Double Play

by Tim Green

  “I don’t think he’s gonna buy that.” Jalen shook his head. “Cat said the box seats at Fenway are costing him ten grand, and then throw in my five-grand fee on top of that. I can’t imagine him paying fifteen thousand dollars for me to help him out and leave after the sixth inning, or whenever it’d be.”

  “Well,” Daniel said, “maybe we won’t make it to the championship game.”

  “Hey, Daniel, what did you just say?” Gertz burst in between them with his room key in hand. “Maybe we won’t make it to the championship? I don’t know about your old team, but this is the Bronxville Bandits. We always make it to the championship game.”

  Gertz wasn’t being unpleasant, just reciting a historical fact.

  “Of course.” Daniel’s face reddened, and he forced a laugh. “Bandits. Championships. I forgot which team I’m on now.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Gertz turned to Jalen. “Come on, roomie, let’s catch the first elevator.”

  The coaches had given them only fifteen minutes to settle in before they were to meet in the lobby. Jalen and Daniel followed Gertz through the lobby to the elevator bank and stepped onto the first one that opened. Fanny hustled aboard too. The doors were closing when a hand reached in to stop them.

  “No room!” Fanny yelled.

  When the doors parted on Coach Allen’s grim face, Fanny said, “Sorry, Coach. Didn’t know it was you.”

  “I think your good manners should extend to everyone, Fanny. Not just your coaches. You represent this team.” The coach let his stern gaze linger on Fanny before he turned his eyes to Jalen. “Jalen, put your stuff in your room and then head right down to the lobby. You and I need to talk.”

  The doors began to close again, but this time Coach Allen let them go.

  The elevator doors thumped shut and as the car began to move, Fanny said, “Uh-oh.”

  65

  “WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?” whispered Fanny as the elevator rose. “It didn’t look good.”

  “Oh, he always gets uptight before a tournament.” Gertz tried to wave the tension away with his hand as he turned to Jalen. “You’ll be fine.”

  The bell dinged and they all got off on seven.

  “I don’t know,” said Fanny as he led the way down the hall. “Coach doesn’t normally scold the Fanny.”

  “Dude, you screamed ‘no room’ when there were four of us on the elevator.” Gertz stuck the key in his door.

  “The Fanny likes a little privacy.” Fanny turned toward his own door across the hall. “Coach has to understand that.”

  Jalen dumped his gear bag and his duffel on the bed by the window and turned to go.

  “Want me to go with you?” Gertz asked.

  “I better go alone,” Jalen said. “But thanks, Gertzy.”

  Downstairs, Coach Allen sat on one of the lobby couches, busy on his phone.

  “You wanted to see me, Coach?”

  “Hey. Yeah, grab a seat.” Coach Allen spoke in a pleasant tone and that allowed Jalen to relax a bit. “So, I heard from JY that he’d to like you to be at the Red Sox game on Sunday.”

  “I know,” Jalen said. “And the championship game is supposed to start at three o’clock.”

  “If you’re helping JY Sunday, and we make it to the championship, you’ll miss at least half our game, maybe most or all of it,” said the coach. “Jalen, look, I know JY paid your fee, and it’s important that you help him out, but when he and I spoke, he said I might have to make some accommodations for practice. This is a pretty big game. Now, I’m not going to tell you what to do here, but I do think you’re going to have to make a decision soon on whether you want to be a baseball player or a baseball genius. You’ve got a nice bat, and your ability to focus in the field along with some quick feet gives you a huge upside on defense, but all these things need to be developed, and you can’t do that while you’re in the stands watching the Yankees. Do you get what I’m saying?”

  “Yes, Coach.”

  “It’s too bad it didn’t work out for tonight,” Coach Allen said. “That would’ve been perfect, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you’ll get to see the Yankees anyway.”

  “Coach?”

  “I’m surprising the team.” Coach Allen stood. “We’re going to Fenway for tonight’s game. You ever seen the Green Monster?”

  “On TV.”

  “Well, you’re in for a treat,” the coach said. “Oldest active ballpark in America. I love this place.”

