by Carl Deuker
I checked the runners, paused, then fired. I was trying to put the fastball right down the middle of the plate, but the pitch sailed inside. Reese jumped back and out of the way, his helmet coming off in the process. "Ball one!" the umpire cried, and from the Shorelake side I heard a chorus of boos. "Watch your pitches, kid!" somebody yelled.
I took off my glove, rubbed up the baseball, and stepped back onto the pitching rubber. Gold put down one finger, but this time he set up on the outside corner. I stretched, my eyes focused on his glove, and I delivered. Reese let it go by. "Strike one!" the umpire yelled.
Gold tossed the ball back to me. I looked in for the next sign, but I also watched Reese's feet. He didn't move up in the batter's box. Gold called for another fastball on the outside corner. Again, I stretched, checked the runners, delivered. My arm felt strong; the ball rocketed to home plate. "Strike two!" the umpire called.
"That was outside!" some parent on the Shorelake side yelled.
"One more strike!" Grandison called.
Reese stepped out of the batter's box, adjusted his batting gloves, then stepped back in. Only this time, he moved closer to home plate.
I knew what was going through his mind. He was hoping I'd lay another fastball on the outside corner. If I did, he would try to poke it into right field.
I looked in for the sign. Gold called for another fastball. I nodded, but I wasn't going outside this time. I'd set him up for the fastball inside, set him up to strike him out. So that's what I had to do. I went into my stretch, checked the runners, and delivered. The ball flew out of my hand: a letter-high fastball that painted the inside corner. Reese jumped back as if it were close to hitting him. For a long second the umpire said nothing. At last, he brought up his right hand. "Strike three!"
A few seconds later guys were all around the mound, pounding me on the back and pumping my hand up and down. "Great game!" they said. "Way to go!" And I said the same things back to them. Grandison was in the middle of us, a huge smile on his face. I was turned this way and that, but I did manage to spot my mom by the fence waving excitedly, her eyes shining. Standing next to her was Coach Dravus.
After that we formed a line and shook hands with the Shorelake guys. They were classy, wishing us good luck in the tournament, telling us we could go all the way. When I reached Reese, I didn't know what to say. All I managed was "Good game."
"You too," he said.
I found my mother and started with her to the car. We were about halfway to the parking lot when Grandison's voice boomed across the field. "Whitman players, get back here!"
"What's he want?" Mom asked.
"I don't know," I said. "But he doesn't sound happy."
I put my equipment bag down and jogged back to the infield. Grandison was pointing to our bench area. "This is a mess," he said as a bunch of us approached. "I want you to clean up this garbage."
We'd been so excited about the victory that we'd left water bottles, towels, and half-eaten bags of sunflower seeds strewn around. In a few minutes we had cleaned it up. "All right," he said. "That's better. You can go now."
CHAPTER 16
On the ride home, Mom talked about how exciting the game had been and how well I'd pitched. I did my best to hold up my part, but I suddenly felt so tired and the game seemed so long ago that it was hard. I was glad to get home, head upstairs, and take a shower.
When I came out of the shower, Mom called me downstairs. Her eyes were beaming. "Coach Dravus called. He's coming over in a few minutes to talk to both of us. Shane, I think you're going to get that scholarship."
My stomach turned over. "It might not be that."
"You're going to get it," Marian said. "You know you are."
"It's not for sure," I snapped.
My mother put up her hands. "Stop it. Both of you. We should be happy, not bickering." She turned to me. "Why don't you go upstairs and read or something. It won't be long."
She was right. Within five minutes there was a knock. When I went downstairs, Coach Dravus was standing in the front room. "That was quite a game you pitched today," he said. "Lots of pressure, and you didn't back down. That last fastball was ninety-one miles an hour. Did you know that?"
"No," I said. "I didn't."
"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Shane. I'd like you to come to the University of Portland next year and pitch for us. I'm offering you a full scholarship."
Marian clapped her hands together. My mother smiled broadly.
"Would you like me to go over anything again before you decide?" Dravus asked.
I shook my head. "Not really. Can I just say yes?"
He laughed. "Yes, you can."
After that he took out a bunch of paperwork and went over it in the kitchen with Mom. I sat with them, looking at whatever he handed me, reading the rules and regulations that go along with a scholarship, or at least pretending to.
After a few minutes, the telephone rang. "I'll get it," I said, glad to have an excuse to get away.
