#10 Sea City, Here We Come by Martin Ann M

Author:Martin, Ann M. [Martin, Ann M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2013-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

“Come on, pitcher!” Kyle Abou-Sabh shouted. He cocked his bat, ready to smack a practice line drive.

“Kyle, that’s first base,” I said. “Home plate is to your left.”

I gently pushed him in the right direction.

Moon Pinckney was already at home plate, taking some warm-up swings of his own. He seemed to be getting the hang of it — except for one minor thing.

“Uh, Moon,” I said, “take your glove off when you bat.”

“Oh,” he replied.

As he removed his glove, I noticed something else. “And when you do wear it, it goes on your right hand, not your left.”

“But I’m a lefty,” he said.

“Exactly,” I replied. “You’ll be able to leave your left hand free to throw. Besides, look where the thumb is.”

I left Moon staring at his mitt.

Kate Munson was playing catch with Myriah Perkins near the third-base line. Myriah was pitching very gently to her.

And Kate was ducking each throw as if it were a hand grenade.

Richard Owen had brought a tennis ball to the game and looked confused.

Alexandra DeLonge had come dressed in a brand-new designer baseball outfit. She was trying desperately to wipe off a smudge of dust from her right ankle. In the stands, her parents and grandparents were having a champagne picnic and toasting each other.

Sheila Nofziger was picking dandelions in left field.

“Let’s look alive, guys!” I shouted. “The Bashers will be coming any minute!”

Actually, the Bashers weren’t due for another half hour, but we were in dire need of serious practice.

I had gotten a team together, all right. But what a team. Our only hope was that the Bashers would be laughing so hard they’d pass out and forfeit the game.

I’m exaggerating. I was much more optimistic than that. For one thing, we hadn’t lost any more Krushers that week. We still had seven original members. If I kept them all in the game, that meant only two of my new people had to play at any one time. (Of course, I’d rotate them so they’d all have a chance to play.)

Alexandra wasn’t a bad catcher. And I could put the other new player in right field, where he or she couldn’t do much harm. (Why? Because most batters tend to hit to the opposite field: righties to left field and vice versa. So, since most batters are righties, not too many balls are hit to right field. That’s a bit of Kristy Thomas Baseball Wisdom, and you heard it here, folks.)

When the Bashers did arrive, Bart stood by the batting cage and watched the end of our practice. I tried not to talk to him, but he tracked me down.

“Are you sure you don’t want to cancel?” he asked.

“Not on your life,” I said. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Kristy, look, you don’t have to forfeit, okay? We can just drop the game — or postpone it.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I’m not a quitter, Bart.”

He took off his cap, looked out to the field, and scratched his head. “Okay. But, uh, maybe you should tell your outfielders to stop playing patty-cake.

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