Read The Curse of the Campfire Weenies Online
Authors: David Lubar
The Curse of the Campfire Weenies (3 page)
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I
t was the bottom of the ninety-seventh inning. We were down by one, 57 to 56. I was up next. Tying run on third, winning run on second. I watched as Kent swung too early at a changeup. Strike three. One out.
t was the bottom of the ninety-seventh inning. We were down by one, 57 to 56. I was up next. Tying run on third, winning run on second. I watched as Kent swung too early at a changeup. Strike three. One out.
“Come on, Tucker,” Coach Wagner called from his spot near first base.
I looked at him for some kind of sign. Hit away for the win or sacrifice for the tie? I was pretty sure I could drive Lucas home from third. I might be able to hit a hard grounder and bring Miguel home, too. A win would be good. Wouldn't it?
As I settled down into my batting stance at the plate, I glanced at the scoreboard beyond the left-field fence. It stretched far into the distance. I could barely make out any innings below the thirties. The unplayed innings stretched off to the right.
“Strike!”
Dang. I had to focus. I couldn't let my mind wander.
I watched the next pitch come in high and outside. The one after that was also high.
I watched the next pitch come in high and outside. The one after that was also high.
Come on, give me one I can taste.
I knew he wouldn't walk me. That would load the bases. Which also meant he wasn't going to risk letting the count get to three and one. Sure enough, he fired a rocket at the upper inside corner of the zone. I halfway decided to swing for the fence, but caution won and I ended up hitting a hopper past first. I was thrown out, but the run scored.
I knew he wouldn't walk me. That would load the bases. Which also meant he wasn't going to risk letting the count get to three and one. Sure enough, he fired a rocket at the upper inside corner of the zone. I halfway decided to swing for the fence, but caution won and I ended up hitting a hopper past first. I was thrown out, but the run scored.
I looked at Coach Wagner. He nodded, but I couldn't tell whether he was really pleased.
“Good job,” Kent said when I got back to the bench.
“Thanks.” I watched Ethan walk up to the plate. “Maybe I should have gone for the win. What do you think?”
Kent shrugged.
“Hot dogs! Get yer red hots!”
I looked past the fence. A guy was walking by with a small pushcart. I loved hot dogs.
“Here!” I called.
He swung over. I had a couple bucks folded in my sneaker just for this. I traded them for a hot dog.
At the plate, Ethan hit a pop-up. It barely cleared the infield. The shortstop caught it, and the other team came in off the field to start the next inning.
“Come on,” Kent said.
“I'll be right there.” I gulped the hot dog in three bites. I hated to rush, but I couldn't take it to the field
with me. The last bite almost caught in my throat, but I managed to get it down without choking.
with me. The last bite almost caught in my throat, but I managed to get it down without choking.
“You are such a pig,” Kent said. He flashed me a grin. I didn't mind if he kidded me.
“You should talk.” I pointed to a ketchup splotch on his pants leg.
He looked down and frowned, then headed over to right field. I noticed he had a couple ketchup stains on his back, too. I jogged out to third base. Top of the ninety-eighth. I'd had at least a couple shots at breaking the tie. But I'd played it safe every time. I guess we all had.
They didn't score any runs that inning. Neither did we. They scored twice in the ninety-ninth inning, but we managed to tie it up again.
“This seems kind of special,” I told Kent as we headed into the field for the top of the one hundredth.
“Huh?”
“One hundred innings,” I said.
He shrugged. “So?”
“I don't know.” I looked around the field. Something was tickling the back of my mind. But this was no time to let my attention wander. I focused on the game. They managed to get one man on but weren't able to advance him. Thanks to a nice dive and throw, I made the third out.
When I came up to bat, I got to first on a walk. I looked at the coach to see if he wanted me to steal.
“Up to you,” he said.
I stayed put. After two outs, I made it to third on a strong grounder. If I'd stolen second earlier, the game would be over now. The next batter struck out.
Inning 101. I'd been sure something special would happen at 100.
When we came in for our ups, I asked Kent, “This game seem strange to you?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“What's the longest you've ever gone with extra innings?”
He frowned. “I don't know. This time, I guess.”
“I mean not counting this one.” I thought back. Games went ten or eleven innings. Maybe twelve. I wasn't sure what the pro record was, but I was pretty sure it was a lot less than one hundred innings.
