The Vietnamese boy shook his head in wonder. “As simple as that,” he muttered. “You always talk about God like he’s as real as your next-door neighbor. ‘Yippity-doo-dah. He’ll show you what to do.’”
“That’s because he is that close,” Bucky observed. “I guess it’s always been hard for people to understand that God really is real. That’s one of the reasons Jesus came down to earth as a person. To show us how real God actually is.”
Sam nodded, saying nothing.
“Hey, there’s Lisa,” Bucky noted suddenly. “Excuse me, Sam, OK? I gotta go talk to her a sec.”
“And cry on her shoulder about your game?”
Bucky grinned. “I admit it. Listen, see you this weekend.”
He jogged over to the clump of trees where Lisa was standing expectantly. She gave him one of her mischievous looks. “Good afternoon,” she said with teasing formality. Glancing around furtively, she whispered, “Come here, cute man.”
He looked puzzled. “How come?”
She clutched his shirt sleeve and reached up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I just love to kiss ballplayers,” she announced with a grin.
“All of them?” he scowled with an air of offended jealousy.
“Oh, only the really successful ones,” she smirked. “You know, the real ESPN superstars. Bucky Stone, guys like that.”
“Well, Bucky Stone hit into a stupid double play in the stupid seventh inning and left the stupid tying run hanging out to dry,” he retorted with a wry grin.
She wrinkled her nose. “Yuck. Well, I guess I could go find Dan Litton and kiss him for a while.”
“Don’t you dare!” He reached out with his foot and gently stepped on her left sneaker. “There, I won’t let you get away.”
“Oh, all right,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. Abruptly switching topics, she added, “How’s your little sister?”
“She’s fine. I guess, anyway. She seems to have gotten over it.”
“That’s good.” She shook her head, remembering. “That was really something.”
“Yeah.”
The pair began walking over to the bike racks. “How about a homework session tonight?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Can’t. I’m babysitting. Tomorrow, maybe?” Her voice sounded hopeful.
He grinned. “I could go for that. Get the weekend started off right.”
The pretty girl pretended to sag. “Do we have to spend the evening doing homework?”
Bucky laughed. “Well, I doubt if anyone else at Hampton High will be doing homework.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” she conceded. “‘Course, I don’t figure we should do very much homework, Mr. Stone. You’re good at some other things too, as I recall.”
He blushed. “Yes, I remember.” He looked at her directly. “Why don’t you come over to my house instead? Have supper with us?”
“Would your folks mind?”
“Are you serious? They’re both crazy about you.” He laughed. “They like you more than I do.”
She pretended to think for a moment. “Well, I’ve got to fix that somehow.” A pause. “Sure, why not?” Her eyes twinkled. “Do I wear a choir robe, or rosary beads, or what?”
He reached over and gently flicked her on the arm. “You’re a nut.”
She laughed up at him. “See you then.”
Chapter Seven: A Shot at Junior Varsity
All of a sudden the Panthers were hot. Really hot. Six games in a row the frosh squad from Hampton Beach walked off the field winners.
“Can you believe this?” Bucky exulted after a thrilling come-from-behind contest. “Coach told us to start a winning streak, and I guess we did!”
“Yeah, we’re cookin’, all right.” Dan gave his expensive mitt a toss in the air and neatly caught it behind his back. “Right now we can’t do no wrong.” He looked over at Bucky. “You’re doin’ OK yourself, man. How many RBIs today?”
“I do believe it’s three – two in that big first inning and then a sacrifice fly in the sixth.”
“But who’s keeping track, right?” Dan laughed. “Listen, between the two of us, I bet we could carry this team the rest of the way by ourselves.” He lowered his voice. “Except I don’t think we’re going to have to.”
“What do you mean?”
Dan looked around. “Think about it,” he snorted. “I figure Coach is bound to put us on the junior varsity squad next week at the latest. That’ll be in time to qualify us for the playoff round.”
Bucky’s heart pounded. Deep down, he’d been hoping for this very news. “Do you really think we’ve got a chance?”
