Curveball

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Curveball Page 2

by Derek Jeter


  She poured the batter into the frying pan, and it sizzled, making a delicious smell. “Maybe when your friend Dave is here, you can get into a game or two over at the high school field. Logan and Andrew play softball over there sometimes.”

  Logan and Andrew were cousins of his who were in high school. Derek had already thought of asking them about it, but he wasn’t really into softball either. For him it had always been hardball or nothing.

  But her mention of Dave had reminded him of something else—he needed to ask her about Dave coming with them to Yankee Stadium on his visit. He was sure she’d say yes, but he’d already promised Dave, and he didn’t want to leave it till the last minute to get permission from Grandma.

  “Oh, by the way,” she said, before he got a chance to open his mouth. “I forgot to tell you. I’ve made our reservations for the Yankees game, so keep your glove handy. We’re going to see the Yankees play the Red Sox on Wednesday!”

  “Wednesday? But that’s only five days from now! And we always go in early August!”

  “Well, that’s usually true. But your uncle Louie and aunt Edna are going to Niagara Falls that week with their kids, and it wouldn’t be the same without them. The more the merrier, right?” Louie and Edna had five kids, including Zach, their oldest, who was fourteen, and nine-year-old Oscar, the cousin who Derek always had the most fun with.

  “But—but what about—” Derek blurted out before catching himself midsentence. He couldn’t very well tell her, without checking with her first, that he’d promised Dave that he would get to see the Yankees.

  Derek knew that his family went to only one Yankees game every summer. It was expensive, not to mention hard to arrange, what with so many cousins and aunts and uncles involved. But they had always gone in early August. He’d never even considered that Grandma might change the date.

  Now Dave might not get to go to a Yankees game at all, and it would be all Derek’s fault.

  “Is there some problem, Derek?”

  Derek didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, and he knew it would be too much to ask Grandma to return all those tickets and start over again, making arrangements for twenty-five people to go to another Yankees game, and leaving out Zach and his whole branch of the family just so that Dave could come.

  “Derek?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but he never got to say anything, because just at that moment Sharlee came bounding down the stairs, yelling, “Whoopee! Pancakes!”

  And at the same moment he heard Aunt Dorien’s car pulling into the driveway. Derek realized he’d have to wait till later to talk with Grandma about Dave and the Yankees game.

  Which was just as well, because he had no idea what to say or do about it.

  Chapter Two

  FAMILY FUN

  Later that morning, after everyone had their fill of Grandma’s pancakes, Derek, Sharlee, Jessica, and Alfie piled into her ancient Oldsmobile, and headed over to the Castle, about a five-minute drive away.

  The car was even older than Derek’s mom and dad’s car, or Grandpa’s pickup truck, but Derek loved it anyway. Grandma had driven that same car ever since he could remember. That was one of his favorite things about New Jersey—how everything stayed just the same, summer after summer.

  There were already more than a dozen of his cousins running around the big lawn on the property when the car pulled up. Derek got out and started running over to join them. But then he remembered to go back and help Grandma unhook the little ones from their car seats, and help her carry some of the food and drinks she’d brought with her, as her contribution to the daily picnic lunch they all shared while spending their days at the lake.

  Derek spotted Oscar, and immediately they started chasing each other around the property, taking turns being the hunter and the hunted. Finally they ended up jumping into the lake off the cement dock, splashing every other kid within ten feet of them.

  A few hours later they all sat down for lunch at one of the picnic tables the grown-ups had set up at the edge of the big lawn. Then Zach arrived on his bike, and he and Derek decided to organize a game of Wiffle ball with every kid there.

  Wiffle ball was fun, Derek thought, as he told the little ones on his team where to stand, and where to throw the ball if it came to them. But it wasn’t the same as playing baseball. After an hour Derek had had more than enough Wiffle ball for one day and was glad when the game ended early, with four of the younger players complaining that they wanted to go swimming. All the kids then made a beeline for the lake. Some jumped right in, but the littler ones lowered themselves down the metal ladder attached to the dock.

