“That was some car you rode away in yesterday. Are you a prince or something?”
Roberti laughed and shook his head. But he didn’t offer any explanation of why he was being driven around in such a car.
“Okay, boys, let’s get to practice,” Coach Parker said. “All outfielders, take a position in the field. The rest of you, line up for some batting practice. The goal is to keep your teammates out there from getting bored. Jack Livingston, come with me to the mound and shag incoming throws from the outfield.”
Barry McGee, José Mendez, Alfie Maples, and Tootsie Malone, the usual outfield sub, grabbed their gloves. Alfie hesitated a moment, then called out, “Hey, Roberti, come on with me.”
Roberti grinned and picked up his brand-new glove. He caught up to Alfie and the others. Barry took up his position in left field, José moved into center, and Tootsie found a spot in between them. Alfie jogged into right field close to José, then motioned for Roberti to stand a little way away from him on the other side.
When they were ready, Coach Parker had Sparrow and Zero Ford take turns throwing easy-to-hit pitches to their teammates. Soon the fly balls were soaring into the outfield one after another.
Alfie tried to explain the outfielders’ movements to Roberti with each hit.
Whap! The ball flew high in the sky to left field.
“See how Barry’s holding his glove up like that? That puts his glove in position for the catch. It also helps him block out the sun so he doesn’t lose sight of the ball. And when he catches it, he squeezes the fingers of the glove together really tightly and makes sure his free hand traps it in the pocket.”
Thwack!
“Okay, that ball is coming down right between José and Tootsie. One of them should call for it so that the other one backs away. Otherwise, crash! They’ll run into each other!”
Pow! Another ball soared way up and behind Barry.
“It’s usually better to run backwards to catch a fly ball over your head than to turn around and run. If you turn, you could be off-balance or lose sight of the ball for a second.”
But a moment later, when Alfie tried to back up to make a catch, he tripped over his feet and fell. While the other outfielders laughed good-naturedly, he grinned sheepishly. “Well, maybe sometimes it’s better to turn around and chase it!” he admitted as Roberti helped him up.
The next ball hit headed between Alfie and Roberti. Alfie hesitated, then called for Roberti to take it.
Roberti did everything just as Alfie had suggested: He held the glove high, backed up a few quick steps, squeezed the fingers together when the ball hit the pocket, then cupped his other hand over it to be sure it was trapped. He fished the ball out triumphantly.
“Okay, just get it as near Jack as you can,” Alfie started to say. But he needn’t have bothered. With a pinpoint accurate throw, Roberti hurled the ball in. It smacked solidly into Jack’s glove.
Roberti grinned at Alfie. “How did I do?”
“That was just right,” Alfie said. “You catch on quickly.” Almost too quickly, he added worriedly to himself. And what an arm!
7
The next morning, Alfie woke up to the sound of rain pounding on the window. He knew practice would be cancelled, so he rolled out of bed and padded downstairs in his pajamas. He was just finishing a bowl of cereal when the phone rang. His mother picked it up, then called out that it was for him.
“Hello?”
“Alfie! I hope I am not calling you too early in the morning?” It was Roberti.
Alfie told him he wasn’t.
“Oh,” said Roberti. “I was thinking to myself, do you know how to swim?”
“Swim?” Alfie echoed. “Yeah, I know how to swim.”
“Good!” Roberti said happily. “Then would you like to go swimming with me today?”
“But it’s raining!”
“There is a place we can go where we will not get wet.”
Alfie started to laugh. “Okay, but it’s going to be pretty tough to stay dry while we’re swimming!”
Roberti laughed, too. Alfie ran to ask his mother if it was okay for him to go.
“Let me talk to Roberti’s guardian,” she said. Alfie relayed the message to Roberti.
A moment later, Mrs. Maples was talking with someone on the other line. Alfie hung around, waiting for her to finish. Suddenly Mrs. Maples glanced at him, then turned around in her chair and continued speaking in a low voice.
