the Shortstop (1992) (9 page)

Mac had ordered morning practice for the Columbus series of games. The players hated morning practice, "drill" they called it, and presented themselves with visible displeasure. And when they were all on the grounds Mac appeared with a bat over his shoulder, and with his two new players in tow.

Poke was long and lanky, a sunburned rustic who did not know what to do with his hands and feet.

" Battin' practice," called out Mac, sharply, ordering Poke to the pitcher'
s
box.

Poke peeled off his sweater, showing bare arms that must have had
a
long and intimate acquaintance with axe and rail-pile.

"Better warm up first," said Mac. It developed that Poke did not need an
y
warming. When he got ready he wound himself up, and going throug
h
some remarkable twist that made him resemble a cartwheel, delivere
d
the ball towards the plate. Thatcher just dodged in time to save his head.

" Speed! Whew ! Wow ! " exclaimed the players.

" Speed! " echoed Thatcher. " Wait till you, get up there! "

Poke drove Thatcher away from the plate and struck Meade out.

"Put 'em over " said Benny, as he came up.

The first ball delivered hit Benny on the foot, and roaring, he thre
w
down his bat. " You Rube ! You wild Indian ! I 'll git you fer thet !'

Enoch Winters was the next batter. " Say, you lean, hungry-lookin'
r
ubberneck, if you hit me ! " warned Enoch, in his soft voice.

Poke struck Enoch out and retired Chase on a little pop-up fly. Then Ca
s
sauntered up with his wagon-tongue bat and a black scowl on his face.

"Steady up, steady up," said he. " Put 'em over. Don't use all you
r
steam."

" Mister, I ain't commenced yit to throw hard," replied Poke.

" Wha-at ? " Yelled Cas. " Are you kidding me? Slam the ball! Break you
r
arm, then!"

The rustic whirled a little farther round, unwound himself a littl
e
quicker, and swung his arm. Cas made an ineffectual attempt to hit wha
t
looked like a white cord stretched between him and the pitcher. Th
e
next ball started the same way, but took an upward jump and sho
t
under Cas's chin.

Cas, who had a mortal dread of being hit, fell back from the plate an
d
glared at Poke.

"You've got his alley, Poke!" Cried the amiable players. " Keep 'em under his chin!" Cas retired in disgust as Mac came trotting up from the field, where he had been coaching the high-school player.

"What's he got?" asked Mac, eagerly. "What 's he got!" yelled nine voices in unison. " Oh! nothing! "

" Step up an' take a turn," said Mac to his new player. " No, don't stand so far back. Here, let me show you. Gimme the bat."

Mac took a position well up to the plate. and began illustrating his idea of the act of hitting.

" You see, I get well back on my right foot, ready to step forward with my left. I'll step just before he delivers the ball. I 'll keep my bat over my shoulder an' hit a little late, so as to hit to right field. Thet 's best for the hit-an'-run gam. Now, watch. See. Step an' set; step an' set. The advantage of gettin' set this way is the pitcher can't fool you, can't hit you. You needn't never be afraid of bein' hit after you lear
n
how to get set. No pitcher could hit me.
Then raising his voice, Mac shouted to Poke, "Hey, poke up a couple. Speed em over, now!"

Poke evidently recognized the cardinal necessity of making an impression, for he went through more wonderful gyrations than ever. Then he lunged forward with the swing he used in getting the ball away. Nobody saw the ball.

BUMB! A sound not unlike a suddenly struck base-drum electrified the watching players. Then the ball appeared rolling down from Mac's shrinking person. The little manager seemed to be slowly settling to the ground. He turned an agonized face and uttered a long moan.

" My ribs I my ribs ! - he hit me," gasped Mac.

Chase, Poke, and the new man were the only persons who did not roll over and over on the ground. That incident put an end to the morning "drill." After dressing, Chase decided to tr
y
to find Mittie-Maru. The mascot had not been at the last two games, and this fact determined him to seek the lad. So he passed down the street where he had often left Mittie, and asked questions on the way. Everybody knew the hunchback, but nobody knew where he lived.

