Dave Babar wasn't that good a pitcher, but he was good enough. He got our side out in the bottom of the second.
Moondance settled down in the third and struck out the three guys he faced.
In our side of the third we went down just as easily.
Zip¡
Moondance's first pitch was right over the plate. Evans missed it but it didn't mean too much because nobody was on base. The next pitch got hit on the fly to Joey DeLea. Joey caught it and there was one out. The next batter bunted to me. I picked it up and threw it to Mike at first base. The ball bounced in front of Mike, then he kicked it back over toward Moondance and the runner was safe.
The runner took off on the first pitch and Evans threw the ball into center field. The runner came around second base and slid into third.
“We're going to kill you guys,” he said as he dusted himself off.
“You're going to get killed!” I said.
“Not by you, you little punk!” He bumped into me on purpose. “Rocky beat you and your brother up. We're thinking about beating the crap out of your whole team!”
“Look alive, T.J.!” Maria called out to me.
“Hey, what's TJ. stand for?” a kid from the Eagles yelled. “Turkey Juice?”
The next ball was a line drive right to me. It hit my glove and then my chest, and then knocked my cap off.
“First¡ First!”
I heard Jennifer's voice from the bench. I went after the ball, got it near the pitcher's mound, and threw it to first. Out¡ But the runner had scored. It was 2 to 0.
Mop, Brian, and Mike struck out in the bottom of the fourth. The top of the fifth inning came and their first batter, a skinny kid named Benny, hit the ball really hard. The ball went all the way to the fence and Benny, who was kind of slow, ended up on second base. Moondance looked over at me. He looked miserable. Maria called time out and motioned for Mop to come in from the outfield.
Mop came trotting in and Mr. Treaster started talking to the guy in the suit again.
“Look, Mop,” Maria knelt down. “You're the best catcher we've got. We can't let them score any more runs.”
“Then how come you stuck me in the outfield?” Mop asked.
“Because I'm not sure if this character in the suit is right or not,” Maria said. “And I just don't want to do anything wrong with you.”
“Yeah, but don't you want to win the game?” Mop asked. “Don't you?”
“I want to win so bad I could spit!” Maria said.
“So spit while I get my catching stuff on.”
“There's a problem,” Maria said. “If this guy is really from the Children's Welfare Association and he's right about girls catching when it's too hot, he might give me trouble … later on.”
“Hey, Maria, you're on my side, ain't you?” Mop said. “Don't we make a cool team and everything?”
“Hey, c'mon!” Treaster shouted across the field. “Let's get this show on the road!”
“Mop.” Maria put her hands on Mop's shoulders. “We make a very cool team.”
“So fight for me,” Mop said, strapping on the shin guards. “I'm worth it.”
The guy in the suit came over to Maria and asked if she was going to let Mop catch again.
“Not only am I going to let her catch,” Maria said, “but if you don't get off the field I'm going to break your kneecaps!”
The guy puffed up and turned a little red. Then he whipped out a notebook, wrote something down in it, and stormed off to the Eagles’ side of the field.
Evans went back to first base and Frank went to the outfield.
Zip¡ Whack¡
Zip¡ Whack¡
Zip¡ Whack¡
Moondance struck out three batters in a row.
We were still down 2 to 0. Evans started off the last of the fifth by popping up. I was up next and I hit the first pitch over the left-field fence. It was my best hit ever in my entire life. It was just a little foul, though. That was the first strike. The second ball I hit a hard smash down the left-field line. That was a little foul too. The next pitch looked a little too low.
“Strike threeeee¡ You're out!”
I was sure that umpire couldn't see too good. That ball had to be low by at least six inches, or maybe three.
Joey hit a ball straight up in the air. He thought it was going to be foul. So did I. It wasn't and their catcher threw him out.
Moondance got their first two batters in the top of the sixth. Then their next batter walked. Then Rocky got up. Mop went out to talk to Moondance, and me and Evans went over to see what they were talking about.
