The Bull in Left Field

Marcus was sprinting across the parking lot, his cleats slamming against the pavement. He was officially running late—again. Coach was gonna kill him.

"Where's your hat?" Jenna called out, leaning against the dugout fence. She wore hers backward, chunk of blonde hair spilling out. Always together, always perfect.

"Forgot it," Marcus lied, adjusting the oversized vitamin D supplement bottle in his pocket. His mom had made him promise to take it after lunch, claiming he never saw sunlight anymore. He hadn't. Between baseball practice and studying for AP Bio, his skin had practically turned translucent.

The team was already warming up when Marcus jogged onto the field. "Benson!" Coach barked. "You're benched first inning."

Marcus groaned but took his place in the lineup. He hated baseball—hated the smell of pine tar and the pressure and the way his dad watched every game from behind the backstop with that disappointed squint. But he played because that's what you did. You played.

Fourth inning, something caught his eye past the left field fence. Behind the abandoned barn, through the overgrown fence line—a massive bull was just standing there, staring at him.

Marcus froze. The bull chewed slowly, unconcerned. It had to be from the Peterson farm down the road.

"What are you looking at?" Jenna asked, trotting past him between pitches.

"Bull," Marcus whispered, pointing.

Jenna followed his gaze and gasped. "That thing is huge."

The bull took a step toward the fence, then another. The old wood groaned.

"Should we tell someone?" Jenna asked.

Marcus looked at the dugout where Coach was screaming at the umpire. He looked at his dad, still watching, still waiting. He looked at the bull, wild and uncontained and ridiculous.

"No," Marcus said. "Hey, watch this."

He pulled the vitamin bottle from his pocket, popped the cap, and scattered the orange tablets across the grass like breadcrumbs. The bull's ears perked up.

"You just wasted thirty dollars," Jenna laughed.

"Maybe he needs his nutrients too."

The bull snorted and crunched down on a vitamin. Marcus started cracking up, and then Jenna was too, both of them bent over in the middle of the inning while the game continued behind them. It was the stupidest thing he'd ever done.

"You're crazy," Jenna said, wiping her eyes.

"Yeah," Marcus grinned, feeling lighter than he had in months. "Yeah, I guess I am."

The bull swallowed, chewed, and stared back like it knew something they didn't. Maybe it did. Maybe you didn't have to play the game you were handed. Maybe you could just eat a vitamin and stand there and be wrong in all the right ways.

"Nice catch, Benson!" someone yelled from the infield.

Marcus didn't turn around. He stood there with Jenna, watching the bull finish its snack, finally feeling like himself.