Copyright
TEXT COPYRIGHT © 1985 BY MATTHEW F. CHRISTOPHER
ILLUSTRATIONS COPYRIGHT © 1985 BY LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED
IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL MEANS INCLUDING
INFORMATION STORAGE AND RETRIEVAL SYSTEMS WITHOUT
PERMISSION IN WRITING FROM THE PUBLISHER, EXCEPT BY A REVIEWER
WHO MAY QUOTE BRIEF PASSAGES IN A REVIEW.
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First eBook Edition: December 2009
ISBN: 978-0-316-09499-3
Contents
Copyright
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
How many of these Matt Christopher sports classics have you read?
to Erin, Shannon, Kelly, Pat, and Mike
ONE
FIRST IT WAS SHARI. Now it was Karen.
Who was going to be next?
Something very strange had happened to those girls, and Penny Farrell, captain of the Hawks softball team, wondered if anybody else was aware of it.
Shari Chung, the plump, dark-eyed catcher for the Hawks, had never hit a ball into deep left field before, yet moments ago she had knocked it some twenty feet over the fence. It was her third consecutive hit, including the two from the previous game against the Gray Wings.
Now, with the score 4 to 3 in the Owls’ favor, and the Hawks batting in the top of the second inning, Karen Keech had just lambasted a pitch out between left field and left center field for a stand-up double, scoring Gloria Johnson, the team’s right center fielder. The hit was Karen’s second one in the game — her first was a single — and the crowd was cheering her like crazy.
But what was so strange about it, besides the girls’ getting the hits, was their attitude. Shari had not seemed surprised or impressed at all by her long home run, and neither had Karen by her hits. They acted as if getting such hits was routine, no big deal.
There was something else, too. Something that Penny couldn’t quite put her finger on.
Pausing in the on-deck circle before going to the plate to bat, Penny turned and looked at the slender girl with the round face and large black eyes standing behind her. Maybe she would know.
“Kim Soo, what’s with Karen, anyway? Is she mad at somebody?”
Kim Soo Hong, her bright yellow uniform about a size too large for her, squinted at Penny from under the wide brim of her cap and shrugged.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Why?”
Penny looked across the infield at the tall, statuesque Karen standing with one foot on the second-base sack, the other on the reddish ground, and shrugged, too. “I’m not sure. But there’s something . . .”
“Get up there, Penny!” Coach Mike Parker’s voice floated to her from the third-base coaching box. “Bring her in!”
Penny glanced at him, caught his wide smile, and hurried toward the plate. In her haste she stubbed her toe and almost went sprawling on her face, but she quickly regained her balance and went on to the plate, her cheeks turning a brick red. Surely every soul in that crowd of some three hundred must have seen her stumble. Knowing the crowd was watching her made her wish she were taller for her twelve years and had wavy hair instead of that dark, straight mop that hung down the sides of her oval face. But she knew she had lovely hazel eyes and long lashes. You can’t have everything, she told herself.
Alice Higgins, the Owls’ left-handed pitcher, sailed one in underhand that missed the outside of the plate by inches.
“Ball!” boomed the umpire, standing tall behind the catcher with his cap reversed and his mask on.
Penny glanced across the diamond at Karen on second base, thinking that if Karen could do it, so could she. If her memory served her right, Karen’s two hits were the first she had gotten since she had rapped out two singles in their game against the Comets last Friday.
The pitch came in again.. Penny swung and drove a hot grounder down to short. The Owls shortstop caught it and snapped it to third to try to get Karen, who was running there as fast as she could. But the throw was wild, and Karen scored. Penny went on to second base.
Loud applause rose and echoed from the Hawks’ rooters sitting in the small grandstand behind the backstop screen and the bleachers behind third base. Penny smiled weakly and doffed her cap. After all, the hit — even though the Owls shortstop had erred on it — had knocked in a run, making the score 5 to 3 in the Hawks’ favor.
“Hit it out, Kim Soo!” Penny yelled at the girl following her at bat. “Blast it!”
Kim Soo didn’t waste any time. She cracked a single through short and Penny scooted to third, holding up there as she saw Coach Parker raising his hands high into the air. “Hold it, Penny! Hold it!” he shouted.
Penny looked at him as he stood tall and broad-shouldered, his straight blond hair sticking out from beneath his Atlanta Braves baseball cap like wheat stalks. He had once had a tryout with the Braves but wasn’t good enough to make the team. Wearing the cap, Penny figured, might help him remember those bygone days.
Sophie Kowalski walked, filling the bases. Now the chances really looked good for the Hawks to get their much needed insurance runs. But Jean Zacks struck out, ending the half-inning, and every Hawks’ fan in the place let out a disappointed groan.
Penny got her glove and ran out to her position near the third-base sack, shooting a glance at the girl playing next to her, Karen Keech.
“Nice hit, Karen,” Penny said, wondering what reply she would receive.
Karen glanced at her. “Thanks,” she said, and looked away. Smileless. Cheerless. Anybody else would have been thrilled about the hit and shown it. But not Karen.
Maybe she doesn’t feel well, Penny thought. I’ll have to ask Jonny.
