Curveball
Page 7
Was he imagining it, Derek wondered. Or was it hotter today than it had been all summer? He’d taken numerous breaks for water from the fountain, but he still felt as thirsty as if he hadn’t had a drop to drink.
Just as he was about to admit defeat and go tell Grandpa he couldn’t do any more work that day, he felt a big hand gently tapping him on the shoulder.
Derek wheeled around, expecting to see Grandpa but instead saw the kind, smiling face of Jordy Johnson.
“Oh. Hi,” Derek said, wiping his brow with his forearm. “How are you?”
Jordy didn’t answer, of course. He held up a finger, indicating that Derek should wait a moment. Then he bent down, unhooked the bag of grass clippings, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and headed to the side of the field to empty it.
Derek watched him go, leaning on the mower to rest a little. Jordy had obviously seen him struggling with his job and had come to help.
Looking around, Derek didn’t see his grandpa anywhere. Probably he was still working on the cement job out front. Derek wondered if Grandpa had seen Jordy go out to the field, or if Grandpa had actually told Jordy to go check on Derek.
Jordy returned and hooked the bag back up. Then he nodded at Derek and indicated that he should start the mower up again. From then on, every time the bag filled up, Jordy was the one who emptied it.
And fifteen minutes later, when Derek’s strength was again nearly at an end, Jordy took over the mowing, too, giving Derek a chance to rest before taking charge of things again.
Soon, thankfully, it was time for lunch. The big sandwiches Grandma had made them, along with the thermos of iced tea, went a long way toward restoring Derek’s strength.
Grandpa asked how it was going, and Derek said, “Fine.” But otherwise neither of them talked at all. Derek, for his part, was much too tired to waste energy flapping his lips. No wonder Grandpa never says much, he thought.
The afternoon started off with new momentum, but by three thirty Derek was played out again, even worse than before lunch. And once again, with the same perfect sense of timing, Jordy appeared and took the mower from him, giving Derek a chance to rest.
Jordy was a big man, for sure. You could tell he worked hard every day too, because every ounce of him was muscle. Mowing the football field seemed to pose no problem. He gave the mower back to Derek after twenty minutes or so, just long enough for Derek to rest his sore muscles and his hands, which were growing blisters at the base of every finger.
Derek could see the light at the end of the tunnel now. By four forty-five he had only one row left to mow, and he finished it just as the bell at the top of the steeple struck five.
Jordy signaled for Derek to hand over the mower, and he disappeared with the big machine, heading back toward the equipment shed.
Derek went around the front of the church to find his grandpa gathering his supplies and cleaning up. The sidewalk had been repaired, and there were stakes with ropes to keep people off the wet cement till it dried.
“You done with the field?” his grandpa asked.
“Yup!” Derek said, not without a bit of pride, even though he knew he couldn’t have done it without help.
His grandpa shook his head. “Took you long enough. I’ll bet the grass has grown back by now and needs mowing again.”
It was a good thing Derek knew he was joking. That was just Grandpa’s sense of humor.
By five thirty everything was put away and it was time to go home. Derek went over to say good-bye to Jordy. “Thanks for the help, Mr. Johnson,” he said, shaking Jordy’s hand. “I really appreciate it. I couldn’t have finished without you.”
Jordy waved him off, as if to say, It was nothing.
But Derek knew it wasn’t nothing. Not at all. Jordy had saved his day and made it a success.
In the truck on the way home, Grandpa, as usual, didn’t say much. But what he did say was something Derek would always remember.
“I was glad to see you shake Jordy’s hand and call him ‘Mr. Johnson,’ ” he began. “You know, a lot of the kids at the school don’t treat him right at all. Make fun of him. Give him no respect. It’s not right. Jordy’s a good, good man. Those kids could learn a lot about life from him if they’d only pay attention.”
After what had happened today, Derek knew it was true. You just never knew who had something to teach you in life, unless you gave them a chance.
“So,” his grandpa went on, “now you know what your grandpa does every day for work. What do you think? Would you like to grow up and have my job someday?”
