Curveball

by Derek Jeter

  “Hmmm,” she said.

  Derek figured that this was her way of saying no to him, always a very difficult thing for her to do. He slouched down in the backseat in disappointment. Oh, well, it had been a beautiful dream while it had lasted, and he’d always have the memory of that heroic catch, and that invitation.

  “You know . . .”

  Derek sat up, alert and suddenly hopeful.

  “Maybe your aunt Dorien could drive you over there on her way to work at the hospital. I think she does the afternoon shift on Wednesdays. She could stay with you until Uncle Ernie gets off work at the university. Then he could take over and drive you home.” Derek’s uncle Ernie worked as a plumbing contractor at Fordham in the Bronx.

  “I could ask them both, I suppose,” Grandma said softly, almost to herself. Then she glanced sternly over her shoulder at Derek. “But don’t go and set your heart on it, Derek. They might very well say no, and I wouldn’t want you to have your hopes dashed.”

  His hopes dashed? But how could he help being hopeful? His dream of playing baseball in the Bronx was alive—at least for today!

  Chapter Five

  WORKER BEE

  Derek was a man on a mission. Grandma had said he could go to the Yankees game with Dave if he did whatever jobs she gave him between now and then. Well, this was his first job, and he was determined to show her what kind of worker he was!

  He had laid out twenty-four pieces of bread and was spreading the peanut butter and jelly, piece by piece. The sandwiches would feed all the kids down at the lake when they got hungry for lunch.

  Derek had always been good about doing his chores back at home. It was a big part of the contract he’d signed with his parents, which laid down all the rules he had to abide by.

  In fact, everyone in Derek’s whole family was a hard worker. His parents were holding down two jobs each this summer, to help earn extra money so he and Sharlee could take part in all the class trips and extracurricular activities they loved.

  His grandparents, aunts, and uncles were all hard workers, so he didn’t mind having to earn the price of the Yankees tickets he wanted. Even Sharlee had chores, though she was still little. It seemed to Derek that they’d both had chores ever since they could walk.

  “Derek, don’t you think that’s a lot of peanut butter for one sandwich?” Grandma asked. Derek looked down at the peanut butter that was dripping off the edge of the bread like a gooey waterfall.

  “Oops. Sorry,” he said.

  “What’s on your mind this morning?” she asked. “Not making sandwiches, I guess.” She shot him a crooked grin and a wink.

  “I was just”—he scooped up the extra peanut butter on the edge of his knife and used it on the next piece of bread—“you know, thinking about taking Dave to—”

  “To the Yankees game. I thought so,” she said. “Well, let’s see. You’ve made how many sandwiches so far?”

  Derek counted them up. “Eight.”

  “And we need twelve. So keep working,” she said, teasing him. “Those tickets don’t come cheap.”

  Derek heard a car pulling into the driveway. “It’s Aunt Dorien!” he said excitedly, recognizing the sound of her car. “Grandma, don’t forget to ask her about—”

  “I know, I know,” she said, holding up a hand. “Don’t think for a minute that I forgot about it.”

  He quickly finished making the last sandwiches, then ran outside so that he didn’t miss anything.

  “Well, let me see, now,” Aunt Dorien was saying as she fished a datebook out of the giant purse she carried everywhere she went. You never knew what she would pull out of that bag. One time, Derek remembered, she’d pulled out a big old turtle she’d found crossing the road, because she wanted to put it back in the woods where it belonged.

  “I have a Wednesday afternoon shift,” she said. “Got to be at the hospital by four. What time does he have to be there?”

  “The game’s at three,” Derek volunteered.

  “I could get him there and stay till three thirty,” Aunt Dorien said, “but then I’d have to go, and who’d be there to watch Derek and get him home? I don’t get off work till eight.”

  “I thought maybe Ernie could get over there,” said Grandma. “He’ll be back home later, and I’ll see if he’s okay with it.”

  “Well, I am if he is,” Aunt Dorien said with a smile.

  “Thanks, Aunt Dorien!” Derek ran to hug her, and she laughed.

