按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
I shook my head no； without looking at him。
〃I'll buy you a Coca…Cola；〃 he said。
〃No thanks；〃 I said； still staring at the floor。
Eli Chandler wouldn't beg for mercy in front of a firing squad； and he wasn't about to plead with a seven…year…old。 The door closed； and seconds later the truck engine started。
Wary of the front yard； I headed for the back。 Near the silo； where the Spruills were supposed to be camping； there was a grassy area where baseball could be played。 It wasn't as long and wide as my field in the front； but it was open enough and ran to the edge of the cotton。 I tossed pop flies as high as I could； and I stopped only after I'd caught ten in a row。
Miguel appeared from nowhere。 He watched me for a minute； and under the pressure of an audience； I dropped three in a row。 I tossed him the ball； gently； because he had no glove。 He caught it effortlessly and snapped it back to me。 I bobbled it； dropped it； kicked it； then grabbed it and threw it back to him； this time a little harder。
I had learned the previous year that a lot of Mexicans played baseball； and it was obvious that Miguel knew the game。 His hands were quick and soft； his throws sharper than mine。 We tossed the ball for a few minutes； then Rico and Pepe and Luis joined us。
〃You have a bat？〃 Miguel asked。
〃Sure；〃 I said； and ran to the house to get it。
When I returned； Roberto and Pablo had joined the others； and the group was flinging my baseball in all directions。 〃You bat；〃 Miguel said； and he took charge。 He put a piece of an old plank on the ground； ten feet in front of the silo； and said； 〃Home plate。〃 The others scattered throughout the infield。 Pablo； in shallow center； was at the edge of the cotton。 Rico squatted behind me； and I took my position on the right side of the plate。 Miguel performed a fierce windup； scared me for a second； then tossed a soft one that I swung at mightily but missed。
I also missed the next three； then ripped a couple。 The Mexicans cheered and laughed when I made contact； but said nothing when I didn't。 After a few minutes of batting practice； I gave the bat to Miguel and we swapped places。 I started him with fastballs； and he didn't appear to be intimidated。 He hit line drives and hot grounders； some of which were fielded cleanly by the Mexicans； while others were simply retrieved。 Most of them had played before； but a couple had never even thrown a baseball。
The other four at the barn heard the motion and they wandered over。 Cowboy was shirtless； and his pants were rolled up to his knees。 He seemed to be a foot taller than the rest。
Luis hit next。 He wasn't as experienced as Miguel； and I had no trouble fooling him with my change…up。 Much to my delight； I noticed Tally and Trot sitting under an elm； watching the fun。
Then my father strolled over。
The longer we played； the more animated the Mexicans became。 They hollered and laughed at one another's miscues。 God only knew what they were saying about my pitching。
〃Let's play a game；〃 my father said。 Bo and Dale had arrived； also shirtless and shoeless。 Miguel was consulted； and after a few minutes of plotting； it was decided that the Mexicans would play the Arkansans。 Rico would catch for both teams； and again I was sent to the house； this time to fetch my father's old catcher's mitt and my other ball。
When I returned the second time； Hank had appeared and was ready to play。 I was not happy about being on the same team with him； but I certainly couldn't say anything。 Nor was I certain where Trot would fit in。 And Tally was a girl。 What a disgrace： a girl for a teammate。 Still； the Mexicans had us outnumbered。
Another round of plotting； and it was somehow determined that we would bat first。 〃You have little guys；〃 Miguel said with a smile。 More planks were laid around as bases。 My father and Miguel established the ground rules； which were quite creative for such a misshapen field。 The Mexicans scattered around the bases； and we were ready to play。
To my surprise； Cowboy walked out to the mound and began warming up。 He was lean but strong； and when he threw the ball； the muscles in his chest and shoulders bulged and creased。 The sweat made his dark skin shine。 〃He's good；〃 my father said softly。 His windup was smooth； his delivery seamless； his release almost nonchalant； but the baseball shot from his fingers and popped into Rico's mitt。 He threw harder and harder。 〃He's very good；〃 my father said； shaking his head。 〃That boy's played a lot of baseball。〃
