My dad was in the stands, videotaping. My mom was yakking to another mother. And Maddie was grazing on dropped French fries.
Just like always.
The count quickly went to no balls and two strikes. Kevin wound up and fired. I took a mighty swing … and fouled it off.
Contact! That felt good.
Then Kevin threw me three straight balls. I stepped out of the batter’s box, thinking about how this was just like the last time I was up, in the World Series. I’d worked the count full from 0–2, then hit the epic pop-up to second base that won the championship.
Holy moly! Would I be the hero again?
Kevin checked the runner at third, stared in at me, then reared back and let fly. The pitch came. It looked outside. A walk! Awesome! I could go to first and let Kevin Kessler be someone else’s problem. I was totally good with that.
Only, the pitch wasn’t outside. It was on the outside corner. I watched it go by with a sinking feeling.
“Strike three!” yelled the umpire, who happened to be Alex Mutchnik’s older brother, Henry. I think he was smiling when he said it.
I trudged back to the dugout and threw my helmet.
“Easy there, Jack,” said the coach, Mr. Bonner, whose main claim to fame was that he could spit sunflower seeds farther than any human being alive.
“Sorry, coach,” I said.
I sat down on the bench. Other kids came over and said things to try and make me feel better. It was pretty clear I wasn’t a big deal anymore. I was just another kid who struck out. But as I looked around and watched everybody root for Ben Liscomb, who was up next, I realized something.
It felt great.
* * *
Then it was Friday. I got on the bus to go home, sitting in my usual seat: third row, window seat on the left. But one thing was different: the seat next to me was never empty anymore, because people always seemed to want to sit next to me.
That day, Alex Mutchnik decided to plop down.
I immediately grabbed my backpack before he could do anything to it, but it turned out he wasn’t interested in that.
“Can I ask you a question?” he said.
“I guess.”
He looked around the bus. “So, my parents are telling me that I have to do like some community service thing this summer, and maybe like take a class or something. I really don’t feel like doing any of that stuff. I just want to hang out and chill, you know? Like, the way you do. What should I tell them? Or better yet, do you think you could talk to them?”
I had to laugh. Alex Mutchnik, asking me for help!
“Listen Alex, I’d love to help you out, but maybe doing a little volunteer work this summer is a good idea. I do EMT training, you know.”
“You do? I thought you hated all that stuff.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t hate all that stuff. I just want to do things I want to do, that’s all. Volunteer work is cool as long as you do it, and not your parents.”
Alex looked at me, then decided he was done being nice to me. “Whatever,” he mumbled. Then he grabbed my backpack out of my hands and threw it onto the floor.
Just like old times.
* * *
The school bus headed for home, and it couldn’t get there fast enough. That night, Leo and Lucy were coming over for a marathon of Bruce Lee’s classic Hong Kong martial arts movies. Not only that, but after I’d told Cathy that our movie marathon was the reason I couldn’t go to the school dance, she’d decided to come too, and bring her brother Baxter. My dad was going to grill some burgers and dogs, my mom was going to make a salad that no one would eat, and Nana was going to make some of her legendary chocolate chip cookies.
“Why Bruce Lee movies?” Cathy asked, when I told her the plan.
“It was my dad’s idea. He thought I should get some use out of my Chinese-English dictionary before we gave it away,” I said.
Cathy thought about that for a second. “That makes perfect sense,” she said.
Using my jacket as a pillow just like always, I rested my head against the bus window and smiled, thinking about the night ahead. It was going to be completely perfect, because it combined all of my favorite things: cheeseburgers, movies, family, friends, and dessert.
And the couch.
In memory of Ellen Kellerman
1913–2012
“You bettah do.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like the following people to sit down and take a bow:
Everyone at Macmillan/Roaring Brook, who continue to amaze me.
Nancy Conescu, an early friend of Jack Strong’s.
Lauren Tarshis, who suggested I make Jack a friend of Charlie Joe’s.
Gina Green, who helps me deal with my own overscheduled schedule and keeps me sane in the process.
Brianne Johnson, who is always helpful and always cheerful.
Susan Cohen, for jumping into the fray.
Barbara Kellerman and Jonathan Greenwald, who never made me do anything I didn’t want to do. (Well, almost never.)
And Cathy Utz, who has sat next to me on the couch every night for twenty-five years.
Text copyright © 2013 by Tommy Greenwald
Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Melissa Mendes
Published by Roaring Brook Press
Roaring Brook Press is a division of Holtzbrinck Publishing Holdings Limited Partnership
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
mackids.com
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Greenwald, Tom.
Jack Strong takes a stand / Tommy Greenwald; illustrated by Melissa Mendes. — First edition.
pages cm
Summary: Tired of being forced to participate in sports and take extra lessons and tutoring to become well-rounded in anticipation of college, middle-schooler Jack Strong stages a sit-in on his couch until his parents ease up.
ISBN 978-1-59643-836-1 (hardback) — ISBN 978-1-59643-838-5 (ebook)
[1. Family life—Fiction. 2. Strikes and lockouts—Fiction. 3. Middle schools—Fiction. 4. Schools—Fiction. 5. Humorous stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.G8523Jac 2013
[Fic]—dc23
2013001325
eISBN 9781596438385
First hardcover edition, 2013
eBook edition, September 2013
Jack Strong Takes a Stand Page 11