  “Hey, I haven’t done anything yet!” she protested.

  That was how the whole family was, always ready to help one another out. And with so many kids running around all over the place, they had to be!

  “Derek!” his grandma said, pointing. “Go make sure Alfie doesn’t wander off too near the road!”

  Alfie had slipped out of the car and had begun stumbling in the general direction of the road. Derek hustled after him and caught him, feeling vaguely guilty. He knew he was supposed to be keeping an eye on all the kids today, as part of his work for Grandma. Now he’d gotten off to a bad start. But he’d been so intent on hearing what the grown-ups were saying!

  Derek told himself to be more careful from now on.

  • • •

  “No, Deirdre, don’t hit Tommy!” Derek heroically tried to separate the two four-year-olds, both of whom seemed ready to go to war over who was going to play with the robot toy Tommy was now holding. “Allie, no! Don’t run over there. There’s poison ivy!”

  Leaving both combatants behind, Derek raced to the edge of the property by the woods, where seven-year-old Allie was about to get herself into a world of itchy torment by chasing her soccer ball into a patch of the nasty weeds.

  Wow. Taking care of kids is harder than I thought! Derek said to himself, gently leading Allie away from the edge of the woods. Then he went in after the ball himself, using a long stick to get it out of the troublesome spot, before kicking it back out into play.

  He’d been “on duty” since ten o’clock that morning, and it was now almost four in the afternoon. Soon some of the aunts and uncles would be showing up after work to pick up their kids and take them home. Most lived in or near Greenwood Lake.

  Also coming home from work would be those grown-ups who lived here at the Castle, in its large apartments, or in one of the other buildings on the property. They would include Uncle Ernie, whose return Derek was keeping an eye out for.

  Ernie was one of Derek’s favorite uncles. He was always ready to be one of the kids and play with them, chasing the little ones around like a big goofy monster, or teaching them how to throw and catch a ball. He had been one of Derek’s earliest fans.

  Derek still remembered the time when Uncle Ernie had bought him his first Yankees cap. It was way back when he was only five and had just moved to Michigan with his mom, dad, and Sharlee.

  Derek figured it was because Ernie didn’t want him to forget where he’d come from, or which team he should always, always root for. Either way, it sure had worked. Derek was a huge Yankees fan, even though his own dad rooted for the hometown Tigers.

  Of course, Grandma could also take a lot of the credit for Derek’s love of the Yankees, with her never-ending stories about Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra, and Mickey Mantle.

  Here came Uncle Ernie now, pulling into the driveway in his big red pickup truck! Derek raced over to meet him, keeping one eye on his cousins to make sure they weren’t getting into trouble.

  “Well!” said Ernie as Derek raced up to greet him. “I knew we were best buds, but you sure are excited to see me today!”

  “You’re the best, Uncle Ernie!”

  “I am? What’d I do now?” Ernie asked, scratching his head in mock confusion.

  “You’re going to come and watch me play ball in the Bronx next Wednesday, and take me home after! At least, I hope you are. . . .”

  Derek hadn’t been able to contain himself and had blurted the whole thing out just like that, without using any of the careful preparati
on he’d practiced all day long.

  But it didn’t matter. Once he’d told Ernie the whole story, his uncle nodded, stroked his chin, and said, “I don’t see why I couldn’t get down there by three thirty.” With a shrug he added, “Long as Dorien can hang with you till then, we’ll be okay.”

  Derek threw his arms around Ernie, and said, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

  “Hey! Hey, don’t get all mushy, now!”

  “So . . . we’re on for Wednesday?” Derek asked, just to make sure there was no misunderstanding.

  “You got it, big fella,” said Ernie, clapping him on the shoulder. “Anything that gets you closer to playing at Yankee Stadium, count me in.”

  Derek felt like he’d just been dropped off in heaven! Thanks to his fantastic aunt Dorien and his stupendous uncle Ernie—who’d always been big believers in Derek’s dream of playing for the Yankees—he was going to get to play ball with the best players he’d ever been around!