“What's the difference?” Kent asked. “I could play all day and be happy.”
“Hot dogs!”
The guy with the cart was heading toward us.
Hot dogs.
I always ate them too fast. Choked them down. That's what my mom would say. Mom? I looked around again. The stands were empty. That was weird. My folks always came to my games.
Hot dogs.
I always ate them too fast. Choked them down. That's what my mom would say. Mom? I looked around again. The stands were empty. That was weird. My folks always came to my games.
“There's nobody in the stands,” I said.
Kent shrugged again. I looked at his back. The red splotches had flowed from dark holes. Bullet wounds.
I gasped. I guess I'd been holding my breath as I stared at Kent's back. I forced myself to search behind the wall
that protected me from my memories. I'd grabbed a hot dog before the game. Not this game. Another game. I was up in my room, getting my uniform on. I bit off a hunk and gulped it down as I bent over to lace my cleats.
that protected me from my memories. I'd grabbed a hot dog before the game. Not this game. Another game. I was up in my room, getting my uniform on. I bit off a hunk and gulped it down as I bent over to lace my cleats.
And realized I couldn't breathe. For an instant, I didn't understand what was wrong. Then panic flooded my body. My parents were downstairs, but I couldn't even make a sound. I tried to get out of the room. That's the last thing I remember.
I knew there was no use talking to Kent. He wasn't ready to remember. Whatever had happened to him, I think it was a lot worse than what happened to me.
But there was someone I could ask. I was leadoff batter in the 103rd inning. They hadn't scored. I got on first, which was just where I wanted to be. I didn't waste words. I might not be on base for long if Ethan got a hit.
I looked over at Coach Wagner. “Am I dead?”
He shook his head. “I don't think so. Not yet.”
“So how do I get out of here?” I watched Ethan head for the batter's box.
Coach Wagner sighed. “I was hoping you could tell me.” I noticed that his neck was bent at a strange angle. Instead of a regular belt, he was wearing a seat belt.
“We have to win or lose sooner or later. Right?”
“I hope so.”
I realized he didn't know any more than I did. But I had to do something.
Or did I? I loved playing ball. I could play forever. I
checked my sock. I had a couple bucks there. I'd always have money for hot dogs. Endless summer.
checked my sock. I had a couple bucks there. I'd always have money for hot dogs. Endless summer.
I glanced back at Coach Wagner. “I'm going to steal.”
“It's your call.”
“Can you help me?” He might not know all the answers, but he was a coach.
“Yeah. Take a lead.”
I moved away from the base and looked back at him.
“One more step,” he said. “Then wait for my signal.”
He let the first two pitches go. He gave me the signal on the third. I shot toward second and beat the throw.
Ethan dribbled a hit, and I made it to third. Marcus struck out. So did Seth. One more out, and my steal would become meaningless. We'd go into inning 104. And then 105, and eventually 1,000 and 10,000 and on and on.
No way. I loved baseball, but I needed more than that in my life. I watched the first pitch. A ball. As soon as the pitcher went into his windup for the next pitch, I tucked my head and ran like mad. I was going to steal home.
As I got within sliding distance of home plate, I heard the ball smack into the catcher's mitt. I dove for the plate, hoping I could avoid the tag.
An object, hard and round, slammed into my stomach with shocking force.
I tried to slide, but something was holding me up. No, not something. Someone.
My feet dangled. I felt a bunched fist plunge into my
gut again. The hot dog shot from my throat. I gulped air, feeling the dark mist swirl away as my brain drank oxygen.
gut again. The hot dog shot from my throat. I gulped air, feeling the dark mist swirl away as my brain drank oxygen.
Dad turned me around and stared at me. “Are you okay?”
I tried to answer, but my throat hurt. I nodded.
His face was pale. “I was so scared,” he said. “I thought I'd lost you.” Behind him, Mom stood speechless in the hallway.
“I'm here,” I whispered.
“Maybe we should skip the game,” he said.
I shook my head. “No. I want to play.” I'd be all right.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
As I sat on my bed and caught my breath, I thought about the game I'd left. I figured there'd be a sub for me. There were probably plenty of players. I wondered whether we'd won or lost. Or whether the score was still tied. But I was pretty sure it didn't matter. I didn't get home because I broke the tie. I didn't come back because we'd won or lost. I got home because I wanted it badly enough to do whatever I had to do to get here.
