Rivals (2010) (13 page)

JOSH HEAVED HIS LUNCH
into a wastepaper basket with a mighty spatter. He choked and coughed, heaved again, then took a swig from his water bottle to wash the vile taste from his mouth. He wiped the corners of his lips on the back of his wrist. The makeup artist hurried onto the set with a wet towel, dabbing his face before reapplying the powder.

Josh felt his face flush with embarrassment. He glanced over at where Jaden stood, knowing it was her only by the jeans and pink polo shirt. The bright lights blotted out her face and he worried at what her expression must be, but not for long. Bob Costas introduced both Josh and Mickey Jr. in glowing terms, then started asking questions as if nothing unusual had happened. Mickey Jr., too, carried on as if the three of them were
hanging around the kitchen table. Josh watched in wonder as the two of them chatted. When a question came his way, he struggled to choke out a couple words and his face only grew hotter.

After several minutes Stu Lisson walked out onto the set, interrupting Bob and kneeling beside Josh so he could speak into his ear.

“Hey,” Stu said in a pleasant whisper, “we love the scar and the whole story behind it, but you gotta leave it alone, okay? Maybe sit on your hands?”

“Oh sure,” Josh said, nodding fervently, dropping his hands, and parking them under his legs, mortified that he’d been picking at his face without even knowing it.

“Okay, great,” Stu said, standing up with a wink and a thumbs-up. “Doing good, Josh. Breathe deep.”

Josh nodded some more and tried to follow the advice he remembered Jaden had given him and now the producer, too.

“Okay?” Bob Costas said, looking up into the lights. “Rolling again?”

Bob Costas touched his ear, nodded, and started in again, asking questions and looking—just as Jaden had said he would—right into Josh’s and Mickey Jr.’s brains at the wheels. Josh knew his own wheels were rusty and broken down, especially when asked to speak about the heroic operation he had in order to play in the national championship. Then, flustered as he was, Josh suddenly understood that his role in the interview
was one of the hopeless underdog and not the baseball rival.

As Mickey Jr. finished explaining why the Comets were such huge favorites to win, Josh straightened his back and raised his chin.

“Well, Josh,” Bob Costas said, turning to him when Mickey Jr. had finished, “it’ll be a tall order for your Titans to stand up to the Comets.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Costas,” Josh said without wavering, “talk is cheap, and champions are like blue moons. They don’t come around much. Me and the rest of the Titans are planning on winning the big one.”

Bob Costas paused for a moment, then blinked before a smile crept onto his face. “Well said, Josh. That’s why we play the game, right? To see who that champion is going to be.”

“He doth protest too much,” Mickey Jr. said, smirking.

“Quoting Shakespeare now, Mickey?” Bob Costas said, obviously enjoying the literary reference. “What do you mean?”

“Josh is busy telling us how they plan on winning the big one,” Mickey Jr. said, “because he knows he’s the underdog.”

“I’m okay with being an underdog,” Josh said, his chin still high. “This country was built by underdogs. It’s as American as baseball and apple pie.”

Bob Costas beamed. “Oh yes.”

Mickey Jr. seemed at a loss before he said, “That was then, this is now.”

“Right,” Josh said, feeling himself run out of clever things to say.

“But now America stands alone,” Mickey Jr. said, grinning at himself as he gained the upper hand once again. “We’re the only superpower left in the world. They say every dog has its day; well, the underdog had its day already. Now we live in an age of champions, dynasties, and superpowers, and that’s what the Comets are.”

Bob Costas gave Josh a second to say something, but when it became clear he had nothing left to add, the famous announcer wished them both luck. As the audio man unclipped his microphone, Josh breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that at least he’d gotten a couple things right.

The flight back to Cooperstown was a blur, but with every passing minute, Josh’s clever words seemed to fade as the faltering end of the interview took center stage in his mind. Josh spent the trip with his head hanging low between both hands. He had a headache and used that as his excuse not to talk. Everyone left him alone, either out of thoughtfulness or a lack of concern, and to Josh it didn’t matter. The most uncomfortable part was when he rode alone with Jaden in the back of the limo. She tried to talk to him a couple times and even spoke with encouragement about how they could edit
the show to keep only the best of his answers.

