Eddie Whatever by Lois Ruby

Author:Lois Ruby [Ruby, Lois]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Middle Grade, Fiction, Middle-Grade Fiction, Middle-Grade Novel, Middle-Grade Novels, novel, Novels, Jewish, mystery, multigenerational, humor, friendship, volunteering, senior citizens, bar mitzvah, community service, social emotional learning
ISBN: 9781728432434
Publisher: Carolrhoda Books
Published: 2021-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

24

You can’t exactly check a person out like a library book. At Silver Brook’s front desk, Judy has Dad sign forms saying we won’t kidnap Lina and hold her for ransom and that we’re responsible if she’s knocked out in a fight on the ball field or bopped by a wild pitch.

While Flambé supervises from inside the building, Mom and Dad and Gabby and I load Lina, her walker, her wheelchair, her emergency oxygen tank, her floppy sunbonnet, her afternoon meds, a half-pint carton of orange juice in case she goes into diabetic shock, ID stuff on a thumb drive, and a baggie full of goldfish crackers that she can suck on even without her teeth. Also her teeth, in a blue plastic box like I keep my retainer in at night.

Flambé cries pitifully as we shut the van door. He wants to escape with us.

At the ballpark, Lina positions her chair along the first base line. When the ump shouts, “Lady, back up before you get beaned,” she rolls back a few spins, then inches closer to the chalk again, shouting color commentary on every play.

She taunts Emanuel, our pitcher: “Come on, you’ve got a bazooka arm, kid. Throw an Uncle Charlie curveball. Throw strikes! Right down Broadway, that-a-boy!”

It’s worse when we’re batting, especially when I come up to the plate. “Here comes the pitch, kid. That’s a meatball, get some lumber on it. Hit it where they ain’t out there. Let’s see a three-bagger, right past the hot corner!” When the ump dares to call, “Stee-rike!” Lina hollers, “You call that a strike? You’re blind as a bat. Here, take my glasses.”

Ump calls for a time-out. “Kid, get your grandma off my field. She’s a public nuisance.”

She’s wheeled back to the bleachers, and Dad locks her chair in place while Gabby blocks the wheels with crushed Pepsi cans.

Hey, we win the game. How could we lose with Lina as our cheerleader?

On the way back to Silver Brook, she says, “That’s the most fun I’ve had since the Hula-Hoop was invented in the fifties.”

So now we’re buddies all of a sudden.

---

Monday afternoon, Lina’s sitting in her wheelchair on the front porch. No red socks, no ball cap. Her eyes seem shrunken.

“Hey, Lina. My baseball coach says hi. He’s wondering if you’re interested in a side gig as our team mascot.”

No response. “Lina?” I snap my fingers near her nose. “You there?” I’m not sure she is, because her eyes are fixed on something way past me. Did she have a seizure? A stroke?

Maybe I should reintroduce myself, like the handbook suggests. “It’s me—Eddie. We went to a baseball game, remember?”

“Who are you looking for?”

“For you! Lina. Halina Kempinski.”

She shakes her head and says in a small, feeble voice, “I am Rivke, but I must never, ever tell anyone.” Her face sinks in, blotched and red, and her eyes swim with tears. “Promise me you won’t tell?”

“Um, okay.”

She clutches my wrist. “Promise me, and I will talk to you, only you.

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