That afternoon after school Bucky and Dan drove together to Kennedy High School for their second varsity contest. They couldn’t help but smile to themselves as they saw some of the opposing athletes. Kennedy, a smaller charter school, had a disorganized crew, including a shortstop who appeared to be all of fourteen years old.
Still, it was a tightly played contest, with the Kennedy hurler fooling even Dan on close pitches. Twice in a row Hampton High’s leading slugger went down on strikes.
“Little weasel,” he muttered to Bucky as the two trotted out to the field for the bottom of the sixth, holding onto a slim one - run lead.
“Hang in there,” Bucky laughed. “You got one more chance for revenge.”
In the top of the seventh and final frame the first two Panthers reached base before Bucky came to bat. Watching the ball carefully, he let a close 3-2 pitch go by for ball four. Bases loaded!
“Come on, Stone, hit those close ones,” Coach Walker chided as the junior trotted down to first base. “We aren’t paying you and Litton to walk.” Bucky noted a tone of teasing in his voice.
“I just wanted to let Dan have his chance,” Bucky answered. Moments later he leaped in the air as the tiny white sphere whistled in a mammoth arc toward center field. “Grand slam!” he hollered in triumph as the four hitters circled the bases. He stood at home plate to welcome the grinning Litton. “Not a bad swat, boy!”
“Thanks!” Dan looked up at the sky as if to acknowledge heaven’s abundant blessings. “I guess I better put a twenty in the plate this weekend.”
“Litton and Stone to the rescue. Mostly Litton!” Bucky couldn’t help grinning as he gave Dan a vintage Oakland forearm bash. Bucky drove home after the contest savoring a warm mixture of triumph and anticipation over the upcoming trip to Seattle and one Washington State comely junior named Lisa Nichols.
Chapter Five: Surprise Companions
Thursday morning Bucky headed for school with a duffel bag filled with clothes and $150 in his wallet. Despite her earlier reservations, Mom managed to give him a cheerful send-off for the Seattle trip.
“You behave yourself, young man,” she teased as she tucked a stash of Costco goodies into his already over - stuffed bag.
“I will,” he managed with a mouthful of syrupy waffles.
It was a fantastic mid-April morning, promising a quick and easy trip north. During a classroom break Dan gave him a Panthers - two - and - oh high five in the hallway. “Pretty good shot yesterday,” Bucky told him again. “Grand slammeroo!”
“Yeah.” Dan brightened. “Thanks!” He gave his friend a comradely pop on the shoulder. “You guys heading out right after lunch?”
“Actually, right before, I think.” Bucky slammed his locker door shut with a clang. “Gives us an extra hour on the road.”
“Hey, listen, have a good time.”
“Man, you should have come along.”
“Naaah.” Dan shook his head. “I’m behind in about three subjects. Plus I got work all day tomorrow with there bein’ no school.”
“Bummer.”
“I’ll watch for you on TV though,” Dan interjected. “Three straight wins, promise?”
“Yeah.”
“OK, then. Tell Lisa hi for me.”
“Sure. And you be sure to look for Miss Cochran at church this weekend.”
The stocky ballplayer nodded. “Oh, that’s right. I’ll keep an eye out for her.”
Right at noon Bucky headed out to the parking lot. Digging his bag out of the Toyota’s little trunk, he carefully locked all the doors and looked around for the big maroon van.
“Hey! Stone! Over here.” With a harsh blast of his horn, Jonathan rolled to a stop next to the tall junior. “Hop in.” He reached over awkwardly to release the sliding passenger door.
Bucky tossed his bag onto the already crowded van floor and climbed in, looking up to see who the other passengers were. What in the . . .
“Do you know Jill?” Jonathan spoke in a half-shout over the din of the van’s huge stereo system. He nodded toward a strange girl with medium - length black hair. “I believe you already know Miss Tracy Givenchy.”
Bucky was at a loss for words. The redhead snickered at the expression on his face. “Come on in, Mr. Stone. We won’t bite.”
The tall boy gulped. “I . . . I guess I didn’t know who you were bringing along,” he managed, looking up to the front seat where Jonathan was already maneuvering out of the high school parking lot.
