“And wouldn’t it be fun to move your bed in with all of the train things?”
“No!” His face scrunched up, and he put his hands on his hips. “I’m not moving to the office. I want to sleep in my baseball room.” He stomped off, hands still on his hips.
Mom didn’t call him back. She sighed and wiped the counters for a minute longer. “We’ll give him a little time to adjust to the idea.”
I figured he could adjust while I moved his things out, but I didn’t say so. I was being a model child.
Still, later that night as I as I lay in bed, I stared at the ceiling and wondered whether I’d be like my dad and have to share my room until I left home. Then I thought about my dad’s job, and ROs, and how much extra money my parents would need to buy a bigger house.
Were there really secrets to selling things, like Tony had said? Would they work on selling anything? And if so, could Tony’s dad teach them to my dad?
I didn’t imagine my dad would want to go over to the Manetti’s house for salesman lessons, but maybe Tony’s dad could tell me the secrets. Once I’d shown my dad how easy it was to sell things, he’d change his mind about being a salesman. Maybe he’d become really good at it. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore, and my parents would never again argue about the credit card bills, or where we went on vacation, or whether it was okay to buy juice boxes for our school lunches. Maybe someday we’d even own a BMW like the Manettis.
All I needed to do was learn the secrets.
* * *
The next day before I went to school, I searched through the filing cabinet where Dad kept his paperwork for his job. After a few minutes I found a brochure on Hendricks reverse osmosis systems. It didn’t look very interesting. Mostly it was stuff about filters and workmanship. Still, I shoved it in my backpack to study later. Before I finished shoving, I noticed the price for the system. Six hundred and ninety-nine dollars.
I almost gave up any idea of salesmanship right then.
Six hundred and ninety nine dollars? For something that just gave you water? Who’d buy that?
But I knew the answer. Tons of people. You only had to take one taste of the tap water to convince yourself you wanted to get your drinking water from somewhere else. So you could either buy a reverse osmosis system that filtered out whatever it was that caused the bad taste, or buy bottled water. You could even order water and have it brought to your door straight from—the TV advertising promised—some crystal clear and pristine spring which looked like the fountain of youth. Or you could do what my parents did: take water jugs to the grocery store and fill them up at 25 cents a gallon at the water machine.
Six hundred and ninety-nine dollars.
At 25 cents a gallon you could buy . . . I took a moment to do the math . . . 2,796 gallons of water for $699.
How long would it take for a reverse osmosis system to pay for itself?
I didn’t try to figure it out. It seemed too much like an algebra problem.
Dang. Mrs. Swenson had told us that we would use algebra in real life. Maybe she was right all along.
I swung my backpack onto my shoulder and headed for the front door. The price of the RO didn’t matter. After all, Tony’s dad sold houses. They were a lot more expensive than RO systems. If he could sell a house, he could tell me how to sell a water purifier.
After school, while Tony’s dad drove us to the ballpark, I decided to bring up the subject. Instead of goofing off in the back seat with Tony, I leaned toward the driver’s seat and said, “Coach Manetti, you’re good at selling houses, right?”
“I’d like to think so,” he said.
“What are the secrets?”
“The secrets?”
“Yeah, you know, the secrets to selling stuff.”
He shrugged. “Well, in general, I guess I’d have to say you get a good product and then show the buyer how the product will improve his life. And if the buyer doesn’t bite the first time around, you keep working on it until you find something he does want. You be persistent.”
I took the brochure out of my backpack and unfolded it. “So, if I were going to sell a reverse osmosis system to you, I’d have to tell you about its twelve-month warranty and how much better off you’d be drinking fresh, clean water straight from a Hendricks system.”
“Right,” Coach Manetti said.
“It has four filters which completely take out color, odor, and bad taste. It also takes out microorganisms. You wouldn’t want to drink those, would you?”
“I guess not,” he said.
I waited a moment. “So, do you want to buy a Hendricks RO from my dad?”
