Cherry Blossom Baseball (14 page)

B
illy
warmed up with a couple of pitches as they watched from the sidelines.

“They've put him on the mound to see what he's made of,” Eddie said. “Hopefully all your coaching has paid off.”

“He knows where the plate is,” Michiko said.

Mr. Ward pawed through a couple of pages on a clipboard and then looked up. “Donald Maitland up to bat,” he called out.

Donald stepped up to the plate. Billy struck him out. Donald slung his bat in despair and went back to the bench.

“Robert Wells,” Mr. Ward called out.

“Bobby can really hit,” Eddie told her. “He was on the team last year.”

Billy threw two strikes. On the third pitch, Bobby hit a sharp bounce to Billy's right. He caught it, spun left, and threw it to first.

“Out,” yelled the coach.

Bobby looked at Billy as if he had just seen him for the first time and left for the bench.

Jimmy Johnston was next at bat. He hit it high but short. Billy raised his hands for the catch, took a step backward, and stumbled. Michiko's fingers flew to her face as Billy's arms moved at his sides like a windmill. He went down, but the ball landed in his glove.

“Way to go,” Eddie called out.

Coach Ward blew his whistle, sent Billy to the bench, and consulted his clipboard. “That's it?” He looked around and then walked over to Michiko and Eddie. “You trying out?”

“Not for Junior League,” Eddie answered with a grin.

“Not you, numbskull,” the coach said, “your buddy, the one that played ball out west.” He leaned in front of Eddie and hollered at Michiko. “Hey kid, what's your name?”

Her eyes widened.

“It's Mitch,” Eddie told the coach. He turned to Michiko with a huge grin.

“You want to play baseball?” the coach asked. “I'm trying to make an even dozen.”

Michiko turned and looked at Eddie with surprise.

“You want to play?” he asked her.

She nodded.

Eddie pushed her shoulder. “Then get on that mound.”

“Okay, Mitch,” the coach bawled out as he walked away. “You're at bat. Bobby, you can pitch. Mark, let's see you as catcher. You five in the field. Let's play some ball.”

Michiko pulled down her uncle's baseball cap, making sure it was on good and tight. It was a bit large for her, but she was thankful for that, with all the hair stuffed inside. As she walked past the coach, he gave her a hard slap on the back, and she fell forward toward the bench. Billy jumped up in surprise when he saw her stumble toward him.

Michiko threw him a warning glance, and he sat back down with a thud.

Bobby put the ball into his mitt, raised it to his chin, and gave her a hard look.

She let his first ball go by.
Too low,
she thought and swung her bat to show him where she wanted the ball.

The next ball barely missed her ear as it whizzed past her head, but she didn't swing.
What is he thinking?
she wondered as the catcher tossed the ball back.
If he makes me walk, it only looks bad for him.
Out of the corner of her eye she glanced at Eddie. Coach Ward, standing beside him, was writing on his clipboard.

On the next pitch, Michiko sent the ball soaring out into the field. She dashed to first base. There she took a deep breath and turned to see the play.
So far, so good.
Someone fumbled it in the field. She ran again. At second, Eddie gave her a thumbs-up.

The next batter swung wildly at the first two balls. He hit it far enough for her to make it to third base.

The catcher raised his facemask and laughed when the next batter was out at first, but he missed the ball on its return. As he watched it roll away, Michiko stole home. The boys on the bench all stood up in surprise.

Mr. Ward wrote on his clipboard again.

The second time Michiko got up to bat, she swung so hard, she had to catch herself from falling over. She fouled the next ball and her heart sank. She swung at the third in panic.

‘“Yer out,” the umpire called out.

She heard the catcher snicker under his mask.

Her grandfather's voice came into her head as she walked to the field.
Accomplishments remain with oneself.
She knew they were all thinking that she was no good.

Michiko spent the next couple of hours in centre field under the hot summer sun. She tipped her head back and forth but didn't dare take off her hat to shake her hair free. Her feet, encased in her leather farm boots, felt like they were baking in an oven.

The bat cracked. Michiko looked up and walked backward, keeping her eye on the tiny white blur as it got closer and closer. She was directly under it when the white ball seemed to disappear in the sun's brightness. She squinted, opened her glove, and heard the ball drop. When she looked down, it was in her mitt.

The kids on the bench roared in approval.

Her hopes were high until the coach moved her off the field back on to the bench.

Something cold hit her shoulder and she looked around. Eddie stood beside her with a large grin. “Catch this,” he said. “You need a cool down.” He threw another piece of ice at her. Michiko caught it and rubbed it across the back of her neck.

