Catcher with a Glass Arm (4 page)

“Meow!”
said Midnight. He hesitated awhile, then trotted in after them.

“Look at that,” said Johnny.

He was shining the flashlight against the wall. Into the flat surface of a huge rock were carved pictures of a tepee and of
a
Native American chief. Jody wondered how long those had been there. Maybe scientists knew, he thought. Or those people who
studied Native American lore.

They walked farther in. I wonder how far he’s going, Jody thought.

“Scared?” asked Johnny.

“No,” said Jody. “Why should I be scared?”

He was scared, but he wasn’t going to let Johnny know it. Not for one second.

Suddenly his left foot slipped on a slimy rock. He fell to his knee and let out a cry. Johnny turned, flashed the light on
him, then on the rock beside him.

Jody’s heart flipped. Not a foot away from him was a pool of water. The water was about four feet below the floor of the cave.
It looked deep and dangerous. Jody shuddered as he rose slowly to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” said Johnny. “I knew the pool
was here somewhere, but I didn’t see it either. We’ll go to the falls, then turn back.”

Jody soon heard the hum coming from farther inside the cave. They walked on for another fifty feet, the hum of the falls growing
louder all the time. And then Johnny shone the flashlight straight ahead, and Jody saw the falls. The water looked like a
huge white curtain. He couldn’t see the bottom of it. From where they stood all they could see was the spray that leaped up,
and all they could hear was its thundering noise.

The whole thing was creepy. Jody felt goose bumps on his arms.

They started back, walking side by side now. Johnny talked almost all the way back, telling about the Native Americans and
how they had fought the pioneers, and about Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett.

At last Jody saw the round hole of daylight
ahead. A little while later they were out of the cave.

“Aren’t you glad you came with me?” Johnny said with a smile.

“Sure am,” replied Jody, smiling back. “Sometime I’m going again.”

Just then he saw Midnight scooting back into the cave.

“Midnight!” yelled Jody. “Come back here!”

“He’s chasing a rat or something,” said Johnny. “I saw it run ahead in front of him. Don’t worry. He’ll be back.”

They waited. After a few minutes Midnight didn’t come back, and Jody became worried. Was it really a rat Midnight had chased,
or was it something else?

“I’m going in after him,” he said.

“Well, I’m not,” said Johnny. “I don’t have any love for cats. Here. Take my flashlight. I’ll wait for you out here.”

Jody took the flashlight and went into the cave. “Midnight!” he called. “Midnight! Come here, pal!”

Midnight didn’t come.

Jody walked farther into the cave. Every few seconds he Would call out Midnight’s name. At last he heard an answer:
“Meow! Meow!”

“Midnight!” Jody cried. “Midnight! Come here!”

Still Midnight did not come. But Jody kept hearing him.

And then Jody started running forward. He knew what had happened.

He reached the pool, shone the flashlight into it. There was Midnight, unable to get out. And there was another animal. It
looked like a rat, but Jody wasn’t sure.

“Midnight!” Jody scolded. “See what happens when you run away from me?”

He got on his knees and reached down. He stretched his arms as far as he could, but he couldn’t reach far enough.

“Midnight!” sobbed Jody. Tears burned in his throat. “I can’t reach you!”

J
ody pushed himself to his knees. A lump filled his throat. He swallowed, but the lump remained.

Midnight sure had gotten into a mess this time! But it wasn’t all his fault. He liked to chase mice and other animals that
were smaller than he was. This time he had gone too far.

How was Jody going to get his cat out of that pool? There was a wall all around it. The water flowed in through a deep narrow
crack in the rock floor, and it flowed out through a deep narrow crack. It was impossible
for Midnight to crawl out by himself. He tried, but he kept sliding back into the water.

What was worse, Jody could not get him out either.

I can’t leave him there!
Jody thought.
I can’t let him drown! But how am I going to get him out? If I ran back for a net, he’d be drowned by the time I got back!

A net? Suddenly the thought gave him another idea. His sweater!

His hands trembled as he laid the flashlight on the dry rock floor beside him and hurriedly slipped off his sweater. Then,
while he held the flashlight in one hand, he leaned over the edge of the pool again and held the sweater down with his other
hand.

