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Long Stretch At First Base Page 2
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“I’m going to get closer to that thing — whatever it is,” replied Kirby. “It can’t see us. It’s dark. Just don’t make a noise.”
“You sure you want to go out there?” said Bobby worriedly.
“That’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? To find out what’s eating Mom’s beans?”
“Think it’s an animal?”
“What else could it be?” said Kirby. “Okay. Quit talking now. If you’re too scared to come with me, stay inside the tent.”
Bobby wet his lips. “I’ll come,” he said.
They crawled out of the tent on their hands and knees. Bobby stayed as close as possible to Kirby and tried not to make any noise.
The big, dark object was about fifty feet away. Bobby could hear a soft, snipping sound coming from it, but he couldn’t make out what it was. As they got closer the strange noise grew louder. It sounded like the tearing of leaves, followed by a steady crunch, crunch!
Gradually the big shadow took shape against the velvet sky. Bobby could make out the body of something shaped like a horse. Only it wasn’t a horse, because the legs were too thin.
And then the animal raised its head and Bobby and Kirby stood stock-still and held their breaths in deep silence. On the head of the animal were antlers. They weren’t big, but there must have been six or eight points altogether. For a moment Bobby forgot being scared, and thought that this true-life picture was the most beautiful he had ever seen.
“It’s a deer!” cried Kirby softly.
The deer whirled its head toward the boys. The moonlight flashed against its big, saucer-wide eyes. Then it spun and bounded across the field, its short, white-tipped tail bobbing like a flag behind it.
The boys stood up. They watched it run. But the deer was soon out of sight behind the cherry trees and young oak saplings that grew beyond the edge of the garden.
“Well! So he’s the critter who’s been eating our beans!” exclaimed Kirby. “Bet he won’t come back here again!”
Bobby heaved a sigh and smiled. “Boy! Wasn’t he beautiful?”
“Sure was,” said Kirby. “I never dreamed it was a deer.”
“Me, either,” said Bobby. “Well, let’s get back to our tent. But I don’t think I’ll sleep any more tonight.”
They went back to the tent. Under the warm cover of the sleeping bag, Bobby said, “You weren’t scared at all, were you, Kirby?”
Kirby chuckled. “Not exactly scared. I just didn’t know what that thing was. I figured it must have been an animal, though. That’s all it could have been.”
Bobby smiled in the darkness. He was sure glad that he had Kirby for a brother. Kirby wasn’t afraid of anything. But it was funny that he couldn’t hit a baseball.
Later that night Bobby awakened again with a start. There was a steady patter against the tent. And the quiet night had turned into one filled with noises. The heavens snapped and boomed like giant firecrackers. Lightning lit up the night for a brief instant, and then thunder rolled across the sky.
Bobby shook with fright. He snuggled tighter under the covers.
“Bobby, are you awake?” Kirby’s voice came softly through the gloom.
It was pitch dark inside the tent, now. The heavy rain clouds had covered the moon and put a black curtain over the night.
“Yes.” Bobby felt better at once.
“You want to come in here with me?”
Bobby raised his head. “Is there room in there for both of us?”
“Sure, there is.”
Bobby thought a moment. Then he laid his head back down. “No, never mind. I can sleep better separate.”
“Okay,” said Kirby.
Bobby listened to the whip-like cracks of thunder, and imagined covered wagons rolling their way across a rugged, rocky trail like those he had read about in books and seen on television. He saw the flashes of lightning, and remembered a spotlight at an airport that he had once seen lighting up the night just like that. He listened to the rain. After a while his eyes grew heavy again. Pretty soon he didn’t hear the noises any more.
The next time Bobby opened his eyes he saw daylight through the canvas tent. He saw the slanting sides of the tent ripple like waves on a pool of water, and heard the rustle of leaves which meant that the wind was blowing. Birds chirped as though they were happy the rainy night was over.
He looked at Kirby. Kirby was still asleep. Bobby smiled. He rolled over on his back and went on listening to the noises.
After a while Kirby awoke. “Hi!” he said. “Oh, boy! It stopped raining! Come on! Let’s get dressed and tell Mom and Dad what we saw last night.”
