Wild Pitch

by Matt Christopher

  “Fine. But I never thought I’d see you here. What’ve you got there?”

  He smiled. “A present.”

  “A present for me? Or is it a flag of truce?”

  “Maybe both,” he said tensely, and handed it to her.

  “Thank you. Oh, wow.”

  He forced a grin. “I was afraid you’d think I had hit you on purpose, and I didn’t. It was a wild pitch. An accident.”

  She looked at the woman by the window.

  “Mom, this is Eddie Rhodes,” she said. “My mother, Eddie.”

  Eddie met the woman’s eyes. They were brown, wide, and cold.

  “I know,” she replied stiffly before Eddie could speak. “I recognized him the minute he stepped into the room.”

  Her voice chilled him, and Eddie felt like turning around and walking out. But an inner voice compelled him to stay—at least for a little while longer.

  “Hi, Mrs. Monahan,” he said quietly.

  “You’re the one who almost ran into me with your bike,” Phyllis broke in. “You, and another kid.”

  “Yes,” he said, then frowned, slightly piqued. “Look, you don’t think I did that on purpose, too, do you?”

  She tightened her lips.

  “I don’t know. But you seem to cause the most peculiar accidents and they all happen to me.”

  He shook his head. “I know. But they were accidents. Especially hitting you on the head. I’m pretty wild at times. It’s not the first time I’ve thrown a pitch like that.”

  “Then you shouldn’t pitch!” Mrs. Monahan snapped angrily.

  Both Eddie and Phyllis looked around at her. She had gotten off her chair, and was standing there; her eyes glittered.

  “If you know you’re a wild pitcher, you shouldn’t be pitching. You should know better, and your coach should know better,” she said hotly. “What if she hadn’t been wearing that helmet? That ball might’ve killed her. You’re lucky, young man, that it wasn’t worse than it was, or I’d see to it that—”

  “Mom, please,” Phyllis interrupted.

  Eddie’s heart thumped like a machine. “I think I’ll leave,” he said, and started for the door.

  “No, wait!” Phyllis called to him.

  He paused and looked at her and saw her turn to her mother. “Mom, do you mind if … if we talked alone for a minute?” she asked calmly.

  Mrs. Monahan frowned.

  “What can you talk about?”

  “Please, Mom?”

  Her mother glared at her, then at Eddie. “This is ridiculous,” she exclaimed, and stormed out of the room. He could hear her hard heels click against the tiled floor as she went down the corridor.

  Phyllis motioned to him. “Come closer so we won’t have to talk so loudly,” she said.

  He stepped up closer to the bed, feeling a sense of guilt because she had asked her mother to leave the room. He was nervous, and looked around at the flock of get-well cards scotch-taped to the wall behind her, and a stack of letters on the table beside her.

  “You can’t blame my mother,” Phyllis said softly. “Both she and my dad were very worried about me. I was in a coma for a whole day, you know.”

  “All I know is that you were in intensive care for a couple of days.”

  She searched his eyes. “How did you know that?”

  “I’ve been wanting to see you, but there was always someone here. That’s why I came this morning.”

  “You mean it? You’ve been trying to see me?”

  He nodded. “Would I lie about that?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t. I’m no jerk. And I mean it when I say I didn’t hit you on purpose.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  “Will you do me a favor?” she asked, opening her eyes again. “Will you crank up this end of the bed? There’s a crank there on the end.”

  “Sure.”

  He found the crank, wound it a few times, and got her up to where she sat comfortably.

  “Thanks,” she said. She looked at the box. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

  “I know, but I wanted to.”

  “What a beautiful wrapping job!”

  “My mother did it.”

  “I hate to ruin it. But—do you mind?”

  “No. I’d like you to. If you don’t like what’s in it, I’ll take it home and eat it myself.”

  “Candy!” she said, tearing off the wrapper. “Chocolates?”

  “Right. Worst thing for teeth you can eat.”

