Center Field (11 page)

He scrambled up yelling, looking for a rock to throw. The van careened around a corner. By the time he untangled the bike from the bushes alongside the road and took off after the van, it was out of sight.

Deep breaths. A dozen
BillyBudds
. He shivered all the way home. He'd fallen off his bike before, even been run off the road a couple of times. But this was different. This was personal.

It had looked like Nick in the Cyber Express. Zack's van. Why?

And who was driving?

His mind felt like a car engine being braked and accelerated at the same time, snarling, whirring, going nowhere.

He didn't know if he was glad or sorry no one was home. He didn't want anyone to see he was still trembling, but he wanted someone to talk to.

He fed the cat and changed her water for something normal to do. His right shoulder felt sore when he stretched his arm.

What's wrong with you, Mike? You've taken hard hits before. You've had your bell rung in football.

That was different, he thought. That was a game.

His hands stung from scrapes. He went into the bathroom to check his face, which was beginning to sting, too. A few long scratches on his right cheek. Good thing he'd been wearing his helmet.

He nuked the dinner Mom had left and took it upstairs.

Think this through.

It had looked like the Cyber Express, looked like Nick. But it happened too fast to be sure of anything. Eyewitness accounts were often faulty on the crime shows. Where's the evidence? And what was the motive? The sharp-faced, sexy cops and assistant DAs who looked like Kat always asked those questions.

Kat. Would she know who was in the van? What was the big secret project she couldn't talk about yesterday?

He sent her a text. Wassup?

His cell beeped almost immediately. It was Lori. She wanted him to call right away.

It was a long, boring, one-sided conversation. Her words were slurred. She'd taken a pill to calm herself down. She
was sorry she'd been so cranky at lunch, but she'd been bummed about Boston. Not being able to do the fire sticks routine had set back their schedule leading to the national championships. He knew she was as dedicated to twirling as he was to baseball, that she had always been willing to listen to him even though he never actually said that much. But he could barely concentrate. All he could think about was the white van. He felt sad that he didn't want to talk to her about it. He was grateful when she started to mumble, realized she was falling asleep, apologized, said she loved him, and hung up before he had to say anything to her.

He was calmer now. The shaking had stopped.

He had more than a dozen texts and voice mails. None were from Kat. There were three missed calls from a blocked number. Just before he shut off his cell, he answered the fourth call from a blocked number. He thought he could hear breathing on the other end, but after the third time he said, “Hello?” the phone went dead. He thought it sounded like Kat's breathing. That's nuts, he thought. When have you listened to her breathe? You just want it to be her.

Makes no sense. But it also makes no sense that Nick would door you.

Billy Budd looked down at him from the poster and said,
Get your mind into something else, young baller.
It was in his book.
Overanalysis can lead to paralysis.

He found an old
Law & Order
he had only seen twice. His shoulder hurt and his ankle joined in. Excuse enough to take a Vic. He didn't pay attention to the show. He knew who the murderer was. He watched the way the detectives barked at suspects, so sure of themselves, and the way the female district attorney whipped her dark hair. He was drifting off to sleep when he heard his parents come home.

 

Usually, with a game that afternoon, he would have driven to school Tuesday morning. After a game, sweaty and beat, it was easier to jump in and take off than pedal home. But he didn't want to give Nick or whoever the satisfaction that he'd been scared off his bike. Don't mess with the Mak. What was he going to do when he caught up with the little bastard?

Something felt different in the halls. It took him two periods to realize it was the way the geeks and freaks were looking at him. Usually they turned their heads and gave jocks space. Today they were glaring and muttering. Somebody bumped him from behind on a stairway. When he got to his locker after the second period, he found a picture of a rat taped to the door.

Zack and the Chinese kid were absent from his history class. Kat wasn't in Social Issues. He looked for Nick. Nowhere. He had no idea what was going on until lunch.

Ryan said, “I got your back, man.”

Lori sat down next to him. “I can't believe you let me go on and on last night, Mike.” She squeezed his thigh under the table. “Thank you so much for being there for me.”

“What's going on?”

Ryan said, “If you ever answered your cell or read your texts….”

“Mr. Cody shut down the Cyber Club yesterday afternoon,” said Tori. “Zack and everybody in the club are at the superintendent's office.”

“Why?”

“Because somebody,” said Andy, looking at Mike, “finally had the balls to stand up to those pukes.”

Before the game Coach Sherman said that Coach Cody was away on district business. Oscar was home with a sore hamstring. Mike Semak was starting in center field.

Mike felt as though he had just come back from the flu, finally clearheaded and pain free after days of misery, but still a little weaker than normal. Center field somehow seemed different, smaller, the grass scrubbier. He was trapped in a box. Had something changed?

