Free Safe at Home by Mike Lupica Page A

much,” Nick said.
    It was when he’d moved up to second in theline—the first kid had missed all three times, so Mr. Dodds was still dry for now—that Nick saw the group of varsity baseball players walking around the corner of the lower school building.
    Please
, Nick thought. Please don’t let them see me standing here, like I’m in the on-deck circle.
    The last thing he needed was an audience, even for something as simple as trying to dunk his English teacher.
    This really wasn’t supposed to be about baseball today. Today was supposed to be all silly stuff at the Frogtown Fair. All week long in baseball, every single practice, Nick had felt everybody watching him. And he’d stunk.
    It was why he’d promised himself he wasn’t going to pick up a ball all weekend long. Just take a little break until Monday, then pretend he was starting over again, the day before their opener against Valley Falls.
    That was his plan for the weekend: Come to the fair, hang with Gracie and Jack, then read comics.
    Maybe even do a little of Mr. Dodds’s homework.
    Only now here came his baseball season rightaround the corner and right at him. Gary Watson. Steve Carberry. Joey Johnson. John Fox, the second-best pitcher on varsity after Gary. All of them with ice cream cones in their hands.
    “Wow, here comes your very own cheering section,” Jack said.
    “
Booing
section is more like it,” Nick said.
    When the varsity players got close, Nick could hear Gary Watson say, “Hey, look who’s up! Our new backstop.”
    Steve Carberry said, “Mr. Dodds has nothing to worry about. He’s not going anywhere near the water with Crandall throwing.”
    They all laughed. And it was clear that they weren’t going anywhere until Nick made the three throws that Gracie had already paid for.
    “Oh, just ignore them,” Gracie said.
    Nick wanted to tell them it would be easier to ignore a fastball somebody had thrown right up in his grill, but he didn’t, he just tried to pretend as if Gary and the rest of them weren’t even there.
    “C’mon, Crandall!” Mr. Dodds yelled from the Easy Dunker, trying to give him the Stare. “Youknow you want to dunk me the way you would a basketball.”
    “Yeah,” Gary Watson chimed in. “Let’s see that famous arm of yours we keep hearing so much about.”
    Nick gave a quick look in Gary’s direction—he couldn’t help himself—and noticed a few more of his teammates had suddenly appeared.
    What, he thought, did they make some kind of announcement all over the grounds?
    Step right up and watch Nick Crandall, the rag-armed catcher, try to sink an English teacher?
    “Just put the first one on the target and let’s get out of here,” Gracie said.
    “Right,” Nick said.
    One more time he wanted to be as brave as Gracie Wright.
    Or just
be
Gracie.
    “Come on, it’s barely more than a throw back to the pitcher,” Jack said into Nick’s ear. “Cake.”
    Mrs. Carey, the seventh-grade science teacher, had handed Gracie the balls, old scuffed-up baseballs. Gracie gave one to Nick.
    “Only one you’re going to need, Captain,” she said.
    Off to the side Nick heard Gary Watson, trying to sound like a public address announcer at the ballpark, say in a deep voice, “Now pitching for the Hayworth Tigers, their
catcher
, young Nick Crandall.”
    Now the other varsity players with him started chanting his name.
    Nick, Nick, Nick.
    Clapping as they did, having a good old time.
    Nick felt himself squeezing the dirty baseball in his right hand, like he was trying to squeeze the seams right off the sucker.
    Let it go, he told himself.
    Throw the stupid ball.
    Only he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t raise his arm. Couldn’t make this one stupid throw.
    Just stood there with the ball, arm hanging at his side.
    “I can’t do this,” he said, handed the ball back to Gracie. Walked away.
    He wasn’t even going to look back, not evenwhen the hoots from behind him seemed to be chasing him as he moved toward