looked around. Other than the long gravel drive, he saw nothing except thick woods heavy with vines and brambles.
After a particularly nasty patch of thorns forced him deeper into the woods and out of sight of the gravel road, he found himself without a marker of any kind. He listened but heard only birds twittering and an airplane high overhead, which told him nothing. Hot frustration with a froth of fear bubbled up inside as he asked himself how he could get lost in a woods so close to the middle of a town. He turned and tried to retrace his steps to get back to the driveway, pushing through briars and thickets of close-knit saplings. Finally, the thick knot of vegetation opened into a cool wood of towering trees.He crossed a gurgling stream and climbed its far bank. When he reached its lip, he saw something through the trees, rising up nearly above their tops.
As he drew closer, he began to use the trunks of massive trees for cover until he stood at the edge of an unkempt lawn, staring up at a weathered gray house with steep, pointy roofs, warped shutters, and gingerbread trim broken with rot. The back lawn of the old house sloped downward, and through the trees Josh saw the glint of sunlight on the river. The only sign of human life was the red pickup truck parked in front of a detached garage on the far side of the house.
Josh circled the house, darting from tree to tree. He passed beneath a porch that wrapped itself around the entire back of the house, then rounded the corner of the far side. He shivered when he saw a couple dozen crooked and crumbling gravestones poking their heads up from weedy beds in the side yard. When the back door swung open with a creak, Josh ducked for cover but peered out to see the umpire in a floppy pair of flowery swim trunks. On his face he wore dark sunglasses and a huge smile. Under his arm was a newspaper, a towel, and a bottle of suntan oil.
The umpire made his way down the hill toward an aging boathouse with a small dock jutting out into the water. When the umpire emerged from the boathouse carrying a gas can, Josh retreated to the front of the house, studying it for signs of life before taking off ata fast walk down the gravel driveway, happy to be getting out of there without having to trek back through the woods.
The long gravel drive wound through the woods, and the stone pillars had just come into sight when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him. Before he could react, the red truck appeared like something out of a bad dream, moving fast. It blared its horn. Josh jumped, stumbled, and fell directly in front of its path. The truck slid toward him in a spray of gravel and a swirl of dust.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WHEN JOSH OPENED HIS eyes, he saw the truck’s steaming nose just inches from his face. The umpire appeared over him, shaking a bony finger.
“Are you crazy? I almost wrecked my truck!” the man said, screeching like a ghoul with wide bloodshot eyes, pointing at the steaming truck. “Who are you? You see that sign? You’re trespassing!”
Josh scrambled to his feet. He froze for a moment, and the umpire reached to grab him. Josh turned and bolted.
The man hollered after him, but Josh never looked back. He hit the street and sprinted toward Main. When he got there, he glanced quickly over his shoulder, saw no one behind him, and ran straight for the Hall of Fame. He ran so hard that by the time he got there, he thoughthe’d be sick. In the alcove between the different wings of the building, he braced his hand on a bench and fell to a knee, breathing deep through his nose.
“Dude, where’ve you been?” Benji asked, poking Josh’s shoulder. “I found the Babe. You gotta go back in with me. I swear, you can see a resemblance.”
Josh looked up and squinted at Benji in the sunlight. “Resemblance to what?”
“Me,” Benji said, holding up his cell phone. “Me and the Babe.”
Josh took a deep breath and shook his head.
“I’m telling you,” Benji
After a particularly nasty patch of thorns forced him deeper into the woods and out of sight of the gravel road, he found himself without a marker of any kind. He listened but heard only birds twittering and an airplane high overhead, which told him nothing. Hot frustration with a froth of fear bubbled up inside as he asked himself how he could get lost in a woods so close to the middle of a town. He turned and tried to retrace his steps to get back to the driveway, pushing through briars and thickets of close-knit saplings. Finally, the thick knot of vegetation opened into a cool wood of towering trees.He crossed a gurgling stream and climbed its far bank. When he reached its lip, he saw something through the trees, rising up nearly above their tops.
As he drew closer, he began to use the trunks of massive trees for cover until he stood at the edge of an unkempt lawn, staring up at a weathered gray house with steep, pointy roofs, warped shutters, and gingerbread trim broken with rot. The back lawn of the old house sloped downward, and through the trees Josh saw the glint of sunlight on the river. The only sign of human life was the red pickup truck parked in front of a detached garage on the far side of the house.
Josh circled the house, darting from tree to tree. He passed beneath a porch that wrapped itself around the entire back of the house, then rounded the corner of the far side. He shivered when he saw a couple dozen crooked and crumbling gravestones poking their heads up from weedy beds in the side yard. When the back door swung open with a creak, Josh ducked for cover but peered out to see the umpire in a floppy pair of flowery swim trunks. On his face he wore dark sunglasses and a huge smile. Under his arm was a newspaper, a towel, and a bottle of suntan oil.
The umpire made his way down the hill toward an aging boathouse with a small dock jutting out into the water. When the umpire emerged from the boathouse carrying a gas can, Josh retreated to the front of the house, studying it for signs of life before taking off ata fast walk down the gravel driveway, happy to be getting out of there without having to trek back through the woods.
The long gravel drive wound through the woods, and the stone pillars had just come into sight when he heard the crunch of gravel behind him. Before he could react, the red truck appeared like something out of a bad dream, moving fast. It blared its horn. Josh jumped, stumbled, and fell directly in front of its path. The truck slid toward him in a spray of gravel and a swirl of dust.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WHEN JOSH OPENED HIS eyes, he saw the truck’s steaming nose just inches from his face. The umpire appeared over him, shaking a bony finger.
“Are you crazy? I almost wrecked my truck!” the man said, screeching like a ghoul with wide bloodshot eyes, pointing at the steaming truck. “Who are you? You see that sign? You’re trespassing!”
Josh scrambled to his feet. He froze for a moment, and the umpire reached to grab him. Josh turned and bolted.
The man hollered after him, but Josh never looked back. He hit the street and sprinted toward Main. When he got there, he glanced quickly over his shoulder, saw no one behind him, and ran straight for the Hall of Fame. He ran so hard that by the time he got there, he thoughthe’d be sick. In the alcove between the different wings of the building, he braced his hand on a bench and fell to a knee, breathing deep through his nose.
“Dude, where’ve you been?” Benji asked, poking Josh’s shoulder. “I found the Babe. You gotta go back in with me. I swear, you can see a resemblance.”
Josh looked up and squinted at Benji in the sunlight. “Resemblance to what?”
“Me,” Benji said, holding up his cell phone. “Me and the Babe.”
Josh took a deep breath and shook his head.
“I’m telling you,” Benji
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