Chase went on until he passed the line of houses and got into the outskirts of the town, where carpenter-shops, oil refineries, and brick-yards abounded. Several workmen he questioned said they saw the boy almost every day, and that he kept on down the street toward the open country. Chase had about decided to give up his quest, when he came to the meadows and saw across them the green of a line of willows. This he knew marked a brook or river, along which a stroll would be pleasant.

When he reached the river he saw Mittie-maru sitting on a log patiently holding a long crooked fish-pole. "Any luck?" he shouted.

Mittie-maru turned with a start, and seeing Chase cried out, " You ole son-of-a-gun ! Trailed me
,
didn't you? What yer doin' out here? "

" I'm looking for you, Mittie."

" What fer ? "

Chase leaped down the bank and seated himself on the log beside th
e
boy. "Well, you haven't been out to the grounds lately. Why?"

" Aw ! nuthin'," replied Mittie, savagely.

"See here, you can't string me," said Chase, earnestly. "Things aren'
t
right with you, Mittie, and you can't bluff it out on me. So I've bee
n
hunting you. We're going to be pards, you know."

"Are we? "

Chase then saw Mittie's eyes for the first time, and learned they wer
e
bright, soft, and beautiful, giving his face an entirely different look.

"Sure. And that's why I wanted to find you - where you lived - and if yo
u
were sick again."

" It's my back, Chase," replied Mittie, reluctantly. "Sometimes it -hurt
s
worse."

" Then it pains you all the time? "
a
sked Chase, voicing a suspicion that had come to him from watching the boy.

" Yes. But it ain't bad today. Sometimes - hol' on! I got a bite. See! It's a whopper - Thunder! I missed him!"

Mittie-Maru rebaited his hook and cast it into the stream. " Fishin' fer mine, when I can't git to the ball-grounds. Do you like fishin', Chase? "

" Love it. You must let me come out and fish with you."

" Sure. There 's good fishin' fer catfish an' suckers, an' once in a while a bass. I never fished any before I came here, an' I missed a lot. You see, movin' round ain't easy fer me. Gee! I can walk, but I mean playin' ball or any games the kids play ain't fer me. So I take mine out in fishin'. I 've got so I like sittin' in the sun with it all lonely aroun', 'cept the birds an' ripples. I used to be sore - about - about my back an' things, but fishin' has showed me I could be worse off. I can see an' hear as well as anybody. There ! I got bite again ! "

Mittie-maru pulled out a sunfish that wriggled and shone like gold in the sunlight. " Thet's enough fer today. I ain't no fish-hog. Chase, if I show you where I live you won't squeal? Of course you won't."

Chase assured him he would observe absolute secrecy; and together they mounted the bank and walked up stream. The meadows were bright with early June daisies and buttercups; the dew had not yet dried from the clover; blackbirds alighted in the willows and larks fluttered up from the grass. They came presently to an abandoned brickyard, where piles of broken brick lay scattered round, and two mound-like kilns stood amid the ruins of some frame structures.

" Here we are," said Mittie-Maru, marching up to one of the kilns and throwing open a rudely contrived door. A. dark aperture revealed the entrance to this singular abode.

" You don't mean you live in this oven?" ejaculated Chase.

" Sure. An' I've lived in worse places. Come in, an' make yourself to home."

Mittie-maru crawled into the hole, and Chase followed him. It was roomy inside. Light came in from the chimney hole in the roof, and also on one side where there was a crack in the bricks. The floor was clean and of smooth sand. A pile of straw and some blankets made MittieMaru's bed. A fireplace of bricks, a few cooking utensils, and a box cupboard told that he was his own housekeeper.

" This 's not bad. How long have you lived in here?"

