Rivals (2010) (5 page)

JOSH’S PARENTS RETURNED WITH
his little sister. His dad put Laurel into a high chair that clipped onto the side of the picnic table and his mom began to feed her chunks of hamburger, half of which she tossed about the table and grass.

“Now, that’s what I call quality grub,” Benji said, slapping his naked gut and burping loudly. “Excuse me.”

“Thank you for the burgers, Mr. LeBlanc,” Jaden said, wiping her mouth on a napkin, “and the potato salad was delicious, Mrs. LeBlanc. Thank you for lunch.”

“You have very nice manners,” Josh’s mom said to Jaden, patting her arm.

Benji rolled his eyes at Josh and pretended to stick a finger down his throat. It wasn’t often that someone beat him to the punch on manners. Then Benji pointed,
silently clapping with delight as Jaden returned to the blanket and took the cell phone out of her pack.

Josh turned his attention to Jaden too, and a feeling of dread crept into his bones as he realized they’d probably taken things too far. She stood listening to the message on her phone, the excitement building on her face until she bounced up and down and squealed.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, holding the phone out and looking at it like it was a friend. “Oh my gosh! I’ve got to get to New York City! Mr. LeBlanc, I hate to ask you, but my dad has rounds until midnight, and I have to get there.”

“Why do you have to get to New York, dear?” Josh’s mom asked.

“Oh my gosh,” Jaden said, jumping up and down, “I just got a call from Mickey Mullen’s publicist. They’re in New York and he agreed to give me an interview. They saw my request and were so impressed with a twelve-year-old girl writing for a newspaper—that’s what they said—and he’s in New York for some movie thing and some time freed up on his schedule and they said all I have to do is
get
there.”

“We’ve got a dinner with my assistant coaches and their wives tonight, Jaden,” Josh’s dad said, “so I can’t take you, even if your dad would let you go.”

“Hey,” Benji said, pointing to the family at the next picnic table over from them, “I heard those people talking. They’re
from
New York. I heard them talking about how they were leaving early to beat the traffic back into
the city. You should just ask them.”

Jaden didn’t even hesitate. She marched right over to them.

“Jaden?” Josh’s mom said. “You can’t just—”

But Jaden didn’t hear. She was on a mission. The father of the small family was tall and skinny with pale skin gone beet red from the sun. He stood chewing on a cucumber as he flipped a rack of vegetables on his grill. His wife, a heavy woman wearing a white one-piece bathing suit with the face of a duck on her big tummy, guzzled down a Dr Pepper as she fed Twinkies to her screaming twin boys.

“Hi, folks,” Jaden said, her Texas drawl coming out the way it did when she got nervous or excited, talking fast, without even thinking, “I hate to interrupt, but my friend happened to overhear that you all are from New York City and heading back today and I really would like to just catch a ride down there with you all if you don’t mind. I know it’s a strange thing to ask someone you don’t even know, but I have an interview with Mickey Mullen—you know, the baseball player and movie star—that I have to get there for. I mean, I’d have to get permission from my dad and all, but you’ve got kids of your own so maybe he’d say yes, you never know. I mean, this is like a once-in-a-lifetime deal. So, do you think you could help me?”

The big woman blinked at Jaden while one of the little boys pawed at her leg, mewling for another Twinkie.

“Eddy?” she said accusingly to her husband. “Do you know this girl?”

The husband let the hand with the cucumber fall to his side as he shook his head.

“Are you on drugs?” the big woman asked.

“No,” Jaden said, stammering. “I just…It’s just that—”

“We’re from Schenectady,” the lady said.

“I…” Jaden said, pointing back toward Benji, “are you sure?”

“Are we sure, Eddy?” the wife asked.

“I am,” Eddy, the husband, said, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Oh,” Jaden said, her shoulders falling. “I’m awfully sorry.”

Jaden marched back toward their picnic table, her face red and tears brimming in her eyes. Benji howled and pointed.

“Did you see that guy’s face?” Benji said, laughing. “She’s so hot for her Mickey Mullen exclusive that she just asked two complete strangers for a ride.”

“What are you two up to?” Josh’s mom asked.

Josh shrugged.

Benji grinned and said, “Just kidding around a little.”

Jaden stopped in front of Josh. “That was you on my voice mail, wasn’t it? There is no Mickey Mullen interview. Yeah, that’s how bad I wanted it. You got me to
make a complete fool out of myself. Are you proud?”

Josh shrugged and forced a weak laugh. “We were just kidding around.”