Donald went up to bat again and hit the ball high. As Michiko shaded her eyes against the sun, she saw a blur flying toward her face, but before she could get out of the way, she felt the ball's hard crushing blow as she slid to the ground.

The first thing she saw when she tried to open her eye was Eddie's furrowed brow. Coach Ward stood behind him. “You okay?”

Michiko sat up, but the world swam. She put her hand to her face, clenching her teeth together. Her forehead and right cheek pounded, but she didn't dare cry.

“You're lucky you didn't get knocked out,” Eddie said, taking her by the elbow to help her stand. He let her catch her breath and then led her to the parking lot.

“What happened?” Mary asked, racing to their side when she saw them.

Carolyn followed. “I told you she would get hurt.”

Eddie opened the door of his father's big black sedan. “I'll take you home.”

Michiko's headache and the bright summer sun reduced her world to such a small space, she could hardly see to get in the car.

“We're supposed to be going for ice cream,” Carolyn whined. “Why can't she just wait for Billy's father to come back?”

Mary shot her a look of disgust. “First we are going to take her home,” she said, “and then my father's going to go to her house and take a look. You can stay here.”

Eddie leaned in, removed Michiko's hand from her red, swollen eye and gave her a handkerchief of cold ice. He was so close, she could smell his spearmint gum. “My dad's a doctor,” he whispered. “Everything will be fine.”

Not trusting herself to speak, Michiko could only nod, and even that brought pain. She slumped back against the seat, holding the handkerchief against her eye.

Dr. Adams, a tall, plain-faced man with dark hair and the scent of aftershave, folded his stethoscope into his deep, dark, square-bottomed bag and said, “I've given her a full check-up. She's in perfect health. No damage to the eye, but she will have a nasty bruise. A few days off school will allow for the swelling to go down.”

Sam saw him to the door as Eiko administered another cold compress.

Just as Michiko drifted off to sleep, she felt a rough hand at her chin. “I probably didn't even make the team,” she mumbled to her father.

“You'll get on the team,” Sam responded, patting her head. “You got my arm. But you sure gonna have a shiner,” he added. “Good thing Sadie isn't here. She'd laugh a lot at you.”

Michiko felt the sting of her tears. If only she knew where Sadie was.

“What happened to you?” the librarian asked as she stared at Michiko's rainbow-coloured face when they returned their books on Saturday.

“I got hit with a ball,” Michiko said, pulling the bill of her baseball cap lower.

Annie pressed her small hands to the sides of her face and frowned. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Not too bad,” Michiko replied.

“Baseball is stupid,” Annie said, crossing her arms and turning to the window.

“Better get used to it,” Billy said, throwing his cap on to the table. “We're going to play every single day of spring break.”

Michiko waited a long time for Billy to turn up for their usual game of catch. The sharp odour of cow manure filled her nostrils as she biked up his laneway to see what was keeping him. She found him on the steps of the long front porch, which sagged like an old couch, with his head in his hands. His dirt-streaked cheeks made her think he'd been crying. She waited a few moments before she spoke. “Aren't we going to practise?”

“Nope,” he said, his head still in his hands. “Annie threw my baseball in the lake. She had to go to her room until my mom decides how to punish her.” He stood up and kicked the porch. “But that doesn't bring my ball back.”

Michiko sat in silence, studying the ground. She noticed a bottle cap and nudged it with her toe to see what it said. She reached down, picked it up, and put it in her pocket.

“What are you going to use that for?” Billy asked, raising his head.

“Hiro collects bottle caps,” she said. “I don't think he has an Orange Crush.”

Billy stood up. “Come on,” he said as they walked behind the cow barn to a large, red metal box. “My dad fixed up this old cooler because he was tired of walking to the house for a cold drink.” He pulled the handle on the front panel and removed a tin trough. “Help yourself,” he said. “We've got thousands.”

“Thousands?” Michiko repeated in awe.

Billy took the trough to the wooden box beside the machine. “See?” he said as he dumped the bottle caps on top of the already rusting pile. “It's not always soda pop,” he explained. “My dad puts in whatever he feels like drinking.”

Michiko picked out a bottle cap and gave it a toss in the air. Her eyes widened with an idea. She turned and scuffed out four lines in the dirt yard with the heel of her boot. “Single, double, triple, and home run,” she told Billy. “Go get your bat.”

Billy grinned. “First we need a strike zone,” he said, picking up a stick and dipping it in the scummy water around the cow trough. He marked a muddy square on the wall of the barn.

It took them a few moments of practice to get the caps skimming through the air using a sidearm toss, until their game of bottle-cap baseball began, and Billy knew exactly who was going to have to pick them all up.