Bases Loaded (5 page)

“Slide, slide!” Coach screamed as I got close to third base. Just as I slid, I saw the ball land in the dirt and bounce past the third baseman. As he ran to get the ball I jumped up and ran toward home. I was halfway there when the ball was thrown home. The catcher caught it and stood there waiting to tag me. I quickly turned back and ran toward third base. I could tell this was not going to end well.

Just then I saw the ball fly over my head and land in the third baseman's mitt. I was caught between third and home. Before the third baseman could tag me, I stopped and turned for home again. This time I wasn't going to stop. I slid just as I heard the ball hit the catcher's mitt. I lay there in the dirt and stared at the ump. The catcher held his glove with the ball on my leg. Finally the dust cleared and the ump made his call: “Safe!”

Yes!
I jumped up. A grand slam! Right there in front of my team, my family, the girls, Luke's grumpy mom at the snack bar—everyone. My teammates ran out of the dugout, and we all jumped around together for a few seconds. I could see Heidi and Diane standing up clapping. It was the greatest moment of my life. Even with a big yellow spot on the front of my pants.

“Your turn,
hermano
!” I said to Graham, who was walking up to the plate.

“Thanks,” he said. Then, turning to Kelly in the front row of the bleachers, he said, “This one's for you,” and gave her a wink. I just laughed and ran to the dugout and slid down the bench.

“Nice hit, Raymond,” Heidi said from the stands.

“Thanks, I—”

“That's the way to swing that bat,” Gramps interrupted, swinging an invisible bat. He almost swung himself right off the bleachers. Dad grabbed him by the arm.

“Yep, just like your old grandpa back in the day,” Dad added.

“Thanks, Gramps!”

I turned back to the game to cheer Graham on.

Graham had a huge smile on his face. His run would tie it all up. He needed to get on base and make it all the way around to keep us in the game. The first three pitches were balls. I could tell he didn't want to walk. He wanted a home run. “Come on, give me something to hit!” he yelled at the pitcher. Our whole team was on its feet. The next pitch was high, but Graham swung anyway.

“Strike one!” the ump called out.

“Come on, give me a good one!” Graham called out again, pounding the plate with his bat. The pitcher took a deep breath and threw as hard as he could. Graham swung hard. It was a line drive to the second baseman, who caught the ball without even having to move. Graham just stood there at home plate. He didn't even have time to run. The game was over, and he was the last one out. I walked up to him and told him “good try.” It didn't seem to cheer him up. He just stood there looking out toward the outfield where his ball was supposed to go.

“Come on, Graham, let's go,” I said. I put my arm around his shoulders, and we walked back to the dugout. We grabbed our bats and gloves. Our parents gave us the ol' “good game” and “you'll get 'em next time” routine. Kelly left to go finish watching her little brother's baseball game at the other end of the park. Diane and Heidi normally would've teased Graham, but they could tell he wasn't up to it.

“At least you didn't have to buy me a candy bar,” Diane said. She slapped Graham on the back.

“Yeah, that was just a lucky catch,” Heidi said as they headed off. “See you guys at school.”

“Nice game, but you might want to work on your bladder control,” cackled Geri. I could tell it would take her a long time to forget about my wetpants episode.

“I told you that umpire was rooting for the other team,” Gramps said.

“Oh, come on, Dad, they're just kids. They're here to have fun,” said Mom. “Right, sweetie?” she added, taking my bat and glove from my arms. “I'll take these home with me.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I said. Graham and I grabbed our bikes and started down the road. It was a silent ride home. Now we had lost two games. Our final year in the minors just couldn't end this way.

THE REST OF
the week was pretty boring. Then Friday came and it was picture day. I wanted a good picture this year. Last year my mom, who is not a professional haircutter, decided she would cut my hair the night before pictures. Let's just say that didn't go so well. My hair was long in some places, almost shaved off in others, and on top there were a few places where the hair stood straight up. I looked like a weirdo. The worst part is that my picture is hanging proudly in our family room for everyone to see. It's also on my grandparents' wall. I couldn't wait to get a new picture this year. Plus, I had been thinking about what Graham had said. You know, about asking Heidi for a picture and giving her one of mine. I decided that's what I would do.

This year's pictures were going to be perfect. The day before, my mom took me to a real place to get my hair cut. After that, she took me to the clothing store, and we bought a brand-new shirt. She let me pick it out and everything. It was a golf shirt. They didn't have the dark blue one I wanted in my size, but the store lady found a light blue one in the back room.

On Friday, I walked to Graham's house before school as usual. I had to wait about five minutes for him to finish getting ready. When he finally came out, I almost didn't recognize him.

“Whoa, what happened to you?” I asked, trying not to laugh. His hair looked all wet and wavy.

“What do you think?” he said with a huge smile on his face. Obviously, he didn't think he looked as crazy as I thought he did.

“Um . . . well . . . it's different,” I said. “You know, just really . . . different.”

“Yeah, it's awesome!” Graham said. “I wanted to look really good for my picture, so I was looking at this magazine at the haircutting place and I saw a cool guy with hair like this and I told the lady that's what I wanted. My mom tried to talk me out of it, but she finally gave in.”

“So what did they do? How did it get all wavy?” I asked. “And why is your hair so stiff?” I added, touching the hard red waves on his head.

“It's gel,” Graham said proudly. “All the movie stars and people like that use it. It's supposed to keep my hair looking like this all day. I have a whole bottle of it. Do you want some for your hair?”

