A girl behind Bucky raised her hand. “Are they at the same place in the book and all of that?”
“I don’t know. Mr. Rojas will have to handle that. I’m sure he’ll make allowances for whatever curriculum you were doing.”
“When do we go?” Dan boomed out the question.
“Right now.” The woman glanced up at the hall clock. “They’re expecting you.”
The fifteen or so students clattered noisily down the empty hallway toward the other class section. Bucky hadn’t really connected with Mrs. Randall, but he still felt a twinge of sympathy. He made a mental note that he and Dan should get her a get - well card or something. Maybe the front office would have more details after school.
Mr. Rojas, a dynamic instructor with a PE teacher’s muscular build, motioned the visitors into his room. “You’ll all have to stand against the wall all semester until graduation,” he teased. “We don’t have any room for you turkeys.”
If anything, this section was even less full than Mrs. Randall’s had been. As Bucky surveyed the half - empty classroom, his eyes suddenly landed on a familiar figure in the far corner. Seated alone, Lisa was bent over a drawing, idly sketching something. He gulped and sat down next to Dan in the second row, his pulse racing. “Yeah, I saw her too,” Dan leaned over and murmured in a low voice, trying not to laugh as he noticed his friend’s discomfiture.
Monday afternoon Bucky pulled a muted gray Panthers jersey on and carefully tucked it in. A nervous rumble of optimism filled the visitors’ locker room. Coach Demerest had pulled together a good team, but the switch in coaches had been a jarring experience, and no one at Hampton Beach was about to predict what kind of season it was going to be.
Coach Demerest announced the lineup, and Bucky flushed as the coach awarded him the coveted number three slot. “And Litton, you’re cleanup, of course,” the gray-haired director observed. “We’re expecting big things from you, young man.”
Pitching was ragged on both sides, and by the time they got to the sixth inning, the two Christian athletes had already knocked in three runs apiece. “Let’s get some more,” Bucky exhorted, clapping as the Panthers came trooping in from the field after the third out. “Two - run lead ain’t enough.”
The visitors were retired in order, and the home team, taking advantage of a pair of walks, bunted both runners into scoring position, where they were immediately picked up on a single that landed in front of the center fielder. Tied score! The medium - sized crowd in the stands gave the grinning hitter an ovation as he danced away from first.
A double play ended the threat, and the sagging outfielders walked toward the dugout. “No sweat! No sweat!” Bucky clapped vigorously. “Get it back right now. Let’s beat ‘em!” He felt some butterflies in his stomach, remembering that he was due to lead off.
Demerest, glancing down at his lineup chart, made a notation, then looked over at the center fielder. “Stone, you’re up. Get something started for us.”
Even though his and Dan’s long hours of practice had been for precisely this moment, Bucky still felt a shiver of nerves despite the warm April weather. He fumbled in his cubbyhole for his favorite batting helmet.
Stepping into the batter’s box, he glanced out at the mound. All game he’d been watching the opposing hurler’s moves, trying to pick up on any patterns. Almost always, with the first batter of an inning, he wanted to get a strike – but not a very good strike. About half the time his curve ball had missed the zone, and he’d always come back with a hard fastball to make sure he didn’t fall behind 2-0.
“Miss that first one,” he muttered to himself. “Then I’m in the driver’s seat.”
“Go get him, Stone.” Dan shouted out his encouragement. “Get on base and I’ll knock you in.”
The pitcher wound up and gave him the expected curve. Ball one!” The umpire hesitated for a moment before announcing that the pitch had just missed the outside corner. Bucky could feel his confidence rising. At batting practice that afternoon he’d been making good hard contact.
Taking a deep breath, he waved the bat back and forth. “Come on,” he breathed to himself. He wanted that fastball bad. As the pitch came toward him, he felt that split second of exhilaration. Yeah! Right in the zone he wanted, he caught the pitch directly in his “wheelhouse.” It was one of those kinds that a power hitter knew he’d crunched. The ball was a distant arc as it sailed well over the left fielder’s head and bounced a solid forty feet over the fence. It was a monster homer, one that even Bucky knew was gone the moment he made contact. Not one to stand at home plate and gloat, he trolled evenly around the bases, trying to suppress the smile threatening to break through. As he rounded third, he could hear Dan screaming. “Yes! It’s rolling into the ocean!”
