Jennifer smiled. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and tucked it up into her baseball cap, looking as if she meant business.
Fred came loping up, hair all slicked back from swimming, pulling a sweatshirt on over his clothes. He grinned and slapped Trent's upheld hand. “Okay, let's get this grudge match going!”
Jennifer sniffed, casting a glance Stefan's way, who despite being all bundled up in catcher's equipment, looked more rumpled and dustier than ever. “Grudge or grunge?”
Even Jefferson laughed while Stefan just scowled and rubbed his stubby nose. Jefferson tapped his clipboard again. “Okay, you two, let's pick teams.”
In just a few moments, with bodies scrambling to keep up as the team captains chanted names off, two lines of players soon faced each other. Fred and Rich quickly did the hand over hand on the bat Jefferson held out to them, with Fred winning. He smiled. “We'll be the home team.”
Rich's lip curled. “You'll need last ups,” he warned. “We're gonna knock you outta the ballpark!”
Fred looked at Rich's players, and then up and down his line at Jason and the others. He smiled slowly. “You're going to need more than luck,” he promised. “Okay, huddle up for field assignments!”
He looked Bailey in the eyes. “First base.”
“M . . . me?” She stood on one foot and then the other.
“You. You're fast, you think fast. Ting, you're pitching.” Fred rattled off everyone's assignments and they gathered gloves and trotted out to the field to enthusiastic cheers from the rest of the campers in the stands. After a rousing rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner” led by Sousa, the game was on!
Jason took his place in right field. Trent was short-stop, Jonnard center field, Jennifer second base, Henry was catching, Danno was at third base, and Fred in left field. Ting did some stretches, then narrowed her eyes and glared down at home plate, sizing up the first of Rich's batters. She wound up and threw, dead on, and Jefferson loudly called “Steeee-rike!”
She beamed.
Her second pitch sailed past the home plate, down and a little outside. George Anders swung his bat at it threateningly, but held up, and Jefferson called out, “Ball one!”
George hit the fifth pitch, popping it up, and Trent came in a little, catching it neatly. The stands wildly cheered the first out. The smell of popcorn had faded, or maybe Jason was too far out in the field to catch it, but the thought stayed at the back of his mind. Stefan came up to bat and with one swing, he sent the ball sailing over the weathered back fence of the field. Campers came to their feet screaming as it sailed into the bushes and Fred went trotting after to retrieve it. Ting sagged on the pitcher's mound.
Jason and Trent both came in. Trent thumped her on the back. “Good going!”
Bailey walked in, just in time to catch that. Her face went pinched. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean . . . good going. Every pitcher is gonna lose a pitch like that. Ting got it out of her system early, no harm done!” Trent thumped Ting again, who staggered a little.
“Oh.” Bailey looked back and forth. “Well . . . that's good, then!” She hugged Ting.
Ting let out a small sound. Fred showed up, ball in hand, cleaning off the dirt with his sweatshirt before dropping it into her hands. “Got that out of the way. Now let's play!” He grinned. She took a deep breath and nodded.
Ting struck out one and walked one, but the team came to her aid and made the other outs on good plays. By the time they took their ups at the plate and then returned to the field, Jon's line drive had sent Fred across for a score, and the game was tied 1-1.
As the day trudged into dusk, it was 7-7, clearly not a pitcher's duel. Tired, Ting went to sit on the bench, happily munching popcorn, and Fred took her place, drafting Christopher Bacon out of the stands to replace him in center field. And so the day went. Jason had two good hits, a strikeout, and two pop flies. Trent had solid hits but only got around the bases one more time, and as the sun went down in the sky and the mosquitoes began to gather, everyone came to a tired huddle before taking their at-bats.
Jefferson consulted his clipboard. “Listen up, everyone. Because this is the Fourth of July, and FireAnn has a special dinner cooking, and there's going to be a big bonfire after, with some special effects . . .” He winked at this. “Game will be called at the end of this inning.”
Everyone cheered even more wildly. Hunger rattled around inside Jason's ribs. He looked longingly at the bench where Ting now sat with a cone of red, white, and blue cotton candy in her hands. She saw his look and waved back happily. His stomach growled.
