Free Man Out at First by Matt Christopher, Ellen Beier

1

    “Wish me luck, Mom!” Turtleneck Jones called as he headed toward the door.
    “Good luck, tall guy!” Mrs. Jones called back.
    Turtleneck grinned. His mom always said that just before he went out to play baseball. He
was
tall for an eight-year-old. That's why Coach Parker had him play first base for the Peach Street Mudders.
    He grabbed his glove and ran outside. At this time of year, nothing in this world was better than playing baseball!
    He had just stepped off the porch when he heard a moan from the house next door. He looked over and saw his neighbor, Mr.
     Ebenezer Shaw, clutching his leg in pain.
    “Wait a minute, Mr. Shaw!” Turtleneck cried. “I'll be right there!”
    He rattled down the remaining steps and rushed next door. He saw the problem right away. Mr. Shaw's foot had fallen through
     a rotten part of his porch steps.
    “Doggone step!” Mr. Shaw grunted. “Been meaning to fix it, but kept putting it off… putting it off. You should always take
     care of problems right away, Theodore.”
    “I guess so,” Turtleneck said. He bent down to knock some of the broken pieces of wood aside so that Mr. Shaw could pull out
     his leg.
    After a few minutes the old man's foot was free. Turtleneck helped him into the house. The Peach Street Mudders were playing
     the Joy Street Devils that afternoon and he didn't want to be late. Coach Parker didn't tolerate lateness. But Turtleneck
     had to make sure Mr. Shaw was okay before he headed to the baseball diamond.

    “Thanks, Theodore,” Mr. Shaw said as he sat down in an easy chair and leaned his white cane against his leg. “I might have
     been stuck there all afternoon if you hadn't come along.”
    Turtleneck wondered why Mr. Shaw, a blind man, would want to live all by himself in this big, old house. Turtleneck's mom
     had told him that Mr. Shaw was very independent. But it was dangerous, Turtleneck thought.
    Turtleneck bent down to give Mr. Shaw's foot a good look. “I don't see any bleeding or swelling, Mr. Shaw. Does anything hurt?”
    “Nah.” Mr. Shaw waved his hand. “I feel fine. Just a bit foolish.” He pointed toward his wall of books. “Those books have
     taught me how to fix things, like leaky sinks and broken toasters.” Mr. Shaw laughed. “Lookslike I'll have to re-read the one on how to fix porch steps! Maybe you'd like to help me repair that hole?”
    “I don't really know that much about carpentry, but I'll try,” Turtleneck said. Then he glanced up at the clock on the wall.
     “Yikes!” He quickly jumped to his feet and grabbed his glove.
    “I'm going to be late for my baseball game, Mr. Shaw! See you later!”

2

    Turtleneck ran all the way to the baseball field. By the time he got there, the game had already started.
    Coach Parker was sitting at the end of the dugout with the substitute members of the team. The rest of the Peach Street Mudders
     were out on the field. Turtleneck went over to apologize. “Sorry, Coach. I—I had to help a guy. His foot was stuck.”
    The coach looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “That's a new one. Grab some pine, T.”
    Turtleneck sat down next to Tootsie Malone, the outfield substitute, and looked at the scoreboard. It was already the bottom
     of the first inning. Then he glanced at the field and saw men on second and third.
    “There's only one out so far. And they've already got one run,” Tootsie said. “Jake Avery belted a homer.”
    “Rats,” said Turtleneck. Jake Avery was the Joy Street Devils' leadoff hitter.
    Sitting on the bench was a pain. Turtleneck could remember a time not too long ago when he sat on the bench more often than
     he played. New guys on a team—especially if they didn't have much experience—had to expect that. The better players always
     started first, then were replaced after three or four innings, provided there were enough subs to replace them.
    Sparrow Fisher, the Mudders' left-handed pitcher, threw three strikes to Phil Hanson for the second out.