Oh, well, he thought. He’ll just have to sit on the bus without me!
Stu must have missed the bus, however, because he walked into homeroom late.
“Overslept,” Stu muttered when the teacher asked why he was tardy. Halfway down the aisle to his desk, he stumbled. The class tittered, but Stu didn’t seem to hear. He slumped into his seat and stared at his desktop for the rest of the period. When the bell rang, Manny saw him start as if he’d been woken up.
“Dude, are you okay?” he asked as they funneled into the hall with the rest of the class.
“I didn’t sleep very well last night,” Stu admitted. He punctuated the statement with a wide yawn.
Manny lowered his voice. “How’s your head?”
Stu shrugged. “Aw, it’s fine. I have a little bit of a headache, but, like I said, I didn’t sleep well last night, so it’s probably because I’m tired.”
They parted in the hallway, Manny for science class and Stu for Spanish. Their schedules didn’t intersect again until lunchtime. Manny almost walked right past Stu in the cafeteria because Stu had his head down in his hands.
“You don’t look so hot,” Manny said, sliding into the seat next to him. “Is your head—”
“My head is fine!” Stu said sharply. Then he groaned. “It’s my stomach that’s bugging me. I bet it’s from the cafeteria food smell. What are they serving, anyway?”
Manny glanced at the next table. “Looks like grilled cheese sandwiches.”
Stu grimaced. “Well, it smells like grilled toe cheese sandwiches. I’m going to see if I can use the bathroom.”
With that, he shoved his lunch to one side, got up, and left.
Manny didn’t see him again until that afternoon, on the bus. Stu usually talked a mile a minute on the ride home, but today he just sat and stared out the window. Manny stayed silent, too, only speaking to his friend to say good-bye when the bus dropped him off at his stop.
He’s just not in the mood to chat today, he thought as he watched Stu shuffle up the walkway and disappear into his house. Nothing wrong with that.
Yet deep down, a little worm of worry had started to wriggle in his gut.
8
Coach Flaherty had scheduled a practice for four o’clock that afternoon. The Fletchers’ house was on Manny’s way to the park, so as usual he stopped by to pick up Stu.
Mrs. Fletcher opened the door. “I’m afraid Stu won’t be going to practice today,” she said. “He’s in bed.”
“In bed?” Manny echoed.
A shadow of worry crossed her face. “I think he might be coming down with a virus or something. He didn’t seem like himself when he got home from the park yesterday, and after school today he went straight to bed! For all I know, he has a fever, but he won’t let me feel his forehead to see if it’s hot.”
She sighed. “Maybe I’m making too much of it, though. He says it’s nothing, he just wanted to lie down. How did he seem at school today?”
Manny searched for an answer. If he told Mrs. Fletcher that Stu had had a headache and felt nauseated at school, she’d insist on giving her son a thorough once-over. Then she’d be sure to discover the lump on his head and the truth would come out. And when Stu found out that Manny had been the one to tip her off, he’d be furious.
Then a solution came to him.
“You know, now that you ask, he did say he didn’t sleep very well last night,” he said truthfully. “Well, anyway, I’ll tell the coach he’s not coming. See you!”
He hurried away before Mrs. Fletcher could probe any further. His mind was racing. Are Stu’s troubles somehow connected to the blow he’d gotten? He could understand about the headache—anyone would have one after taking a pitch to the skull. But would a hit like that make a guy tired or sick to his stomach? He just didn’t know.
He arrived at the ballpark a few minutes late to practice. Coach Flaherty was displeased with his tardiness, but looked even more disgruntled to hear that Stu was home in bed. “What’s his problem?” he growled. “Aches? Fatigue? Huh. Sounds like what Jason has. His mother should have him checked for Lyme disease.”
Manny nodded. He supposed the coach could be right, although he didn’t remember Stu saying anything about having a rash. Besides, the way Mrs. Fletcher covered him in insect repellent made him think a tick wouldn’t want to go near him!
The coach gathered the team together then. “I’d hoped we’d only be missing Jason today, but it seems Stu won’t be joining us, either. Nothing we can do about that, of course, but there is a piece of good news. Jason is doing better than expected and will be back at shortstop tomorrow.”
While the Grizzlies applauded, Manny glanced at Sean. He wasn’t surprised to see disappointment on his face. His expression changed to surprise a moment later, however, when the coach announced that he was putting Sean at second base that day. “Taylor,” he added, “you’ll play Jason’s position today.”
Taylor Jones was the Grizzlies’ usual second-base substitute. He looked equally surprised at the coach’s decision to swap him over to shortstop. Manny might have been, too, if he hadn’t remembered Sean’s batting average from the previous game. Manny figured the coach was hedging his bets. Taylor was a good kid and a decent infielder, but he was lousy at bat. If the coach had to have a sub in place for the game, he would naturally want someone who could hit as well as field. Sean was the right choice in that case.
At least, that’s what Manny thought before practice began. Soon after, though, he wasn’t as sure. Sean had been prepared to step into the shortstop slot, but it was obvious that he wasn’t as confident about his responsibilities at second.
The coach had started off with a simple around-the-horn throwing drill to warm up the infield. Sean did fine with that, but when the coach moved on to more complicated situation drills, he looked lost.