The coach glanced back at me for a moment. “You’re really trying to sell me one?”
“Sure. Is this the part where I get persistent?”
Coach Manetti shook his head and laughed. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Microorganisms could probably kill you,” I said.
Coach Manetti looked at me through the rear view mirror. “When did your dad start selling ROs?”
“He just started. Do you want to see a brochure? The RO costs six hundred and ninety-nine dollars, but it’ll pay for itself. Sometime.” I dropped the brochure on the seat beside him. “How long do I have to be persistent for? Hours? Days?”
He laughed again. “Okay, Okay. I guess I have been thinking about getting an RO. I’ll call your dad when I run out of my supply of bottled water.”
I leaned back into my seat and smiled. Not only did I now know the secrets, but I’d made a sale on my first attempt. It was easy. My dad would be so impressed. He’d be grateful. Maybe he’d even sell enough ROs he would get a promotion. A new house with a nice big empty room for me couldn’t be far away.
Tony rolled his eyes at me, and I knew he thought my salesman’s routine was stupid, but he could afford to think that. Tony had always had his own room.
We got to the baseball field and did our normal warm-ups. While we were waiting to bat, Tony and I sat next to each other on the bench. He stretched out his legs and leaned back as much as he could without falling off of the bench altogether.
“I talked to Rachel today.” He said this in a louder than normal voice, so I knew that part of the reason he was telling me was to impress the other guys on the bench.
“Oh? Were you funny, honest, attractive, loyal, and understanding?”
“Definitely.” He surveyed the field and nodded slightly. “I think she likes me. I told her I played ball and she ought to come and watch one of the games sometime.” Now he looked over at me with half a smile. “She said she’d bring Serena with her.”
I felt both dread and excitement. It was flattering to think Serena might come to one of the games. I liked the idea of her sitting in the bleachers rooting for me, watching me do something I did well. The next Monday at school she would look at me admiringly and say, “I never knew you were such an athlete, McKay. Suddenly I find you the most interesting boy in the eighth grade.”
But then there was the dread. What exactly had Tony said about me? I could just imagine his conversation with Rachel. “Yeah, McKay really likes Serena. Just today in algebra I was telling him he had to name their first born after me . . .” And of course, Rachel would immediately pass on any information she got from Tony to Serena, which meant that rather than face her every day, I would have to go live in a monastery in Tibet.
I lowered my voice so the other guys wouldn’t hear me. “What did you tell Rachel about me?”
Tony’s smile grew. He knew he had me gripped in suspense, and he liked it. “I didn’t say a whole lot to her about you, but I did tell her you thought Serena was cute.”
On one hand this wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Thinking someone was cute was not as bad as say, telling a girl you were already planning what to name your children. Still, it made me angry that Tony had talked to Rachel about me at all.
I stared at Tony. “Great.”
Tony looked surp
rised. “You think she’s cute, don’t you?”
“It’s as good as telling Serena I like her. I might as well walk around with an I Have a Crush on Serena sign on my shirt.”
“Well, don’t you want to know if she likes you? Rachel said she’d ask Serena what she thought of you.”
I put my hands over my face and groaned. I could almost feel my ego shrinking as we spoke. “No, I don’t want to know. I’ve only had two conversations with her and one of them was about the letter x. I know what she thinks of me. She thinks I’m strange. I wanted to have a few more conversations with her just to prove I’m a normal person before I even asked her to help me with my homework, and now Rachel is going to tell her that I like her. Double great.”
Tony got that don’t-be-a-baby-McKay look on his face again. “You need help with your homework right now. If she doesn’t like you, then we’ll have to find someone else in our math class who does.”
“No, we won’t, because I’ve decided to pay for a tutor.” After the last few days, an expensive, funny-smelling guy who spits seemed like good company. “And from now on, don’t tell anyone anything about me. I don’t need your help when it comes to girls.”
