Full of Surprises
When thirteen-year-old Judd Waller moved from Oklahoma to New York, he felt as though he were crossing an unknown barrier that separated the "normal" life he had led on the farm from the surreal world of the city.
On his first day of high school, Judd felt the sting of his peer's ridicule. Wearing his snakeskin boots and cowboy hat, he created quite a sensation in a crowd that wore sneakers and baseball caps. As the new kid walked down the hall to his locker and then to homeroom, he was greeted by comments such as Hey Tex, where'd you park your horse? Well, lookee what we got here: an honest-to-goodness cowboy. You know you're a redneck when you go to school dressed like Roy Rogers.
At first, these taunts didn't bother Judd; he simply shrugged them off good-naturedly. By seventh period, however, he had grown tired of the same tedious comments and sullenly turned his head away from his hecklers. The following day he went to school sans hat and boots, but the dye had already been cast, and Judd Waller was pegged and ostracized as a redneck for the next four years.
Being an outsider did have one advantage, however. Since he didn't hang out with friends or date girls, Judd spent three years at the batting cages, perfecting his swing. He became so adept at hitting that in his senior year, he decided to try out for the varsity baseball team.
Marcus Pender, the team's ace pitcher, laughed when he saw the Oklahoma boy step up to the plate for the first time.
"Well, if it ain't the Okie from Muskogee," he mocked loudly so all his teammates could hear. "I think you got your spurs crossed, cowpoke. This isn't a tryout for the Texas Rangers."
Ignoring his pitcher's comments, the team's coach walked to the mound with a bag of baseballs slung over his shoulder.
"Let's see what you got, kid," he said, throwing a pitch over the plate.
On his first swing, Judd hit the ball over the bleachers in right field. The second ball went in the same general direction, but about ten feet further.
"Hey, coach," Marcus called from the dugout. "Why don't you let me throw a few pitches and see if he can hit them?"
"Is that okay with you?" the coach asked the young man in the batter's box.
"Sure thing, sir. I reckon I can hit whatever he throws over the plate."
"Is that so, cowboy?" Pender said as he took the baseball from the older man. "Well, I reckon you haven't heard that I had the lowest earned run average and the greatest number of strikeouts in our league last year."
Judd hit Pender's first pitch deep into left field. Had it been an actual game, the hit would have meant extra bases.
"Is that so?" the batter replied to the cocky pitcher. "Maybe you need a little work before the start of this season."
Marcus threw him a mix of fastballs, changeups and breaking balls but couldn't get the kid from Oklahoma to strike out.
"I've seen enough," the coach declared, impressed by Judd's hitting prowess. "You made the team, kid. Pick up a uniform in the locker room."
That year Judd Waller's school finished second in the state play-offs. They would have finished first had their fielding been as good as their hitting and pitching. Still, despite his team's finishing in the number two spot, Judd drew a great deal of media attention. Word of his record-setting .487 batting average reached major league scouts. The day after graduation, Waller signed with the New York Yankees.
After spending two years in the organization's farm system, he was called up from Scranton/Wilkes-Barre and made his debut in Yankee Stadium when the regular left fielder pulled a hamstring and was put on the disabled list. In his first game in the majors, the rookie hit two singles, a double and a home run. Needless to say, he never returned to the minor leagues.
His successful career notwithstanding, Judd still battled with low self-esteem after his four years in high school had left him with a deep-rooted inferiority complex. Ironically, when he returned home to Oklahoma for visits with his relatives and boyhood friends, he still felt like an outcast since he was constantly kidded about having acquired "fancy, city-slicker" ways.
Judd was so unsure of himself that when he met Gwen Jameson, he never realized she was interested in him.
"That TV sports commentator seems to have a thing for you," Bucky Martell, one of his fellow rookies commented one day as the two men sat in the dugout, waiting for their turn at bat.
"Gwen Jameson has a thing for me? Yeah, right."
"Don't you see the way she's always looking at you?"
