by Tim Green
“No,” the coach said, then paused. “What do you want, LeBlanc?”
Josh did have something he wanted, but something about Coach Swanson’s face had him all muddled. It was like they were on two different wavelengths. “Coach?”
“Why are you here?” Coach Swanson asked. “You must have something in mind. Everyone talked about you going down to Florida with your dad. What an amazing opportunity, your dad the college coach? Travel teams in the area probably crawling over each other to get you signed up, but here you are, with me. So I’m curious. It can’t be trying to win a house.”
Josh opened his mouth. It wasn’t the reason he came back, but it was a good reason now. The real reason was embarrassing. “It’s just my family.”
“Hey.” Coach Swanson held his hands up as if he were surrendering a weapon. “I get that. Personal. None of my business. It’s all good, LeBlanc. I know lots of broken families. So . . .”
“I just wanted you to know that I’d be going for that thing,” Josh said. “The house. That’s all. Even if it’s hard. I’m gonna try.”
“Well, good. You do that. All set now?”
Josh wasn’t set. He wanted to ask for something, a favor that just might help him win the house.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
JOSH KEPT HIS MOUTH shut, thinking. If he asked now and got a no, it would be over. It just didn’t seem the right time or place to ask. He felt he had to trust his instincts. “Yes, I’m all set. Thanks, Coach.”
“Hey. Any time.”
Josh turned away, wondering why in the world he had thanked Coach Swanson. He hadn’t even gotten to say what he wanted, let alone get it from his new coach. Josh took off at a jog to catch up to his friends.
“What was that about?” Benji asked. “Secret handshakes or something?”
“I wanted to see if he had any tips about switch-hitting.” Josh could bat with either hand, and he knew any talk about switch-hitting impressed Benji enough to distract him from the real story.
“Yeah.” Benji gave a knowing nod. “I gotta ask him that myself.”
“Lido, you bat like James Bond from the other side of the plate,” Jaden said.
“Bond?” Benji raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, like 007. That’d be your average.”
“Funny, wisenheimer. Real funny.”
“Well, don’t sweat it, big guy,” Jaden said. “There aren’t many people who can switch-hit like Josh. He’s like Mark Teixeira, and how many of those guys are around?”
“I don’t need to hear about your Yankee Tex.” Benji held up a hand like he was stopping traffic. “It’s Big Papi or bust for me. There are no other hitters.”
“Here we go. . . .” Jaden rolled her eyes. They all knew Benji was a die-hard Red Sox fan.
When they were loaded into Benji’s mom’s car and under way, Josh looked back at the parking lot, where Martin was struggling to load the trunk of Coach Swanson’s car. “I feel bad for that kid.”
“No one deserves to be treated like that.” Benji sat hunched over in the front seat, still grumpy thinking about the coach.
Benji’s mom wrinkled her nose. “You smell like throw up.”
“For a reason, Mom,” Benji said, before turning to Josh and changing the subject back to Martin. “Don’t feel too bad. You said thanks for the paper, and he didn’t even give you a grunt. That’s no way to behave, not in my house anyway, right, Mom?”
Mrs. Lido gave a big nod worthy of a woman with a son like Benji. “Saying ‘you’re welcome’ is a must, Benji; you know that. I’ve always taught you.”
“See?” Benji swung around to make sure Jaden was paying attention before turning back to his mom. “Manners can take you farther than brains, right, Mom?”
“Oh, I always say that, and you know it, Benji. Look at your uncle Mert. Lucky to get a C on his school report card, but the boy had manners out the ying-yang, and he’s got a house in Hilton Head on the beach.” Mrs. Lido glanced in the rearview mirror at Josh. “On the beach.”
Jaden said nothing, but rolled her eyes and grinned at Josh as they rode on in silence.
At home, Josh’s mom had already put Laurel to bed and was sitting with a book in the TV room.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Good.” Josh sat and picked up the remote.
“Can we not have the noise, Josh?” his mom said. “It’s been a long day.”
“The Yankees are playing, Mom.” He gave her a wounded look.
“Fine.” She opened her book back up. “Keep the volume down.”
