by Tim Green
His insides twisted a bit. “I played like junk today.”
“Everyone has a bad day. Zach said you had twenty-seven home runs.”
Joey swelled with pride. “He has a better batting average.”
“Are you excited about the all-stars? I’ve got a lacrosse tournament on Saturday, but we have practice Sunday morning at Randall Park and I was just going to stay and watch you guys if you make it to the all-star championship game.”
The thrill of it was enough to overcome Joey’s horror of not making the team. He had to make the team, didn’t he? Zach said it. Didn’t Coach Barrett say it was more likely than not? Of course he’d make it.
So, Joey said, “That would be great.”
Leah crossed her legs and hung her head so that the long hair hid her face. “I think people should be friends before they go out, don’t you?”
Fear gripped Joey’s heart. He tried to agree, but a strangled noise was the only thing that came out.
“What?” Leah looked puzzled.
Joey nodded fiercely. “Yes. You’re right.”
She smiled. “So, we can be friends, right?”
29
The thrill of Leah’s words carried Joey around like a magic carpet. He zoomed through space for the rest of the night. As he made his final preparations for bed, he stared at himself in the mirror for several minutes. He was dazed from the excitement of the day, good and bad, and light-headed from the lack of sleep. He tried to remember everything she’d said to make sure that it wasn’t just a dream.
How could that be, though?
They spent nearly a half hour together there, on the swings, swaying back and forth, sometimes touching each other’s legs, sometimes not. He knew so many things about her now. Like him, she was the oldest in her family, only she had two younger sisters and a baby brother. Her father was a financial planner and her mother an elementary school music teacher in the next town over.
Whether it was her mom being a teacher or not, he couldn’t remember, but she did read a lot. He liked that because it made her admiration for his good grades seem that much more believable. Hunger Games was her favorite book, but she was also a Twilight fan and he found himself promising to read them both.
She was an athlete like him, but played lacrosse, soccer, and basketball. Her dream job was to be on the SportsCenter desk at ESPN, and to that end, she devoured statistics and team rosters of not just baseball, football, and basketball in the pros and college, but she knew about NASCAR, boxing, horse racing, and Ultimate Fighting. He had told her he knew she’d make it. What had he said?
“Not many girls are as pretty as you who know so much about sports.”
Those were his words, and it made him look away from himself in the mirror and stumble back down the hall to his room. His last thought was of tomorrow, and that if all went well, he’d see her at Gideon Falls with a bunch of her friends. He closed his eyes and saw her clearly before he fell face-first into his bed and plunged into the total darkness of sleep.
Joey woke up to the feel of something wet stroking his hand. Before he could even move, he heard Pork Chop’s low meow.
“Pork Chop, cut it out.”
The sandpaper feel of his narrow tongue kept lapping Joey’s hand, but there was something more. Joey hung his head over the edge of the bed. Crouched down on all fours, right next to the cat, was Martin, licking his hand right along with Pork Chop.
Joey snatched his hand out of reach.
“Martin, that’s disgusting. You woke me up.”
Martin’s eyes glittered at him. “I lick you!”
His little brother approached Joey’s face with an extended tongue.
“Gross.” Joey pulled the covers over his head, and Martin squealed with delight.
“Joey,” his mother called, “stop fooling around in there. We leave for church in fifteen minutes.”
Joey groaned and snaked his legs out of bed. He flipped the covers over the top of Martin and the cat. Martin screamed bloody murder and somehow ended up with Pork Chop’s tail. The cat howled. Joey uncovered them both like a matador. The cat streaked out of the room and Martin started laughing again.
“You’re really twisted.” Joey spoke in a harsh whisper to his little brother on his way out of the room toward the bathroom.