"It's your imagination, Buck," the shy ballplayer replied.
"Like hell it is. If she looked at me like that, I'd make a move fast, before someone else does."
"Come on, what would she see in me? Just look at her. Besides being gorgeous, she has got a college education and a good job with the television station."
"And what about you?" Bucky asked. "You're a good-looking, amiable sort of fellow, a professional athlete pulling in a six-figure salary, and if you keep playing the way you do, you'll be making a hell of a lot more. Course, I don't think she's interested in your money."
Judd was saved the necessity of having to respond to his teammate's comments when Martell left the dug-out to wait in the on-deck circle. His observations, however, stuck in Waller's mind. When he turned in Gwen's direction, she looked over at him and smiled. The Yankee slugger felt his face redden as he smiled back. Maybe he ought to ask her out, he thought. The worst that could happen was that she would turn him down.
* * *
To no one's surprise but Judd's, the beautiful commentator not only agreed to a date, but fourteen months after that first date, she accepted his marriage proposal. At the end of his third complete year with the Yankees, the couple married. It was a big wedding with a guest list that included not only family, friends and Gwen's television coworkers but also some of the most famous names in baseball.
Once he was married to Gwen, Judd finally began to gain some much-needed self-confidence. From time to time, he thought of the students who had made fun of him back in high school. How many of them, he wondered, were married to beautiful, educated, professional women? And what about Marcus Pender, his high school team's star pitcher? The last Judd had heard his former teammate worked as a bus driver in Jersey City.
I wonder what he thinks about the Okie from Muskogee being on the New York Yankees roster.
Judd's was indeed an impressive career, one many people—not just Marcus Pender—would envy. In his fourth year in the majors, he was signed to a three-year, twenty-five-million dollar contract.
"That's more money than I ever dreamed I'd make," he exclaimed when he and his wife went out to dinner to celebrate his re-signing with the Bronx Bombers.
"You're worth every penny," Gwen declared. "You won Rookie of the Year. In your second season, you won the American League batting championship. Last year you led the league in hits and home runs. I'm sure there's an MVP award in your future. If you continue to keep playing like you do, you'll wind up in Cooperstown, along with Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle. I can even see the Yankees retiring your number and giving you a plaque in Monument Park."
"Whoa! As we used to say back on the farm, don't count your chickens before they hatch."
"Actually, dear, I think it was Aesop who said that."
"Is he from Oklahoma?" Judd asked with a laugh. "Anyway, regardless of who said it, it's true. Just because I've had three good years doesn't mean I'm on my way to the Hall of Fame. Anything can happen."
"I have faith in you," Gwen persisted. "I can see you breaking more than one major league hitting record before you hang up your cleats."
* * *
For the next three years, Judd Waller continued to live up to everyone's expectations. Not only did he make the All-Star Team all three years, but he was consistently in the top five leaders in all hitting categories. He was also considered one of the best offensive outfielders in the game. As a result of his outstanding performance, when his existing contract was up, the Yankees made him an even more generous offer than they had the previous time.
"I still think you should have declared yourself a free agent," Gwen said.
"Why? I like playing for New York," her husband disagreed.
"If for no other reason, you could have gotten more money out of the owners."
"How much money do you think we need?"
"Oh, Judd!" Gwen laughed. "Even after living in the city all these years, you're still an Oklahoma farm boy at heart."
Although her observation was made as a loving jest, it awakened the sleeping monster of self-doubt in her husband.
She's right, he thought morosely. All my money and success as a ballplayer won't change what I am: just an Okie from Muskogee.
And unlike Merle Haggard, Judd didn't feel like singing about how proud he was to be one.
* * *
That innocent conversation caused a diminutive but definite rift in the couple's marriage, one so small that Gwen was completely unaware of its existence. In her mind, she and her husband could not be any happier. However, Judd was on his guard, always anticipating another blow to his fragile ego.
When, on their fifth wedding anniversary, he broached the subject of starting a family, Gwen vetoed the idea.
