Southern Cross

Dallas lay forlornly on the couch as the TV showed an umpteenth repeat of Spotscenter on ESPN. The floor in front of the couch was littered with empty beer cans and crumbs from breakfast, the coffee table dusty with a haphazard pile of magazines scattered about.

Dallas barely paid attention to the TV, glancing down at his left arm. His pale arms were covered in Celtic tattoos of snakes and a large Celtic cross on both biceps, but on the underside of his left arm was a scar that ran from his elbow to his wrist, the scar reddish pink and almost in a straight line. And I can't get a tattoo there, it'll fuck up my arm again, he thought grimly.

Sportscenter showed the highlights of the Pittsburgh Pirates game against the Washington Nationals, Dallas laughing bitterly to himself. I got cut from the worst team in the majors and they still suck, how's it working out there?, he thought sardonically.

Dallas turned off the TV in disgust and got up from the couch, dumping the beer cans in the garbage. The house was empty and it felt as though everyone else in the neighborhood was at work, the silence unnerving. He popped a breath mint and went back to the living room, pausing in front of a group of framed photographs mounted on the wall. The first one showed him at his high school graduation, proud in his blue gown and mortorboard. His grandma Peggy hugged him and smiled for the camera, her dyed red hair and jangly earrings belying her age. The second showed him after he had pitched his perfect game against the Baltimore Orioles, clad in the green and gold of the Oakland A's and flanked by Peggy and his daughter Josie. The last picture was a team portrait of the A's team that had won the World Series three years ago, a formal shot with the players in their immaculate white, gold and green uniforms.

Yeah, we were a great team. But that was before the surgery, I'm a has-been, he thought bitterly.

His thoughts were interrupted when his phone rang, recognizing the number of his agent Ron Evans. "Dallas, I got very good news", said Ron.

"Dude, the season's over in a week. I don't think teams are that desperate", he joked.

"Dallas, I got an offer from the Perth Heat of the Australian Baseball League, they want to offer you a contract for one year, minimum salary but with lots of incentives. You can make up to $500,000 if you meet the incentives, if you do well maybe you'll get an offer from a team in the states, plus they'll help you find a place to stay", said Ron.

"Wow, I don't know what to say. But I got to speak with Josie", he replied.

"No need, the team says they'll help find a school for her what else you need", said Ron.

"I still got to speak with h er, it's quite a shock. She is a Brady, after all", he chuckled.

"I know, but it's a very good deal. I'll call back later and I'll fax over the contract. Bye", said Ron as he hung up.

Just then, the school bus honked its horn and then the door opened. "Hey Dallas", said Josie as she let herself in.

"Hey Josie, how was school?", he asked.

Josie made a face as she tossed her bag on the couch and kicked off her shoes. She was slim and had her father's red curly hair and green eyes, wearing jeans and a green Flogging Molly tour shirt. "Boring as usual, the boys wouldn't shut up during the movie in science class and I got a math test, that sucks", she muttered.

"I hated school when I was your age, school sucks until you're in college. Josie, how would you like to go to Australia?", he asked with a grin.

"What? But I have school", she said, puzzled.

"Ron just called, I got an offer to play for the Perth Heat in the Australian Baseball League, it's a good contract and I can earn some good money. They're gong to help me find a place and they can help you find a school if I want. What do you say?", he asked.

"Whoa, awesome. Go for it, Dallas, it's not good for you to stay home and drink beer", said Josie matter-of-factly.

"You're too smart for a ten-year old, Josephine Brady. When Ron calls, he's going to fax over the contract", he replied.

"Awesome. Dallas, maybe you can find a girlfriend, you can't be a bachelor forever", she chided.

"An ugly guy like me doesn't get many chicks, plus smoking hot Aussie girls won't give me the time of day. It's just you and me, Josie", said Dallas.

Josie gave her father a hug. "Dallas, Miss Peggy wouldn't want you to be single forever. It can't be much fun being a bachelor", she said.

"Remind me of that when you start dating. I'll get the shotgun out", he teased as she playfully flipped him off.