District Doubleheader

by Matt Christopher

  From there, his gaze moved to a spot behind their houses. Hidden from view beneath some trees was the hideout he and Carter had discovered years ago. He wondered if his cousin ever visited that spot and when he might see it and Carter again.

  Two days before the All-Star team roster was announced, Liam sat waiting for Carter to sign on to video-chat. He was just about to give up when the alarm began.

  “Finally,” he said when his cousin’s image appeared. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Carter answered.

  Liam tilted his head sideways, puzzled by something he saw on the screen behind Carter. “Yeah, but where’s ‘here’? You’re not in your room. It looks familiar, but—where are you?”

  Carter smothered a laugh. As Liam was about to ask what was so funny, he heard the doorbell chime.

  “Liam, can you get that?” his father called.

  “Can’t you? I’m talking to Carter!”

  “I really need you to see who’s at the door!”

  Liam groaned. “Carter, can you hang on? There’s someone at the front door.”

  At that, Carter grinned. “Yeah, I know. Want to see who it is?”

  Before Liam could reply, the image on his laptop screen whirled around in a blur. When it came to a stop, Liam found himself looking at—

  “That’s the door to my house. How—?”

  Suddenly, Liam understood why the background behind Carter had looked so familiar. He bolted out of his chair, raced down the stairs, and practically tore the front door off its hinges.

  “Dork!” he yelled.

  “Doofus!” Carter yelled back.

  Carter shoved his laptop into his mother’s arms seconds before Liam crushed him in a bear hug. “I can’t believe you’re here!” Liam cried.

  “I can’t believe you’re squeezing the air out of my lungs,” Carter gasped.

  “And I can’t believe you’re both standing in my way,” Carter’s mother said. She pushed by them into the hallway, put the laptop on a table, and shouted, “Amanda! Amanda, where are you?”

  Someone in the cellar screamed. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. The door to the basement flung open and Liam’s mother rushed into the hall. Her jaw dropped when she saw her sister, and then the two women were hugging and screaming together.

  “I can’t believe it!” Liam’s mother shouted over and over.

  Liam and Carter exchanged glances.

  “Women,” Liam said, shaking his head.

  “No kidding,” Carter agreed.

  They disappeared upstairs to Liam’s room. “Okay, so I can’t believe it, either,” Liam confessed, sitting on one of the two twin beds. “How long are you staying?”

  “We’re heading back in five days. That’s when, you know, All-Star practices start. Not that I know whether I made the team or anything,” he added hurriedly. “But my folks thought it’d be smarter to play it safe, just in case.”

  Liam nodded. “You know you’re going to make the team, right? It was thanks to you and that knuckleball that the Hawks were the league champs for the second year in a row.”

  “Not just me,” Carter protested. “Everyone did their part, you know that.” Then he grinned. “But I have to admit, I like ending the season on top again. Don’t you?”

  “Definitely.” Then Liam thought of something. “Hold on, how are you going to find out about All-Stars? You’ll be here!”

  “Coach Harrison said he’d call here one way or the other. What about you?”

  Liam gave a half smile. “Oh, I don’t think I’ll be getting a call from Coach Harrison this year,” he said. Then his smile vanished. “Maybe not from Coach Driscoll, either. Of course, that would be my own fault. I forgot to watch my step when I was climbing the ladder.”

  “What are you, a fortune-cookie saying?”

  “Nah, that’s something Melanie said once. I should have listened to her. Don’t ever tell her I said that.” He flopped backward onto his bed and then lifted his head to peer at Carter. “Why didn’t you talk some sense into me?”

  Carter snorted. “Like I’ve ever been able to do that?”

  “Hmmm, good point. Let’s change the subject.”

  They talked about everything and nothing until their mothers called up to let them know pizza had arrived. Only later, when they were in bed with the lights out, did the subject of the All-Star announcements come up again.

  “You know, it’ll actually be okay if I don’t make the team,” Liam said into the darkness.

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  Liam rolled onto his side toward Carter’s bed. “Think about it. Me? On a team with Phillip DiMaggio? Yikes!”