"What's the rush? We're both young yet," she argued. "We have plenty of time to think about parenthood. Right now, I want to concentrate on my career goals."
"You can have a baby and a job, too. A lot of women do."
"I'm not talking about remaining a television sports commentator. I want someday to become the first woman to head a major network sports division. It's my dream. To me, it's like going from the minors to the majors."
"And if you do get to the top, then what?" Judd asked. "Are you going to decide to quit and have a baby?"
"No. I have no plans of ever quitting," his wife admitted honestly. "The position I'm after requires one hundred percent commitment."
"Which leaves no time for a family."
"I'm sorry, but I'm just not the stay-at-home-mom type. I suppose we should have discussed this before we got married."
Again, there had been no implied criticism in Gwen's statement, but her husband read more into it than what was said. To Judd, her words meant that she regretted having married him.
When he went to the ballpark the next day, he struck out all four times at bat against the White Sox—a first in his career. In the next five games, he got only one hit, a little blooper that dropped between the shortstop and third baseman.
With the Yankees in the thick of a pennant race, the fans, manager, coaches and team members were all concerned by his apparent slump. However, no one was as troubled by Judd's poor performance at the plate as his wife.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should get a check-up."
"I'm fine," he replied. "Just a little tired."
"Then ask your manager for a day off. Or, better yet, ask him to let you DH for a while. At least you won't have to chase down fly balls and line drives in this heat."
"I'll be all right. Don't worry so much."
Despite her husband's assurances, Gwen couldn't help worrying, and not just about Judd's decreasing batting average. Since their conversation about starting a family, he seemed to distance himself from her. Being married to a baseball player, she had gotten used to having her husband on the road for half the season, but when he was home he had always been attentive. Lately, however, his ardor had cooled.
We were so happy! she thought with mounting frustration. I know this is all about my not wanting to have a baby. He can have a career; why can't I? Why should I have to devote my life to changing diapers and attending PTA meetings just because I'm a woman?
It suddenly occurred to Gwen that her decision would have a profound effect on the rest of her life. What if she continued to pursue a career, only to lose her husband? Did she want to wake up some morning in an empty bed and find herself a middle-aged woman desperately holding on to a job that younger and hungrier journalists would do anything to wrest from her? Ironically, she actually enjoyed being a sports commentator. Why shouldn't she stop reaching for the top and settle for being happy in the middle? If she did, she could have it all: a career she enjoyed, a husband she loved and a family.
With the Yankees heading to the West Coast on an extended road trip, Gwen had time to think about her decision.
* * *
"Welcome home," Gwen cried when Judd came through the door of their Franklin Lakes, New Jersey, home after the conclusion of the road trip. "I see you've gotten out of your slump."
"Yeah, but I'm still not hitting like I used to. It's like I told you, we shouldn't count our ...."
Gwen's cell phone rang, and when his wife answered, Judd headed toward the kitchen to get himself a cold beer.
"I can't talk right now," Gwen said in a hushed voice, unaware that her husband could overhear her in the next room. "He's just come home. I'll see you tomorrow at work. We can talk about this at lunch."
"Who was that?" Judd asked when he returned to the living room with a bottle of Sam Adams in hand.
"Oh, just one of the college interns the station hired. He's got a million questions and calls me all the time."
It was a plausible explanation, but because his wife refused to look him in the eye, Judd assumed she was lying.
Why would she lie about a phone call? he wondered.
The answer was fairly obvious: it was another man on the phone. This realization only created more painful questions in his mind. Was she having an affair? If so, how long had it been going on? And then there was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question: who was he?
Judd replayed his wife's phone conversation in his mind. One sentence stood among the others: "I'll see you tomorrow at work." The other man was someone Gwen worked with, and he seriously doubted it was a college intern.
* * *
Judd hardly slept that night. His mind tortured him with visions of his wife in another man's arms. By four in the morning, he grew tired of tossing and turning, so he got up from bed and went to the walk-in closet. In his suitcase was a bottle of Melatonin, which he took to help him sleep whenever he traveled to the West Coast.
