Stealing Home
Page 8
Jesus still didn’t say a word. The silence stretched for a long moment, then Joey said quietly, “Don’t leave, okay? I . . . I want you to stay here the whole year.”
Jesus finally looked at him. He searched Joey’s face, then slowly nodded. “All right,” he said. “I stay.”
“Great! And Jesus, I’m sorry about —”
“Is okay.”
“You sure?”
“I sure.” There was a long silence. “But only one thing . . .”
“What?”
“I no like this name, ‘Doctor J.’ I no doctor. My name Jesus. Why they call me this ‘Doctor J.?’”
“They’re gonna call you whatever they want, man,” Joey told him with a shrug. “But I promise you, I’m always gonna call you by your name. Jesus. Because you’re fine with me just the way you are.”
Jesus smiled, reached out, and put a hand on Joey’s shoulder. “After one year, when I go back, you come visit my country and stay with my family. My country very beautiful. Much good béisbol also.”
Joey smiled and wiped the dried tears off his face with his sleeve. “Yeah?”
“Yes. But I think in Nicaragua, we call you José, sí?” Jesus reached out and ruffled Joey’s hair, and the two boys burst out laughing.
“Come on,” Joey said. “Let’s go inside and get you unpacked.”
13
Saturday afternoon was the big game with the Twins. With both teams’ records at 7–1 (same as the Orioles, whose lone loss had been to the Marlins), the winner of today’s game was guaranteed a spot in the best-of-three championship series.
When they saw Joey and Jesus approaching, the whole team ran over to greet them. “Hey, hey, Doctor
J.!” Larry Levine said, high-fiving Jesus. “Marlins are gonna win today!”
“Yo, Doc!” Charlie Morganstern said, clapping Jesus on the back. “How’s the arm?”
“Is good,” Jesus said, smiling. “I feel good today.” “Me too,” said Joey, though no one had asked him. He didn’t mind anymore if Jesus got all the attention. Didn’t mind a bit.
Nicky Canelo was there, too. “You guys make the championship series, and I’ll be ready for it,” he promised. “Just get us there, okay?”
“It’s not gonna be easy,” Pete Alessandra said. “Jordan’s sick, Jay Woo’s visiting his cousins in San Francisco, and Matt Lowe’s gone, of course . . .”
It was going to be a wounded, limping Marlins team that went to battle today. Coach Bacino gathered them all together. “I’m gonna need maximum effort from everybody,” he said. “Gallagher, you start on the mound. Jesus, I know you’re a lefty — but can you play shortstop?”
“Sí, I play good,” Jesus said, and everyone laughed. “I’ll bet you do,” Pete said.
“Modest, too,” Charlie joked.
“We’ll reverse it after three innings,” Coach went on.
“What about center field?” Joey asked.
The coach shrugged. “I guess it’s you, Levine.”
“Me?” Larry pointed to his own chest. “Are you sure?”
“Hey,” the coach said sternly. “No joking around. There’s nobody else. I need you to give me a good game out there today. Can you do it?”
“Uh, sure,” Larry said, sounding less than convinced.
The game began, with Joey on the mound and Jesus anchoring the infield at short. Knowing that his outfield was suspect, Joey tried to keep his pitches low so he’d get a lot of ground balls. This worked well for the first two hitters. Then Damon Krupp came up to the plate.
Joey flashed back to that first day in the school cafeteria, when Damon had taunted Jesus and later doused Joey’s shirt with chocolate pudding. It made Joey mad just thinking of it. And thinking of it must have caused his arm to shift just slightly, because on the first pitch, Joey uncorked a fastball that hit Damon squarely on the behind.
“Hey!” he shouted angrily. “He did that on purpose!” He threw down his helmet and bat and started walking toward the mound.
Joey panicked, frozen in place. Damon was much, much bigger than he was, but if he ran, everyone would laugh at him. So he just stood there, too scared to even raise his fists in self-defense.
“Yo!” the umpire shouted, racing out in time to catch Damon just before he reached Joey. “Yo, chill, okay? Just take your base now.”
Damon, still staring at Joey, walked slowly to first, limping slightly and rubbing his behind. Joey blew out a relieved breath and turned to face the next Twins hitter. Only now his heart was beating so hard and so fast that he couldn’t put the ball over the plate. He wound up walking the next two batters, loading the bases.
Coach Bacino ran out to the mound. “Hey, take it easy, okay?” he told Joey. “Just calm down and throw strikes.”
“I can’t!” Joey said. “I’m trying, okay? It just isn’t happening.”
“Look, forget about the kid you hit, Gallagher. That’s over. You’ve got two outs. Concentrate and let them hit the ball. You’ve got fielders behind you.”
