Kristy and the Walking Disaster (5 page)

The game began. Linny Papadakis was the pitcher.

He pitched to Claire, who missed the ball by a mile.

He pitched to Jamie Newton, who, at the last moment, dropped the bat, covered his head, and ducked.

I winced, then hoped that none of the kids had seen me.

Off in right field, I caught sight of Laurel Kuhn making a dandelion chain. "Hey, Laurel!" I yelled. "Watch the game, okay?"

Laurel nodded, but over in left field, Hannie Papadakis was looking for four-leaf clovers.

"Hannie! Heads up!"

"Left field is boring!" she replied.

Linny pitched the wiffle ball to Gabble Perkins, who made the first hit of the game. She even ran for first base, but halfway there she got a case of the giggles, which slowed her down. The first basewoman caught the ball before Gabble reached her.

Jackie was up at bat next. He got in the next hit of the game - right into the woods behind the school.

"Foul ball!" I cried.

Eight children went looking for the softball. They couldn't find it, and no one wanted to play with the wiffle ball.

"Game over," I announced.

"Thanks to Jackie," someone muttered.

But all I said was, "You guys were great! Keep up the good work. I'll see you on Tuesday."

" 'Bye, Coach!" called Linny Papadakis.

Coach? . . . Coach! I liked the sound of that.

I couldn't wait to tell Watson about our first practice. No one had cried or gotten hurt. The kids had been excited. They'd had fun. They'd come up with a team name. As far as I could tell, the practice had been a success.

Chapter 7.

Sometimes I think the Pikes are the best thing that ever happened to Matt Braddock and his nine-year-old sister Haley. When they moved to the Pikes' neighborhood, Haley thought it would be the end of the world. She thought that because Matt's deaf, kids would think he was weird - and if they thought he was weird, they would think she was weird, and that neither one would ever make new friends.

Luckily Haley was wrong, thanks to Jessi and Mallory. Jessi started bringing the Braddock kids over to Mallory's house, and Mallory and Jessi told the Pike kids that Matt knew a secret language. What a mystery! They all wanted to learn it, too. Now they can talk to Matt pretty well. If there's trouble, Haley helps out, since she can sign almost as well as she can speak. Plus, Haley has gotten to be friends with Vanessa, and Matt is friends with the Pike boys.

Anyway, on the day that Claud and Mallory were sitting for the seven other Pike kids, Jessi brought Matt and Haley over as usual. Claud and Mal were in the backyard with the Pike kids. It was a sunny day, and everyone felt like being outdoors. Margo was jumping rope on the patio, Vanessa was teaching Claire to play jacks, the triplets were trying to do

acrobatics in the grass, and Nicky was examining a scab on his elbow.

"That drives me crazy," said Mal, watching the triplets. "They're going to break their backs or something. 1 just know it."

"Oh, they are not," said Claud. "How many times have you tried stuff like that?"

"Just once," replied Mal, "and I sprained my wrist."

"Oh."

Claudia was saved by a shout of, "Hi!"

Vanessa had spotted Jessi, Haley, and Matt. She left the jacks game and ran to them, waving to Matt. Waving is the sign for "Hi!" (Easy, huh?) Matt waved back, then joined the triplets. The triplets stopped fooling around (to Mallory's relief).

"Want to play ball?" they asked Matt with their hands.

Matt nodded vigorously.

"Can we play, too?" asked Claire. "Nicky and Margo and me? We're on a ball team now, you know. We're Kristy's Krushers, just like Matt."

Mallory could tell that her brothers wanted to snicker - obviously, they didn't think much of the Krushers - but they didn't want to hurt Matt's feelings.

"Hey!" Adam cried suddenly. "How about

Little Leaguers versus the Krushers? That would be an, um, interesting game."

"Oh, but it wouldn't be fair," spoke up Nicky. "There are only three of you guys . . . and four of us Krushers."

"Believe me, that'll be plenty fair," said Jordan snidely.

By that time, Matt was looking angry, as he often does when he's left out of a conversation. (It must be awfully frustrating.) Haley rushed over and signed to him. When Matt understood what was being planned, his face lit up. He signed furiously to his sister.

Haley burst out laughing. "Matt says the Krushers can beat the pants off you Little Leaguers!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Adam, leaning toward Matt menacingly.

