Free Jinxed! by Kurtis Scaletta, Eric Wight Page B

“Just come to Kids Get In Free Day. You’ll see.”
    â€œI was already going,” said Ivan.
    â€œMe too,” said Crystal.
    â€œEverybody’s going,” said Oscar. “Are you going?”
    â€œI’m a batboy! I have to be there!”
    â€œChad, don’t raise your voice,” said Ms. Singer.
    â€œSorry.”
    The bell rang, and school was over. Not just for the day but for the whole year.

ylan and I showed up at Pine City Park the next evening to unload the bus, just like Wally asked. It was beginning to get dark. The bus wasn’t there yet, so we waited. Dylan was quiet.
    â€œThis’ll be a fun summer, huh?” I asked.
    â€œSure,” Dylan answered—but not like he meant it.
    â€œThe Pines lost three games in Centralville and two out of three in Farmington,” I said. “They’re in last place by nine games.”
    â€œOh, well.” Dylan shrugged.
    â€œI wonder what the surprise is on Saturday?” I said.
    â€œSomething to do with baseball, I bet,” Dylan said.
    â€œHey, do you collect baseball cards?” I asked.
    â€œNope.”
    I wanted to tell Dylan about my collection, but decided not to. I stopped trying to talk to him. He didn’t want to talk to me anyway.
    The bus finally rolled in. There was so much mud spattered on it that you could barely see the porcupine logo on the side.
    The first player off the bus had a mustache like an old-timey movie star. He was new to the team, but I recognized him. It was the Pines’ new pitcher, Lance Pantaño.
    â€œGood evening, gentlemen,” he said, with a little bow. Then he leaned over and whispered, “Be careful. There’s a giant rat on the bus.”
    â€œA
rat
?” I took a step back.
    â€œJust be careful,” Pantaño said. With that, he turned and walked across the parking lot toward the players’ entrance.
    I looked back at the bus and saw Sammy Solaris coming down the steps. Sammy was usually the designated hitter. He could really smack the ball, but he was too slow to play in the field.
    â€œHave you seen the rat?” he asked in a low voice.
    â€œNo,” said Dylan.
    â€œKeep your eyes open,” said Sammy. He poked his thumb at the bus. “Huge . . . rat . . . in there . . .”
    â€œReally?” said Dylan.
    â€œHey, Sammy! Chad the batboy,” I jumped in. “I’m a big fan.”
    â€œYou’re a big fan, and he’s a big player. Allthose corn dogs, eh, Sammy?” said the next guy off the bus. It was Wayne Zane, the catcher. Zane’s face was as wrinkled as an old mitt. He had been with the Porcupines for as long as I could remember.
    â€œ
You’re
the corny one,” said Sammy. It was true. Wayne Zane was always joking around.
    â€œI’m just sayin’,” said Wayne. “But seriously, kids—watch out for that rat.”
    Both players set off for the locker room.
    Wally came out to the parking lot. He opened the side door of the bus and pulled out a cart.
    â€œYou kids haul in the equipment,” he said. “No dillydallying.”
    Dylan pulled out a canvas bag of bats, set it on the cart, and reached in for another.
    â€œWhat’s dillydallying?” I asked Dylan.
    â€œI think it’s like lollygagging,” he replied.
    â€œOh.”

    Â 
    Dillydallying? Lollygagging? Must mean talking instead of working. I knew baseball had a lot of funny words. I wondered if these were two of them.
    I started pulling out equipment, but I kept my eyes on the bus door.
    One by one, the rest of the team hopped off and headed for the locker room. There was Ryan Kimball, the tall, tattooed closer.
    â€œHave you seen the rat?” he asked us.
    â€œNo,” said Dylan.
    â€œKeep your eyes open,” Kimball said. “And watch your toes.”
    â€œEEEK, EEEK, EEEK!”
    â€œEEK! EEK!”
    Outfielders Danny O’Brien and Brian Daniels