“Come here, Midnight,” he pleaded softly. “Come here, pal. Grab hold of my sweater.”

Midnight was still swimming around, his
black fur matted against him like a shiny coat.

Jody kept calling to him to grab hold of the sweater. Midnight did not seem to hear him. Or maybe he didn’t understand.

“Midnight, listen to me. Put your claws into my sweater. It’s the only way, Midnight. The only way. Please!”

Midnight was clawing at the wall at Jody’s left. He fell back and tried again, a little closer to Jody this time. Again he
fell back, his head going under the water so that for a moment he was completely out of sight. Once more his head popped up,
and he began swimming hard to keep afloat.

“Midnight! Here, pal!” Jody flashed the light onto the sweater.

Midnight looked at the sweater. He swam toward it, sank one claw into it. Then he sank another claw into it. Jody felt the
sweater stretch. He grabbed a stronger hold of it and slowly began to pull it up, with Midnight clinging on.

“Just a little more, Midnight!” he whispered. “Hang on a little more!”

A moment later he put his left arm around his cat and lifted him into his arms.

“Midnight! My pal!” he cried. He hugged the cat tenderly to him while his heart spilled over with joy. “Come on! Let’s get
out of here!”

He carried Midnight out with him.

When he reached the outside Jody returned the flashlight to Johnny and began drying off Midnight with his sweater. Johnny’s
eyes were like marbles as he looked at the cat.

“What happened to him?” he asked.

“Chased a rat right into the pool,” said Jody.

Johnny looked at the front of Jody’s shirt and pants. “You’re soaked,” he said. “Did you have to pull him out?”

“I tried, but I couldn’t reach him,” Jody said. “Then I pulled him out with my sweater.”

Johnny stared at him. He didn’t say anything for a long time, even when Jody started down the hillside, Midnight trailing
at his heels.

On their way into town they met Moonie, Duane, and Frank. The boys wanted to know where Jody and Johnny had been, and Johnny
told them. Then he told them about Jody’s cat chasing a rat or something into the cave and right into the pool, and how Jody
saved the cat by pulling it out with his sweater.

The boys laughed. They thought it was funny. Jody didn’t want to hear any more about it, and started to walk away.

“Why did you have to laugh?” Johnny Bartho snapped angrily. “Would you have thought of using your sweater to save a cat? I
probably would have let it drown. You probably would have, too!”

Jody turned and stared at Johnny. He couldn’t believe that it was Johnny Bartho talking like that about him and Midnight.
Johnny Bartho, Moonie Myers’s best friend!

“Cats!” jeered Moonie. “I wouldn’t give a nickel for one!”

Jody flushed. He looked directly into Moonie’s eyes.

“I’m glad you said that, Moonie. You don’t deserve a cat. You don’t deserve any kind of pet!”

Jody spun and walked hurriedly away. He felt good that he had told Moonie off.

There was batting practice at 5:30. Coach Fisher was throwing. His pitches were not
always down the groove—some of them were wide, some were inside. Jody was batting. He took a cautious step back with his right
foot from each pitch.

“Stay in there, Jody,” said the coach. “You’re putting that right foot in the bucket.”

“Sure he is!” said Moonie loudly from near first base where he was playing catch with Johnny Bartho. “He’s scared! Why don’t
you get up closer and toss the ball underhand to him, Coach? Maybe he’d hit it then!”

Jody’s face turned a deep red.

This was the first time Moonie had spoken to him since this morning. He knew Moonie was sore. Moonie had not liked it when
Jody had told him that he did not deserve a pet.

Jody also figured that Moonie was jealous because Johnny Bartho had taken him and
Midnight into Indian Cave. Now Moonie was trying to get even. He wanted to shame Jody in front of Coach Fisher and everyone
else.

But Coach Fisher was looking hard at Moonie. “One more wisecrack like that, Moonie,” he said, “and you’ll turn in your uniform.
Never let me hear you talk like that again.” He turned back to Jody. “Okay, Jody. Stick in there. Step into the pitch, not
away from it. You’ll gain your confidence again. Don’t worry.”

He stepped on the mound and threw. Jody held his jaws firmly together as he watched the ball come in. He tried to forget about
Moonie and think only of Coach Fisher’s words:
Step into the pitch, not away from it.

