“Did you tell the folks why Helen is interested in acrobatics, Elaine?” Mr. Lacey asked his wife. She blushed and smiled. “No. I just said that Helen had seen Sharon practicing here on the lawn and I thought it would be nice if the two got acquainted.”
“That’s just like you.” Cab Lacey chuckled. “My wife’s too modest. She used to be a gymnast of Olympic caliber. She would have gone to the Olympic Games, too, if it hadn’t been for an injury. Strange as it seems, that’s how we met. I was getting my bum throwing arm looked at when they brought Elaine in on a stretcher. I think that’s the last time I’ve ever seen her look helpless!”
The grown-ups laughed.
“I doubt Elaine would have ever done anything with gymnastics again if it hadn’t been for Helen. Helen found some old movies of Elaine performing and fell in love with the sport. She begged and pleaded her mother to teach her until Elaine finally gave in.” Cab Lacey shot a glance at Wally. “Seems to me most kids know deep down what they’re good at. They just need a little help getting there sometimes.”
“How about you, Cab?” inquired Wally’s dad. “I heard that you had some sort of career in professional baseball.”
Mr. Lacey smiled shyly. “Hardly enough to talk about, Paul,” he said.
“Cab is a pretty modest guy, himself,” said Mrs. Lacey. “He had a professional career and was very disappointed when his arm went bad while pitching. He blamed the manager for working him too much. He had to give up baseball. I tried to make him forget it, but he loves it too much.” Her eyes shone happily as she looked at Wally. “That’s why you see him at all your Little League games. He really wants to help kids enjoy the game as much as he does.”
Wally felt Cab Lacey looking at him again. “The thing is, I never really wanted to learn to pitch. But pitching’s not for everyone, is it, Wally? I always wondered what my career would have been like if I had stuck to my guns instead of letting my manager talk me into that position.”
Wally stared at his toes. He wanted to tell Mr. Lacey that he had decided to speak up to Coach Hutter. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.
“Well” — Mrs. Lacey rose hastily to her feet — “we must be going. Cab must be starving. And I bet Wally is, too.”
It wasn’t until she mentioned it, though, that Wally realized he was really famished. “Sort of,” he said, smiling.
After eating a dish of scalloped potatoes and bacon that his mom warmed up for him, Wally ran over to Sawbones Davis’s house. Chris McCray was there. They were in Sawbones’s room, looking over the plastic models of different animals’ anatomy that Sawbones had collected.
The boys all greeted each other.
“Hey, Sawbones, could you get out your encyclopedia of sports?” asked Wally. “I want to look up something in it.”
Sawbones took the encyclopedia off a shelf where about thirty other books were standing. It was a huge book of about fifteen hundred pages. Wally leafed through it.
“What’re you looking for?” Chris asked wonderingly.
“I want to see if I can find it first,” replied Wally.
Twenty minutes later he found what he was looking for. His heart swelled as he read the item over twice.
“There.” He pointed at it. “Read that. It’s about Cab Lacey. He played with Williamsport in the New York—Penn League four years. He had a good pitching record. But it doesn’t tell everything about him,” he added discouragingly. “These books never do.”
Sawbones frowned. “What doesn’t it tell about him?”
“That his arm went bad. That he couldn’t pitch anymore. These books don’t tell you those things about a ballplayer.”
12
Wally and Sharon were eating lunch the next day when the telephone rang. Mrs. Morris went to answer it.
“Yes, this is Ann,” she said. “No. She’s not here.”
A moment later her eyes widened and flitted around worriedly. Wally could tell that whatever she was hearing was upsetting her considerably.
“Just a moment, Elaine,” she said, and cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “Did either of you children see Helen?” she inquired. “Helen Lacey?”
Sharon shook her head. “I haven’t. Not since yesterday.”
“Me neither,” said Wally. His brows lifted. “Why, Mom? Don’t they know where she is?”
“No. She left the house about ten-thirty and was supposed to be home by twelve.”
She took her hand off the mouthpiece and told Mrs. Lacey that neither Wally nor Sharon knew where Helen was. When she hung up, she still looked extremely worried.
