On Wings of the Morning by Dan Verner Read Free Book Online

showers.”
    As Otto trotted toward the school, the coach held out an arm to stop him. “Hold on there, Kerchner. Where’d you learn to play ball like that?”
    “I never played before this, Coach.”
    Gregory was coach of the Pioneer Lake Superiors, the school’s baseball team. “I want you to come for tryouts next week.”
    “Gee, Coach, I don’t know it I have the time. I work at the airport and have my chores to do on the farm.”
    “Well, talk to your boss and I’ll talk to your father when I see him in town. Now get going!”
    “Yessir,” said Otto and took off for the school. He had never imagined himself a baseball player, but it might be fun.
    After his shower, he had math class. Betty sat in front of him. “Hi, Betty,” he whispered to her as the teacher droned on in front of the class.
    “Hi, Otto,” she returned without moving her lips. “How are you?”
    “I’m good. Coach Gregory asked me to try out for the team.”
    “That’s great! Are you going to do it?”
    “I might.”
    “I’ll come see you play.”
    Just then the teacher spoke, “Miss Ross, what is the answer to number 7?”
    Betty looked down at her homework. “The answer to number 7 is 42, Miss Cannon.”
    “That is correct. Thank you. Mr. Kerchner, do you have the answer to number 8?
    “Yes, ma’am, I have 107 for number 8.”
    “Very good, Mr. Kerchner.” Her voice faded off into a distant buzz as she continued around the room, asking for answers to the previous night’s homework. Otto was soon lost in thought.
    He saw himself standing in the batter’s box at the country championships. The bases were loaded, there were two outs in the bottom of the ninth, and the Superiors trailed by three runs. The pitcher was a tall kid from Madison who had a wicked fast ball.
    Otto was not a power hitter. He hit hard line drives that tended to fall in front of outfielders and had good speed on the bases, so his average hovered somewhere around .420. Coach batted him third.
    He stood in against the pitcher, who unleashed a fastball that tailed off at the last second. Otto swung and missed. This guy had the best arm the Superiors had seen. Otto tapped the plate with his bat and awaited the next pitch. The kid from Madison wound up and delivered, this time a curve that broke over the plate. Otto swung high. Oh and two. One more strike and they would have a long bus ride back to Pioneer Lake. The crowd had to be making noise, but Otto felt like they were behind a glass wall.
    The pitcher wound up and grooved a fast ball right down the middle of the plate. Otto was ready for him and brought the bat around in a smooth level swing. Crack! He could tell he had gotten all of this one. He watched the ball soar high above the field, high above the outfielders. It kept going, clearing not only the fence but the grandstands beyond. Home run! They had won the state championship! Otto trotted the bases, stepping emphatically on home plate. His teammates mobbed him, beating him on the head and shoulders. He smiled.
    He felt a light tap on his shoulder. “Otto? Otto? Are you all right?”
    It was Betty, standing there with a concerned look on her face. He looked around to see an empty classroom. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking.”
    “You’d better get to geography. See you after school?”
    “You betcha, Betty. See you!”
    He watched her walk away, meeting up with a girl from her sixth period class. Otto shook his head and quickly made his way to his next class.
    ***
    The next week at tryouts, Coach Gregory stood at home plate with his bat. “Here it comes, Jones!” A boy Otto did not know crouched in his ready position at short. Otto was next in line at the tryouts.
    Coach’s bat came around, and the ball hissed along the grass. Jones ran awkwardly toward the ball, sticking his glove to one side. The ball skidded beneath his glove into the outfield. Gregory shook his head.
    “Get in front of the ball, Jones!” he yelled. “All