He did just that. The ball came close, but as it started by him he saw that there was
still plenty of space between it and him. He was sure it could cut the inside corner of the plate for a strike if he didn’t
swing.

He swung.
Crack!
The bat met the ball solidly and sailed over first baseman Birdie Davis’s head for a clean hit.

“Thataboy, Jody!” said the coach. “Just step into it. That’s all you have to do.”

O
ld-Timers’ Day! The day when men who used to play baseball, but were too old to play any more, got two teams together and
played each other. The money that was donated would be for bats, balls, and other needed equipment for the Little Leaguers.

It was July 28, Saturday afternoon. The weather was ideal for baseball. The field was in excellent shape. Several men, including
Jody’s father and Coach Fisher, had been working on it this morning.

“Make sure every stone is cleared away,
no matter how little it is,” Coach Fisher had said, laughing. “We can’t take a chance on bad hops!”

The bleachers were filled with fans. Many brought their own lawn chairs on which they could sit to watch the game comfortably.
A stand was set up near left field for ice-cold pop and hot dogs.

All the league teams were assembled at the game. They sat wherever they wanted to. Most of the Dolphins’ team were sitting
on the top seat of the bleachers behind first base. Jody was sitting next to Rabbit Foote, grinning happily. He hadn’t seen
Dad play baseball since that first Old-Timers’ Day game three years ago. And that was so long ago he could hardly remember
it.

He tried to pick out as many of the players as he could. He recognized Rabbit’s father and Terry McClane’s. But that was all.
He
didn’t know any of the other boys’ fathers. He saw Jim, too. Wonder what position he played?

Names were given to the teams. One was the Reds, the other the Blues. Jody’s father played on the Reds’ team.

The game started, and the crowd began yelling. Mr. Sinclair was on first. His uniform fit him like a glove. Especially his
pants. But that wasn’t unusual. The uniforms were tight on most of the bigger men.

The first man up punched a looping single over second, and the crowd cheered. The second batter tried to lay down a bunt,
but fouled. Then he hit a high bouncing grounder to short. The shortstop caught the hop, threw it to second for the force-out,
and the second baseman snapped it to first. A double play!

Mr. Sinclair really had stretched far out
for the throw, and Jody smiled. Dad really didn’t look bad there at all!

The third hitter clouted the pitch far out to center. The center fielder misjudged the ball, and the hitter got two bases.
He could have gone to third, but he was a big man, gray-haired, and he looked too tired to run any farther.

The crowd laughed and applauded him.

The next hitter was left-handed. He belted a grounder down to first. Mr. Sinclair caught it, made the put-out himself, and
half an inning was over.

Jody saw Jim run out to center field. The way he runs I bet he could cover a lot of ground even now, thought Jody.

The Reds came to bat. A single and an error gave them a chance to score. Rabbit Foote’s father was third hitter, and he clouted
the pitch for a double. He was short and fast—just like his son Rabbit—and if
the second runner had not stopped on third Mr. Foote would have gone on to third himself.

Two more runs came in, and Mr. Sinclair came to the plate. He let a strike go by, then belted a long fly to left. It was mighty
high. But the left fielder moved under it and caught it.

“Nice hit, anyway, Dad!” yelled Jody.

Jody was anxious to see Jim hit. He seemed to know a great deal about baseball. By the size of him, he might even drive one
over that left-field fence. But Jim didn’t get up to bat until the next inning.

There were men on second and third when he came to the plate.

“Come on, Jim! the fans yelled. “Knock those men in!”

The pitcher stepped on the mound, checked the runners, and delivered. The ball came in, chest-high. Jim, a right-hander,
made a motion to swing. Then he moved back from the plate.

“Strike!” said the umpire.

“Come on, Jim!” one of his teammates yelled. “Stay in there! It won’t hit you!”

The second pitch came in. Jim stepped back with his left foot again.

The crowd laughed. Rabbit Foote and some of the players laughed, too. Jody didn’t. He just sat there staring at Jim.

The umpire called the next two pitches balls. The next was a strike. Jim swung at it and missed it by a foot. You could tell
he was afraid of the pitch.

I don’t believe it!
thought Jody.
And he’s the one who keeps telling me not to be afraid!