  Cat arrived in time to join the team for burgers at Shake Shack before they got back on the bus and crossed the river to Fenway Park. The streets around the stadium were narrow and buzzing with people. Restaurants and storefronts all had a baseball association. The pale green ribs of the Green Monster’s steel skeleton rose up and jutted out over the street like some mad carnival ride. Red-and-blue caps and clothes dominated the landscape, but there was an occasional navy Yankees cap or a white pin-striped jersey in the sea of Red Sox fans.

  The bus let them out into the swarm of fans and the swirl of smells dominated by sausages, beer, and cotton candy. The team followed their coaches in through a brick archway, past the ticket takers, and up the stairs into the green-seated grandstands behind right field. When they got to their section, Coach Allen handed each of them a ticket stub.

  Cat stopped in front of Jalen. “Wait, row thirty-seven?”

  She peered down the row and turned back to Jalen. “Have you got seat twenty-one?”

  Jalen looked at the stub Coach Allen had randomly given him. “Yeah.”

  “No way.” Cat took the ticket and looked at it. “You do. The red seat. Do you know how lucky that is? That is so lucky.”

  “Why? What’s the red seat?” Daniel asked from behind Jalen.

  “It’s the Ted Williams seat,” she said. “On June 9, 1946, Ted Williams hit the longest home run ever in Fenway Park. Five hundred and two feet, and they put a red seat where it hit. Can you believe that? Over seventy years ago and no one has ever hit it that far again.”

  “It’s good luck, amigo,” Daniel said as they edged down the row to their seats.

  “It’s great luck,” Cat said.

  They sat down with everyone and watched the game. But whatever luck Jalen got from the red seat didn’t extend to the Yankees. The Red Sox smoked them 7–0, and as expected, JY didn’t get any action. The team filed out and walked several blocks to meet their bus. On the way back to the hotel, Jalen called his dad. Even though it was late, his father was still in the thick of things at the diner, so Jalen said good night, and his father wished him luck. Jalen held off telling him about the lucky red seat, still hoping some of the luck might rub off. It was eleven o’clock by the time they got back, and everyone turned in right away.

  Jalen was lying in the dark with his eyes open when Gertz asked him if he was awake.

  “I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow.”

  “Well, that’s normal.” Gertz’s voice rang out clearly in the dark. “It’s a big day for you. It’s the beginning of a new chapter. It’s the beginning.”

  “The beginning?” Jalen asked. “Of what?”

  “Of your new life.”

  Jalen wanted to ask Gertz why he said that with so much confidence. Why did his new friend believe that this time, in this place, everything would turn out right?

  He’d love to have that feeling.

  Jalen wouldn’t say that out loud, though. Instead he slept, troubled by dreams of strikeouts, bad restaurant reviews, and the funeral of the grandparents he’d never known.

  66

  THE BANDITS’ FIRST GAME THE next day was against a team from Havertown, Pennsylvania. They were a tall team, every one of them, with a tall coach, and that made the Bandits look like a ragtag bunch, until they began to play. When the score was 14–2, Coach Allen put Daniel in the game to pitch.

  “Let’s see what you got,” said the coach.

  Daniel sprinted to the mound and threw his fir
st pitch so wild that Fanny couldn’t even get his glove on it. The Bandits all laughed in a good-natured way, and Coach Allen cupped his hands and raised his voice. “You’ll be fine, Daniel. One pitch at a time. Just relax.”

  Daniel shook out his arms, took a big breath, and blew it out. His next pitch went right down the middle, but the Havertown player caught hold of it. From second base Jalen leaped into the air, stretched his glove, and snagged it. The bleachers erupted with applause, and his teammates and coaches showered him with praise.

  Daniel turned and grinned at him from the mound. “I’ll set them up, and you knock them down.”

  “You got it, amigo,” Jalen replied, giving him a thumbs-up.

  Daniel gave up four hits and one run in that final inning, but he got out of a tight spot at the end to seal the win, and his new teammates swamped him with back slaps and high fives. For his part, Jalen had hit a home run and a single, striking out just once and walking once. He also made several nice plays in the field.

