I looked at the cards he handed me. They were his baseball cards. I flipped through them. All the important players were there.
Reluctantly, I held them out to him. “I can’t take these. It’s your whole baseball collection.”
He pushed my hand away. “I know what it is. I want you to have it.”
“Yeah, well, I appreciate it, but I couldn’t keep it.”
“I
want
you to keep it. That’s just the point. I was rotten toward you. You played great Saturday. I was jealous, so I made you feel lousy.” His brown eyes studied me. “I bet you haven’t been playing ball these past few days because of me.”
“Well, I’ve been kind of busy,” I said.
“Hey, Adam, I want us to be friends again, okay?” He grinned and tapped me on the shoulder. I couldn’t help but smile back. But then I remembered how ugly he’d been that day, and then that weird grin. I put the pack of cards on the kitchen table.
“Look,” I said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t be friendly with someone who’s nice one day and nasty the next. I just can’t.”
Eddie stared down at the linoleum. When he finally spoke he sounded like a little kid.
“I really can’t blame you,” he said softly. “Sometimes I get so angry I see red. I don’t mean to get that way. But I’ll try real hard to control it. Just tell me to shut up if I say anything mean again.”
I sighed. What was the point of discussing it anymore? Eddie had come over to apologize and the cards were his peace offering. I could tell that he meant well even though he didn’t always act well.
“All right,” I finally said.
“Great! Let’s shake on it.” He held out his hand and we shook. That over, he grinned, all carefree again. “You coming to play ball this afternoon?”
“Sure,” I answered. “Why not?”
“Well, then get your mitt and let’s go.”
Most of the kids were already there when we got to the field. We formed teams. “Hey,” I shouted to Eddie as we took our positions at first and second base, “Danny and Mark aren’t here. I wonder what’s happened to them.”
“They’ll probably come any minute. Or maybe they’re not playing today.”
“He told me they were,” I said, puzzled. Danny was usually one of the first kids at the field.
We played an entire inning and Danny and Mark never showed up. “That’s strange,” I told Eddie, as we walked back onto the field. “It’s not like Danny to say they’ll play and then not come.”
“Forget about it,” Eddie said. “They’re probably busy with something else.”
But it bothered me enough to call Danny after dinner at Mark’s house. As soon as his aunt put him on I could tell that something was wrong.
“Something’s happened,” Danny said. He sounded angry. “Mark’s in a lot of trouble.”
“What’s happened?”
“He’s been grounded. For a week. My aunt won’t even let him play in Saturday’s game. And he almost got suspended from school for a few days.”
“For God’s sake, what happened?” I practically yelled into the phone.
“Mark was set up.”
“Set up? You mean framed?” I almost laughed. Danny made it sound like Mark was in an old movie where the good guy gets framed for a crime he didn’t commit.
“You heard me.” Now Danny sounded like he was mad at
me.
“Mark would never spray Laura Lee Swanson’s locker with shaving cream, would he?”
“Who’s Laura Lee Swanson?”
“It doesn’t matter. Her locker’s next to Mark’s. When she opened it at lunchtime to change books, everything inside was covered with shaving cream.”
“So why did anyone think Mark did that?”
“Because while she was screaming and carrying on Mark came by and opened his locker. A can of shaving cream was sitting right there on the shelf. Laura Lee saw it and got more hysterical. She started screaming that Mark had ruined all her books and notebooks. And Mr. Helmsley happened to be walking by just then.”
“God!” I exclaimed. Mr. Helmsley was the principal of the junior high. “What did he do?”
“Hauled Mark into the office and threatened to expel him. Mark started to cry. Then Mr. Hemsley called Uncle Murray down at the store and said he had to come and take Mark home.”
“Boy. What did Mark say about all this?”
“Nothing, except that he didn’t do it and that he had no idea how someone could have put the can of shaving
cream in his locker. Laura Lee’s locker was unlocked but his wasn’t. And Mr. Helmsley’s making him pay for a new social studies and math book.”
