by Clay Cormany
The two teenagers took off toward the information booth. Tina and her friends didn’t follow, but they continued to talk.
"I hope your mouth gets better, Jace!" Tina shouted.
"Yeah," agreed the freckle-faced kid. "Or else you’ll need to put a sack on your head when you go outside."
The few steps it took to reach the information booth seemed to take forever, but once there, they received directions to the aid station and found it without any trouble. A nurse washed the wound, applied a cold compress to it, and then dabbed on some hydrocortisone. "We get a lot of bee stings here," she said, "but not too many on the lip."
The ointment took away some of the pain, but the swelling remained. Stephanie continued to give him worried glances while they walked back to the car. "You should have your doctor check that lip," she urged him, once they were on the road.
"Iddle be occay," he replied.
At the Thornapples’ home, he glanced at his watch. No problem with being late this time. Stephanie’s babysitting job didn’t start for another hour. When they reached the door, Jace put his arms around her waist and moved forward to kiss her. She hesitated.
"Jace, I’ll hurt you if I kiss you on the mouth, won’t I?"
"Izz occay. I kun hannel it."
She still held back. "Do you want to kiss me that bad?"
He nodded.
"All right then."
She moved her head toward his, put an arm around his shoulders, and slowly placed her lips on his lips. In the middle of their embrace, almost without knowing it, Jace opened his eyes and rolled them toward the door. No one was there.
"If that swelling doesn't go down soon, you should see a doctor," Stephanie said after the kiss ended.
"Occay, I’ll see a docker."
She kissed him again — this time on the cheek — and vanished into her house. Jace walked back to his car and peered into the side-view mirror. The kid was right; he did look like Quasimodo. Maybe I should find some church bells to ring, he thought as he opened the car door. Before he sat down behind the wheel, he glanced toward the Thornapple home and this time he did see Sylvia. She peeked at him from a window on the second floor. He couldn’t make out her face too well. Still, he knew she was sad.
Chapter Nineteen
The Valkyries, who assembled at the South Center Mall tennis courts at one o’clock on Saturday, realized that Jace brought them there because the courts were next to something else that might do them a lot of good.
"When did they build this place?" asked Lauren.
"It opened right after Easter," said Jace. "Come on, let’s go in."
The girls filed through the gate on a chain-link fence and into a small white building with a sign over its door that read RIDGEVIEW BATTING PRACTICE FACILITY. Back in March, Jace saw the "Opening Soon" sign on the building while running an errand for his mother. Later, he heard that the Ridgeview High baseball team came here for batting practice. Two weeks ago, right before the scrimmage with the Hornets, Jace stopped by and learned that one of the eight cages was equipped to throw softballs. He didn’t know if practicing here would improve his team’s batting — but it was worth a try.
"Pick out a bat," Jace instructed the girls, once they were inside. "Make sure it's no longer than thirty-four inches. Get a helmet, too, then line up by the counter."
As Jace watched his team sort through bats and helmets, Sylvia arrived with Tina close behind.
"Sorry we’re late," she said. "Mom had to take Stephanie to my dad’s office before she could get us over here."
"That’s okay," Jace said. "Tina, go pick out a bat and –"
Sylvia’s energetic little sister bounded toward the bat rack before Jace could finish his sentence.
"Does that kid ever slow down?" he said with a laugh.
"Not too often," Sylvia said. "I think Tina even plays softball in her dreams." She raised her hand toward his face and carefully placed a finger just to the right of the sting. The move surprised Jace, but Sylvia's touch was so soothing and gentle that he made no effort to pull away.
"How’s your lip?" she asked.
"Much better. Most of the swelling is gone, and I don’t sound like my mouth is full of marbles anymore."
Sylvia removed her hand. "Stephanie felt bad your picnic ended that way, but I know she had fun and hopes you’ll ask her out again." She spoke slowly. The smile that followed her words seemed forced.
