Life Lesson #1097:
Play Catch With A Kid
"Hey Mister, look out!"
Steve turned to see a fly-away baseball soaring towards his head. On instinct, he raised his hand to catch it, ignoring the brief sting of leather against skin when it made contact. He looked up to see a gaggle of kids staring up at him in wonder, and he grinned at them while tossing the ball from hand to hand. "I think this belongs to you, huh?"
A dark-haired boy with a bat in his hand nodded numbly. Steve crouched down to reach his level and held the ball out to him. "What's your name, kid?"
"Anthony. But most people call me Lil' Tony."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?"
"'Cause my brother's Big Tony."
"Ahhh," Steve nodded his head a few times, "that makes sense. Did your brother teach you how to hit like that?"
Lil' Tony nodded vigorously, a grin growing on his face. "Uh-huh. And he showed me how to run and steal home. You wanna see, Mister?"
Steve smiled at the boy. "Of course. You want me to stay here and watch or you want me to pitch it to you?"
The kid tilted his head, considering Steve for a moment. "You ever play ball before?"
"A couple times when I was a kid, my buddies and I would play on the street, just like you're doing now."
"Hm, you any good at it?"
"Not really. I had a lot of trouble breathing when I was your age, so I didn't get to play too much with the other kids."
Lil' Tony shook his head. "Then maybe you oughta watch Joey here throw me a couple a pitches, just so you can remember what it's all about. Then maybe we'll see if we can get you a glove or something."
Steve bit back a grin at the seriousness in the boy's words and manner. "Well, all right then, coach. I'll just sit right here and watch you guys for a little bit, then."
The boys nodded and spread out along the street and the sidewalks, with Lil' Tony taking up position behind home base. Steve lowered himself to a nearby porch stoop and watched as the kids hollered and egged and cheered each other on. Leaning farther back, he could almost imagine that he was on a different street in a different state, where the cars were more novel and less numerous, where the only smells in the air were of summer and the distant rivers, where instead of Lil' Tony and his friends out on the streets, it was Steve and Bucky and the other neighborhood kids. Where he was home, and he was safe, and he was loved and not alone.
But then there were small hands pushing and pulling at him, dragging him out onto the street and dropping a brownish-white baseball in his hands, and Steve was grinning as he pitched the ball and watched it soar over his head while the kids chased after it. And all of a sudden, he didn't need to imagine anything, because right there on that street with those kids, he felt right at home.
A/N: Sorry for the delay, summer work for school was crazy and then everything was crazy and just, yeah. But as always, I hope you enjoyed this and I don't own anybody except for the kids playing street-baseball.
~Clara