  Some of the better swimmers swam out to the raft. The water there was over Derek’s head, but he was a pretty good swimmer, as most of the kids were. Growing up at the lake had made them all comfortable in the water.

  Derek swam out now and hoisted himself onto the raft with Andrew. Oscar swam up right behind him. Derek helped him up, and they all warmed themselves in the summer sun as they lay on their backs, eyes closed, floating peacefully.

  Suddenly Derek heard Sharlee yell, “No! Zach, stop!” He opened his eyes and saw that Zach was standing at the edge of the concrete platform where the property met the lake. He had Sharlee in both his arms, and was about to toss her into the water!

  Zach seemed to think that Sharlee was joking, that she really wanted him to throw her in. But Derek knew his sister better. “Hey!” he yelled, cupping his hands over his mouth so that his older cousin could hear him all the way from the raft. “Let her be, Zach. She doesn’t want to get thrown in, okay?”

  “Aw, come on! It’s funny!” Zach called back to him.

  “If she doesn’t think it’s funny, it’s not funny,” Derek countered, in a tone that didn’t allow for any more argument.

  Zach seemed disappointed, but he let Sharlee down safely onto the platform. She gave Derek a quick smile and a wave of gratitude. “Thanks,” she called to him, and sat back down on the edge of the platform next to Tina and Sophie, two cousins her age.

  Meantime, Zach dived in and soon hauled himself up onto the raft beside Derek and the others. “You guys are no fun,” he grumbled.

  Derek didn’t answer. He knew Zach would get over it in a few minutes. Sometimes older kids thought little kids were toys to play around with and goof on. And while Sharlee was not usually timid, she wasn’t much for being messed with either.

  “That was cool, how you stuck up for your little sister,” Oscar said, smiling. “Zach gets on my nerves sometimes too.”

  “Yeah,” Derek said, shrugging. “Big brothers, I guess.”

  “Not you,” Andrew pointed out. “You don’t do that to Sharlee.”

  It was true, Derek had to admit. Oscar and Andrew’s admiration made Derek feel good. It was almost like he himself was being a role model to the other kids around him. The thought made him laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Oscar asked.

  “Nothing,” Derek said. But it really was funny how sometimes you were looking for role models. And sometimes you were being one yourself.

  • • •

  That evening, tired from their long, active day at the lake, Derek and Sharlee sat on the porch while Grandma, who never seemed to get tired, made dinner. The sun had already disappeared behind the hill to the west of the house, but across the lake the houses on the east side were still bathed in sunlight. Soon enough Grandpa came home from work and they all sat down to eat.

  Afterward, as he did most nights, Grandpa sat down in front of the TV and put his feet up to relax. He was never a big talker, but at the end of a workday, he was too tired to say much of anything. As he watched TV, his eyes started to close, until he realized he was falling asleep and opened them again.

  Sharlee sidled over to him and climbed into his lap. “Oh, gosh, have I got to put up with this load of cement sitting in my lap?” he said, making Sharlee giggle.

  He pretended to complain about it, but both she
and Derek knew he loved having his grandkids around. That was just how Grandpa was. You knew he loved you, even though he never said so.

  About fifteen minutes later, though, Grandpa yawned and said, “Listen, some of us have to get up early tomorrow morning. Come on, you sack of potatoes,” he told Sharlee. “Off of me, now. There you go.”

  Sharlee reached out and hugged him before letting him go. Grandpa messed with Derek’s hair as he passed Derek on his way to the stairs. “Don’t stay up all night, now, big fella,” he said.

  “I won’t, Grandpa,” Derek said.

  Soon after he’d gone upstairs, Grandma got up from her seat on the couch. “Well,” she said, “I’d better get a start on those dishes.”

  “I’ll help!” Derek offered, springing up from his armchair.

  “Shhh,” Grandma reminded him. “Your grandpa’s trying to sleep. Let’s not scream too loud, okay?”