" Aw, I fooled round town fer a while last Summer, spendin' my money fer swell lodgin's, an' then I found this place. Makes a hit with me."

"But when you're sick, Mittie, what do you - how do you manage? " " Out of sight, an' I ain't no bother to no one."

And that was all Mittie-Maru would vouchsafe concerning himself. They came out after a while and Chase wanted to walk farther on up the river. Rolling meadows stretched away to the hills; there was a grove of maples not far off.

"It's so pretty up that way. Can't we go farther on and strike another road into town? "

" Sure. But them meadows an' groves is private property," said Mittie, dubiously. " I used to fish up thet way, till I threw Miss Marjory down, then I quit. She lives in one of them grove houses. We ain't likely to meet no one, though, so come on."

They crossed several fields to enter the grove. The river was narrow there and shaded by big trees. Violets peeped out of the grass. A white house gleamed in the distance.

Suddenly they came round a huge spreading tree to a green embankment. A boat rode in the water, one end lightly touching the sand. And in the boat was a girl. Her eyes were closed; her head rested on her arm, which hung over the side. A mass of violets lay in her lap. All about the boat was deep shade, but a gleam of sunshine, filtering through the leaves, turned the girl's hair to gold.

Mittie-Maru uttered a suppressed exclamation and bolted behind some bushe
s
Chase took a step to follow suit, when the girl opened her eyes and saw him. She gave a little cry, which rooted Chase to the spot.

Then because of the movement of the girl the boat left the sand and drifted into the stream. Whereupon Mittie-Maru returned valiantly to the scene. "Miss Marjory ! Don't be scart. It's all right. We'll get you in. Where's the oars? Chase, you'll hev to wade in. The water ain't deep. Come here, the boat's goin' close to this sand-bar."

Chase became animated at Mittie's words, and hurriedly slipping off his shoes and stockings, he jumped to the sand below and waded out. Deeper and deeper the water grew, till he was far over his knees. Still the boat was out of reach. He could tell by feeling with his foot that another step would plunge him over his head, and was about to swim, when Mittie came to the rescue.

He threw a long pole down to Chase. "There! let her grab that, an' pull her in."

Chase extended the pole, and as the girl caught it he saw her eyes. They were dark blue and smiled into his. "Careful!" shouted the pilot above. " Don't pull so hard, Chase, this ain't no tug-o'-war. There! All right."

When Chase moored the boat Miss Marjory gathered up the violets and lightly stepped ashore. Then an obvious constraint affected the three. She murmured a low "Thank you," and stood, picking the flowers; Chase bent over his shoes and stockings with a very flushed face, and Mittie-Maru labored with sudden and painful emotions.

"Miss Marjory, it 'peared like we pushed the boat out, me an' Chase, but thet ain't so. We was walkin' this way - he wanted to go in the grove - an' all to onct we spied you, an' I ducked behind the bushes."

" Why? Are you afraid of me, Mittie-Maru ? " she asked.

" Yes - no - it ain't thet, Miss Marjory. Well, no use lyin'. I 've been keepin' out of your way fer a long time now, 'cause I know you'd have me in Sunday school."

" Now you will come back, won't you?" " I s'pose so," he said wit
h
resignation, then looked at Chase. "Miss Marjory, this 's my frien
d
Chase, Findlay's new short-stop."

" I met the - new short-stop last week," was the demure reply.

"Miss Marjory, you didn't sell Chase none of them gold bricks at th
e
church sociable? "

" No, Mittie, but I sold him five plates of ice-cream," she answered, with
a
merry laugh. " Your friend has forgotten me."

Mittie-Maru regarded Chase with a fine contempt. Chase wa
s
tongue-tied. Somewhere he had indeed seen those deep blue eyes; the
y
were like the memory of a dream. " Miss - Miss - " stammered Chase.

"Miss Dean, Marjory Dean."

" I met - so many girls - I didn't really have time to get to know anybod
y
well "