“Sounds awful,” I said, shuddering. Then I remembered how Mark always liked to clown around. “Are you sure that he wasn’t just playing a little trick on her and it got out of hand?” I asked.
“I’m sure,” Danny snapped. “Mark’s my cousin and my friend. I know he wouldn’t do any such thing.”
I was sorry I’d made such a dumb remark. I couldn’t imagine Mark ruining someone else’s books and I sure didn’t need Danny mad at me. I tried to make amends.
“It sounds as though someone had it in for Laura Lee.”
“Or had it in for Mark.”
I thought about it. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”
“Look, I gotta go now,” Danny said. “See you in school tomorrow and we’ll work on the sets afterward, okay?”
“Sure thing,” I said. “And tell Mark that I’m sorry about what happened.”
“Right. ’Bye.”
I stared down at the receiver in my hand, dazed by what Danny had just told me. How could a kid be so rotten and do a thing like that and then frame somebody else? Poor Mark. To think how he must feel—being blamed for something he didn’t do and getting punished for it, too. We were sure to lose Saturday’s game if he couldn’t play. It wasn’t fair! Then I felt a twinge of envy. At least Mark had one good friend who believed in him—Danny. Danny believed his cousin in spite of everything and he expected everyone else to see it that way, too. I couldn’t imagine anyone sticking up for me like that. Then I thought of something else. Would I have enough guts to stick up for someone like Danny was doing?
I had to talk to someone. I ran downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen stacking dishes in the dishwasher.
“I just spoke to Danny,” I told her. “His cousin Mark got into trouble today for spraying some girl’s locker with shaving cream. But Danny says Mark didn’t do it. That he was framed.”
“How do you know Mark didn’t do it?” Mom asked calmly.
I was shocked. “Danny says he didn’t. And he’s a nice kid, Mom. You’ve met him.”
“He did seem nice.” Mom sighed. “These days it’s so hard to tell who’s nice and who isn’t.”
“Adam’s right. Mark’s a good kid.”
I turned around and saw Jeremy standing in the doorway. I didn’t know how much of our conversation he’d overheard.
“Did you hear what happened in school today?” I asked him.
“Some kids were talking about it in the halls.”
Then I thought of something. “That’s funny. Eddie didn’t mention it either when he came over this afternoon.”
“I’m not surprised,” Jeremy said.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.
“Just that on the bus this morning he was busy doing his homework like always. Anyway, his knapsack fell. It was open and a can of shaving cream dropped out. I said something like ‘I see you’re shaving already, Gordon,’ and he gave me this look. I mean, he really scared me. Then he said, ‘Mind your own business, dummy,’ and that was the end of it.”
My heart was racing. “Yeah, yeah. That’s some great
story,” I taunted him. “You don’t have to make up lies just because you hate Eddie.”
“Adam,” Mom said sharply. “Jeremy doesn’t lie and you know it.”
What I knew was that Jeremy wasn’t good at lying, but I didn’t say so. “Sorry, Mom,” I said meekly. “But that doesn’t mean Eddie did it, and Jeremy knows it.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell anyone about it,” Jeremy said. “Except for now. Sometimes kids bring in shaving cream and spray it all over the mirrors in the boys’ room.”
“See what I mean?” I pointed out. “If you’re accusing Eddie, then you’re saying he deliberately got Mark into trouble. Danny says that Mark has to pay about fifteen dollars to replace the books that were damaged.”
“Yeah, well, maybe Eddie didn’t do it,” Jeremy said, sounding unsure of himself. “I mean, I didn’t see him go near Laura Lee’s locker or anything.”
“See, what did I tell you?” I shouted triumphantly. “You have no proof. No proof at all!”
Mom shook her head. “We have no way of proving who did it, one way or another. All I know is that it’s a rotten shame that
anyone
would do something like that.”
“Probably some crazy did it,” I said. “Someone we don’t know.”
Jeremy and Mom looked at me. They both seemed on the verge of saying something, but neither of them said a word.