Josh couldn’t even respond. The smell of vomit, his stumbling words, and, in the end, his inability to even speak haunted him. Finally Jaden gave up trying, and they stared out their separate windows as the long car rolled through the countryside’s fading light. Somehow the pressure seemed less after he mumbled good night to Jaden and she disappeared down the gravel path toward her cabin.

Josh watched her go, his mind now turning to the game and how they might win it despite the odds. He’d need to be at his best, and as he replayed his finest moment in the interview and Bob Costas’s reply about why they played the game, Josh took heart.

When he went into his own cabin, Josh did his best to answer his parents’ and Benji’s questions but used the same headache to make quick work of them. His dad was kind enough not to say “I told you so” as Josh recounted how bad things had really gone, except for his last answer. When he finally closed the door to his tiny cabin bedroom, Josh climbed up into his bunk and lay staring at the ceiling.

The door opened quietly, and Benji lay down on the bottom bunk without a word. Josh waited for several minutes before he spoke.

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Josh said, even though Benji’s presence somehow comforted him.

“Ah, that’s okay,” Benji said. “You can only watch so
many campfires and eat so many s’mores. My hair’s starting to smell like smoke. I liked how you said you ended that thing with Costas, the stuff about talk being cheap.”

Josh smiled in the dark.

“Anyway,” Benji said brightly, “forget about all that TV stuff. We got a game to play on Sunday, right? We’re in the championship. Who knows if Mullet Head Mullen will even get there. They gotta win tomorrow. We’re already in.”

Josh sighed and said, “They seem pretty confident.”

“I’d be confident too if I had the umpire in my back pocket,” Benji said.

“Hopefully with Jaden’s help we can put a stop to all that,” Josh said, but even in the small, dark bedroom, just him and his best friend, the words sounded weak and without meaning.

THE NEXT MORNING, SATURDAY,
Josh, Benji, Josh’s dad, and the entire team went to watch the other semifinal game together. The Comets faced a dynamite team from Houston called the Roughriders, and it wasn’t easy to find a seat. They had to climb all the way to the top corner of the bleachers in the section dominated by Houston fans.

TV cameras were everywhere.

Because the Comets were saving Mickey Jr. to pitch in what they hoped would be the championship game, two of their other pitchers shared duty on the mound. Meanwhile, Mickey Jr. played first base. At first it seemed to Josh that Seevers was allowing the Comets pitchers a much bigger strike zone than the team from Houston, and from the shouts and jeers of the Houston
fans around him, Josh knew he wasn’t the only one who thought so. But the advantage was a subtle one, and Jaden’s words about baseball fans always complaining about the calls when they were losing came into Josh’s mind. It was funny, but the most conclusive proof they had of cheating was Myron’s reaction to what Josh had seen.

As the score began to widen, the strike zone for the Comets pitchers seemed to shrink. The Comets had a powerful offense led by Mickey Jr., who hit two singles, one of them earning an RBI, and even a home run with two runners on. Before the end of the fourth inning, the Comets enjoyed an 8–3 lead. Josh ached to see something amiss but had to admit to himself that in the fifth and sixth innings, Seevers called an even game. Still, the Houston team could only score two additional runs, and even though it looked like the Roughriders might rally, the Comets won 8–5, making it official: Sunday’s final game for the Hall of Fame trophy and the national championship would take place between the LA Comets and the Syracuse Titans.

“Well, it’s the rivalry they all wanted to see, you against Mickey Mullen Junior. HBO’s gotta be happy,” Josh’s dad said before turning his attention to the notebook he had in his lap and jotting down some final thoughts that Josh knew he’d process later when he was developing his strategy for the championship game.