They dressed quickly and ran down to the house. Terry hopped out of his doghouse, his short tail wagging fiercely. He strained at the end of the rope that held him and barked at the boys.
“Morning, Terry!” Bobby and Kirby greeted him. They both held him a few moments, then ran into the house.
“We saw what it was that was eating our beans and lettuce, Mom!” Kirby cried excitedly. “You’d never guess!”
“A woodchuck,” Mrs. Jamison guessed. Her cheeks dimpled with a smile.
“Nope,” said Bobby. “It was a deer.”
“A deer?” Mrs. Jamison’s brows lifted in surprise. “I would never have guessed!”
The boys told her all about their experience with the deer, and then about the heavy rain.
“I heard the rain, too,” said Mrs. Jamison softly. “I was worried about you.”
Bobby grinned proudly. “You don’t have to worry about us, Mom,” he said.
Ann came into the kitchen while they were eating their cereal. They told her all about their experience, too.
She said, “I’m glad I wasn’t out there. Not in that rain!”
Bobby laughed. “We were inside the tent. And we had a ditch around it so that the water couldn’t come in. It was impossible to get wet.”
After breakfast, Kirby went to his room and closed the door. Soon the notes of a saxophone boomed softly, and Bobby knew where Kirby would be for the next half-hour.
4
BOBBY got a pint jar with a metal cover from the basement, and went outside. He climbed up the hill near the tent and walked slowly through the rows of corn. Grasshoppers flitted through the air around him. Presently he found exactly what he was looking for — a praying mantis.
He plucked it up carefully, put it into the jar, and screwed on the lid. Then he carried it home proudly. He lifted the lid off the large glass terrarium he kept by the basement door and tipped the praying mantis gently in.
“I’ll call him Manty,” he said half aloud.
Bobby grinned happily as he looked at the other things he had collected. Spiders, grasshoppers, crickets, walking sticks, butterflies, and a little toad no bigger than his thumb. He had ants, too. They were in a glass ant-house he had made with his dad’s help.
Ann and Kirby thought that he was crazy collecting stuff like that, but he would rather do that than play baseball. He was a Cub Scout, and collecting insects was his favorite hobby. He had fun watching the insects move around and eat and do things with the dirt and leaves he had put with them.
Ann came down the steps. She sat on a chair in front of an old desk. She was wearing dungarees. A rubber band held her blond hair up in a pony tail.
“Kirby wants you to play baseball with him,” she said.
Bobby frowned. “Now? I don’t want to play now.”
“I told him the ground must be wet. But he said it isn’t.”
Bobby looked at her. “I wish Kirby wasn’t so crazy about baseball. It’s a wonder he practices his saxophone lessons.”
“How about you?” said Ann. “You’re crazy about those grasshoppers and walking sticks and some of those other awful-looking things. If you ask me, I think baseball is a lot more fun than that.”
“Not me,” said Bobby. He leaned over and peered at the little toad. He tapped the glass softly and grinned. “Hi, Toady,” he said.
Ann made a face. “He’s cute now. But wait till he grows up!”
Bobby laughed.
Somebody pounded on the basement door that led outside. Bobby looked and recognized Kirby through the glass window. “Bobby! Are you coming?”
Bobby started to say no, but Ann interrupted him. “Why don’t you go, Bobby? He loves to have you play. He’s bigger and older, but he knows that you can hit better than he can.”
Bobby rolled the words around in his mind. “Isn’t it funny about Kirby, Ann? Isn’t it funny how he can hardly hit?”
Ann shrugged. “I guess so. Go on. He’s waiting for you.”
“Okay.” He yelled to Kirby that he’d be right out. Then he took one last look at the terrarium, went upstairs and got his glove.
Kirby and Bobby walked to the field. They had to walk down the macadam road a short distance to get to it. The regular baseball diamond was in the opposite direction. It was beyond the creek, about a mile and a half away.
Terry tagged along at their heels. Ann went, too. She had Kirby’s old glove. Kirby had a brand-new first-base mitt. It was made differently than Tony Mandos’s mitt. Tony’s had a large leather web between the thumb and first finger.
