King of the Mound: My Summer With Satchel Paige by Wes Tooke Read Free Book Online Page B

best arm in the Bismarck outfield, could throw a ball from bank to bank. Just south of town, where the dark water slowed, a giant sandbar had formed, and kids would splash around in theshallows during the warm summer months. Sometimes they would even play stickball in the sand using a worn rubber ball and bare hands.
    But Emma led Nick in the opposite direction, into the dusty plain that stretched northwest of the town. They passed two abandoned farmhouses, their windows boarded up and roofs sagging, and then turned off the road and cut through a field filled with burned-out cornstalks. Emma scrambled over a small wall, pausing at the top to give Nick a hand, and when they plopped down on the other side, they were suddenly in a green field—an island of life amid the dust and dirt. Nick paused and poked a small squash with the toe of his shoe.
    “Why is this stuff growing?” he asked. “I thought there was a drought.”
    “That’s how I found the swimming hole,” Emma said. “But it’s supersecret, so you can’t tell anyone. Promise?”
    Nick shrugged. “I don’t know anyone to tell. Except Satch and my dad. And I don’t think they care.”
    Emma laughed, probably because she thought it was a joke. But it wasn’t. Before Nick got sick, he had taken for granted that every day when he got out of school there would be a dozen kids waiting for him to play baseball or go swimming or walk down to the five-and-dime store to look at bikes, but now . . .
    “Over here,” Emma said loudly.
    She had walked ahead of him and was cutting into a little stand of trees. As Nick followed her into the shade, the air became cool and moist, and he took what felt like his first deep breath in a very long time. Emma skirted the trunk ofa giant tree, and suddenly a small pool of water appeared ahead of them. It was about half the size of a baseball infield, and its edges were covered with lily pads and a few thick stands of reeds.
    “This is my favorite spot in the whole world,” Emma said. She turned and pointed at the giant tree. “And look!”
    Nick turned and saw a thick rope hanging down from one of the branches. The end was just a few feet off the ground, two thick knots standing out like mice swallowed by a snake, and he realized that it was a swing.
    “Isn’t it great?” Emma asked.
    “Yeah.” Nick glanced back at the little pond. The water appeared inky in the shade. “Who else knows about it?”
    “The farmer, I guess.”
    “No other kids?”
    “Nope.” Emma pointed at the far side of the pond. “There’s a path that leads to a house, but I’ve never seen footprints on this side of the water.”
    “It’s amazing,” Nick said. “Like an oasis or something.”
    Emma just smiled and then sat on a rock and pulled off her shoes. Nick went down to the shore, pushed aside a lily pad, and dipped his fingers in the water. It was cool but not cold. A few fat frogs watched him from farther down the bank, their eyes wide and unblinking.
    “Last one in is a rotten egg!” Emma called.
    Nick glanced up just in time to see her go swinging past him on the rope. She whizzed out high above the pond and then let go with a yelp and plummeted into the dark water. The splash almost reached the shore, and Nick stood up to get a better look. She was underwater for a few seconds,and then her head popped out, her long dark hair plastered against her white cheeks.
    “Come on,” she said. “Don’t be a chicken.”
    Nick took off his shoes and then waded a few feet out into the water to retrieve the end of the rope, which was still swinging slightly from Emma’s plunge. He slowly walked the rope back up next to the tree and then stood motionless, gathering his courage. Emma had clutched the rope with her hands and feet, but Nick didn’t trust his bad leg to help him.
    “Now or never!” Emma called.
    Nick stared at the pond. “I’m worried about my brace.”
    “It’ll dry.” She paused. “Baaawwwk!”
    Nick gave the pond