Joey wound up slowly and aimed for the center of the plate. He threw a slow change-up, but the batter wasn’t fooled. He hit a long fly ball to center field. Larry Levine looked up, shaded his eyes with his mitt, and then threw up his hands, indicating he’d lost the ball in the sun.
Ellis Suggs tried to run over and make the play, but he was too late. By the time he picked up the ball and threw it back in, two runs had scored, and the hitter was on second with a double that should have been the third out.
Joey got the next hitter to ground to short. Jesus made the throw to first base to end the inning, but now it was 2–0, Twins. Joey and the Marlins had dug themselves a big hole to climb out of.
Now they got to see why the Twins were a winning team. Their pitcher was nearly six feet tall and threw so fast that the ball was a blur. The Marlins went down swinging one after the other — even Jesus.
For three innings, they went hitless, managing just one walk. On the other side, Joey held the Twins scoreless — except for Damon Krupp, who hit a monster home run off Joey his second time up. He practically walked around the bases, pointing at Joey and talking trash.
“Hey, you no talk like that,” Jesus said as Damon passed him on his way around the bases. “Is no nice.”
“Shut up, you Spanish fly,” Damon shot back, giving Jesus a little push. The umpire had his back turned and didn’t see it, but Coach Bacino did. He raced down the bench, yelling in vain for Damon to be tossed from the game.
Jesus took over the pitching duties in the fourth inning, but he, too, seemed rattled by Damon’s actions. He gave up three hits and a run before settling down to retire the side.
It was now the bottom of the fourth inning, and the new Twins pitcher took the mound. He didn’t throw as fast as their first pitcher, but his ball had a deceptive movement to it that made it hard to hit. The Marlins got two men on base, but they failed to score when Huey Brewster’s long fly ball was run down and caught by the left fielder.
The fifth inning began with the Marlins down, 4–0. The first batter up in the inning was Damon Krupp, and he started right in again with the trash talking. “Hey, Jesus!” he yelled to the mound, pronouncing it “GEE-zus.” “If I pray hard enough, will you throw me a meatball?”
“Shut up, punk!” Joey yelled back from his shortstop position.
“No, you shut up,” Damon shot back. “You nailed me once already. You looking for a little payback?”
“Play ball!” the umpire ordered.
Jesus threw a fastball inside, and Damon jumped back to get out of the way. “That’s it,” he said as he charged the mound. “I’m gonna make a Spanish omelet out of you.”
“Hey!” Joey yelled, throwing down his mitt and running to protect Jesus. He barreled into Damon just before Damon reached Jesus. Both boys went down in a heap, with Joey and Damon pummeling each other furiously and everyone else trying to pry them apart.
“Break it up! Break it up!” the umpire
shouted. “You’re both out! Ejected!”
“You leave him alone,” Joey growled, feeling the pain everywhere.
“What do you care, you dweeb?” Damon asked, wiping the blood from his nose. “What is he, your brother or something?”
Joey nodded. “Yeah. That’s right. He’s my brother, okay?”
Damon shook his head, dusted himself off, and headed for the bench. Joey did the same.
Jesus ran after him. “Joey!”
Joey stopped to look back at him. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
Joey smiled. “Never been better.”
Coach Bacino wasn’t smiling, though. “Great. You got yourself kicked out of a crucial game. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
Joey didn’t answer, but the truth was, he was proud of himself. He’d stood up for his “brother,” and if he’d had it to do all over again, he would have done exactly the same thing. “Come on, Jesus!” he yelled. “Win this one for us!”
Jesus looked at him and nodded. “No worry, amigo. I win it for you.” With that, he proceeded to strike out the side one-two-three, fooling the Twins hitters with his dazzling windup and deceptive delivery.
In the bottom of the fifth, Jesus was in the middle of a Marlins rally. Larry Levine, of all people, got it started with a one-out single that he dribbled into noman’s-land between the pitcher and the first baseman. Ellis Suggs walked. Jesus came up with one out and two men on, and launched a line shot into left field. Two runs scored, and Jesus came around later on a two-out single by Charlie Morganstern. The team managed two more walks, but they were stranded when Huey struck out.
They were only one run behind now, and Jesus made sure it stayed that way through the sixth by striking out the side for the second inning in a row.
Now it was time for the Marlins’ last licks — their last shot at securing a play-off berth out of this game.
Damon Krupp was hollering abuse at Jesus from the Twins bench for all he was worth.
“Hey, Coach!” Coach Bacino yelled to the Twins coach. “How about showing a little class, huh?” The Twins coach made a hostile gesture in return. “All right, that does it,” Bacino muttered. “These guys are going down. Come on, Pete, get us started.”