She sat at the table and began eating with the children.
“She might’ve gone to Jeannie Hutter’s,” Sharon said suddenly. “Jeannie followed us all over creation yesterday. Just like a shadow.”
“I’ll call Mrs. Hutter,” Mrs. Morris said. She brushed a napkin across her mouth and again went to the phone.
Wally and Sharon watched her as she talked to Mrs. Hutter. Her eyes went wide again and started flitting around as they did before. After a while she hung up.
“Jeannie’s not home. She’s gone with a friend somewhere. Mrs. Hutter doesn’t know who that friend is, but she thinks it’s Helen.”
All at once Sharon struck the tabletop with a spoon. Both Mrs. Morris and Wally jumped, startled.
“I’ll bet Jeannie took Helen to the quarry!” Sharon’s voice was almost a shout. “Jeannie always likes to go to the quarry!”
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Wally. “Not there! You never know when they might blast!”
Fear enveloped Wally. He couldn’t eat anymore. He was going to look for those girls. That silly Jeannie Hutter. She should have more brains than to take a girl who couldn’t talk or hear to a dangerous quarry.
“I’m going to look for them!” he cried, and scrambled out the door.
“I’m going with you!” cried Sharon.
“I’ll drive you!” Mrs. Morris called.
They drove down the side streets to the edge of town, then down a dirt road that led to the quarry. It was a limestone quarry, used for the manufacturing of cement.
Mrs. Morris told Wally and Sharon that she was going to find a quarry manager, then disappeared into a building. Wally climbed out of the car. After a moment, Sharon followed. Without a word, they started toward the ridge of the quarry at a run.
Wally and Sharon reached the ledge and stopped. They panted from running so hard, and from being frightened about the danger that could be facing Helen and Jeannie.
Carefully they looked below and all around the huge, gray, silent quarry. In the distance, smoke was unfurling from the tall, thin column of a small factory where the stone was hauled by trucks and crushed into many different sizes and then delivered by trucks throughout the state. Here and there were huge piles of earth covered with weeds. But the girls were not in sight.
A whistle began to blow. It started off softly, then rose higher and higher until it reached a very high pitch. It held there steadily, drowning out all the other sounds one had heard before.
It was the warning signal, indicating that in two minutes there was going to be a blast.
“They aren’t here,” said Wally. Relief swept over him. “Let’s go.”
And then Sharon’s face turned white. “Wally, look! Over there! It’s Jeannie and Helen!”
13
Sharon, run back and get Mom! I’ll go after those girls.”
Sharon stared after her brother, as if not knowing whether to obey him or go with him.
“I can get down these rocks faster than you!” Wally shouted at her. “Get going!”
She turned and scampered up the dirt road. Wally started down the side of the quarry, sliding, stumbling, hopping from one jagged rock to another. The quarry wasn’t very deep. It was only seconds before he reached the bottom.
“Here!” he shouted to the girls. “Here!”
He was sure, though, that they — that Jeannie — couldn’t hear him with that
whistle shrieking so loudly.
He ran, stumbling again now and then, over the rough stretch of rock. There was danger in running: the chance of falling, of bruises, of spraining an ankle. Wally thought of these things, but he had to keep running. He had to get to those girls.
He saw them again. Jeannie was in front, running fast, and holding on to Helen’s hand. For just an instant a tender warmth clasped Wally’s heart. Jeannie was frightened for Helen. She was doing her best to help Helen out of the danger zone by hanging tightly on to her hand.
The girls saw him, too. They ran toward him.
“This is the noon hour!” cried Jeannie, as they met. Her eyes were rimmed with tears. “I didn’t know they blasted during the noon hour!”
“They blast any time of the day!” Wally yelled back. “Come on! Let’s get under a ledge.”
Jeannie did as Wally suggested. Wally led them swiftly back over the rocks toward the ledge. The whistle was still blowing. It must have been blowing nearly two minutes by now, he thought. At any second it would stop. There would be a pause for thirty seconds. And then the blast.
