by Tim Green
“He can’t scare us.” Daniel raised a defiant chin.
“He scared me, to be honest,” Jalen said.
“Yeah, but he’s not going to scare you off, right?”
“I guess not.”
“No, he’s not.” Daniel shook his head. “Hey, the Yankees started at 1:05, right? What’s the score? How’s JY doing?”
Jalen forgot that he could now check these things on his new phone. He fished it out of his pocket and went to his ESPN app. “He’s 0-for-3 right now, but the Yankees are winning 4–1.”
“Nice.” Daniel slapped him a high five. “Too bad Cat’s not here. I swear, it’s so weird. Her stepfather barely knows she’s alive, the girl gets no spending money at all, but he makes her ride to and from school with a driver.”
“It’s not a tough problem for her to have,” Jalen said.
“It’s silly is all. Like she’s gonna catch something from us.”
“Well,” Jalen said, “you know Cat doesn’t think that way.”
At Jalen’s stop in the center of town, Daniel said, “Pick you up at five thirty.”
Later that afternoon, when they rolled into the parking lot beside the baseball field, Jalen thanked Daniel’s mom, then turned to assess his team. Nothing looked unusual. A handful of players were already there tossing baseballs back and forth. Others were arriving in their own cars. The two coaches stood by home plate, talking.
When Coach Gamble called them in, the team knelt in a two-row semicircle, ready for their instructions for afternoon practice.
The coach pointed at Jalen and Daniel. “You two—run around the field until I tell you to stop.”
“Why?” Daniel demanded.
“Why?” Coach Gamble wrinkled his forehead in disbelief. “Because I said so, that’s why.”
“You can’t just punish us for no reason.” Daniel raised his chin and remained on his knee like the other players around him.
“You want a reason?” Coach Gamble glared.
“Yes.”
“Think about it,” the coach snarled. “Think about a reason I might need to punish you two clowns. How about not knowing how to be a good teammate? Does that ring a bell in your thick skull?”
“How many laps?” Daniel asked.
Jalen wanted to tell him to just stop talking, to get up and get going and get it over with, but Daniel had fire burning in his eyes.
“I said you’ll run until I tell you to stop!”
“Are Chris and Dirk and Caleb running with us?” Daniel asked, apparently unmoved by his coach’s rage. “Because if you are handing out punishments for people who aren’t good teammates, then you have to remember the beanballs and trashing the sandwiches someone’s dad made too.”
“You don’t seem to understand, Bellone.” Coach Gamble clenched his teeth. “I’m the coach here. I call the shots. Now you can either start running until you puke or you can march right off this field, because if you say another smart-mouthed word to me, if you do anything but start running, you’re finished with the Rockets.”
No one made a sound.
All eyes were on Daniel.
Daniel stood up and dusted the dirt off his knees. “Then I guess I’m finished.”
He spun around and walked away from the team.
Everyone now turned to Jalen, who was frozen in place, thinking about everything he’d done to be a part of this travel team, the time, the effort, and the money it had cost.
How could he give that up?
38
DANIEL STOPPED HALFWAY TO THE dugout and called, “Jalen, you coming?”
“You bet!” Jalen shouted, standing and moving toward his friend. With every step after the first, he felt lighter and lighter. He remembered that the Bronxville Bandits were out there, and he began to smile. By the time he reached Daniel, he was practically floating. They slapped a high five and laughed together as they gathered up their gear.
The Rockets began their practice as if nothing had happened. The shrill spurts of Coach Gamble’s whistle seemed silly and small as Jalen zipped up his bag, and he wondered how he ever could have let that sound or Coach Gamble’s growling face upset him. They shouldered their bags and left by the back of the dugout. When they hit the parking lot, Jalen skipped a few steps and spun around, walking backward.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” he said.
Daniel grinned, marching along. “That was absolute hot sauce—making us run? But they can’t take your dignity unless you surrender it. Someone famous said something like that, I think. I don’t know, maybe I made it up.”
