Rounding Third (6 page)

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Authors: Walter G. Meyer

BOOK: Rounding Third
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Josh got out. Bobby scrambled to get out of
the car also. Mr. Wardell held the ball under his arm and watched Josh walk
towards him.

“Hi,” he said to Josh.

“Hi, you must be Rob’s father. I’m Josh
Schlagel,” he said, extending his hand.

    
They shook. “Bob Wardell.” His dad looked a little puzzled as to who Rob might
be. Meg’s jaw was so slack it might drop off her face any minute. Bobby still
hung back by the car, unsure what was about to happen or why he might be afraid
of whatever that was.

    
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Wardell.” Josh extended his hand again. “And you must be
Meg. I’ve heard lots about you.”

    
Meg’s hands were as glued to her sides as her eyes were to Josh’s face. Bobby
couldn’t watch her paralysis any longer, trotted to her side and whispered,
“This is the part where you say ‘nice to meet you, Josh.’” He grabbed her arm
and held it out for Josh to shake.

    
That broke her spell and she turned and punched her brother in the stomach.
“Nice to meet you, Josh,” she said.

    
“You guys want to play?” Josh asked. “Rob and I will take you on.”

    
Bob looked at his son, trying to confirm that Bobby was Rob, and that Rob
wanted to play basketball. “What do you say, Meg?”

    
“Sure.”

    
As Mr. Wardell and Josh moved away to half-court to inbound the ball, Rob
whispered to his sister, “Try not to drool so much, it’ll make the driveway
slippery.”

    
She hit him again and yelled, “That does it. You boys are going down!”

    
The game quickly became Mr. Wardell on Josh and Rob on Meg. The older man had
played high school ball and was good. Meg was competitive as hell, but Josh was
by far the best athlete on the court and dominated the game. Whenever Mr.
Wardell had him closed off from the basket, Josh would dump the ball off to Rob
who usually made the outside shot to the surprise of everyone but Josh.

Once when Meg was closely guarding Josh, he
stuck his tongue out at her, got her laughing, then blew by her for the lay-up.
By the end of the game, they were all sweaty, laughing and panting.

    
Rob’s father patted him on the back. “Great game. You made some nice shots.”

    
“Thanks,” Rob answered.

    
“But Josh should start for the Cavs,” the older man said, slapping his guest on
the shoulder.

    
“If I were going to play basketball instead of baseball, it would be for the
Bucks, not the Cavaliers,” Josh protested.

    
“That was fun, we’ll have to do that again,” Meg said. Her eyes had rarely
drifted from Josh.

    
“Mom wanted me to throw some chicken on the grill. She’s working. Josh, do you
want to stay for dinner?” Mr. Wardell offered.

    
“Thank you, Mr. Wardell, are you sure it’s okay?”

    
“Yes!” Meg said.

    
“I’ll have to call my mother.”

    
“Of course. Bobby, why don’t you show Josh where the phone is and where he can
get cleaned up?”

    
“Where does your mother work?” Josh asked as they entered the kitchen.

    
“She does some stuff for my dad, especially at this time of year with taxes.
And she does part-time bookkeeping for Trent Flooring. She usually doesn’t work
Saturdays, but she does some of their tax stuff, too, so I guess she went in to
get caught up. I’m surprised my dad’s not at work. This time of year, he
usually does seven days a week.”

    
“I worked all morning, but had to pick up Meg,” his father said as he entered
the house. “I just got home a little before you did. Your mom and I will both
be at the office all day tomorrow.”

    
Rob handed Josh the phone while his father got the chicken out of the
refrigerator. After the phone call, the boys headed upstairs.

    
“So this is your room,” Josh said, hesitating in the doorway before following
Rob inside. The room was neat, but not obsessively so. It had all the trapping
of a teenage boy’s bedroom but somehow without the feeling that a real boy
lived there. Josh looked at the posters of baseball players on the wall.

    
“Gifts from my dad. To inspire me, I guess,” Rob said.

