Free Soar by Joan Bauer Page A

loaf?”
    Heads turn.
    â€œIf you were my ex-husband, I wouldn’t recommend it.”
    Sky and Logo put their turkey loaf plates back.
    I smile. “Thank you, ma’am. Lives have been spared.”
    That cracks her up. I move to the premade salad section—the safe ones covered with plastic wrap.
    â€œWant to eat with us, Jeremiah?” It’s Logo.
    â€œSure.”
    I follow them to their table, put my tray down, waste no time. “How’s baseball practice going?”
    â€œAw, you know,” Sky says.
    â€œNobody wants to play much,” Logo adds.
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBaseball’s dying in this town.”
    I look him in the eye. “You don’t look like you’re dying.”
    Logo looks right back at me. “Steroid City. That’s what people call Hillcrest now. My dad wants me out of baseball.”
    â€œQuit baseball?”
    Sky leans forward. “There’s nowhere to go, Jeremiah. We don’t have enough guys to play in the league. The Hornets are suspended. We’re dead.”
    I say, “I’ve thought a lot about dying.”
    They look at me strangely.
    â€œAnd I talked to this guy once.” He visited me in the hospital, actually, but they’re not ready for that. “He played basketball and he told me about the best coach he ever had. The coach was in a wheelchair.”
    They sit up.
    â€œHis legs were dead, but everything else he had made up for it. He could make a basket from centercourt. You know what this coach told him?”
    â€œWhat?” they say.
    â€œHe said, ‘Sometimes when you think you’re finished, you’re just beginning.’” I smile at them. “Every time I want to give up, every time I think it’s over, I think about that.”
    Franny sits at the table across from us, listening.
    I eat my salad. “Can I ask you guys something? How good are you at baseball?”
    I can see in their eyes they love the game.
    â€œSky can pitch fire,” Logo says.
    â€œLogo always tags them out at the plate,” Sky adds.
    I give them my eagle eye. “Do you know how many billions of people can’t do that? Am I right, Franny?”
    â€œYou’re right, Jeremiah.”
    I look at the guys. “You’re going to let the thing you do so well die?”
    â€œI don’t know!” Sky shouts.
    I lean forward. “You know what I think? If an adult doesn’t know how to be responsible, if they mess things up for their kid or the kids around them, then that adult shouldn’t have the power to keep ruining things for everyone.”
    I hear Franny take a deep breath.
    Sky says, “We’re dealing with a mess here.”
    â€œDid you make the mess?”
    â€œNo!” they say.
    â€œHow many guys could you get to practice with you?”
    Logo thinks. “A few more. The triplets would come. Their mother wants them out of the house. If we get more, then will you . . . you know . . . come and help us get better?”
    I stand up, check my phone. “I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”
    I’m free most every afternoon, but . . .
    Sky says, “Okay. We’ll get more players.”
    Logo stares at him. “By tomorrow?”
    Sky crushes his juice carton. “The rest of the league has played three games.”
    â€œThe league we’re not in anymore,” Logo adds.
    â€œWe need more players to get back in. Right?”
    Logo looks down. “Right.”
    Sky stands. “You want to sit out the season or see if we can get a real team together?”
    Logo coughs. “Can I get back to you on that?”
    Sky throws pita bread at him.
    Franny pinches his shoulder.
    And, people, I feel the energy!
    â—†Â â—†Â â—†
    â€œJerwal, I’m home.”
    Swoop.
    I’m in the kitchen. Jerwal rolls forward. “I want to tell you something.” Jerwal waits. “I’m