Dugout Rivals (5 page)

M
rs. Hull pulled into the driveway and turned off the car lights.

“Come on, Jake, you’ve never seen my house,” Adam said as he bounced out of the car. “I want to show you my room.”

Jake got out of the car slowly and looked at the Hulls’ house. It was smaller than Jake’s. Large, overgrown bushes hid some of the windows and the grass on the front lawn was high.

“Wait just a minute,” Mrs. Hull said. “Could you boys help with the grocery bags?” Adam and Jake grabbed the two bags and Chad followed close behind as
they all walked up to the front door. “You’ll have to excuse the house,” Mrs. Hull said to Jake as she turned the key in the lock. “I haven’t had time to pick up.” She turned on a light and stepped into a messy kitchen. Dishes and glasses were piled in the sink and along the counter. The pale green refrigerator was covered with photos of Adam and Chad.

Adam’s mom set her purse down on the crowded counter and started to put the groceries away. She pulled a frozen pizza from one of the bags. “I’ll put this in the oven for you guys,” she said, as a large black dog bounded into the kitchen. Jake stepped back.

“Oh, that’s just Fenway,” she said. “Don’t worry, he’s very friendly. Adam, be sure to get him outside soon. I don’t want him to pee on the rug again.”

Adam scratched Fenway behind the ears. The dog’s large pink tongue slipped out of his mouth and his tail wagged. Jake took a half step forward and let the dog nuzzle his hand, then petted the dog’s head. Fenway licked his hand.

“What kind of dog is he?” Jake asked.

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Hull answered. “We got him from the pound.”

“He’s a mutt,” Adam said. “My dad calls him an all-American dog.”

“Why don’t you go show Jake your room, Adam?” Mrs. Hull suggested.

The boys walked through a small living room that had a television, a large couch, and two folding chairs. Down the hall, Jake saw two bedrooms next to each other.

“That’s my mom’s room,” Adam said, pointing. “And this is where me and Chad sleep.”

He flicked on the overhead light. Twin beds were pressed against opposite walls. A dresser with a pile of clothes on top was at one end of the room. Sports posters were taped to the walls. A rug with the helmets of all thirty-two National Football League teams covered the floor between the beds.

Coming up behind the boys, Mrs. Hull said, “Jake, you can sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor between the beds,” she said. “Or maybe Adam or Chad could give you his bed.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Adam offered quickly.

“I wanna sleep on the floor,” Chad whined.

Mrs. Hull held up her hands. “Maybe we should let Chad sleep in between you two. So what do you boys want to do tonight?”

“I figured we’d watch
Major League.
” Adam turned to Jake. “Ever seen it?”

“No.”

“It’s cool. Come on.”

“The pizza should be done soon. I’ll bring it to you as soon as it’s ready,” Mrs. Hull said.

A few minutes later, all three boys were sitting on the couch, watching the movie and eating pizza. Fenway lay in a ball on the floor and Mrs. Hull cleaned up the kitchen. Jake heard a loud knock on the door and looked up from the movie.

Mrs. Hull stopped working and glanced over at Adam. She pulled back a shade from the small window by the door. Letting out a long breath, she opened the door a crack. “What do you want?” she asked in a flat voice.

“Oh, this is a good part,” Chad said, pointing at the TV. But Jake could see that Adam was watching the door, not the movie. Mrs. Hull opened it wider. A tall man wearing a baseball hat and a gray sweatshirt stepped into the kitchen.

“Dad!” Chad shouted. “Is it next weekend?”

“No,” Mr. Hull said, smiling. “I just have to talk to your mother, okay?”

“Okay with me,” Adam answered with the same flat voice as his mother’s.

Mr. and Mrs. Hull sat at the kitchen table, talking. The boys kept watching the movie. Adam stared at the TV, but he wasn’t laughing.

Jake heard bits of the Hulls’ conversation above the movie.

“… what about me?”

“… who do you think is going to pay for this?”

“I told you, I didn’t want …”

Their voices grew louder, the harsh whispers clashing with the happy sounds of the movie.