The entire team was at the dugout entrance to give him high fives, “What a shot!” Buddy, the shortstop, was grinning like a fool. “Good one, Stone. It’d take me three shots to hit one that far.”
The home run seemed to have paralyzed the home team. In the bottom of the final frame Dennis got rid of the hitters with a total of four pitches. Bucky, trotting in from center field, gave a satisfied nod. As the players gathered around after the game, guys were still giving him little punches of approval. “Give the man the game ball,” one of them said to Coach Demerest. “You ain’t gonna get many homers bigger than that one.”
Demerest watched in silence as Bucky and Dan went into the locker area and sank down in front of their lockers. “You and me, Stone,” Dan repeated. “You and me.”
Chapter Seven: A Blast From the Past
Just a trace of drizzle hung in the air as Bucky, Dan, and Julie did the last mile of their four - mile route. It was the first time Julie had joined them, but she was keeping up gamely with the two senior guys. “You doin’ all right, hot thing?” Dan wanted to know.
“Sure.” She wiped away some of the moisture beading on her forehead. “How much farther is it?”
“‘Bout a quarter mile is all.” The last stretch near Dan’s home was downhill all the way, and the trio sped up a bit, especially as the rain started coming down harder. They tumbled through the front door and into the living room just as it got really wet.
“Man, just in time.” Dan went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of ice - cold water. “Here, you guys.”
Bucky glanced at his watch. “Man, we’re not too fast today. I’m gonna be late for school.”
“It’s my fault.” Julie wasn’t even breathing hard, but she held up her hand as if to admit a basketball foul.
“No, you did great.” Bucky took a quick drink and then said goodbye to the couple. This afternoon was the Panthers’ home opener, and he hadn’t finished his physics assignment yet. The windows on the Toyota were badly fogged as he carefully drove over to Woodman Avenue.
Varsity baseball crowds at the high school usually weren’t anything a sportswriter would notice, with Hampton Beach being more of a basketball town these days. But with the exciting win the last week to start them off right, the stands were nearly filled. A good number of local enthusiasts were sitting right down around home plate. A couple even had blank scoring reports out so they could chart every play.
“Don’t these people have jobs?” Bucky laughed as he and Dan pegged hard liners back and forth to each other on the sidelines.
“Man, when I’m an old coot on Social Security, I’m going to go to a ballgame every day.”
Brimming with confidence, the Panthers took the field for the top of the first inning. “Let’s get ‘em one, two, three!” Bucky told them as he and his teammates trotted out to their positions. “Dig in on defense!”
But again the pitching was less than memorable, as the visitors got a run in the first frame. Paul Crook, the Panthers’ starting right fielder, misjudged a ball that was slicing away from him, and the team from Stockton took advantage of the two - base error.
“He’s not very with it out there,” Dan muttered to Bucky as the run went up on the board
. It took the Panthers until the third inning to catch up, and in the fourth the visitors promptly added two more.
Bucky watched, a bit of resentment creeping in, as the next batter stepped in. The casual outfielder to his right wasn’t even paying attention. Even as Dennis took his windup, Crook seemed to be glazed over.
Moments later a lazy fly ball sailed into right field. Paul did manage to make the routine catch, and immediately gave the ball a casual flip and began jogging toward the infield.
“Two outs!” Coach Demerest began shouting from the dugout. “There’s only two outs! Wake up out there!” The runner on first, sizing up the situation, made a sprint for second base and slid in easily. “Come on!” The athletic director’s face reddened. “Look alive!” He paced the dugout, fuming in a voice even the outfielders could hear. “Unbelievable! We can’t count to three!”
Bucky jogged a bit closer to where Dan was patrolling his own area, a tight grin on his face. “I’m scared,” he murmured. “Save me.”
“Dumb play.” Dan was shaking his head. “Hope it doesn’t cost us another run.”
