The Lucky Baseball Bat by Matt Christopher Page B

balance enough so that the ball struck the fingers of his glove and slipped right through. Bang! On his chest again, barely missing his throat. The ball dropped to the grass and bounced away.
    Marvin turned, tears choking him. It was the same boy who had earlier made a nasty remark to him.
    “So it’s you again,” the boy said. “With a glove, too!” He laughed. “Even with a glove you miss them. Why don’t you go home and stay there? We don’t want any farmers on this team!”

3
    T HIS time when Marvin and Jeannie went home there was no Barry Welton around. Marvin was glad Barry had not seen how foolish he looked on the diamond.
    “I’m glad you came home, children,” their mother said, as she saw them coming through the hall into the kitchen. “We’re almost ready for supper.”
    Then she caught sight of the bat and glove Marvin was carrying. Her mouth made an oval. “Where on earth did you get those things?” she cried.
    “A big boy by the name of Barry Welton gave them to me,” Marvin said, and told his mother what had happened. She seemed surprised, but quite happy about Barry Welton’s gift to Marvin.
    The cellar door opened and Marvin’s tall, husky father came in and stared at the bat and glove, too. Marvin had to tell all about it again. He left out one thing, though. He didn’t tell them he was going to give the bat and glove back to Barry.
    He did not feel like eating much for supper, but once he started his appetite improved. He had another helping and almost finished it before he caught his mother looking at him strangely. He slowed up but it was too late.
    “Marvin, what’s your hurry?”
    “I’m sorry, Mother,” he said. He didn’t want to tell her he had baseball on his mind.
    Marvin went outside after supper, and sat on the front porch in the shade. He expected Jeannie as soon as she finished helping Mother with the dishes. For a minute he got to thinking about Jeannie. If she had been a boy everything would have been all right. They could play baseball together, and get a lot of practice, and chum around like real pals. You can’t do those things with a sister, he thought, even though Jeannie tried to be like a boy with him.
    He didn’t know how long he sat out there thinking. But all at once he heard leather heels clicking on the sidewalk. They were coming from down the street, and even before he looked to see who was making the sound, he knew who it was. It was Barry Welton.
    “Hi, Barry!” he greeted when Barry got closer. It was hard to smile.
    “Hi, Marv,” Barry answered. “Taking it easy?”
    Marvin nodded. “Wait a minute, Barry,” he said, and went into the house. “I’ll be right back.”
    He got the bat and glove and brought them out. “Here,” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Take them back, Barry. They’ll never let me play baseball around here!”
    Barry frowned, then a grin came over his face. “Shucks, now, pal. Don’t go acting like that or you’ll never play ball! Have you got a ball?”
    “In the house,” Marvin said, wondering what Barry was driving at.
    “Get it. We’ll play a little catch.”
    Marvin ran into the house, full of excitement. The ball was in the closet where he kept all his things. He brought it out and tossed it to Barry.
    “Let’s go out to the side of the house,” Barry said, “so that we won’t be throwing toward the windows. You get over there and I’ll have my back toward the street. Just make sure you don’t throw any wide balls!” he laughed.

    “I’ll try not to,” Marvin said, and they started throwing the ball back and forth between them, Marvin using the glove, and Barry barehanded. Marvin thrilled at the expert way Barry was catching the balls, pulling his hands down and away with the ball. He tried to do the same. Only, with the glove, he didn’t have to do it so much.
    They played about fifteen minutes, then Barry said he had to move along. He’d see Marvin tomorrow. In the meantime