Jonny was Karen’s tall, husky thirteen-year-old brother, who Penny wished would at least give some hint to show he was aware of her existence. Maybe asking him about Karen would break down the barrier between them.
Rose Ramirez led off the bottom of the second inning for the Owls with a long clout to center field. Kim Soo, playing left center, rushed over, got behind it, and made the catch easily.
Janet Potter, the Owls catcher, batted next and drove a sizzling grounder through the pitcher’s box. It looked to Penny as if it were going for a hit — until she saw Karen sprinting after it, trapping it in the pocket of her glove, and then whipping it to first base for the putout.
Penny stared at Karen as the Hawks’ fans gave the shortstop the loudest cheer she had ever received. In any game. I can’t believe it, Penny thought. Karen’s never played like that before in her life!
The ball was thrown around the infield, Penny catching it finally and tossing it to Mary Ann Dru, the pitcher. The Owls’ next batter cracked out a single over second base, and the next flied out to Melanie in right field, ending the half-inning.
Penny waited for Karen so she could run off the field with her, but Karen sprinted on by, totally ignoring her.
“Karen!” Penny called, the word spilling impulsively from her lips.
Karen slowed down, turned, and looked at her. “Yes?”
Penny ran up beside her, her eyes meeting Karen’s, holding on to them. Where was that smile? That cheerful look any player would show after making a terrific play?
“That was a f
antastic catch,” Penny said. She wanted to say more, but just couldn’t think of anything else.
“Thank you,” Karen said. Even then she didn’t smile, but turned away and continued on to the dugout.
Weird, Penny thought, as she found a space in the dugout and sat down, too. That’s the only way I can describe it. Weird, weird.
Mary Ann led off the top half of the third inning with a single between first and second, but died on first base as the next three batters flied out. Shari Chung’s long clout was close to going over the fence, but it was too high and not deep enough, giving the Owls right center fielder plenty of time to get under it.
Shari and Karen, Penny reflected. They both have been playing much, much better softball than they have ever played before. What had they been doing? Practicing at night? Penny doubted it. They didn’t practice any more than any of the other players.
Then what was it? What had made them so good?
The Owls went scoreless during their turn at bat. Then Gloria started off the top of the fourth with a single over first, bringing up the top of the batting order again, Karen.
“Sock it out, Karen!” a fan yelled from the stands behind the backstop screen, and Penny recognized Jonny’s voice. She smiled as she saw him sitting there among his buddies, cheering for his sister.
The first pitch came in, and Karen did sock it out. The ball sailed over the center-field fence for a whopping home run.
Penny hardly noticed the team leaping out of the dugout, pushing past her, and going to the plate to congratulate Karen. She was too stunned by the magnitude of that home run. Karen wasn’t a very strong girl. Where had she gotten all that power?
“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?” a low, drawling voice said beside her.
Penny turned and saw Harold Dempsey, the team’s scorekeeper, smiling at her.
“It sure is,” Penny answered, then snapped out of her confusion and went to offer Karen her congratulations, too.
TWO
KAREN’S TWO-RUN HOMER put the Hawks ahead of the Owls by three runs, 7 to 4. But the Owls rallied during their turn at bat and tied the score.
In spite of the Owls’ rally, however, Penny was sure that other members of the Hawks team, especially Coach Parker, must have noticed how well Shari and Karen were shining at bat and in the infield. Shari was catching Mary Ann’s pitches and returning them as if she’d been born behind the plate. And she had already knocked out a home run. Everyone could see that Karen was playing far above her normal ability, too. Those hits she had banged out were not accidental. They were solidly hit.
“If the rest of us played half as well as Shari and Karen, we should win this game. And, boy, do we need another win!” exclaimed Faye Marsh, swinging a bat in the on-deck circle.
Penny, standing at the side of the dugout, took her gaze away from the leadoff batter, Mary Ann, and looked at her red-haired friend. “The way Shari and Karen are playing, we might not have to play half as well,” she said soberly.
“Right,” Faye agreed. She stopped swinging her bat for a minute to rub her nose. “Remember the game against the Gray Wings? Shari got a homer and a couple of singles in that. Now she’s already got a homer in this game. Where did she get all that energy, anyway?”
“Good question,” answered Penny. “And she was hitting pretty lousy in the games before that, wasn’t she?”
“Lousy is right,” said Faye.
Penny sighed. “I don’t know,” she said, turning her attention back to Mary Ann. “She and Karen are doing something right, that’s for sure.”
The words had barely left her mouth, when Mary Ann swung at a high pitch and slammed it to shallow center field. Pauline Case ran in about a half a dozen steps, reached down, and caught it.
“Tough luck, Mary Ann,” Penny cried. “Okay, Faye. Get a hit.”
Faye did: a sharp double to deep left center field. Penny smiled, then watched as Melanie strode to the plate, carrying a bat across her right shoulder.
Short, blond, and just slightly chubby, Melanie stood in the batting box, took a called ball and a strike, then cracked a sharp grounder to deep short. The shortstop fielded it perfectly and winged it to first, but Melanie beat the throw by half a step.
