Boys in Control

  The day didn't seem quite as sunny, somehow, as it had before.

  Perhaps because they were out of sorts, everything seemed to irritate them. Peter had a spring cold, for one thing. His nose was dripping and he snuffled constantly.

  When they got home and were getting out the cheese and crackers, Josh said, “Peter, you're disgusting! Wipe your nose, will you?”

  Peter started to run his sleeve along under his nose, but Wally yelped, “Not snot on your sleeve! Get a Kleenex or something!”

  Peter looked around the kitchen for a box of tissues and, not finding any, dug around in the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a rag. As he wiped his nose with that, he smeared chocolate across his face.

  “Yuck!” Jake yelled. “What's that?”

  Peter looked at the rag in his hand. “Chocolate,” he said.

  “Where did you get it?”

  “When I was having dinner at the Malloys',” Peter said. And because his brothers were still staring, he added, “I went out in the kitchen and took some of their fudge pie, but then I saw Caroline coming, so I grabbed the dishcloth and wiped my mouth and stuffed it in my pocket so she wouldn't see.”

  Jake's face was wrinkled in disgust as he studied the rag in Peter's hand. “Now it's got chocolate and snot all over it!” he said. “What a weird dishcloth. It looks like it's got elastic, too!”

  Josh leaned over. “It's got words all over it!” He looked even closer. “The words say Let's play ball !”

  Wally took the rag from Peter's hands and shook it out. Then he held it up by two fingers. The four boys gasped in unison, for Wally was holding a pair of girls’ underpants—old underpants with worn elastic and holes all over.

  “Let's play ball!?” croaked Jake. “They could only be Eddie's!”

  “You mean you've had Eddie's underpants in your pocket all this time?” Wally asked Peter.

  Peter shrugged, not knowing if his brothers were angry or not. In a small voice, he said, “I thought it was a dishcloth. It was just lying up there on the counter.”

  Suddenly the kitchen erupted in wild shouts.

  “We're saved !” yelled Jake.

  “We'll get our pictures back!” cried Wally.

  “We'll wash these up and parade them all around school unless the girls make a trade,” said Jake.

  “Man oh man oh man, have we got them over a barrel!” said Josh.

  “Life is sweeeeeet!” said Jake, waving the underpants over his head like a lasso.

  “Let's call over right now and tell them what we've got,” said Wally. “I'll bet they bring back those pictures in a hurry.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jake told him. “Not till after the championship game. I don't want to get Eddie mad before a game.”

  “And maybe we won't even tell them then,” said Josh. “Let's just keep these Let's play ball! underpants secret until a really good time to tell them comes along. It's our ace in the hole. It's our lucky break. Have you got that, Peter? Not a word!”

  Fourteen

  Game Three

  The next-to-the-last game was to be played in Weston, and almost everyone was going.

  “Of course I want to see Eddie and the Badgers win,” Coach Malloy said that morning, tucking a sweater over his arm, “but I've had to get a substitute to work with my next year's players these last three Saturdays. If the Badgers win, though, it will be worth it.”

  “And if we don't win?” asked Eddie. “Are we zero? Zip? Zed?”

  “If you don't win but you played your best, you're still my spunky gal Eddie, and I'll love you just as much,” said her dad.

  Caroline had long suspected that Eddie was her father's favorite because she shared his love of sports. At the same time, she knew that if she or Beth ever really needed him, he'd be there for them. It was simply a question of where he'd rather be—at a baseball game watching Eddie pitch, in the living room watching Beth read a book, or at a theater watching Caroline perform. Duh, thought Caroline. No question at all.

  “Well, I'm ready,” said Eddie. “Jake and I play well together. It's good we're on the same team.”

  “Now, that's a switch,” said her mother.

  It wasn't a long ride to Weston, and Caroline didn't have much time to work on her play on the drive there. She had brought her tablet in case the game proved to be slow and boring, but she doubted, from the last two games, that that would be true.

