Authors: Carol Gorman and Ron J. Findley
They found Ruckus Brody’s body two days later. A fisherman spotted him more than a half mile downriver from the entrance to the storm sewer. We got the news just before supper when Sheriff Engle called Mom.
Me and Luther were sitting on the davenport in the living room while the potatoes cooked. Mom came back from the telephone, sat down in the rocker, and told us that Ruckus had been found. Luther hung his head.
“You tried to save him, Luther,” I said. “You told him to grab your hand.”
“But I didn’t save him.”
“Luther,” Mom said, leaning forward, “he was a bad man. He died trying to kill you and Charlie, and you tried to save his life. You’re not responsible for Ruckus’s death. You’re a hero.”
She got up from the rocking chair and went over to him. “I’m so glad you came into our lives, Luther,” she said. She put her arms around him and gave him a hug.
Luther looked surprised but pleased. He patted Mom’s shoulder in an awkward way.
She pulled back and sat down next to him. “I’m so embarrassed and furious about Vern and those men bailing Ruckus out of jail. Luther, I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Mrs. Nebraska,” Luther said. “You didn’t know they were gonna do that.”
“The phone’s been ringing off the wall,” Mom said. “Everyone wants to know how you two are. The whole town has heard what happened by now. Luther, a few of them called to say they want you to know they’re sorry about how you’ve been treated here in Holden.”
Luther nodded, looking serious.
“Mom, you aren’t gonna see Vern again, are you?” I asked.
“No, absolutely not,” Mom said. “I told that man never to come over here, never to call me, ever again. Anyone who’d do the horrible thing he did—well, we’ll never have to see him again, Charlie.”
“Good,” I said.
It took a load off my mind to know that Vern was out of our lives for good. Now Mom and I could go back to living the way we did before she met him.
Not exactly, though. Knowing Luther had changed me in ways that weren’t real clear in my mind. But for sure the Will and baseball and Brad Lobo parts of my life were different now.
In some ways, it seemed like I met Luther a year ago instead of just a few weeks.
During the last couple of days, I’d thought a lot about Dad. He wasn’t coming home. It had surprised me when that thought floated in and settled in my mind. But I didn’t panic.
I’d turned it around and looked at it from all sides.
He wasn’t going to come walking through that front door again, calling my name. And all the wishing and hoping in the world wouldn’t make that happen.
Luther told me that day down by the river that Dad could live on forever if I keep him alive inside of me. So I’ll think about him every day and talk to him whenever I feel like it. Maybe he’ll be listening.
“Luther, how’s your arm feeling?” Mom asked.
Luther shook his head. “I don’t understand it, Mrs. Nebraska. That arm didn’t work for months, till Charlie needed help. The doctor told me that can happen sometimes. He had a name for it, but I don’t recall it. He said I must have been feelin’ so bad about killing a person with my pitching arm it just stopped working for a while. But when Charlie was in trouble, I guess I forgot about it. I didn’t even know what happened till Charlie told me later. It’s weak, but I can build up the strength. I hope I’ll even be able to pitch again someday.”
“That would be wonderful,” Mom said. She sighed. “Life sure has a way of changing fast.” She looked at me. “Charlie, I’ve been thinking. I want to go back to school.”
My mouth dropped open, I was so surprised. “Really?”
“Yes. Maybe I’ll learn how to be a beautician. I could make more money cutting ladies’ hair than working the cash register at Woolworth’s. We’ll have to tighten our belts a bit, but we’ve still got your dad’s pension. You think we could live on less money for a while?”
“Sure,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t need nothin’.”
“Anything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Anything.”
Mom smiled. “Thanks, honey.” She looked back and forth between me and Luther. “Well, I better check those potatoes.” She got up and walked into the kitchen.
“So,” Luther said, “I hear Coach Hennessey wants you to play with the Wildcats. You musta really impressed him.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Will called me, too. He said he was sorry for telling why you came up here to Iowa. But I’m the one who blabbed to Will in the first place. You wouldn’t have had all that trouble if I hadn’t—”
“Charlie,” Luther interrupted. “Stop right there. You weren’t to blame for anything.”
Luther was just being nice. I knew I was to blame for a
lot
of what happened. But I was glad Will called to say he was sorry for his part. I don’t know what’ll happen between him and me. Maybe we’ll be friends again someday. Maybe not.
“So you gonna play with the Wildcats now?” Luther asked.
“No,” I said. “It made me feel pretty good that Coach Hennessey wants me on the team, but I told him I was playin’ with the Stumptown Stormers. He’s an okay coach, I guess, but you’re miles better at teaching us.”
Luther looked at the floor a second, then back up at me.
“Charlie,” he said, kind of slow. “Remember what I said about goin’ back home? I don’t have to worry about Ruckus no more, you know.”
Something pressed on my chest. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“I called Mr. Landen and gave him my notice this morning.”
“But, Luther …” A knot appeared in my throat. “What about our team? What about—about me and you and—”
“Charlie,” he said, leaning toward me. “I’m sure grateful I got you for a friend. If I was to have a boy of my own one day, I hope he’ll be just like you. But I want to be near my family—”
“But
we’re
like a family,” I said. “Me and you—and Mom.”
“That’s right, we are,” he said. “But I got another family who misses me, and I got to get home. Besides, I’m gonna get this arm back in shape. I want to play ball again, and I think I got a good chance with the minors. Maybe even the majors. The Negro League’s disappearing now. Ever since Jackie got into the National League, more colored men are playin’ major league ball.”
“Hey, yeah,” I said, starting to feel a little better. “You could be a baseball star. You got that powerful pitch. Maybe I could listen to your games on the radio.”
Luther smiled. “We’ll see. It’d be good to get back to playin’ again.” He looked at me steady for a second or two. “I’ll miss you, Charlie Nebraska. Maybe you could come visit me one day, you and your mama. I could meet you at the train.”
“That’d be great, Luther.”
“We had a good time, didn’t we?”
“Yeah,” I said. “We sure did.”
“And you’re right, Charlie. We
are
like a family.”
“Yeah.”
He was quiet for a second. Then he said, “I love you, son.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. So I pitched myself into him and held on for a real long time.
CAROL GORMAN
is the author of many books for young readers, including books about Jerry Flack, who first appeared in
Dork in Disguise.
That title was chosen for children’s choice lists in nine states and was named the winner in Missouri, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Washington, and West Virginia. Her novels have been published in seven countries and translated into four languages. She is frequently invited to make author appearances and in the past few years has spoken to more than 10,000 teachers, librarians, and students across the country. She and her husband Ed, a mystery writer, live in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, where Carol also teaches at Coe College. Readers may visit her website at
www.carolgorman.com
.
RON J. FINDLEY
has been involved in baseball since he was a boy growing up in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. As a child, he says, he was always looking for a sandlot baseball game, and many of the ideas for
Stumptown Kid
are based on his memories of that time. In his teens he was the starting centerfielder for Jefferson High School. In 1961, his undefeated team became the Iowa High School State Baseball Champions. Ron played at the highest level in Men’s Major Fastpitch Softball, and he founded the Iowa Fastpitch Softball Hall of Fame. He coached youth football, baseball, and softball teams for many years. Ron has two grown children and five grandchildren.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2005 by Carol Gorman and Ron J. Findley
Cover design by Loraine M. Joyner
Background baseball player photo courtesy of the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, George Grantham Bain Collection.
ISBN 978-1-4976-9440-8
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