“You need somebody’s help. Unless you plan to run for the most-likely-to-wind-up-a-loser award.” He shook his head, then stood up to take his turn at bat.
Usually I loved baseball practice. Nothing made me happier than seeing the ball soar through the sky. It made me feel like I was soaring too. Today everything felt heavy. Tony and I didn’t say anything to each other for the rest of practice. I was so mad at him, every time I threw the ball to third I purposely aimed for his stomach. He always caught the ball, but he gave me dirty looks, like he knew what I was doing.
Isn’t that the way life goes? I hadn’t been in a fight with Tony since fifth grade when he wouldn’t believe that Baby Ruth candy bars weren’t named after Babe Ruth. We’d argued about who knew more about baseball and ended up not talking to each other for a week. Three years we’d gone without fighting, and now after less than a week of trying to impress girls we were mad at each other.
Girls just had a way of changing everything. That was a good enough reason not to get involved with them.
When I got home from practice, I took Kirk aside and sat down on the couch with him. “Kirk,” I said, putting my arm around him, “You’re in kindergarten this year. You’re getting to be a big guy, and as your older brother I have some words of wisdom for you. Someday one of the girls in your class will want to hold your hand. Take my advice. Just don’t do it.”
* * *
It wasn’t until I was getting ready for bed that I remembered to tell dad about my first sale. Then, with toothbrush in hand and wearing my pajamas, I went and found him in the family room. He was relaxing on the couch watching TV and eating potato chips.
I sat down on the couch by him. “Hey Dad, Coach Manetti says he’ll buy an RO from you.”
Dad popped a potato chip into his mouth. “Why would he do that?”
“Because I talked to him about it. He told me the secrets to sell things and then I turned around and used them on him.”
Dad chuckled. “And so now he’s buying an RO?”
“Yep.”
“That’s great. Next time see if he’ll buy a bridge or two.”
“No, I’m serious. Coach Manetti wants to buy an RO from you.”
Dad glanced over at me. “Did he give you any money?”
“Well, no.”
“Then I think the coach was pulling your leg.”
“No, he’s just waiting until he uses up his bottled water. Then he’s going to call you to buy one.”
Dad chuckled again. “It seems like he sold you a bill of goods and not the other way around.”
“He’s really going to call you,” I said, and walked out of the family room.
Dad ought to have realized I would have known if Coach Manetti was pulling my leg. The coach said he’d call my dad, and he would. I knew he would. After all, the Manettis had money. What was an RO system to them? He’d call, and then my Dad would see I was right. Maybe he’d even start listening to me when I told him something.
Chapter 5
The next day was Saturday, and we had a game against the East Mesa Firebrands. I wondered how Tony would act toward me. The truth was that while I didn’t want to fight with him anymore, I didn’t exactly want to apologize to him either. What would I say I was sorry for? I just wanted to forget yesterday ever happened.
When I got to the ball field, Tony walked over to me and nodded toward the bleachers. “Adam the Magnificent, Mr. Baseball himself, is here to watch us play.”
I looked up and saw Jenna with a tall blond guy.
“Jenna is paying me five dollars not to blow her cover,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk to them.”
I smiled back at Tony because he obviously wanted to forget yesterday too. “Should I ask her who her favorite shortstop is?”
He smirked. “She’d probably say Mark McGwire. Whenever she doesn’t know what to say she just talks about him.”
Coach Manetti called us over to do our warm-ups, and I didn’t think about Jenna and Adam again. We played a good game and won by four runs. While Tony and I were putting equipment in the back of the Manetti’s Silverado, Jenna and Adam sauntered up next to us. Adam patted Tony on the shoulder in this sort of patronizing way. “Hey, that was a nice scoop of the line drive—but you could have made the double play if you’d fired off to second instead of settling for the sure out.”
“Uh, right,” Tony said.
“And you could have shown a little more hustle too.”
Tony forced a smile. “I’ll try to keep that in mind for next time.”
Adam turned and looked at me. “Good hit in the second.”