He figured his first chance in the field would change it back, but it didn't. An easy fly to short center he hardly had to move to catch. He squeezed it hard, afraid it would pop out of his glove.

Over in left, Eric Nola shouted, “Way to go, Mak!” Nola was very happy to be back in the lineup. Mike looked over at Ryan, who threw him a fist. Mike thought, Did I look unsure of myself? Do they think I need encouragement to
make a simple catch?

He didn't embarrass himself at bat, a walk and a single in four appearances, but he didn't distinguish himself either. It was a long, sloppy game. The sophomore first baseman who had replaced Andy hit a home run with two on, and Willie Lockett with Kevin Park in relief managed to keep Valley Hills from ever closing the gap.

In the locker room Craig swaggered over and threw an arm over Mike's shoulders. “Friday night barbie at my house after the game. Bring your twin.” It was the first time he'd been invited to one of Craig's legendary parties.

Todd fist-bumped him. “You got my vote, Mike.”

Andy caught up with him on his way out. “The Ridgedale idol. What's it feel like?”

“I didn't nark the Cyber Club.”

“You are Jack Bauer,” said Andy. “You should change your number to twenty-four.”

Maybe you're Jack Bauer, thought Mike. I told you too much. Mike cursed and brushed past him.

Lori was waiting for him. The cheerleaders had just finished their practice. “We're going to Craig's,” she said, almost jumping up and down. Tori was honking the car horn.

“How come everybody thinks they know my business?” His voice sounded whiny to him.

She just laughed at his scowl. “It's so funny, you never read your email, your webcam's never been activated, your cell is never on, no speed dial, you live back in the twentieth century, and you're the one to expose the Cyber Club.” She went up on her toes to kiss him. “Call you later. Gotta go.”

 

Dad's Lexus and an old white van were in the driveway. For a moment he thought it was the Cyber Express. Then he saw its New York license plates. Still, he was surprised to find Oscar and Ferdy at the kitchen table, drinking coffee with Mom and Dad.

Mom said, “Mike. I know you know Oscar, and this is his dad, Ferdy.”

Ferdy stood up, wiped his hands on his jeans, and offered a hand to shake. It was hard and callused. Oscar looked up and nodded. He didn't look happy.

“How's your hamstring?” said Mike.

Oscar looked confused. “What?”

Dad cleared his throat. “As far as other people are concerned, Oscar and Ferdy will be, uh, staying with us for a while.”

“How come?” said Mike.

Dad and Mom looked at each other. “Be closer to work and school,” said Dad.

Ferdy looked at his watch and said something in Spanish.
Oscar stood up and said, “Later, man.”

Mike watched them leave, Ferdy smiling, almost bowing his way out, Oscar swaggering off. He waited until he heard the van doors slam outside. “What the hell's going on?”

“Don't use that tone on me,” snapped Dad.

“Easy, Scott.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Dad looked sorry. “Trust me, this is more than you want to know.” He looked at his watch, then at Mom. “We've got to get back. The accountant's coming over. Oh, one other thing.” He pointed at a small blue duffel bag on the floor near the kitchen table. The name tag dangling from its handle said O. Ramirez. “Would you throw that in Scotty's room.”

“Why?”

“Please,” said Dad over his shoulder on his way out.

Mom pressed a twenty-dollar bill into his hand. “I'll explain everything later. It'll be fine. Don't worry about it. Get some pizza.” She kissed him and followed Dad out. He watched her go out. Not like her at all. She thought he ate too much pizza. What the hell's going on?

 

He called Lori. She squealed. “I can't believe you called.”

“The cat dialed for me,” he said.

“I believe that. So now you have to tell me the whole story.”

“I feel like I'm the only one who doesn't know it. What's going on?”

“Tori heard that Mr. Cody changed the locks on the Cyber Club's room, and he's got, like, the FBI searching through their hard drives.”

“Why?”

“Oh, Mikey.” She wailed. “Don't do this! They could torture me. I wouldn't tell anyone anything you told me.”

“I didn't turn them in. I never gave Coach any incriminating information about the Cyber Club.”

“Okay.” She sounded disappointed. “Tori heard Mr. Cody boast to somebody that he had the Cyber Club right where he wanted them and we figured…”

“It wasn't me.” He thought about Cody and Oscar both missing practice and then the Ramirezes showing up at his house. “Tori hear anything about Oscar Ramirez?”

“The district office was checking his address to see if he was eligible to attend Ridgedale. I think somebody complained.”

“That wasn't me either.”

“Nobody would blame you, you should be playing center field….”

Another call was coming in. Somehow he knew it was Kat. “I got to go now, talk to you later.” He clicked Lori off in mid sentence.