    
“I had this same one,” Josh said, pointing. “My father tore it down. Said we
shouldn’t worship false gods.”

Josh said it with such bitterness Rob could
think of nothing to say, but “Sorry.”

    
It had been so long since Rob had had a friend in his room, he wasn’t quite
sure what to do and for some reason it made him uncomfortable that Josh seemed
to be looking everything over and was fascinated by it all. To Rob it all
looked as drab and uninteresting as it always had.

    
“I’ll get you a towel,” Rob said and led Josh down the hall to the linen closet
and then the bathroom where there were dual sinks. Josh stripped off his shirt
to wipe himself down. Rob washed his face and hands then went to his room to
change shirts.

    
Josh walked in, still carrying his own shirt. “My shirt is soaked. I don’t want
to stink up dinner too bad.”

    
“I doubt Meg or Dad will shower. And we’re eating on the back porch.” Josh
looked dubious. “I know!” Rob went to his closet and after rummaging through
some stuff came out with a sweatshirt.

    
Josh looked at it. “I don’t know if I can wear that.”

    
“It’s an extra-large. My great-aunt sent it to me. She hasn’t seen me since I
was like five. She must think I’m huge.”

    
“No, I meant it’s the Cleveland Browns. I’m not sure I can wear this.” Josh
smiled.

    
Rob slapped Josh’s chest with the shirt then handed it to him. “You can always
wear it inside out, if you don’t think having the Browns’ logo against your
skin will cause a rash.”

    
Josh slipped the shirt over his head. He checked himself in the mirror then
looked at Rob. “Doesn’t it hurt when your sister hits you like that?”

    
“Nah. She’s been doing it for years. I’m used to it.”

    
“She really cranks up. I think she’d kill me if she hit me that hard.”

    
Rob shrugged.

    
“Are your abs really that hard?”

    
Again Rob shrugged.

    
“Let me see.” Josh used the back of his hand to slap Rob’s stomach. “Wow.
That’s like a wall.” He pulled up Rob’s shirt and felt the firm flesh
underneath. “It’s like you’re wearing an iron vest under your skin.” Rob still
said nothing and Josh looked him in the eye, “Do you mind?”

    
Rob shrugged more with his eyes than his shoulders. Josh slapped Rob’s bare
stomach with the back of his hand. Then smacked a little harder. Then made a
fist and lightly punched. “Meg hits harder than that,” Rob said. Josh gave him
a good jab that still didn’t make Rob flinch. “You’ll hurt your pitching hand,”
Rob teased.

    
Josh hit him again harder and said, “I’m impressed. I should be in that kind of
shape. What do you do, sit ups all night long?”

    
Rob’s smile vanished. “Let’s go help with dinner.”

    
Once in the kitchen, Josh and Rob made a salad while Meg attended to the other
dinner details and Mr. Wardell handled the grilling chores. By the time Marilyn
Wardell got home, dinner was ready. As Josh and Rob set things on the picnic
table, Mr. Wardell hollered, “Bobby, the chicken’s WTW, will you bring me a
platter?”

    
The boys walked back inside and Josh asked, “WTW?”

    
Rob told him what it stood for and said, “It’s become this lame little joke in
our family.”

    
“It’s cute,” Josh said. “We don’t have any family jokes.”

    
“How’s the salad coming?” Meg asked as she came in.

    
“It’s done,” Rob answered.

    
“Yep, we’re WTW,” Josh said.

    
Meg smiled. “I see Bobby’s already told you all of our family secrets.”

    
“Not all of them,” Rob said. “He doesn’t know about the bodies in the basement
or what you’ve got hidden in your closet.”

Once everyone was seated at the picnic table
Josh announced, “Rob won the game for us again today.”

    
“You got a hit?” his father asked.