As they slogged back toward the center of town, they chattered on about the looks on everyone’s faces and how bad the Rockets were going to be without them.
“Wait till they see us this weekend in our Bronxville uniforms!” Daniel laughed. “I can’t wait for that.”
“Wait, what?” Jalen said. The thought of Bronxville had been in his mind as well. The instant before he walked, he recalled Coach Allen’s plea for him to join the team. He hadn’t wanted to before, because it felt wrong to leave Daniel to fend for himself with the Rockets. But when Daniel pulled the plug on his own, it seemed to Jalen that he’d be free to join the Bandits without being disloyal. Of course, he still wanted Daniel to join too. He hoped Daniel could join, and Jalen would do anything in his power to see it happen. Yet at the same, he now felt free to play for Coach Allen whether Daniel was with him or not.
“Yeah, Bronxville.” Daniel narrowed his eyes and looked ahead before glancing at Jalen. “I know you said the coach wasn’t all that excited about having us on the Bandits, but that’s all we’ve got now, so we’ll have to make the best of it.”
“Uh, I don’t know if he will take us.”
Daniel stopped in his tracks. “Wait, you said he wasn’t as excited about it as you thought he’d be. You never said he might not take you. Or take us.”
“We never really talked about it,” Jalen said.
“Talked about it? I thought we were set.” Daniel’s face sank.
Jalen swallowed and looked back in the direction of the park. “You mean, you did that because you thought we could just join Bronxville?”
“Join them and whip these idiots in the Boston tournament. Yes.” Daniel suddenly wore a look of panic. “I was thinking we had a place to go! What are we going to do all summer? Catch frogs?”
Daniel began to pace back and forth on the sidewalk. He grabbed the thick dark hair sticking out on either side of his cap and pulled with both hands until his cap tumbled to the ground. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
Jalen felt guilty. He knew how Daniel felt, because he wouldn’t have walked away either if the likelihood of playing for Bronxville hadn’t been a possibility his mind.
He put a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Okay, don’t go nuts on me.”
“Nuts?” Daniel had a wild look in his eyes. “I’m not going nuts. I’m going to go whacked-out, loony-bin, out-of-my-mind crazy if I can’t get on that team. And what about our money? My parents paid a thousand dollars for me to be on the Rockets. I didn’t even think about the money.”
Daniel plunked down right there in the grass beside the sidewalk and put his face into his hands. A man cutting his lawn across the street paused to look at them for a moment before continuing his work.
Jalen sat down beside Daniel and gently grabbed him by the back of the neck. “Hey, come on, it’s gonna be okay.”
“It is? How can you say that?” Daniel looked up with wide eyes. “Do you have a plan? Tell me you do.”
“Okay,” said Jalen. “I have a plan.”
39
CAT MET THEM AT THE gates of Mount Tipton.
Daniel had used Jalen’s phone to let his parents know that they didn’t need a ride home from practice. “Cat’s picking us up,” he’d said, explaining to Jalen that it was sort of true. They left their gear bags in the bushes and headed next door to JY’s mansion—an enormous home built on its own hill and surr
ounded by its own gates and wall, but nowhere near as big as Cat’s place. The gates were open and they marched up the driveway, past the bronze fountain and its angels struggling for a trumpet that sprayed a geyser of water, and right up to the front door.
Cat rang the bell and JY’s two Rottweilers, Butch and Missy, went bananas inside.
“Doesn’t he know we’re coming?” Daniel’s eyes got wide at the sound of the dogs.
“I told him.” Cat pointed at the Ferrari parked in the circle. “And he’s back.”
“Maybe he just forgot his dogs want to eat my leg,” Daniel said.
The dogs continued to bark.
Cat took out her phone and sent a text. They stood staring at one another. Cat checked her phone.
Daniel said, “I wonder if Guinness World Records has a page for the longest a dog ever barked without stopping.”
