led me into her bedroom. Her robe sank to the floor and I enjoyed the beautiful sight. My sweats joined the robe and Marie sucked me to my first orgasm. I licked her already soaked pussy and she tried, but failed, to muffle her orgasm. I tried to talk while we rested.

"You didn't need..." but Marie put her hand on my mouth.

"Shush. I know. Do you have a condom?"

"Duh, I play professional cricket. Let me put one on."

It had been a few days since I'd had sex. I was ready rather quickly for the first few positions. I finally ran out of steam around midnight. After dressing I was sent on my way with a bone crushing hug. The matching kiss told me I had made a difference. If you want to know what it feels like to have a woman dedicate herself to pleasing you, cure her ailing child.

+ + + +

Roger continued to thrive. Emma followed Roger's timeline for success. I was having sex with Marie once a week and Rachel almost as often. My cricket stats, since I started working with the kids, were well above average.

The coup de grâce for Roger's ailment was when we taught him to snap his fingers. He was old enough to understand that if he started to panic, while trying to decide, he only needed to snap his fingers quietly. Marie was at the ready if Roger hesitated, but soon enough Roger was on his own.

We returned to the same diner for dinner.

"Juice or milk Roger?"

Roger quietly snapped his fingers "Juice please."

"What would you like to eat?"

Roger quietly snapped his fingers "Pancakes please."

Roger was proud of himself and he should be. Marie thanks me every once in a while. She calls me. I didn't think it would be proper for me to come calling.

Emma was about two weeks behind Roger's pace but we shared the same dining experience when she reached her zenith. Roger's transformation took seven weeks and Emma took eight weeks. I knew I had a talent but didn't know how I could attract more kids. Rachel solved that for me. She's a production assistant at the local television station. Rachel convinced them to do a little two minute feel good piece about Emma and Roger. The reporter called it Snap therapy.

+ + + +

I had a home cricket game the day after the television piece aired. I was naive. There were parents holding up their kids with signs 'Brent! Please help us!'

The general manager pulled me aside "We have a problem Brent. Our switchboard has been swamped with people wanting to get in touch with you. How do you want to handle this?"

"Can you hire a temp and have them copy down contact information for everyone trying to reach me? I'll pay for the temp. Sorry. I didn't realize the stir this would cause."

There was a text from Steph after my game. The broadcast of the game included the two minute bit about me.

"I saw your Snap story. You're amazing sweetie! All my love. Keep it up! I need to talk to you about something. I'll try to find a time that works."

My happiness was joined with a searing pain in my heart. I still loved her.

+ + + +

Sadly, many of the parents wanting my help had children with other afflictions. Those that seemed to have the same problem as Roger and Emma were divided about the same as the general population. I could only interact with one in three.

I chose my patients carefully. After some very painful talks, with the parents of children who didn't blink, I resorted to deceit. I would hook up a monitor and watch the squiggly lines for a minute before telling the parents that their child wasn't a candidate. As much as I wanted to cure every child, I could only deal with kids who blinked on command.

I started wait listing those whose mothers wouldn't blink. Well maybe not all of them. Some of those unmarried mothers made it worth my time to accept their child into my program. Since the mothers wouldn't blink, it was all natural, and they made a very compelling case.

Since I was unlicensed I didn't charge for my services. The new endorsements, that the two minute piece attracted, more than compensated me for my time. I had a full time assistant who waded through the constant influx of requests.

The biggest thing I had to deal with was the disappointment displayed by the parents of the unchosen. All of these parents are desperate for something to save their child. It had to hurt, seeing others emerging from darkness, and then having to deal with being denied treatment for your own child. I felt like the lowest form of life at times.

I was working with several children every day. My nights were a blur. Between the cricket groupies and the appreciative mothers I was in sex heaven.

+ + + +

"Brent Loane?"

I looked over to see a heavy set man peering out of the backseat window of a black limo. I figured it was an autograph seeker.

"Yes sir. How can I help you?"

"I have an offer which I doubt you can refuse. Do you have a few minutes to allow me to change your life?"

I was intrigued. He definitely had my attention.

I pointed past the statues "I'm game. Meet me at that park bench over there."

I watched a couple with two children march towards me.

"Brent, my name is William Spearmint. This is my wife Leslie. These are my five year old twins Ryan and Nolan."

I shook the hands of the couple. He was easily twenty years older than her. I thought 'Blink' with each handshake. He did, she didn't. The kids were zombies.