“Keep your voice down,” Mrs. Hull said finally. “Adam has a friend over.” She glanced toward the boys. “Your dad and I are going out onto the back steps.”

Adam nodded. Mrs. Hull stepped out first. Mr. Hull looked back. “I’ll see you guys next weekend.”

“See you, Dad,” Chad said, waving.

“I’ll try to make one of your games this week, Adam,” Mr. Hull added.

“Okay,” Adam said. “See ya, Dad.”

Mr. Hull stayed in the doorway. “How’s the team doing, anyway?”

Adam brightened. “If we win tomorrow, we’ll be in the championship game.”

“Hey, that’s great,” Mr. Hull said, then stepped outside. The door closed, but Jake could still hear Adam’s parents’ voices above the movie. Adam grabbed a pillow off the sofa and pulled it tight across his chest.

The voices outside grew louder.

“… what if I say no?”

“I don’t care. I’ve made up my mind.”

“Have you talked to them?”

Jake looked over at Adam. His friend
quickly glanced away and pulled the pillow even tighter.

Mrs. Hull stepped back into the kitchen alone and called to the living room: “You boys go to bed right after the movie. Don’t stay up late, you have a game tomorrow. And remember to brush your teeth.”

Later, Chad lay in his sleeping bag on the rug between the two boys. He kept talking about the movie. Adam didn’t say much. “I’m pretty tired,” he said finally and turned toward the wall. “Good night.”

Jake drifted off to sleep but woke up a few hours later. He could hear the soft rhythms of Adam and Chad breathing in the darkness. The digital clock on the dresser said 1:38. Jake tossed back the covers and tiptoed carefully around Chad. He noticed there was a light still on in the living room.

Mrs. Hull sat on the couch. The television was off and Fenway was sleeping on the floor.

“Who is it?” Mrs. Hull asked as Jake stepped out of the bedroom.

“Just me, Mrs. Hull,” Jake said, peeking into the living room.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“I just woke up, that’s all,” Jake said. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Mrs. Hull looked at Jake with tired eyes. “I guess this house isn’t like your house,” she said.

T
he Red Sox ran toward the bench. “Come on, everybody, we can come back,” Coach Sanders said. “We’re only down one run.”

Jake glanced at the scoreboard beyond the center-field fence.

One run down in the bottom of the fourth,
he thought as he pounded his fist into his
glove.
If we come back and win, we’ll be in the championship game.

“Michael, Kyle, and then the top of the order,” Jake’s dad called.

Ryan sat down next to Jake. “No sweat, we’re gonna win,” he said. “We’ve still got Adam.” He looked around. “Hey, where is Adam?”

Jake looked down the bench. His friend was sitting at the very end. He didn’t look happy. Jake got up and went over to sit next to him. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked.

Adam shrugged and craned his neck toward the left-field line. Jake looked down the line and saw Mr. Hull leaning against the side of the metal stands. “Hey, your dad’s here,” Jake said.

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Hope my mom doesn’t show up.”

“Don’t worry,” Jake said as he pushed off the bench. “Come on, we’ve got a game to win.” He turned around to the field and shouted, “Let’s go, Michael, start us off.”

Michael smacked a quick comebacker to the pitcher for the first out. But Kyle blooped
a pop fly over the shortstop’s head for a single. The Red Sox had a runner on first base with one out.

Jake took a few steps and looked back at Adam. He was staring out toward the field but not cheering. Tucked in the corner of the Red Sox bench, Adam didn’t seem so big and confident anymore.

Chris struck out swinging, so there were two outs when Jake stepped into the batter’s box.

“Remember, Jake, swing level,” his dad called from the bench. “Come on, Adam, grab a helmet. You’re on deck.”

Jake let the first pitch go by. “Strike one,” the umpire called. Jake stepped out of the batter’s box, took a deep breath, and dug in again.

His father shouted encouragement. “Only takes one. Just like in practice. You can do it, Jake.”

Jake met an inside fastball and sent a line drive sizzling down the left-field baseline. Fair ball!

He raced to first base and then sped
toward second. The left fielder went deep into the left-field corner, caught the ball on a bounce, and fired it back into the infield. Kyle slid safe into third base. Now the Red Sox had runners at second and third and two outs, with Adam coming to bat. “Bring us in!” Jake shouted, clapping his hands at second base.