“Sure,” Dan retorted with a cocksure grin. “Listen, I did some checking. JV squad is only three-and-four so far. And they’re short a couple of good fielders. I heard their coach say so.”
“Boy, that would be something,” Bucky breathed. “Junior varsity.”
“Yeah. Post-season glory, here we come.”
“What do you mean?”
Dan looked at him impatiently. “You know – playoffs. It’s the big end-of-year finals, three huge games in a row. I mean, it’s nothing like these little frosh games with two girls sitting in the stands. These are real games with spectators and everything.”
“So you really think we have a chance to get on the team?”
Dan nodded, a little bit of eagerness showing in spite of himself. “I’ll tell you what, Stone. If you and I have one more good game, I think we’re in.”
The following week Bucky took his seat in the visitor’s dugout with the rest of the squad. Most of the players had a relaxed air about them, but Bucky’s stomach was all tied up in knots. He just had to come through!
“Please, Lord,” he breathed. “Give me a chance to honor you by playing well.” A moment later he forced a wry grin. “I suppose that’s one prayer that for sure was loaded with mixed motives,” he admitted to himself.
Batting third in the order, right ahead of power-hitting Dan Litton, Bucky knew he’d be hitting in the very first inning, so he began to don his batting gloves and look around for his favorite helmet. The first batter made out, but the second hitter smacked a shot right down the first base line for a double. A weak chorus of boos went up from the few fans watching the home game.
As Bucky stepped into the batter’s box, he looked over at the far end of the stands and noticed a familiar face. Hampton Beach’s junior varsity coach was intently watching the action with a small note pad in his hand. Perspiration broke out on Bucky’s forehead as he realized the importance of these at-bats.
The first pitch came whistling through the air and neatly sliced the outside corner of the plate. “Strike one!” decreed the umpire.
Bucky took a deep breath and swung the bat back and forth several times. “Swing at a good one,” he muttered to himself. The second pitch had the telltale spin of a curve ball and began to break right into the strike zone. Timing his swing, Bucky tried to slap the pitch up the middle, but barely grazed it for a foul tip. Oh-and-two count!
Shaking his head in disbelief, he stepped out of the box to collect his thoughts. “Play ball!” the umpire called after a moment’s delay.
The next two pitches were way outside – “waste” pitches, as Coach Walker always called them. The 2-2 pitch was the kind that often fools an inexperienced hitter, but Bucky had a good eye and let it go by for ball three.
Now with a full count and first base open, the pitcher glanced nervously over at his own coach, silently wondering if he should walk the batter. “Not with Litton up next!” the coach hollered, not even bothering to use signals. Bucky grinned in spite of himself. Word had gotten around the frosh league, and no one wanted to pitch to the Panthers’ star slugger with runners on base!
He dug in and prepared to swing at anything close. But the sight of Litton in the on-deck circle must have unnerved the opposing pitcher, because ball four floated in at Bucky’s eye level. With a relieved sigh, he tossed the bat toward the dugo
ut and headed for first base.
Dancing off the bag, he remembered one of Coach Walker’s speeches: “After a walk, the next pitch is sometimes right down the pipe. That pitcher doesn’t want to get behind two batters in a row. If you get a good pitch, nail it!” From the way Dan was swinging the bat back and forth, Bucky knew he was remembering the same speech.
Sure enough. The first pitch split the plate down the middle. And Dan was ready for it. Crack! The ball soared toward the alley in left center. The two fielders raced desperately toward the ball, but it bounced off the fence two feet short of a home run. Bucky scored easily on the long extra-base hit as Dan pulled into second with a stand-up double.
“Yeah!” Bucky yelped, giving his teammates high-fives, turning to motion thumbs-up to the grinning slugger on the second base bag. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the JV coach jotting something down in his book.
“Way to go!” he praised the grinning left fielder a few minutes later as the two players trotted out to the field with a 3-0 lead in the first frame.
“Just missed a homer,” Dan grumbled good-naturedly. “Oh, well, three runs in the bank and old Brayshaw looking on!”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Bucky nodded as he made his way out to center field.
