by Tim Green
“That’s no joke.” Daniel nodded in agreement, tagging along like a pilot fish. “Last night was the bomb.”
Jalen stopped short. “You know what my dad said to me last night? And he doesn’t even know about the construction company. He said we’ve got each other, and that’s all we need. Well, for me to be me, I have to play baseball. That’s who I am. I don’t care what anyone says. I say, and I’m not screwing that up for anything or anyone. Maybe I can do my genius thing for someone else, I don’t know.”
“Someone else?” Cat wrinkled her face. “After everything James Yager has done for you?”
Jalen grabbed the tight curly hair on his head. “This whole thing is a mess. Tweets and fires and GMs and contracts. I just want to play baseball, Cat.”
He could see Cat didn’t understand. She was looking at him like a bug she’d found floating in her drink, and it enraged Jalen.
“He’s got a game to get ready for,” she hissed. “How’s he supposed to convince your coach to let you miss practice?”
“I don’t know.” Jalen turned to his locker and spun the dial. “He’s James Yager. He’ll figure it out.”
“You can’t dump this on him, Jalen.” She grabbed him and spun him around.
“I’m dumping it on you.” Jalen scowled. “You dump it on him.”
“Why shouldn’t you do it?” She narrowed her eyes in a mean way.
A small voice inside him told him to patiently explain to her that he didn’t have a phone to text Yager with, but that should have been so obvious that it infuriated Jalen.
“Because he’s not my future stepfather,” Jalen blurted.
Cat flinched as if he’d snapped her with a belt. Her eyes filled.
Jalen felt his stomach climb into his throat. “I didn’t mean that. Cat, I’m sorry.” He reached for her arm, but he was too late.
Cat was gone.
61
DANIEL LOOKED AT JALEN SADLY.
“What?” Jalen demanded.
“You’re acting like a real bad batch of hot sauce.” Daniel turned to his locker and spun the combination. “Extra hot.”
“What is ‘hot sauce’ anyway?” Jalen scowled. “Is it a curse word?”
“Hot sauce can be really good or really bad, amigo.” Daniel slammed his locker shut. “And I bet you’re smart enough to know this is the kind that keeps you running to the bathroom.”
Jalen let him go, and when he walked into homeroom, he made sure he didn’t even look Daniel’s way.
The day wore on and Jalen paid little attention to his schoolwork. He took nearly a dozen more selfies with people in the halls, but his smiles were forced. He took no pleasure in his dash of fame. The one time he ran into Chris Gamble, his new teammate snorted. “Hey, it’s the Calamari Kid!”
People around him laughed, and the name seemed to catch on. Jalen tried to ignore it.
At lunch he sat down by himself, but Daniel found him and sat without speaking. Jalen tried hard to ignore the sight of Cat sitting with Chris Gamble and Dirk Benning and their gang, but it made it difficult for him to eat.
Finally Daniel spoke. “Famous or not, you know, you gotta apologize.”
“I’m sorry,” Jalen said sharply.
“Not to me, and not like that.”
Jalen sighed. “I am sorry, Daniel. You know I’m not famous. I feel like I’m losing my mind. You understand about being a baseball player, right?”
“Bro, we always said we’d play in the big leagues together. I know what you mean.”
“And I can’t not play this summer, right? If I miss a whole summer on the big field, I’ll never catch up, right?”
Daniel crumpled the wrappings of his lunch into his brown bag. “Ninety feet seems like forever.”
“And the Rockets are the only show in town,” Jalen said.
“For anyone chasing the big show, it is.” Daniel nodded.
“So I can’t miss tonight,” Jalen said. “Maybe Yager will go four-for-four without me? He won’t have to face Holton. That’s one good thing.”
“Maybe he’ll convince Coach Gamble to let you go,” Daniel said.
“How’s he gonna do that?”
Daniel shrugged. “He’s James Yager.”
62
AFTER THE LAST PERIOD, JALEN was stuffing books in his locker when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He was surprised to see Cat. She looked prettier than ever. Her blue eyes were on fire and a flush painted her cheeks.
She held out her iPhone. “It’s on. We’ll pick you up at the same time in front of the diner.”