Cat’s phone dinged and she read the text. “He’s out back. At the cage. Come on.”
They tramped around the house, following a brick path that took them to some steps and down past the pool area. The white light from the batting cage was brighter than the twilight. The whir of the pitching machine was interrupted every few seconds by the thunk of a pitch and the crack of the bat on the ball. Deep inside the heavy web of netting, the bat flashed with each stroke. JY was going at it with the steady rhythm of a farm machine.
Cat burst right through the slit in the netting. “Hey.”
JY rested his bat, letting it hang from one hand without turning off the machine. He looked awful. His eyes were red and sagging, and he needed a shave.
“Hey.” He wore a baggy pair of sweatpants and a ragged T-shirt that crept to the edges of his lean biceps. “So, Foxx is having a field day with this. He won’t even return my agent’s calls. It’s like he knows I’m melting down.”
He took a deep breath and let it out as if waiting for Cat to speak.
“So, we’re here,” she said.
JY nodded and addressed Jalen. “Can you make it to the game tomorrow night?”
Jalen swallowed a lump in his throat. “That depends.”
“Of course it does.” JY’s hair looked matted from a nap on the plane ride home, and his shiny white smile bloomed like a lie in the middle of his tired face. “I have to strike a deal with your agent here, I know that, but let’s say I do, can you be there?”
“I don’t care about the money,” Jalen said.
“I do.” Cat slapped his arm to be quiet. “I’m handling that. We agreed.”
“I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow night is all,” Jalen said.
JY pointed the bat at Jalen. “Because aliens might abduct you? What are you talking about?”
“Let’s talk dollars.” Cat turned to Jalen. “Will you please let me do my job?”
“Okay,” Jalen said.
“Great.” JY spun around, stepped on the pedal that released a pitch, and drilled it into the netting before turning back. “Now we’ll cut a deal that might not even happen. Okay, let’s get this over with. You’re at five thousand, and I’m at five hundred. Let’s make a deal.”
“My last offer was nine thousand five hundred,” Cat said. “I never said five. You said five.”
JY turned and blasted another pitch before answering. “That was halfway between my five hundred and your ten thousand. I was trying to save time, as I’d like to do now so I can hit three dozen more balls and then get some sleep.”
“Are you offering five thousand?” Cat raised an eyebrow.
JY gritted his teeth. “Yes. I am.”
“Now, here’s where I would normally say to make it seventy-five hundred and we’ve got a deal.”
Jalen winced at the smoking-mad look on JY’s face, but Cat seemed unfazed. “But I’m not saying that because we’re all friends, right?”
“I thought so,” said JY.
“Yes, we are,” Cat said, “and that’s why we can work with your number if you’re willing to help us out a bit with some other things?”
“More tweets?” JY raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, but something else, too.” Cat held up her hands. “Nothing terribly difficult, just a light lift for you.”
“Okay, well, you need to tell me what,” JY said. Before Cat could reply, Jalen said, “Help with the Bronxville Bandits.”
40
“IT’S NOT THAT BIG OF a deal,” Jalen said after explaining what he wanted JY to do.
“Oh, no?” JY turned and whacked a few more pitches as he spoke. “You just said the Bandits only had one spot. How do I fix that? Am I supposed to take out some kid’s knees with this bat?”
Daniel looked horrified, and he muttered, “Hot sauce.”
“You’re James Yager,” Cat interrupted. “The rules don’t apply.”
JY laughed.
“They don’t,” Cat insisted. “Look how you got the Silver Liner fixed up in four days. No one else could do that, but you did. What are you known for in baseball?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Batting a thousand, I guess.”
“Before all this,” Cat said.
“Double play, I guess.”
“That’s right,” Cat said, “the double play. That time Jeter fed you some mustard and you caught it with your bare hand so you could chuck it to first on that double play against the Red Sox. That’s you. You get two outs when the normal person—even the normal MLB player—gets just one.”