Jace forced a smile of his own. On one hand, it helped to know that he was making a good impression on Stephanie. But on the other, he felt awkward talking about her with Sylvia. He wondered if Sylvia exaggerated the positive things that Stephanie supposedly said. He sensed, too, that Sylvia found it increasingly hard to promote his relationship with her sister. That wasn’t a problem, since he knew he could set up dates with Stephanie on his own now. But he had an uneasy feeling that Sylvia wanted him to be something more to her than just a fellow coach.
"I’m glad she had a good time," Jace said. Then he walked to the counter where the girls had lined up. "Are you guys ready to rumble?" he shouted.
"I’m ready," Tina shouted back. The other girls were, too. Each clasped a shiny aluminum bat and sported a black or green helmet emblazoned with RBPF. Tina swung her bat dangerously close to the counter, causing the middle-aged woman behind the counter to gasp.
"Whoa there, tiger," Jace warned. "Let’s save the swinging for the cages."
He collected the two dollars that each girl brought and gave it to the woman. In return, he received a list of rules and forty tokens — enough to give each of the ten girls four turns in the batting cage.
"All right, let’s do some hitting," Jace said.
As the team filed out of the building, Jace made a quick trip to the rack of bats, looked them over, and picked the biggest one he could find. Putting it over his shoulder, he met Sylvia at the door.
"Are you going to hit, too?" she asked.
"Nope."
"Then why are you bringing that bat? It's too big for our league."
"I know, but it’s part of the plan."
"Okay, smarty pants," Sylvia laughed. "I hope it works as well as the last one."
Back outdoors, Jace took a moment to admire the new facility. The cages stood in a straight line, one next to the other. The chain link fence that the team went through to enter the building extended in a semicircle around the cages. A thick wooden pole in the center held up a huge net of rope that stretched out, covering the top of the fence at every point, so no ball, no matter how hard it was hit, could escape.
In front of the pole were the pitching machines, odd-looking robotic devices with a small light at their base and a catapult-like arm. A slanted roof ran over the tops of the machines and a protective net ran across their fronts, with openings for the pitched balls to fly through. The balls themselves came to the machines on assembly lines that crisscrossed each other.
The cages stood about forty feet away from the pitching machines. Each was a rectangular box made out of chain link fence. It had a smooth concrete floor with a home plate painted on it. The batter entered a cage through a small door that had a metallic sign, indicating the pitching speed and type of ball the batter would receive — fast baseball, medium baseball, slow baseball, and slow softball. Just inside the door was a receptacle for the tokens that would set the appropriate pitching machine into motion.
Outside of the cages were several benches, and with Sylvia’s help, Jace pulled two of them together near Cage Number Two and had the girls sit down. Excitement and curiosity radiated from their faces. Some fidgeted with their bats, thumping them on the ground or wobbling them back and forth. Jace shouldered his own bat and strode in front of them.
"This team has made a lot of progress with its fielding," he said. "That’s why our last game was so close. Now we need to make that same kind of progress with our hitting."
"I’ve never been in a batting cage before," said Dana.
"It’s no big deal," Ja
ce assured her. "You just stand at the plate and try to hit the ball when the machine throws it to you."
"How fast does the machine throw it?" Dana continued, still leery.
"This is a slow softball cage," said Jace. "But it's geared for older players, so the ball will come about as fast as it would in a game. Better still, it will always be close to the plate."
"Yeah, it’s easy," said Corey. "I’ve seen my brother do it. You don’t even have to run any bases."
"There are a few rules to follow, but they’re pretty simple." Jace held up the list he’d received and continued. "First, treat people in the other cages respectfully. Second, keep your helmet on until you are out of your cage. Third, don’t stand on top of home plate. Fourth, be ready to hit as soon as the light on the pitching machine comes on, and finally watch for balls rolling under your feet."
Some of the girls didn't understand the last rule. "Why should we worry about balls rolling under our feet?" asked Angela.
As if to answer her question, a baseball hit by someone in another cage thumped off the roof above the pitching machines and bounced toward Cage Number Two.