Jalen squinted at the phone. “What’s that?”
“A text chain between me and JY,” she said. “You need to see it?”
“Coach Gamble’s okay? I’m not gonna lose my spot?” Jalen scowled. “That’s hard to believe.”
“So call him yourself.” Cat held out the phone.
Emotions flooded Jalen. He tried to keep his hand from shaking as he took the phone from her. He blinked and brought Coach Gamble’s number up in his mind, dialed it, and waited.
“Hello?” The coach sounded his usual grumpy self.
“Coach? It’s Jalen DeLuca. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay with me missing practice tonight.”
“I said I was, didn’t I?” Coach Gamble sounded annoyed. “I don’t say what I don’t mean. Bus leaves at six a.m. Saturday for the tournament. Don’t be late for that. You miss that, you’re gone. Anything else?”
“No, Coach.”
“Good, because I got a day job here.” The coach hung up abruptly.
Jalen handed the phone back and whispered, “Thank you, Cat.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” Her voice was too cold for her words.
Jalen looked into her empty eyes and practically choked. “Well, I mean . . . you know I feel the same way about you.”
Cat’s eyes matched her voice. “I’m not talking about you, Jalen. I’m talking about James Yager. I did it because he’s my friend. By the way, James gave Coach Gamble a check from his foundation for your four-hundred-ninety-dollar fee. In case you were worried about him keeping his word.”
Cat turned and walked away, speaking as she went. “Pick you up at five.”
63
TREES EXPLODED WITH FRESH GREEN buds, and the brilliant spring sunshine bathed the clapboard-and-brick homes of Rockton. Jalen said good-bye to Daniel when the bus stopped at his corner in the center of town.
“I wish you were coming tonight.” Jalen bumped Daniel’s fist.
“Yeah, but I’m not the baseball genius,” Daniel said. “Just do your thing, and then I can be there tomorrow night for the final chapter in the salvation of James Yager. That’ll be something.”
“If it happens.”
“Why wouldn’t it? You gotta think positive,” Daniel said.
In Jalen’s mind were banks and fires, construction workers, reporters, and the Yankees GM, but he only said, “Yeah, you’re right.”
He got off the bus and headed for home. When he turned the corner by the train station, he got a surprise.
64
THE SILVER LINER PARKING LOT overflowed with trucks, and the diner itself boiled with men in yellow hard hats. A crane had taken up a position in the back, and Jalen watched in amazement as it lowered an enormous stove into a hole in the roof. A huge tractor trailer hissed and groaned, easing out of the lot and across the tracks. The truck spewed thick diesel smoke as it passed Jalen, hauling a container filled with charred debris.
The sounds of power tools, generators, and pounding hammers filled the air with a delightful symphony of work.
Just in front of the steps to the diner, Jalen’s father stood looking over some plans with the shorter construction guy Jalen had seen that morning. A yellow hard hat covered his bald head, but his cheeks were aglow.
“Jalen!” His father hugged him tight, then let him go and pointed. “Look! Look! I cannot believe all this. Joe here, he’s a miracle worker. Can you belie
ve?”
“No.” Jalen shook his head. “It’s amazing.”
“And all because of Mr. Yager.” Jalen’s dad beamed. “Jalen, he called this morning, and you know what he said?”
“No.”
“He asked me if can I make nonna’s calamari. He wanted it for luck, and I made it at home, and he came by. You just missed him!” Jalen’s dad hugged him again. “He gonna tweet about the calamari tonight and he gonna tweet tomorrow night, and then on the Saturday, we gonna have a party and celebrate him and the Yankees, and the Silver Liner, she’s gonna be open again!”
His father began to laugh, and Joe couldn’t help a smile breaking out below his mustache.
Suddenly his father stopped, and his eyebrows met. “Jalen, what’s the matter? You look like you ate a bad fish.”
Jalen shook his head. It was too much to explain. He was happy, but it was buried under so much other stuff that he felt as though he were being smothered.
“You gotta rest is what.” His father spoke softly. “Come on. I take-a you home. You get a nap, then I feed you, then you go make-a the miracles. Joe, I be right back.”
