because it’s brand new to you. Not to me, though I’ll never get used to it. Go ahead,he’s waiting. I’ve got things to do, anyway.” He turned and headed for the porch.
“See you later, Terry,” Mick said.
“Sure, Mick.”
Terry opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. He closed it and saw Mick running across the lawn toward the kid
who was waiting for him. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw the kid smile.
Connie met him as he stepped into the house. Even though she was three years older she was only an inch taller than her athletic
brother.
“Who’s the kid with Mick?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Mick didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask him.”
“Where are they going?”
“To the ball field. Their team’s practicing.”
He started past her and she grabbed his arm. Her eyes were hard as she looked at him. “I know you want to play, Terry. Why
didn’t you go with Mick?”
He reached over and gently lifted her hand from his arm. “Because I’m black, my dear sister, and that other kid just don’t
like black.” A smile cracked his face. “You’ve heard of
that
before, haven’t you?”
Connie didn’t flinch. “Maybe that kid’s the only one who feels that way. There are other black families in this town.”
“I know. But that kid is sure to have friends, and his friends are likely to go along with him. You should’ve heard him. ‘Who’s
the “Negro” kid?’ he asked Mick inthat tone they use and loud enough so I can hear. Right away I pegged him. He’s a leader, Connie. He’s the type guys follow.”
“You’re just guessing, Terry. You don’t know for sure.”
“Okay, I don’t know for sure. But I’ll bet on it.”
The sun was dropping toward the western horizon when a knock sounded on the door. Mrs. Delaney answered it.
“Terry, it’s Mick,” she said.
Terry left the TV set where he had been watching a sports program and met Mick at the door. Mick’s hair was tousled and his
face shiny with sweat.
“Hi, Terry,” he greeted him. “Got some news for you. We need an outfielder.”
Terry crossed his arms. “Don’t look at me,” he said.
“But you said that you’d like to play!” Mick exclaimed. “And there’s nobody else. Come on, Terry. Please come to our next
practice. I’ve told Coach Harper about you.”
Soft footsteps sounded behind Terry and he looked over his shoulder. The warm, pleasant face of his father grinned at him.
“Hi, Mick,” Mr. Delaney said. “I heard what you said to Terry. I think it’s a good idea.”
“What about that kid who was here earlier?”
“Tony Casterline? He can lump it for all I care!”
Terry laughed. Still, he wasn’t sure hewanted to join a team on which even one member had a grudge against a black boy’s playing. And, as he had said to Connie,
there could be others.
He finally agreed, however, when Dad, Mom and Connie put in their nickel’s worth. He would give it a try, at least. Who knew
but what his playing — if he could only perform well — might make Tony Casterline forget his prejudice and turn him into a
friend? Such things happened. If only his arm were stronger…
The next afternoon Mick stopped at the house. Together they walked to the ball-field where Terry was introduced to Coach Don
Harper and the members of the Forest Lakers baseball team. Some nodded their greeting, some shook hands. Tony Casterline was
one of the former.
Terry couldn’t help but feel conspicuous. He was the only black boy in the group. He noticed, though, that there was another
boy whose skin was darker than the others, whose features suggested a nationality from, he guessed, a country in South America.
The boy’s name was Caesar Valquez.
Terry wondered briefly how Caesar was accepted when he had first come to Forest Lake. Or was he born here?
“Okay, guys,” Coach Harper said, carrying a bat and ball to the plate. “Outfielders, hustle out there. Terry, get out
“See you later, Terry,” Mick said.
“Sure, Mick.”
Terry opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. He closed it and saw Mick running across the lawn toward the kid
who was waiting for him. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw the kid smile.
Connie met him as he stepped into the house. Even though she was three years older she was only an inch taller than her athletic
brother.
“Who’s the kid with Mick?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Mick didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask him.”
“Where are they going?”
“To the ball field. Their team’s practicing.”
He started past her and she grabbed his arm. Her eyes were hard as she looked at him. “I know you want to play, Terry. Why
didn’t you go with Mick?”
He reached over and gently lifted her hand from his arm. “Because I’m black, my dear sister, and that other kid just don’t
like black.” A smile cracked his face. “You’ve heard of
that
before, haven’t you?”
Connie didn’t flinch. “Maybe that kid’s the only one who feels that way. There are other black families in this town.”
“I know. But that kid is sure to have friends, and his friends are likely to go along with him. You should’ve heard him. ‘Who’s
the “Negro” kid?’ he asked Mick inthat tone they use and loud enough so I can hear. Right away I pegged him. He’s a leader, Connie. He’s the type guys follow.”
“You’re just guessing, Terry. You don’t know for sure.”
“Okay, I don’t know for sure. But I’ll bet on it.”
The sun was dropping toward the western horizon when a knock sounded on the door. Mrs. Delaney answered it.
“Terry, it’s Mick,” she said.
Terry left the TV set where he had been watching a sports program and met Mick at the door. Mick’s hair was tousled and his
face shiny with sweat.
“Hi, Terry,” he greeted him. “Got some news for you. We need an outfielder.”
Terry crossed his arms. “Don’t look at me,” he said.
“But you said that you’d like to play!” Mick exclaimed. “And there’s nobody else. Come on, Terry. Please come to our next
practice. I’ve told Coach Harper about you.”
Soft footsteps sounded behind Terry and he looked over his shoulder. The warm, pleasant face of his father grinned at him.
“Hi, Mick,” Mr. Delaney said. “I heard what you said to Terry. I think it’s a good idea.”
“What about that kid who was here earlier?”
“Tony Casterline? He can lump it for all I care!”
Terry laughed. Still, he wasn’t sure hewanted to join a team on which even one member had a grudge against a black boy’s playing. And, as he had said to Connie,
there could be others.
He finally agreed, however, when Dad, Mom and Connie put in their nickel’s worth. He would give it a try, at least. Who knew
but what his playing — if he could only perform well — might make Tony Casterline forget his prejudice and turn him into a
friend? Such things happened. If only his arm were stronger…
The next afternoon Mick stopped at the house. Together they walked to the ball-field where Terry was introduced to Coach Don
Harper and the members of the Forest Lakers baseball team. Some nodded their greeting, some shook hands. Tony Casterline was
one of the former.
Terry couldn’t help but feel conspicuous. He was the only black boy in the group. He noticed, though, that there was another
boy whose skin was darker than the others, whose features suggested a nationality from, he guessed, a country in South America.
The boy’s name was Caesar Valquez.
Terry wondered briefly how Caesar was accepted when he had first come to Forest Lake. Or was he born here?
“Okay, guys,” Coach Harper said, carrying a bat and ball to the plate. “Outfielders, hustle out there. Terry, get out
Similar Books
