The Palace Thief by Ethan Canin Read Free Book Online

batting order had been chosen randomly, and therefore I did not come to the plate until the third inning. By this time we already had the bearing of a losing team. Mr. Peters had struck out in the number-four position, as had three others of the six men preceding me, and none of our players had reached base. Therefore it was with some trepidation that I entered the batter’s box and faced Mr. Corsetti to lead off the third inning. As I said, however, I had slept well, and as I dug in my spikes and loosened the bat on my shoulder I felt a limberness in my arms and an acuity in my eyes that I had not felt for years. Briefly, I hit the first pitch into left-center field for a double.
    Although I was not brought around to score, that inning in the field I made a rather nice play at third base on a ball that had apparently been hit into the hole. Mr. Peters slapped me on the back, and Kent Powell paid me a compliment from his position behind me. Furthermore, I noticed afterward that Willie Mays now sat in our dugout and that he had seen the play. Needless to say, I was pleased. Two innings later I hit a nice ball into right field, and amid the general hubbub from the dugout as I made the turn at first base I believe I heard thespecific praise of Mr. Mays. Although between innings he chatted only with Mr. Peters on our bench, I felt loose of limb and elevated of spirit and did not take notice, although it occurred to me briefly that Willie Mays and Eugene Peters had hobnobbed before.
    It would not be inaccurate to say that my play had inspired the Sluggers. Our next turn at the plate produced a run and the following inning two more, so that late in the game we trailed by only one run and were in every way a rejuvenated club. In the meantime, Dr. Argusian had matched my feats. In the fourth inning he had made a fine catch of a sinking line drive that ended a brief rally for us, and in the sixth he had hit a ball to the wall in left-center field. It is to new heights that competition naturally lifts us, and in the seventh I myself hit a ball to the same spot. I can only say that some small change seemed to have occurred inside me, some quickening of reflex and sharpening of vision that allowed me to see the pitch as though against a background of black and to hit it as though murderous. The ball caromed from my bat and did not dip until it hit the warning track in left field, and by this time I was standing on second base breathing the bracing aroma of infield clay. The game proceeded neck and neck. Our opponents scored a run in the top of the eighth, and we answered with two in the bottom. Willie Mays seemed to be rooting for our side, and as we left the bench that inning tied with the Bashers, he slapped hands with Mr. Peters and spoke general encouragement to us all.
    Although Willie Mays said nothing more to me specifically, I believe it is accurate and therefore not immodest to say that by the final inning the game had turned into a contest between Dr. Argusian and me. He had reached base safely four times in four appearances at the plate, and I had made the same percentagein three; he had produced a defensive gem and so had I. I had noticed that in their dugout the men seemed to gather about Dr. Argusian, and although the corollary did not occur in our own, it was easy enough to see why. Willie Mays sat with us through the entire last half of the game, and for all of us, I believe, this was like finding ourselves in a taxicab with the king of England.
    Although it strains the credibility to recall what happened at the end of that first contest, indeed the final inning unfolded like the glorious dream of a child. We came to the plate in the bottom of the ninth tied with the Bashers, and Eugene Peters led off. Briefly, he reached base on a walk—the first given up by Mr. Corsetti; he was promptly sacrificed to second base, where he remained while the number-six batter struck out swinging and I came to the plate, as luck would