by A. I. Newton
to Zeke.
“I’m doing what you asked,” Zeke
said. “I’m playing without using my
powers, and look what’s happening.”
“You’re getting a lot better with
every pitch, so just try to relax,” said
Harris. “You’ll get the next batter!”
Zeke’s next pitch almost flew over
Harris’s head. He had to stand up and
jump to catch it.
Zeke turned his back to the plate.
When he turned back around, Harris
saw a serious, determined look on his
face.
Harris put down one finger, the
signal for Zeke to throw a fastball.
Zeke nodded, then fired a blazing pitch
right over the plate. The batter swung
late and missed. The ball slammed
into Harris’s glove with a thunderous
crack for everyone to hear.
“Strike one!” the umpire cried.
The home crowd cheered.
“Come on, Zeke!” shouted Harris’s
dad from the bleachers.
But Harris was suspicious. How
could Zeke find his control so quickly?
he wondered. And how did he throw it
so fast?
Harris signaled for the same pitch
to see if Zeke could do it twice in a
row. He did. Right in the same spot.
“Strike two!” the umpire yelled.
Harris was pretty sure that Zeke
was using his powers again. He put
down two fingers, signaling for a
curveball. Zeke hasn’t been able to throw
a curveball yet without cheating. Let’s
see what he does here, Harris thought.
Zeke threw a perfect curveball.
It looked like it was going to hit the
batter—she leaned away from the
pitch—but then the ball curved back
over the plate.
“Strike three. Yer out!” called the
umpire.
Harris was now certain that Zeke
using his powers.
“Way to go, Zeke!” Roxy shouted
from shortstop.
Mixing fastballs in with curveballs,
Zeke easily struck out the next two
batters and didn’t allow a run to score.
As the Chargers headed for the dugout,
he headed for the bench with a smile
on his face.
Once Zeke sat down and took off
his glove, Harris pulled him aside.
“You promised,” he whispered.
“I’m playing to the best of my
ability,” Zeke said, looking away.
“That’s what I’m doing. Nobody else
seems to mind.”
Roxy walked past Zeke. “Nice job
pitching!” she said. “You’re up to bat
now. Get a hit!”
“See?” Zeke said to Harris, standing
up and grabbing a bat.
“Could you please try to hit without
using your powers?” Harris asked.
“Just try.”
Zeke said nothing and strode quietly
to the plate.
ZEKE STEPPED INTO THE BATTER’S BOX.
He glanced over at Harris and nodded,
tight-lipped. He turned and stared at
the pitcher.
Harris took this as a sign that Zeke
had decided not to use his powers.
He watched anxiously as the pitcher
threw her first pitch.
Zeke swung wildly. He didn’t even
coming close to hitting the ball. The
same thing happened on the next
pitch, and the one afterward. Three
swings, three strikes. Zeke was out.
Harris was up next. As he walked
to the plate, he passed Zeke heading
back to the bench with his head down.
“Good try, Zeke,” Harris said. “Don’t
worry, you’ll get a hit next time.”
Zeke said nothing and sat down.
Harris lined the first pitch he saw into
left field. After him, the Chargers got a
bunch of hits. By the time the inning
ended, they had scored three runs.
Back out on the mound, Zeke
continued to play without using his
powers. His pitching was slowly
getting better, but the Scrappers still
managed to score three runs to tie up
the game.
“You’re doing good out there, Zeke,”
Harris said as the two friends sat on
the bench.
“But they tied the game,” Zeke
pointed out.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Harris.
“Your pitching is getting better each
inning.” And then, lowering his voice,
he added: “without any ‘extra help.’”
It was Zeke’s turn at bat again. And
again he swung and missed at three
pitches in a row.
Zeke headed back out to the mound.
Harris could see the frustration
mounting on his face.
“Forget about striking out, Zeke,”
Harris shouted as he took his position
behind the plate. “Let’s just get these
next three guys out.”
Zeke pitched well, but the Scrappers
scored a run to take a 4–3 lead heading
into the bottom of the final inning.
The first two batters for the
Chargers made two quick outs. With
nobody on base, Roxy came up to bat.
“C’mon now! Keep it alive, Roxy!”