Kennedy High came right back with two runs in their half of the inning, and Bucky returned to the dugout looking sober. “Guess we gotta get some more,” he muttered to the team’s catcher as they settled down on the bench.
After four innings the teams were knotted at four each. Bucky had two more at-bats but wasn’t able to really connect with a good solid hit. In the bottom of the sixth, Kennedy put men on first and third with only one out, then successfully managed a squeeze bunt for a go-ahead run. Grumbling in frustration, the Panthers prepared to hit in the top of the seventh.
“Just one more chance,” Dan observed dourly, as the two boys prepared to hit.
Bucky nodded grimly. “Probably our last at-bat, and with Brayshaw over there takin’ notes.”
The first hitter made an out, but the shortstop managed to hit a “squib” fly ball just out of reach of the diving second baseman. Despite his nervousness, Bucky managed a laugh. “Screaming line drive!” he teasingly called out to the grinning base runner.
Coach Walker sent up a pinch hitter for the tiring pitcher. Base hit! Now there were runners on first and second and still just one out. Bucky walked to the on-deck circle and nervously wagged his favorite bat back and forth, warming up. “Come on,” he half-muttered toward the hitter up at the plate. “Tie it up!” With a two-two count, the pitcher sent a beautiful slider zipping right by the startled batter. “Strike three, you’re out!” announced the umpire.
Tingling all over, Bucky walked up to the plate. In the distance, he saw Lisa’s jacketed figure in the bleachers. Coach Brayshaw was still in his spot, watching the action intently. Forcing himself to concentrate, Bucky eyed the opposing pitcher. “Just make contact,” he said to himself over and over. “Don’t let good pitches go by.”
The first pitch was a little low. Ball one. The next pitch appeared to be in the same location, but the umpire’s arm shot up without hesitation. Strike one!
Bucky looked over at him but said nothing. “Never question ball-strike calls” was Coach’s oft-repeated advice.
“Just barely high enough,” the umpire said softly, reading Bucky’s thoughts.
“OK.” Without another word, Bucky dug in for the next pitch. Just a hit, he silently breathed a prayer.
“Come on, baby, blow ‘im away,” the catcher hollered encouragingly to his partner on the mound.
The next pitch was down the middle of the plate, and higher in the strike zone than the pitcher had intended. In a split second, a thought flickered through Bucky’s mind. That’s a batting practice pitch! Swinging hard, he connected firmly with the ball and began sprinting hard toward first.
About two-thirds of the way there, he looked toward the outfield. The left fielder had his back turned, and was gazing over the fence with a slump in his posture.
“Did it go out?” Bucky gasped to the first base coach.
“Into the next county!” the coach yelled with a wide grin. “Attaboy, Stone!”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he rounded the bags. A three-run homer! Crossing home plate, he savored a moment of high fives with his teammates before heading to the dugout. He was tempted to peek at the junior varsity coach, but didn’t. If that doesn’t do it, nothing will, he thought happily.
Litton was waiting in the on-deck circle. “Great hit, dude!” he complimented. “Except you didn’t leave any RBIs out there for me!”
“Just hit one over the fence and get your own RBI!” Bucky grinned, taking his seat in the dugout. Moments later, he was on his feet whooping as Dan sent the first ball rocketing deep into center field. “Back to back!” Bucky yelled over and over, as Litton paraded his way around the bases. He felt a twinge of sympathy for Kennedy High’s pitcher.
“Eight to five lead,” Coach grinned as the boys headed out to the field for the bottom of the seventh. “Now you clunks hang onto this one!”
Twenty minutes later, a rowdy squad pushed their way into the visitors’ locker room. “Seven in a row,” sang out the catcher. “Unstoppable, babies!”
Feeling pleasantly tired, Bucky sank down on the hard wooden bench and pulled off his baseball cleats. “Well, that was pretty good timing, Litton!”
“Yeah.” The team’s star player sat back and closed his eyes. “I don’t know what Brayshaw paid to get in today, but I guess he got his money’s worth.”
“I wonder if . . .”
Before Bucky could complete the thought, Mr. Walker interrupted the exchange. “Stone? Litton? Can I talk to you boys for a minute?”