  Derek put a hand to his mouth. He always forgot to speak quietly after Grandpa had gone to bed. Back at home no one went to bed before nine.

  “I’ll wash; you dry,” Grandma said as she turned on the kitchen faucet.

  Sharlee had stayed behind in the living room to watch TV. In the background Derek heard the theme from one of her favorite shows playing, and knew she had changed the channel from the news to cartoons.

  Derek was always ready to help Grandma with her work, but he also had another reason for joining her in the kitchen. This was his best chance to bring up the subject that had been gnawing at the back of his mind all day long.

  “Um, Grandma?”

  “Yes, Derek?”

  He hesitated, trying to think of the best way to put the question he wanted to ask. Then he saw the framed picture on the kitchen wall—the one he never got tired of looking at.

  It was an old newspaper article with a headline reading FAREWELL TO THE BABE. Below the headline was a black-and-white photograph of a long line of people outside Yankee Stadium. All the men had hats in their hands, but none of them was wearing one on his head.

  “Tell me again about how you were there at Babe Ruth’s funeral?” he asked his grandma.

  “Again?” she asked. “You’ve only heard that one a hundred times.”

  “Tell me again,” he begged. “Please?”

  “Well, I was just a girl, of course. There must have been fifty thousand people there that day, to honor the Babe and say good-bye.” She paused, and sighed, remembering that day long ago. “He was the greatest baseball player there ever was, or ever will be.”

  Then she laughed and gave Derek a sidelong glance. “Of course, there are some people who prefer the Iron Horse—Lou Gehrig. And it’s true, he was also one of the greatest players ever—a great teammate who never took a day off, and a wonderful person who never got himself into any kind of trouble—the kind of man any kid would want to grow up to be like.”

  “A real role model,” said Derek, thinking of this afternoon and what had happened with Zach and Sharlee.

  “Yes, he was.” Grandma paused and sighed. “Still, when you come right down to it, there will never be anyone like the Babe. The greatest player ever, bar none.” She fell silent, and Derek figured it was now or never.

  “Grandma, can we go to another Yankees game this summer, when Dave is here? I kind of . . . I kind of promised him.”

  There it was. He felt foolish. Why, oh why, had he promised Dave something he wasn’t sure he could make good on?

  “Oh, Derek, I don’t know,” she said, knitting her brows. “It’s very expensive to take everybody in the family to a game, and it takes a lot of arranging and scheduling.”

  “No, I mean just us three—and maybe Sharlee,” Derek said. “So that’s only four tickets, and we can all go in one car. . . .” He looked up at her hopefully, biting his lip.

  “Why didn’t you think to ask me in advance?” she asked.

  “Sorry, Grandma. I just kind of . . . didn’t think of it at the time.”

  “Well, I don’t know. Someone will have to look after the kids while I’m off watching the game . . . but I’ll consider it.”

  “Thanks, Grandma!” Derek said, forgetting to keep his voice down, then remembering and covering his mouth with his hand. “Oops. Sorry,” he whispered.

  “It’s a lot to ask, Derek,” she said, her face serious, though Derek knew she always had a hard time saying no to him. “I want to think about it for a while first. Just remember, I’m not promising anything—yet.”

  “Okay,” Derek said. “I understand.”

  He did understand. He could only wait, keep his fingers crossed, and hope she’d agree to his plan. Otherwise, what was he going to tell Dave?

  Chapter Three

  A WHOLE NEW BALL GAME

  “Are we there yet?” Sharlee said again, in case anyone hadn’t heard her the first three times. She and Derek were sitting in the backseat of Grandma’s car as they drove across the George Washington Bridge into New York City.

  “Not yet,” said Grandma. “But if you look out the window, you can see all the skyscrapers. There’s the Empire State Building, with the needle on top.”

  Sharlee craned her neck. “I see it! I see it!”

  Derek smiled. He loved how excited Sharlee always got about things. And today there was plenty to be excited about. They were on their way to Yankee Stadium to watch the Yankees play their archrivals, the Boston Red Sox!