Suddenly the whistle ceased blowing. It left a silence that was almost as eerie as the piercing sound of the whistle had been.
“We have thirty seconds!” shouted Wally frantically. “Come on!”
He led them to a ledge where the wall was almost vertical. He told Jeannie to get against the wall, and gestured to Helen to do likewise. Then he stood against the wall beside them — and waited.
A moment later an explosion seemed to rock the earth beneath their feet. Far to their right side a cloud of dust burst skyward, accompanied by rocks that flew like meteors in every direction, landing in the quarry and on the empty field beside it.
Dozens of rocks came flying in the direction of Wally and the girls. None of them landed close. In a little while all the rocks had fallen. All that remained of the blast was the huge dust cloud in the distance being blown slowly away by the breeze.
Wally looked at Helen with relief and smiled. Her eyes were wide, filled with fear, astonishment. She must have felt the vibration, Wally thought. And she could see the cloud of dust. She just hadn’t heard the warning whistle, and the loud noise of the blast.
The fear and astonishment disappeared quickly as she saw the smile on Wally’s face. She lifted a hand and moved her fingers, and Wally figured that she was thanking him.
Another whistle blew for a few seconds, the signal that the blasting was over.
“Thank you so much, Wally,” Mrs. Hutter said after he had explained the whole story. “If those girls had gotten caught in that quarry with those big rocks falling all around them, they would never have gotten out alive.” She was breathing hard and perspiring freely, and Wally knew she must have been very upset by his story.
“Don’t you ever go to the quarry again,” she said to Jeannie, her eyes sparkling with anger. “Not ever.”
Jeannie’s eyes blinked with tears. “I just wanted Helen and me to be friends, Mother,” she murmured sorrowfully. “She’d never seen a quarry before.”
“How do you know she hasn’t?”
“I asked her. I wrote the question on a piece of paper. And she answered me. She said no she hadn’t, and she’d like to see it. I didn’t know they blasted during the noon hour.”
Mrs. Hutter’s lips quivered. Slowly the anger left her eyes. She put a comforting arm around her daughter’s shoulder.
“All right, Jeannie. Let’s forget it now. I’ll call Mrs. Lacey. I’ll tell her that Helen is on her way home.”
14
That evening Wally received a phone call from Mr. Hutter.
“Wally, Mrs. Hutter told me what you did today. That was a fine showing of courage.”
Wally shrugged, forgetting that Mr. Hutter couldn’t see him. “It wasn’t much, Coach. Probably none of the stones would have hit them anyway.”
“They might have if you hadn’t shown up. You risked your life to save those girls.” Mr. Hutter chuckled. “Jeannie thinks you’re a real hero!”
Wally laughed. “Oh, I’m no hero. And don’t be mad at her, Mr. Hutter. She just didn’t know that they dynamited during the noon hour.”
“I know, Wally. I heard all about it. Well, good night, fella. See you at the ball park.”
“Good night, Coach.”
After Wally replaced the telephone receiver, he began to think a bit. If he had saved Jeannie’s life, as Mr. Hutter had said he had, then he had paid back a debt he owed to Mr. Hutter for having saved his own life. He didn’t have to feel that he owed a thing to Mr. Hutter anymore.
But it wasn’t right to think that way either, he decided. No, the only way he was ever going to get off the mound and back into right field where he belonged was to talk to the coach directly. Cab Lacey’s story had convinced him of that. He was determined to speak to the coach before the next game.
But Tuesday, when the Pacers played the Warriors, Coach Hutter was too busy getting ready for the game for Wally to take him aside. Before he knew what was happening, he was on the mound again.
The Warriors had first raps. The first hitter for them was a peewee. Wally tried to throw the ball over the plate between the little guy’s shoulders and knees, but just couldn’t make it. The peewee walked.
The next Warrior laid down a bunt. Wally expected it. But the ball rolled toward third just inside the baseline and he couldn’t get it in time. The batter was credited with a hit, and the runner on first made it safely to second.
