Satch & Me by Dan Gutman Read Free Book Online Page A

“To go.”
    Everybody in the diner was staring at Flip.
    Laverne’s father looked at him. “What are you, a wise guy?” he asked.
    â€œNo, I’m a hungry guy,” Flip said, “and I’d like twenty burgers. Are you refusing to serve me?”
    Laverne’s father looked disgusted. He went back to the kitchen and told somebody to put twenty burgers on the grill.
    Flip and I sat down again. People were looking at us and whispering. Soon our chicken was done and Laverne came over with the platters. Outside, the engine of the bus started up again.
    â€œStosh!” Flip said. “Quick, go tell the driver to hold that bus a minute!”
    I ran outside. The bus was starting to pull away. I banged on the door. The driver hit the brakes. The door opened.
    â€œWait!” I yelled.
    Flip was jogging out of the diner with the two platters of chicken and the paper bag lunches my mom had packed for us. He climbed up the steps of the bus. I followed. All the guys on the bus were wearing baseball uniforms that said “Grays” across the front.
    â€œGentlemen,” Flip said. “Anybody want some roast chicken and cornbread? Believe me, this stuff is so good, you’ll feel like you died and went to heaven. And if you can wait a few minutes, I ordered those burgers you wanted.”
    For a moment, the ballplayers on the bus juststared at Flip, like they didn’t trust him. But I guess their hunger overwhelmed any suspicions they had, because they all started grabbing the food and shouting. “Yeah! I want some! Gimme a drumstick! What’s in the bag? I’ll take a hunk of that cornbread….” They dove into the food like they hadn’t had a good meal in a long time.
    The kid who had come into the diner was sitting in the seat right behind the driver. His eyes were moist with tears.
    â€œWhat’s your name, son?” Flip asked, giving him one of my mom’s sandwiches.
    â€œJoshua,” the kid said. “Josh Gibson.”
    I thought Flip was going to fall over. He staggered back a step and his eyes bugged out. He looked like he was about to pass out.
    â€œJosh Gibson…the ballplayer?” he asked.
    At that, a huge man stepped forward and stuck out his hand for Flip to shake.
    â€œI’m Josh Gibson, the ballplayer,” he said. “This is my son, Josh Junior.”
    The guy was like a mountain. He was about as tall as Flip, but his chest, arms, and legs were enormous. There may have been a little bit of a belly there, but mostly he was solid muscle.
    â€œI want to thank you, mister,” he said simply.
    â€œStosh!” Flip said, pumping the guy’s hand, “This is the great Josh Gibson. The Bronzed Bambino. Prob’bly the greatest hitter in baseball history. Hey Josh, is it true you hit 84 homersin 1936? Is it true you batted .600 one year? I heard you hit line drives that tear the gloves off infielders.”
    â€œIt’s true,” Gibson sighed. “All of it.”
    The greatest hitter in baseball history? I had never even heard of him. I looked at Josh Gibson more closely. His eyes looked weary. There was a sadness in them.
    â€œNumbers don’t mean nothin’,” one of the other players said. “I remember this one time we were playin’ in Pittsburgh and Josh hit one outta sight. Looked like it was never gonna come down. The next day we were playin’ in Philly and this ball comes flying out of the sky. Somebody caught it and the ump says to Josh, ‘Yer out! Yesterday, in Pitts-burgh!’”
    Everybody cracked up. Josh Gibson introduced some of the other players. When he said this one guy’s name was Cool Papa Bell, Flip just about fainted again. Bell was another famous player from the Negro Leagues who I hadn’t heard of.
    â€œIs Satchel Paige here?” I asked.
    The players all started laughing, like I had told a joke or something.
    â€œSatchel Paige