Sunday afternoon, Carter was sneaking a brownie from the kitchen when the doorbell rang.
“Can you get that, Carter?” his mother called from upstairs. “I’ve got an armful of laundry.”
Carter shoved the brownie into his mouth and hurried to the door. When he saw Ash on the other side, he almost choked.
“Hey.”
Carter swallowed hard to clear the thick chocolate wad from his throat. “Hey.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. “So, can I come in?” Ash finally said.
Carter flushed. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
Ash stepped inside. Carter closed the door and led the way into the living room. Ash sat down and looked around. He pointed to a photograph on a nearby shelf.
“Is that the guy who used to live in my house?” he asked.
The photo was of Carter and Liam, arms around each other’s shoulders. It had been taken last season, just after they’d won the Regional Championship game. They were both in uniform. Liam still had his catcher’s gear on.
Ash nodded as if he already knew the answer. “When Mom told me we were moving to this town, the first thing I did was check out your Little League,” he said. “I read about you guys all summer. I watched all the World Series games online and read the player profiles on the Little League website.” He jerked his chin at the photo. “He was your cousin or something, right?”
“He still is,” Carter said.
“Yeah, of course. That was dumb, huh?” Ash went to the shelf and picked up another photo, this one of the whole All-Star team. “Most of these guys will play again this year, right?”
Carter shrugged. “I guess.”
“And they’ll be All-Stars again, too. At least that’s what your coach, Mr. Harrison, said. But you’ll be missing a key player.” Ash stabbed a finger at Liam’s image. “He’s gone. That’s where I come in.”
He sat back down, leaned forward, and stared intently at Carter. “I want to be your catcher this year. I think you and I would make a good team. We worked okay together yesterday anyway, and with practice we’ll only get better. In fact, I bet with you on the mound and me behind the plate calling the shots, we’ll take the title in Williamsport.”
“Oo-o-kaay,” Carter said slowly. To himself, he added, What planet is this guy from?
“Obviously, we can’t control whether we get on the same team,” Ash continued. “But just in case we do, we should start getting in a groove by practicing now.”
“I guess,” Carter said again.
Ash slapped his hands on his thighs. “Good. I’ll reserve an hour in the pitching tunnels for tomorrow night. My mom will drive us.” And then, without waiting for Carter to respond, he stood up and left.
Carter sat in his chair, blinking in confusion. “What just happened?” he asked the air.
“I was about to ask you that,” his mother said, poking her head into the doorway. “Was that Ash? What did he want?”
“He wanted to talk about baseball,” Carter replied.
His mother smiled. “Great! Glad you two are connecting.” She swept away with another load of laundry.
Connecting? Carter thought. Is that what we did? Because it felt more like being run over by a Mack truck!
He picked up the photo of him and Liam. Loneliness suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. He put the picture back on its shelf, hurried to the hallway, and put on his coat, mittens, and boots. “Mom, I’m taking Lucky Boy for a walk!” he called. He jangled his dog’s leash. Lucky Boy came running and the two set off together.
Snow had started falling, a gentle white powder that drifted softly all around him. Carter scuffed through it past the house between his and Liam’s—and it’ll always be Liam’s, never Ash’s, he thought bitterly—then darted into the woods.
The light inside the forest was dim, but Carter knew his way.
He had stayed away from the shelter ever since Liam had moved. But now, he strode purposefully through the snow, picking up his pace the closer he got. Lucky Boy trotted along beside him, his nose to the ground. And then they were there.
The hideout was exactly as they had left it, with the dark green box wedged up in the back. He dragged it out and spread one of the towels on the ground beneath the overhang. Then he sat down and watched the snow fall. Lucky Boy sat down, too, but he watched Carter, his liquid brown eyes seemingly filled with concern. Carter took off his gloves and stroked his dog’s silky ears.
“I’m all right, Lucky Boy. I’m—”
Crack!
The loud snap of a branch breaking sounded like a gunshot. Carter sat very still, listening. A second snap echoed up the trail.
Someone was coming. He quickly edged farther beneath the shelter and urged Lucky Boy to follow. He held his breath, certain that if he just kept still he wouldn’t be detected.
But whoever was out there was getting closer.
All at once, Carter understood. Our footprints! They lead right to the hideout!
He and Liam had sworn never to reveal their secret place to anyone. If he didn’t do something, it would be his fault that it was discovered.
Moving as quickly and quietly as possible, he scooped up Lucky Boy and slipped from the shelter, pulling the towel behind him as he did to obliterate his tracks. When he was far enough from the opening, he balled up the towel and threw it under the overhang. To his relief it landed far at the back, out of sight.
Then he put Lucky Boy back down, began walking briskly back down the trail—and almost had a heart attack, for there was Ash, coming straight toward him.
“What are you doing out here?”
Ash brushed the snow from his coat and hair. “I saw you take off into the woods and wanted to see where you were going.” He peered beyond Carter. “What’s up there, anyway?”
“Just more woods.” Carter pushed past Ash and headed back down the path. “Listen, want to come back to my house for some hot chocolate?”
After what seemed like an eternity, Ash turned back and said, “Nah. I’ve got homework to finish. See you at school.”