“Stay close to that guy on first base so he don't steal,” Mop told Evans.
“Don't tell me how to play first base,” Evans came back.
“Okay, break it up,” the umpire said.
Rocky hit a hard foul ball right past the third-base coach.
“Straighten it out, Rocky!” Mr. Treaster was clapping his hands.
The next pitch was way outside, but Mop got it quickly and threw it to Evans. The runner went sliding back into the base.
“You're out!” The umpire jerked his hand in the air. It was almost as if the umpire had a string in his hand that was tied to Mr. Treaster, because just as the umpire's hand went up Mr. Treaster jumped into the air.
“You gotta be kidding¡ You gotta be kidding!” Mr. Treaster turned red. “He was safe by a mile!”
“He's out!” the umpire repeated.
Mop had picked him off¡
Bottom of the sixth. We were still losing by two runs. Mr. Treaster calmed down a little and started telling his players that all they needed was three more outs.
“Just three more turkeys to shoot down,” he said.
“C'mon guys.” Maria was clapping her hands together. “Let's do it!”
“You can do it!” Taisha was shaking my arm. “You can do it!”
The crowd on their side of the field was making a ton of noise and then the crowd on our side of the field started making a ton of noise and you couldn't even hear yourself think.
Frank got up first and hit a ball that stayed right at home plate. Frank ran while their catcher picked it up and threw it to first. It hit Frank instead and rolled away. Frank started to cry, the way he always did when something went wrong, and said he wanted to go home, but Maria told him to go stay on first because she needed him in the outfield in case we tied the game up.
Mop had two strikes and then hit a slow ground ball to the shortstop. The guy came running in, grabbed the ball with one hand, and threw it to Rocky at first base. The shortstop made a great play, but Rocky dropped the ball and Mop was safe¡
Brian hit his first ball right over their second baseman's head. It went into the outfield and all the way to the fence. Frank scored and Mop stayed at third. Brian was on second and the score was 2 to 1.
Mike struck out. Then he threw his helmet down, which automatically put him out of the game.
Chrissie was up next. Maria called her over and talked to her. The Eagles brought their infield in. On the first pitch Chrissie swung and missed by a mile.
“Come on, Chrissie,” Maria called to her. “You can hit, I know you can!”
The Eagles moved their infield back a little on the next pitch. Chrissie bunted the ball to Rocky at first base. He fielded the ball, looked at Mop going home, and decided to tag first base instead. Mop scored and the game was tied¡
Brian had moved to third base.
Mr. Treaster called time out. He went out and talked to the pitcher. I could see him pointing toward first base and then toward Brian at third.
“What's he telling him?” Jennifer asked Maria.
“Probably not to give Moondance anything too good to swing at,” Maria said. “They can afford to walk a batter, but they can't let Brian score or we win the game and the play-offs.”
Maria was right. Moondance was up and he walked on four straight pitches.
Evans couldn't find his batting helmet and t
he game was held up while he looked for it. Mr. Treaster told the umpire that Evans should be out if he didn't come to bat, but the umpire didn't say anything. Then, after Evans still couldn't find his helmet, the umpire told the pitcher to pitch to an empty plate. The pitcher started winding up just when Evans saw that Jennifer was sitting on his helmet.
“Strike one!” the umpire called.
“Come on, Evans,” Maria yelled “Get up!”
“Jennifer was trying to hatch my helmet!” Evans gave Jennifer a dirty look.
He stepped into the batter's box, then looked over at Jennifer again.
“Strike two!”
“Pay attention, Evans!” Maria yelled.
“She caused them strikes!” Evans yelled back.
The next pitch was over Evans's head, but he swung anyway and hit a ground ball to the Eagles’ third baseman. He grabbed it on one bounce and made a diving leap to tag Brian, who was off the bag. Brian jumped over the tag and made it back to third base. Evans made it to first base.
“The bases are loaded!” Jennifer screamed. “Who's up?”
“T.J.!”