“From this goofball, I expect it,” Jaden said, pointing at Benji, who didn’t seem to mind the insult. “But you?”

“It was a joke,” Josh said with a weak smile.

Jaden looked at him for a moment, then said, “That stinks.”

She turned and just walked away, heading straight for the water, where she waded out to her knees before diving in and disappearing beneath the sparkling surface.

Benji flopped back down on the blanket, still chortling to himself as he plastered the sunglasses onto his face. Josh’s dad scooped up a pile of paper plates, cups, and empty cans and headed for a nearby trash can, shaking his head.

Josh turned to his mom and asked, “What should I do?”

She looked up from cleaning his little sister’s face and said, “Go tell her you’re sorry, Josh.”

“We didn’t mean anything bad,” he said.

His mom gave him a hard look and said, “I saw the way you and Benji acted when she talked about Mickey Mullen and his son, so I don’t think you should try to tell me that you didn’t mean anything bad. I don’t think that’s quite truthful.”

“Well,” Josh said, looking down at the grass and picking a few thin blades with his bare toes before he looked back up. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

His mom’s eyes drifted to the spot where Jaden had disappeared beneath the water’s green surface. “I don’t know, but she’s your good friend, so you better go try.”

THE VERY NEXT WEEK,
their bus pulled into the Beaver Valley Campsite in the pouring rain. The cabins looked dreary on the hillside under the eaves of a dark green woods that carpeted the mountains as far as the eye could see. The bus stopped in a gravel lot next to the main lodge and everyone piled out into the storm, grabbing their duffel bags from under the bus and trudging to their cabins through the puddles.

Jaden and her doctor dad—who had decided to make a vacation out of her writing assignment—headed toward one of the smaller cabins at the far end of the line.

“Can I help you?” Josh asked Jaden, reaching for one of her two big suitcases.

“I got it,” she said, snatching it away from him.

Josh stood and watched her go, crestfallen, until she twisted her head around and said, “Thanks anyway, though.”

It wasn’t much, but Josh was grateful for even a small sign that she had forgiven him for the prank he and Benji had pulled on her at Green Lakes. Since then, things hadn’t been the same between them. He was hoping that the time they’d get to spend together during the coming week might change that and get things back to normal. Josh carried his mom’s and sister’s bags along with his own while his dad held an umbrella to protect his mom and sleeping sister as they walked.

“Use that for Josh,” his mom said.

“No, Mom,” Josh said. “Why?”

“You’ve got to keep that incision dry,” she said.

“Mom, cut it out. That was until I got the stitches out,” he said, tracing a fingertip along the ridge of scar tissue running across his cheekbone. He remembered the color of his face in the mirror that very morning. The bruising had faded over the weeks from a deep purple to a sickly yellow, and the scarlet gash had begun to grow pink. At least his eye worked, and he could play.

His mom gave him a worried look, patting Laurel’s head, which was slumped on her shoulder, as she said, “I just don’t like it. It looks…well, I don’t know, very sore. I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Josh said. “Really. I haven’t even
taken an Advil in over a week. It’s all good and I’m ready to go.”

“Laura,” his father said, taking her by the arm. “Come on. Josh won’t melt.”

Josh followed, and Benji slogged along beside him without looking up.

Halfway to the cabin, Benji said, “I can’t believe you won’t give me the top bunk.”

“Lido,” Josh said, dropping his hand from his face, “you bounced around up there like a monkey the last time we shared a bunk. The springs squeaked in my face all night, and I kept thinking you’d be busting through.”

“You can’t be a heavy hitter if you’re a lightweight,” Benji said, stamping in a puddle. “Look at Manny Ramirez. Look at the Babe.”

“The Babe? That was back in the thirties,” Josh said. “Nutrition was, like, a bacon sandwich.”

“Animal protein,” Benji said, nodding. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m taking top,” Josh said.

“All this freaking mud,” Benji said, stamping. “I’m gonna have your footprints all over my sleeping bag.”

“Just ’cause you stepped on my bed to get to the top doesn’t mean I’ll do it to you,” Josh said. “That’s what the ladder is for. I kept telling you that.”

“I’d appreciate that courtesy,” Benji said in earnest, hurrying now to hold the door open for Josh’s family as they wiped their feet on the rope mat of the cabin’s front porch.

“Benji, you are such a gentleman,” Josh’s mom said, holding Laurel tight as she slipped quietly into the cabin to lay her down on the bed.

Josh rolled his eyes.