  Chapter Six

  WHISTLE WHILE YOU WORK

  “So, how are you holding up? Ready for some more work?”

  “Sure, Grandma,” Derek said as he helped her dry the dishes after dinner Friday evening. “Whatever it takes!”

  “Okay, then,” she said, drying her hands on a dish towel. Putting an arm around his shoulder, she led him to the kitchen table, where they both sat down. “I’ve got three neighbors lined up, and you can mow all their lawns tomorrow.” Grandma checked the items off on a list she’d made. “When you get back, you can help me with the laundry. And then—”

  “Wait, there’s more?”

  “You said you wanted to work, didn’t you?” Grandma asked. “And,” she went on, “it turns out that Charlie Detweiler’s family is going on vacation starting this weekend, so he needs somebody to cover his paper delivery route on Sunday morning. His mom says he’ll come over late tomorrow afternoon and explain everything to you. You can use your old bike to get around, if it’s not already too small for you—or you can borrow his if you need to.”

  “No, mine’s fine,” said Derek. He’d never delivered newspapers before, but it sounded like fun, and anything that involved bike riding was okay with him.

  “Good. I’ll phone them back and tell them you’re good to go.”

  “Is that it?” Derek asked, getting out of the chair. There was a TV program on in the living room, and he could hear Sharlee giggling away at whatever was so funny.

  “That’s all I’ve got for now,” she said. “Remember, though, if you want something badly enough, you’ve got to be willing to work hard to get it. Those tickets aren’t free, you know.”

  “I know, Grandma,” Derek said, giving her a hug and a kiss before heading for the living room. “Thanks.”

  He sat down on the couch next to his little sister, and laughed with her at the antics of people and animals in funny home videos on the TV show.

  But inside he was thinking way ahead. Those jobs Grandma had lined up for him sounded like they’d be a breeze. After all, biking was one of his favorite things to do. And how hard could mowing a lawn be, anyway?

  Besides, the reward at the other end was huge. Not only was he going to get to play with those kids in the Bronx next week, but he was also going to get to treat his best friend Dave to his very first major-league baseball game!

  • • •

  Whew!

  Derek paused and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He’d been pushing the lawn mower around this yard for fifteen minutes, and already his shirt was half-soaked, and his eyes stung from the beads of sweat that had trickled into them.

  The two lawns he’d already mowed were fairly small, and he’d done them at warp speed, just to get the jobs over with, so that he could have some swimming time down at the lake later in the day.

  This third lawn was much bigger, though, and just as bumpy and rocky as the other two but with higher grass, and lots of little nooks and crannies that made him have to keep turning the lawn mower this way and that.

  He paused and took a drink of water from the bottle Grandma had given him. “Don’t forget to keep drinking water,” she’d told him. “I don’t want you getting heatstroke.”

  Derek didn’t know what heatstroke was, but now, in the noonday sun, after two hours of racing around lawns, back and forth and back and forth, he was ready for a break.

  He looked around. Two thirds of the yard had yet to be touched. Derek decided he could just jam it and finish in record time, no matter how out of breath he got or how fast his heart beat. He decided to time himself, counting silently, betting that he could finish the lawn before he counted to five hundred.

  Twenty minutes later he was done. The lawn was mowed, at the count of 475. He’d cleaned off the mower and put it back into the neighbor’s garage, and thanked her when she’d paid him for his work. The second the door was shut behind her, he blew out a breath and wiped his brow, glad to finally be finished!

  He ran half the way back home but had to stop and take another drink from the water bottle, emptying it this time. His side hurt from running, and his ears popped so that his heavy breathing sounded really loud inside his head.

  Wow, he thought. Maybe I should slow it down a little next time.

  • • •

  He was tired at the end of his labors, but at least nothing hurt except for that stitch in his side. By late afternoon, though, that had changed. When Charlie Detweiler came over to show him the ins and outs of newspaper delivery, Derek’s arms and legs had already stiffened up and were sore as could be, and his feet were hot and throbbing.