Alfie thought that was strange, but forgot all about it when Mrs. Maples called out that Roberti would be by in fifteen minutes to pick him up.
Alfie raced up the stairs to find his suit and a towel. He packed both into his knapsack, then changed into shorts, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt before going back downstairs carrying the pack.
As he passed the living room door, he paused, then went in. He pulled a few geography magazines from his pile to take with him. Maybe I can ask Roberti if he’s from one of these places, he thought.
A little later, the doorbell rang. “Mom, Roberti’s here! I’m leaving now!” Alfie called.
“Well, hold on one second. I’d like to meet your new friend.” She came around the corner just as Alfie opened the door for Roberti.
“My goodness!” Mrs. Maples exclaimed. For a moment, Alfie didn’t know what was wrong. Then he realized that Roberti had been driven over in the limousine. It idled at the curb.
“Mom, this is Roberti. Roberti, this is my mom. Can we go now?”
Roberti smiled at Mrs. Maples and held out his hand. “It is very nice to meet Alfie’s mother,” he said. “My guardian said you had a nice talk earlier. Are you ready to go swimming, Alfie?”
His mother nodded that it was okay for him to go. Alfie thought he heard her mumble something about “a car big enough to swim in” just as the front door closed.
Awed, Alfie sat down in the huge backseat of the limo. Roberti flopped next to him and pointed to the magazines Alfie held tightly. “What are those?” he asked.
Suddenly Alfie wasn’t sure he wanted to show them to Roberti. What if Roberti thought they were dumb?
“Oh, they’re just some old magazines,” he mumbled. He flipped through the pages of one, then tried to tuck it into his knapsack. But Roberti pulled it out of his hands. His eyes were bright, and he was grinning broadly.
“I have copies of these magazines, too,” he said. “I had to leave mine at home. I hope you will let me look through these today!”
“Sure!” Alfie said, relieved. “Here, let me show you my favorite pictures.”
For the next fifteen minutes, the two boys turned through the pages of color photographs and illustrations. Alfie was surprised at how familiar Roberti seemed with several of the places pictured.
“Did you live in all these countries?” Alfie finally asked.
Roberti shrugged. “I have traveled to some. Others are places I will someday visit.”
“How do you know that?” Alfie wondered.
Roberti smiled but didn’t answer. Instead, he pointed out the window. “Here we are, at the swimming place!”
Alfie looked up in amazement. They were parked in front of a fancy hotel located in the next town. Alfie had seen a picture of it in the newspaper once, but he had never dreamed he’d be going inside.
“Wow!” he breathed. “It’s like a palace!”
Roberti laughed. “Come on!” he said.
For the next three hours, the boys splashed and played in the hotel’s pool. When they got hungry, Roberti asked his guardian to order them some burgers, fries, and thick milkshakes.
While they ate, Roberti surprised Alfie by peppering him with questions about baseball, especially about right field. Alfie shared all he could, often using stories about mistakes he had made to explain the right and wrong way to do things in the field.
“You know how I told you about getting back in time to catch a long fly ball? Well, one time when I first started playing, a high fly ball was going really far behind me.
I couldn’t make up my mind if I should run backwards or turn around. So I ended up trying to do both at the same time! Coach Parker said I looked like I was caught in a twister.” Laughing, he shook his head at the memory.
“It must be fun to play baseball all the time,” Roberti said wistfully.
Alfie shrugged. “Well, maybe you can play in a game sometime,” he said.
“Yes,” Roberti said with a strange smile. “Maybe even very soon.”
8
Coach Parker called for a make-up practice the day after the rainstorm.
“We’ve got a big game against the Dragons coming up!” he reminded everyone when they gathered at the field.
For the first drill, he put his regular infield lineup in position except for the pitcher. Then he told all the outfielders, including the subs, to get into position. The remaining players would act as batters and run the bases after each hit.
As Alfie and Roberti waited in the field together, Alfie tried to explain the rules about where to throw the ball when a runner was on base.