"If you can help my kids I'm prepared to make you a rich man and make some of your dreams come true."

"William, I wish it was that easy. I only seem to be able to make about one in three kids relax enough to break through."

"How long do you need to make that determination?"

"Not long. Just warning you that you may have wasted your time. Let me take them aside one at a time."

I sat about twenty feet from the group. Leslie walked Ryan over. I extended my hands and held Ryan's hands. 'Blink' was rewarded with one.

"Ryan how old are you?"

"Ryan how old are you?"

I thought 'CHOOSE!'

"Five."

Leslie gasped then "Let me get Nolan"

She took rapid little steps with Ryan and tugged Nolan over at a fairly quick pace. I extended my hands and held Nolan's hands. 'Blink' was rewarded with one.

"Nolan how old are you?"

"Nolan how old are you?"

I thought 'CHOOSE!'

"Five."

Leslie let her feelings known "YES!"

"Let's talk."

After we were a group again "I think I can work with both of your children. Tell me more about their condition and your offer."

"The kids were just fine until about a year ago. Slowly each of them entered this shell where they would listen and follow requests but wouldn't talk anymore."

"That's encouraging. My successful patients match that description. What's your offer?"

"We are prepared to pay you two million dollars per child if you can perform your magic with them. Also, I own the Texas Rangers. I don't know if you are following baseball this season but we have a twelve game lead. I've already acquired your rights. We've got time to get you into AAA and then I can add you to our roster for post season play. You might not get to play defense but I will make sure you get to pinch run and, if you deserve a chance, to pinch hit. I'm prepared to give you a half million dollar signing bonus."

Where do I sign was rushing through my veins but I tried to remain calm "What about my cricket contract?"

"If you decide to accept my offer, I've already worked out an arrangement with the team and your agent."

My kids jumped to the forefront "As much as I'd like to accept your offer, I have four kids I'm currently working with. I can't just walk away from them."

"Your coach warned me you were that kind of guy. Your word is your bond. I'm prepared to fly them and their families to the states with you. You can continue to work with them until they graduate."

My head was spinning. I needed to consult the smartest person I knew.

"Let me get back to you. I have to talk this over. How can I get in touch with you?"

We exchanged contact info and I sent Steph a text 'I need to talk to the smartest person I know. ASAP!'

Twenty minutes later Steph had my head screwed on straight. She indicated she had something important she needed to talk with me about. I called for a pow-wow with William. He sent a limo to pick me up.

"William and Leslie. I accept your offer however it is contingent upon ALL of my current projects coming with me. I won't jeopardize them by disrupting what we've already achieved. Do what you need to do to convince them to join me."

They didn't bat an eye. We shook and parted ways. The paperwork and confirming phone calls happened quickly. I worked one time with Ryan and Nolan before they left for the states.

+ + + +

William and Leslie followed through on all of their promises. I signed my Rangers contract and was assigned to the AAA Round Rock Express in Round Rock Texas.

My London kids were sent back at a rate of approximately one per week. Snap therapy was successful again and again. Ryan and Nolan were making progress.

I played eight games for the Express before being called up. My AAA stats were that I batted three seventy five with an eight hundred slugging percentage. I had one throwing error.

Once in the Ranger's dugout, I took some hurtful smack talk from the old timers. Some of the coaches and assistants didn't much care for the owner jerking their strings.

Ryan and Nolan were in the early stages of emerging. They were progressing, but at a slightly slower rate than Roger and Emma had achieved. But, progress is progress. Leslie was a nervous wreck. She desperately wanted this to work.

I followed the British press and my former team. I was painted as a deserter. Rightfully so, but they didn't know the details.

Sitting on the Ranger's bench, I pinch ran a few times before finally getting a chance to hit. The Rangers had the best record in the American League so they would be home team throughout. After sweeping the Division series they started to struggle.

The first four games of the league championship were split. I was a pinch runner in games two and three and I scored once. I got a pinch hit single in game five.

The series extended to game seven. It was a very pleasant Sunday night. We were at home and rallied to tie in the eighth. The crowd grew eerily quiet when we gave up a solo shot in the top of the tenth.

There was one out in the bottom of the tenth, with a runner on second, when the coach yelled across the dugout "Loane, grab a helmet."