Wally began to sweat. The fans were trying to encourage him. The infielders were trying to encourage him. But none of it did him any good. His heart pounded as he stepped to the mound. He got the signal from Chris, stretched, and delivered.
Another bunt! This time it was a poor one. The ball rolled straight toward the pitcher’s mound. Wally ran forward, fielded it, and pegged to third. Rocky caught the ball for the force-out, then heaved it to second. The runner reached there in time.
The next hitter walloped a drive over second for a clean hit. A run scored. A ground ball to Rocky resulted in another out at third. Then a foul fly, which Chris caught, ended the top of the first inning.
Lee Benton started things off with a walk. Sawbones popped out to third, and Dick Lewis grounded out, bringing up Rocky with Wally on deck.
Rocky socked a single through short, but Lee was held up on second by Ken Asher, who was coaching third. Wally, batting fifth today, waited out the pitcher, and got a 2-and-2 count.
He stepped out of the box and dabbed his hands on the dust to dry the sweat. He took a deep breath and stepped back in. He didn’t feel right. He just didn’t.
The pitch came in. Crack! The ball bounced down to third. The third baseman caught it and stepped on the bag, and the half-inning was over.
The Warriors got a hit in the top of the second, but nothing came of it. When the Pacers came to bat, they rallied for two runs. The Warriors came right back and started pounding Wally without mercy. They got three men on before an out was made.
Coach Hutter called time and walked out to the mound. “Wally,” he said, “what’s going on out here? If you ever want to be a good pitcher, you’ve got to learn to concentrate.”
“But that’s just it, Coach!” Wally blurted. “I don’t want to be a pitcher! I just don’t feel right in this position.”
Coach Hutter looked surprised. After a moment, he said, “How long have you felt this way, Wally?”
“Always, I guess,” Wally said, hanging his head down. “I’m sorry, Coach. I know you hoped I’d be just like Del, but I’m not.”
The home plate umpire gave a shout, signaling that time was running out. Either Coach Hutter had to replace Wally or let the game continue. Coach Hutter called for Terry Towns to check in for Wally. Then he walked Wally off the field and sat him down in the dugout.
“Wally, I’m glad you told me how you feel. I’m sorry I put you in such a tough position — and I’m not talking about pitcher, either,
though I guess that’s been rough on you, too. You and Del were good friends, but that doesn’t mean you had the exact same likes and dislikes or strengths and weaknesses. I’ve just been too blind to see that.”
Wally toyed with his glove, then looked up at the coach. “I miss him, too, Coach,” he whispered.
Coach Hutter smiled at Wally, his eyes a warm blue. “Then let’s go out there and win this game for him. What do you say?”
Wally breathed deeply. “Does this mean I’m still in the game?”
Coach Hutter smiled at him. “We need your hitting power, fella. You want a chance to get back those runs, don’t you?”
Wally’s heart leaped. “Yes!” he said happily.
“Okay. Take right field in place of Jamie Ferris. And, Wally —”
“Yes, Coach?”
“When you get to bat, drive that ball down their throats.”
Wally’s face lit up brightly. “I will!” he cried, and sprinted out to the outfield.
The coach waved Jamie in from right field, talked with Terry a bit on the mound, then walked off the diamond. The crowd cheered for Wally, but the biggest cheer sounded for Terry.
“Come on, Terry!” yelled the fans, as Terry threw in some warm-up pitches. “Let’s get those Warriors out!”
Terry pitched hard and did a good job. The Warriors went scoreless for three innings.
Rocky led off again in the bottom of the fifth. He socked a two-one pitch for a double between left and center fields for his third hit of the game. The crowd applauded him. Rocky was having a great day.
Wally stepped to the box. He tapped the tip of his bat upon the hard-rubber plate, then lifted the bat to a spot a few inches over his left shoulder and waited for the pitch.
“Strike!”
Another pitch. He swung. Crack!
The ball lifted into the sky toward right field. The crowd started yelling almost im mediately. Everyone knew where that ball was going. . . .
Over the fence for a home run!
The Reluctant Pitcher Page 4