It was Benny Gold. "Grandison just called me. He's got the back room at Zeek's reserved for us. A celebration, he said. What do you say?"
"I don't know if I can," I said. "Let me check."
I put my hand over the receiver and asked Mom. She turned to Coach Dravus. "Does Shane need to be here?"
He shook his head. "I think Shane should be with his teammates tonight."
I took my hand away from the receiver. "Yeah, Benny, I can come."
"Great. I'll pick you up in about five minutes. You're right on the way for me."
As I started upstairs to get my jacket, Mom came out of the kitchen. "Shane," she said, her voice low so that Coach Dravus couldn't hear. "Is something wrong?"
"No. Everything's fine."
She looked at me, unsure. "You don't seem very happy."
"I'm happy. Really, I am. I'm just in a state of shock."
"You want this, don't you?"
"Yes. Definitely."
CHAPTER 17
Benny's car pulled up a few minutes later. By the time we reached Zeek's, half of the team was already there. As soon as we walked in, we heard our names hollered from all around. The same happened whenever anybody new entered.
Grandison was way in the back. He had a huge slice of pizza in his hand, and he held it up to us and pointed to a table that had six different pizzas spread across it. I worked my way back to the food, loaded up my plate, then sat down in a booth near a table where Miguel and Pedro and three other guys were talking. Benny sat right across from me, which surprised me. Benny and I got along okay, but we'd never hung out together.
I ate a little, but mainly I listened to Miguel and the other guys. Their voices were loud, excited. All of the talk was about our season. "Remember that triple Kim hit against Bellarmine?...How about the catch McDermott made against Marysville? The one in foul territory.... That catch was great, but what about..." In the next hour, every key play in the season was relived.
I listened and smiled. If somebody asked me something, I answered. A couple of times I thought about telling everybody about the scholarship, but I didn't. I was glad Benny was sitting across from me. He was always a quiet guy, never saying much, never asking anything, and that suited me just fine.
At eleven Grandison tapped a spoon against his glass, then gave a speech full of the normal stuff. When he finished, everybody cheered. A couple of minutes later, Grandison left. Once he was gone, the guys started leaving too. At eleven-thirty Miguel reached over and shook my shoulder. "See you Monday," he said. A minute later, his table was empty.
The McDermott brothers were playing video games toward the front. Lind, Fletcher, and Crandle crowded around them, waiting for a turn. Only Benny and I remained in the back. For the first time all evening, it was quiet. Benny took a sip of his Coke, then looked at me. "It didn't feel right, did it?"
My stomach knotted. "What are you talking about?"
"Come on, Shane," he said, his voice soft. "You know what I'm talking ab
out. I was the catcher, remember? He went down right in front of me. I can still hear the ball hitting him in the head. I can still see him lying on the ground, the blood pouring from his nose. And to win tonight by striking him out like that..."
He leaned forward, his voice still not much above a whisper. "You know what I was hoping when he stepped up to the plate? I was hoping he'd be the player he used to be. Imagine how incredible that would have been. You against him, with everything on the line. Even if he'd hit a home run and we'd lost, that still would have been something. You know what I mean?"
"Yeah," I said. "I know exactly what you mean." And I did.
The lights in the restaurant flicked on and off a few times. "That's it, boys," a voice called out. "We're closing."
We walked out to the parking lot and got into his car. Neither of us spoke as we drove up Greenwood, but at a red light Benny looked over. "Do you know where we play on Wednesday?"
"The rest of the playoffs are at UW."
"I've never played there. I hear it's great."
"That's what I've heard, too."
"And your arm's okay? Because we're going to need you."
"Don't worry about me, Benny. Whatever comes, I'll be ready."
We were silent the rest of the way to my house. He pulled into my driveway, and I got out. "Thanks for the ride," I said.
But before I could close the car door, Benny leaned across the seat toward me. "He could still come back, don't you think? If he works at it. Look at you. You struggled. You couldn't throw strikes; you couldn't throw hard. But you worked at it, and you made it back. You're the same player you were before you hit him. Right?"
I swallowed. "Yeah, Benny," I said. "I'm the same."
He nodded. I closed the car door and stood on the lawn as he backed out of the driveway and drove off into the night. Only then did I head up the walk to my home.
I hadn't lied to Benny. What I'd said was true. I was the same. Only I was different, too. Entirely different.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Front
PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
PART TWO
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
PART THREE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
PART FOUR
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17