Rivals (2010) (18 page)

JOSH FELT THE MOAN
escape him. But Benji, off balance and reaching for the sky with his bat, connected.

CRACK.

The ball took off like an airplane, climbing higher as it went, arcing over the right fielder’s head and dropping toward the fence. Benji took off.

Everyone screamed.

When the ball hit the fence with a clang, Josh felt Jaden’s fingers dig straight down to his bone. The ball popped up and fell, and none of them could tell if it was inside or outside the fence.

Benji ran for all he was worth, his foot smacking the second-base bag. The right fielder sprinted toward the fence, reaching for the ball like it was still in play. Benji was halfway to third with his back to the outfielder and
already slowing down, extending his arms to receive the cheers of the crowd.

The outfielder threw his shoulder into the fence and reached down, springing back out onto the grass with the recoil of the metal mesh and cranking back his arm to make a throw.

Benji rounded third and—even though he’d disavowed the player after his steroid use—tipped off his batting helmet like Manny Ramirez, arms still out, loving the applause and hamming it up for the TV cameras.

Josh and his dad and the entire Titans team screamed for Benji to run. Benji turned his head and saw the right fielder launch the ball. His face dropped in complete shock, but instead of freezing, Benji clenched his jaw and took off. He put his head down, churning forward, fighting for top speed to beat the throw.

Jaden chewed on a knuckle and said, “He’ll never make it.”

THE BALL HIT THE
grass just inside the infield dirt and bounced toward home plate. The catcher had to step to his left, a few feet up the baseline. Benji and the ball raced for the same spot.

The catcher caught the ball on a bounce with a smack, pinning it with both hands into the pocket of the mitt and turning to tag Benji.

Benji’s face contorted with momentary horror, then he snarled and dipped his shoulder and plowed straight through the catcher. His shoulder caught the catcher in the chest and he drove upward. The catcher flew into the air, twisting as he fell. Benji lost his balance and fell forward, his hands smacking home plate. The catcher landed with a thud, his mitt extended out to the side to preserve his hold on the ball, but when the glove
hit the dirt, the ball dribbled out.

The umpire leaned over and dipped his masked face toward the loose ball before slashing his arms sideways through the air.

“Safe!”

The Titans spilled from the dugout, swarming Benji at the plate, but their teammate lay facedown, flat and unmoving with his arms extended. As they circled around him, the team went silent and the crowd grew quiet.

“Is he okay?” Jaden said.

Benji suddenly jerked his arms in and began pumping out sloppy push-ups over the top of home plate, counting them with a sagging bow in his back that would have embarrassed even a nerd in gym class.

After flopping out ten push-ups, Benji sprang to his feet and held his arms wide for the crowd, which erupted into earsplitting cheers. The team mauled Benji, raising him up as he grinned and bowed his head over and over.

In the tumult, Josh became aware of the heavy thud of helicopter blades. Before the Titans even settled down, the helicopter dropped from the sky and landed in a whirl of dust in the middle of the outfield. Mickey Mullen had his son by the collar, and he half guided, half dragged him toward the thundering aircraft.

As Josh and Jaden watched, Mickey Jr. escaped his dad’s grip and headed toward second base. The Mick
didn’t even look back. He trudged for the helicopter on his own, signaling with a wave of his hand for his son to follow, but Mickey Jr. kept coming, so Josh and Jaden walked out to meet him.

To Jaden, Mickey Jr. winked and said, “Thanks for all the nice things you wrote about me. My money’s on you to get that Pulitzer one day. It’s been fun.”

Then Mickey Jr. pointed at Josh and said, “You won this one, but next time it’ll be different.”

Then Mickey Jr. turned and ran for the helicopter. He hopped in, the door closed, and the helicopter rose, lifting straight up before tilting its nose and heading south.

“You did it,” Jaden said, giving Josh a hug.

“And Benji,” Josh said.

She nodded and said, “And Benji.”

Josh looked at her, studying the golden flecks in her green eyes, looking for something—care, friendship, respect—and finding it.

“He didn’t have to throw to me,” Josh said, adjusting his cap to shield his eyes from the sun so he could follow the path of the helicopter as it took off into the wind. “His dad wanted him to walk me, but he threw a good pitch anyway.”

“He wanted to test himself,” she said, “and from what he just said, I’m guessing that he figures your paths will cross again. It’s what you wanted, right? What your dad said you needed to make you great? I told you,
all you had to do was be you and it would happen.”

Josh looked her in the eyes and said, “I
am
looking forward to facing him again.”

Still smiling, she nodded toward the helicopter growing smaller in the sky and said, “Right. It’s what you said you needed to be great—a baseball rival.”

Photo of boy © 2010 by Barbara Fitzsimmons

Jacket art and design by Joel Tippie