Josh put the set on. Laurel had been watching a DVD. He switched the input and got nothing. He switched it around again before he got up and wiggled the cable in the box below the TV. “Mom, the cable’s not working.”
She looked up from her book, closing it, and bit her lower lip. “Oh. Uh, well, it may be off.”
“Like someone hit the wire or something?” Josh asked.
“Well, Josh, honestly, I haven’t paid that bill in some time. I don’t really watch TV, and Laurel has her DVDs.”
Josh didn’t think before he spoke. “Yeah, but I gotta watch the Yankees. They’re playing the Tigers.”
Her spine went rigid. She pinched her lips and opened her book. “You ‘gotta watch the Yankees’? You play enough baseball. I don’t think you have to watch it too. I’ve had to make choices, Josh. Trust me; it hasn’t been fun.”
Josh felt a bit bad. “I get it, Mom. I know. I’m sorry. I’m just tired from practice. But you can turn it back on now, right? I mean, with me back, you’re going to get the money you need from Dad. You said everything would be fine, right?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
HIS MOM SLAPPED THE book shut. Her face was grim. “You coming back would have let us keep this house if I didn’t lose my job, Josh. I know you’re a kid, but I’m sorry—you’re going to have to grow up fast. I can’t be worried about cable TV. I’ve got to feed us. I’ve got to keep a roof over our heads. Honestly? If your father hadn’t already paid for fall ball, there is no way we’d be able to afford it. I would never have wasted money on something like that.”
“Wasted?” Josh felt his blood heating up. “I’m going to be a pro, Mom. It’s an investment.”
“Josh, please.” She waved a hand and looked out the window. “I’ve spent a lifetime watching that dream go nowhere with your father. Let’s not do it again with you, okay?”
It was like a switch got flipped in his brain. All the crazy, ugly, nasty stuff between his mom and dad turning him into a human yo-yo, and now this? His mom trashing his dream jolted Josh. He jumped up and raised his voice. “Yeah, well not only am I gonna make it to the pros and buy you a Mercedes, I’ve got a chance to fix everything right now, thanks to fall ball!”
“What are you even talking about?” She looked like she’d eaten a lemon.
“I’m talking about the Qwik-E-Builders derby. I’m gonna win us a house, Mom. No more banks, no more bills, no more problems.” Josh crossed his arms and nodded with pride.
She shook her head like he was crazy. “Josh, no one wins those things. They’re a gimmick.”
“That’s not true, Mom. Benji says the FTC watches people so they can’t just scam you like that.” Josh tried not to let his voice falter, even though he realized he’d just quoted Benji.
“Okay, maybe it’s possible to win, Josh,” she said, “but no one actually does. You’re talking about a house.”
“It’s a modular home company called Qwik-E-Builders.” Josh threw his hands up in the air. “It’s advertising for them. Coach says it’s to get people talking like we’re doing now, but I could win. I hit twenty home runs, I go to the derby in Houston. I get twenty pitches to win that thing, and if I dump one in this bathtub over the center-field fence, I win us a house.”
His mom sighed and shook her head.
“Mom, listen. Dad got me ready for this thing. I know you’re mad at him, but listen. How many of his pitches have I hit? Ten thousand?
Ten million?”
“Not ten million,” she said.
“Yeah, but you know what I mean. He taught me for the past six years how to hit a ball right, left, center, high, low, line drive. I’ve got the bat to do this.”
“Oh, Josh. Come here.” His mom reached out and pulled him to her. She pressed the side of her head against his stomach and hugged him tight. “You chase your dreams. Go ahead. But I’ve got to be practical. I called the bank. I can’t keep lying and hiding and hoping the worst won’t happen. I’ve got a place.”
Josh pushed away. “What do you mean, you’ve got a place?”
Her lower lip crept beneath her teeth.
“An apartment. The broker came by while you were at practice. I signed the lease, and we can start getting moved in right away. I thought it’d be good before school starts.”
“Apartment? Where?”
“On Woodrow Street.” He could tell it took effort for her not to drop her chin. “It has a new stove.”