As they sat waiting for the crowd to disperse and
the teams shook hands over home plate, Benji leaned toward Josh, pointing at the far dugout, and in a whisper said, “Look at her. Can you believe this? Another one.”

Josh followed Benji’s finger to see Jaden sitting by herself in the Comets dugout, writing what Josh guessed would be some final thoughts in her notepad. Benji removed a copy of the
Post-Standard
’s sports page from the day before that he’d kept rolled up in his back pocket and slapped it against the bleachers’ wooden seat. It was the page from that morning with a big color picture of Mickey Mullen Jr. on it. Another photo, the size of a postage stamp, showed the smiling face of Jaden, the author of the big story about Mickey Jr. and his no-hitter.

“
We
get into the championship game,” Benji said with a growl, “and all she can write about is surfer boy.”

“You don’t see many no-hitters,” Josh said, doing his best to stay positive, forcing himself not to think of Jaden as a double agent, despite her focus on Mickey Jr.’s achievement from two days ago.

“With
that
guy’s strike zone you do,” Benji said with a grunt at the umpire who was leaving the field. “
I
could throw a no-hitter if he was on my payroll. What’s she going to do when this tournament is over? Move to Holly wood? When we’re all home and she comes crawling back, I promise you she gets no sympathy, right?”

Benji nudged Josh in the ribs. “Right?”

“I don’t know, Benji,” Josh said, tugging at his cap. “Sometimes you have to have blind trust, move on. My mom’s always saying it’s better not to carry bitterness around with you. It’s like poison that gets in your blood.”

“Well, my blood’s good and red,” Benji said, digging his paw into a box of popcorn and filling his face.

“What’s that got to do with it?” Josh asked.

“Like a red-blooded American,” Benji said through a mouthful of corn.

“Yeah? And?” Josh said, looking at him quizzically, wondering what the connection was until he realized there was none.

“Well,” Josh said to Benji, standing up to get out of there and ready to change the subject, “it’s official. Titans versus Comets for the national championship.”

“Bring it on,” Benji said.

Josh nodded, then winced as Mickey Jr. returned from a swarm of cameras to the dugout. He slapped his famous father a high five, then gave Jaden a hug. As Josh watched, the evil thoughts crept back into his mind.

JOSH AND BENJI LET
Josh’s dad block for them as they navigated through the crowd toward the parking lot. As they funneled past the fence next to first base, Benji stopped and pointed to the sky.

“Look,” he said.

Josh shaded his eyes and looked up for the source of a thundering noise that grew louder by the second. The windows of a tar black helicopter glinted like diamonds as the aircraft floated down toward the outfield. When it landed, Josh did a double take at what he saw. Crouched behind Mickey Mullen, Mickey Jr., and Myron was Jaden, scurrying beneath the spinning blades and hopping into the helicopter with the rest. A couple of cameramen and photographers spilled out onto the field to get a shot as the big bird whined and lifted itself off
the grass. The wind from the helicopter swept dust from the baseline into their eyes and mouths. Benji coughed dramatically and swatted the air in front of his face.

“What the heck was that?” Benji asked. “I thought you and her were on good terms again.”

“We are.”

Benji squinted up at the copter as it leveled off and whooshed away in the direction of town. “Not as good as Mickey Junior, I guess. At least until you can give her a helicopter ride, huh?”

Josh’s father had stopped to watch along with everyone else, and he gave Josh a wave with his head and continued on through the enormous crowd. They got onto the team bus with the rest of the Titans and waited in the hot, dusty traffic as the lot emptied out onto Route 28.

Josh’s dad stood up in front of the bus and asked, “What does everyone think? Into town to catch the sights, or back to the camp for some swimming? I’d like to have some batting practice, but I think we’ll wait until tomorrow morning and get our groove for the finals tomorrow afternoon.”

Almost everyone agreed that they’d rather go back and swim, so, despite Josh’s pleading, the bus headed away from town when they reached Route 28.

“Aren’t you tired of the Hall of Fame?” Josh’s dad asked.