“Any objections?” Tracy scooted over in the passenger bench seat to make room for him.
“Well, I guess not.” His mind raced, trying to think of something clever to say. “You’re substantially prettier than who I imagined Jonathan might come up with.”
Her face lit up. “Why, Mr. Stone. So gallant!” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “You really think I’m cuter than that guy Litton you hang around with?”
Bucky gulped. “Well, I’ve always been partial to . . .”
A grumpy oath from the front seat interrupted the conversation. “Missed it!” The van lurched to a stop at a yellow light that had just turned red. “I hate when I decide to zoom through, and the guy in front of me makes up his mind to stop instead.” Rolling down his window, he stuck his head out. “Fathead!”
Jill, in the front seat next to Jonathan, reached out and turned down the van’s bulky stereo. “Ease up,” she complained. “We got all day.”
Bucky felt his heartbeat racing. The discovery of two girls in the van put a whole new face on the Seattle expedition. Two guys and two girls – and a four - day road trip. What would Mom and Dad have said if they’d known? A glance at Jonathan’s owlish face in the mirror gave him a clue that his friend had held back on purpose.
He turned to Tracy. “When . . . when did you decide to come along?”
She shrugged. “Jonathan invited me the other day, so I said sure.”
“Do you like baseball?”
“I guess.” She popped a bubble with her gum. “I did a report in eighth grade about baseball statistics and stuff like that. So, yeah, I watch once in a while when I’ve got time.”
The on-ramp to I-5 came up on the right and Jonathan revved the big V-8 engine to squeal past a black sports car onto the freeway. Despite his still startled mental state, Bucky laughed. “There ain’t no rush,” he said, raising his voice so the driver could hear him.
“Did you have your lunch yet?” Tracy asked.
“Huh uh. How about you?”
“Nope. Me neither. Jonathan dragged me out of history right at noon. What have you got?”
“Oh, my mom packed me some stuff.” He pulled out his duffel bag and began to inspect its contents. “I guess I’ll get by.”
Tracy reached into her purse and pulled out a baggie with a small sandwich in it. “Sick! Salami again.” She took a bite of it and made a face. “That’s all we had in the fridge this morning.”
Bucky fished through his own bag and pulled a sandwich free. For a moment he hesitated. In the front seat Jonathan and Jill were munching out of a big bag of green onion and sour cream - flavored potato chips.
“‘Scuse me,” he murmured to Tracy. Bowing his head, he said a short silent prayer before taking a bite.
The redhead gave him a quizzical look. “What, you pray before lunch every day?”
He couldn’t tell if her voice had any trace of derision in it or not. “Yeah,” he nodded, trying to sound casual. “Just one of my many delightful eccentricities.”
“Hmmmm.” She shrugged and took another bite. “That’s good, I guess.” She looked down at her own sandwich. “How’s that go? ‘God is great, God is good, uh . . . let us eat up all his food.’ Is that right?”
Swallowing, he managed to clear his throat. “How about you? I mean, church and stuff like that?”
Tracy shook her head, her short red curls jiggling. “My mom likes to get us to go at Easter and stuff like that. I guess she goes to mass maybe once a month.”
“She’s Catholic?”
A shrug. “Well, yeah, I guess I am too. Kind of.” She popped the lid of a Pepsi can and took a long swallow, then held out the container. “Want some?”
“No thanks.”
They chatted as the miles of northern California freeway rolled past. Bucky finished off his lunch and even managed to share a piece of carrot cake with her. “Not bad,” she grinned, wiping away a stray crumb.
He took advantage of a break in the music din as Jonathan spun the dial of his iPod and picked another hard-rock album. “So how come you’re so smart?” he asked in a mock - complaining voice. “Makes it tough for Jonathan and me to keep up.”
Her lips formed a tiny pout. “Poor boys. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“Come on,” he remonstrated. “You’re getting all those A’s on purpose.”
She nodded. “It’s just always been so easy,” she admitted. “I mean, I got a B once in sixth grade. That was it.”
Bucky whistled. “One B? In your life?”