Before Kat had a chance to speak, he said, “Why'd you make those calls and hang up?”

“I wanted to know you weren't hurt.” Her voice sounded tentative, almost afraid.

“How'd you know about the van?” He dreaded the answer.

“Nick told me.” She clicked off.

It was almost midnight when he heard the Lexus roll into the driveway. The garage door hummed up, hummed down. Car doors opened, closed. His parents clattered through the garage into the kitchen. The refrigerator clicked open. Dad was having a beer. The laptop on the kitchen counter told Mom she had mail. He went downstairs.

“You're still up,” said Mom. “Would you like something?”

“Some answers. What's going on?” She looked tired. He felt guilty sounding like the cops on
CSI
.

“You deserve answers,” said Dad smoothly. “Tomorrow, when…”

“Tonight.” It came out more harshly than he had intended.

Dad's head jerked up. Mom looked down at her laptop and said, “It's been a very long day and night and we…”

“Long for me, too. Everybody thinks I ratted out the Cyber Club.”

Dad and Mom looked at each other. He said, “Did you?”

“How can you ask me that?” Mike was shouting.

“This isn't like you, Mike,” said Mom soothingly, like she was calming an angry dog.

BillyBuddBillyBuddBillyBudd
. “But being a rat is like me?”

“You had good reasons,” said Dad. “And you weren't wrong.”

Mike felt confused. What did Dad know? Was he talking to Cody? “I wasn't wrong about what?”

“You reported what you considered unlawful behavior.” Smooth old Dad. Mike could imagine the anchor slipping off the boat into the water. Does the bullshit rise? “Misuse of school property—the computers—for what appeared to be unauthorized activities. Good for you. Turns out these were communication slipups, and I'm glad you brought them to the attention of people who can set things straight. Can we go to bed now?” He was smiling.

Mom said, “Scott?”

He sighed. “Yes, Sharon.”

“Tell him.”

“He's got enough on his mind.”

“Scott.” It was almost a bark. He'd forgotten how tough Mom could be.

“Now, Mike,” said Dad, “we're going to work this all out.”

“Work what out?”

Mom said, “Tell him or I will.”

“Okay.” Dad rubbed his hands together, the way he did when he was getting ready to make a sales pitch. Wait till you see this fabulous floor we've got for you. “So. Zack's mother is making a fuss. She's threatening to sue the school and us, says Zack has headaches and neck spasms since you pushed him. This was all in response to Mr. Cody shutting down the Cyber Club and suspending some of the members. They'll drop the suits if the club is reinstated.

“I worked out a plan with Mr. Cody to make this go away. He'll reinstate the club and the students if we help him out with a little immigration problem. Seems the Ramirezes are a tad short in the papers department. But if we establish an address for them here, at least Oscar will be eligible to attend Ridgedale and play ball.”

“So Oscar and his dad are going to sleep here?”

“As far as people are concerned, yes,” said Dad. “But not really. He left that bag here if anyone checks.”

“So we're going to lie?” Mike's stomach hurt.

Mom came over and put a hand on the back of his neck. “This is just for a little while,” she said. “It'll blow over. I know it's upsetting for you, but with the new store opening…” She kissed his cheek and hugged him.

“The new store.” It just fell out of his mouth like a stone. “That's the only thing going on in the world.”

He was about to apologize, but Dad raised his hand. “Let's not forget something, Mike. All this started when you slugged that little puke.”

“Scott!”

Dad raised his arms, palms up. “Am I missing something here?”

“You're right, I started all this,” said Mike. His mind was racing. Need to end this conversation right now.

“Look, Mike, there's a lot of things going on here.” Dad dropped hand on his shoulder. “For now, just concentrate on playing the best center field you can. It'll all work out.”

Somehow that made Mike feel better. It was a plan. “You can count on me.”

“I knew that,” said Dad.

 

He figured he'd never get to sleep tonight, so he logged on to the Buddsite. There was an alert. Billy has narrowed the candidates for his A Day With Billy contest to three—one each from New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut. All
terrific, tough choice, results after the weekend series with Baltimore.

He tried to imagine a day with Billy. What would they talk about? Center field? Could he tell Billy about Oscar? No, that's stupid. He pushed Oscar out of his mind. The idea of Oscar even pretending to be next door in Scotty's room made him angry.

What was the deal with Coach Cody and Dad? Who was playing whom? Have to think that all through. Andy would be the one to talk to about that.

And Kat. She must have been driving. She thinks I'm a snitch. She hates me. That's why they doored me. So why did she call to see if I was okay? Does she know it wasn't me who told Cody? If I'm not the snitch, who is?

Mike was suddenly very tired. He logged off and fell into bed.