Baseball Great (13 page)

“DAD,” JADEN SAID. “HI.”

“Hi, Dr. Neidermeyer,” Josh said, his mind spinning fast and latching on to an idea. “We've got this science fair project coming up, and I asked Jaden to give me some help with it.”

“With my
PDR
?” her dad said.

“Uh, I know from my dad playing baseball for so long that they use a lot of anti-inflammatory pills in sports,” Josh said, sweat breaking out on his upper lip. “So I wanted to make a poster of the different kinds and I, uh, wanted to have pictures of the different pills, and Jaden said she could get me some ideas from that book.”

Her father studied him for a few seconds through his foggy, rain-spattered glasses before he said, “That's the right book then.”

Dr. Neidermeyer shed his raincoat and sneakers, then crossed the room and knelt down in front of the printer that was tucked under his desk, back to his own business.

“So, okay,” Josh said in a loud, robotic voice her father could hear, “thanks, Jaden. See you in school.”

“See you,” Jaden said, waving a limp hand and wearing a pained look on her face as if it hurt her to lie.

Josh left and climbed on his bike but didn't get past the first telephone pole before his phone buzzed. He fished the phone out of his pants pocket and flipped it open without stopping the bike.

“
THAT WAS 2 CLOSE
,” Jaden said in her text.

Josh nodded as if she could see him. He snapped the phone shut, buried it deep in his pants pocket to stay dry, gripped his handlebars, and raised his backside up off the bike seat, pedaling hard for home.

By the time Josh arrived, his father had finished the oil job in the garage and gotten cleaned up. He sat on the couch in the living room beside Josh's mom, watching a Yankees game.

“You're soaked,” his mom said, standing up and wringing her hands. “Get into the shower, Josh.”

“And you're late,” his father said, glancing at his watch but returning his attention to the TV immediately.

“Let me take your coat,” his mom said, stepping into the kitchen and reaching for his coat.

“No, that's okay,” Josh said, retreating into the little open closet area beside the door where their coats hung
on hooks in the wall. “I got it.”

Josh slipped the pill bottle out of the raincoat and into his pants pocket.

“What's that?” his mother asked.

Josh whirled around, his face hot. “Nothing.”

His fingers did a quick switch inside his pocket, and he took out the phone.

“Just my phone,” he said.

“Why's your face red?” his mom asked.

Josh wagged his head, looking down at his feet and kicking off the wet sneakers.

“It's a text message from Jaden,” he said. “That's all.”

“Jaden?” his mom said. “You two are texting each other now?”

“Mom. Stop.”

His mother turned away, raising her hands in the air. “I'm just asking. I think she's nice.”

“She is,” Josh said.

“You better go get a hot shower,” his mom said, complaining. “Riding your bike around in the rain.”

“I had to meet the guys,” Josh said. “I got my homework done in study hall.”

“Lights out at nine-thirty,” his mom said. “That's twenty minutes.”

“Can't I read?” Josh asked.

“Okay,” his mom said, returning to the couch in the other room. “Just until ten, and be quiet up there so you don't wake your sister.”

Josh kissed his parents and went upstairs to get ready for bed. As he returned his toothbrush to its place in the ceramic mug beside the sink, his cell phone buzzed and vibrated across the top of the toilet tank, sounding like a jackhammer. He snatched it up and popped it open, expecting a text but hearing Benji's voice instead.

“Hey,” Benji said. “You forget your main man?”

“What?” Josh said.

“You said you'd call me with the answer to problem thirty-two in the math,” Benji said. “Remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Josh said. “I forgot.”

“Dude, you need to eat some fish.”

“Fish?”

“Helps your brain,” Benji said. “My mom makes fish every Tuesday night. The whole house smells like a sewer, but we're one sharp bunch.”

“Then why do you need me for problem thirty-two?” Josh asked, whispering as he crossed the hall into his room, where he quietly closed the door.

“Stop flattering yourself,” Benji said. “You're genetically predisposed to math and I'm not.”

“Genetically predisposed?” Josh said, wrinkling his face and looking at the phone.

“See?” Benji said. “Science. Genetics. That's where I rule and you drool.”

“Cool,” Josh said, tucking the phone under his chin so he could talk while he changed into a clean
T-shirt and boxers.

“So, give me the goods,” Benji said.

Josh finished changing, then dug his math book out of his backpack and removed the homework sheet, reading off the steps to Benji.

