Soar by Joan Bauer Read Free Book Online

it?” She cuts it once, then again and again until the parts are so small, they fall apart.
    I raise my hand. “You can’t call it a sandwich anymore.”
    â€œThat’s right.” She cuts it some more and holds up a crumb of bread. “A molecule is the smallest particle of a substance that still retains the properties of the substance. And the things molecules are made up of are called atoms.”
    A tall, skinny boy says, “You ruined the sandwich.”
    â€œAll in the name of science,” she explains.
    This is so much better than the three-paragraph essay, but not nearly as important as baseball.
    â—†Â â—†Â â—†
    I am sitting on the bleachers by the middle school baseball diamond watching four guys play catch. They’re actually pretty good. Two of them were in my science class.
    The tall, skinny guy has a good arm, throwing fast to the shortest guy, who jumps up to catch it and doesn’t miss. He turns around fast and throws it to an African American kid, who scoops it up and shouts, “Wake up, Lopez!” and throws it long to the fourthguy, who says, “I’m awake, Terrell!” and blasts it back.
    The good news: these guys have accuracy and hustle—two big pluses in serious baseball.
    The not-so-good news: there are only four of them. You need nine players for a team, plus a few extra.
    A toss high and away. The first guy runs, catches the ball, and tosses it fast to the second guy.
    I’m waiting for the rest of the somewhat/kind of team. Franny shows up holding the hand of a younger boy with curly dark hair who looks at the sky and smiles, then looks at the guys playing catch and smiles. This kid is just happy to be here.
    â€œHey, Benny Man,” the tall guy says. “Whaddya know?”
    Benny holds up his glove.
    â€œExcellent, man.” The tall guy throws a sizzler to the short kid, who leaps to catch it.
    â€œGreat catch!” Benny shouts, and he throws his glove in the air, tries to catch it, but doesn’t come close. Benny is on his knees now looking at something on the ground.
    Franny says, “You want your snack, Benny?”
    â€œI want my snack, Benny.” He giggles and walks over.
    She takes out a lunch box and opens it. “Your momwas out of oranges today, so she gave you apples. Okay?”
    Benny’s face changes. He shakes his head no.
    â€œThey’re good apples. My favorite.”
    Benny throws down his glove. “Only oranges. Only oranges.”
    â€œI understand, Benny. We’ll get them later.”
    He shakes his head again really hard. He looks like he might start crying.
    I stand up and say, “I’ve got an orange.” I walk over, take the orange out of my book bag, and give it to the kid.
    Franny smiles. “Benny, this is Jeremiah, our new neighbor.”
    I stick out my hand to shake Benny’s; he puts both his hands behind him.
    â€œBenny, that’s not polite. Jeremiah is our new friend. He lives on our street and he gave you his orange. He gave you a present.”
    Benny is hunched over now, trying to get the skin off the orange.
    â€œI’ll show you a secret of how to do that.” I hold out my hand. “I need the orange just for a second. I’ll give it back.”
    Benny looks at my hand, at the orange, at Franny,who nods. He drops the orange in my hand.
    â€œWatch this,” I tell him. I see two other guys come to play ball. One guy is doing a practice swing with a bat; the other is crouching down like a catcher.
    I rub the orange round and round in my hands to loosen the skin. Walt taught me this. Then I peel it and it comes right off.
    Benny claps.
    I break the orange into sections and hand them to him. He holds them like I just gave him money.
    â€œWow,” he says.
    Franny pushes a paper plate toward him. “Put them here, Benny.”
    Benny makes a flower pattern with them on the plate.
    â€œThat’s pretty,”