“Mom, Woodrow?” Josh felt sick. “That’s . . . that’s borderline Bricktown.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
JOSH COULDN’T SLEEP.
Over and over in his mind he replayed the conversation with his mom.
“But I came back so you wouldn’t have to sell the house!” Josh said.
His mom nodded. “I know, honey. I didn’t expect to lose my job and not even get my last month’s paycheck. It was going to be tight as it was. Now it’s impossible.”
Josh clenched his teeth.
“Do you want to go back?” His mother spoke in the softest of whispers. “I’ll understand if you do. I won’t be mad.”
“Back to Florida?” Josh’s heart nearly stopped.
“Yes.” His mother hung her head and wrinkled her mouth as if in pain.
“No, Mom,” he said. “I’m not going back. I’m staying with you and Laurel and my friends. This is where I belong.”
At some point he did drop off to sleep, but the next day he was a zombie. His mom started packing things and didn’t ask him to help. He felt guilty but couldn’t stay. He had work to do. He gathered up Benji and Jaden on their bikes, and they rode out to the batting cages in North Syracuse.
Benji hit a few, but Josh was there for serious work. He swung until his arms were tired, blasting balls into the net with regularity.
Even Benji was impressed. “Heavy hitter.”
Jaden nodded in agreement from her perch on the picnic table outside the cage where she’d been pecking away at her iPad, working on ideas for her Young Journalist Award submission. She was now torn between concussions and a new development in Tommy John surgery. “That was really great hitting, but I’m hungry just from watching you. Let’s go have lunch.”
“How about the mall?” Benji suggested.
They rode their bikes and sat in the food court. Jaden had some French fries while Benji knocked down two double cheeseburgers with a big shake. Even though the batting session had gone well, Josh just didn’t have an appetite until he smelled their food. He went for a Whopper and wolfed it down.
“Good man,” Benji said. “Us heavy hitters gotta keep our strength up.”
They played hangman on Jaden’s iPad, and Jaden tried to pick up Josh’s spirits. “I know what I said, Josh, but if anyone could win that house, it’s you. In the meantime, Woodrow Street isn’t so bad. Besides, you know a girl at school who lives there. She’s great. Shari Ann Harbaugh, you know her?”
“Yeah.” Josh said, looking at the game. “But I heard her brother got beaten up by some gang called the Skulls.”
“I said it when we were riding our bikes.” Benji spoke through a mouthful of his chocolate shake. “You can’t be afraid of Bricktown, or the Skulls, either. They put their pants on same as the rest of us.”
“Things happen all over the city. You know that.” Jaden entered a “T” for Josh in the hangman game, and the right arm of the stick figure appeared. Josh was dangerously close to being hung, only a hand away.
“My point is, that place is like a war zone. My dad would never go for something like that. Down in Florida, he got us this place with a pool and flower beds everywhere. He wasn’t gonna put me in something like Bricktown.”
“If you need protection, I’ll come walk you to the bus stop when school starts.” Benji snickered.
“That’s not funny,” Jaden grumbled to Benji, then turned to Josh. “Your mom doesn’t have much of a choice, does she?”
“I have no idea,” Josh said, looking at the game. “How about a ‘B’?”
“Sorry.” She entered the “B”; the hand appeared, hanging Josh’s stick figure, turning his eyes to Xs and ending the game.
“That’s about right.” Josh looked sadly at the iPad. “What was it?”
“‘Armadillo,’” Jaden said.
“Yeah, that was gonna be my next guess,” Benji said.
“Right,” Josh said. “Let’s go.”
They rode home, and Josh got changed for baseball. Benji’s mom picked them up, the same as the night before. Jaden asked them if they remembered their information sheets.
“No. What are you, the Gestapo?” Benji asked, making his first WW II reference of the day.
“Just trying to help,” she said.
“I got mine,” Josh said. “Thanks.”
When they arrived at the field, Josh picked the new kid out right away. He was atop the mound, throwing to Coach Swanson. It was all heat. The boy, Jack Sheridan, had everyone staring, even as they handed their information sheets to Martin. Josh glanced at Esch, who seemed unaffected, even though he must have known that his spot as top dog on the mound wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.