Coach Flaherty didn’t help matters. He bellowed out commands and corrections so fast that even Manny, who had more of a clue than Sean about how to play second base, had trouble following the instructions. After several frustrating minutes, Sean looked ready to drop his glove and walk away.
Manny didn’t want to see that happen. He liked Sean and thought he showed promise as a ballplayer. He realized, too, that Stu had been right the day before: Manny knew more about what infielders were supposed to do than he thought he did. He also remembered what Stu had said to Sean about them being a team and how when one player improved, the team improved as a whole.
With that in mind, he screwed up his courage and approached the coach with a suggestion.
“Coach Flaherty, if you want, I could give Sean some pointers on playing second base,” he said. “That way, he’ll be ready for the game on Wednesday—you know, in case Stu isn’t feeling better by then.”
The coach considered the idea and then nodded. “Can’t hurt. Might help. Find a spot off the field somewhere and go over the basics with him.”
“Thanks, Manny,” Sean said as they jogged to a vacant side of the field. “Maybe it’s only me, but when the coach starts yelling like that, I just about can’t take it!”
“It’s not just you,” Manny reassured him. “It makes me crazy, too!” He lowered his voice even though they were out of earshot. “Know why we don’t have an assistant coach like a lot of the other teams do? He scared them all off with his bellowing!”
Sean stifled a laugh. “The way he barks, I sometimes think our team name should be Bulldogs instead of Grizzlies!”
“Yeah, and his growl is just as scary,” Manny said, grinning. Then he saw the coach looking at them and added hurriedly, “Let’s get to work!”
9
Manny crouched down and drew a baseball diamond in the dirt. “As the second baseman, you own the right side of the infield,” he said, indicating the area from second base to the foul line by first base. “If the ball is hit in here, you go for it. And after you field the ball, you send it to first.”
Sean nodded but asked, “Should I throw th
e ball underhand to the first baseman to make it easier for him to catch?”
Manny thought about how Stu usually threw. “I’d throw hard. If you go too easy, he might have to come off the bag to reach the ball.”
Sean nodded again.
“Of course, it’s more important for your throws to be accurate and quick, not powerful,” Manny continued. “Most times after you field the ball, you’ll need to send it fast to either first or second for an out.”
“The shortstop covers second for me when I’m not on the bag, right?”
“Right,” Manny said. “And there are plenty of times when you won’t be on the bag. That’s because you’ll be covering first when the first baseman moves in to field the ball. And you have to help out in other places, too. The outfielders have the strongest arms on the team, but if the ball is hit really deep, even they might not be able to get the ball where it needs to be in one throw. That’s where you come in.”
He pointed to the shallow infield on the diagram. “You head to the cutoff spot. The outfielder nabs the ball and throws to you. Then you have to know exactly where to throw to make the play. Of course, if the play is to home—to me or Ray Speroni, if he’s catching that inning—then, yeah, you need a strong arm.”
“Not a problem,” Sean said. “I can throw pretty hard.”
The memory of Stu crumpling to the dirt flashed through Manny’s brain. Sean must have had the same thought, for he suddenly looked ill at ease. Their eyes met for a brief second before they both looked away.
“Yeah, um, so anyway…” Manny explained a few more basics to Sean, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He was too busy thinking about Stu.
I’ll stop by his house after practice, he decided. Just to be sure he’s better. And if he’s not…
He shoved that thought away.
A few minutes later, Coach Flaherty called Manny and Sean back to the regular practice. He sent them to their positions and spent the next half hour running through drills with the infield while the outfield took batting practice.
Manny was pleased to see that Sean performed better than he had before they had talked. Sean shone when he was called on to bat, too, earning him a rare nod of approval from the coach.
Coach Flaherty gathered the team together soon after that.
“We have one more practice scheduled before the big game on Wednesday,” he boomed. “To get us in the competitive spirit, I’ve arranged for that practice to be a scrimmage against the Dolphins. They’ll meet us here at four o’clock. I’d like you all to show up at three thirty, though, so I can make changes to the roster in case either Jason or Stu is still out.”
Ray Speroni raised his hand. “I’m going to Jason’s house after this to see how he’s doing,” he said. “I’ll tell him about the time change.”
“I’ll let Stu know, too, if you want,” Manny put in.
The coach nodded his acceptance of both offers and then tapped his clipboard against his leg. “Hopefully, we’ll be able to go with our original lineup. If we do have to start off with a sub, however”—he looked around for Sean—“Wilson, you’ll be my first choice. I like what I saw from you out there today. Good work.”
Manny and the rest of the Grizzlies looked at Sean. Sean turned a deep red. But at least this time, Manny thought, it’s because he’s flattered and not because he’s being chewed out!
Coach Flaherty set his clipboard aside and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, about the championship game: You’ve heard this before, but it’s worth saying again. It’s not whether you win or lose but how you play the game. Right?”
The team responded with a chorus of “Right!”
“That being said,” the coach continued, “I doubt any one of you will be happy if you go home with a defeat in your pocket. I know I won’t be. In fact, I expect you all to bring your A game to the field so we can ship those Sharks out to sea!”
