by Tim Green
Foxx reached over, raised the sunglasses, and locked eyes with Jalen. “I don’t expect you to understand, but do you have any idea what the odds are of James Yager going four-for-four three games in a row?”
Jalen knew the odds exactly—3,547,062 to 1—based on a sample group of statistics from last season in his brain, but all he did was shrug.
“It can’t happen.” The GM shook his head. “Not in the world of numbers. It’s odds, and you can’t beat odds. They always win out. Look at Las Vegas. Just odds. But they’ve stripped people of enough money to build a jeweled city in the desert.
“Anyway.” Foxx let Jalen’s glasses drop into place, then slapped Jalen’s knee gently before standing up. “I got my eye on you. Why? Because there’s something going on. . . . I have no idea what, but there’s no such thing as coincidence. I won’t even mention lucky calamari.”
With a wink, the GM slipped over the wall and disappeared into the dugout.
68
CAT’S MOM APPEARED, WITH CAT and Chris behind her. “Who was that, Jalen?”
“Just Jeffrey Foxx. He’s the GM,” Jalen said. “I met him when I came to the stadium the other day.”
Cat’s mom sat down next to Jalen. Cat sat as far from Jalen as she could, with Chris between her and her mom. Jalen tried to ignore that and focus on the field. He had a job to do, and it made him nervous to know Foxx might be watching. He so wanted to ask Cat what she thought, but with Cat’s mom and Chris between them, she might have been a million miles away.
CC Sabathia had the mound for the Yankees, but he started out slow, letting two batters on before ending the top of the first. As Yager passed Jalen on his way into the dugout, he gave him a grin, showing no signs of knowing anything about the GM. Jalen couldn’t smile back, even though he tried.
Jalen watched Quintana climb the mound. He had the baby face of a boy, but he looked big enough to be a linebacker, and his pitching was nasty. Jalen thought about Holton and Quintana, excellent pitchers surrounded by a team that struggled to score runs. Jalen knew you had to be at the right place at the right time, in sports and in life, too. On the Yankees, the two of them might be superstars. That made him think of his own team, and he looked over at Chris. He was having a laugh with Cat.
“Right time and place for him,” Jalen muttered under his breath.
“What’s that, Jalen?” Cat’s mom asked.
“Where do you think the GM watches the game from?”
“Probably up there.” She pointed across the stadium at the upper tier. “That’s where the owner’s box is. I imagine the GM is either there or somewhere close.”
“How . . . how do you know?” Jalen couldn’t help asking as Ellsbury approached the plate to start the Yankees off.
“Oh, my husband.” She waved her hand to show she wasn’t impressed. “We came one night for a fund-raiser.”
“In the owner’s box?” Jalen asked.
“Yes. The governor was there too,” she said with a yawn. “And the mayor. Anyway, that’s where it is.”
Jalen glanced up where she was pointing and the glint of something like a mirror caught his eye, but the crowd came to life at the sight of Ellsbury. Jalen had a job to do. He focused on Quintana.
The pitcher was red hot. He sat the first three Yankee batters, and the White Sox charged their dugout, slapping Quintana high fives. During the measly eleven throws it took to end the inning, Jalen hadn’t been able to predict a single pitch.
The second inning began with CC giving up a single but striking out one batter before Yager snagged a wicked line drive, leaping, catching it, and delivering a rocket to first base, surprising the runner as well as the crowd. Yager tipped his hat on the way to the dugout. Jalen felt a flicker of joy, but the muddle of not being able to read the pitcher weighed him down.
In the bottom of the second, Tegan Tollerson got things going with a double on the second pitch. Hutt struck out in four, and then Joe Ros knocked one in the 5-6 hole on his first pitch, putting runners on first and third. Quintana had thrown a total of eighteen pitches.
Yager was up. He glanced at Jalen as he left the on-deck circle. Jalen didn’t blink. Yager rounded the plate, took his warm-up swings, then looked directly at Jalen.
Jalen ground his teeth.
He looked at the pitcher so hard his eyes hurt.