“Yeah.”
He had to laugh. “I never heard of anybody getting only one B their whole life. Wow!”
She reached out and daintily kicked at his shin. “Well, you’re doing OK. Decent grades, basketball superstar. Plus baseball hero at Hampton High, from what I’ve been hearing lately.”
He felt a bit of scarlet creep into his cheeks. “I try.”
“Plus you aren’t the most ugly guy in school,” she added, her voice a little bit softer. Suddenly she seemed less cocksure.
“Now I’m blushing,” he grinned.
“Well, let’s see,” Tracy mused. “You’re six foot four, and I’m four eleven on a real good day. Yep, I see real possibilities there, Mr. Stone.” Again she batted her eyelids at him.
Bucky felt a shiver go up his spine. In the front seat Jonathan and Jill were engrossed in a meaningless argument about the age of some rock group’s lead singer. A slow, bluesy love song began to play as he turned his attention back to Tracy, who was eyeing him, curiosity written all over her face.
Suddenly a kind of panic gripped his heart. Lisa! The presence of the little redhead had temporarily caused him to forget that another young woman was eagerly waiting for him at the other end of his excursion. Tracy cocked her head to one side. “What’s the matter? All of a sudden you looked like you choked on a Twinkie.”
“No . . . nothing,” he stammered. “I just was thinking of something I forgot.”
She reached out and nudged him again. “Well, don’t worry, sweetie. If you forgot any of your homework, I’ll personally help you with it when we get back home. Deal?”
Again Bucky felt his face flush. How could he keep a lid on things during the long ride to Seattle? And how could he get away now to be with Lisa? Was Tracy really interested in him . . . or was he imagining it?
The van tires squealed as Jonathan swerved to cut between two cars. The maroon vehicle was easily outdistancing every other car on the road. Bucky strained to peer at the speedometer that looked like it was registering nearly eighty miles an hour.
“Goin’ too fast for you?” Tracy, sitting closer now, murmured. She covered her mouth as a yawn threatened to escape. “Boy, this warm weather is making me sleepy. You don’t mind if I take a nap?”
“No.” Bucky still didn’t trust his voice.
“Turn down the music, Jonathan!” Tracy pulled her legs up onto the seat and leaned over until her head was resting lightly on Bucky’s shoulder. “Wake me up when it’s suppertime, sweetie.”
“I, uh, sure.” Bucky’s heart sank. This was major trouble!
Chapter Six: Pit Stop
The mid - afternoon glare through the left windows hit Bucky in the face as the maroon van hurtled at high speed up I-5. Tracy, dozing lightly, shifted around in the passenger seat to shield her eyes. A stray lock of her short red hair threatened to tickle his nose, and she murmured a sleepy apology as she brushed it away.
Casting a glance at the couple’s reflection in the driver’s rearview mirror, Jonathan’s dancing eyes seemed to betray his amusement. He raised an eyebrow at Bucky’s helpless expression and flashed a big grin as he reached over and hit a different track on the player. A slow romantic hit began to quietly throb through the rear speakers.
“Mmmmmm. My favorite.” Tracy stirred for a moment and slid a bit closer to Bucky. Without seeming to mean to, her left hand edged over until it rested next to his arm.
Bucky gazed resolutely out of the right - hand windows, trying to avoid the harsh rays of the sun. They were well north of the Sacramento area now and the smooth bands of freeway stretched ahead of them with just a few other cars dotting the expanse of road. Jonathan, seemingly intent on setting a Hampton High speed record to Seattle, was passing everybody in sight.
“If you get a ticket you’re on your own,” Bucky said quietly, hoping not to wake Tracy.
“Aaaah, no way. They don’t patrol around here much,” the stocky driver retorted. “Anyway, I got Jill doin’ lookout for me.”
The other girl popped open a can of soda and took a tiny sip. “Don’t count on it,” she laughed. “With you doing eighty-five, by the time I can spot a car we’re already by ‘em.” She nudged Jonathan lightly. “Maybe you ought to slow down a little bit at least. This thing probably doesn’t get that great gas mileage even rolling downhill with the engine off.”