"That’s why," said Jace, pointing to the ball as it rolled over the painted-on home plate. "Balls hit by other people can trip you up if you’re not careful."
"No sweat," said Lauren, jumping up. "I want to go first."
"No, I want to go first," Tina interjected.
"Just a minute," said Jace, raising a hand. "There’s one more thing you need to know." He took the bat off his shoulder and held it up.
"I know all of you picked out bats, but for your first two turns, I want each of you to use this one."
Moans and complaints rumbled across both benches. "That bat’s too big," protested Susie. "I’ll be lucky if I can even lift it."
"Give it a try your first time in the cage."
"Why can’t we use the bats we picked ourselves?" asked Dana.
"You will when you bat for the third time. Now, who wants to get things started?"
"Not me," said Heather. She flicked a sunflower seed out of her mouth and tried to hit it in midair. A few of her teammates giggled, but most sat in silence.
"Come on, Tina," said Sylvia. "You can hit with any bat. Go into the cage and show how it’s done."
"Okay," muttered Tina, her earlier enthusiasm gone.
She took the larger bat and went into the cage with Jace close behind. He dropped a token into the receptacle and then scrambled out, closing the door behind him. A clanking, squeaking sound issued from the pitching machine as it sprang to life. Seconds later the machine’s light came on, and Tina went into her batting stance.
The first pitch sailed out in a majestic arc, the ball going chest high over the center of the plate. Tina swung hard but did not connect.
"This thing weighs a ton!" she yelled.
"Just do your best," Sylvia shouted back, but then gave Jace a concerned look. "I know what you’re trying to do, but maybe you should find a smaller bat."
"Let’s see how Tina does with the rest of her pitches."
Tina swung futilely at the next six pitches. She foul tipped the eighth and ninth pitches and hit a slow dribbler back toward the pitching machine on the tenth.
"Who’s next?" asked Jace after Tina came out of the cage.
"Guess I might as well get it over with," said Phoebe.
Jace plopped in the token and the machine cranked into action once again. Phoebe did even worse than Tina, missing every pitch except the last, which she sent skittering on the ground to the right of the machine.
"This bat is too heavy," she complained when she left the cage.
"But we’ll keep using it for now," Jace said. "Corey, you’re next."
And so it went with Jace putting in tokens and each girl swinging the heavy bat, usually missing the ball, and complaining bitterly.
After the whole team batted, Jace sat them on the benches again.
"Are you ready for more?" he asked.
"Not with that bat," said Phoebe.
"I’m not using that bat again, no matter what you say," griped Dana, who missed every one of her ten pitches.
"Hold up the bats you picked from the rack. I want to see them," said Jace.
Ten arms raised ten bats. Jace inspected each one. They were all about the same size except for Lauren’s.
"All right, this time, we are all going to use the bat that Lauren picked."
"Is it smaller than that horrible bat we used last time?" asked Tina.
"Yes, it is," Jace said. "But it’s still bigger than the bats the rest of you brought out here. Let’s see how you do with it."
Tina led things off again. She missed the first three pitches, but then hit a solid line drive that plowed into the fence behind the pitching machine. She fouled off the next two pitches, and then hit a high fly ball that would have carried into the outfield at Addison Park. She followed that with two well-hit ground balls and another line drive.
"Good job, Tina," Jace said. "Phoebe, you’re next."
Though not as successful as Tina, Phoebe also did better using Lauren’s bat, hitting three crisp ground balls and a pop-up. All the girls, in fact, with the exception of Dana, improved. For her part, Lauren drew gasps of awe when she hammered one ball so hard that it struck the center pole and went careening into another batting cage where a teenage boy was smacking baseballs. Startled, the teenager stared at Lauren.
"You didn’t hit that, did you?" he asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes, she did!" The other girls declared in unison.
The teenager whistled in admiration. "Fantastic hit, kid!"
"Thanks," Lauren responded, beaming with pride.
