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Jackie sat in the locker room after the game. They'd done it, closed out the Cardinals and maintained their spot. Next was Cincinnati, for three games against the Reds. Most of the others were showering, and Branca was heading that way, a towel around his waist. But he stopped when he saw Jackie sitting there alone.

“Can I ask you something, Jackie?” the young pitcher said. “How come you never shower until everyone else is done?”

Jackie stared at him, wondering if he really didn't know, but Branca wouldn't let it drop.

“You shy or something?” he asked.

Jackie shrugged and looked away. “I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Branca shook his head. “We're a team. On a hot streak. Half the wins on account of you. You're the bravest guy I ever saw. You're leading us and you're afraid to take a shower?” Jackie looked at him, and Branca smiled. “C'mon. Take a shower with me.” Then he laughed. “Hey, I don't mean it like that.”

All chatter stopped and everybody looked over as Branca entered the showers — followed by Jackie. Then everyone went back to talking and joking and getting clean. Jackie was surprised by how much that meant to him. But he did notice Dixie Walker leaving.
Who's the loneliest man on the team now?
Jackie wondered. He was pretty sure it wasn't him anymore.

Jackie settled himself at the plate. It was September 17. They were at Forbes Field, facing Pittsburgh again. They'd swept Cincinnati, all three games, and almost guaranteed themselves the pennant — if they could win today.

But it was Pittsburgh. And Ostermueller was pitching.

“You don't belong!” he shouted at Jackie, his face red. “You'll never belong!”

Jackie just waited for the pitch.

It was outside. Jackie didn't move. Ball one.

The second one was low and away. Ball two.

The third was outside as well. Ball three.

Was he just going to walk him? “Give me something I can hit!” he shouted at the mound. And he muttered to himself, “What are you afraid of?” Was Ostermueller really that worried about what Jackie could do? Jackie felt a surge of pride and power. Maybe he was.

The Pirates pitcher scowled at him. “You want it?” he hollered back. He tensed, wound up, and let fly.

Crack!

“Back, back, back,” Jackie heard the announcer shout, “and oh, doctor! Robinson got his pitch!”

That ball was gone!

Jackie dropped the bat and started toward first. Then second. The Dodgers fans were going wild. Even the Pittsburgh fans were clapping. He felt a smile stretch across his face as he ran. He could almost see Rachel, watching him proudly. And Rickey, waiting to shake his hand. Jackie rounded third and headed toward home plate. All his teammates were waiting for him, and he laughed from sheer joy.

Finally, Jackie Robinson was home.