The first pitch cut the heart of the plate. Adam started to swing, but held back. Strike one.

Even out at second base, Jake could hear Adam’s father’s voice above the noise of the crowd. “Come on, swing the bat. Be ready. Don’t be a looker.”

Adam tried to kill the next pitch but swung under it, just grazing the bottom of the ball with the top of his bat. The ball flew above the infield, a harmless pop-up to shortstop. Jake jogged without hope to third base.

The shortstop caught the ball for the third out.

“Come on, Adam. What kind of swing was that?” Mr. Hull shouted.

Jake really felt sorry for Adam now. His friend’s shoulders were slumped as he headed back to the bench for his glove.

The Red Sox were still behind by a run. The score stayed that way for the next inning and a half. “Last ups and final inning!” Coach Sanders shouted as the Red Sox got ready to bat in the bottom of the sixth. “We need base runners. Who’s on deck?”

Mr. Daley called out the batting order. “Khalil. Michael. Kyle. Start us off.”

Khalil slapped a hard grounder to the left side of the infield. The Tigers third baseman scooped it up and made a strong throw to first base. One out.

Michael hit another ground ball, but this one found a hole between the first and second basemen. He dashed to first base.

The Red Sox had a runner on! The players bounced off the bench and started cheering like crazy. All the players except Adam. Jake looked back and saw his friend still sitting there. But Jake couldn’t worry about Adam right now. The Red Sox were fighting to come back.

Coach Sanders flashed a signal and Kyle laid a perfect bunt down the third-base line. The Tigers third baseman barehanded the ball and threw off-balance to first base. The ball skipped a few yards past the first baseman and the Red Sox runners hustled to move up a base. The Red Sox now had runners at second and third, with one out.

“Chris is up. Jake’s on deck. Adam, you’re in the hole,” Mr. Daley shouted.

The Tigers coach called a time-out and walked out to talk to his pitcher and catcher. After a short conference, the coach headed back to the Tigers bench. The catcher stood and held his glove wide of the plate. Jake frowned. It looked as if the Tigers were walking Chris on purpose to load up the bases.

Sure enough, the pitcher threw four straight balls. Chris ran to first base. The bases were loaded with one out.

Jake was coming to bat with a chance to win the game—and get his team into the championship.

He stood in the on-deck circle between Coach Sanders and his father. “The bases
are loaded, Jake,” Coach Sanders said. “So there are force plays at every base. Remember, the pitcher has to throw strikes, so look those pitches over.”

Jake nodded, wondering if his coach could hear his heart pounding.

His dad patted Jake on the back. “Don’t worry,” he said in a low voice. “You’re a strong hitter. Just get some good swings. Remember, you have Adam in back of you.”

Jake took a long, deep breath and stepped into the batter’s box.
This is my big chance to help the team,
he thought.
I’m not going to leave it to Adam.

The Tigers pitcher fired fastballs on the first two pitches. Jake just missed and fouled both pitches back onto the screen behind home plate.

No balls, two strikes.

“Good swing, Jake!” his dad shouted. “You’re a hitter. It only takes one.”

The pitcher threw another fastball. Jake was a little late but still got the barrel of the bat on the ball.
Crack!

The ball sliced over the second baseman’s
head into right field. The base runners were off as the field filled with cheers.

Jake saw the ball drop onto the outfield grass and spin to the foul line, away from the right fielder.
All right!
Jake thought, his heart and feet racing.
My hit may drive in two runs!
He turned the corner at first base and looked toward home. The Tigers catcher stood helplessly near the plate with his mask off as Michael dashed across home plate. Kyle motored in right behind him with the winning run.

The Red Sox had won. They were in the championship game! The team mobbed Kyle at home plate. They bounced up and down together in wild celebration.

“All right!”

“Nice hit, Jake!”

“We’re number one!”

As he ran in from the field, Jake saw Adam, still wearing his batting helmet, bouncing and shouting in the middle of the team.

Finally,
Jake thought,
I’m the hero.