He got ready, wolfed down a piece of toast with cream cheese and blackberry jam, then loaded into the car with the rest of his family for church. The messages he got there didn’t leave him feeling warm and fuzzy. There was a bit too much teeth gnashing, burning of chaff, and choked-off vines planted among weeds and thistles for Joey’s liking, and he found himself silently asking Where is the love? as they walked out into the sunlight. Maybe it was his guilty conscience. He suspected so.
Back home, he dug into his notes. Tomorrow he had finals in English and social studies. Tuesday was science and health, a cakewalk. Wednesday, the last day of school, he had math. With tomorrow being his toughest day, he knew he probably shouldn’t be ducking out to Gideon Falls later, but that couldn’t be helped. There were some things that you just couldn’t say no to, and this was one of them. Being with Leah last night did something for him that nothing else seemed to be able to do.
He had forgotten all about his mom investigating Mr. Kratz’s dog’s drugging, Coach Barrett’s weird meeting, his own flop, and the team’s loss in the championship game—all of it. Being with Leah made all the bad things melt away. Today, the last thing he wanted to do was mope around, waiting for the call from Coach Barrett. He argued to himself that he wouldn’t be able to study anyway.
The only question was, would he win the same argument with his mom?
Joey found her out back, planting some flowers around the birdbath. His dad sat with his shirt off, reading the newspaper and keeping an eye on Martin, who sloshed around a kiddy pool filled with murky water and grass clippings.
“Hi,” Joey said, stuffing hands in his pockets.
His mom looked up and shielded her eyes from the sun with a gloved hand. “What’s up, Joey?”
“I’ve been studying and thought, you know, that maybe I’d take a break.”
“You thought so, huh?” she asked. “’Cause you know everything you need to know? Do you want me to test you?”
“I still have some to go, but . . . well, I keep thinking about Coach Barrett and that all-star meeting, so it’s hard to focus anyway, and Zach and some other people are going to Gideon Falls, so I thought maybe I could ride my bike over there for an hour or two.
“What do you think?”
Joey studied her face, and waited for the verdict.
30
She smiled. “You’re a good kid, Joey.”
That made him cringe.
“And a good student.”
That, he could accept.
“Go ahead. Be back by dinner, though, and you can study tonight.”
He grinned. “Thanks, Mom.”
He put on a bathing suit and a T-shirt, sandals on his feet, and a towel around his neck, climbed on his bike, and headed for the park. He whizzed through the gates and past the families spread out on blankets anchored down by coolers or sitting at picnic tables among the trees surrounding the public pavilion. He stopped at the open grass area next to the swimming hole. Dozens of older kids from school were spread out on the grass, lying in the sun, or throwing Frisbees. The other sixth-grade kids were already there—Zach and Leah and her three friends but also some others.
The sun baked down on them. A warm breeze only made it more pleasant to be there. Joey took a deep breath and wedged his bike into the rack. He gripped the towel wrapped around his neck to steady himself as he approached the group. On one side of Leah sat her friends. Joey suddenly slowed his pace and stiffened. On the other, lying on his side in the grass with a stupid clover between his teeth, was Butch Barrett. Next to him were two other players from the baseball team, then Zach before the girls rounded out the circle.
Leah wore what looked like one of her father’
s old dress shirts over a lime-green bathing suit with big white-framed sunglasses on her face and her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Butch Barrett’s eyes also hid behind a pair of sunglasses, stylish aviators that Joey thought looked stupid on his pale, skinny face.
“Hi.” Joey didn’t bother looking at anyone but Leah.
“Hey, Joey.” She smiled.
It annoyed him that so many people were around—especially Butch Barrett—and Joey wondered if he should have come at all. He didn’t know where to sit. Butch just lay there, twisting the clover around with his tongue.
“Here, buddy.” Zach scooted over to make room between him and the girlfriend of Leah’s who looked like she didn’t approve of him. Joey thought her name was Lucy Stever.