By the time the girls finished their second turn at the plate, they were eager to continue. Even Dana, who had yet to get even a foul tip, wanted more.
"We get to use our own bats, this time, right?" said Susie.
"Yes, let’s see how you do with those," Jace answered.
They did quite well. Balls rattled the far side fence, bounded across the ground, and caromed off the roof over the pitching machines. Corey struck the pitching machine when one of her line drives went through the hole in the netting where the balls came out. Even Dana managed to connect a couple of times. Significantly, when the girls missed pitches, it was usually because they swung early rather than late.
"Be patient!" Jace cautioned them. "Hold back until the ball is almost in the strike zone."
Sylvia sat next to Jace on one of the benches, watching the team and cheering whenever someone made a solid hit. "This was a great idea, Jace," she said. "You seem to be a natural at this."
"What? Coaching softball?" He chuckled.
"Hey, don’t sell yourself short. They’re hitting that ball all over the place, and having loads of fun doing it."
"But it’s one thing to hit a pitch in a batting cage, and something else to hit one in a game."
"I know, but I’ve got a feeling we’re going to get a win soon."
Jace paused. "Do you happen to know who we play next?"
"Um, just a minute." Sylvia reached into the back pocket of her shorts and drew out a tattered schedule. She squinted at it a few seconds before finding the answer to Jace’s question. "We play the Dragons on Diamond Number Three next Tuesday. Do you know anything about them?"
He frowned. "I don’t know how good they are, but I’ve heard my mom talk about the coach, Patsy Langham. She’s got a bad temper. Been warned by the league for mouthing off to umpires and other coaches."
"I’ve seen people like that," said Sylvia. "They take the fun out of the game for everyone."
When all the tokens were used up, Jace led the girls to the tennis courts’ parking lot to wait for their rides home.
"For the rest of the season, when we can find the time, we’ll come here for batting practice," he told them. "You did pretty good out there."
"Yeah," said Corey. "But we still haven’t won a game."
Jace folded his
arms under his chest, hoping it made him look confident. "You know something? I think that’s going to change real soon."
Chapter Twenty
The umpire looked toward the Dragon coach and then toward Martha. "Coaches, let’s have your line-ups," he said, motioning for them to join him at home plate. Jace recognized the ump as Brent Carmichael, a recent Ridgeview grad who had been a standout player on the Rams’ baseball team. He appeared sturdy and trim in his black shorts and white t-shirt with the league’s logo on the right side just above the chest. His square jaw and closely-cropped hair reminded Jace of a Marine recruit.
"Come with me," Martha said to her two assistant coaches, "and bring the list." In the few seconds it took for them to reach the umpire, Jace took a final look at the batting order that he, his mom, and Sylvia put together a few hours before. The project involved a review of batting averages, on-base averages, and power percentages. Moreover, they considered not only how well the girls did in the batting cages but also how often they attended practices.
Corey, who had the highest on-base average, held the lead-off spot followed by Angela, the team’s best contact hitter. After Angela, the two power batters, Tina and Lauren, came to the plate. Next were the "anything-can-happen" players — Denise, Phoebe, Charlene, and Sarah with weaker hitters Nancy, Heather, and Susie following them. Dana, the weakest hitter of all, held the last spot. Kay and Erica, who were both out of town, would be added later.
Jace handed the list to the umpire and smiled at the two Dragon coaches who also brought their team’s line-up. Neither returned the smile. The head coach, Patsy Langham, was a short, thin, forty-something woman with red-dyed hair and brown, wrinkled skin that looked like it suffered from too many trips to the tanning salon. Her assistant was a husky, large-boned woman in her twenties. She wore her brown hair almost as short as Jace’s and hid her eyes behind a pair of aviator sunglasses. Both her arms and legs were muscular, and just below the right sleeve of her jersey was some kind of tattoo.
The umpire took the line-ups and then held up a coin. He pointed at Martha and tossed it in the air. She called "heads"; it came up tails. The Valkyries had as much trouble winning coin tosses as they had winning games, thought Jace.