Practice ended with a resounding cheer, although Manny saw worried looks on a few of his teammates’ faces. Nothing like a little extra pressure from the coach to take the fun out of the competition, he thought. With an inward sigh, he picked up his gear, shoved it into his bag, and took off for Stu’s house.
10
Manny wondered if Stu would still be sleeping. But when he entered their neighborhood, he found him in his front yard, throwing a baseball against a pitchback.
“Hey, you’re out of bed!” Manny called. “How are you feeling?”
Stu made a face. “Like an idiot for sleeping through practice! I can’t believe my mom didn’t wake me up when you stopped by.”
Manny laughed. “So no more headache? No more stomach problems?”
Stu leaned over and picked up three baseballs from the ground. “If I weren’t okay, would I be able to do this?”
He tossed the balls one by one into the air over his head, the start of his usual juggling pattern. But unlike the day before, when he’d kept them going effortlessly, today something went wrong. The balls fell to his feet and rolled away.
“Guess my timing is a little off,” Stu said. He tilted his head and squinted. “That, plus, the sun got in my eyes.”
Manny glanced up. The sun was partially hidden behind a big cloud.
“So tell me,” Stu said, bringing Manny’s attention back to him, “was the coach totally cheesed off at me for missing practice?”
Manny dropped his gear, picked up a ball, and tossed it against the pitchback. “Aw, don’t worry about him,” he said, standing back to let Stu make the catch. “He was too busy ordering Sean around to think about you.”
Stu paused in mid-throw. “Sean? Why was the coach yelling at him? I thought he was doing pretty well at shortstop after our coaching yesterday.”
Manny explained that Jason was going to be back in the lineup the next day. “So Coach Flaherty put Taylor in at short and shifted Sean to second.” He gave a little laugh and added, “Sean didn’t have a clue about what to do in your position until I gave him a little bit of extra coaching. Now, thanks to my impressive knowledge”—he pretended to polish his fingernails on his lapel—“I think he’d make a pretty good replacement for you if he had to be.”
Manny thought Stu would be pleased to hear about Sean’s improvement; after all, he himself had said that when a teammate played better, the team as a whole played better.
But Stu just stared at the ground for a long minute. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were blazing. “So you think Sean’s better than me, huh? Some friend you are!”
Manny was taken aback by Stu’s sudden anger. He held up his hands defensively. “Whoa, hold on! I never said that! I just said that he had improved, that’s all.”
“And that he should replace me,” Stu said.
“That he could replace you,” Manny corrected. “Not should. Could. But now he won’t be doing that because, you know, you’re fine and will be back at second tomorrow. Right?”
Stu eyed him with a suspicious expression. Then he blinked a few times and his face cleared. “Yeah, yeah, right. I’ll be there.”
“That reminds me,” Manny said. “The coach wants us on the field at three thirty so he can finalize the roster.”
“Okay,” Stu said. He tossed his ball from one hand to the other and then popped it high up into the air, following it with his eyes. But when he reached out to catch it, the ball grazed his fingertips and dropped to the ground. He kicked at it, muttering, “Stupid sun.”
Manny didn’t need to look up again to know the sky was thick with steel-gray clouds. He had felt the temperature change and couldn’t see his shadow at all. He didn’t point that out to Stu, though. Instead, he gathered up his gear and said he had to go. “See you at school tomorrow.”
“Yeah, okay,” Stu replied. “I have to go in anyway.”
But when Manny looked back a moment later, he saw Stu still standing in the yard, staring at the baseball in his hand.
The worm of worry in Manny’s stomach gave a sudden twist. He tr
ied to ignore it, but it continued to gnaw at him through the rest of the day.
In fact, it didn’t go away until the bus ride to school the next morning. He was in his usual seat and had just taken out his notebook of scorecards to look through when Stu boarded, slid in next to him, and started talking about the movie he’d seen the night before. He seemed so much like himself that Manny finally relaxed.
The movie Stu had seen turned out to be the same time-travel mystery that Manny and his family had watched earlier in the week. They talked about the film the rest of the way to school and were arguing over one of the more complicated plotlines in homeroom when their teacher pointed out it was time to be quiet.
“I’ll tell you why you’re wrong at lunch,” Stu whispered when the teacher’s back was turned.
Manny whispered back, “And I’ll tell you why you and your theory are out to lunch!”
But when the two boys met later in the cafeteria, Stu seemed to have forgotten all about their argument. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten all about the movie itself until Manny started outlining the plot to him.
“Oh, yeah, I guess I did see that movie,” Stu said vaguely. “It must have been a while ago, though, because I don’t really remember much of it.”
Manny blinked. “But—but you watched it just last night!” No matter how much he tried to convince Stu of that fact, however, Stu refused to believe it.
So after a few minutes, Manny gave up. He gave up on eating, too. The worry worm in his gut made that impossible.
11
Manny didn’t see Stu for the rest of the school day. After school, his mother picked him up and took him for a haircut, so he didn’t see him on the bus ride home, either. And since he went straight from the barbershop to the baseball field, he didn’t stop by Stu’s house to get him.
Out at Second Page 3
