Center Field

by Robert Lipsyte

  It was dreamlike yet creepy. He thought he should feel thrilled, at least pumped, but he didn’t feel much of anything. He pushed himself back into the now.

  Dave hustled them into an elevator that opened onto a corridor high over home plate and into a wood-paneled room whose walls were filled with pictures of great old-time Yankees, Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Reggie Jackson. Mike could tell Zack didn’t really know who most of them were.

  They were served cafeteria-style, overcooked burgers and coleslaw, and sat down at a table. Dave brought a few reporters over, rumpled mumbly guys and fast-talking young women who asked a few questions about where Mike went to school.

  One of them said, “What do you think of all this?”

  “’S great,” said Mike, his mouth full.

  Dave was tapping into his handheld. “Highlights so far?”

  Zack said, “Billy thinking I was Mike.”

  “Let’s delete that,” said Dave. “Other highlights?”

  “What’s this for?” said Zack.

  “The Billyblog.”

  “You write that?” said Mike.

  “A couple of us, yeah, after we talk it over with Billy.”

  Zack looked at Mike. “You thought Billy Budd wrote it?”

  “Nearly forgot,” said Dave, reaching into a black plastic garbage bag. He pulled out caps and T-shirts and a Yankee jersey with Budd across the back. They were all autographed by Billy. “For you guys.”

  They watched the game from a cramped corner of a radio broadcast booth. At least Mike did. Dave was writing on his computer and Zack was texting. Mike wondered if Kat was on the other end. He thought about sending something to Mom and Dad. They’d be busy at the store, but they had been excited about him going to the Stadium. Now they were excited because Scotty was coming home for a day on his way to Europe to play in a chamber music competition. Tiffany might be able to come home to see him.

  From high up behind home plate, the entire field was spread out in front of him. He concentrated on watching Billy, the way he shifted position for different hitters and called out to the other outfielders. Billy was never quite still in the field, pounding his glove, transferring his weight from foot to foot, checking the flags in the outfield to see which way the wind was blowing. He was totally in the game, every moment.

  In the seventh inning, Billy went all out for a long fly. He caught it at the warning track, but limped back to the dugout.

  “That quadriceps again,” said Dave.

  When Billy didn’t go into the field for the eighth, Dave made a call on his cell. “Billy’s going to the hospital now, check out that quad. Afraid we won’t get to talk to him.”

  After the game they followed Dave back down to the corridor past the clubhouse. Mike spotted Billy first, his arm across the shoulders of a pretty blonde who looked like the model on the Buddsite. Dave looked uncomfortable. Had he been caught in a lie, Mike wondered, or had he gotten the wrong information? Billy pointed at Mike and motioned him over.

  “The kid who won my contest,” said Billy.

  The blonde smiled. “Congratulations.” She was shaking Mike’s hand when her eyes flicked over Mike’s shoulder. “Billy, is that the girl we met from American Idol?” She dropped Mike’s hand to wave.

  Dave walked them outside. The limo was waiting.

  “I might call you later or email,” said Dave. “For more of your reactions.”

  “Just make it up,” said Mike. “Like usual.”

  Zack laughed. Well, that’s something, Mike thought.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  He felt sad. He watched the late afternoon sun sparkle on the Hudson River as the limo cruised up the parkway. Zack was quiet for most of the ride, his face close to the camera. He was viewing the video he had shot.

  After a while Zack said, “Seems like a nice enough guy.”

  “What?”

  “Billy Budd.”

  “He was okay.”

  Zack put the camera in his lap. “What’d you expect?”

  Mike thought about that. His mind felt numb. “I don’t know.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  Mike looked at Zack. He had such a long, serious face. “Kind of.”

  “He was your hero, right?”

  Mike nodded. It seemed childish now.

  “I met my hero once. Ralph Nader.”

  Mike knew the name from Social Issues. “He ran for president, right? Pissed people off because he took votes away from their guy.”

  “Yeah. But before that he was really out there, going up against big business, starting grassroots consumer organizations. The bad guys went after him, but he was tough. Never gave up.”

  “You met him?”

  “Yeah. He was okay. Brushed off my question. I guess it wasn’t as good as I thought. He was busy.”

  “You were disappointed?” said Mike.

  “Yeah. My mom said I should concentrate on remembering why I admired him. The guy had a real impact on America.”

  Mike felt a little flush of affection for Zack. Guy was trying to make him feel better. And he was.

  And then he spoiled it.

  “Of course, Billy Budd’s just a jock.”

  “Dumb jock, you mean?”

  Zack looked sorry. Maybe he just can’t help himself. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Sure you did,” said Mike. “You’ve said it before.”

  Zack chewed on his lower lip as if he were chewing on a thought. “I was having a real bad day. When you pushed me?”

  “I thought I slugged you. Gave you headaches and post-traumatic stress.”

  “That was our lawyers. When the school was trying to expel us.”

  “For hacking into school files?”

  “I told you we never did it.”

  “Just talked about it,” said Mike. Like a puke. And messed up Kat. Give him a break. “So what was your bad day? When I…pushed you.”

  “We had just found out Mr. Cody had canceled funding for the Cyber Club after the school board okayed it.”