Joey wanted to be where Butch Barrett was, but he sat down next to his friend, trying to look cool even though he felt like a clod. As soon as he sat, Butch Barrett stood, turned his back to Joey, and asked Leah if she wanted to take a swim. She tried to look around him to see what Joey and Zach thought about it, but Butch shuffled side to side to keep her from making eye contact, laughing like it was some hilarious game.
“Uh-uh. I asked you. You got to make up your own mind.”
Finally she gave up. “Sure.”
“Good, come on.” Butch reached for her hand, but she got up herself and dusted the grass off her legs.
“You guys coming?” Leah looked around at her girlfriends as well as Zach and Joey.
Everyone got up but Joey.
31
“Joey?” Leah tilted her head.
“Nah,” Joey said, spreading his towel and lying back like he was going to soak up the sun. “I’m not up for a swim right now.”
He tried to make it sound like swimming was the dorkiest thing in the world to do at that moment, but he felt like a dork himself when she shrugged and followed her girlfriends, who paid him no attention. He clenched his jaw as he watched them wander over to the swimming hole and dive in, one after another, like penguins on a nature show. Zach surfaced and hoisted himself up on the edge of the wall so he could wave to Joey to come on. Joey just shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to look like a follower. That would mean Butch won, and he couldn’t bear that, so he lay back and shut his eyes, trying to sort out the squeals coming from the swimming hole and imagining which ones were Leah’s.
Finally, the whole group returned, out of breath and still teasing one another.
“What was that, Zach? The doggie paddle?” Butch grinned at his two buddies and they all laughed.
Zach looked up from drying his hair. “Yeah. It beats drowning, right?”
It was the girls’ turn to laugh, and Joey joined them because Zach was so smooth and funny, all without even trying. Joey was proud of his friend, but he was aching to turn the conversation to baseball, where he and Zach reigned supreme.
“No one asks you about your swim stroke on the baseball diamond, either, right, Zach?” Joey forced out a stale laugh.
Zach forced one out, too, and gave Joey a confused look. “No, they don’t.”
Joey turned his attention to Leah. “Zach got our team’s automatic slot on the all-star team. Hopefully, I’ll be getting one of the wild card spots later today, right, Zach?”
Zach glanced quickly at Butch Barrett, who sat smirking with his legs crossed and water still dripping down his skinny chest. “That’s how it should go. Joey’s our power hitter.”
“You never know though, do you?” Butch Barrett said. “He choked pretty bad in the championship game.”
Butch and Joey glared at each other for a moment. Butch left a thumbprint on his own chest and turned to Leah and her friends. “I should know. I would have been the winning run. I was on first when the big power hitter here stood up to the plate for a minute before he got sat down.”
“Big deal.” Joey tried to talk under his breath. “You got walked onto first.”
“What’d you say? I got walked on?” Butch straightened his back. “But the point is, I was on. We could have won.”
“Joey will make the all-stars anyway.” Zach laced his fingers together and lay back, using them as a pillow, like he knew something the others didn’t. “That’s what the wild card spots are for.”
“Who says Joey’s getting a wild card?” Butch spit his words with venom. “You two clowns? Who made you lords of Little League? My dad’s the coach. He’s not so sure, I can tell you that much.”
“Well, we’ll find out pretty soon, won’t we?” Zach sat up and sparks flashed in his dark eyes. He spoke with a passion Joey had never heard him use.
Butch made a big show of looking at his watch. “You bet we will. Maybe Joey should phone home right now to find out if he got the call.”
Joey picked up his cell phone and saw that it was well after four. He swallowed hard. Leah looked at him with concern, and it was like yesterday when he got up to the plate to win or lose the game. He was happy that she cared, but the look didn’t suggest much confidence in him ending up as the hero riding off into the sunset. Still, Butch—and Joey’s own well-meaning best friend—had backed him into a corner.
“I will.”
Joey dialed home. His mom picked up. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mom. It’s me. Did you get a call from Coach Barrett or the League? I’m with some kids here and we’re wondering if I made the all-star team.”