Pete obliged, smacking a hard single through the middle. Larry then struck out, but Pete managed to steal second on the last pitch. “That’s the way!” Coach Bacino yelled, clapping his hands. “Come on, team!”
Ellis Suggs got up to bat — last in the order and probably least likely of all the Marlins to get a hit. Except he did. He blooped one right over the third baseman’s head, and it bounced fair before kicking into foul territory.
Everyone was screaming at the top of his lungs as Pete took off for third. The throw got there a second before Pete, but the shortstop bobbled it, and Pete was safe.
Ellis, however, was still stuck halfway between first and second, and the alert Twins shortstop threw to second. The second baseman ran right at poor Ellis, who stood there, frozen in embarrassment and confusion, and was tagged for the second out of the inning.
Coach Bacino and the entire Marlins team let out a moan of agony. So close, and yet so far!
There was Pete, only a base away from tying the game, but they only had one out left. Jesus came to the plate, and Joey could see the fierce look of determination in his eyes. “Go, Jesus!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.
If Jesus heard, he gave no sign. Instead, he bunted the first pitch — a perfect bunt right up the first-base line. The catcher started after it, but when Pete broke from third base for home, the pitcher yelled for the catcher to cover.
The pitcher picked up the ball and flipped it to the catcher, but the tag on Pete was a fraction of a second too late. “Safe!” yelled the umpire, and the game was tied, 4–4. Not only that, but in the confusion, Jesus made it all the way to second!
“Attababy!” Coach Bacino yelled, clapping his hands.
“Hey, hey, Doctor J.!” Larry shouted. “Whoo-oo!” “My man!” Charlie called, clapping and whistling. Joey whooped and hollered. “Go, Jesus!” He looked across at Damon, who was kicking something in his frustration and fury.
Jesus took a long lead, and on the second pitch, he took off for third base. The catcher fired a strike to third, but Jesus was so fast and had gotten such a good jump that he made it safely under the tag.
Now all they needed was a hit. The batter wiggled the bat over his head and waited for the next pitch.
Only it never came. As the pitcher was about to go into his windup, Jesus broke for home. The pitcher reacted, faking a throw to third. When Jesus broke back, the pitcher fired to third base, and Jesus took off toward home again. The third baseman caught the ball and fired toward the catcher. Wild throw! As the catcher scrambled to find the ball, Jesus kept going. The catcher dug the ball out of the dirt, but it was way too late. Jesus crossed the plate safely, and the game was over!
“Did you see that?” Coach Bacino yelled to no one in particular. “He stole home!”
Jesus disappeared in a pile of happy Marlins, and Joey was in there too, yelling to beat the band along with the rest of them.
The Marlins were in the championship series, and Nicky Canelo would soon be back, making them nearly unbeatable. Even better, Jesus had won the game for them — and for him.
“You did it!” he told a happy Jesus as he pulled him from the bottom of the pile. “You really did it!”
“I say I win game for you,” Jesus said bashfully. “You see I no lie.”
“Way to go — brother,” Joey said.
“Thank you — brother,” Jesus replied. Joey knew that Jesus wasn’t his real brother, but that didn’t matter anymore. He felt like one, and that was the important thing. As the two boys hugged each other tightly, Joey knew that no one and nothing would succeed in turning them against each other ever again.
MATT CHRISTOPHER
The #1 Sports Series for Kids
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Baseball Flyhawk
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Baseball Turnaround
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Body Check
Catch That Pass!
Catcher with a Glass Arm
Center Court Sting
Challenge at Second Base
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Cool as Ice
The Counterfeit Tackle
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Dirt Bike Racer
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Dive Right In
Double Play at Short
Face-Off
Fairway Phenom
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Football Nightmare
The Fox Steals Home
Goalkeeper in Charge
The Great Quarterback Switch
Halfback Attack*
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Johnny Long Legs
The Kid Who Only Hit Homers
Long-Arm Quarterback
Long Shot for Paul
Look Who’s Playing First Base
Miracle at the Plate
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No Arm in Left Field
Nothin’ but Net
Olympic Dream
Penalty Shot
Pressure Play
Prime-Time Pitcher
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Return of the Home Run Kid
Roller Hockey Radicals
Run, Billy, Run
Run for It
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Shortstop from Tokyo
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Spike It!
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Supercharged Infield
The Team That Couldn’t Lose
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Too Hot to Handle
Top Wing
Touchdown for Tommy
Tough to Tackle
Wheel Wizards
Windmill Windup
Wingman on Ice
The Year Mom Won the Pennant
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