“If the bases are empty, it’s easy—the throw goes to first. But if there’s a runner on first and the batter gets a base hit, the runner has to move to second, right? So where do you throw?”
Alfie could see Roberti working it out in his head. “Second?” Roberti answered.
“Right! If your throw is good and strong, the ball will beat him there and he’ll be out. That’s called a force-out. And then if the second baseman can throw the batter out at first, you can turn that into a double play.”
Just as he had the day before, Roberti seemed to soak up all the information Alfie was giving him. He asked questions when he didn’t understand something.
“But what if the runner is at second base and there is no runner behind him who is forcing him to move? Should I throw to third?”
Alfie thought for a moment. “That’s a tricky one. It’s bad when a runner gets to third base, because then he’s in scoring position. But since he doesn’t have to run from second to third, you might be in better shape if you throw out the batter at first.” Alfie pondered further. “I guess the most important thing is to make a quick decision and a good throw.”
Roberti nodded. “A good throw, yes. I will try.”
The drill started. One fly ball after another soared into the outfield. One throw followed the next. Sometimes the throw beat the runner, but sometimes the runner was safe. Roberti made a few mistakes, dropped a few balls, and chased a few others, but by the end of the drill, all the outfielders could see that he had improved from the last practice.
When Coach Parker called them in at the end of practice, the outfielders all jogged along together.
José fell in next to Roberti. “Wow! I can’t believe you’re the same guy!” he said.
Tootsie nodded. “Yeah, looks like we’ve got another good outfield sub. Just in time, too, because my folks and I are going on vacation next week. Now I don’t have to leave the Mudders short a man!”
“Thank you for your kind words,” Roberti said. His face was flushed with happiness. “Alfie is very good to teach me.”
Barry laughed. “Yup, ol’ Alfie here really knows how to talk the game. In fact, I wonder if the student is going to beat out his teacher soon?”
Roberti looked at Alfie curiously. Alfie reddened. He was glad practice was over for the day so he could ignore Barry’s gibe. He just hoped that look from Roberti didn’t mean he took the comment seriously.
But as he left the field, something Roberti had said the day before stuck in his mind—something about playing in a baseball game very soon.
9
“Hey, Alfie, we’re going to get together a pickup game later today. Wanna come?”
Nicky Chong had run to catch up with Alfie in the parking lot. Roberti was with him.
“Please, Alfie, it is important for me to see you play,” Roberti said.
Why is that? Alfie wondered suddenly. So you can see if you’re getting better than me?
He quickly pushed the thought away. Roberti isn’t like that, he tried to assure himself. He agreed to meet up with everyone after lunch.
“Great, see you then!” Nicky said. He ran off to nab Turtleneck. Roberti climbed into the back of the waiting limousine, waved to Alfie, and sped off.
Later in the day, they all met again on the field. They chose up teams. Alfie and Roberti were on opposite sides, but both were playing right field.
“I wish we were on the same team, Alfie,” Roberti said. “I was hoping you could tell me the best way to get a hit.”
Alfie gulped. When he was playing in the outfield, he knew he could mess up from time to time without anybody coming down on him too hard. After all, everybody dropped a few balls or made a few lousy throws now and then. But at the plate it was a different story. There, all eyes were on you. And if you failed to get a hit too many times in a row, people started to talk.
He finally answered the only way he knew how. “Just keep your eye on the ball and swing to meet it. Just remember, be waiting for it!” Alfie punched his fist into his glove and headed out to right field.
When everyone was in position, Roberti trotted to the batter’s box and held the bat over his shoulder. Sparrow threw a nice straight pitch.
Wham!
Roberti clubbed the ball in a hard line drive right between first and second. Turtleneck and Nicky were so stunned, they just let it bounce into right field.
“Holy cow!” catcher Rudy Calhoun yelped.
“I did it, Alfie—I kept my eye on the ball and met it!” Roberti cried as he rounded the bases.