“Let’s go,” the ump barked. “Batter up!”
Yager stepped into the box, staring hard at Jalen.
Jalen could only shake his head.
He had no idea what Quintana was going to throw.
69
THE WHITE SOX PITCHER THREW a curveball that nicked the outside of the plate. Yager let it go for a strike. He stepped out of the box, and his eyes went immediately to Jalen, who could only shake his head and hold up his hands. In his mind, he saw the construction crews pulling out of the Silver Liner’s parking lot, leaving it with the repairs only partially complete.
From the corner of his eye, Jalen caught Cat looking at him. He turned his head just enough to see Chris staring as well. Jalen fought back tears of frustration and defeat, thankful no one could see his eyes behind the glasses. Yager’s twisted mouth looked like it spit out a curse. Jalen wasn’t close enough to hear, but he did hear the ump order Yager to step up to the plate. Yager’s lips tightened. He stepped up. Quintana threw a nasty cutter that he swung at and missed. Yager vacated the box again, and this time his eyes seemed to be pleading.
Jalen swallowed hard, trying to force his brain to cough up the answer.
None came.
Jalen mouthed the words, I’m sorry.
Yager’s head dropped. He nodded to the ump and stepped back into the box again. Quintana threw a high fastball. Yager let it go for a 1–2 count and stayed in the box. Quintana threw a curve that went too far inside. It was a 2–2 count when Jalen jumped up out of his seat.
“James!” he screamed at the top of his lungs and waved his hands.
Jalen didn’t care that people looked at him, as long as Yager did, and he did.
Jalen held up four fingers.
It was going to be a fastball.
He knew it.
70
YAGER NICKED IT FOUL BUT stayed alive.
Jalen signaled thumbs-down. A sinker was on the way. Yager gave a slight nod and stepped up.
In came the pitch.
Yager tagged it and the ball flew high and long, but not long enough to reach the wall. It was a footrace between the ball and Adam Eaton, the center fielder. Eaton stretched for it, burning up the grass, and barely missed.
Yager made it to second.
The crowd cheered.
Relief flushed through Jalen from head to toe.
From that point on, he felt confident. The night belonged to him, the Yankees, and JY.
Yager went to the plate twice more, hitting a single, then walking. The Yankees won by a score of 2–1. The crowd was bubbling. Yager offered nothing more than a wink to Jalen, when Foxx appeared at the end of their row of seats.
“Well, well! It’s the James Yager fan club, bringing more good luck! Well done.” Foxx smiled brightly, as if he, too, was a fan of Yager’s.
Jalen knew differently, but he couldn’t think of a thing to say when the GM invited the four of them to join him in the clubhouse to congratulate the team.
“You mean the locker room?” Cat’s mom’s face reddened.
Foxx laughed. “No, but right outside in the players’ lounge. After they get cleaned up, most of them will have something to eat and let the traffic die down before they head home. We can join them there.”
A reporter suddenly appeared at the edge of the wall with a cameraman, Jalen saw two others headed in his direction as well. One was the blond woman from last night.
“Hey, kid. Calamari Kid!” This reporter was a handsome gray-haired man in a Windbreaker. “Did JY eat your dad’s food again?”
Before Jalen could speak, the GM stepped up and put a hand in front of the c
amera. “Sorry, Torin. Jalen is a guest of the Brenneck family. He’s not doing interviews.”
“Jeffrey, come on,” the man pleaded, “it’s all over social media, and he talked to FOX last night. I’ve been waiting all game, and Yager batted a thousand again.”
“Sorry, Torin.” The GM ushered Jalen and his group toward the stairs, holding back the camera with his other hand and turning his back on them once Jalen was out of range.
They clustered at the bottom of the steps to let things clear out. Jalen saw that some of the other people in the VIP section were stealing glances at him, and he wondered if they’d been doing so throughout the game and he simply hadn’t noticed because of his focus. He wondered if anyone had seen him giving Yager signals, and it made his mouth dry.
“Okay,” Foxx said. “Time to move.”
