Missing in Action by Dean Hughes Page A

6
    â€œDO YOU CARE IF I play in the infield tonight?” he asked Gordy.
    â€œShoot, no,” Gordy said. “Give it a try. You can’t be any worse than Dwight. Play second base.” Then he yelled to Dwight, “Play right field for a while. The Chief’s going to give second a try.”
    â€œHey, I’m a second baseman,” said Dwight. “I don’t like the outfield.”
    â€œIt don’t matter. Just trade for a couple of innings.”
    â€œWho made you the boss?” Dwight asked, but he was already walking backward, giving way.
    â€œI ain’t the boss. I never said I was. But fair is fair, you know what I mean? We might as well trade sometimes.”
    But Gordy was the boss. He knew it and so did everyone else. He was one of the captains who chose the teams every night, and his team always won. Healways said he got first choice because he’d won the night before, and then he started by choosing Lew. Lately, he had started choosing Jay right after that.
    Jay wanted to remember all the stuff Ken had taught him about fielding ground balls and throwing to first. Ken had been helping him practice his hitting, too. His stance was better, and he was learning not to swing at bad pitches. He had cracked a few long ones out at the farm.
    He didn’t have any ground balls come his way in the first inning, but he got up in the bottom of the inning and poked a nice line drive over the shortstop’s head. Gordy would have stretched the hit into a double, but Jay didn’t take any chances, even though he was pretty sure he could run as fast as Gordy.
    â€œHey, Chief, way to go,” Gordy was shouting. “That’s the best swing you’ve taken all summer.”
    Jay had driven in a run, too, and then he scored as the other guys kept hitting. When he returned to the field, right off, Albert topped a ball and sent a slow grounder toward the right side. Jay charged the ball, got low, watched it into his glove, spun and set his feet, and then threw to first.
    The throw was a little high and Henry had to reach for it, but he made the catch. “Out!” Henry yelled, and so did Gordy, who was pitching. Albert thought he had beaten the throw, but all the guys in the field told him to get off the base, and his own team didn’t arguemuch. Everyone except Albert knew he was out. Albert mumbled a few cuss words, but then he gave up.
    Gordy walked over to him. “Hey, Chief, where’d you learn to do that? No one around here—except me—ever charges the ball like you’re supposed to.”
    He didn’t answer, but he was smiling a little. And in the next few innings, he handled most of the balls hit to his side. He bobbled one that he should have made a play on, but he made some good stops, and his throws got better and better.
    When nine o’clock came, he didn’t stop playing. He’d been pushing his time a little later pretty much every evening he played, and Mom hadn’t been watching quite so closely as she had at first. She had met some of the guys he played with, and Grandpa was always saying they were okay. She seemed a little more settled down, too, not in such a bad mood all the time.
    When the game broke up, it was almost ten o’clock. He and Gordy walked back through town. “What’s going on, Chief?” he asked. “How come you’re getting so good?”
    â€œI’m not that good.”
    â€œBetter than most of the guys. Have you been practicing or something?”
    â€œA little.”
    â€œWho’s teaching you?”
    He wasn’t going to talk about that. Gordy had found out that Ken was working for Grandpa, and he had said how bad that had to be, working with a Jap. Jay hadn’t really agreed with him, but he hadn’t dared to say that he didn’t mind it too much.
    â€œMy dad taught me a lot about baseball before he went into the navy,” he said. “I’ve