  “How could he do that?”

  “At Ridgedale he can do whatever he wants.”

  “That’s what Andy says.”

  “Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.”

  Mike remembered that Kat had said that. Mike laughed. There was something honest and solid about Zack. He might be a puke with no social skills, but he didn’t pretend to be anything else. Honest in his way. Took the blame for shooting off his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he had talked with a guy when it wasn’t about sports or girls. “I was having a bad day, too. I just found out a new kid was set to play center field.”

  “Oscar Ramirez.”

  “You know him?”

  “He was at the district office when we were there. I think they’re going to deport him.”

  “Is he illegal?”

  “Cody said so. Said Oscar and his dad had lied to him about their status and given him a phony birth certificate. He was angry at them for pretending they were living in the school district. Told us that anyone who crosses him can expect no mercy.”

  “Did he say how he found out Oscar lied to him?”

  “He said he was suspicious and checked him out.”

  They rode in silence for a while. Mike’s head hurt from trying to follow Cody’s lies. Finally he said, “So how come you never hacked in?”

  “Now I’m sorry I didn’t. Kat needed to know what was in her school record. Cody’s such a liar, he could have been bluffing. Maybe there wasn’t anything there.”

  “So who was the mole?”

  “Nick,” said Zack. “He showed up at the district office and you could tell which side he was on. And he knew Kat was shooting video while I was talking. She felt so bad. That’s why she split.”

  Mike felt a lead weight in his stomach. Poor Kat. That bald-headed asshole really knows how to twist people up. He wanted to hold her, tell her it was all right.


  “Ranger psych,” said Mike.

  “What’s Ranger psych?”

  “Psychological warfare. What Cody learned in the Army Rangers.”

  “He was in the Navy,” said Zack. “The SEALS.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “He told us at one of the meetings. Show how tough he was. One of our lawyers had been in the Rangers, and when Cody heard that he said he was in the SEALS.”

  “That makes no sense. He changed the team names to Rangers, he talked about the Rangers all the time.”

  “A lot of different stories going around,” said Zack. “Like your dad gave Oscar’s father a job so Cody wouldn’t suspend you.”

  Mike thought about it. “That could be true. He came back that day and said he’d worked out some kind of deal.”

  “Did your dad know they were illegal?”

  “He got mad when I asked him. Said they worked hard and showed up.”

  “He got that right.”

  The numbness in his mind was gone, but he had a headache. Too much information. “So what are you going to do now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All your projects. The senior center. On-High dot org.”

  Zack shrugged. “Everything’s on pause. We’re all on probation. We have to report to Cody once a week. Tell him what we’ve been doing.”

  “You can tell him about Billy Budd. What a dumb jock he is.”

  That got a smile out of Zack. “Yeah, right. He’s gonna be on you for taking me.”

  “We can take care of ourselves.” He tried to mock the high whiny voice Zack had used in the cafeteria.

  “I meant that,” said Zack. “Where did you come off saying you were supposed to be our role models, show us how to act?”

  “You didn’t like that?”

  “Would you?”

  “When are pukes role models?”

  “Pukes?”

  “Sorry. It’s a word we…”

  “Like dumb jocks?” said Zack.

  Mike laughed. “I’m not as dumb as I look.”

  “How could you be as dumb as you look?” said Zack.

  Mike threw a long, soft jab slow enough that even Zack could duck it.

  “I think you just made your first joke,” said Mike.

  They both laughed the rest of the way home. The limo dropped Zack off first. Mike sensed that Zack was also trying to come up with something more to say, but they just nodded good-bye.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Coach Cody ambushed him. He strode out of his office as Mike walked into school Friday morning. He must have been watching the front door. Mike tensed.

  But Coach was smiling. “Mighty Mak! Got a minute?”

  Could he say no? He followed Cody back into his office. Muscles rippled under his tight white shirt. His head was freshly shaved. Smelled of cologne.

  Coach gestured Mike to a chair and perched on a corner of his desk. The friendly position. “Talk to me about Billy Budd. What’s he like?”

  “He was nice. Was he a nice kid in Little League?”

  Coach waved the question away as if he were sorry he had ever mentioned it. “Zack enjoy himself?” The Coach’s smile seemed frozen.

  “I guess so.” He felt a need to fill the silence. “He’d never been to a ball game before.” He was sorry he said that. Didn’t need to. Was Cody’s silence part of Ranger psych? SEAL psych?

  “How come you took Zack?”

  “My dad wanted me to,” said Mike. Lying exhilarated him. He was in the zone. Maybe I can play this game. Cody thinks I’m a dumb jock. “He’s still afraid they’ll sue us for hitting him.”

  Coach’s eyes narrowed. Was he buying this? Did it matter? Am I keeping him off balance? “That makes sense.” He slid off the desk and stuck out his hand. Mike stood up and shook it. “I like the way you’re handling this, Mike. I’ve always had the feeling you were a leader. See you at the game.”

  His mind was a sandstorm all morning. What am I doing? What’s my plan? I can just cool it now, play center field, stay out of trouble. Oscar’s gone, Kat’s gone, everything’s back to normal, where it was five weeks ago before I shoved Zack. But I’m different.