  Derek was glad that his next jobs were doing laundry and delivering papers. Those tasks sounded like a snap after mowing three lawns in one day. Besides, the jingle of money in his pockets reminded him of why he was doing it all.

  He couldn’t wait for Dave to get here!

  • • •

  It was only eight in the morning, but the day was already getting hot. Derek’s legs, still sore from yesterday’s lawn mowing, kept pumping, willing the old bicycle up the long hill.

  Funny how he’d never even noticed that the road had this gradual slope. It wasn’t a steep hill, but it just kept going, and going, and going. Derek had to stand up and put all his weight into pedaling before he finally got to the top.

  This paper route, while he’d enjoyed it a lot for the first half hour or so, was getting to be a long slog. He’d done as Charlie had suggested, breaking the route down into two parts. The first part was a set of streets with lots of houses that got the paper. All Derek had to do was cycle by the front of the house and toss a paper onto the front walkway. If there was a long driveway, he would cycle in and back out, but he never had to stop the bike—just develop a rhythm of cycling and tossing.

  This second part of the route, however, was different. It went out to the edges of town, where the houses were far apart and there were more hills. Once, he misread the map Charlie had given him, and it took him ten minutes of cycling around in circles to find the right address.

  Derek tossed his last paper out of the bike’s basket and headed for home, happy to be done with his latest job. His legs felt like lead, and his right arm felt like it was about to fall off from flinging so many newspapers!

  Why was it, he wondered, that playing ball never made him achy and tired, but working did? His energy flagging fast, he made it home, stowed the bike away, and collapsed onto the sofa, ready to relax at last.

  Oh, well. At least he had made a good start on the money he needed. But it was going to take a lot more work to pay for those Yankees tickets. And with the lawns cut and the papers delivered, where else was he going to earn money?

  “How’d it go?” Grandma asked, seeing him sprawled on the sofa. “Did you rake in big bucks this morning?”

  “It was okay,” said Derek. “Tiring.”

  “Well, I hope you’re ready for more tomorrow,” she chirped. “I found you three more lawns to mow! Isn’t that dandy?”

  “Awes
ome,” Derek managed to say, without much excitement.

  “Well, then,” she said, pleased. “Feel like a game of catch before lunch?”

  “Aw, Grandma,” said Derek, shifting his aching legs on the couch, “I’m too pooped right now. Maybe later, okay? Or tomorrow . . . after lawn mowing?”

  “Well! That’s a switch,” she said. “Usually I’m the one who’s tired, and you’re the one who’s rarin’ to go!”

  He smiled but didn’t have the energy to laugh with her. Never before in his life had he turned down a game of catch!

  Chapter Seven

  HE WORKS HARD FOR THE MONEY

  Dinner on Monday evening was quieter than usual, although Sharlee kept up her usual end of the conversation, telling them excitedly about all the things that had happened to her that day: “. . . and we found this caterpillar and it was so beautiful, but then Oscar put it on Jessica’s head and she freaked out, and . . .”

  Grandma laughed at Sharlee’s antics, but Derek, who usually joined in the laughter, could only muster an occasional nod and a smile. He was just too tired to exhaust himself laughing. Looking over at Grandpa as he ate his meal, slowly and silently Derek thought he totally understood how Grandpa felt.

  Grandpa enjoyed listening to Sharlee’s stories too. He just didn’t show it in the same way. When she didn’t get the response she wanted from him, she started to climb up onto his lap while he was trying to put his napkin on it.

  “Hey, you little rascal, you. I’m trying to eat here. Look out, or I might eat you by mistake.” He pretended to try to eat her, and she burst into giggles and snuck a kiss before running away in mock fright.

  “These kids today,” he said, shaking his head and pretending to disapprove. “They think they can just kiss anybody they want.”

  After dinner they watched TV for a little while, just as they did most nights. Grandma asked Sharlee if she wanted to help with the dishes tonight instead of Derek. “I think you’re old enough to do it now, don’t you?” she asked Sharlee.