“I got it, Fabio.” Joe rolled the plans into a tube and tapped the side of his head. “You take your time.”
Jalen let his father put an arm around him and guide him down the gravel path toward home. His father was right. Jalen was exhausted, and it took an effort just to lift his legs. They got home, and he lay down on his bed.
“I take-a you shoes off.” His father spoke quietly, reaching for Jalen’s feet. “You close-a the eyes.”
Jalen did, and he took deep breaths as his shoes came off. Even the steady, muted sound of construction wasn’t enough to keep him from dozing off.
65
JALEN WOKE WITH A START. His eyes popped open and he looked around his room, figuring out where he was and what was happening. He had just one clear moment before an avalanche of thoughts and emotions tumbled through his brain. He felt heavy still, but rested, and the smells of red sauce and calamari filled his nose.
“Dad?”
“Jalen! You sleep a good sleep, and now I got the calamari for you.” His father’s voice floated in from the kitchen. “Come eat!”
Jalen washed his hands and sat down at the table.
His dad set a plate of steaming food in front of him with a fork, knife, and napkin. “I make it for Mr. Yager, but I save some for you and me.”
“Nice, Dad. Thanks.” Jalen dug in, and the food along with his nap raised his spirits. The steady sound of construction helped as well.
His father sat with a plate of his own, and they ate in silence. After they’d cleaned up, Jalen changed into a Yankees T-shirt, and they walked to the diner.
“He’s like an angel, Mr. Yager, no?” his father said as the busy diner came into view.
“He is.” Jalen thought about how close he’d come to ruining everything for his own selfish reasons. He swept the guilt aside, though, because everything was going perfectly. It was as if the whole thing had been written down before and they were simply following the script.
Jalen’s dad gave him a hug and a kiss before putting on his hard hat and disappearing into the diner. Jalen wormed his way through the trucks, heading for the station, where it would be easier for Cat’s mom to pick him up. He found an empty bench where he could see the street and took it.
Rays of sunlight splashed against the buildings and signs in town. A breeze swished through the trees, sweeping clean the sound of hammers and saws. It was dreamlike, just sitting there by himself in the warm sun with everything going his way.
The Range Rover turned the corner with the glare on its windshield winking.
Jalen took a deep breath and couldn’t help smiling. He felt even his tiff with Cat was something that was meant to fade away with ease, and despite their quarrel, he opened the back door with a confident smile of having the dream come true.
The face staring at him from the backseat was the stuff of nightmares.
66
CHRIS GAMBLE’S FACE SEEMED TO glisten with sweat beneath the Yankees cap he wore at an angle. His eyes widened with pleasure at the sight of Jalen’s dismay, and he snorted a laugh.
“Hey, it’s the Calamari Kid!” Chris said. “Happy birthday!”
Jalen looked into the front seat, because he couldn’t believe this was really happening. Cat’s mom looked back at Jalen with something that might have been pity, but Cat sat staring straight ahead without comment.
“You know Chris, right, Jalen?” Cat’s mom asked.
“What’s happy birthday?” Jalen asked Chris.
“I hate to brag, but you must feel like you got a present or something, getting to miss practice and go to the Yankees game with a future Hall of Famer.” Chris stuck a fat thumb into his own chest. Jalen winced at the smell of his breath. It smelled like onions and dog food from a can.
“Then don’t,” Jalen said flatly.
“Don’t what?” Chris asked.
“Brag.” Jalen put his seat belt on and turned toward the window.
Chris chuckled softly to himself and uttered what might have been “mutt” under his breath. Jalen could only guess what had gone wrong, because Cat didn’t seem to be talking to him, and he couldn’t just blurt out, What the heck is this jerk doing here? to Cat’s mom.
It wasn’t hard to figure out, either. When Yager talked to Coach Gamble, he must have either offered to bring Chris as part of the deal, or Chris’s dad squeezed it out of him in exchange for allowing Jalen to miss practice. Normally you wouldn’t think of anyone squeezing anything out of James Yager, but Coach Gamble was far from normal.