Derek thought about how to answer. He didn’t want to hurt Grandpa’s feelings. He knew Grandpa did an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay—and Derek respected how hard the work was too.
But there was no way he wanted to work that hard every day when he got to be a grown-up. Besides, he already knew what he wanted to do—play shortstop for the Yankees!
“Um . . . ,” Derek began.
“That’s what I thought,” said Grandpa. “Well, there y’go. You know, kiddo, if you want to play professional ball, you have to work harder than everyone else. At everything. You have to practice harder than everyone else.”
Derek knew how incredibly lucky he was, to have two parents who were great role models and would do anything to help him achieve his goals, including working two jobs all summer while he went off and had fun.
And his good fortune didn’t stop there. He had a grandma who worked all day taking care of the whole extended family, while still finding time to play with him and Sharlee whenever they wanted, and a grandpa who worked his tail off every day to support his family.
They were all great role models, he thought. But they weren’t the only ones. Derek had lots of people he looked up to in life. There was Dave Winfield, his favorite baseball player. There was Jumbo over in the Bronx, who played shortstop the way Derek hoped to play the position, and Tiny, who was kind to the other kids and was a good leader, even if he was tough on the outside.
And there was Jordy Johnson, too, who had shown him something today he hadn’t realized before: how much a little consideration, a little kindness and helpfulness, can mean to others.
Thanks to Jordy’s help, Derek had made a success of his biggest work challenge yet, and had kept his hopes alive of going to that Yankees game with Dave. And before today he hadn’t even known Jordy!
Chapter Eleven
CROSSING THE LINE
“Well! There you are!” said Grandma as Derek came down the stairs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
He looked over at the wall clock. “Ten thirty!” he gasped. “Whoa.”
“I guess you were tired out after yesterday,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “Have a seat. I’ve got eggs ready for you, if you’re ready for them.”
Derek nodded, saving himself the effort of opening his mouth and speaking. He was so dog-tired that he could barely move. Every muscle was sore, and he had blisters on his palms from pushing the mower, not to mention the ones on the balls of his feet.
He hobbled over to the table like an old man, and collapsed into a wooden chair. “Ooohhh,” he groaned. “Everything hurts.”
“Well, I’ve got something that’ll make you feel better,” she told him as she brought him a plateful of eggs with a side of home fries and bacon. “Your grandpa said he was proud of you, by the way.”
“Really?”
“He told me you mowed the whole athletic field,” said Grandma, sitting down opposite Derek and picking up her half-full cup of coffee. “I’ve been there and seen that field. It’s enormous.”
Derek let out a laugh, even though it was definitely not funny.
“You’ve worked very hard, Derek,” she went on. “You’ve earned more than half the money you needed to. And since Grandpa and I want to let you enjoy your free time here too, we’ve decided to kick in the rest, including a little extra for snacks at the ballpark.”
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“You mean I get to take Dave to the Yankees game?” Derek could hardly believe it!
“That’s right,” she said. “We’re very proud of you.”
“Yahoo!” Derek yelled, springing up from his seat in sheer excitement. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow.” He sat back down, slowly and gingerly. Excitement or not, he was going to have to take it easy for a couple of days. Every muscle in his body ached.
But what did it matter? He and Dave were going to see the Yankees! “Awesome!” he said. “Thanks, Grandma! You and Grandpa are the best.”
“Well, we know that,” she said with a little grin.
“I’d get up and hug you, but—”
“I know, I know. I feel old sometimes myself, believe it or not. Oh, and here’s another piece of good news. While you and Grandpa were at work, I got a call from your friend Dave’s parents. It took a bit of convincing, but they agreed to let him play ball with you in the Bronx, provided I personally am there to supervise.”
“Awesome!” Derek shouted, springing up, then wincing in pain as the muscles in his back told him to sit back down.
Then he thought of something else—something really, really important. “Grandma? Do you think we can go see the Yankees on a Wednesday, so we can do both on the same day?”