Several boys were already at the field: Dave Gessini with his catcher’s equipment, Al Dakin, Jerry Echols, and Bert Chase. Al and Bert had their younger brothers there. They were in the outfield, chasing fly balls.
“Hi!” Jerry greeted. “Been waiting for you!”
“Let’s choose up sides,” suggested Kirby. “There’s enough of us here.”
“Okay,” said Dave.
There were ten players altogether, including Ann. She didn’t seem to care that she was the only girl. Sometimes Dave’s sister Mary and Bert’s sister Jean would come to the field and play also, because Ann did. But they weren’t here today.
Kirby and Dave were asked to be captains. They chose up sides. Dave had first choice. He picked Bobby. Ann was chosen before the two youngest boys because she was a good player, better than some of the boys. She got on Kirby’s team. She seemed glad because she walked quickly to Kirby’s side and smiled happily at him.
Bobby grinned. He didn’t really care whose team he was on. This was for fun, anyway.
Kirby’s team took last raps. Dave told his players what positions to play and in what order they were to bat. The scrub game started. The kids in the field shouted to their pitcher. “Come on, Jerry! Strike ’em out, kid! Throw ’em in there, Jerry!”
Bobby was second batter. He picked up a bat. While he waited for his turn to hit Dave came over to him.
“Did you hear that Tony might be the player picked on the All-Star team that’s going to Cooperstown?” he said. “Someone told me that the men who are picking the All-Stars have been looking us over.”
Bobby stared. “Tony Mandos?”
“Yep. That’s what everybody’s been saying. He’s the best in the league, everybody says.”
Bobby looked across the field at his brother Kirby. Kirby was standing with his hands on his knees near first base. He was yelling as if this was a real Grasshoppers League ball game.
“He’s not better than Kirby,” said Bobby seriously. “Kirby can play circles around him.”
“Oh, go on, Bobby. Kirby can’t hit the broad side of a barn.”
Bobby flushed. “But he can field,” he said. “And nobody can catch those pegs at first better than he can. And, anyway, they aren’t going to choose the players yet.”
Dave shrugged. “I’m just saying what I heard,” he said.
Crack! The sound of bat meeting ball caught Bobby’s attention. He saw the white pill fall behind second. Ann chased after it. She picked it up on a hop and pegged it to second base. The second baseman caught it easily.
“Nice throw, Ann!” Jerry yelled.
Bobby stepped to the plate. He hit the first pitch over short, a clothesline drive to the outfield. Bobby circled the bases for a home run.
He didn’t enjoy hitting that homer very much, though. After all, there were only two players in the outfield.
After a while there were three outs and Kirby’s team came to bat.
Because there weren’t enough players on each team, one of the rules was that a ball hit on the ground in the infield was an out.
The first two players grounded out. Kirby walked to the plate, and Bobby wished he would hit the ball. It wasn’t important that Kirby was playing on the opposite team. What was important — really important — was for Kirby to learn to hit the ball.
Kirby doesn’t know about an All-Star team going to Cooperstown, thought Bobby. He doesn’t know that Tony Mandos, the other first baseman for the Redbirds, will most likely go. There were a lot of guys who thought that Tony was the best first baseman in the league. Except Bobby. He’d take Kirby any day.
Kirby let a pitch go by. Then he swung hard at a pitch and missed.
“Don’t try to kill it,” said Jerry.
Another pitch came in. Kirby swung easier. Crack! The ball sailed over the right fielder’s head!
Bobby almost jumped with joy. What a drive! It went for a home run. It would have been a home run even in a real game.
The next time up Kirby knocked out another long drive. The ball didn’t travel as far as the first one did. But almost.
“I just swung easy!” Kirby kept saying to Bobby and Ann after the game. “Maybe that’s the secret!”
He had never been so happy in his life.
Bobby’s heart swelled with pride. He told Kirby what Dave had told him, that an All-Star team was going to Cooperstown. And that everybody thought that Tony Mandos might be picked to go.
A cloud came over Kirby’s face.
“Tony’s good,” he said. “Maybe he is the best in the league.”