As I walked downstairs, I saw a news bulletin on television. There was a reporter standing in front of a hospital halfway across the country.
“Doctors say he just regained consciousness,” the reporter said. There was a small picture in the corner of the screen, with a caption under it.
Innocent bystander shot during holdup.
Innocent bystander shot during holdup.
“Glad you made it, Kent,” I whispered. I wondered how many more innings he'd had to go through.
“Ready to play a little ball?” Dad asked.
“Ready to play a lot,” I said.
M
om only lets me go online for an hour each day. “There are a lot of predators out there,” she's always saying. I know. The world is full of dangers. But I really need to meet some new people. And the Internet is so much better and faster than anything else.
om only lets me go online for an hour each day. “There are a lot of predators out there,” she's always saying. I know. The world is full of dangers. But I really need to meet some new people. And the Internet is so much better and faster than anything else.
I hang out at Dark DimenXion. That's a place for fantasy and horror fans. My name is Kirby12. But that's not my real name. I'm too smart to let personal information slip. My real name is Danny. Though the “12” part is sort of accurate.
I made good use of my hour yesterday. I have a new friend. His name is DarkFan43. He told me he's twelve, too. His mom doesn't let him go online very much, either. When I logged on just now, I was afraid he wouldn't be there. But he was. So we chatted. We have a lot in common. He likes all the same stuff I do.
I found out he lives in Milford. That's the next town
over from me. I didn't tell him the name of my town. I'm too smart for that. But I told him I lived near his town.
over from me. I didn't tell him the name of my town. I'm too smart for that. But I told him I lived near his town.
DarkFan43 :
I wish I could spend more time online.
I wish I could spend more time online.
Kirby12:
Me, too. It would be fun.
Me, too. It would be fun.
DarkFan43 :
Too bad we can't hang out.
Too bad we can't hang out.
Kirby12:
Yeah.
Yeah.
DarkFan43 :
Maybe we could meet somewhere.
Maybe we could meet somewhere.
Kirby12:
That would be cool.
That would be cool.
DarkFan43 :
How about the old quarry? Do you live near there?
How about the old quarry? Do you live near there?
Kirby12:
Yeah. Real close.
Yeah. Real close.
DarkFan43 :
Want to meet me there later today?
Want to meet me there later today?
Kirby12:
My mom won't let me go out.
My mom won't let me go out.
DarkFan43 :
She just doesn't want you to have any fun.
She just doesn't want you to have any fun.
Kirby12:
That's for sure.
That's for sure.
DarkFan43 :
Could you sneak out at night?
Could you sneak out at night?
Kirby12:
I might get in trouble.
I might get in trouble.
DarkFan43 :
Come on. Don't be such a baby.
Come on. Don't be such a baby.
Kirby12:
Okay. I'll try.
Okay. I'll try.
We decided to meet at the north entrance to the quarry, where the fence is broken, at 10:00. Mom would be busy then. I'd have no trouble sneaking out. The quarry is close enough for me to walk there. I couldn't wait to meet DarkFan.
I arrived earlyâaround 9:45âbut someone was already there, standing in the shadows away from the lights by the gate. I walked toward him but stopped when I was
still within the pool of light. I wanted to make sure he could see me clearly.
still within the pool of light. I wanted to make sure he could see me clearly.
“DarkFan?” I asked.
He nodded. “Kirby?”
“Yup.”
“I'm not twelve,” he said. “That was a teeny lie.”
I'd figured he wasn't a kid the first time we'd talked. Something about him didn't seem right. “I'm twelve,” I said. Then I smiled and added, “Centuries.”
He gave me a puzzled look. I could tell he wasn't worried. His heart was beating a bit fast, but it wasn't racing, yet.
“Thanks for coming.” I tilted my head in the light so he could see my fangs glisten. I love that part. Now his heart was racing. I tried to decide whether to end it quickly or chase him around the quarry for a while. Well, he did say he liked horror. So I guess I knew what his last ten minutes would be like.
He screamed and dashed for the street. I flew past him in a blur, then stopped so he ran into me. He screamed, fell, got up, then scrambled the other way.
I realize Mom doesn't think much of the Internet. But I like it. I can't imagine a better way to meet the right people. It's making the world a smaller place. And a nicer one.
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