Positions had been rotated and new players volunteered from the stands. Stefan was now pacing around heavily in center field, stopping occasionally to lean mockingly on the drooping fence. No one else had hit a home run.
Jason waved his bat, pointed it at the new pitcher, and took up a stance. Not that he thought he'd get a home run, but just to rattle him a little. Tran's face was, as always, closed and unreadable, but Jason thought he saw a flicker in his eyes. He moved on the pitcher's mound and Jason got ready.
He met the ball squarely with the bat. He could feel the impact and followed through on the swing, knowing it was a good one. He sprinted for first base, dropping the bat on the way, head down, digging in his heels, ankle twinging only the barest bit. The ball shot between first base and second base, but he had no time to make it to second and stayed at first on a good, solid hit.
Fred put his hands up over his head and applauded. Jason caught his breath and waited to be brought home. He slapped at a mosquito at the back of his neck, muttering. The sky had gotten very dark, and the hanging lights that festooned the campgrounds twinkled in golden winks, intermingled with lightning bugs imitating them, in slow lazy swarms by the lake's edge. He waited while Trent popped out and then Danno got hit by a pitched ball, so they both moved forward. Then Tran struck Fred out, and Bailey stepped up to bat.
She took her cap off, smoothed back her golden-brown hair, and then put her cap on backward, and settled down at the plate like she meant it. Rich was catching now and grunted something at her Jason didn't quite hear. Bailey's response was to kick a cloud of dirt over the plate, making Rich burst into sneezes and coughs. She tried to look apologetic as she dusted him off. Jason hid a smirk. He tagged up at second. Behind him, he could hear Stefan grumbling about something from his position in center field.
Bailey stepped back into the batter's box. Dusky shadows hid her face except for the determined expression on it as she waggled her bat and settled into a hitter's stance. A lightning bug whizzed by as she began to sing, “Take me out to the ball game, take me out to the crowd, buy me some peanuts and Crackerjack, I don't care if I ever get back . . .”
“C'mon, Tran, let's get this out before Bailey disappears on us again,” Rich sneered.
Bailey wrinkled her nose and tightened her hands on the bat. Out in front of the stands, Henry orchestrated an animated cheer. For which team, Jason couldn't quite tell from the yelling, but it was spirited. The audience sensed a game about to end . . . which meant a dinner about to be served!
Tran pitched. Bailey hit. The ballâsoared.
Jason stood and blinked for a moment, then touched the base as Danno ran his way, urging Jason. “Move, move, move!”
The ball seemed to whistle through the twilight air as it passed. Jason slowed his stride a bit as it arced overhead. Stefan gave a grunt as he began to run. He could see Bailey from the corner of his eye, pounding down the right field line, from home plate to first. It wouldn't . . . couldn't . . . be a home run. Jefferson had straightened from his umpire's stance, taken his mask off and stood, watching the hit ball.
If Stefan caught it, the game was over. If he dropped it, the game was over. Either way, Jason knew he could round the diamond and cross home plate. He dug in happily.
Behind him, there was an immense crash. Jason crossed, then turned around to see that the back field fence was . . . gone . . . and Stefan with it. Danno and then Bailey joined him. They stood, looking at center field. Bailey bounced. “Did he catch it? Did I hit a home run?”
“I dunno,” Jason told her. Jefferson looked at her and shrugged, saying, “I don't know either.”
Grunts and growls came from the thick, prickly bushes on the other side of the fence, as something heaved around in them. Then, slowly, Stefan stood and raised his glove in the air, the baseball nested firmly inside it. The crowd cheered madly and stampeded toward the mess hall.
Bailey rubbed her nose. Then, with a sigh, she turned away. Jason grabbed her wrist. “Hey! That was some hit anyway.”
Jefferson waited till Stefan jogged slowly in from the brush, then he declared the winners.
Â
Bailey cheered up at the bonfire when Lucas sang “Casey at the Bat,” and then, with a startling boom and snap, fireworks began out on the lake. Jason could see the profile of Hightower on a flat raft, setting them off and standing back.