No one needed to translate that, and Mart's response was to draw his finger across his throat, clearly meaning, "You die!" But he was smiling and so was Adam.

"Are we on?" said Byron.

Claire, Margo, Nicky, and Matt were facing the triplets. Their answer? Yes! And Claire added, "And we'll beat you, all right!"

"Oh, sure," said Jordan. "You know what Claire's batting average is? Zero. She has never hit a ball."

"But I've caught a lot of them," she pointed out.

Adam and Byron headed into the Pikes' garage and returned with some mitts, bats, and softballs.

"Because we're so nice," said Byron, "we'll let you Krushers be up at bat first." And he signed to Matt, "Your team first."

Matt nodded, looking as if he thought the triplets were making a big mistake.

The triplets held a conference to choose positions, while Nicky signed that Matt should be the first batter up. Matt nodded, all business.

Jordan was the pitcher. Adam and Byron were combination outfielders and basemen. Jordan stared at Matt. He shuffled his feet around and adjusted the brim of his cap, trying to look professional. Then - zoom! He threw a fastball.

Matt was ready. His eyes on the ball, he swung and connected. The ball sailed over Jordan's head.

"I've got it! I've got it!" shouted Adam. And he did have it - but not on the fly. He didn't get it to third base until just after Matt had slid in.

"Yea!" cheered Vanessa and Haley from the sidelines.

"All right!" shouted Nicky. "See what us Krushers can do?"

Matt grinned and waved his fist over his head in a silent cheer.

"I see what Matt can do," said Jordan, getting set to pitch. "Now I want to see what you can do, little bro."

What Nicky could do was strike out. He handed the bat to Margo. Mar go took it, positioned herself in the batter's box and kept her eyes on Jordan. She concentrated so hard that she didn't even blink when Adam called out, "Hey Margo, you're gonna strike out!"

Or when Nicky retorted, "You guys must be pretty worried if you have to try to scare us."

Claud and Mal looked at Jessi and smiled.

The triplets shut up. And Margo kept her batting stance.

Jordan pitched.

Margo fouled the ball.

Jordan pitched again. Then seven more times.

Finally Jordan shrugged. Enough was enough. He let Margo walk to first base.

Claire's turn.

"It's the strike-out queen!" shouted Byron. But the Krushers didn't react, and Byron shut up.

"Come on, Claire," Nicky said seriously to

his sister. "One out. Runners at first and third. I know you've never hit the ball, but if you hit it now you could send Matt home."

Claire nodded.

"Good. I know you can do it," said Nicky.

On the sidelines, the baby-sitters smiled at each other again. Nicky was rarely so nice to his sisters. Usually he teased them with rude songs or played tricks on them or tried to gross them out.

"The Krushers stick together," Claudia commented.

And then Claire struck out.

"Whoa. Two outs. Tantrum time," muttered Mallory.

But nothing happened.

Nicky was up again. He swung and missed. Then he slammed the ball deep into left field. Matt ran home. Margo ran home. And Nicky reached second base before he realized he better not go any further.

The Krushers looked at each other proudly. Claudia told me later that the triplets seemed sort of awed. (And maybe just the teeniest bit proud.) To the Krushers' credit, they didn't gloat. I wish I'd been there. I would have been proud of them, too.

I would have been proud right up until what happened next.

Matt struck out, the triplets ran off the field - and Claire threw a tantrum. I'd never seen Claire throw a tantrum. I didn't even know she threw tantrums until Mallory mentioned it over the phone. But sure enough, as soon as her team had three outs, Claire clenched her fists, screwed up her face, and began screeching, "No fair! No fair! No fair!" until, according to Claudia, who got the job of calming her down, it sounded more like she was saying, "Nofe-air! Nofe-air! Nofe-air!"

"She only throws baseball tantrums," Mallory informed me later. "She does it with ball games on TV, too."

However, Claire got over her tantrum and Matt pitched to the triplets. They scored four runs in the first inning. In the second inning the Krushers scored zero runs and the triplets scored three more. By the end of the fifth inning, when Mrs. Pike came home, the triplets were ahead, sixteen to five.

But, with the exception of Claire's tantrum, the Krushers never once lost their patience or their courage. They did lose their concentration a few times, but what can you expect from 5.8-year-old kids?

When the game was over, Jordan actually said to Nicky and his sisters, "Good game,

you guys." Then he remembered to sign for Matt. Matt grinned.