  “Hmmmm!” she smiled, delighted.

  Once she had the outside wrapper off she tore off the cellophane wrapper, then opened the box. “Oh, wow!” she cried. “Yummyyummyyummy! Can I sample one now?”

  “They’re yours. Sample them all if you want to. No. Better not. Save some for your mother.”

  She smiled at him, then picked out a chocolate-coated cherry and bit off half of it.

  Eddie watched her, feeling good that he had brought her a gift she appreciated. Thank you, Roxie.

  “What about your head?” he asked, looking at the bandage she had wrapped around it. “How soon can you play baseball again? Did the doctor say?”

  She looked at the other piece of the chocolate. “He said it might be a long time. It was quite a bang, you know.”

  “Yes, I know.” He watched her plunk the piece into her mouth and start chewing it. “Did he say you would be able to play again this year?”

  “I didn’t ask him.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was afraid to.”

  He frowned. “Because he might say you shouldn’t?”

  She searched for another piece of candy, then suddenly held out the box to him.

  “Boy, am I dumb. I guess I left my manners home. Here, take one.”

  “No, thanks.” He was anxious to know more about her condition, how serious the injury was. “Are you afraid he might say you shouldn’t?”

  “I guess so.”

  He went over to the wall and read a few of the cards. Some were serious, some humorous. One large card with a picture of a sick dog holding a thermometer in its mouth was signed “Love, from Mingo.”

  Eddie looked at Phyllis. “Mingo? Is that Chinese?” She laughed. “No! That’s his name. He’s my cousin.”

  Eddie frowned. “A big kid? Dark hair? Kind of wild?”

  “That could be him. You know him?”

  “Know him? He’s been after me ever since I hit you. I thought he was going to run me down with his car the other day. You sure he’s not a case for the guys in the white coats?”

  She smiled. “He told me he was going to get you one of these days, but I told him to lay off. He hasn’t bothered you any more, has he?”

  “No. But I thought that’s because he hasn’t seen me on the streets. I saw him here in the lounge yesterday. Him and a girl.”

  She frowned at him. “You were here yesterday?”

  He nodded.

  “Why didn’t you come to see me? Did he scare you away?”

  He chuckled wryly. “Well, when I saw him and the girl sitting there, I knew they were waiting for somebody to come back from seeing you so they’d be able to go. I didn’t think I had a chance, so I left.”

  “That was Sally, his girl friend. They didn’t tell me they saw you.”

  “I figured that when you didn’t mention it earlier.”

  She shook her head disgustedly. “Mingo acts as though he’s my older brother sometimes. He’s even forbidden me to see certain movies after he’s seen them. My parents think that’s all right, but I think I’ve reached the age to make up my own mind about such matters. How about you?”

  Eddie shrugged. “Tip and I—you know Tip.”

  “Yes. Your friend.”

  “Right. He and I see a couple of movies a month. Those that kids our age can see. Action pictures mostly.”

  “I love them, too,” she said.

  She
ate another chocolate, then closed the box and set it on the table.

  “Those were delicious,” she said, beaming. “Did I say thanks? If not—thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Well, I’m really glad I came this morning.”

  She tilted her head. “I am, too. I was afraid you’d be the type of guy I’d hate for the rest of my life.”

  “I was afraid of that. That’s why I came.”

  She looked deeply into his eyes.

  “How old are you?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “So am I.”

  “You look older.”

  “I know. That’s why my dad wanted me to be a first baseman.”

  His forehead creased. “Was it his idea that you play baseball?”

  She shook her head.

  “No. It was mine. I’ve played ever since I could lift a bat. Dad was a baseball player, and I’m an only child, so as I grew older we played together an awful lot. Lately, though, he hasn’t had much time. He’s got a different job.”

  She shrugged, as if she didn’t care about pursuing the topic.