Harris shouted.
Roxy hit the first pitch to right field
for a single.
“Yeah!” cried Harris.
Zeke was up next. The game was
on the line.
“Just focus, Zeke,” Harris said. “You
can do it!” Harris was worried that
Zeke might use his powers again.
Zeke stepped into the batter’s box.
“Do your best, Zeke!” Roxy shouted
as she took her lead off first base.
My best, Zeke thought. Yes, I will do
my best.
The pitcher threw a pitch. Using
his powers, Zeke directed the ball
right toward his bat. He swung and
smacked the ball deep to left field.
The ball sailed over the fence for a
two-run home run. Zeke had won the
game for his team!
All the Chargers rushed onto the
field. They waited as Zeke rounded the
bases. Then the whole team jumped
up and down in a big pile at home
plate with Zeke in the middle.
Everyone except Harris.
“I knew you could do it, Zeke!” Roxy
shouted. “You’re a superstar!”
I can’t join the celebration, Harris
thought, not when Zeke’s a cheater!
THE CROWD OF HAPPY PLAYERS
headed off the field. That’s when Roxy
noticed that Harris wasn’t celebrating
with the rest of the team.
“Are you really so jealous of Zeke
that you can’t even be happy for him?”
she asked, walking over to Harris. “I’m
surprised at you, Harris. I really am.”
Harris looked away. He didn’t know
what to say.
I obviously can’t tell Roxy the truth,
he thought. I promised to keep Zeke’s
secret, even if it costs
me his friendship.
And I can’t celebrate Zeke’s cheating and
make it seem like I think it’s okay for
him to use his powers.
He remained silent.
Roxy rolled her eyes, and stormed
off with saying anything else.
Harris met up with his parents in
the bleachers.
“What a great win for the Chargers!”
his mom said excitedly. “You played
so well! And we’re so happy for Zeke.
He’s fitting in and everyone on the
team seems to really like him.”
“He did good, yeah,” Harris said, as
they all walked to his parents’ car.
“You don’t seem all that happy
about the game,” his dad said.
“No, I’m happy,” Harris said. “I’m
glad our team won the game and
I’m glad Zeke did okay.”
“Honey, are you sure you’re okay?”
his mom asked.
“I’m fine, Mom,” Harris said.
I can’t talk to anyone about what’s
really bothering me, he thought. Anyone,
that is, except Zeke!
After dinner that evening, Harris
decided to try to talk to Zeke. He went
next door to his house.
“Hello, Harris,” said Zeke’s father,
Xad, answering the door.
“It is nice to see you,” said Zeke’s
mother, Quar. “We are very glad that
you have taught Zeke all about bases
and balls.”
“Yes, he likes this game very much,”
added Xad.
Harris smiled and nodded, then
walked over to his friend. He found
Zeke, fingertips on the sides of his
head, mind-projecting his homework
onto a big screen that hovered above
a desk.
“Are you here to tell me to stop
using my powers again?” Zeke asked,
turning away from the screen.
“I’m here because you’re my friend,”
Harris replied. “And I still think you’re
not playing fair.”
“I’m confused,” Zeke said. “My
understanding of cheating, as people
on Earth use the term, is breaking the
rules. I didn’t break any rules.”
“Well, you’re not actually breaking
a rule, because there is no rule about
aliens using their powers. How could
there be?” Harris asked.
“You have never had a problem with
me using my powers before when I was
careful—like when I saved the camper
who fell out of a tree at Beaver Scouts
camp. Or when I used my powers to
avoid getting hit by a sack of flour at
the costume contest. Why is this any
different?” Zeke asked.
“I’m not sure,” Harris said. “I just
know that it is.”
“I’ll be very careful, Harris. No one
will find out,” Zeke said.
Harris headed home, frustrated
and worried more about his friendship
with Zeke than about Zeke using his
powers.
Over the next few games, Zeke
continued to use his powers. He
pitched great and got hit after hit. The
Chargers kept winning. He quickly
became the most popular player on the
team. He teammates even nicknamed
him “Superstar.”
Everyone was thrilled. Everyone
except Harris.
I’ve never been so miserable about my
team winning games, Harris thought.
And I don’t know what to do about it!