“Way to go, Mel!” Penny yelled, leaping out of the dugout and clapping so hard her palms stung. It was Melanie’s first hit of the game.
Then Shari came up, and Penny sat down and watched her, wondering what Shari would do now. The plump, dark-haired Chinese girl leaned into the first pitch and drilled it into deep left center field. Two runs scored, and Shari stood on second base for a double. Penny stared at her, wondering if there was some kind of hex mixed up in this. She didn’t believe in that sort of thing, but there was something fishy going on with Shari and Karen. Of that she was sure.
Gloria smashed a hard grounder down to first base, which Josie Slade, the Owls first baseman, scooped up and dashed to first for the putout.
“Third! Third!” a cry rang out from the Owls dugout. But by the time Josie turned and brought her arm back to throw to third base, Shari was already there. Penny, standing in the dugout next to Harold, could hardly believe it.
“Did you see her run?” Penny exclaimed, her voice high-pitched with surprise. “Did you?”
“Like the wind. Right?”
Harold was smiling mysteriously at her.
“That’s right. Like the wind,” Penny echoed, and sat down, feeling as if she had made the run from second base to third herself.
“Two hits and a steal,” Harold said, reading the statistics from the scorebook he was holding. “Not bad, right?”
“No, not bad at all,” Penny agreed. “And please stop saying ‘right’ all the time. Okay?” she added curtly.
Harold grinned, showing teeth with wide gaps between them. “Okay,” he promised.
How and why he had become the team’s scorekeeper Penny couldn’t even guess, nor did she care. Having the same person keep score at every game was great, though, especially since he enjoyed it. Harold had been the team’s official scorekeeper since their third game. He was short for his eleven years, stocky, and had thick, curly black hair that covered the tops of his ears. His nose, stuck in the middle of his round face, looked as if he had bumped it into something solid and it had never returned to its original shape. His eyes were dark and curious, as if everything he looked at interested him. And a lot of it did. His hobby was fooling around with the computer that was given to him by his father, a computer-and-science teacher at the Tall Oaks Junior High School. Why Harold preferred to spend his time keeping score at softball games instead of playing with that computer was a mystery to Penny.
She saw Karen walking to the plate and dismissed the thought of Harold from her mind. Karen stood there, waving the bat in a small circle over her right shoulder as she watched the Owls pitcher with a cool, intense gaze.
“Pick up a bat and get up there, Penny,” Harold advised. “You’re up next.”
As if in a fog, Penny jumped out of the dugout, grabbed her favorite bat, and stepped into the on-deck circle. The first pitch to Karen was a high fast ball, and she let it go. The next was down by her knees and she swung at it.
The sound of bat connecting with ball was solid, and Penny held her breath as she saw the ball streaking out to deep center field as if it were shot out of a cannon. It’s going to be another homer, she thought.
But the hit was too shallow, and the Owls right center fielder caught it over her head for the third out.
“Almost but not quite,” Penny heard Harold say from the dugout.
Oh, please, shut up, will you? Penny wanted to shout at him as she dropped her bat and returned to the dugout for her glove. But “almost but not quite” was right, Penny thought. She was beginning to think Karen wasn’t human anymore. Breathing a sigh, Penny got her glove and ran out to her position at third.
The Owls picked up a run during their turn at bat and two more in the bottom of the sixth to go in
to the lead, 10 to 9. Penny had hoped that Shari, batting third in the top of the seventh inning with two outs, might spring again with a long clout that would tie up the game and give the Hawks another chance to win. But all Shari could do was crack out a single. Then Gloria grounded out, and the game went to the Owls.
“Shari, can I see you for a minute?” Penny called, running onto the infield to meet the girl as she came running in.
“Sorry. I have to get home,” Shari answered.
“But — ”
“Sorry,” Shari repeated, and hurried to the dugout to pick up her catcher’s mitt and mask.
THREE
PENNY LOOKED AROUND for Karen and saw her walking off the field with Jonny. He was looking at her and talking to her in that friendly, vibrant way of his. The sight of him made her forget even Karen for a moment. She knew she was too young to date, and Jonny was the first boy she had ever taken an interest in. The only trouble was, he hardly knew she existed.
Had he noticed the change in his sister? Penny wondered. How could he not have?
She heard footsteps behind her and turned around to see Shari rushing away from the dugout with her mitt.
“Shari! You okay?” Penny called to her.
“I’m fine!” Shari shot back over her shoulder.
Penny saw Harold and Coach Parker look up at her from the dugout, a curious look on their faces, and she quickly turned away, hoping they wouldn’t ask her what had made her say that.
Just then Faye ran up to her, and Penny felt relieved. She took Faye’s hand and propelled her away from the dugout and across the infield.
“Hey! What’s the hurry?” Faye exclaimed, pulling her cap down firmly over her thick red hair.
“Just wanted to get away from those two before they start asking me questions,” Penny answered. She bobbed her head toward Harold and Coach Parker.
“Questions? Why?”
They headed toward the left side of the backstop screen by the gate, Penny maintaining a rapid, one-step lead on Faye.
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