  At the high school ball field, the Malloys saw the Hatfords sitting up in the bleachers and went over to sit beside them. Caroline, however, sat as far away from Wally as she could get, because she didn't want Beth to even begin to suspect that she and Wally had made a bargain—that the gold mine of pictures of the Hatford boys was about to be turned over to the Hatfords themselves in exchange for Wally's taking part in her play.

  “We've certainly lucked out on the weather for the games, haven't we?” Mrs. Malloy said to Mrs. Hatford as she sat down beside her. “Not a cloud in the sky! After all the rain in April, I'd say we deserve a little sunshine, wouldn't you?”

  “We certainly do,” said Mrs. Hatford. “The last thing I want on a Saturday in May is to have these four boys moping about the house because it's raining. Baseball gets us all out. Of course, Tom and I have had to take three days from our jobs to get to the games, but we enjoy it.”

  Out on the field, the players were warming up. The nine members of the Buckman Badgers were throwing the ball to each other in quick succession and then, at the coach's whistle, reversed the order of throw. They did limbering exercises and leg stretches. Finally, when all members of both teams were accounted for, the Buckman Badgers took their positions on the field, Eddie pitching this time, Jake on first base. The game began.

  Eddie adjusted her cap with the big B on it. She was ready. She pitched just the way she pitched back home in practice games, and the first two Weston Wolverines struck out. But the third batter hit the ball to right field. The ball rolled out so far, in fact, that when the runner was halfway between third base and home plate, he stuck his thumbs in the top of his pants and slowed his run to a walk. He simply swaggered back to home plate.

  “Well, he's feeling good!” murmured Tom Hatford, laughing.

  The next batter struck out, so the Badgers came in to bat.

  Three Badgers went to the plate before Jake. The first two struck out, the next doubled, and then Jake was up. He swung at the first pitch and missed. On his second swing he hit the ball to center field and started for first base, while the runner on second went to third and started for home. But as his family watched, Jake turned his ankle rounding first base. The center fielder came charging in to throw the ball to home plate. The runner on third was tagged out. Jake, who had sunk to the ground, had managed to stretch out one leg so that he was touching first base. He sat there rubbing his ankle, obviously in pain.

  “Oh, no!” said Mrs. Hatford. “Not at the very start of the game!”

  Jake got up, though, wincing, and rested his weight on his other foot.

  “I think the coach should take him out,” Mrs. Hatford said to her husband.

  “Jake would have to be tortured before he'd admit anything was wrong,” said Josh.

  The coach walked over to Jake and stood talking to him for a moment. Jake smiled and flexed his ankle to prove he was fine.

  Beth clapped. “He's okay!” she shouted.

  Caroline began to wonder about sports. The slightest mistake, it seemed, could cost the game. A ball that was sent flying just two inches above a fielder's glove. A bat that moved only a fourth of an inch too far to the left.

  In the theater an actress had several opportunities to correct a mistake. If she forgot her lines momentarily, she could simply pretend to be thinking. If a telephone rang off cue, she could pick it up and pretend to hold an imaginary conversation. If she tripped on her dress and fell, she could pretend it was part of the action and weave it into the plot. Who would know?

  The game continued much as it had before
, and when the Badgers batted again, Eddie hit the ball so far out that it was hard for a moment to see where it had gone. Around the diamond she went, touching each base, while the people in the bleachers yelled and screamed. The shamefaced Wolverines’ fielder found the ball at last and threw it in.

  The score seesawed between the Badgers and the Wolverines. The Badgers’ right and center fielders collided during the third inning going after a fly ball, and in the fourth the Wolverines argued that Eddie had failed to touch second base while running from first to third. The umpire ruled in Eddie's favor. By the time the game reached the last inning, the score was tied 5 to 5.

  The Badgers’ first batter struck out. The next batter was out on an infield fly. Jake, batting next, tripled to right field, but Caroline could tell he was in pain. He was limping in spite of himself.

  “Tom, that boy should be home with an ice pack on his ankle!” Mrs. Hatford said. “Do you think I should go down and speak to the coach?”

  “I think you should sit right where you are and let Jake and the coach work it out,” said her husband.