  There was just enough light in the room for Liam to see the appalled look on his cousin’s face. “I never even thought of that! But you’re sure he’s going to make the team?”

  “Oh, yeah, he’ll make it. It kills me to say so, but he’s really good.”

  Carter was quiet for a minute and then said, “Better than me?”

  “You know you’re first in my book,” Liam replied loyally. “But there’s another reason why it’d be okay if I don’t make the team. I won’t ever have to play against you.”

  Carter laughed. “Like that would ever happen!”

  “It could if I made the team!” Liam insisted.

  “Not a chance. When’s the last time the same two teams reached the U.S. Championship? Or even the World Series tournament? I’ll tell you when—never!”

  “Doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” Liam said stubbornly.

  Both boys were silent for a while, each lost in his own thoughts. Liam wondered if Carter had fallen asleep, but then his cousin said, “It couldn’t happen, could it?”

  Liam rolled away. “Nothing’s impossible.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Carter was woken up by the smell of bacon in his nostrils—and the feel of bacon rubbing against his nose.

  “Wake up, dork,” Liam said in a singsong voice. “Or the bacon fairy will touch you with her magic wand again!”

  Carter shoved Liam’s hand away and sat up. “And to think I missed you.”

  “Come on,” Liam said. “The moms say we can sleep out tonight. Let’s go get the tent set up.”

  “Can’t I eat first?”

  “Sure.” Liam tossed the slice of bacon at him. “Enjoy!”

  Half an hour and one real breakfast later, the boys were in the backyard puzzling over the tent directions. When they had just figured out that pole A fit through slot 4, someone called Liam’s name. Carter looked up to see three boys walking into the yard.

  “No way!” the youngest of the three gasped. “It’s Carter Jones!”

  Carter blinked. “Um, hi?”

  The boy stuck out his hand. “I’m Spencer Park. I watched you pitch in the U.S. Championship last year. You were great! No, better than great, awesome! In fact, I thought for sure Mid-Atlantic was going to win the whole thing. And I bet you would have, too, if your teammate hadn’t struck out. Don’t get me wrong, I was glad that West won, but man, I felt bad for that kid.” He shook his head ruefully.

  Carter stared at Spencer and then looked at Liam. His cousin was trying his best not to laugh. Liam and the Driscolls still hadn’t clued Spencer in about Liam’s big strikeout. And he obviously hadn’t matched Liam’s face to the video!

  “Yeah,” Carter said slowly, “a lot of people felt bad for him. But don’t worry. He’s doing okay now.”

  “You still play ball with him, huh?”

  Carter bit his lip to keep from cracking up. “Not as often as I’d like.” Then he turned to the other boys, both of whom were attempting to control their mirth, too.

  “Hi, I’m Rodney Driscoll,” the tall, dark-haired boy said. “That’s my brother, Sean. Believe it or not, we’re—”

  “Don’t tell me,” Carter interrupted, grinning. “Twins?”

  Now the brothers did laugh. “Guess Liam told you ab
out our favorite gag, huh?”

  Carter glanced at his cousin. “Yeah, and a lot more about you guys, too. Congrats on the home run title, Rodney.”

  “Thanks. Need some help with that?”

  Liam handed him the directions. “All we can get!”

  While the boys worked on the tent, Liam told them how Carter had surprised him yesterday.

  “Too bad you can’t stay longer,” Spencer said. “But it’s more important for you to start practicing with your All-Star team.” He shot Liam a smile. “After all, it can take a while for new teammates to find their groove.”

  Liam laughed and then cupped his hands around his mouth. “Groove? Anybody see a groove around here? Hello, I’m looking for a groove!” Rodney, Sean, and Spencer immediately joined in.

  While they were laughing, Carter busied himself with the tent poles. He felt odd not being in on the joke with Liam. But he shrugged it off. Liam didn’t know the jokes he shared with Rachel or Ash, either.