The inning ended harmlessly, and with one out in the bottom of the frame, the Panthers notched back - to - back singles. The crowd began to stir with the possible rally. “Stone!” Coach Demerest motioned with his head toward the diamond. “You’re up.”
“Go after ‘em, Tiger.” Dan gave him a slap of encouragement. “Ducks are out there on the pond, Stone,” he advised, referring to the runners on base. “Go rescue them. And then I’ll hit you in too.”
“It’s RBI time!” Bucky recognized the voice of an older man, a diehard alumni fan who had even attended the road game the previous week. “Knock ‘em in, Stone.”
He hadn’t noticed any predictable pattern with this pitcher so far, so simply dug in at the plate, determined to pick out his best pitch. Coach Brayshaw had always said, “I don’t mind if you men even go after the first one. If you like it, pull the trigger. Be aggressive up there. Those pitchers can’t get the idea that the first one is free for them.”
And the first pitch was right where he liked them, thigh - high and on the inside half. With a vicious swing, he drove the pitch past the third - base bag and down the line. Fair ball! Both runs scored easily and Bucky went into second with a stand - up double.
“You’re batting a thousand so far!” Dan gave him thumbs-up from the on-deck circle. “My man!”
Moments later Bucky scooted hard for home on Dan’s single to center. It was a risky play, but with a burst of extra speed he avoided the catcher’s tag with a clever slide.
“Yeah!” Coach Demerest was the first one to greet him as he returned to the dugout bringing a Panther lead with him. “Heads - up baserunning!”
After the third out, Dan tossed Bucky his glove. “Good one, shorty. Show ‘em some leather.”
Bucky jogged out to center field, still hearing some scattered applause from the fans on the home side of the diamond. “Way to bring them back, Bucky,” one of them called out.
By the sixth inning, the Panthers were coasting with a five-run cushion. Bucky had another sacrifice fly and the team was relaxed with the possibility of going two and oh. The head coach had a grin on his face as he came over to where Bucky was tugging on his socks. “Lopez tells me you don’t look too bad on the mound,” he observed. “Care to finish the game for us?”
The young athlete gaped. “Are you kidding? Actually pitch for real?”
Coach Demerest gave a disdainful jerk of the head at the opposition. “We got ‘em by six runs, and it’s the bottom of their order coming up. I mean, it’s your call, but if you get in trouble, I can always have Miguel bail you out. He’s good for a couple of outs.”
“Go for it, Stone.” Dan was grinning from ear to ear. “You can do it, man.”
Anthony’s eyes lit up as the tall senior walked nervously to the mound. “All right, Stone,” he called out. “Major league debut, dude. Let’s nail these puppies.”
The opposing shortstop stepped into the batter’s box and eyed the newcomer. He was a slight athlete, and his tentative swings gave Bucky a feeling of growing confidence. All for your glory, Jesus, he murmured as he sucked in his breath.
It felt a bit different to pitch with a batter standing there, but Bucky focused like a laser on Anthony’s big round catcher’s mitt. “Just hit that target,” he murmured to himself.
The first pitch whistled in with startling velocity, and the batter seemed to recoil. The ump’s arm shot up. Strike one! A whoop went up from the infield. “Nobatternobatternobatter!”
Masking a grin, Bucky accepted the return toss and rubbed the ball around in his right hand. Anthony signaled for another fastball, and Bucky wound up. The pitch was in a perfect place, right on the inside corner, and the hitter lunged at it. An easy roller skipped out to the shortstop, and he tossed it to first, beating the runner by a good fifteen feet. A whoop went up from the grandstands where home fans were watching the curious scene.
“Attaboy, rookie!” Coach Demerest pumped his fist in the air.
The second hitter watched as a pitch, a bit too high, sailed into Anthony’s glove. But the second one was a hard strike, thigh high, and he lofted an easy fly ball to left field. Dan gloved it and gave a casual toss back to the infield.
“Your ERA’s zero, man,” Anthony called out, trying to encourage the newcomer to a finish. “Let’s get in the dugout and start partying.”