CHAPTER 7
I didn’t hear much more about the incident with Mark and Laura Lee and the shaving cream. Only that he was grounded for a week and ended up paying just five dollars in fines, since the books weren’t really damaged after all. Still, it was a stiff penalty to pay for something he didn’t do. Of course our team lost the game Mark wasn’t allowed to come to, just as I expected. Danny said that Mark was especially mad about that.
The school play was in two weeks, and Danny and I worked on the sets every day after school. These two girls—Patty Shore and Michelle Briar, who were in the play but didn’t have big parts—started to come by the art room, so we let them help us paint until it was time for them to go on stage. Then they’d rush away to the auditorium, saying that they’d be late and that their teacher, Mr. Landon, who was in charge of the play, would kill them if they missed their cues. Michelle had blue eyes that kept staring at Danny and curly blonde hair that bounced when she walked. But I really thought that Patty was nicer, even though she wasn’t as pretty. When
she smiled at me I got the feeling that she could see inside my thoughts and liked what she saw.
A couple of times the girls came back after they’d rehearsed their parts. Then the four of us sat around and talked. Danny and I forgot about the softball game, but neither of us cared. Besides, now that we were winning more baseball games, Mr. Gordon held weekly practices at our school field. We’d just moved into fourth place. If we kept our position, we’d make the play-offs.
“Where have you been all this week?” Eddie asked me during our next practice as we jogged around in a large circle. “Turning into a hermit?”
“I’ve been busy working on the sets for the play,” I told him. I felt nervous, like he was going to get mad and think I’d been avoiding him, but he just smiled. Ever since we’d made up he’d been on his best behavior with me.
“Why don’t you take a break tomorrow?” he called over his shoulder as he sprinted ahead. “If you want, I’ll come over and we can practice your knuckleball.”
“Great!” I shouted.
“I’ll be over as soon as I get home from school,” he promised.
The next day Jeremy was just finishing his snack when Eddie came by.
“We’re going over to the school yard to work on my knuckleball,” I told Jeremy.
“Good,” he said, looking Eddie straight in the eye. “I’ll be busy around here and I don’t want you hanging around.”
Eddie flinched and looked away. I tried to think of something to say. Sure, Jeremy had every reason to hate Eddie for all the mean things he always said to him. Still,
I felt embarrassed for Eddie. For some dumb reason I noticed how much bigger Jeremy was than Eddie. Jeremy was a good size for his age and pretty strong, even though he wasn’t athletic. But I don’t know why I was thinking like this. Jeremy almost never got into fights—unless someone pushed him too far.
I decided to make a joke out of it. “What are you doing that you need so much privacy? Making a bomb?”
“Ha ha,” Jeremy answered, not at all amused. “First, I’m going to water my plants, and then I think I’ll go bike riding.”
Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. I knew he was going over to Tommy’s house. He never actually told me and I didn’t need to ask. I could just tell, by the way he’d slink off, then come home hours later, laughing and singing his fool head off.
“Have fun,” I called out as I grabbed my mitt from the hall closet.
Eddie didn’t say anything until the door closed behind us. “Wow, does your brother have some chip on his shoulder.”
I couldn’t let that go by. “Well, maybe he’s sick and tired of people making fun of him and calling him names.”
Eddie laughed. “Yeah, well, maybe he can’t take a joke.”
I didn’t answer. As far as I could see, Eddie was wrong. But anything I’d say about it wouldn’t change his way of thinking. We were friends again now, and he helped me in ways Jeremy never could in a million years.
The school field was empty except for a group of small kids playing soccer at the far end. We started working on my knuckleball. I was having trouble gripping the ball
with my knuckles. Eddie kept showing me how to do it. I wondered how he managed it so well, since his hands weren’t much bigger than mine. He could throw every pitch—sidearm, curve, change-up, knuckle. Only he couldn’t throw as many strikes as I could. I guess that was why his father had been making me starting pitcher in the last few games. That and the fact that Eddie was a terrific first baseman.