“You better believe I’m good going into the players’ lounge,” Chris declared. “I’m gonna be a player in a couple years anyway.”
Foxx chuckled. “Oh, you are, huh?”
“I’m the best player Westchester Little League has ever seen.” Chris walked up two steps in front of them and turned around, folding his arms across his barrel chest to make his point. “I broke all Matt Mancini’s pitching records, and he played four years with Seattle.”
Jalen took off his sunglasses and gave Cat a poke in the back. When she turned, he flashed an angry look and nodded toward Chris to signal to her what a jerk he was. All Cat did was quickly flick her tongue out at him and turn her eyes away.
They reached the main aisle and went down the steps leading to the VIP Club. When they reached the bottom, the GM stopped and looked back and forth between Chris and Jalen. “You two buddies are teammates, huh?”
“The Calamari Kid?” Chris snorted out what might have been a laugh. “I wouldn’t say buddies. But we play on the same team. I’m only twelve, and I already throw a seventy-one-mile-an-hour fastball.”
Foxx raised an eyebrow. He gave Chris an easy smile and put a hand on his shoulder as he led them all to the left instead of to the right where the VIP Club was. “Oh. Well, yes, that’s fast. Come on. We can talk about that. Maybe I can show you the bullpen.”
71
JALEN SAT AT A TABLE in the players’ lounge, fuming.
The GM had simply dumped them there before taking Chris away for a private tour. He didn’t even ask Jalen or Cat. He just had them sit down while the catering people set up a buffet and said he’d be back in a little while and that they’d have to wait for the players to shower anyway.
Cat and her mom both had their phones out and were typing and scrolling away. He felt it was incredibly rude, but he knew people with phones often tuned out everything around them, so he wasn’t surprised when neither of them looked up at the sound of his long, heavy sighs. The lounge soon filled with the smells of roasted meats and red sauce. Tyler Hutt appeared, obviously surprised to see the three of them, even though he offered a winning smile before loading up a tray and sitting down a couple of tables away.
Foxx returned with Chris, who stood tall as he looked down at them. “Well, I got to see my future workplace.”
“Let’s get some food, shall we?” The GM put a brotherly hand on Chris’s shoulder as he addressed them all.
“Oh, I had a sandwich during the game,” Cat’s mom said. “But you kids can probably eat.”
“I’m good.” Jalen folded his arms across his chest. He felt like he was in enemy territory, and all he wanted was for Yager to appear and get them away from the devilish GM.
“I’ll take a drink.” Cat got up and followed Chris and the GM.
Chris loaded his plate with rare beef, golden french fries, and tortellini in red sauce. He had a big Pepsi to wash it all down. He sat across from Jalen without looking at him and attacked his food. Foxx had a plate with some celery and carrot sticks and a dollop of ranch dressing. Cat sat next to Chris, sipping iced tea.
The GM sat next to Jalen, across from Chris and Cat. “That’s it, Chris, eat. Enjoy. A boy like you needs to keep his strength up if he’s on his way to the Yankees.”
Chris looked up and grinned at the GM. Some red sauce leaked from between his teeth before he spoke to Jalen. “I even got to throw a couple pitches in the bullpen.”
“You don’t throw like any twelve-year-old I’ve seen,” said Jeffrey Foxx.
Chris beamed at him.
“Pretty nice setup, huh?” The GM waved a carrot stick around the lounge, addressing all of them now. “You like being in here? It’s pretty special. No one’s really allowed back here but the players.”
“I was here the other day.” Jalen regretted blurting that out the moment it left his lips. He wanted to have something over Chris but instead ended up sounding like just as big a jerk.
The GM’s lips curled into a smile, though. “Yes, you were. I haven’t forgotten about that.”
As the lounge filled up with players, Jalen looked around, thinking how Daniel would have gone wild if he’d been there. While each player gave their little group a strange look, they quickly ignored them or gave the GM a feeble wave before looking away, and the lounge filled with the happy sounds of a victory celebration. Finally Yager appeared, saw them, stopped his laughing, and froze.