  Dr. Ching came up with a new problem. A pilot is performing loop-de-loops when his plane abruptly disintegrates. What happens to the pilot? Does he plummet straight down or spin off into space or continue the loop-de-loops? I am the pilot, he thought. Everything is coming apart. Will I fall, spin off, or continue in the same old patterns? Do I have a choice?

  In math at least there will be an answer.

  In Social Issues Andy seemed to have lost some of his steam without Kat. I know how he feels.

  And then lunch.

  Lori, Tori, and Ryan were careful not to look at him as he approached their table. Andy was across the room striking out with a girl at the Young Republicans table. Got to talk to Andy about his approach. Like I’m such a role model.

  He briefly considered sitting down at the geek table. Zack looked up and nodded but was too cool to call out or wave. Mike was grateful for that.

  Not a good time to appear too friendly with Zack, he thought. Bite the bullet.

  He sat down next to Lori. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

  “How could you?” she said.

  “Because he’s a…” said Tori. She couldn’t or wouldn’t find the word.

  It took him a moment to figure out what they were talking about. By that time Tori had her arm around Lori and was pulling her out of her chair and away from the table. Mike looked at Ryan, who was studying his cheeseburger as if it were a lab specimen. “Thanks. Brah.”

  Ryan shrugged. “They were bound to find out, hoss.”

  “From you?”

  “Tori knew something was going on. She asked me point-blank. Can’t lie to her.”

  “Like you can’t back me up if she tells you not to.”

  Ryan’s face hardened. He’d never seen him angry before. “You screwed things up, man. You forgot who your friends were. We had a good thing going.”

  “You had a good thing going. Because you’re just a dumb jock.”

  Mike kicked his chair back as he stood up and stomped out of the cafeteria. He kept going out to the parking lot.

  It was the first time he’d ever walked out in the middle of a school day without a pass. It was an outlaw feeling that scared and excited him. The same way being with Kat scared and excited him. He thought about her as he drove to the county park and walked alongside a slow shallow river. He followed the river path toward hills that looked like steps up to the early afternoon sun. He remembered running the hill trails with Kat and then making love on the soft earth of the top. Slow and gentle at first and then rougher. He felt freer than he did with Lori, not afraid of hurting her. She wasn’t as heavy as he was but almost as long and very strong.

  But in some ways she wasn’t strong at all. And now she’s gone.

  So what are you going to do now, Mighty Mak? Send another question to the Buddsite? What did you expect from Billy? Jesus in a Yankees cap? Coach let you down. Ryan let you down. Dad let you down.

  You are really out there, man, all by yourself, racing the ball to the wall, and this time the ball is your life and if you miss it, if it goes over your head, if you turn the wrong way when you hit the fence…

  Think positive. You’ll catch it, make the throw home. He looked at his watch. Time to go back and make the game. Cody might know you ditched, but he won’t do anything. He wants to win.

  He felt loose and strong, in a sweet, mindless zone where nothing existed except the ball coming at him. Coming TO him. He could make out the seams, read the lettering, track the spin, see the moment his bat made contact, crushing the roundness. He blasted the rock. He was on fire.

  He blasted the second pitch in the bottom of the first and ended up on third. DeVon singled him home with the first run. Craig patted his butt as he crossed the plate. Win, and all is forgiven. His homer in the fourth cleared Hector and
Todd off the bases.

  Ridgedale was leading 4–0 in the seventh when he saved Craig’s shutout with a diving catch of a sinking liner over short. That got him a hug from Craig.

  Slaps and shouts in the locker room. Eric Nola said, “Good job, Mak, what got into you?”

  “You mean who’d he get into,” said Ryan.

  Everybody laughed. They knew. He swallowed the anger down. Stay cool. BillyBuddBillyBuddBillyBudd. Why am I still saying that?

  He nodded and high-fived his way through the locker room. Coach Cody gave him a thumbs-up and a wink. TigerbitchTigerbitchTigerbitch.

  He almost didn’t notice Andy cleaning out his locker.

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m off the team.” Andy looked sad. He did care after all.

  “Why?”

  “Cody doesn’t think I’m a positive influence.” His face was so pale the freckles were reddish-brown polka dots.

  “Backing me up in the cafeteria?”

  Andy shrugged.

  Mike lowered his voice. “Let’s bring him down.”

  Andy shook his head. “Can’t. He won.”

  “Only if we let him.”

  “Let it go.”

  “You want him to retain his totalitarian control of the school? Of our lives?”

  Andy turned on him, his face flushing. “Don’t mock me, don’t…”

  “I’m not, man. You were right. He lied about a lot of stuff. I can’t just stand there anymore while he lies and lies, about Kat and Oscar, even me…”

  “Probably lied on his résumé to get this job,” said Andy.

  Mike lost his breath. “You think so?”

  “Be like him, wouldn’t it?”

  “What if we could prove that?”

  Andy shrugged again. “What if we could?”

  “If the school board knew that…”

  “It’s over, Mike. He can fuck us up.” He zipped his bag and walked out.

  Mike followed him. “You’ve got the balls, you…”