  They had pizza for lunch at a place just off Harvard Square, then spent some time by the pool before their second game later in the day. Cat’s mom appeared and showed her and Jalen the three tickets JY had secured for them for Sunday.

  “They’re in the same spot as the ones he got for us at Yankee Stadium, right up against the wall near the dugout.” Cat’s mom frowned. “He wouldn’t even tell me how much they cost. It must have been a lot. He also asked me to remind you to hold the four-fingers sign under your chin if you think it’s going to come in high. Does that make sense to you?”

  “Yup,” Jalen said. “I got it.”

  • • •

  The Bandits won their late afternoon game, but only by a 5–3 score, and Coach Allen put Gertz in to finish the last inning and seal the win. They had been keeping Gertz in reserve, saving him to start in the championship game if they got there.

  The tournament organizers were based in Dillon Fieldhouse, next to the ball fields. Outside was a big board with all the brackets for the various age groups. On it were the results, and after their second game, Jalen saw that the Bandits and the Rockets were on a collision course for the finals. The Bandits had to beat a team from Buffalo, New York, and the Rockets one from Portland, Maine, to make it happen.

  Everyone talked about the tournament and what it would be like to play Rockton for the second time in a row while Daniel kept them all entertained with his scouting report on their former team.

  “Watch out for their ace pitcher, Chris Gamble.” Daniel’s voice sounded like he was telling a ghost story. “He’s the coach’s son, and his breath could knock down a dinosaur.”

  Everyone laughed. They crossed the bridge beneath the darkening sky, with downtown Boston glimmering at them from the distance, and the river below. A comfortable breeze slipped past, and without thinking, Jalen put his arm around Cat’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

  Almost instantly he felt silly, but when she leaned her head against his shoulder, he knew it was all right. Still, when Daniel turned around to ask Jalen if he should tell the story about how they put rabbit poo in Chris’s lunch bag, Jalen dropped his arm quickly and told him to go ahead and tell it, and the Bandits players howled with delight.

  “So, I’m not just a fabulous pitcher.” Daniel chuckled. “I’m an expert joker, too.”

  “You’re no Fanny, though,” someone said, kicking it off.

  “Who’s talking about my Fanny?”

  “Let’s save the Fanny talk for later. There’s a lady present.”

  “Ladies like a good Fanny.”

  “Just don’t touch my Fanny.”

  They laughed and talked, and in the twilight, it felt magical to Jalen, like a band of friends lost in time and space. Everyone voted for another meal at Shake Shack before walking back to the hotel. They entered the hotel lobby in one big group, bubbling with laughter and making all kinds of noise until Coach Allen gave his whistle a short toot to get their attention and told them all to get right up to their rooms.

  “Bed check in thirty minutes,” he barked. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  When Cat got off the elevator on the fourth floor, where she and her mom were staying, she turned and said good night to everyone, but Jalen was pretty certain when their eyes met that she was saying something more to him without actually saying it. Like, they were best friends forever.

  After watching the Yankees drop their second game to the Red Sox by a 3–1 score, Jalen said good night to Gertzy and put out the light. When his phone buzzed, he read the text to him and Cat. It was from JY, asking if they were ready for tomorrow. Jalen didn’t know if he was ready, but he was so tired from a long day of baseball that he felt himself drifting off immediately. And it wasn’t JY or Daniel or Chris that his last thoughts were about. They weren’t even about his mom.

  Instead he thought about Cat.

  67

  THEIR GAME AGAINST BUFFALO WAS the first time slot Sunday morning, but it went as planned. The Bandits got on top early and stayed there. They celebrated with a chant after shaking hands, but the festive air from the night before was gone. The Rockets were playing Portland on the main field at eleven o’clock, and the Bandits marched right over there to watch so they’d be prepared to face the winner in the championship at three o’clock.

  It felt weird to Jalen to be rooting for Dirk and Chris and Caleb, but he needed the Rockets to defeat Portland. It was the only way the Bandits could smash them in the finals. Gertzy’s arm was well rested—they hadn’t needed him to throw a single pitch against Buffalo—and Jalen knew that even with Chris at his very best, the Bandits could whip them.