“Oh! Well, let me see, now. . . . I’ll first have to check whether the Yanks are playing at home that day. But it would be a lot of fun to see you play. I’d like to see you show off all those new skills of yours in a real, live game. Aunt Dorien and Uncle Ernie tell me those kids are very good players. It sounds exciting!”
Derek could barely contain his happiness. Of course, he already knew the Yankees would be in town the week Dave was coming. He’d made sure of that before he’d even come east for the summer!
Derek was so stoked that he didn’t even mind the aches and pains he was feeling. He’d done it! He’d made good on his promise to take Dave to see the Yankees.
And he and Dave were going to get to play ball together with his new friends from the Bronx!
Best of all, Derek had made his grandpa proud, although it had taken Jordy Johnson’s help. All in all, working harder than he ever had in his life had been well worth it!
• • •
The following Wednesday, two days before Dave was scheduled to arrive, Derek returned to the Bronx with Aunt Dorien. His body had recovered from his monster day of work with Grandpa, and he was eager to get out onto the field, especially since today he’d have the chance to play shortstop.
After hopping out of the car, he jogged over to the kids, who were already busy choosing sides for today’s game. Meanwhile, Aunt Dorien parked half a block down. The Yanks were out of town this week, so there was no problem finding parking spaces nearby, and no need to pay for a spot in a crowded parking lot.
“Yo, yo, yo!” called Yo-yo, seeing Derek first. “Jersey Boy is here!”
Funny, being called that, Derek thought. He was much more of a Michigan boy in his own mind, even though he’d been born in New Jersey and spent most of his summers there.
Everyone greeted him with pats on the back or taps of their mitts. Then Jumbo said, “Listen up. I told Derek he could play short today, so we’ve gotta be on opposite sides, whatever else happens.”
Nobody argued with Jumbo, Derek noticed.
Tiny was the other captain, and he motioned Derek over. “Okay, I’ve got Derek,” he said. “Your pick, Jumbo.”
“I’ve got Bluebelly.”
“Okay. I’ve got Pokey.”
“I’ve got Yo-yo.”
On and on it went.
The game started with Derek’s team at bat. Tiny had him hitting second, right after Pokey—who, like the others, had obviously been given that nickname as a joke. With his lightning speed, he beat out the throw to first after his weak grounder, sending Derek to the plate with a man on.
“Hit a home run, Derek!” he heard his aunt cheer as he stepped into the batter’s box. The only other spectators were kids from around the neighborhood, who were as likely to boo as they were to cheer.
The pitcher was a kid they called Doogie, a big kid who looked fourteen, even though Tiny had told Derek he was only twelve. It didn’t matter. Doogie could really fire the ball in there.
Derek didn’t know if Doogie had a curve or a changeup in his arsenal, but Derek was determined to look for a fastball and try to get out in front of it.
It was difficult because Doogie threw so hard. The first two pitches blew by Derek before he got his bat around. With an 0–2 count and the ball coming in at that speed, Derek could only swing and hope the ball would run into his bat.
CRACK! To his surprise, he hit it! Unfortunately, it was right at Jumbo, who dove to his right and stretched full-out to make the catch in midair. Then Jumbo sprang to his feet and fired to first to double off Pokey, who had sped off for second, sure that the ball was a base hit.
Jumbo shouted in triumph, and the kids who were crowded outside the chain-link fence watching the game whooped it up.
Derek felt bad, but as he returned to the dugout, Tiny said, “Good contact, Jersey. Not your fault. Next time just don’t hit it to short.”
Jersey. Derek kind of liked it. It was better than Jersey Boy, anyhow. Jersey Jeter. Yeah . . . it had a kind of ring to it.
The third out was registered on a strikeout, and Derek’s team took the field. Derek threw the ball around the infield with his teammates for a few seconds, and then Jumbo yelled, “Come on, let’s go! Play ball!”
Jumbo, as captain, had himself leading off and was already standing in the batter’s box, waggling his bat back and forth over his shoulder.