HARRIS CONTINUED TO WORRY
about the future of their friendship.
One afternoon, on the ride home
following another Chargers victory,
Harris’s parents surprised him.
“How would you like to go to see
the Newtown Knights?” his mom said,
holding up a handful of tickets.
The Newtown Knights were the
local professional minor-league team.
Many players from the Knights went
on to play in the major leagues. Their
stadium was just a few miles from
where Harris lived.
“Wow!” Harris said, smiling for the
first time in days. “That’s so cool!”
“We’ve loved taking you to see the
Knights ever since you were little,” his
mom said.
“That’s where I learned to love
baseball!” Harris replied, feeling his
mood lifting for the first time in
a while.
“And we got enough tickets for Roxy
and Zeke to come, too!” his dad added.
Harris’s mood sank again. He felt
nervous. He really hadn’t spent much
time with Zeke lately, apart from on
the field.
“Great,” he said half-heartedly.
About a week later, Harris, Roxy,
and Zeke piled into the backseat of
Harris’s parents’ car. His mom and
dad rode up front.
“I can’t wait to see Dylan Williams,”
Roxy said. “He’s my favorite player.”
“Why do you like Dylan Williams
so much?” Zeke asked.
“Well, he has the most home runs
in the league,” Harris jumped in. “He
steals lots of bases, and he’s a great
shortstop. That’s why Roxy likes him,
since she plays shortstop, too.”
“That’s true,” Roxy added. “But I also
like him because he’s not a cheater.”
Zeke’s eyes opened wide. He looked
past Roxy, who sat between the two
boys, right at Harris. Could he have said
something to Roxy? Zeke wondered.
Harris’s shocked expression told
Zeke that he hadn’t said anything to
Roxy. No matter how upset Harris
may have been, he would never betray
Zeke’s trust by revealing his secret.
“What do you mean by that?”
Zeke asked Roxy.
“A few players around the league
were caught cheating,” Roxy explained.
“Some stole the pitching signs from
the other team so the batter knew what
pitch was coming. Some pitchers were
caught throwing spitballs, which is
illegal. And some even took steroids.”
“Steroids?” Zeke asked.
“It’s something the league banned
that makes players unfairly strong,
no matter how hard the other players
exercise and practice.”
Harris saw Zeke’s expression
change. He could see him thinking
deeply about what Roxy just said.
They arrived at the stadium and
entered the ballpark. The sight of the
green field that greeted fans as they
walked into the baseball stadium
brought smiles to Harris’s and Roxy’s
faces.
Even Zeke, seeing a professional
baseball stadium for the first time,
was moved by the sight—the lights
shining brightly on the field, the buzz
of the crowd, and the smells of hot
dogs, pretzels, and peanuts.
“Snack time!” said Harris.
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“Price’s Pretzels!” Roxy shouted.
“Price’s Pretzels?” asked Zeke.
“It’s a ballpark tradition,” explained
Roxy. “Come on. We’ll show you.”
The three friends hurried to the
concession stand. They each bought a
huge pretzel.
“I have never had a pretzel before,”
said Zeke.
Harris covered his pretzel with
mustard. Roxy smothered hers with
cheese instead.
“It’s best with mustard,” said Harris.
“No way!” said Roxy. “It’s much
better with cheese!”
Zeke stared at his pretzel, then he
looked at the container of mustard
and the tub of cheese. He squeezed
mustard all over his pretzel, then
dumped half the tub of cheese on top
of that and took a bite.
“Mmm, I like pretzels,” he said with
his mouth full.
Roxy and Harris laughed and they
all headed to their seats.
The Knights took the field. Roxy
jumped to her feet and cheered as
Dylan Williams trotted out to his
position.
“PLAY BALL!” shouted Harris’s dad.
THE FIRST BATTER HIT A BALL
sharply on the ground toward
shortstop. Dylan Williams dashed to
his left, dove toward second base, and
stuck out his glove. He snagged the
ball, then popped back up to his feet.
He turned and fired the ball to first
base in time for the out.
“Yeah, Dylan!” shouted Roxy. “You’re
the best!”
In the bottom of the inning, Dylan
lined a ball that dropped in for a hit.