First of all, I want to say thank you to everyone who gave the kind messages of support. I notified my neighbor's family and they really appreciate them. So thank you so much. I explained why I decided to cut my break short in chapter 3 of my War of the Worlds story Rayne's War, so you can check that and my Hannah Montana fic out. I'd appreciate that too. It'll make me feel good. Well, chapter 2.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Sandlot. Just Sam.
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"Hey."
I was afraid to move. My nose- in fact, my whole head- was throbbing. It was like someone was beating drumsticks against my head. Believe me, it isn't a pleasant feeling.
I blinked and shook my head. This was completely insane. I cannot seriously be standing here with my Uncle Benny. This was completely illogical. I simply can't have it.
Uncle Benny actually looked different. For one thing, his mustache was gone. I came to the conclusion that he was younger. A lot younger. In his preteens of something. If it hadn't been for the barely-distinguishable Cuban accent, I would have never recognized him. Except for maybe his eyes. His dark brown eyes…
WHAT THE HECK?
"Are you okay?" Uncle Benny glanced hard at me. "You look kinda…"
"What? Odd? Flustered? Hot? Not that kind of hot. You know- it's freakin' a hundred degrees out here, a person's gonna sweat. What's your problem? Huh? Who the heck are you, anyway?"
Mom's right. I am over reactive. Or did she say hyper-active? I guess I'm both.
"Huh?" Great. We're getting somewhere.
"'Huh?' Just 'huh'? What's wrong with you, boy? Is that all you have in your vocabulary? I don't even know where the heck I'm at and all you can say is 'huh?' Don't ask me why I don't know where I'm at cause I don't know why I'm not at where I'm supposed to be at in this very second!"
When I said all that, I felt completely stupid. My friends tell me that I babble when I first realize that I like a guy. That CANNOT happen. This was Uncle Benny, for God's sake!
"Uhh-" he started, and then looked down at his shoes. He shuffled his feet, and glanced back up at me. "Before you start shouting again, I guess I should ask you what you're doing here."
I relaxed. "Okay." Then I realized what he said, and got fired up again. "WEREN'T YOU LISTENING TO MY DIATRIBE?"
I snickered a bit when I saw the look on his face. Now I had him scared. Perfect. I learned a long time ago that if a guy is scared of a girl, he'll co-operate.
"I- uhh-"
I smirked. "Yes?"
"I gotta go." He stuttered. He backed away, nearly falling over, and then jogged away. I noticed that he was just as fast a runner as he was in 1993. I smiled as I remember the look on his face again. I couldn't resist. I had to have some fun with this.
I glanced around again, and then looked down at myself. I figured out why I was feeling so hot, never mind the weather. I was still in my catcher's uniform, minus the helmet, which was on the ground next to my, along with my mitt. I bent down the pick up these items. Or at least, I tried to. My catcher's gear was suffocating me like it always does for some reason. I unbuckled the chest gear and pulled it off of my body. Then I peeled my wet shirt from my sticky stomach. I shuddered. I hate sweat. Which is ironic, seeing as I play outside all day in the hot sun.
I set my gear inside the dugout and un strapped my leg guards, watching Uncle Benny run down the street. After I finished freeing myself of the protective yet suffocation deathtraps, I set down my things and ran after him, all thoughts gone astray.
What does it matter? I never use my head anyway. Guess I am a dumb blonde.
I continued to follow Uncle Benny down the street until he slowed to a jog. I decelerated as well. My cleats made scratching noises against the ground. After Uncle Benny looked over his shoulder for the sixth time, I finally took off my shoes and freed my feet. Mom always said no one could make me wear shoes when I'm not playing ball for very long. The hot asphalt burned my feet, but I ignored it. My feet were strengthened from years of playing baseball barefoot. They made me wear shoes while I played in Little League, but that was as far as they could make me go. I got to keep my waist length dirty-blonde hair as long as I tied it up, and I got to play how I wanted. My speed of pitching, my style of catching. By now you should've figured out that I'm a control freak.
I hesitated as Uncle Benny stopped again. But he didn't look at me. He was glancing over at the house across the street. A moving van was sitting there. While he looked at the short kid carrying a box, I stole the chance and ran right past him. I don't think he saw me. I dove into the bush next to the house he was headed for. I glanced out a gap in the bush at Uncle Benny. He nodded at the kid across the street.
As he walked up the steps to his rather humble home, I popped out of the bush.
"Hi there!"
"Ah!" He leapt back, yet unfortunately did not catch himself on the porch. He pulled himself back up from the bush he'd fallen into and said "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Seein' what the locals are up to." I hopped out of my bush and sat on his porch steps. "So…how's life?" I asked him with a smile.
"Well, life is getting kinda weird since you started following me around." He answered.
"You callin' me weird?" I said with a raised eyebrow.
"No, no, I just…" he looked at me, then the ground. "Yeah, you are pretty weird."
"Makes sense," I sighed. He looked at me again. "What'cha mean?" he asked.
"I'm the oldest on my team, and I act mature because I'm captain. But I act like a total moron when I get hyper. I think I had too much pop this morning." I answered, staring at my nails.
"Team?"
"Baseball." I lifted my right hand to my mouth, and then put it down. My nails were torn and bloody, not to mention filthy, so now would not be a good time to be biting. I promised my self I would get out of the habit.
Uncle Benny was quiet for a moment, but then he burst out laughing. "Baseball?"
He gasped. "Baseball?" he nearly fell over, holding his stomach and laughing his head off.
I wasn't sure what I was failing to grasp. But I had a dang good feeling about why he was laughing. "I fail to see what is so funny." I said in my best cold, threatening tone.
He took several deep breaths, but sobered up when he saw the look on my face. "Sorry," he said a bit sheepishly, "But I'm not that big of an idiot to know that girls don't play baseball." He snickered.
"Well, technically it's referred to as softball, but-WHAT?" I screamed in his face.
"Girls don't play baseball."
I stood up. I've taken crap like this before, but not from Uncle Benny. He always said, "Never discourage someone from pursuing a dream."
Oh, yeah. One: I don't exist yet. Two: Now, Uncle Benny is a stupid teenage boy, like the ones I know at school. Cocky, arrogant, and an all right-around jerk.
This'll be fun.
"Listen here, buddy." I snarled, poking him in the chest, hard. "If we weren't in broad daylight, or even in front of your house, I'd kick your ass. But I can't. We'll just have to settle that tomorrow, when I do it on the baseball diamond. DA SVI-FRICKIN'-DANYA!" I turned and stormed away. "FINE!" he yelled back at me.
I turned around. "BY THE WAY-" he turned back at me. "MY NAME IS SAM! GOT IT? SAM! THAT IS WHAT YOU CALL ME, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN RODRIGUEZ!" That's when I turned around again and ran before he could question my about how I knew his name.
I hadn't gotten very far before I stopped my self from across the street when Uncle Benny lives. I looked at the kid carrying the boxes. I knew he looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I shrugged and walked over to him.
"Need some help?" I asked him.
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Look out! Sam's gonna run into Daddy in chapter 3.
By the way, "Da svi-frickin'-danya" is Sam's way of saying "Da svidanya" which is Russian for "Goodbye" I thought the phrase was funny. Anyway…please review. I'm glad y'all like it so far!
--V