“See?” Benji said as they shed their wet coats and dumped their bags down inside the tiny back bedroom. “I’m like a magnet for women.”

“That’s my mom, Lido.”

Benji shrugged. “I’m just saying. You can’t turn it on and off—you’re either suave or you’re not.”

“Suave?”
Josh said, unrolling his sleeping bag on the striped mattress of the top bunk. “That’s like a shampoo.”

“
Suave
means smooth,” Benji said. “Sophisticated. Stylish. Hip. A chick magnet.”

“Lido,” Josh said, “sometimes I think it was you who got hit by a beanball.”

In the front room, Josh’s mom worked in the tiny kitchenette while his dad stood holding back the curtain and looking out over the baseball field and a murky pond.

“Hope it stops soon so we can get in a little practice after dinner,” he said. “Get tuned up for tomorrow.”

“You think we’ll even play tomorrow?” Josh asked, eyeing the thick gray sky.

“Forecast is sunshine,” his dad said. “Depends on if it dries out. This field is a mud hole, but the Dream Park fields are supposed to be the latest and greatest, all sixteen of them. I’m sure they’ve got good drainage.”

“Can we go into town with the guys?” Josh asked. “Someone said the camp has a shuttle bus that goes every hour, and we want to see the Hall of Fame.”

“Sure,” his dad said. “I’d go with you, but I promised your mom I’d help get unpacked. You guys just be back by dinner.”

“I don’t know,” Josh’s mom said, turning from the refrigerator and wringing her hands. “Maybe you should rest.”

“Mom, seriously. Cut it out,” Josh said. “I’m going to look like a freak out there as it is; you don’t have to treat me like one.”

“You’re not going to look like a freak,” his mom said, referring to the dark blue padded mask that would protect his face. “You’ll look like a child with parents who care about his health and well-being.”

“Actually,” Benji said, “you kinda look like Jason from
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
.”

Everyone turned to stare at Benji.

“No, but I mean in a good way,” Benji said, blushing and holding up his hands. “Like you’ll scare the other team. I mean, in a good way. Scare, like, intimidate them. Give us that winning edge. You need an edge, right, Coach LeBlanc? You say that, right?”

Josh’s dad sighed heavily. “That’s right, Benji.”

Benji nodded proudly.

“Come on,” Josh said.

“Take the umbrella,” Josh’s mom said. “And you two
make sure you ask Jaden. She’s your friend, and you don’t want her feeling uncomfortable with all these boys.”

“Of course,” Josh said, leading Benji by the arm. “Not that you have to worry about Jaden.”

“She’s very shy,” his mom said.

“Yeah, but she’s never uncomfortable,” Josh said, creaking open the cabin door and stepping out onto the porch before snapping open the umbrella. “She doesn’t care what anyone thinks.”

“You better believe that,” Benji said, scooping up his Red Sox hat and following Josh out the door. “I told her she shouldn’t pull her hair back like that and she told me if she wanted my opinion, she’d submit a request in writing. So far, nothing.”

“Nothing what?” Josh asked.

“In writing.”

Josh studied his friend’s face for a moment before Benji pointed over his shoulder and said, “Hey, look. Jaden.”

They slogged through puddles along the gravel path following Jaden toward the main lodge, shouting her name over the steady hiss of rain until she pulled up short in a shiny red raincoat with a hood.

“Hey, guys,” she said, looking slightly nervous. “What’s up?”

“We were gonna come get you,” Josh said. “Baseball Hall of Fame is what’s up.”

“Picture with me next to the Babe’s statue,” Benji said. “Kind of a next-generation thing. You know, heavy hitter from the past and the future. Figure I can market signed copies on eBay.”

“Oh,” Jaden said.

“It was a joke, really,” Benji said, obviously disappointed not to get a rise out of Jaden.

“I’m gonna get mine with Hank Aaron. Hammering Hank,” Josh said. “That’s my man.”

“Nice,” Jaden said stiffly.

“Hey,” Josh said, pointing toward the driveway of the main lodge.

In front of the shabby-looking, powder blue shuttle bus—with “Beaver Valley Campsite” painted in chipped letters on the side—rested a long, sleek limousine. The car glowed white like a spaceship with smoky windows trimmed in little blue lights and the rain spattering uselessly off it.

“I wonder who that’s for,” Benji said.

Jaden glanced over and bit her lower lip. “Umm, I think it’s for me.”

“You?” Benji said.

“You’re kidding,” Josh said. “What for?”