“Uh oh!” the shortstop teased. “You guys are going to be benched for your lousy hitting. Only one homer each today.”
“Ri-i-i-i-ight,” Dan smirked, as the two boys made their way to the little cubicle where both Coach Walker and Coach Brayshaw were waiting with big smiles.
The varsity coach extended a welcoming hand. “Well, I heard about it and now I’ve seen it,” he said warmly. “You two guys are doing OK.”
“We had a good day today.” Bucky said modestly.
Brayshaw laughed. “Well, I’ve paid Coach Walker a small bribe, and he’s agreed to let the two of you try to have a few good days for my JV team.”
Even though it was expected news, Bucky couldn’t stifle a happy gasp. “Do you mean it?”
The young coach chuckled expansively. “Listen, kid, that three-run homer of yours has given me all sorts of sincerity. You bet I mean it.” He paused. “And you I plan to hang onto,” he said, turning to Dan. “That was some good hitting today.”
For once, cocksure Dan was at a loss for words. “I – er – sure!” he managed at last, grinning self-consciously at Bucky.
Coach Walker stood up and shook hands with each of the boys. “We hate to lose you two right during a hot streak like this, but that’s what frosh ball is all about. Getting good players like you ready to play in the ‘big time’ for Hampton Beach.” He turned to Mr. Brayshaw. “Ted, they’re all yours.”
The players’ new coach handed both athletes a copy of the junior varsity schedule. “We’ve got just three weeks before the playoff round begins,” he told them, “and I’ll want you in the lineup for all six of those games. This gets you qualified just in time for the tournament games.”
“All right!” Dan breathed. “The World Series!”
“That’s if we do some winning,” Brayshaw pointed out. “And find a way to win those first two postseason games. Then we get to the ‘World Series.’”
Bucky felt a delicious tingle. “Awesome.” Smiling broadly, he joined Dan, who was already heading back to the locker room.
As the two ballplayers got ready to board the team bus a few minutes later, Dan lowered his voice. “I guess I should get around to this,” he said at last. “I . . .�
�� He looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Well, thanks.”
Bucky looked at him questioningly. “For what?”
“Oh, just ‘cause you’re a great guy to hit after. Always gettin’ on base to give me RBI chances.” He grinned and relaxed a little bit. “Like in the first inning today, drawing that tough walk so I could hit you in with a double while Brayshaw was watching.”
Bucky laughed happily, then sobered, speaking carefully. “I’ll tell you something. I prayed today that God would help us both to do well.” He pondered for a moment. “Not really so we’d win, even though I’m glad we did, but just so that we might get this chance to play in junior varsity and . . .”
“What?” Dan prompted.
Bucky’s face reddened. “I want to play my best for the Lord,” he said at last. “And I figure the JV team’s the best place to do that.”
Dan studied Bucky. “What is it with you? You and God all the time. You’re too much, man. I mean, you got the sock to back it up, but gee whiz.”
Bucky didn’t hesitate. “I pray and he answers.” He looked into the other boy’s eyes. “He sure did today.”
When Dan didn’t say anything, Bucky lowered his gaze. Finally Dan spoke, in a voice so low Bucky barely heard him. “Well, just keep prayin’ for both of us,” he said quietly. “Not just for homers, either.”
Chapter Eight: Miracle Catch
Bucky laid five crumpled dollar bills, on the counter and handed a soft yogurt cone to Lisa. “Here you go, babe,” he announced. “My treat.”
She took a big lick of her frozen dessert. “I should be treating you,” she protested. “To celebrate your getting on the JV team.”
He grinned as he scooped up his change. “I still can’t believe it.” The couple strolled through the crowded shopping center, savoring the tart flavor of the yogurt.
“Boy, that was sure a great game,” Lisa bubbled. “And that home run! I was so excited!” She laughed. “Did you hear me yelling?”
“Hard to miss. You were Hampton Beach’s only fan!” He shook his head. “To tell the truth, I’m afraid I didn’t hear you or anybody else. I was pretty jazzed.”
Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10) Page 15