Alfie was too busy chasing the ball to answer back. But he couldn’t stop his thoughts. I’ll say you did. You’re a natural at the plate. A real natural. You sure didn’t need me to give you any pointers. I wonder if you ever did.…
The game continued for another hour, then broke up. Roberti had stunned everyone by getting hit after hit and making clean catches and throws most plays. They all crowded around the newcomer in right field, who laughed and joked along with them. Only Alfie hung back. But he didn’t miss Roberti whispering to Bus. Bus glanced over at Alfie with a surprised look on his face, then nodded and whispered back.
Alfie slowly gathered up his gear. As he left the dugout, he overheard Roberti talking to Bus.
“That’s right,” he said. “I will be playing right field very soon.”
Alfie felt like Roberti had just punched him in the stomach. And it hurt something fierce.
10
Alfie sat with his chin in his hands, poking at his cereal. His glove lay on the table next to him and he was dressed in his Mudders uniform. But the last thing he felt like doing was playing baseball.
All night long, he had thought about what Roberti had said the day before.
You think a guy is your friend. Then he goes and pulls something like this! Alfie thought miserably.
Alfie’s mother came into the kitchen. She glanced at the clock, then at her son.
“Hey, sport, aren’t you going to be late for your game? You’re usually calling all over the house for me to come drive you by now!”
Alfie sighed, then picked up his glove. “Okay, I guess it’s time to go,” he said as he dumped his bowl into the sink and filled it with water.
The car ride to the game was silent until they pulled into the parking lot. Roberti’s limousine was already there, but Alfie barely looked at it. He was about to get out of the car when his mother stopped him.
“Alfie, what’s wrong?” she asked softly. “I’ve never seen you so glum right before a game.”
Then it all came rushing out: How Alfie had done his best to be Roberti’s friend and coach despite his concerns for his own position. And how now it looked like Roberti was going to take over his spot.
“And that’s what really hurts, isn’t it? You feel like he used you?” Mrs. Maples finished for him. Alfie hung his head and nodded. “Well, I think we’d better go clear this up. Come on
.”
Alfie started to protest, but his mother ignored him. She marched right to the dugout.
Most of the team was already gathered there. Roberti was right in the center, laughing and talking with the others as if he had been a Mudder since the squad had started.
“Alfie! There you are!” Roberti broke through the ring of boys and headed toward Alfie. “Guess what! Coach Parker said—”
“Roberti!” Mrs. Maples interrupted. Alfie looked up at her in surprise. “Don’t you think you had better wait for Coach Parker to make that announcement, Roberti?” Roberti gave Mrs. Maples a strange smile, then nodded knowingly.
“Yes, perhaps it would be best for him to be here, too,” Roberti agreed.
Alfie frowned. When did Mom and Roberti become so chummy? he thought. He suddenly became aware that the other boys were whispering, giving him sidelong glances, and trying to hold back laughter. The air was thick with excitement.
Alfie couldn’t stand it any longer. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asked angrily. “Somebody better tell me what the big secret is or—”
“Or what?” a voice boomed behind him.
Coach Parker strode up to the dugout, followed by Roberti’s guardian. “Well, Alfie?”
But it was Roberti who spoke. “Coach Parker, I want to tell Alfie the good news?” he said.
“Don’t bother—I already know what it is,” Alfie mumbled.
Roberti’s eyes widened. “You do?” he asked.
“Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that you’re taking over the starting right field position,” Alfie replied.
To Alfie’s amazement, Roberti started laughing. The other Mudders joined in, as did Coach Parker, his mother, and Roberti’s guardian.
Roberti cried, “Oh, Alfie, I am sorry to be laughing. But it is because I am so happy to tell you that that is not true!”
“Perhaps I can explain.” Roberti’s guardian stepped forward. He introduced himself as Mr. Bannon. He laid one hand on Alfie’s shoulder, the other on Roberti’s, and turned the boys so that they were facing each other.
Stranger in Right Field Page 2