  Once the tent was finally up, Sean suggested they go to the ballpark for a game of pitch, hit, and run. “Wiffle balls, all right? Because this is just for fun,” he added. “Some of us are done for the season, remember.”

  Carter looked at him in surprise. “You don’t know that. The All-Star announcements don’t come out until tomorrow. You could start playing again next week.”

  Sean laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, man, but I’m not holding out any hope. I mean, I’m a great guy and all, but no chance I’m on the roster.” He turned and punched Rodney in the arm. “Unlike some guys I know, huh, bro?”

  Carter saw Liam stiffen. “Hey, why don’t you guys ride ahead to the field?” he said. “Liam, you go get the gear. I’ll go ask your dad if I can borrow his bike.”

  The Driscolls and Spencer agreed and left. Inside the house, Carter turned to Liam and said, “Okay, first off, I can’t believe Spencer has no clue who you are.”

  “You and me both. Not that I have a problem with him not knowing!”

  “And secondly, Sean can’t know for sure that Rodney’s on the team.”

  Liam looked down. “I know, I know. But still, if he thought I had a chance, why wouldn’t he have said so?” He shook his head. “Maybe that was his way of warning me that I didn’t make it. His dad is the All-Star coach, remember. Maybe he overheard him say something or—”

  “Okay, that’s crazy and you know it,” Carter interjected. “Now come on, let’s go take your mind off baseball for a while”—he grinned—“by playing some baseball for a while.”

  Twenty minutes later Liam and Carter reached the field. Sean, Rodney, and Spencer had run into Jay on their way to the park and invited him to join in. Spencer, Sean, and Rodney went into the field first. Liam offered to shag balls batters missed. Jay handed Carter the bat and waved him to the box.

  Carter got into his stance. He was suddenly aware of everyone watching him. I’m the new kid, he thought. They don’t know what I can do. Well, I’ll show them!

  And at that moment, it dawned on him: That’s what Liam had felt at the beginning of the season. He wanted to drop the bat and tell his cousin he understood. But then Spencer threw the ball, and there was no time to do anything else but swing.

  Whack!

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FIVE

  A bright beam of sunlight shone through an opening in the tent and woke Liam the next morning. He looked around. Carter’s sleeping bag was empty. He thought about rolling over and going back to sleep, but then he remembered what day it was.

  June 15: All-Star Announcement Day.

  He shoved his sleeping bag aside and hurried into the house. Melanie was sitting at the kitchen island eating a bowl of sliced strawberries.

  “Eesh, look what the cat dragged in,” she said when she saw him.

  He gave a tremendous yawn and then sat down. “Where’s Carter?” he asked, stealing a berry from her bowl and popping it into his mouth.

  “On the phone in Dad’s office.”

  Liam leaped up. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  “You didn’t ask!”

  Liam ran down the hall to his father’s office.

  “Okay, yep, yep, no problem,” Carter was saying. “Right. See you in a few days. Bye.” He handed his cell phone to his mother, who spoke a little longer and then hung up.

  “Well?” Liam exploded. “Did you make it?”

  Carter laughed. “That was just Dad. I called him to see how Lucky Boy was doing. He said—”

  Just then, another cell phone rang nearby. Mrs. Jones started. “That can’t be your father. It must be Coach Harrison! I gave him my number. But where did I put that phone?”

  Her cell rang again. Carter jumped up. “Quick! Follow that sound!”

  After a frantic search, they found the phone on the table in the living room. “Hello? Yes, he’s right here. One moment.” Mrs. Jones held out the phone to Carter. “It’s the coach.”

  Carter put the phone to his ear, turned away, and started pacing. “Hello? Yes, sir, California’s been great. Liam’s good, too. No, he hasn’t heard anything yet.”

  Suddenly he stopped moving and was quiet. An eternity seemed to pass before he spoke again.

  “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much! I’ll see you Wednesday, three o’clock sharp.”

  Then he hung up. “I’m an All-Star!” he cried, his face wreathed in a giant smile.

  Liam pumped his fist in the air. “Yes!”

