The League (5 page)

“You’re thinking of the monster,” said Evan. “Frankenstein is the name of the doctor. The monster is just called the ‘monster.’ ”

“So the doctor dies?” I asked.

“No,” she said with a smile. “I was lying about that.”

I looked over at Evan, who was wiggling her tan
toes to the beat of the music coming from Aaron’s room. “Can I just read the book, please?”

Evan lay back in the lawn chair while I tried to focus on the book. I had read less than a full page when the back door opened and Aaron appeared on the porch.

He looked at Evan first. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Not much,” Evan said. She sounded bored. I guess Aaron was no Brian Braun.

Then, without warning, Aaron kicked my chair so hard I fell sideways onto the porch. “Are you stupid?” he asked me.

I climbed back into the chair. “What are you talking about?”

“Why did you rat on Spencer Randle? That dude’s gonna tear your arms off and beat you with them.”

“I didn’t rat on him. At least, I didn’t mean to. It was a misunderstanding. How do you know about this, anyway?”

“I know someone who knows him.” Aaron shook his head. “Man, he’s gonna make you pay. I should offer to help.”

“Really?” I said, surprised that Aaron cared. “Thanks a lot.”

“Not you!” Aaron snapped. “Him.”

“Why would you do that? I’m your brother!”

Evan wasn’t saying anything. She was just watching me and Aaron go back and forth.

“You dishonored the family,” Aaron answered. He was in the doorway now. “You rolled over on one of your own because you were scared of getting in trouble.”

“He’s not one of my own. I hate him. If he gets in trouble that’s his problem, not mine.”

Aaron stepped into the kitchen but looked back to say, “Your problem is you were born without guts.”

“Who’s Spencer Randle?” Evan asked.

“Nobody.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Evan poked me with the lacrosse stick. “Tell me. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Let’s see,” I said. “In kindergarten he pushed me into the mud. In second grade he stole my cupcake and ate it in front of me. In fourth grade he locked me in the janitor’s closet during the school ice cream party. Last year he dunked my clothes in the toilet during gym class. And earlier this week he stole my lunch money. So no, he’s not really a friend. Oh, and now, he wants to smash my face in because I told the principal he was going to Pilchuck Market for a corn dog.”

Evan chewed on her thumbnail. “So don’t let him,” she said casually.

“You don’t understand,” I said, closing
Frankenstein
. “Spencer Randle is a monster. If he really does
know it was me who told on him, he’s going to use my face as his own personal punching bag.”

“Then you’re a chicken,” Evan said.

“Thanks,” I said. “I prefer to think of it as sensible.”

“So you’re just going to hide from him for the rest of your life?”

“You have a better idea?”

“Yeah,” said Evan. “Turn the tables. You find him. Tell him it was you and that you’ll do it again if you have to.”

“Are you nuts? He’ll squash me.”

“From what you’re saying, it sounds like he was going to do that anyway. If you confront him, at least you get it over with.” Evan peeled herself up from the back of the chair, stretching out her arms and yawning. “Or maybe you’ll pop him one and earn a little respect for once.”

I watched the mosquitoes swarm around the porch light while Evan’s last words swarmed in my head. Did she mean that I needed to earn a little respect from Spencer Randle, or from her? Because I didn’t really care what Spencer thought about me, but I sure cared what Evan thought.

A few minutes later, Mom poked her head outside. “Oh, hi, Evan,” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mrs. Parker,” Evan replied, craning her neck to look Mom in the eye.

“Wyatt, it’s time to come inside,” Mom said.

“I should go anyway,” Evan said with a wave. “In a while, crocodile.”

“On your pillow, armadillo,” I replied.

Evan laughed as she disappeared around the fence. I went inside smiling.
Let’s see Brian Braun make Evan laugh like that
, I thought.

After the PA incident, Mr. Groton suspended Spencer for the rest of that week and the whole next week, so the hallways of Pilchuck Middle School were safe for seven whole school days. I knew it was only temporary, but I tried to enjoy the peace. I even ate lunch outside again. I tried to convince Francis to come too, but he went back to Mr. Leland’s room.

McKlusky and Raj were on the grass, throwing the football. “You want to play?” McKlusky asked, tossing the ball to me.

“Sure,” I said, catching the pass.

We passed the ball around until the bell rang. Raj showed me how to grip with my hand farther back
on the ball. Pretty soon, I was throwing faster and straighter and catching almost everything. I wished Evan could see me.

Catching a football was great, but it was nothing compared to what happened in my baseball game on Saturday. Even though it was only a rec league game, I would never forget the way it ended. And Evan was there to see it all.

It was the final inning of our last game of the season and we were down a run. I was on second base, Julian was on third, Fish was at the plate. If I made it home, we’d win, and we’d go down to Corner Pizza to celebrate. If I didn’t score, we’d end the season without a win, and we’d probably go down in history as the worst rec league baseball team in the world. I was so focused on not blowing the game, I wasn’t even thinking about Spencer Randle.

I was running the instant Fish hit the ball, leaving second base behind in a cloud of dust. Ahead of me, Julian was cruising for home. He was the tying run. That meant it was up to me to win the game. I had to cross the plate before the right fielder got the ball to the catcher. Pumping my arms, I breathed deep, forcing my legs to go faster than they had ever gone. I must have been doing fifty miles an hour by the time I got to third base.

Coach Darby stood in front of the dugout, waving
me around the bag. “Go, Wyatt, go!” he yelled. His face was red and pages flew off his clipboard as he swung it wildly.

I charged down the third-base line.