What if she isn't having an affair? he wondered, looking at his reflection in the full-length mirror. What if the phone call really was work-related? I ought to give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, I'd expect her to do the same for me if the situation were reversed.
But how was he to learn the truth? He could not simply ask her if she had been unfaithful to him. He momentarily considered hiring a private detective, but that seemed like such a dramatic step. No, he would prefer to learn the truth himself.
The next morning, despite his lack of sleep, Judd rose early and had breakfast with his wife.
"I don't have a game today," he reminded her. "Why don't you and I go to the shore and relax on the beach?"
"I can't today," Gwen replied, seeming genuinely disappointed. "I have an important lunch meeting that I can't reschedule."
Judd had overheard her make arrangements to have lunch with the person who phoned the previous evening, the one she said was a college intern at the television network.
"Who's it with?" he asked, pretending to have only a casual interest in the answer.
She did not immediately respond; could it be she was thinking of a credible lie?
"Is it with the intern who phoned last night?" he prompted.
Gwen laughed.
"God, no. Commentators don't lunch with interns. That would be like you hanging out with the bat boy at Yankee Stadium."
"Who then?" he persisted.
"With my boss. My contract is almost up, and we have to go through the whole performance review song and dance routine."
"Good luck," Judd said, smiling warmly.
Despite his pleasant exterior, on the inside his emotions were in turmoil since he knew full well that his wife had another two years on her existing contract.
* * *
Not long after Gwen's Lexus pulled out of the driveway, Judd left the house himself. He drove to the nearest Salvation Army Thrift Store where he bought a pair of old jeans, a faded T-shirt, well-worn sneakers and a pair of dark glasses.
"No one will know it's me," he said, topping his disguise off with a Mets baseball cap.
He then drove to Manhattan. At eleven o'clock, he bought a Daily News from a street vendor and stood outside his wife's office building, pretending to read. After waiting for more than an hour, he at last saw her and another man emerge from the building and hail a taxi. Judd was standing close enough to the couple to hear the instructions the man gave the driver. The two were headed to a Thai restaurant on Ninth Avenue.
Judd waited until his wife's cab was out of sight before hailing his own and heading toward the same restaurant. Thankfully, it was a small place, and he had a good view of his wife's table. The waiter came around, and he ordered the first thing he saw on the menu, not even knowing what it was he ordered. When he got his food, he ate it mechanically, all the while staring at the couple seated at the other side of the room from behind his dark glasses.
If they were having an affair, they were not being obvious about it. They were not holding hands and not sitting close together to share intimidate conversation, nor did they gaze lovingly into each other's eyes.
Judd took his phone out of his pocket, and while pretending to send a text message, he snapped a photograph of the man with his wife. Then he watched their every move as the man paid the bill and the couple walked outside and got into another taxi.
When he got back to Franklin Lakes, Judd tossed his second-hand clothing into the trash and went to the television network's website where the names and photographs of many of its employees were on display.
"Bingo!" he exclaimed when he saw the face of the man his wife had lunch with.
The caption identified him as Rob Adamson, a producer at the network. Judd quickly read the man's credentials.
"He doesn't have anything to do with sports. He produces reality programs."
Waller took his snooping one step further that evening.
"Well? What did your boss say?" he asked Gwen when she came home from work.
"About what?"
"Your performance review. Remember? The lunch engagement. The new contract."
"Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. The network is happy with me. Now we'll just have to wait and see how generous they are."
When she went upstairs to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable, he called up to her, "Hey, can I borrow your phone a minute? I forgot to charge mine."
"Sure, it's in my purse."
Judd quickly scanned the list of his wife's recent calls. As he had feared, there were more than a dozen from Rob Adamson, including one the previous evening.
As he was about to return the phone to his wife's handbag, the ringtone alerted him to an incoming text message. He couldn't resist viewing it.