Coach had spent most of his pinch hitters earlier in the game. Since being called up, I was three for nine in pinch hit situations. All three hits, a single double and home run, were on hit and run calls.

Since there was one out they could have intentionally walked me to put on the possibility of a double play. They decided to take their chances against the rookie. All three of my hits were to the left field side so they had a major shift on.

Since I signed with the Rangers, every at bat I always stood there thinking 'FASTBALL'. There were many times the catcher would call time out to go talk with the pitcher. At least I was creating conflict amongst them.

My first pitch was a brushback. I just smiled at the pitcher. Ball one. The next pitch was low and out but called a strike. The next pitch, same location, was called a ball. I jacked an inside pitch into the upper deck, foul. Two balls, two strikes. I increased the number and intensity of thinking 'FASTBALL'. My team's research on this pitcher indicated that when he shook off a pitch, and the batter had two strikes, chances were that he'd try a changeup. When the pitcher shook off the sign, I was ready. This situation certainly didn't call for a hit and run, but given my history, that's the signal I was given, even with a two strike count.

The pitch was horrible but it looked like a half-volley cherry to me. It bounced fifteen feet in front of the plate on the first base side. It couldn't have looked more like a cricket delivery. Instinctively I took the chance. Dropping my right knee to within a few inched of the ground I strode out slightly with my left leg. Pushing my hands in front of my body and I gave my best cricket swing and hit a textbook cut shot to the right field corner. Fair ball. The runner on second scored easily. I thought they'd hold me at third but the coach was windmilling me home.

I'll always wonder what kind of career I might have had if I'd been practicing my slides. I beat the throw by a split second. I touched home as the catchers kneepad pinned my foot to the plate. The throw was high and the catcher was attempting to block the plate so he could apply the tag. No replay was needed as the ball tipped off of his glove towards the backstop. The pain was excruciating as I accordioned into the catcher. The roar of the crowd told me it was an inside the park home run. We had a walk off victory and were headed to the World Series.

I know my teammates were excited, but whoever tried to lift me up was rewarded with my cry of anguish as loud as the cheering crowd. He dropped me and I repeated my screams.

After my screams subsided a calm came over me. I figured I was in shock. I felt the ground vibrate and heard the crowd. They were stomping, stomping, and then screaming 'Brent'. Thump, thump, 'Brent'. Thump, thump, 'Brent'. Over and over again.

"Nobody is leaving until they know you are going to be okay Brent" coach told me.

Waiting for the ambulance I looked around and saw some of my teammates mimicking my cricket swing. For whatever reason that made me smile.

Once secured on the stretcher I asked my teammates to raise me high in the air. I waved at the crowd. The roar was priceless. Our trainer rode to the hospital with me. William and Leslie met me when I was pulled from the ambulance.

"I got a bargain son. Well done."

"You got rewarded for thinking outside the box Mr. Spearmint."

"It's always William to you Brent. Let's get you fixed up. We've got a game on Tuesday."

+ + + +

There was a lot of hustle and bustle and I got more than my fair share of high fives and hugs. They prepped me for surgery.

I met the surgeon "Ready to get started champ?"

I just nodded.

"Count backwards from ninety nine" from the stoic anesthesiologist.

"Ninety nine, ninety eight" is all I remember.

In the morning I awoke to the sounds of pumps and beeps. A few nurses were busy doing whatever nurses do. Two of them, Jolene and Paula, blinked on request. Even in my condition I had some morning wood. I thought 'Suck cock' over and over.

When the nurses discovered I was awake they summoned my doctor, Stan Edwards.

"Brent, welcome back to the living. Just kidding, things went smoothly. The nurses will go over all of your injuries with you. During surgery we noticed some unusual brain activity on the EEG. I've ordered a few more tests today. Have you ever had a concussion?"

"I've been hit by so many pitches I've lost count. More than a few have dented helmets. That being said, I don't think I've ever been unconscious though."

"We've put more than a few screws and plates in that leg. Later today we're going to reconstruct your ankle. Tomorrow we will try to fix your ACL and MCL. I doubt you will ever play again."

I watched the play a few times that day. It was on every newscast. In his attempt to prevent the run, the catcher was simply bracing himself for a collision. The right fielder had fumbled picking up the ball which is why I was sent home. My slide took me into the meat of the plate instead of the outside edge. A rare, but career ending, injury. None of my ankle or knee ligaments survived. I had several fractures in my ankle and foot and a completely shattered tibia.