  Eddie was up to bat, her last chance to win the game for the Badgers. When the Wolverines saw Eddie take her place in the batter's box, they all moved back. The shortstop moved back. The center fielder, the right fielder, and the left fielder all moved back. The families and friends in the bleachers all leaned forward, knowing how hard Eddie could hit.

  The ball came at her. Eddie tensed, but then held back.

  “Ball one,” said the umpire.

  The next ball came flying toward Eddie, and she let it go by.

  “Strike one,” said the umpire.

  “What's she waiting for?” Caroline heard someone mutter. “She's going to lose her chance if she doesn't take it.”

  Eddie gave a glance at Jake on third, touched the bill of her cap, and set her eyes again on the pitcher. The three boys in the outfield moved back farther still. The third and first basemen also took two steps back.

  The pitcher, without winding up, quickly lifted one foot and threw.

  The second the ball left the pitcher's hand, Jake was on his way toward home. As the ball came to the plate, Eddie turned and squared her body to the pitcher's mound. She slid her right hand up the bat and let the barrel just meet the pitch. It connected with only a little pop, not a pow, and rolled a few feet along the ground, down the first-base line.

  Pandemonium broke out as the pitcher and the first baseman scrambled to pick up the ball and tag Eddie, but she raced past them to first base. There was not enough time to make a play at the plate, and Jake, despite his aching ankle, made it home with the winning run. The Buckman Badgers were on their way to the championship game the following Saturday.

  Three of the Badgers piled on Jake and almost knocked him down. Everyone crowded around him and Eddie.

  “Smart play, Eddie!” said their coach. “Just as we planned. That was the perfect time for a bunt.”

  “I caught her signal,” said Jake. “Everybody thought she'd whack it, but she took them all by surprise!”

  “That's what baseball's about—surprises,” the coach said. “Good game, guys! Congratulations, everybody!”

  On the way home, Caroline listened to her sister chattering happily about the game. She was glad that finally Eddie's wish had come true, the dream Eddie'd had since they had moved to Buckman. If Beth had a dream, as far as Caroline could tell, it was simply to have enough good books to read for the rest of her natural life.

  It was Caroline's dream that seemed farthest away. It would be years yet before she saw her name in lights on Broadway. It not only took talent to get to be a famous actress, she decided, it took patience. She could only get there one small step at a time, beginning with the play she had written for her class. And in a few more days, she and Wally would read it for Miss Applebaum and the fourth graders. They might even perform it on-stage for the whole school. And if they made it to the big stage in the auditorium, who was to deny that someday Caroline might even make it to a big stage on Broadway?

  Fifteen

  Act Three

  When the Hatfords got home from the game and went up onto the front porch, Mrs. Hatford said, “Who left the window open?”

  Wally looked where she was pointing. The window to the right of the front door was raised about six inches.

  “I suppose any one of us could have opened it, Ellen,” said her husband. “It's been a warm May.”

  “But we haven't opened any of the downstairs windows yet, only the ones in the bedrooms,” she declared. “And if I did open it, I certainly would have closed it before we left.”

  “Well, it wasn't me,” said Mr. Hatford.

  Mrs. Hatford looked at each boy in turn.

  “Not me,” said Jake.

  “Not me,” said Josh.

  Wally insisted he had not tried to open it, and Peter didn't even know how.

  “Well, it looks to me as though someone might have tried to get in, then,” said Mr. Hatford. “Lucky for us that old window only opens a few inches before it sticks.”

  “You think one of the girls knows we have Eddie's underpants?” Josh whispered jokingly to Wally. “Maybe one of them was over here looking for them.”

  Wally grinned and shook his head. “All three girls were at the game, remember?”

  “Oh, right,” said Josh.

  “Who would want to rob us?” Mrs. Hatford said as they unlocked the door and went inside. “What do we have except a few items of sentimental value?”

  “Maybe just kids fooling around,” said Mr. Hatford, and after a quick check of the house, to determine that nothing had been taken, nothing was amiss, and no one had been inside, the Hatfords settled down to enjoy the rest of their Saturday with the memory of Jake's winning run.