“Let's go, T.J.!” Our whole bench was chanting. “Let's go!”
I didn't want to get up.
“He can't hit!” Rocky called out from first base. “He's a big nothing!”
As soon as I stepped into the batter's box the pitcher wound up and threw the ball. It came right at me and I jumped back out of the way.
“Strike one!” the umpire called.
“Come on, T.J.,” Mop was screaming. “Kill it!”
The next pitch came and I moved just a little because it was inside.
“Strike two!”
“One more¡ One more!” Mr. Treaster yelled out to the pitcher. “This kid's afraid of the ball.”
“Stay in there, T.J.!” Maria called out. “You can do it!”
Mr. Treaster was right. I was afraid of the ball hitting me. I gripped the bat as tight as I could and stared at the pitcher. He wound up and pitched the ball. I didn't want to move away from the ball. I didn't want to close my eyes either, but I did.
Phoop¡ Right in the back. That's where the ball hit me. Maria came running over and the umpire grabbed me.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I said. My back hurt where the ball hit me, but I said I was okay anyway.
“You're on first!” The umpire pointed to me.
“We win¡ We win!”
Jennifer was screaming. The Elks were jumping up and down. I went to first base and Brian came in to score. We had won the play-offs¡
e our trophies on that Wednesday night. It was the first trophy I had ever won. There was a little statue of a guy on top and on the bottom, on a brass plate, it read Elks, Lincoln Park League Champions. Brian got two trophies. One was the same as we all got and the other was Most Valuable Player. Dad said that if they had a trophy for most improved player, I would have gotten it. I didn't think that was true, though. I mean, I was pretty good to begin with, so how could I improve that much?
It didn't change me just because I became a champion. No one on the team changed except Mop. She changed something terrible.
She used to be the toughest girl I ever knew. If you went up to her and said something she didn't like, she might take a swing at you. Pow¡ Just like that¡ After we won the championship, she changed completely. Or maybe it was after the Academy signed the papers and she went home with Maria and Jim. She was adopted at last. Or maybe it was when she found out how much Maria really liked her.
‘I thought Mom was scouting me to see how good I could play,” Mop said. We were in Maria's house, Mop's house too, now, and watching television until Maria got ready to go with us to the Academy.
“You gonna tell us the same thing again?” Moondance asked.
“I just thought it was far out that she was coaching because she was scared she couldn't get along with me,” Mop said. “And all the time I couldn't even talk to her because I thought I couldn't get along with her.”
“You already said that three times,” Moondance said.
“Well, don't you think we're just alike?”
“Nope.” I pushed the button on the remote control and watched as the Bionic Six disappeared and the Transformers showed up on the screen.
“That's ‘cause you can't see nothing!” Mop said. “We're just alike.”
“Did you see Treaster when Maria took the team trophy?” I asked. “I thought he was going to break his face trying to get a smile going.”
“Yeah, and you see that smile Mom gave him back?” Mop asked.
“You like saying those words, like Mom and Dad, “ I said. “You're always saying them.”
“I got that from you, Bright Eyes,” Mop said with a big grin.
Mop's new parents were ready and we left. My folks were going to meet us at the Academy. I knew I wouldn't get to talk too much to Mop that evening. That's how she's changed. Ever since she's been adopted she acts different. When Maria comes around—when Mop's mom comes around—Mop just wants to hold her hand and stuff like that. I can't even imagine Mop doing that in the old days at the Academy.
The reason we were all going to the Academy was that it was Sister Marianne's last day. The Sisters of Charity were transferring her to another position and Sister Carmelita was giving her a farewell party. Father Magnus was there, Brian, Chrissie, me, Mop, and Moondance from the Elks and some of the other nuns and also some of the parents who had adopted kids. Sister Carmelita had invited Peaches too.
“We're not here to honor Sister Marianne,” Sister Carmelita said. “All of her good works over the years are her honors, and all the happy children we see before us are her awards.”
Everybody clapped and some of the people stood up. Then Sister Marianne spoke.