Haley, who had watched the entire game with Claudia, Mallory, Jessi, and Vanessa, just said, "Whew. That was amazing. There was no way they could beat the triplets - but they never gave up."

"Never," agreed the others.

When Mal and Claudia told me about the game later, I felt terrific. My team, my Krushers, had real spirit.

Chapter 8.

"Claire, can you please get out of that tree? And Karen, stop teasing your broth - Jamie, what are you doing? Leave that bat alone. You're supposed to hit balls with it, not walk on it."

"I'm a tightrope walker, Coach." Jamie replied, but he stepped off the bat.

It was the beginning of another practice with the Krushers. I seemed to be having a little trouble getting everyone organized. Claudia was there, and she was supposed to be helping me, but she'd found some candy in the pocket of her jeans and was concentrating on unwrapping it. You could tell that the candy was much more interesting to her than softball.

I clapped my hands. Suddenly I felt like Mr. Redmont, my old teacher from seventh grade. He was always clapping his hands to get kids' attention.

"Hey, you guys!" I called. "Would you come

here, please. . . . PLEASE? . . . Claudia. I need help."

What was wrong with everybody? I thought these kids wanted to play ball so badly.

Claudia popped a piece of candy into her mouth and wandered over to me. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

I could have been sarcastic, but I kept my temper. After all, the kids were nearby. I didn't want them to think I was an ogre.

"Just help me get them together. We need some practice time first."

"Come on, guys!" I called again. "Where's your Krushers spirit?"

Right away, the kids ran to me - except for Claire. She was stuck in the tree. Claudia had to lift her down.

Boy, all I had to say was "Krushers" and the kids jumped to attention.

I began assigning tasks. "Jamie," I said, "I know you're a little afraid of the ball. Can you throw it, though?"

He nodded.

"Great. I want you to pitch to Claire for awhile. She needs practice hitting the ball." And, I thought, if she actually did hit it, Jamie might try to catch it. (Either that, or he would duck it.)

"Okay," said Claire and Jamie.

"David Michael and Nicky, I want you to work on your pitching. You guys just toss the ball to each other, okay?"

"Yup," they replied.

This time I was prepared with more equipment. I'd asked the kids to bring along some of their own stuff so they would have enough to practice with.

Our afternoon got underway. I'd assigned each Krusher something to work on, and I walked around and gave the kids pointers.

"Hannie, run toward the ball," I shouted. "Don't wait for it to come to you. You have to go after it. ... Claire, keep your eye on that ball. . . ."

I almost shouted Matt's instructions to him, too, before I remembered that he wouldn't hear me. I signed to him instead, and he looked confused. I'd probably just told him to go price an elephant or something. I wished Haley or Mrs. Braddock or Jessi were there to help.

Claudia looked bored. She sat down in the grass and ate another piece of candy. Then she examined her fingernails.

"Time for a manicure?" I asked her.

Claud jumped. "Oh, sorry," she said.

"Listen, could you toss the ball to Jamie for awhile?" I asked her. "You're good with him," (it never hurts to flatter people), "and I'll work

with Claire. They're not getting much accomplished together."

Claire was singing "I'm a Little Teapot" to Jamie, and every time she got to the part about "tip me over and pour me out" she released the softball from her underarm, which Jamie thought was hysterical.

I let practice go on for about ten more minutes. Then I called, "Game time!"

What a reaction! The kids jammed themselves around me. I had them count off in twos again, and as soon as the sides were organized, we got a game going. Right away, the kids were all business. Karen was the catcher for her side. She crouched behind home plate, wearing her mask and slamming one hand into her glove. "Attaboy! Attaboy!" she kept shouting, no matter what was going on.

I let David Michael pitch. First up at bat was Matt Braddock. He swung the bat and fouled. David Michael, who barely knows any sign language, signed something that looked like "monkey." Then he remembered a softball sign, but it was the one for "safe." It took ages to get everything sorted out.

When the first half of the inning was over, which was pretty soon (since after Matt was up, the next three hitters each struck out), I let our walking disaster go to bat first. He hit

the ball and ran to second! While Linny Papadakis was at bat, Jackie stole third base. Then Myriah Perkins got in a single, Jackie ran for home, tripped over his feet, and was tagged out, just inches from the base.