  Six other cars were coming too—all filled with Derek’s uncles, aunts, and cousins—twenty-five people in all. Grandma had reserved a whole row in the upper deck in right field for them. It was going to be a blast.

  It was only five, and the game didn’t start until after seven. None of the other family members’ cars had even left New Jersey yet. Derek had talked Grandma into leaving for the stadium at four, ninety minutes earlier than everyone else, so that they could watch the Yankees take batting and fielding practice.

  Secretly Derek was hoping that Dave Winfield would even hit one into the upper deck, where Derek could make a fantastic catch and be noticed by the Yankees scouts!

  He knew it was just a fantasy. Still, it didn’t stop him from dreaming. Most of Derek’s dreams were about the Yankees anyway.

  As they crossed over the Harlem River into the Bronx, and the stadium loomed in front of them, Grandma said, “By the way, Derek, I’ve been thinking about your special request. You know the one I mean?”

  Of course he did!

  “Yes? And?” he asked, leaning forward and biting his lip anxiously.

  “What special request?” Sharlee asked, her eyes widening.

  “Never mind, nosey,” Derek told her, giving her a little tickle that made her squeal with laughter. He hadn’t told her about his plans, in case Grandma said no.

  “I’ve decided to allow it—”

  “Yesss!”

  “If you’re willing to work to earn the cost of the tickets. If a person wants something extra, he should be willing to work for it.”

  “What thing?” Sharlee demanded. “What are you talking about? Tell me! Tell me!”

  Derek laughed. There was no point in trying to hide it from her. She would never stop, he knew, till he told her the big secret, and now that Grandma had agreed, there was no reason not to tell her. “We’re going to another Yankees game this summer—me, Dave, Grandma . . . and you, of course,” he added when he saw that she was about to protest.

  “Yay!” Sharlee said, instantly brightening.

  “That’s if you work for the money to pay for the tickets,” Grandma reminded him.

  “Uh . . . what kind of work are we talking about?” Derek asked.

  “Well, since you’re getting so big and strong, I thought you could mow a few lawns. That ought to bring in good money. I’ll ask the neighbors up and down the block. Meantime, you can help me with my chores, and with babysitting at the lake.”

  That didn’t sound too hard, Derek thought. As to lawn mowing, he’d never done it before, but how hard could it be? It
was only grass, right? “Deal!” he said.

  “Good. I suppose you could ask your friend Dave to pay for his own ticket,” she added.

  “Maybe,” said Derek, but he didn’t tell her he’d already promised that he’d treat Dave to the game. Derek hadn’t figured then on having to pay for three more tickets besides!

  While he was considering all this, Grandma had pulled off the highway and onto the streets of the Bronx.

  “Why are we going left?” he asked her. “The stadium’s the other way!”

  “True,” said Grandma. “But the cheapest parking lots are this way. We’ll probably have to walk four or five blocks, but I figure you kids won’t mind the exercise.”

  They parked the car in an outdoor lot, took their shopping bag full of sandwiches with them, and headed off toward the big ballpark. They passed car repair shops, apartment buildings, and baseball-themed restaurants. Overhead the elevated trains of the New York City subway system clattered and shrieked so loudly that they had to hold their ears more than once.

  As they approached the stadium, they came to a big, fenced-in park. Well, not a park, really—more of a great big dirt field or sandlot, covering a whole square block, with four baseball diamonds, one in each of its corners.

  These “fields” weren’t like the ones in Kalamazoo. Back home in Michigan, athletic fields weren’t perfect, but they were pretty well taken care of.

  Here it was different. There was mostly dirt everywhere. There were a few patches of grass in the outfield, looking brown and dead. No one had tended these fields for a long, long time. The chain-link fence surrounding the whole area had holes in it big enough for a grown-up to fit through.

  All four fields were occupied—three of them by teenagers and young adults practicing their hitting and fielding. But on the nearest field there was a game going on, with full nine-man teams made up of kids who seemed to range in age from eleven—Derek’s age—to about fourteen.

 

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