The rest of the guys were jumping up and down. McKlusky clutched his hat. Luther, Shane, and Caleb cheered. Kenny fell to his knees and beat the ground with his hands. Roy, who had bunted me over to second, pointed to the ground with a bat.

I saw the catcher squatting next to the plate. He stuck his right arm straight up into the sky, reaching for the ball. I decided he wasn’t a person, just a thing in my way.

I had time for one more breath before I slid.

I took a big gulp of air, then hit the dirt. Tucking my right leg under my body, I stuck my left foot out and skidded toward the plate.

The umpire yanked his mask off.

The first part of me to hit the catcher was my right knee, which hurt because I was going fast and he was wearing plastic armor on his legs. Then he fell on me. That hurt even more because I was small and he was big. He tagged me with the ball in his glove.

But my left leg was already on the plate.

The umpire aimed a finger at my leg before hollering
“Safe!”
so loud his call echoed off the wall of the grandstand.

Hands reached down and pulled me up.

“You did it, Wyatt!” someone yelled. “You won the game!”

I was so happy. I had never done anything like that in my life. I had never won the game. But I’d done it now. I’d knocked that catcher over and scored the winning run in the last inning of our last game of the season. All ninety-eight pounds of me had taken down the thing in my way. I wondered what else I could knock down.

Could I knock down Spencer Randle?

My whole team mobbed me. They pounded on my helmet and slapped me on the back. I smiled the whole time, even though being hit on the head by eight guys who were all bigger than me was kind of painful.

When the celebration finally ended, I saw Mom and Dad clapping in the bleachers, but it was Evan I wanted to see the most. I broke away from the pack and found her hanging out with a group of her friends from her school, Parkside.

After slipping away from them, she stuck out her fist. “That was so cool,” she said.

It might have been my imagination, but I thought Evan was looking at me the same way she had looked at Brian Braun right before we saw
Swing and a Miss
.

I bumped my fist into hers. “Thanks. I’m not even hurt.”

Evan pointed to my leg. “You might feel it later. Sometimes after a game I’m so amped up I don’t realize something hurts until the next day, and then it’s like, oh man, ouch, when did I do that? But I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

McKlusky ran over and grabbed my arm. “Pizza,” he said. “Now.”

Evan pointed at her friends, who were talking to Julian, Shane, and Luther, who also went to Parkside. “I gotta go too,” she said. “I’ll see you soon.”

I watched Evan run back to the Parkside girls. I was so happy it didn’t even bother me when I saw her chatting with Julian. After all, he hadn’t scored the winning run. I had.

Pizza never tasted so good. “Hey, Wyatt,” said Caleb when we were eating. “You really dumped that catcher on his butt.”

“Yeah,” McKlusky added. “You looked like a running back.”

That was when Julian walked by our table. “Did I hear you right?” he asked, stopping suddenly. “Did I just hear someone say Wyatt could be a running back?”

So much for being the hero
, I thought, feeling half as big as I had a minute ago.

“What’s so crazy about Wyatt being a running back?” Caleb asked.

Julian pointed at me. “You’re talking about this Wyatt, right? He wouldn’t gain a single yard.”

I just looked straight ahead, hoping they’d walk away. Luckily, Julian went over to the video games, leaving me with McKlusky and Caleb.

“How come you let him talk to you like that?” Caleb asked.

“What am I supposed to do? He’s bigger than me.”

“It’s not always about who’s bigger,” Caleb replied.

Roy sat down across from me. “Caleb’s right,” he said. “That catcher was bigger than you. And you flattened him like a pancake.” He pushed up his sleeves and surveyed the pizza. “If you ran at them like that, they’d probably be afraid of you.”

“Yeah, right,” I said, picking up a breadstick instead.

“I’m serious,” Roy replied. “You were like a wild animal out there.
I’m
a little afraid of you.”

“Me too,” said McKlusky, nodding with his mouth full. “You should play football in the park with us sometime. It’s just for fun.”

“Listen to him,” Roy said. “Nobody messes with football players. And then there’s the girls.”

“Yeah,” said Caleb. “And this summer there’s a flag football league at the rec center.”

“I don’t know,” I told them. “I might be going to golf camp.”

“Golf camp?”
Roy asked in disbelief. He grabbed his sides and pretended to laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” I said, wishing I hadn’t mentioned it.

“Here’s some free advice,” said Roy, wiping his face. “If anyone ever asks you if you’re going to golf camp, do yourself a favor and lie.”

“What’s so bad about golf camp?” I asked.

“Nothing,” said Caleb. “If you’re a hundred.”

“Stick with football,” said Roy, grabbing the last slice of pizza. “Or baseball. Anything but golf.”

When the pizza was all gone, it was time to leave. McKlusky and I found our bags and headed for the door. “Like I said, a bunch of us play football in the park on weekends, usually around noon. It’s just two-hand touch. No tackling.”

“I’ll see if I can make it,” I said as McKlusky and I headed off in opposite directions. There was no doubt in my mind, I wanted to play football with McKlusky and the other guys. The question was whether Mom would let me. And that was something I didn’t think McKlusky really needed to know.

Who cared what Mom thought, anyway? I could handle a game of football. Maybe I’d even plow over
someone like I’d plowed over that catcher. Replaying the collision in my mind, I remembered how my teammates had slapped me on the back. And I could still hear Caleb telling me I should play football. I knew for sure there was no way I would ever feel that way playing golf.

By the time I got to my house, I was six inches taller than I had been when I’d left. And then I did something really, really dumb.