Soar by Joan Bauer Read Free Book Online Page A

Franny says.
    â€œPretty,” Benny says. “I’m forty-two.”
    I laugh. “You don’t look that old, Benny.”
    He doesn’t connect with that.
    â€œBenny is eight.” Franny hands him an orange section.
    So, what’s your story, Benny?
    I hear, “You gonna pitch, Sky, or are you gonna stand there?”
    I turn to look at the field. The tall, skinny guy, Sky,says, “I’m gonna pitch. Don’t blink, you’ll miss it.”
    He does a windmill warm-up. The batter bounces a little, waiting for the throw. Logo, the kid I met on the bus, is catcher. He makes a signal. Sky nods a little and lets one loose, missing the plate by, I’d say, a mile.
    â€œSettle down,” Logo tells him.
    The batter waits. Sky brings his right arm up and snaps the ball in the dirt.
    Benny arranges his sandwich around the orange pieces and puts his carrots in a line on his napkin. He opens his little box of raisins and puts five raisins inside the orange.
    â€œCome on, Sky!” the catcher shouts.
    Sky lifts his right arm, pushes off on his foot, and gets the ball closer to the plate, but not close enough.
    I look at Franny, who is handing Benny a box of juice with a straw. “This is the baseball team?”
    â€œThis is the baseball team,” she says.
    â€œGreat catch!” Benny shouts.
    â€œWay to go, Benny Man!” Sky shouts back.
    â€œThey need nine guys to play,” I mention.
    She bends Benny’s straw. “They need nine people, Jeremiah. They don’t all have to be guys.”
    True. I walk on the field. We need to get this moving. “You’re good,” I tell them.
    They like that.
    â€œI think, Sky, you’ve got power; you need to keep your eyes focused on the catcher’s glove and change your release point. Release the ball a little earlier. You’re hanging on to it too long.”
    Sky doesn’t like that. “Who are you?”
    â€œJeremiah Lopper. Try it, Sky.”
    He stands there, looks around.
    â€œCome on.” Logo crouches down, holds his glove. “Right in here, guy.”
    â€œLet the ball go earlier,” I remind him.
    Sky does a warm-up, lets the ball go, and
wham
.
    I nod. “That’s a strike.”
    The guys look impressed.
    â€œYou play?” the black kid asks me.
    â€œI used to. I coach now.”
    They laugh.
    They can laugh.
    â€œWe’re looking for a coach who’s a little taller.” Logo breaks up at that.
    â€œShut up, Logo,” Terrell warns. “What do you mean, you coach?”
    â€œI mean, if people are interested, I can really help you play better.”
    Even though I just improved their game, I can see they need time to process this.
    I look toward the little hill and the big, shiny baseball bat statue. I grab my book bag. “Gotta go.”

Chapter
10

    â€œYOU LOOK TIRED,” Walt mentions. “Did you overdo yesterday?”
    â€œI’m napping.”
    Walt pulls the car onto the freeway. “Your eyes are open and you’re talking.”
    â€œEagles never shut their eyes.”
    â€œThey don’t speak, either.”
    It’s eleven a.m. I had to leave school early for an appointment. We are headed to see my new cardiologist, Dr. Dugan, who won’t be my cardiologist for very long, but I’m hoping she’ll give it everything she’s got.
    â€œI can’t sleep.” I tell him about the baseball mystery at school. “I don’t know what’s going on, Walt.”
    He merges into the middle lane. “I do.”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œOne of the guys I work with told me. His son was on the team.”
    â€œWhat did he say?”
    Walt turns off the radio. “He said they’d had a serious ball club. It was a feeder team for the Hornets. The kids worked hard, and the coach, a guy named Bordin, pushed them hard. Travel baseball. Camp. Year-round stuff to keep in shape. Total focus.