Chapter 8: In a Pickle

Here's where the whole adventure of getting the ball back begins. Please enjoy!

A few days later, all of the boys were better and back on their feet. They swore of doing something as stupid as what they did that night at the fair, and I was proud of them. We bought a new baseball at the drug store and went back to the sandlot.

Kenny was the pitcher this time, and I played on second base. As usual, Benny was the batter, and I had never seen a more determined face than his in my life.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Kenny threw the ball, and Benny's bat hit it so hard I thought it was gunfire. The ball went flying, but the outer part came off and the guts landed into Scotty's mitt.

We all stood around it in shock.

"Wow!" someone said.

"Come on, Benny man," said Mikey. "There's probably two or three guys in history that busted the guts out of a baseball. Must be an omen."

I nodded in agreement.

"All it means is that we can't play no more," Benny replied. "I mean it's only twelve o'clock, and I just ruined the whole day for us."

"No you didn't," I told him. "That's the most amazing thing I ever saw."

"Yeah," Kenny agreed.

"Anybody got any money?" Benny asked.

"No," the rest of us said in unison.

"Then it ain't OK. 'Cause now we can't play no more."

"Yeah we can," Scotty piped up.

"What? You got any extra cense lying around at home, Smalls?"

"No, but I've got a ball."

"Go get it then!" the rest of shouted.

Scotty took off.

"See?" I told Benny. "The day ain't totally ruined."

"No. I guess it can't," he smiled as he held my hand. "It can never be ruined when you're around. You've some kind of sunshine in you that knows how to put a smile on everyone's faces."

Scotty soon came back shouting, "Hey, guys! I've got it. I've got the ball!"

"Great," Benny said. "Your ball, you're ups."

"Okay."

Benny and I went back to our positions on the field. Scotty missed the first pitch. "You can do it," I whispered.

Scotty swung the bat, and the ball went flying. We all started cheering as Benny went to try to catch it. The ball soared until it was over the fence and into Beast's backyard.

Other than him, I was the only one who noticed.

"Smalls! Smalls! Smalls!" they started cheering, but I cut them off.

It would've been a day of victory for having a good swing, but something was bothering Scotty.

"Smalls, you forgot to turn," Ham commented as he approached the fence with the rest of us. "You go to third base! What is he doing?"

"Maybe the shock of his first homer was just too much for him," Bertram concluded.

"We got to get that ball back," Scotty mumbled.

"Good one, Smalls," laughed Ham.

"Hey, forget about it, man," said Benny. "Let's get another ball."

"No, you don't understand!"

"Sure, we do. You feel bad 'cause you belted a homer. Now we can't play no more."

"No, you don't understand! That wasn't my ball!" Scotty shouted at us.

Everything seemed to freeze as Benny and I looked at each other in shock.

"What do you mean, that wasn't your ball?" Mikay asked as he pushed up his glasses.

"It was my stepdad's," Scotty stammered. "I stole it from his trophy room. It was a present or something. Somebody gave it to him. We gotta get it back. He's gonna kill me!"

"Ohh," Mikey groaned. "Listen to me, Smalls. It's a matter of life and death. Where did your old man get that ball?"

"What? I don't know. Some lady gave it to him."

We all started muttering in confusion.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Some lady?"

"Yeah. She even signed her name on it," said Scotty. "Some lady named...Ruth, Baby Ruth."

"Babe Ruth?" the rest of shouted.

The guys then ran up to the fence and peeked over the fence. Within a few seconds, they were screaming bloody murder as they all came runner back to where they were.

"The Beast got it," Kenny cried.

"You're dead as a doornail, Smalls," Timmy said.

"You're dead as a doornail, Smalls," Tommy repeated.

"You mean to tell me that you went home and swiped a ball that was signed by Babe Ruth, and you brought it here and actually played with it?"

"Actually played with it?"

"Yeah, but I was gonna bring it back," Scotty responded as if he wanted scream.

"But it was signed by Babe Ruth," Mikey reminded him.

"Yeah. Yeah, you keep telling me that. Who is she?"

"What?" someone said.

I knew Scotty didn't know who Babe Ruth was.

"The Sultan of Swat," said Kenny.

"The King of Crash," Bertram piped up.

"The Colossus of Clout," Timmy said.

"The Colossus of Clout," repeated Tommy.

"Babe Ruth!" the rest of us shouted as Benny rubbed his temples.

"The Great Bambino!" Ham said with wide eyes.

"Oh, my God! You mean that's the same guy?" Scotty asked.

"Yes!" the team nodded.

"Smalls, Babe Ruth is the greatest baseball player that ever lived," Benny explained. "People say he was less than a god but more than a man. You know, like Hercules or something. That ball you just aced to The Beast is worth, well, more than your whole life."

Scotty dropped down on his knees and said, "I don't feel so good."

"Uh-oh, fan him," I commanded. "Give him air, give him air."

Everyone else used their baseball caps as I used my glove to fan him. Mikey used his glasses, and I laughed on the inside.

"We have to get that ball back," Scotty whined.

"When does your old man get home from work?" Benny asked.

"He's gone on business," Scotty replied. "Out of town. But he could be back anytime."

"All right. Find out when," said Benny. "And, guys, spread out and look for bottles and cash 'em in. We need 98 cents. We gotta buy us a ball."

"Yeah!" the rest of us shouted in excitement.

"Hey, Benny," I said. "I've got a few coins at home that I can give."

"Excellent," he smiled.

Once we all had enough money for a new ball we went straight to Vincent Drug and bought a ball. Then we dashed out of the store and Benny wrote "Babe Ruth" on the ball to be displayed as the real thing until we got the other ball back.

"I don't know, Benny," said Bertram. "That looks pretty crappy."

"It doesn't matter what it looks like," Benny replied. "His mom will never know the difference. This'll just buy us some time, you dorks."

We were in a pickle, for sure, but I didn't want Smalls to get busted for swiping his stepdad's baseball. I was willing to help out anyway I can.

Thanks for reading. I'm sorry for taking so long to write this, but it wasn't easy. I'll get the next chapter up soon.