“Oh, Joey,” she said. “Coach Barrett just called . . .”
Joey looked around, forcing himself to smile at them all. He spoke softly and urgently to his mom.
“So, what did he say?”
32
“He wants to talk to us.” Joey’s mom hesitated. “In person.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t say, Joey. I told him you’d be home for dinner and we could talk after that.”
“Well, did he sound like I made it?” Joey covered the phone, turned, and walked away from the other kids.
“I really don’t know. He didn’t sound like anything.”
“Not happy? Not sad?”
“Joey, he’ll be here at seven and we’ll find out then. I’m sure you made it.”
“Because of how he talked?” Joey’s heart soared.
“No, just because you should.”
His heart sank. “Okay. I’ll be home for dinner.”
Joey wanted to just keep going, leave his towel, get his bike, and ride away. He couldn’t do that to Zach, though. His friend had been working hard on Joey’s behalf with Leah, and running away from the scene, just because Butch Barrett was a dork, would be no way to repay Zach’s efforts. Joey straightened his back and raised his chin. Then he turned and marched back to the group.
“Well?” Butch still smirked. “How’d you make out?”
“Don’t know yet.” Joey sat on his towel and plucked a clover of his own, biting the stem so that its bitterness filled his mouth. “I’m not worried, though. I’m sure I’ll be playing next weekend with Zach.”
The gleam in Butch’s eyes flickered and almost went out before he regained his snotty attitude and chuckled, shaking his head like Joey was the world’s biggest fool.
Joey was weary of this game and he decided on a bold move. He took a deep, short breath.
“Leah, you want to walk up to the falls?”
33
Leah was on her feet. “Sure, let’s go.”
Joey waited for her to get to his side of the circle. Zach slapped his leg and gave him a hidden thumbs-up. Lucy glared. Butch looked like someone had just punched him in the nose. No one said a word. When Leah reached him, Joey turned and walked with her toward the winding path that followed the stream up to the falls.
When they were out of earshot of their group, Joey looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was following them. “That guy is such a jerk.”
“Butch?”
“Who else?”
“He’s okay.”
“You call that okay?”
“He did start to act a litt
le funny when you got there. He’s usually nice.”
“The guy can’t even play baseball. He’s lucky his dad is the coach. He bats third. You know what his batting average is?”
Leah shook her head as they walked. Sunlight dappled the gravel path with wavy patches of gold. They weren’t the only ones walking. Kids and families and young couples strolled along going both ways, depending on whether they’d seen the falls or were on their way there.
“One eighty-four. Can you believe that?”
She shrugged.
“Zach bats six twenty-three.” Joey felt suddenly foolish, like he was out on the dance floor all over again. He shut his mouth.
Leah took a deep breath and pointed at the stream. “I like the way the light is on the water. It’s like a million diamond rings.”
“Yeah,” Joey said. “Real nice.”
They walked in silence and Joey felt words building up inside him like some giant burp that just had to come out to keep him from exploding. He opened his mouth. “I played my worst game of the year yesterday.”
The words might have been a burp for how abrupt and odd-sounding they were. He bit his lower lip. He just couldn’t seem to get things right.
“That’s okay,” she said. “Like I said last night, everyone has a bad game sometimes. Miguel Cabrera had two errors Thursday night. It happens.”
“You’re a Detroit fan?”
“Not really.” She looked up at him, offering a smile of perfect white teeth. “I like first basemen, and he’s the best.”
He grinned. “Me, too, but what about Pujols? Votto?”
“You could make an argument for any one of them. It’s personal preference. I think Cabrera is steady, but then . . . two errors? That’s why I say it can happen.”
Joey realized they were having to raise their voices now because the roaring thunder of the falls filled the shade. The air turned cooler as they rounded a bend and confronted the broken white water cascading down the rocks into a deep green pool. In the notch of the hills above, the blue sky wedged itself between the trees.