I got your house key. Everything's set. Can't wait to see your husband's reaction.
Judd knew before he read the name on the screen that the message was from his rival.
So she was going to leave him? It was no great surprise, he supposed. It was only logical she would prefer a fellow New Yorker like Rob Adamson to the farm boy she married. And what did she expect Judd to do: bow out gracefully? Well, she had another thing coming!
All the jibes and insults he had endured since moving to the Northeast paled in comparison to the cruel treatment he was receiving at the hands of the woman he loved.
"I don't feel like going out tonight," Gwen said as she descended the staircase. "Why don't we order in from ...?"
Whack.
The beautiful, intelligent sports commentator never knew what hit her. Judd Waller, one of the best players in the majors, had swung his bat and crushed her skull with a single blow.
* * *
After more than six hours of scrubbing away the evidence of his wife's murder, Judd covered Gwen's head with a thick Hefty trash bag and placed the body inside the walk-in closet. He would have to find a way to get rid of the corpse. The hour was late, however, and he had a game the next day. He had to get some sleep. The disagreeable task could wait until he got back from the stadium.
When Judd woke the following morning, he recalled with hideous clarity the events of the previous evening. What had he done? How could he have killed the woman he loved, even if she had been unfaithful to him?
He made it through the morning hours in a stupor, behaving like a zombie on Prozac. He was afraid to speak, terrified of betraying himself as a killer.
After going hitless in five at-bats and making two errors in the outfield, he ducked out of the locker room and headed back to Jersey. When Judd got back home, he pulled his car into the garage and shut the door behind him. He would put his wife's body in the trunk and dispose of it later that night.
Had his mind not been preoccupied with the gruesome task at hand, Judd might have noticed something amiss in the house. But he didn't. Instead, he went straight to the bedroom closet and picked up Gwen's body.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Rob Adamson stepped out of the hall closet and spoke in hushed whispers to his cameraman, while dozens of the Wallers' friends and family members were hiding in the living room, dining room and kitchen.
"Hello, America," the producer whispered into his microphone, "I'm Rob Adamson, the host of Full of Surprises, a new reality show where each week our camera will bring you to a surprise party for one of your favorite celebrities. Tonight, we're here at the home of New York Yankee slugger, Judd Waller. His wife, television sports commentator Gwen Jameson, has invited us into her home so we can join in on her husband's surprise birthday party."
Adamson stopped speaking when he heard a noise coming from the bedroom.
"In just a few moments, the happy couple will be coming out of that room ...."
When Judd reached the bottom of the stairs, the first-floor lights came on and all the guests jumped out, yelling "Surprise!"
Judd panicked and turned suddenly, brushing his wife's corpse against the wooden railing. The Hefty bag fell off, exposing Gwen's battered head. Friends and family screamed not with the joy of celebration but with revulsion and horror at the ghastly sight.
Above the sobs and shrieks, Judd cried, "I didn't mean to kill her. I swear it!"
The producer—whose relationship with Gwen Jameson had been purely professional—turned to his cameraman and asked, "Did you get that?"
* * *
Although Full of Surprises never aired the episode featuring Judd Waller's horrific surprise birthday party, the film taken that night at the ballplayer's Bergen County home became as well-known as the Zapruder film of the Kennedy assassination and the videotape made of the Rodney King beating. Rob Adamson was not only one of the key witnesses at the Yankee hitter's murder trial, but he also published a bestselling book about his experience.
Despite having earned the adoration of millions of baseball fans, Judd Waller was found guilty of murder in the first degree. With no death penalty in New Jersey, he was sentenced to life without parole. The former New York Yankee slugger who had signed multimillion-dollar contracts was now working in a prison laundry for less than ten dollars an hour.
And while the Yankees found another left fielder to help take them to the post-season playoffs, the Okie from Muskogee kept hitting the ball and setting records on the prison's baseball team.
Salem loves birthday parties - especially the cake!