  Carter spent the next hour calling and texting his friends back home. Mrs. Jones contacted her husband with the good news and then went on the computer to find out the upcoming tournament dates. Liam got dressed and ate breakfast. He and Carter rolled up the sleeping bags, cleaned out the tent, and then packed it away so they could play catch out back.

  “Show me that knuckleball,” Liam requested when they were warmed up. When Carter threw it, however, Liam found he could barely follow the ball’s movement. He missed the catch the first time—and three more times until he finally got a glove on the fourth.

  “Whew!” he exclaimed. “Hope I never have to try to hit one of those!”

  After lunch, they played video games and Ping-Pong in the basement. Liam got out his pin collection, and they looked through them together. All the while, Liam kept one ear out, listening for the phone to ring.

  But it didn’t.

  When no one was looking, he picked up the receiver and checked the dial tone. It was working, so he quickly replaced it in case someone was trying to call.

  But no one did.

  Dinner that night was a quiet affair.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Mr. McGrath said as he passed a bowl of salad. “How about a trip to the amusement park tomorrow? They’ve got some great roller coasters and other thrill rides designed to make old people like me scream in terror. What do you say?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Liam’s mother agreed brightly. Her sister nodded.

  “I’ll go if Liam wants to,” Carter said.

  Liam looked at their expectant faces. He didn’t feel like going on a roller coaster. But sitting around the house, he knew, would be even worse.

  “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  After dinner, the McGraths and the Joneses settled down in the living room to watch a movie. It was one Liam had seen before. Midway through, he stood up.

  “I’m going to head up to—”

  He was cut off by a sudden loud knock on the door.

  “Who could that be at this hour?” Mrs. McGrath wondered as she hurried to open it.

  Rodney and Sean burst into the room, followed by their father.

  “Liam! Liam!” the brothers cried. “You’re in!”

  “I’m—what?”

  Dr. Driscoll walked over and held out his hand. “Congratulations, Liam. You’re an All-Star.”

  It took a moment for the news to sink in. Then Liam gave a whoop and started dancing around the house. “I don’t believe it!”

  �
��Believe it!” Carter yelled. He, Sean, and Rodney started dancing, too.

  “But it’s eight o’clock at night,” Liam’s mother protested. “Why didn’t you tell him sooner?”

  “I didn’t know until now,” Dr. Driscoll apologized. “You see, Liam wasn’t on the roster originally.”

  Liam stopped dancing. “I wasn’t?”

  “There are fourteen All-Star slots,” the coach continued. “You were fifteenth in votes. Then one of the boys declined his spot. The committee had to make a choice—go with just thirteen players or move you up. It was a very long discussion. But in the end, we agreed to invite you to join the team.”

  He handed Liam a piece of paper. “Here’s the roster. I’ll be in touch with practice information. Come on, boys, time to head home.”

  “Look under D,” Rodney whispered on his way out the door.

  Liam glanced down and saw Driscoll, Rodney. Above that listing was another familiar name: DiMaggio, Phillip.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

  All right, All-Stars, we have just ten days to get in sync for the District tournament,” Coach Harrison said. “So take a look at one another. If you don’t know someone, go meet him. If you know everybody, well, introduce them to me because I’m still trying to put names with faces!”

  Carter and his new teammates laughed. Then they did as their coach instructed. Carter recognized most of the boys, but he suspected Ash didn’t. To his amazement, however, the catcher greeted each one by name.

  “You’re Freddie Detweiler, right?” he said to a rangy boy with prominent teeth and stick-straight hair. “You played second base for the Falcons.”

  “Luke Armstrong! Great name for a pitcher.” That got a shiny smile from a boy with braces. “I’m Ash. I’ll be your catcher sometimes, I guess.

  “Hang on, two Charlies and you’re both outfielders. Okay, let me see—you’re Charlie Santiago and you’re Charlie Murray. Maybe we should call you Murray to avoid confusion.” Charlie Murray raised his thick eyebrows in alarm. Ash grinned. “Hmm, how about Chuck instead?”