“Leaving any place one loves is a little sad,” she said. “But I really have mixed feelings about leaving the Academy. I'm pleased that it will stay open as a day care center, but I'm not sure if I like being replaced by a llama. As you know, the archdiocese has decided that we can keep Taffy as a companion for the children.”
“And the mayor promised to provide support for her,” Father Magnus added.
“Probably trying to line up the llama vote,” Sister Marianne said. “I'm also glad that I was here long enough to see the stained-glass window replaced. It was broken seven years ago, a week before I came here, and I've been trying to get money to fix it all these years.”
“I was in high school when it broke,” Sister Carmelita said.
“That's when she was really a pitcher,” Dad said.
“I'd like to see you pitch sometime.” Brian's whole mouth was covered with chocolate crumbs.
“I'm afraid not,” Sister Carmelita said.
“How come?” Moondance asked. “Mop's glove and ball and things are still here.”
“Sister Carmelita has dedicated herself to higher things,” Sister Marianne said. “There's a chance that one day she'll be in complete charge of the Academy. She'll be doing work just a wee bit more associated with His will and she'll have to keep her mind there.”
“She gonna do a fine job, too.” Peaches looked good in a suit and bow tie.
“Lastly, I have a word for our Little Leaguers.” Sister Marianne looked over at us. “Even though I'm not a lover of baseball, I would like to congratulate you young people and you, Mrs. Kennedy, on your victory.”
“Thank you,” Maria said.
“T J. got the winning hit in the last game,” Brian said. “Only the ball hit him instead of him hitting the ball!”
“You'd be surprised what you have to do to be a champion sometimes,” Maria said.
“The whole parish was proud that some of our Academy children were on the Elks,” Sister Marianne said. “Did you see the write-up the parish paper gave the team?”
“Is it in the parish paper?” Sister Carmelita stood up. “I'll get it.”
“I have it in my office,” Sister Marianne said. “I
can get it. I'm not that old yet.”
“We were in the Journal, too,” Brian said as Sister Marianne started for the paper. “They've got a picture of Moondance striking out somebody.”
“Were you really a great pitcher?” Moondance asked.
“Would you like to see how I pitch?” Sister Carmelita glanced over her shoulder at the door Sister Marianne had gone through.
“Sure,” I said.
“Yeah.” Moondance wiped at his face with his sleeve.
“Mop, get the glove.”
Mop went, grabbed her glove, tossed a ball to Sister Carmelita, and crouched down.
“Go on, Titi.” Dad hit his palm with his fist. “Throw one in there for old times’ sake.”
Sister Carmelita leaned forward and Mop gave her the signal for a fastball. Sister Carmelita rocked back, turned, and threw the ball.
It was really fast¡ And really high¡
The stained-glass pane didn't actually break, it just cracked where the ball hit it.
“I'm out of here!” Brian grabbed for his coat.
“You sit down, Brian!” Mop said, throwing her glove on top of a small closet.
Everybody sat back down and tried to look innocent. Only Brian was laughing when Sister Marianne came back into the room.
“Here's the write-up—” she said, then she looked at all of us sitting so still and squinched her face up. “This looks like quite an important conversation, is it something you can share with me?”
“Sister Carmelita was just convincing us of the need for the community to join together in meeting the church's needs,” Dad said.
“Sister Carmelita was doing this?” Sister Marianne looked at Sister Carmelita and smiled. “Well, they say the Lord works in mysterious ways—”
“His wonders to perform,” Mop said.
Dad and some other people helped Sister Carmelita get the windowpane replaced. But things didn't really get back to normal until Mop met Rocky in the A&P and Rocky called her a freckle-faced monkey. Mop told me that if the guy who fixes the vegetables hadn't stopped her, she would have torn Rocky's head right off his shoulders. She probably would have, too.
Anyway, I'm glad she's back to normal. We've got one more year on the Elks, and good catchers are hard to find.
Me, Mop, and the Moondance Kid Page 11