  Eddie looked at her, suddenly glad he had made it a point to see her, to know her better. She wasn’t a jerk kid, a girl who just happened to be a good baseball player, he thought. She was intelligent, and understanding. In spite of how he had felt about a girl playing on a baseball team before, he thought she deserved another break. It was his duty to give it to her.

  “In that case, maybe I can help you,” he said.

  She folded her hands on her lap and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I’d like to help you get back to playing baseball.”

  She looked at him, opened her mouth as if to say something, but remained silent as footsteps sounded just outside the door.

  Eddie turned and saw Mrs. Monahan in the doorway.

  “May I come in now?” she asked with a hard edge to her voice.

  Both Eddie and her daughter looked at her.

  “Yes, Mom,” said Phyllis, and pursed her lips.

  “I’ve got to go,” said Eddie. “Maybe next time I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

  He headed for the door, and paused briefly in front of Mrs. Monahan.

  “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Monahan,” he said, and walked out.

  11

  Eddie was at the hospital at twenty minutes of two the next afternoon in order to be the first one in to see Phyllis. He expected her mother to be one of the earlier visitors, and wondered what she’d say to him if she arrived after he did and saw him waiting in the lobby.

  As it turned out it was Phyllis’s cousin, Mingo, who showed up at five minutes of two. Eddie, sitting in the lobby, saw the tall, dark-haired youth come in and walk directly to the desk. His girl friend was with him. She turned briefly, looked directly at him, then turned back to Mingo.

  Eddie saw him speak to the receptionist, then saw her give him two cards.

  They started to head for the corridor, but then he saw the girl say something to Mingo, and saw them both glance back over their shoulders at him.

  The dark, annoyed burn in Mingo’s eyes was unmistakable.

  They turned away and walked on.

  How do you like that? Eddie thought, turning to glare at the receptionist. I thought visiting hours were strictly from two to four!

  Bull!

  He didn’t know whether to continue waiting or not, but decided he would. Maybe Mingo and his girl friend would not stay too long. If they left early, and Mrs. Monahan didn’t show up, he could spend a few minutes with Phyllis. Maybemaybemaybe.

  Mrs. Monahan came in at ten after two. She had hardly stepped into the lobby when she glanced toward the seats and saw him.

  “Hi, Mrs. Monahan,” he greeted her quietly.

  Her lips formed the word “Hello” before she turned away from him.

  She paused briefly at the desk, then went on through the corridor.

  Eddie looked at the gray-haired head of the receptionist. What kind of deal was this, anyway? he wondered.

  He got up and walked to the desk. The gray head lifted. Her nice, mature face smiled. “Yes? Oh, hello, there.”

  “Hi. I just saw three people go in to visit Miss Monahan. I thought that only”—a nervous feeling crept up and he had to swallow—“that only two people were allowed to see her at a time.”

  The smile broadened.

  “That’s right. But the third person was Mrs. Monahan, Miss Monahan’s mother. We don’t keep mothers or fathers waiting to see their children. Now, as soon as one or both of the others comes back—”

  “Okay. I’ll wait,” Eddie cut in, knowing what she was going to say. He started back to his seat.

  “Will you let me have your name, please?” she called to him. “As soon as a card’s available, I’ll call you.”

  “Eddie Rhodes,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  It was nearly two-thirty when Mingo and the girl returned from visiting Phyllis. They handed their cards back to the receptionist, then Mingo turned and focused his attention on Eddie. He left the girl and came forward, a cold, disturbed look on his face.

  “You here to see Phyl?”

  Eddie returned his gaze. “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Eddie started to answer when the receptionist called his name. He excused himself, got a card from her, then came back to Mingo. called his name. He excused himself, got a card from her, then came back to Mingo.

  “Because I want to help her get back into baseball,” he said bluntly. “I feel I owe her that much.”

  Mingo stared at him. “You mean you want to help her after what you did to her? I don’t believe it.”

  “I don’t care if you do or not. But it’s true. Excuse me.”

  He started toward the corridor, and Mingo grabbed his arm.