Flowers and sparks of color shot up and bloomed in the dark skies until their ears ached from the noise, their eyes were dazzled, and the smell of the smoke stung their nostrils.
Jason heard Rich as he leaned over and whispered to Stefan, “Not as good as ours are gonna be!”
Gavan Rainwater heard also. He turned his head, and leaned into the conference. “Actually . . . those
are
your fireworks. We cannot thank you boys enough for contributing to the holiday.” He winked before walking off to join Eleanora and Dr. Patel.
Rich's jaw dropped and he blinked in disbelief as he stared at the lake. “Oh, man. . . .”
Stefan scratched at a welt and prickle and thumped his friend on the shoulder in sympathy, a tangle of brush still hanging from his shirt. “Hey, at least we got to see 'em. And we did win the game 'cause I jumped the fence an' caught that ball.” He reached at the weed in distraction, scattering leaves and grass and dirt all over both of them.
The night ended in a great burst of fountains, big and little, and sky rockets zooming all over the lake. Ting let out a contented sigh as they said good night before heading off to their cottage.
In the morning, Rich and Stefan were first in line at Dr. Patel's door, scratching and broken out in blisters from head to toe. Bailey sailed past them with a wide ear-to-ear grin.
“I,” she said triumphantly to Jason, “hit the ball that put him in the poison oak patch!”
Â
Bailey caught up to the crystal class quickly. In the blink of an eye, she had a cold flame centered in her amethyst. Crystal in the palm of her hand, she smiled at the lantern light within as she showed Ting. Ting's crystal flickered with a heart-shaped pink glow while Bailey's had almost a cat's-eye gleam to it. Trent lit his quickly and snuffed it just as quickly, before even Jason could catch a glimpse of it.
Eleanora stood behind Jason as if she'd also been hoping to see what Trent warmed inside his strange crystal, but she said quietly, “Some Magickers are not comfortable with Fire. Water is more their Element,” before she moved away.
Henry pulled an oven mitt out of his backpack. Rich looked at it and let out a roaring laugh. Henry's face went pink. “What?” he said, waving his bemitted hand about. “FireAnn let me borrow it.”
Rich tried to contain his chortles. “G . . . good thing,” he managed, “it's already singed!”
Henry sighed. Danno gave him a slight shake of encouragement. “I'm ready,” he said. He toed the bucket of water from under the picnic table.
Squibb didn't look all that confident. He pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his bushy hair before taking a deep breath. Jon stood to the side, eyebrow arched in interest, his tall, slender body poised alertly as Henry fetched his crystal out and placed it in the center of the oven mitt's palm.
Frowning, he spoke a single word and the crystal flared up like a Roman candle. One single flame shot upward with a WHOOSH! Birds took wing with cries of startlement, filling the sky. Henry choked and the flame shot down into the crystal and extinguished. The oven mitt appeared none the worse for damage though the air stank of charred hair. When Henry turned to look at Jason, his face stricken, Jason could see why. The hair had been burned right off his forehead!
Gavan cleared his throat. “Better control this time, Henry. In no time at all, you'll have that tamed.”
Stefan grunted. “It'll be like having a flamethrower in your pocket.”
“Useful.” Rich nodded.
“Stuff a sock in it, you two.” Danno took the mitt off Henry's hand and put it back in his pack. “An other day or two and you'll have it.” Henry stood blinking, looking a little stunned.
“Indeed,” said Jonnard. “A bit more practice, is all. Fire is clearly your Element.”
“It is?” Round-eyed, Henry looked around him.
“Well, of course it is. It's eager to answer you. A little too eager, that's all.” Jonnard smiled slightly.
Gavan nodded at Jonnard. Jennifer tucked a strand of hair behind one graceful ear. “Perhaps,” she said, a little shyly, “I could help them read their Elements.”
Gavan looked at her thoughtfully. “That might be very helpful, Jennifer. Think you can do it?”
“I've been studying.” She touched Henry on the shoulder as she came and stood by his side, and paused for a moment, her crystal pendant in hand. “Oh, definitely Fire.” She smiled at Henry.
“Oh.” Henry relaxed slightly, and a lopsided grin came to rest on his otherwise harried looking face. “I'll have to try harder, then.”