“Hmm. You’re willing to do this so you can pitch for one day? What happens next week, when you’re supposed to be back to pitching full-time? Your ankle won’t be a hundred percent in seven days. There will not be a miracle healing here. Frankly, this stunt may wreck you for the season if you’re not careful.”

“What do you care? I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I wanna get through tomorrow. Can you do it? Can you help me?”

“I’ll have to check my drug room, make sure I have the right supplies. I’ll be back—”

Duke cringed when his father grabbed the doctor’s arm. He felt like a little kid, watching a parent about to get in a fight with the principal. He remained mute, however, as Willis said, “Uh-huh. I’ll come with you. So’s you don’t make any calls.”

“Hmph. You’re not dealing with a hooligan. I stick to my word. Besides, I signed your little form.”

The doctor pushed his way out. Willis stubbornly followed.

Suddenly alone in a quiet, cramped room, Duke glowered at his ankle. It looked fine. It wasn’t even swollen. Am I sure this is what I wanna do? I could just tell the truth. He went back and forth in his head but was repeatedly blocked by the knowledge that if he took the high road and walked out without dampening the pain, he risked losing his job tomorrow, and his house and his lifestyle and his career prospects soon thereafter. He was trapped.

The two men returned. The doctor handed him a vial and a syringe. “Your father can administer the shot directly in your ankle”—he touched a spot behind the knob on Duke’s ankle—“the morning of your meeting. It’s similar to a steroid but undetectable.” The gaunt man removed a prescription bottle from his pocket. “This is a painkiller that should numb the residual pain without making you woozy—though no promises. Everyone reacts differently. However, it is acetaminophen-based, so it won’t show up on a tox screen.” He scratched his head. “Hmm. Well, heavy usage can create a false positive for cannabis, but that’s a very slim chance. Don’t use it until tomorrow. It won’t have time to build up in your liver.”

A blinding headache crashed over Duke, paralyzing his thoughts. He paled.

Willis nodded to his son, misreading his response. He said, “I can do it. No worries.” His father was so sure of himself, like for him there was no other course of action. The assurances of a gambler and a cheat didn’t quell Duke’s doubts, however.