〃Girls first；〃 somebody said。 Tally picked up the bat and walked to the plate。 She was shoeless； and wearing tight pants rolled up to her knees and a loose shirt with its tail tied in a knot。 You could see her stomach。 At first； she didn't look at Cowboy； but he was certainly staring at her。 He moved a few feet toward the plate and tossed the first pitch underhanded。 She swung and missed； but it was an impressive swing； at least for a girl。
Then their eyes met briefly。 Cowboy was rubbing the baseball； Tally was swinging the bat； nine Mexicans were chattering like locusts。
The second pitch was even slower； and Tally made contact。 The ball rolled by Pepe at third； and we had our first base runner。 〃Bat； Luke；〃 my father said。 I strolled to the plate with all the confidence of Stan Musial； hoping that Cowboy wouldn't throw the hard stuff at me。 He let Tally hit one； surely he'd do the same for me。 I stood in the box； listening as thousands of rabid Cardinal fans chanted my name。 A packed house； Harry Caray yelling into the microphone…then I looked at Cowboy thirty feet away； and my heart stopped。 He wasn't smiling； nothing close。 He held the baseball with both hands and looked at me as if he could saw my head off with a fastball。
What would Musial do？ Swing the damned bat！
The first pitch was also underhanded； so I started breathing again。 It was high； and I didn't swing； and the Mexican chorus had a lot to say about that。 The second pitch was down the middle； and I swung for the fence； for the left field wall； 350 feet away。 I closed my eyes and swung for the thirty thousand lucky souls in Sportsman's Park。 I also swung for Tally。
〃Strike one！〃 my father yelled； a little too loud； I thought。 〃You're tryin' to kill it； Luke；〃 he said。
Of course I was。 I tried to kill the third pitch； too； and when Rico threw it back； I was faced with the horror of being down two strikes。 A strikeout was unthinkable。 Tally had just hit the ball nicely。 She was on first base； anxious for me to put the ball in play so she could advance。 We were playing on my field； with my ball and bat。 All of those people were watching。
I stepped away from the plate and was stricken with the terror of striking out。 The bat was suddenly heavier。 My heart was pounding； my mouth was dry。 I looked at my father for help； and he said； 〃Let's go； Luke。 Hit the ball。〃 I looked at Cowboy； and his nasty smile was even nastier。 I did not know if I was ready for what he was going to throw。
I stutter…stepped back to the plate； gritted my teeth； and tried to think of Musial； but my only thoughts were of defeat； and I swung at a very slow pitch。 When I missed for the third time； there was total silence。 I dropped the bat； picked it up； and heard nothing as I walked back to my team； my lip quivering； already daring myself not to cry。 I couldn't look at Tally； and I sure couldn't look at my father。
I wanted to run into the house and lock the doors。
Trot was next； and he held the bat with his right hand just under the label。 His left arm hung limp； as always； and we were a little embarrassed at the sight of this poor kid trying to swing。 But he was smiling and happy to be playing； and that was more important than anything else at the moment。 He hacked at the first two； and I began to think the Mexicans would beat us by twenty runs。 Somehow； though； he hit the third pitch； a gentle looping fly that landed behind second base； where at least four Mexicans managed to miss it。 Tally flew around second and made it to third； while Trot shuffled down to first。
My humiliation； already enormous； grew even greater。 Trot on first； Tally on third； only one out。
Bo was next； and because he was a large teenager with no visible handicaps； Cowboy stepped back and threw from a full windup。 His first pitch was not too fast； but poor Bo was already shaking by the time the ball crossed home plate。 He swung after Rico caught it； and Hank roared with laughter。 Bo told him to shut up； Hank made some response； and I thought we might have a Spruill family brawl in the top of the first inning。
The second pitch was a little faster。 Bo's swing was a little slower。 〃Make him throw it underhand！〃 Bo yelled at us； trying to laugh it off。
〃What a sissy；〃 Hank said。 Mr。 and Mrs。 Spruill had joined the spectators； and Bo glanced at them。
I expected the third pitch to be even faster； so did Bo。 Cowboy instead threw a change…up； and Bo swung long before the ball arrived。
〃He's mighty good；〃 my father said of Cowboy。
〃I'm hittin' next；〃 Hank announced； stepping in front of Dale； who didn't argue。 〃I'll show you boys how it's done。〃
The bat looked like a toothpick as Hank hacked