Bobby looked at Kirby, and then at Ann. His lips quivered.
Suddenly he cried out, “That’s not true, Kirby! You’re better than Tony is! Much better! You’ll beat him out! Just wait and see!”
5
ON FRIDAY the Redbirds played the Seals.
The first inning went scoreless for both teams. In the second inning Dave Gessini singled through short. Mark Donahue fanned. Jerry Echols hit a long fly to left that was caught for the second out.
Kirby came to bat. He swung easy at the first pitch. Missed. He let a strike go by, then a ball. Then he swung easy again, and struck out.
Bobby watched Kirby trot, head bowed in shame, toward first base. Don’t give up, Kirby! the cry went through Bobby’s mind. You’ll beat out Tony! You will!
The Seals got a man on in their bottom half of the second inning. A sacrifice bunt put him on second.
Cappie became nervous again. He stepped off the mound, picked up some dirt in his hand, and dropped it. He nodded at the signal from Dave Gessini, stretched, and delivered.
“Ball one!”
“Ball two!”
At short, Bobby shook his head. Cap-pie never seemed to pitch very well when the pressure was on.
Cappie put over a strike, then threw two more balls, giving the batter a free ticket to first. Now there were two men on and one away.
Crack! The ball sailed over second for a double, driving in the two runners. The next Seal hitter socked a hard, bouncing grounder between short and third. It looked sure to be a hit. The runner on second made a beeline for third.
Third baseman Mark Donahue plunged after the ball. He couldn’t quite reach it. Bobby raced back beyond the edge of the dirt and onto the grass. He ran as hard as he could, his eyes on the high-hopping ball. Just as the ball started to bounce past him he stuck out his gloved hand, and caught the ball. He stopped, and heaved the ball to first.
Bobby saw his peg going wide. Kirby would never reach that ball. Never.
But Kirby stretched his long legs, the point of his toe touching the edge of the bag. His right arm reached far out. A split second later the ball struck the pocket of his mitt and stuck there as if glued.
The crowd cheered. Hor
ns tooted. And Bobby’s heart went back where it belonged.
Boy! Only Kirby could catch a wild peg like that!
That play must have helped Cappie’s nerves, because he struck the next man out.
Cappie led off in the top of the third. He poled a long fly to center field. He was almost on first base before the ball came down. A sad groan broke from the throats of the Redbirds fans as the fielder made the catch.
Bobby came up and did something he had never done before. He hit four foul tips in a row to the backstop screen. He stepped away from the plate and grinned.
The people laughed and yelled at him to “Straighten one out!”
Then whiff! Bobby went down swinging!
He shook his head and smiled as he carried the bat to the rack. Well, a guy had to strike out sometime. Even the clean-up men on major league teams struck out, didn’t they?
Coach Barrows put in Bert Chase to pinch-hit for Al Dakin. Bert knocked out a single. Toby blasted a grounder to short which struck the shortstop’s left foot and bounced high into the air. Bert made it safely to second, and Toby to first. The scorekeeper counted it as a hit, a ball “too hot to handle.”
Bobby relaxed back in the dugout. He crossed his arms and watched Jim Hurwitz go to the plate. The Redbirds had a chance now to score a run or more. Jim was their clean-up hitter. He was big and could hit a ball farther than anybody else on the team. The Seals were leading, 2–0. A home run would put the Redbirds ahead, 3-2. But even one run would help.
Jim swung two bats back and forth across his shoulders. He finally tossed one back to Dickie Jacobs, the mascot, then stepped into the batter’s box.
Sam Wood, the red-headed southpaw for the Seals, was very careful with his pitches to Jim. He must have tried hard to cut the corners with his first three pitches. But he missed each time for a count of three balls. Then he threw one down the middle, and Jim swung.
Crack! The ball sailed out to left field. It curved over the fielder’s head, struck the fence and bounced back. The fielder picked it up and pegged it in.
Both runners scored, and Jim stopped on third for a triple. With the score tied, Dave Gessini came up. He hit a hot grounder down the third-base line which went foul by inches. Then Wood threw three balls in succession, making the count three and one.