“Super,” Benji said. “Hey, did you text Sheila? Girls like to get text messages, especially at night. I figured I should remind you since girls are like science to you.”

“Forget Sheila,” Josh said, putting away the math, grabbing his book, and sliding into bed.

“Dude, my hearing must be haywire. I know you didn't just say forget the goddess of Grant Middle.”

“Forget her,” Josh said. “I gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow.”

Before Benji could reply, Josh ended the call and opened his book. Before he started to read, he sent a text to Jaden that said “
ANYTHING YET
?”

A minute later, the phone buzzed and he opened it for the reply.

“
NO
.”

Josh sighed and found his place in the book, losing himself in it and forgetting for a time about Rocky and Tucker and steroids and girls. At ten his mom popped her head in and, yawning, told him to turn off the light. Josh stashed the phone underneath his pillow, checking it one final time before he closed his eyes.

He was just beginning to drift off when the phone buzzed under the pillow like a wet hornet.

“JADEN?” JOSH SAID, ANSWERING
the phone and seeing that it wasn't a text.

“Josh,” she said in a whisper, “I didn't want to send a text. It
is
steroids. Anadrol-17—an anabolic steroid. My God, this is insane.”

Josh's heart raced inside his chest. He bolted up out of bed and bumped his head on the slope of the ceiling.

“Ow!”

“Are you okay?”

“Hit my head,” he said, rubbing it and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I'm fine.”

In the glow from the cell phone, he could see the dull glimmer of the Titans trophy on his dresser. His stomach tightened.

“What are we going to do?” Jaden asked, hissing.

“Nothing,” Josh said. “Not now.”

“We have to tell.”

“No,” Josh said. “Not that. We have to figure a way to stop him from doing it, but we can't tell. I told you that.”

“And I told you I wasn't going to stop trying to convince you,” she said. “My dad's coming! I'll see you tomorrow.”

The phone went dead. Josh stared at the numbers to convince himself that it hadn't been a dream. Finally he closed the phone and stashed it back under his pillow.

The night ran long, with sleep eluding him like an inside curveball. When he finally did nod off, his dreams were plagued with angry wasps, dark, empty locker rooms, and dugouts filled with pill-popping baseball players whose faces looked like monster fish. The hallway was still dark when Josh slipped across it and into the bathroom to get ready for school.

He huddled with Jaden on the bus, the two of them arguing in whispers back and forth, listening to each other's ideas and coming up with no real plan. During classes, Josh had a hard time listening, and he forgot all about Sheila until she sat down next to him at lunch.

Jaden hadn't arrived yet. Benji sat across the table from them, already munching on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and washing it down with a carton of
milk.

“Oh, I'm sorry, that seat is saved,” Josh said.

Sheila looked at him, smiling uncertainly and waiting for the punch line to the joke.

“For Jaden,” Josh said, quiet but firm.

Sheila's pretty face turned nasty. She stood fast, and her chair screeched across the floor.

“You think I'm putting up with this?” she asked. “You think I need you?”

“No,” Josh said.

“I
don't
,” she said.

“Okay,” Josh said softly.

“Ha!” Benji cried out through a glob of half-chewed PBJ. “Girl, goddess or not…”

Benji wiggled his neck so that his head bopped back and forth like a cobra. “You just got
served
!”

Sheila clamped her lips tight, and her face turned red enough to explode.

“You toad!” she said. She snatched up Benji's milk and dumped it on his head. Then she spun and walked away while the kids around them burst out in a mixture of cheers and jeers.

Benji blinked his eyes and sputtered and wiped them clear with his hands. Milk soaked his hair and discolored the Red Sox T-shirt he wore with a slow-growing dark stain.

“Man,” Benji said, looking down at his shirt, “what
is it with girls and dumping food on me?”

Jaden walked up, trying not to giggle, and said, “Because you look so hungry?”

“Funny,” Benji said, wiping his face with his hands.

Benji sat looking at them as if someone hadn't just dumped milk all over him. The cafeteria returned to normal, with the drone of everyone talking at the same time adding a buzz to the air. Josh stood and pushed Jaden's chair in for her as she sat down.

Benji stuffed another bite of sandwich into his mouth and said, “Dude, you are so lame. Helping her with her chair? You're like my grandfather.”

“There's nothing wrong with nice manners,” Jaden said.

Benji rolled his eyes.

“Did you tell him?” Jaden asked.

“Tell me what?” Benji said, leaning across the table.

“Are you crazy?” Josh said to Jaden.