    
“He got the team eight of them,” Josh answered, drowning out Rob’s mumbled,
“No.” While adding funny little asides, Josh filled them in on Rob’s signaling.
“It got me a double. And my second win of the season. I’m two-and-0 thanks to
Rob. Mr. Wardell, you’ve raised a baseball genius. He’ll be managing the
Indians in ten years.” Josh raised his iced tea glass in salute. Rob clinked
glasses, but said nothing wondering how much happier his father would have been
if he had been getting hits himself. 

    
“What do you mean two-and-0 thanks to Bobby?” Mr. Wardell asked.

    
Josh poked Rob in the ribs. “You mean you didn’t tell them? I guess he’s too
modest to brag.” Josh told them about Rob’s keen eye in the first game,
finishing with, “I hope you don’t mind, but when I get drafted by the Brewers,
I’m going to take him with me.”

    
Josh kept them all laughing during dinner with an ease in talking to Rob’s
parents that Rob himself could only dream of possessing. “I should help you
guys clean up and get going. I have homework to do.”

    
“On a Saturday night?” Meg asked.

    
“Yep, with school and baseball all the time, it’s hard to find time to keep my
grades up.”

    
“Do your homework at the last minute Sunday night like everyone else,” she
suggested.

    
“Can’t. We have church on Sundays.”

    
“Sunday night?” Mrs. Wardell asked.

    
“Yes, and Sunday morning. We go eight till noon and then seven till nine.”

    
“That’s more church in a day than we do in a year,” Meg said.

    
“And we go Wednesday nights.”

    
“Well,” Meg said, “Then you really need to go out on a Saturday night. Don’t
you have a girlfriend?”

    
Rob laughed, “Sorry, Josh, I’ll put a leash on her next time you’re over.”

    
She punched her brother in the stomach.

    
“This has really been fun. Thanks so much,” Josh said.

    
They each took some things from the picnic table and carried them into the
kitchen. Mrs. Wardell insisted on cleaning up and Rob walked Josh to his car.
“Sorry I have to run. But I know you have your term paper to work on, too. Too
bad I don’t have my books with me. We could do homework together.” Rob’s
surprised look must have confused Josh because he added, “That is, if you want
to.”

    
“Sure. Any time.”

    
“It’s hard to find quiet study time at my house.”

    
“I can imagine, with seven kids. Meg is more than I can handle sometimes.”

    
“She’s great. Your whole family’s great.”

    
“Are all of your brothers and sisters younger?”

    
“Yep. The closest one is in Meg’s class. I should’ve asked her if she knows
him. Mathias.”

    
“Six little brothers and sisters? I think I’d run away from home.”

    
“Don’t think I’m not tempted.” Josh stuck out his hand and Rob shook it.
“Thanks again.”

    
Rob watched Josh flip a U-turn on the driveway and pull out.

    
“You working or playing?” Rob asked as he walked into the sewing room upstairs.

Meg was in front of the computer. “Chatting,”
she answered.

    
“Good, ‘cause I need to work on my term paper.”

    
Her look said she’d move but not be happy about it. “Who’s Eddie Haskel?” she
asked.

    
“I don’t know. Why?”

    
“’Cause I heard Mom and Dad talking about how polite Josh is and Dad said,
‘Almost creepy polite, like Eddie Haskell.’ So I was wondering who he was.”

    
“Never heard of him.”

    
“I wonder if he’s as cute as Josh?” Rob gave her a look. “Next time he’s over,
you have to take a picture of me with him. Ash and Jess are never going to
believe I had Josh Schlagel’s sweat on me!”

    
“Do you know his brother Mathias?” Rob asked. She answered with a grimace.
“What’s wrong?”

    
“That’s a good question,” Meg frowned. “There’s something wrong with that boy.
Talk about creepy, and not in a good way. He scares me.”

    
“Josh’s brother? Why?”

    
“He’s scary to look at. Like he’d want to kill you, or bite the heads off
kittens. Makes you wonder which one of them is adopted.”

    
“Just like you and me,” Rob smiled.

    
She stood up, gave him a poke in the stomach and left him to Southeast Asia.

 

                  

 

                  
7

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