Yager wore a look of shock. He approached their table and stood stiffly facing Jalen and the GM, his hair still wet and glossy from the showers. “Well, this is a surprise.”
Foxx’s eyes glittered like his teeth. “Well, I figured your little entourage is practically part of the Yankees family, right? I mean, Jalen here seems to be the key to our success. Yours especially, right, James?”
Yager didn’t smile back. “I told you he was lucky, Jeffrey. I go four-for-four tomorrow, and you’ll be signing me to a new contract, not because you said you would, but because you’d look like a fool dumping me with those kinds of numbers. How’d that be for luck?”
Chris sat chewing with his mouth open like he was watching a good movie. Cat, her mom, and Jalen all squirmed uncomfortably.
“Well, I’m not a betting man,” the GM finally said, “but if I were, I wouldn’t bet on you batting a thousand tomorrow night.”
Foxx wiped his mouth on a linen napkin and stood up.
“Why?” Yager asked. “Because the odds are against it?”
The GM laughed and crumpled the napkin before setting it down on the table. “No, not because the odds are against it, James . . . because I am.”
And he walked away.
72
EACH OF THEM EXCEPT CHRIS watched the GM disappear from the lounge.
“Are you going to eat?” Cat’s mom asked in a quiet voice.
Yager sighed. “I’m not hungry.”
“This stuff is awesome.” A little glob of fat flew from Chris’s mouth as he spoke, landing on his chin. He dabbed it with a fingertip. It stuck, and he scraped it on his lower lip so it could go the way of everything else on his plate.
Jalen looked at the two adults. “Can we go?”
Cat’s mom flicked her eyes at Chris before returning to Yager. “Maybe you could take Jalen?”
“Sure,” Yager said. “I’ll drop him, then maybe I can join you at Tipton for a drink? Ready, Jalen?”
Jalen was already out of his seat. He glanced at Cat, who seemed to be fascinated by the way Chris ate.
“You two deserve each other,” Jalen muttered under his breath as he walked past.
Yager led Jalen straight to the door, but that didn’t keep players from giving Yager high fives. Joe Ros held up his phone. “Dude, I saw what you just tweeted. I gotta get some of this calamari. This is the kid, right?”
Yager nodded. “This is Jalen.”
Jalen realized it wasn’t just Joe Ros who was interested. It seemed half the team was awaiting his response.
“Well, we had a fire, but the diner might be open by Saturday, and anyone can come,” Jalen said.
“Worth a try, right?” Hutt leaned over the table and fist-bumped Yager. “I mean
, remember when I went on that run back in ’09 with the Mets? Ate nothing but chicken, and that worked.”
“Well, this calamari’s working for me, buddy. Hop on board.” Yager kept walking, and in a moment they were in the garage with the Lamborghini’s doors humming open.
The traffic had thinned out, so it wasn’t long before they were back on the highway and racing toward Rockton. Yager had a playlist of old Eagles songs, and he sang along under his breath. Jalen sat silent, waiting for the player to open up about everything that was going on.
After a song called “New Kid in Town,” Jalen cleared his throat. “Can I talk to you?”
Yager turned off the music.
“Are you mad at me?” Jalen asked.
Yager flashed him a puzzled look. “Why would I be mad? We’re two-thirds of the way to my new contract because of you.”
Jalen breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, because Cat and I made you talk to Coach Gamble.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, he’s a piece of work. Cat was right, though, there’s not much he wouldn’t do for his kid. What a brute.”
“Cat’s sure mad, still,” Jalen said.
“Well, no one was happy when you made the whole permission-to-miss-practice thing a condition. I wasn’t at first either.” Yager glanced at him again. “But I get it. I would have been the same way.”
“Cat doesn’t get it,” Jalen said.
“Oh, I bet she does. She’s a great kid.”
“Well, she’s still mad at me.”
Yager shrugged. “Must be because of something else.”
Jalen winced and knew immediately what that was: his comment about her mom and Yager getting married. “If you see her tonight, can you tell her I’m sorry?”
“For what?” Yager asked.
Jalen couldn’t get it out. “Just . . . for everything.”