Bucky worked the hitter to a one - and - two count and decided he had enough cushion to waste a pitch trying out a curve. So far in practice, the experimental pitch was still very iffy, bouncing in the dirt about half the time. But he grinned when Anthony gave him two fingers and a quick gesture toward the outside part of the plate. With the bases empty, even a ball skipping to the backstop wouldn’t do any harm.
Winding up, he aimed for a spot right at the hitter’s waist, inside half of the plate. Snapping his wrist as sharply as he could, he watched the pitch sink almost into the dirt. The batter, thinking it was a low strike, lunged at the pitch and missed it by a mile. A whoop of joy came from the field, and the players mobbed around their new hurler. “Cy Young! Cy Young! Cy Young!”
“Cut it out,” Bucky protested, flushing with pleasure. “We were already up by six.”
“So?” Anthony’s chubby face was wreathed in smiles. “That was awesome, dude. You got ‘em with that hook.”
Coach Demerest was all smiles as well, as the happy squad trundled toward the home dugout, still pounding Bucky on the back. “Good outing, Stone,” he grinned, offering a handshake. “‘Course you don’t get a save, since we were up by six. But it’s nice to know we’ve got an extra arm on the team. And that last curve was wicked, young man.”
“I’m tellin’ you, we’re gonna go all the way,” Dan enthused as they showered off. “And man, if Coach has you pitch here and there, that’s amazing, Stone. I was just kidding around, and here you are taking the mound in varsity games.”
The athletic director was waiting for them just outside the complex as they emerged. “Good job so far, men,” he said pleasantly.
“Thanks, Coach.” For a moment Dan looked past him, to see if Julie was waiting. “Two and oh already.”
The pair strolled past and over toward the parking lot. Dan scratched his head. “Wonder where my lady friend is. Guess she don’t love me no more.” He pointed over toward Bucky’s Toyota. “Looks like things might be looking up for you, though.”
Bucky glanced toward his little white compact and sucked in his breath. Lisa was standing there waiting for him.
What?
As he walked slowly toward her his mind raced. What did she want? What should he say? For a quick second his recent prayer flashed into his mind. As he looked at her now, her long hair blowing against her face, all his romantic determination came flooding back despite his best intentions.
He stopped a few feet away from her. “Hey.”
“Hi.” She looked down awkwar
dly at his bag. “Did you win?”
“Yeah. Beat them by two runs.” He grinned. “And the coach let me pitch the last inning.”
“That’s good.” She stood next to the door on the driver’s side.
Bucky hesitated. “Do you, like, need a ride or anything?”
She gave a little shake of her head. “Huh uh. I was just . . . waiting for you.”
He swallowed at the lump in his throat, “Well, you know I’m always in favor of that.” Lord, don’t let me say anything too stupid! Please!
“Do you have to be anywhere right now? Do you have to work?”
“Are you kidding?” A bit of confidence began to return. “Baseball players always have time for their loyal fans.” He dug in his pocket for his keys. “Hang on, let me dump this stuff in the trunk.” As he was putting things away, he peered over the top of the car at her. “Did you want to just . . . talk or something? Or get something to eat?”
“No, that’s OK. Just . . . I want to talk.”
Instinctively he took her arm and pointed toward the bleachers. The brief touch made him shiver. “OK then.” He pointed. “The best Lisa - and - Bucky conversations always happened over there. Remember?”
“Yeah.”
“‘Course that was in the olden days.”
The pair walked in silence over to the metal benches, now completely empty. In the distance Bucky could hear the zip-zip-zip of an automatic sprinkler as it crawled slowly away from them. He held out his hand and helped her up the top level of the grandstand seats. “How’s that?”
“Good.” She sat and scooted a bit closer to him, an innocent, vulnerable move. For a long minute she gazed down at the sod below the bleachers, not speaking.
“Is everything OK?” he asked at last, his voice low.
Lisa nodded. “Yeah. I guess.” She looked right at him. “I’m glad you’re in my government class.”
It seemed like an odd remark. Ever since the transfer to Mr. Rojas’ section, Lisa had stayed in the corner and he and Dan had parked on the second row. But he didn’t pursue the thought with her.
Bucky Stone: The Complete Adventure (Volumes 1-10) Page 97