“That’s your brother?” Josh handed Martin his sheet and glanced toward the mound. The two of them looked nothing alike.
Martin took a glance at his brother. “Yeah, he looks like our dad.”
Jack Sheridan had tan skin and brown hair cut close. He wore a look of angry concentration. Josh had the strangest feeling that he’d seen the kid before, but he had no idea where. He racked his brain but came up with nothing. Everyone watched the show, and Coach Swanson wasted the first ten minutes of their practice, ignoring everyone else so he could work with Sheridan.
Benji leaned close to Josh. “Kid’s an animal. You believe that’s Martin’s brother?”
Josh shrugged.
Finally, Coach Swanson came up out of his crouch and blew his whistle.
“Guys, this is Jack Sheridan. Say hello.”
Josh and everyone else murmured halfhearted greetings.
“Hey,” said Jack Sheridan, looking around without much concern for the cool greeting. He wasn’t as tall as Josh, but Sheridan had thick shoulders and a confident air. With his head tilted slightly back, he gave the impression of being the biggest kid among them. And as Josh looked at him, he wondered if he was older than thirteen. But before he could say anything to Benji or Jaden, Coach continued.
“Okay. Martin?” Coach Swanson looked around.
Martin made his way up to the group. “Sir?”
“You get everyone’s text and email information?”
“Everyone but Lido, Coach.”
“Lido?” Coach Swanson’s face clouded over. “Why is that, Lido?”
“Oh yeah. Heck, Coach. I . . . well, my mom had all these jobs for me to do, and I kind of forgot.”
“Jobs?”
“Yeah.” Benji broke out in a sweat. “She’s tough, my mom. Not as tough as my dad, but he’s the top offensive lineman for the Syracuse—”
“Jobs that you worked on straight through the night? What jobs?” Coach wasn’t going to let Benji off easy.
“Well . . . I had to feed the dog. Um . . . cut the grass and paint. I had to paint the garage. Yeah, that took forever, Coach.”
“So, if I drive over to your house after practice to talk with your mom about how you didn’t get your information in and ask her if you painted the garage the whole time you w
ere home in the past twenty-two hours, she’s gonna tell me that’s true?” Coach Swanson glowered.
“I . . . uh. Well, I guess I could have gotten it done, Coach.”
“Right. Okay, Lido. Start running.”
“Coach?” Benji’s face fell.
“Start running. Around this field, outside the fence. I’ll tell you when you can stop.” Coach Swanson tooted his whistle and pointed to the opening in the fence beside the dugout. “Go.”
Benji glanced at Josh with a hopeful look. Josh just shook his head.
They began by warming up their arms and legs—Josh wasn’t alone in being sore all over from the previous day’s work—and the team moaned and groaned. Benji continued his slow slog around the field, even as practice wore on. When they worked on hitting, Gary Lockhart ended at bats with a weak grounder to second. Then Josh stepped up to the left side of the plate and banged every other pitch the rightie Esch threw him out of the park. Halfway through, he switched over to the right side and blasted them just as hard and often.
“Your bat looks darn good from both sides, LeBlanc.” Coach Swanson almost sounded impressed. “Maybe you’ll win that house yet.”
Jack Sheridan was up after Josh, and when he handed him the bat, Sheridan muttered his thanks and stepped up to the plate. Josh got into position near second base and watched with surprise as Sheridan proceeded to hit every bit as well as Josh, even if it was only from one side of the plate. That was about the only bragging right Josh had left. Otherwise, Jack Sheridan was just as good a baseball player as Josh, if not better.
Meanwhile, Benji continued to jog. Halfway through practice, he stopped behind the backstop and gripped the fence like a caged animal. “Coach? Did you forget me?”
“No, Lido.” Coach Swanson looked up from his clipboard. “I like you right where you are. My bet is that next time you’ll get your information in when you’re supposed to without any problem at all. It’s not fun to run the entire time, is it?”
“I gotta do this the whole practice?” Benji groaned. “Coach, come on. Have a heart. I’m one of your heavy hitters.”
“I don’t have a heart, Lido. I just want to win. Get your overloaded can moving. Now!”