  Wally had already done his homework for the weekend and was looking forward to being able to do whatever he wanted with the rest of his Saturday and Sunday—namely, nothing. He just wanted to be free to do whatever came into his head. For one thing, he liked to go down to the end of the swinging bridge every spring, especially after a gentle rain, and lift up the large rock that rested just off the path.

  He liked to see if the same kinds of bugs stayed there year after year. He always counted the different ones he found. It was a little like a bug hotel. Maybe bugs, too, liked to get away for the weekend.

  He was squatting down next to the bare patch he'd uncovered and was trying to poke up the bugs that were scurrying around in all directions when he heard the hollow sound of footsteps on the swinging bridge. Looking up, he saw Caroline coming toward him with her tablet under her arm.

  “Goodbye weekend,” Wally murmured to himself. No one on earth could ruin a good weekend faster than Caroline Malloy. He didn't have to be in her old play, though. Sure, she was trying to blackmail him with those pictures. Well, he could blackmail her with Eddie's underpants. Should he do it?

  “Finished!” she called. “My play is done, and all I have to do is type it up. Want to hear it, Wally?” And without waiting for an answer, she said, “Of course you do. Let's go up on your porch.”

  Wait, Jake had said. Let's save the underpants for a time we really need to bargain.

  Well, if this wasn't the time, Wally didn't know what was. He prodded a bit more with his stick. “Can't you read it right here?”

  “All right, Wally,” she said, “provided you pay attention. Act three, scene one: Evening in the cottage by the beach. Nancy is fixing dinner.”

  “Doesn't she ever do anything but eat and faint?” asked Wally.

  “She's just doing her ordinary everyday routine to calm her nerves,” Caroline explained, and continued: “Nancy puts two plates and glasses on the table, then suddenly covers her face with her hands and cries when she realizes Jim is no more.”

  “How does she know he's no more?” asked Wally. “He disappears the day before and suddenly he's no more, and she goes on eating dinner?”

  “Wally, if you keep inte
rrupting you'll never find out,” Caroline said indignantly. “Sometimes you have to wait till things reveal themselves. Please save your criticisms until I've finished.”

  “Okay, but at the end of the second act, she'd fainted, you know. And now she's making dinner….”

  “Well, sometimes you have to just guess what went on in between, Wally. A playwright doesn't have to show every little thing. Obviously she woke up or somebody came along and revived her. The audience has to figure some things out for itself.”

  “Okay,” said Wally.

  Nancy sits down on a chair and turns to look out the open window facing the sea. There is a faint sound of sloshing and sliding offstage. As Nancy stares mournfully out at the waves, her back to the doorway, the sloshing sound grows louder and louder. Nancy covers her facewith her hands and sobs. The sloshing and sliding grows louder still.

  A shadow appears in the doorway behind her and spreads across the floor, and the audience sees a kind of shapeless form coming in sideways, like a mass of primordial green slime, a sort of giant amoeba, and it slithers and slides closer, closer, closer, until Nancy hugs herself, as though she feels a sudden chill. She turns around and screams as the moonlight coming in the window shines on the giant amoeba, and the audience sees that it has the face of Jim. Curtain falls.

  Wally put down his stick and sat back on his heels. “Is that the end ?”

  “No. Just scene one.”

  Scene two: Nancy has fainted again. The giant amoeba picks her up in his arms and puts her on the couch. Nancy wakes up and screams again.

  NANCY: Jim! What's happened to you?

  JIM: Nothing's happened, my darling. I've been an amoeba all along but you didn't know. I was sent from my kingdom down under the sea in disguise to choose a bride. Now you belong to me.

  NANCY: No! No! A thousand times no! Never to breathe in sweet air again? Never to see the sun rise? Jim, how could you do this to me? I thought you loved me.

  JIM: I have a greater love for the netherworld. Come with me and you shall be queen of the waves and caves of the deep. You shall rule over all the sea creatures of night and dark and ocean depths.