  “Rhodes, you’re in for a big, fat surprise.”

  Eddie searched the dark eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “She doesn’t want to play anymore. She’s through. Finished. Thanks to you, pal.”

  Eddie’s hopes took a plunge. “I don’t believe you.”

  Mingo’s eyes glittered. “You don’t have to. She’ll tell you that personally.”

  “See ya,” Eddie said.

  He turned and walked down the long corridor, feeling surprised and hurt by what Mingo had told him. He took the elevator to Phyllis’s room and found her sitting up in bed with her mother sitting on a chair close by her. They exchanged greetings, then Mrs. Monahan got up and stepped out of the room, saying she’d be back in ten minutes.

  “I suppose that means I should be out of here by the end of that time,” Eddie said softly to Phyllis, smiling.

  “Not necessarily.”

  She had one hand on her lap, the other combing her hair. “Been waiting long?”

  “Since twenty minutes of two.”

  She frowned. “Twenty minutes of two?”

  “Yeah. But that’s okay. I finally made it. Feeling better?”

  “Much better. I’d like to get out of here right now.”

  “What’s the rush? Aren’t they treating you right?”

  “Oh, sure. It’s not that. The nurses are great, except for the one who comes in early in the morning, wakes me up, and hands me a pill. It’s just that I can’t do anything. All I do is sleep, eat, and take pills. It’s driving me up a wall.”

  Eddie grinned. “How about baseball?”

  “What about it?”

  “Are you anxious to get started again?”

  He didn’t want to tell her what Mingo had said about her decision to quit. Not yet, anyway.

  She stopped combing her hair, laid the comb on top of the table, and looked at him.

  “Why? Why should you care?”

  “Why shouldn’t I care? It’s my fault you’re in here, isn’t it?”

  “You said it was an accident.”

  “Sure, it was. But it’s still my fault. So I fee
l I owe you one.’”

  “You owe me nothing.”

  He went to the window, wondering whether he’d be able to cope with her. He turned back to her. “I’ll help you play again, Phyl,” he said seriously.

  She met his eyes.

  “In a pig’s eye you will.”

  He stared at her. “You don’t want me to?”

  “Do you think that just because I’m a girl I can’t do it without your help? I worked myself up to playing on a boys’ team, and I think I did a good job at first base until you threw that clunker. I think I can make a comeback on my own” — she paused, looking away from him — “if I make a comeback at all.”

  Now it comes, he thought.

  “What do you mean ’if’?” he asked.

  She shrugged and studied her nails. “I’ve decided not to play anymore.”

  Eddie stood, slightly stunned. He thought he’d be prepared for it, but hearing it from her own lips affected him more than he had expected it would.

  He came away from the window, stood by the bed, and looked at her. She kept studying her nails; an excuse, he suspected, for her to keep from meeting his eyes.

  “You can’t quit, Phyl,” he told her.

  Her eyes popped up. “Oh, can’t I? Who said so? You?”

  “Yes. You’d be giving up. Not only that, but you’d be letting your mother and father down. They wanted you to play.”

  “Now you sound like a father. Or a shrink. Are you going to major in psychiatry when you go to college?” she asked smartly.

  He grinned. “Quit kidding, Phyl. Be serious.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I — I’m just afraid that I— I can’t face a pitcher anymore!”

  “Any pitcher? Or just me?”

  “I don’t know!”

  Their eyes met and held. Then she looked away, grabbed a tissue from the table, and wiped her eyes.

  “That’s the biggest reason why you can’t quit, Phyl,” Eddie said. “You’ve got to get back into baseball. Don’t you see? You’ve got to get over that feeling. And I want to help you. I mean it. I really want to help you.”

  Her eyes reddened.

  “I’ll— I’ll think about it,” she said.

  He smiled. “I hope you will. I’m going now. Your mother should be coming back soon, anyway.” He headed for the door. “Take care.”

  “I will. Thanks for coming, Eddie.”