“No way!” I said. “I mean . . . no, thank you. You should save it all for yours.” We started walking quickly to school.

“By the way, check out this new shirt I got last night,” I said.

“Yeah, I noticed it when I first saw you,” Graham said. “It looks a little . . . um . . .”

“A little what?” I asked.

“You know . . . the color,” Graham said. “That light blue looks kind of . . .”

“Kind of cool?” I said, finishing his sentence for him. “Yeah, I thought so too. At first I wanted dark blue, but they didn't have any more in my size. But luckily the store lady told us to wait for a minute and she left and came back with this one.”

Graham had a weird look on his face, like he wanted to say something but just couldn't get it out. By then, though, it was almost time for the bell to ring, so we ran the last block and made it to school just in time. We both walked through the classroom door at the exact same second. Someone immediately yelled out “nice hair,” and the sound of giggling started filling the room.

“Thank you very much,” Graham replied, giving a big thumbs-up sign to the class without realizing they were probably laughing at him. He walked happily to his desk, giving a little wink to Kelly as he passed by. I walked to my desk and sat down.

David's desk was back by mine again. “That's a
pretty
shirt, Raymond,” David said, trying to talk in a girl's voice. “You know I would punch you, but I don't hit girls.”

“What are you talking about?” I said. I looked around the room. Everyone was either staring at Graham and his new wavy hairdo or looking at me. There was only one person who wasn't laughing : Lizzy. She just had a mad look on her face and was glaring at me.

I looked at her, wondering what her problem was. Then I noticed her shirt. It was light blue and looked kind of familiar.
Oh my gosh!
I suddenly screamed in my brain.
I'm wearing the same shirt as LIZZY! I'M WEARING A GIRL'S SHIRT!
I couldn't believe it. How could they sell me a girl's shirt? That just seems wrong. I'll bet that's where that store lady went to find the shirt—the girls' department!

This is just great!
I thought.
Last year I had a lousy haircut, and this year I'm dressed like a girl!
Why didn't my mom tell me it was a girl's shirt? Surely she must have known. I mean, she's a girl. Anyway, it was too late to change shirts. Mrs. Gibson had just started lining us up to walk down to the lunchroom where they would take our pictures.

I looked closer at Lizzy. She was wearing a white skirt and a hair bow that matched her shirt—I mean, my shirt. The whole outfit actually looked good on Lizzy. I looked down at my own outfit, and it seemed to look stranger and stranger the longer I looked.

I walked back by Graham. “Man, did you see what Lizzy is wearing?” I asked. “Did you think I was wearing a girl's shirt when you saw me this morning?”

“Well, kind of,” Graham said. “But you looked so happy that I didn't want to make you feel bad. If I knew Lizzy would be wearing the same shirt, I would've definitely told you. But how could I know you and Lizzy would have the same fashion taste?”

We walked down the hall in single file to the multipurpose room. It was the usual school picture scene: most of the lights off; some big, silver, umbrella-like things on one side of the room; and the risers with the big blue backdrop. Mrs. Gibson lined us up by height. The tallest were directed to the top of the risers. I was in that group, along with David, Diane, Lizzy, and Zach. The medium-size kids were on the next level, and the shortest were in the front. That was Graham, Suzy, Brad, and a couple of other shorties.

The photographer stood back for a better look. “Okay, let's move this young lady in the front over here.” He was talking about Suzy. She quickly moved over by Graham.

He stood back again and squinted. “Hmm, let's see. Back row, let's scoot in a little closer. And would you in the blue shirt switch places with the young man on the end?”

I stepped forward and tried to squeeze past Diane to get to the end.

“Wait,” the photographer interrupted. “Not you. I meant this young lady in the blue shirt.” I was even confusing myself with Lizzy in this shirt.

Finally we were all in the right spots, and the photographer took about five pictures. Then we lined up for the individual photos. David was first. He stood there with a scowl on his face. The photographer tried to make him laugh and told him to say cheese and pizza and a bunch of other things, but his face never budged. Finally, the guy gave up and just took the picture with David's grumpy look.

I stood by Graham and Heidi waiting for our turns. Graham asked me if his hair was still okay or if it had gotten messed up. Heidi and I looked at it and then looked at each other. We both smiled, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was.

“Well, I'm not exactly sure how it's supposed to look. But it's still all wavy and stiff,” I said. I touched the top of his hair. It was hard as a rock.

“Perfect,” Graham said. “These pictures are going to be great.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Except for the fact that Lizzy and I are twins today.”

“No, you're not,” Heidi said. “You're not twins at all.”

“Thanks,” I answered. That made me feel a little better.

“ 'Cause she's wearing a matching bow,” Heidi said, chuckling. “I'm just kidding, your shirt looks fine. Hey, Diane, Raymond's shirt doesn't look like a girl's shirt, does it?”

Diane walked over. “No, it absolutely looks like a boy's shirt,” she said. “But do you think I can borrow it tomorrow?” She and Heidi both busted up. Then Graham followed. I stood there feeling sorry for myself for a moment, but then something came over me and I started laughing. If Heidi and Diane could laugh at my shirt, why couldn't I? It actually cheered me up.

Just then Lizzy walked by. “What's so funny?” she said in her snooty voice.

“Nothing, except that I'm wearing your shirt,” I said between laughs. Lizzy flipped her curls and stormed away.

By the time it was my turn to get my picture taken, I was still smiling from my girl shirt and didn't even have to say cheese.