“It’s not just that,” Josh said. “It’s the town. Ice
cream, Doubleday Field, the shops. It’s Cooperstown, Dad. It’s the mecca of baseball.”

“No more souvenirs,” Josh’s dad said. “Enough already. You can take the shuttle bus if you want to go that bad.”

“Dude,” Benji said, “can we give it a rest? I am so sick of that old bag’s face. Let’s swim.”

Josh didn’t say anything. He reached up into the luggage carrier and pulled a copy of
Watership Down
from his bat bag before sitting down in the window seat.

“You’re just going to sit there and read about rabbits?” Benji said with a look of disbelief as he took the seat beside Josh.

Josh considered him for a moment before he said, “If I tell you something, can you keep a secret for a change?”

“A change?” Benji said, screwing up his face. “I’m like the Finks, dude.”

Josh blinked. “The
Sphinx
? You mean the Egyptian Sphinx, the monument that’s guarded the secrets of the pyramids for thousands of years, right?”

“I mean whatever keeps secrets like no one else,” Benji said, raising his chin. “That’s me.”

Josh took a deep breath and said, “Jaden and I have a plan.”

“What plan?” Benji asked.

“The plan I want to tell you about that I want you to keep secret.”

“When did you come up with a plan?” Benji asked.

“The day you dumped your ice-cream cone.”

“With Jaden?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not telling me until now?” Benji asked.

“It’s a secret.”

“Not from me,” Benji said. “You don’t keep secrets from me.”

“I’m not. I’m telling you.”

“Because the plan has obviously failed,” Benji said, poking his thumb in the direction of the sky where the helicopter had disappeared. “Mainly because you didn’t have the Heavy Hitter in on it. What were you thinking?”

Josh told him how Jaden was supposed to be getting inside information so they could catch Myron in the act of paying off Seevers.

Benji cleared his throat and gave Josh a somber look. “Did you ever think maybe she’s just tricking us? Like a double agent? One of those spies who pretends to be on your side but really they’re spying on
you
.”

“Pretending to go along with us but really protecting Mickey Junior?” Josh asked, shaking his head, even though he worried about the same thing. “Come on, Lido. She told me all about who the umpire is and why he’s doing this.”

“That’s what double agents do,” Benji said. “They give you a little bit here and there to keep you thinking
they’re on your side. What about that article she wrote in the Syracuse paper all about the Comets? I thought she was supposed to be here to do stories on our team. Heck, she and her dad rode the team bus down here with us.”

“She writes what they ask her for,” Josh said.

“Did they ask her to fly around in a helicopter with surfer boy?” Benji said.

“You don’t think she’d lie to me just to keep me quiet, do you?” Josh asked. “I don’t think she’d do that, but then I see her with those guys and…I don’t know, I can’t help getting this awful feeling that she’s just tricking me.”

“Dude, women are capable of anything,” Benji said. “I told you that all along. You’ve got to know them to manage them properly. And, can I be honest?”

Josh nodded.

“It’s your face,” Benji said somberly. “That guy’s looks like some Greek statue and yours is like a Halloween mask.”

“Forget my face,” Josh said. “You want to win this thing, right?”

“Of course,” Benji said, “but I can’t believe you kept this secret plan from me.”

“So, what are we going to do?” Josh asked.

“You’ve got to tell your dad,” Benji said.

“No,” Josh said, whispering and hushing Benji with a finger to his lips. “I told you, it’s a secret.”

“But he could help,” Benji said in a whisper.

“No, it would only make it worse,” Josh said. He told Benji the deal about Myron’s threat to Josh’s father, humiliating him in the media and destroying his sponsorship with Nike. If the Titans lost, they’d still have a chance at another one-year sponsorship, but if his dad’s credibility was destroyed, everything would be ruined.

“Why?” Benji asked.

“It just would,” Josh said. “Stop asking.”

“Okay then,” Benji said, leaning close so Josh could hear him whisper. “Then there’s only one thing we
can
do.”

“What?” Josh asked.