“Okay, so let’s say I buy what you’re selling,” JY said. “I try to get the coach to take you guys, but he’s not as impressed with me as you are. Do we still have a deal for five thousand a game?”
“You gotta try your hardest,” Jalen said.
“And if I do, and it still doesn’t work, I want to know if we have a deal.”
“Yes,” Jalen said. “Of course.”
“Good.” JY turned and hit another pitch. “ ’Cause I’d like to get some help tomorrow night.”
“Would you mind if I just asked you for one more thing?” The deal was going so well that Jalen had to give his other idea a try. “Please?”
“Seriously?” JY scowled at Cat like it was her fault. She shrugged.
“I want you to tell people what I can do,” Jalen said. “I’d like people to know.”
“Why?” JY asked. “Why do you need people to know? ’Cause I gotta tell you, that could be a deal breaker for me.”
41
JALEN LOOKED AT HIS FRIENDS.
Even though they knew his secret, he felt funny saying it aloud in front of them and JY at the same time.
He clenched his hands. “I want to find my mom.”
“Your mom?” JY blinked and rubbed the scruff on his chin. “What’s that got to do with telling everyone you’re a baseball genius?”
“If she sees me on TV or something, reads about me, maybe she’ll come back.” Jalen felt entirely stupid. “I don’t mean come back, like, to live with us, but I could at least meet her. See her. If she knew I was kind of famous—and I’m pretty sure that’s what would happen if people knew what I was doing—then I think I’d have a chance.”
“Do you know where she is?” JY asked. “Any idea at all?”
Jalen looked at his shoes. “No.”
“But you know her name, right?” JY asked.
“Yes. Elizabeth Johnson.”
“Good.” JY tapped his bat on the concrete to get Jalen’s attention. “Look, your mom’s not gonna care if you’re famous. That’s not what’s going on—I’m not sure what is going on, but you being famous isn’t the answer.”
“Then what is?” Cat asked, and Jalen felt grateful to her.
“You find her,” JY said. “She probably feels bad after all these years. She’s probably waiting for you to reach out to her, and you don’t need to be famous for that either.”
“Then how?” Jalen asked.
“Private detective.” JY pointed the barrel of his bat at Jalen. “You hire someone good with all that money I’ll be paying y
ou. He tracks her down and lets her know you’d like to see her. I bet she’ll be thrilled.”
“I thought about a private detective, but I can’t afford one. And why do you think she’d be thrilled?” The question escaped Jalen without thought.
“Because . . .” JY gave him a funny look. “Don’t you know? You’re . . . you’re a great kid, Jalen. You’re special. Anyone would be proud to have you as their son.”
Jalen felt the blush on his cheeks, and he looked down again.
“The only question is how much you’re willing to spend,” JY said. “It might be an easy thing for a good detective to do, or it could take time and cost thousands. You never know.”
“I’d spend it all,” Jalen said. “Everything except what it costs us to join the Bandits.”
“I don’t know if I can take money from you like that, Jalen,” Daniel said.
“You’re part of this, Daniel. You’ve helped me all along the way, and you deserve it.”
“That’s if Coach Allen even lets us join,” Daniel said.
Cat spoke up. “When James Yager asks, James Yager receives.”
“I’ll try,” JY said. “So long as we go the detective route instead of the famous route. That okay with you, Jalen?”
“It’s a deal.” Jalen held out a hand, and JY shook it.
42
A QUICK CHECK OF HIS Facebook page showed that by day Coach Allen was an accountant at a private firm in White Plains. Nights and weekends, he was the Bandits’ head coach. JY told Jalen that the right way to get what they wanted was to meet in person, over lunch.
“If this is going to work,” JY said the next morning before calling Coach Allen’s cell phone, “we’re going to have to turn your coach into our friend.”
“Why?” Jalen asked.
“Because he’s going to need to work with us. You may have to miss some practices here and there to help me out, and I want him to be on board. If he’s our friend, we won’t have to worry. He’ll be part of the team, so to speak.”