“CRAZY?” BENJI SAID, OUTRAGED.
“You're the crazy one. Dude, that is so wrong. I'm your best friend. You don't have secrets from your best friend.”

“You weren't my best friend after I left for the Titans,” Josh said, taking out a turkey sandwich and biting into it.

“What?” Benji said, widening his eyes.

“The day you dug my oatmeal cookies out of the trash?” Josh said, chewing with his mouth half full.

Benji swatted his hand at the air. “Dude, I was teaching you to respect the friendship, let you know how good of friends we really are. Now, what's she talking about that you didn't tell me?”

Josh scowled at Jaden. She shrugged apologetically. Josh took a drink of milk, then sighed.

“All right,” he said, leaning close and whispering. “Rocky's dealing steroids.”

“Are you kidding me?” Benji said in a voice loud enough to draw stares.

Josh rolled his eyes, shot Jaden an angry look, and said, “See?”

“Sorry. Sorry,” Benji said. “I'm quiet. I'm all quiet now. They don't call me Johnny Tight-lips for nothing.”

“Who calls you Johnny Tight-lips?” Josh asked, wrinkling his face.

“No matter,” Benji said, holding his hand up like a traffic cop. “Tell me the deal. Are we calling the cops?”

“No!” Josh said, grabbing a handful of Benji's soaked T-shirt, pulling him even closer, and whispering. “We are
not
calling the police or anyone else.”

Josh looked over at Jaden and asked, “Did you put him up to this?”

Jaden shook her head and said, “Not me. I didn't say anything.”

“Dude,” Benji said, removing Josh's hand from his shirt, “the merchandise, go easy.”

“I want to stop him, and we will if we can, but we
can't
call the police,” Josh said.

“Josh doesn't want his dad to lose his job,” Jaden said.

“
He's
dealing, too?” Benji said.

“No!”
Josh said. “My dad's not dealing. He's got nothing to do with this.”

Josh explained the whole situation while trying to
eat, not because he was all that hungry, but because he knew he'd need his energy for practice.

When Josh finished, Benji said, “First, you need a sting. You get the goods on him, then you call him and tell him you'll bust him if he doesn't stop. The dude will quit selling the juice before you get off the phone if you sting him.”

“Sting?” Josh said.

“Like cops,” Benji said, “when they go after someone. They set them up in a
sting
. They offer to buy drugs and put the whole thing on video from one of these cameras you can stick in a little nail hole in the wall. I saw it on
America's Most Wanted
.”

“Well, we can't ask him to buy drugs,” Josh said. “He's not selling these things on the street. He's just giving them to his team. And we don't have a camera you can stick in a nail hole.”

“What's in all this for him?” Benji asked. “Why would he do this?”

“Money. My dad says Rocky has a sponsor package from Nike that might happen that's worth hundreds of thousands of dollars,” Josh said, “but they only do it for the top teams in the country. So if the team is great, he makes some pretty big money.”

“What if we get him doing the buying?” Jaden asked.

Josh stared at her.

“At the hospital,” Jaden said, and she told Benji how they'd seen Rocky's car outside the loading dock.

“So, we need a stakeout,” Benji said, wadding up his
sandwich wrapper and stuffing it into his lunch bag. “And we take a picture of the deal going down with a cell phone.”

“My cell phone doesn't have a camera,” Josh said.

“Mine does,” Jaden said.

“Mine, too,” Benji said. “Dude, you gotta get into the twenty-first century.”

Josh shrugged.

“Anyway,” Benji said, “we stake out the loading dock, wait for Rocky to come get the drop, take a picture of the exchange, and run like H-E-double hockey sticks.”

“Then we call him anonymously,” Jaden said, “and tell him if he keeps doing it, we'll send the picture to the
New York Times
.”

“What about the Syracuse paper?” Josh asked.

“Think big, dude,” Benji said. “That's how you get the really big bad guys. You gotta think big.”

“When do we start?” Josh asked.

“Tonight,” Jaden said. “Why wait?”

“I got my fantasy baseball draft tonight,” Benji said, “so I'm out.”

“We'll take turns,” Jaden said. “I'll go first. Can you do tomorrow night? Tomorrow I've got to finish the paper and print it, so I'll be at school until late.”

“I got you tomorrow,” Benji said.

“I'll help,” Josh said. “I mean, I'll go with you both.”

They finished their lunch and kept discussing the plan. When the bell rang, Jaden gave Josh a pat on the back and said, “I'll see you tonight.”