Despite the redhead’s tiny size, Bucky could feel his left arm beginning to go numb. Squirming gingerly, he tried to shift positions without awakening her.
In the front passenger seat Jill swiveled around to face them. “I heard you and Litton are goin’ great guns on varsity. Kinda cool for you guys being just juniors still.”
He managed a grin. “Yeah, we been lucky so far. Team’s two and oh.”
She tugged at her seatbelt. “Did I hear somebody sayin’ that you guys are both, like, real Jesus freaks?” The remark came out awkwardly, and she managed an embarrassed grin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. But, you know . . .”
Bucky nodded easily. “I guess that’d be us.” He peeked down at the top of her head, but the redhead wasn’t stirring. “I mean, I was a Christian when I came here, and Dan got into it about a year ago. So it’s been kind of cool.”
The dark-haired girl gave a thoughtful little nod. “Is it a pretty big deal to you guys?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Kind of the main thing.” He paused. “I figure it’s either totally important, or it’s pure fiction and not important at all. So for my money, I think God’s real, and Jesus, and the whole nine yards. So . . . I do it full tilt.”
Jill looked over at Jonathan, but he was intent on passing two huge semis blocking the left lanes. Taking another swallow of her drink, she wiped her lips. “I guess most of the kids at school just never get into stuff like that,” she observed. “I don’t know why.”
“How about you?”
A little shrug. “Me neither, I guess. I mean, with school and volleyball and, you know, things like this, I never . . .”
“Do your folks ever, like, go to church?”
She shook her head. “I live with my grandmother. My folks split up with I was in third grade. Then my mom ended up on probation for tax fraud a long time ago, so that’s where I wound up.” She gave another of her little shrugs.
“Man, that’s too bad.” Bucky thought of the stability of his own comfortable home life. Even living with parents with different spiritual perspectives, he still enjoyed the privileges of a complete family.
A sudden blast of rock music seemed to knock the whole van into the next lane. Tracy jerked awake with a stunned little yelp.
“What’s the big idea?” Despite the jarring interruption Bucky began to laugh. “What’s wrong with you, Shultz?”
“Hey, I like this song.” Beating on the steering wheel in time to the heavy beat, he began to sing along in a horrible baritone.
“Help!” Tracy held her hands over her ears. “Now I hope the cop
s do pull us over. Anybody sings like that oughta be arrested.”
The radio tune came to the chorus, and Jonathan cranked up his own singing a notch, bouncing his ample frame back and forth in the protesting bucket seat. Jill, laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes, reached down for an empty potato chip bag that she wadded up and threw at the driver. He swerved slightly, then fumbled for the bag and tossed it back.
Mercifully, the song finally ended and an insistent advertisement for a furniture warehouse came on. Sighing heavily, Jonathan reached out and switched the stereo off. “OK, I’ll give you critical people a break.”
“We’re not critical, just discriminating,” Tracy observed. She looked over at Bucky. “Thanks for being my pillow.”
He forced a grin. “That’s OK.”
In the front seat Jill pointed down the freeway. “There’s a rest stop coming up. How about giving us feminine people a five - minute break to freshen ourselves up?”
“I vote yes,” Tracy put in. Obediently Jonathan pulled into the slow lane and edged off the freeway into the small wooded park. After a short break the two girls emerged from the restroom, both laughing about something. Jonathan gave his partner an amused look and shrugged.
“Hey, you picked ‘em,” Bucky laughed.
“I don’t see you complaining.”
As the van rumbled back onto the freeway, Bucky cocked an ear. With the music off, he suddenly detected a strange sound.
“What’s that clicking noise?”
Jonathan motioned the two girls to be quiet and strained to listen as the van resumed its usual speed. “What? I don’t hear nothin’.”
“That kind of . . . can’t you hear it? There! Tick tick tick.”
“Yeah, I hear it too,” Jill piped up. “Something’s the matter, Jonathan.”
“There’s a couple of gas stations at the next exit,” Bucky announced as a roadside sign flashed by. “Maybe we better at least fill up. Then you could have somebody listen.”
Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10) Page 66