“He couldn’t have offered World Series tickets or something? A signed bat? His Cy Young trophy? Anything but this,” Jalen grumbled to himself.
Jalen felt a huff of air against his cheek. The smell made him want to gag.
Chris was blowing his bad breath directly at Jalen and grinning at Jalen’s discomfort. He was as disgusting as he was big and ugly. Jalen was angrier at Cat than he was at Chris. She should have known better. Even if Cat was mad, she had to know having Chris with them would not only be a distraction to Jalen while he was doing his thing, but it could be dangerous. If Chris noticed something going on between Jalen and Yager, they could count on him not keeping it a secret.
Well, Jalen told himself, cracking the window for some fresh air, that was Yager’s problem. All Jalen had to do was call the pitches.
By the time they got to the stadium, Jalen was in a better frame of mind. The atmosphere was like a carnival, with people milling outside the stadium, most of them wearing Yankees gear and soaking up the warm spring evening. Chris slouched along beside Cat, his hulking figure cutting a natural path through the crowd. Jalen tucked in behind Cat’s mom, staying far from Cat and trying his best to ignore her as hard as she was ignoring him.
This time they went through security, got their tickets, and rode the elevator to the VIP Club with no problem. Jalen looked for Mr. Moses, who he’d spoken to the night before, but saw no sign of him. He kept quiet as they moved through the club toward the seats.
“Hey, how about we eat some of this grub?” Chris pulled up short in front of a roast turkey carving station. “Looks like it’s free.”
Cat’s mom consulted her watch. “Uh, yes. We can.”
“If it’s okay, I’ll just go to the seats,” Jalen said.
Cat’s mom hesitated, but then agreed that would be fine. Jalen left them, happy to be by himself and marveling at how quickly things had changed. Last night he and Cat and Daniel were on an adventure together, like the three musketeers. Tonight it was all about business, and the bitterness in the air stung Jalen’s feelings. Still, the night was warm and the players’ uniforms glowed beneath the lights. The grass looked freshly cut, and the dirt was lined to perfection.
Jalen found their seats and took the last one, closest to the Yankees dugout. He watched Yager warming up with his teammates and gave h
im a small wave when the second baseman looked his way. Yager tilted his head and shrugged, probably because he didn’t expect Jalen to be alone.
The Yankees soon finished their warm-ups, and the White Sox took the field. Quintana had the mound, and Jalen put his sunglasses on and studied him carefully, eager to get a feel for things before Chris showed up. He shut his eyes briefly, and the numbers for the pitcher lit up his brain. All there, the improved ERA, the uptick in his changeup, the mile an hour he’d added to his fastball velocity, cutter, and curve. Jalen smiled to himself and opened his eyes only to realize someone had come and sat down next to him, and it wasn’t Cat, her mom, or Chris.
67
JEFFREY FOXX DIDN’T LOOK AT Jalen, but he put an arm around the back of Jalen’s seat like an old friend. He wore a dark-navy pinstripe suit with a blue bow tie, and Jalen felt the tension coming off him like the heat off a hot bun. Foxx was chewing gum that left a hint of cinnamon in the air, but his mouth moved almost without effort.
“Saw you on the news last night.” The GM let the words hang out there.
Jalen didn’t know how to reply, but the longer the silence grew, the more he felt like he had to speak. He was thankful for the sunglasses to hide behind.
“Yeah,” he said. “It was a nice win.”
Foxx nodded slowly. “Reminded me of the James Yager I met when I took this club over five years ago.”
Silence again until Jalen finally broke it. “He had a good night.”
Now the GM looked directly at Jalen with an impish smile. “Well, he had that lucky calamari, right?”
Jalen shrugged. “Yeah, you know how players are. Superstitious.”
“I do know.” Foxx folded his arms across his chest now, wrinkling his suit as well as his face. “In fact, that’s why I’m good at this management thing. In a world of lucky rabbits’ feet, chicken dinners, backward rally caps, and now—apparently—calamari, I’m still all about numbers. That’s why they use the G word when they talk about me—genius. Most people don’t get numbers past two plus two, but me? I can see numbers in my mind like big billboards of graphs and formulas and endless statistics.”