Tiny said, “Easy, easy, man,” put on his catcher’s mask, and squatted down behind the plate.
Derek bounced lightly up and down on the balls of his feet, in position to catch anything that came his way. He could see Jumbo surveying the field, looking for weak spots where he could hit the ball.
Maybe it was just where the pitch was thrown, or maybe Jumbo did it on purpose because he doubted Derek’s abilities at short. Either way, the ball screamed off Jumbo’s bat right at Derek, and about four feet over his head. Derek reacted without thinking, darting back, then launching himself at the ball, which was already behind him.
His arm just about left its socket, but he somehow snagged the ball and came down with it in his mitt! He heard a roar go up from the other kids as he threw it back in to the pitcher.
Glancing over at the first-base line, Derek saw Jumbo slam his batting helmet into the ground, so hard that it bounced up and nearly hit him in the face. He looked over at Derek, and there was an expression on his face that Derek had never seen before. What was it? Surprise? Respect? Envy, even?
Derek soon made two more amazing plays at short. The first was a behind-the-back flip to the second baseman, just in time to nip the runner sliding into the bag. On the very next pitch the batter looped a pop fly into short left field. Derek tracked it over his shoulder and made a basket catch to end the third inning!
He noticed that Jumbo kept glancing over at him. Something was on Jumbo’s mind, something to do with Derek. But what was it?
In the fourth, Derek led off the inning. This time he was determined to try to hit it the other way, away from Jumbo at shortstop. In fact, when the pitcher was throwing this hard, hitting to the opposite field was easier than trying to pull the ball. All Derek had to do was slap the ball toward the hole between the first and second basemen.
He let two pitches go by, for a ball and a strike. Then, seeing his pitch coming, he just stuck his bat out to meet it. The ball skittered toward right field. Both the first and second basemen dived for the ball, but neither could come up with it.
Derek was safe at first, but he had no intention of staying there. He took only a small lead on the next pitch, but just as the catcher was about to throw the ball back to the pitcher, Derek took off for second base.
He would have been dead meat if the catcher had still be
en holding the ball. But the ball had already left the catcher’s hand, and by the time the pitcher grabbed it, wheeled around, and threw to second, Derek was already sliding in safely.
“Way to go, Jersey!” Tiny yelled. “We’ve got us a winner here!” He pumped his fist, then pointed out at Derek. Derek nodded back, trying to be cool, even though he was practically floating on air.
Now it was Tiny’s turn to hit. Doogie, the pitcher, tried to make him swing at bad pitches. Clearly, with first base open, he didn’t want to give up a big hit to the other team’s best hitter.
But Tiny wasn’t up there to walk and leave it up to the next guy. That wasn’t the kind of player he was. Derek watched as Tiny reached way out past the plate and managed to get decent wood on a pitch that wasn’t more than three inches off the ground. The ball rose into the air, over the first baseman’s head, and fell just fair before bouncing into foul territory.
Derek had a good look at the ball off the bat and saw that it was going to fall between the first baseman and the right fielder, who had been playing deep for Tiny. Derek took off at full speed and never stopped until he slid into home with the first run of the game!
“Attaboy, Derek!” he heard Uncle Ernie yelling. “Way to go!”
The score stayed 1–0 into the sixth inning. Jumbo’s team was up for their last licks, and Jumbo, who would be fourth to bat in the inning, was clearly itching for a chance to turn the game around.
But first someone had to get on base. And Iceman, who had come on to pitch for Derek’s team in the fifth, was dealing. He struck out the first two men, and Derek smelled victory in the air. If they could just get this last guy out, Jumbo would never get to the plate. The game would end with him in the on-deck circle, powerless to change the outcome.
Pokey was a hard kid to strike out because he was so short that his strike zone was tiny. He crouched down in his stance so low that a pitcher had to thread a needle to get a strike on him.
The last thing Iceman wanted to do was walk someone ahead of Jumbo. Behind 3–0, Iceman threw a nice, fat pitch over the heart of the plate, and Pokey whipped a hard grounder back up the middle for a single.