Jenna nodded. “Yeah, the way you hit reminded me of Mark McGwire.”
“How about the way I batted?” Tony asked.
“You were more like Randy Johnson,” she said.
Jenna may not have realized Randy Johnson was a pitcher and a lousy batter, but Tony glared at her anyway. Adam, however laughed heartily and patted Tony on the shoulder again. “Oh, I wouldn’t say you were that bad.”
“Thanks,” Tony said. “Thanks a lot.”
“Of course that stance of yours could use some work,” Adam said.
Jenna nodded at Adam in agreement. “I tell him that all the time.”
“Hey Jenna,” Tony said slowly. “Who’s your favorite shortstop?”
Jenna smiled in a strained sort of way. “You are, of course.”
“I’m not a shortstop. I play third base.”
“True, but you’re still shorter than I am, and I’m always telling you to stop.”
Tony said, “Uh huh,” and I could tell he was deciding how badly he wanted that five dollars.
I guess Jenna could tell too because she reached over and took Adam’s hand. “Do you want to get something to eat now?”
“Sure,” he said, and then to us, “See you guys later.”
As they walked off, Jenna said, “Thanks for watching my little brother play and giving him advice. I know the kids really appreciate help from a pro.”
I elbowed Tony and whispered, “Oh yeah. We really appreciate help from a pro.”
“What an idiot,” Tony said back to me. “It’s hard to even feel sorry for him. I hope she’s so convincing that he wills his entire baseball card collection to her.”
I put the bat bag into the truck then turned and watched Jenna get into Adam’s car.
“Hey Tony, do you think a girl will ever pretend to like baseball to impress us?”
“We can always hope.”
“Naw, I wouldn’t like that. When I start dating, I’ll want to know what a girl is really like, not just what she’s pretending to be like.”
Tony just shrugged so I pressed the point. “I mean, how would you feel if you thought you knew a girl, and then found out everything
you thought about her was a lie?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “How cute is this girl we’re talking about?”
I tossed the bases into the truck and then shut the tailgate. “I don’t know why I even asked you. You’re the guy who’s going to fake being honest so girls will think he’s Mr. Right.”
“And it’s working too. I called Rachel last night, and she was completely interested when I told her about the Boy Scouts law.” He held up his fingers into the Boy Scout sign. “A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.”
“Of course,” I said. “Why didn’t I see it before? The whole purpose of Boy Scouts is to turn you into someone a girl would like.”
“On Monday I’m going to be funny and attractive.”
“Try being brilliant, fascinating, and humble while you’re at it.”
We walked away from the truck and toward the bleachers where a lot of the parents were still talking to each other. Tony grinned over at me. “Just watch, on Monday I’m going to be such a Mr. Right that pretty soon people will think there were three Wright brothers—Orville, Wilbur and Tony.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t try to leave the ground just yet.”
My parents had been talking with some of the other parents. Now they came over and asked if I was ready to go. I told Tony I’d see him later and walked with my parents to our car. All the way there I thought about Tony’s plans and wondered if they’d work. Maybe he’d fool everyone, just like Jenna was fooling Adam, and he’d become wildly popular. But no matter how I turned it around in my mind, I still didn’t like it. I knew I could never be all phony just to get a girl to like me.
* * *
On Sunday I told Kirk over and over again how neat his new room would be. It didn’t matter. Kirk refused to adjust. It didn’t matter that I’d bribed him with decorations of trains, dinosaurs, or his own baseball players. He wanted his closet, his window, and his posters, which unfortunately also happened to be my closet, my window, and my posters.
I guess I could have given in and volunteered to move, but it just seemed so unfair. After all, it had been my room first. I had picked out the baseball border that matched the curtains, which matched my bedspread. I had bought those posters of Cal Ripkin, Mark McGwire, and Sammy Sosa with my own money. And besides, the office was smaller. Since Kirk was a smaller person with smaller stuff, he should have the smaller room.
Playing the Field Page 4