  It was a 2–2 tie late in the third inning of the Rockets game when Cat tapped Jalen’s arm. “Come on. My mom’s in the parking lot. It’s time.”

  It wasn’t that Jalen had forgotten he was supposed to go to Fenway Park to help JY against Porcello—he hadn’t. It was just that the job of being JY’s baseball genius was messing with the anticipated thrill of beating his old team and putting Chris in his place once and for all.

  So when Jalen spoke, it was without thinking. “I’ve got to be here for the game. I’ve got to be.”

  “Wait. What?”

  68

  “COACH ALLEN TOLD ME I have to decide if I want to be a baseball player or a baseball genius, Cat.” Jalen lowered his voice to keep the conversation between the two of them.

  “You can’t back out!” Cat erupted, and Jalen knew by the look on her face that he and Cat were going to have a big problem. “What about the double play? Doing both? We can help JY, and you can still make it back for the last couple innings. You can do both.”

  Jalen felt pulled in two directions. “You know what they say, when you try to do two things at once, you don’t do either of them well.”

  “Who even said that?” Cat’s face turned red.

  “I don’t know. Someone did, though.”

  Cat was boiling over. “You made a deal. I made a deal, the deal. If JY hadn’t paid the fee, you wouldn’t even be here.”

  “I could pay him back.” Jalen tried to sound casual and confident. “My dad is doing well now.”

  “Because JY made the Silver Liner famous!” Cat stuck her face right in his so her breath tickled his nose.

  “I can’t just walk away from my team, Cat.” Jalen leaned back. “They’ll need me. I can beat Chris at the plate. If I get a hit off him, it’ll mess with his head. He could fall apart, and we could crush them. Do you know how sweet that would be after everything?”

  Cat stared at him for a moment. “Jalen, listen to yourself. You can’t do this. The Bandits can win this without you, but for JY . . . this could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. It could end his career.”

  The crack of a bat drew their attention back to the field just in time to see Chris scoop up a worm-burner, stomp on the bag at first where he was playing, pivot, and rifle the ball to second for a double play. Chris double-pumped his fists into th
e air and roared a battle cry worthy of his Neanderthal forefathers. Jalen ached to ruin his day.

  But his mind was filled with thoughts of his father and the things JY had done—for them both.

  His father’s voice seemed to echo in his ear. A man who don’t keep his word, he’s no man.

  69

  JALEN TURNED TO DANIEL, WHO’D been watching their discussion with wide eyes. He bumped fists with his friend before heading down the aisle.

  Coach Allen was sitting in the end seat a few rows down, and as he passed him, Jalen said, “I gotta go do that thing at Fenway, Coach. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m so sorry.”

  Coach Allen let out a heavy sigh, then frowned at Jalen. “You do what you have to do, Jalen. Just get back as fast as you can.”

  “Okay, Coach. I’ll hurry. I wouldn’t do it, but I promised.”

  Jalen and Cat walked out toward the road and stood in the shadow of Harvard Stadium until Cat’s mom pulled up in her Range Rover. “You kids ready?” Cat’s mom asked. “Exciting, right? Is something wrong?”

  “Jalen’s got his game face on, that’s all,” Cat said.

  “I’m worried about getting back as fast as I can, Mrs. Hewlett. I want to help my new team beat my old team.”

  “I get that,” Cat’s mom said. “When it gets close to the end, I’ll get the Rover and pull right up in front of the stadium. That way we’ll beat the traffic and get right back here.”

  “Thank you.” Jalen felt a little better, but not much. Coach Allen’s words about him having to make a choice between being a player or a “genius” still rang in his ears.

  Cat’s mom showed them the gate where they’d meet after the game. Then she pulled into a garage right across the street. As they entered Fenway, Cat’s mom stopped and pointed again at the white baseball-shaped sign on the corner that said BOSTON RED SOX. “So you’ll come out of this gate, twenty. When it gets close to the end, I’ll come get the Rover and pull it right out so as soon as you get here we can take off. That should get us out of any traffic.”