CHAPTER 7

I didn’t hear much more about the incident with Mark and Laura Lee and the shaving cream. Only that he was grounded for a week and ended up paying just five dollars in fines, since the books weren’t really damaged after all. Still, it was a stiff penalty to pay for something he didn’t do. Of course our team lost the game Mark wasn’t allowed to come to, just as I expected. Danny said that Mark was especially mad about that.

The school play was in two weeks, and Danny and I worked on the sets every day after school. These two girls—Patty Shore and Michelle Briar, who were in the play but didn’t have big parts—started to come by the art room, so we let them help us paint until it was time for them to go on stage. Then they’d rush away to the auditorium, saying that they’d be late and that their teacher, Mr. Landon, who was in charge of the play, would kill them if they missed their cues. Michelle had blue eyes that kept staring at Danny and curly blonde hair that bounced when she walked. But I really thought that Patty was nicer, even though she wasn’t as pretty. When she smiled at me I got the feeling that she could see inside my thoughts and liked what she saw.

A couple of times the girls came back after they’d rehearsed their parts. Then the four of us sat around and talked. Danny and I forgot about the softball game, but neither of us cared. Besides, now that we were winning more baseball games, Mr. Gordon held weekly practices at our school field. We’d just moved into fourth place. If we kept our position, we’d make the play-offs.

“Where have you been all this week?” Eddie asked me during our next practice as we jogged around in a large circle. “Turning into a hermit?”

“I’ve been busy working on the sets for the play,” I told him. I felt nervous, like he was going to get mad and think I’d been avoiding him, but he just smiled. Ever since we’d made up he’d been on his best behavior with me.

“Why don’t you take a break tomorrow?” he called over his shoulder as he sprinted ahead. “If you want, I’ll come over and we can practice your knuckleball.”

“Great!” I shouted.

“I’ll be over as soon as I get home from school,” he promised.

The next day Jeremy was just finishing his snack when Eddie came by.

“We’re going over to the school yard to work on my knuckleball,” I told Jeremy.

“Good,” he said, looking Eddie straight in the eye. “I’ll be busy around here and I don’t want you hanging around.”

Eddie flinched and looked away. I tried to think of something to say. Sure, Jeremy had every reason to hate Eddie for all the mean things he always said to him. Still, I felt embarrassed for Eddie. For some dumb reason I noticed how much bigger Jeremy was than Eddie. Jeremy was a good size for his age and pretty strong, even though he wasn’t athletic. But I don’t know why I was thinking like this. Jeremy almost never got into fights—unless someone pushed him too far.

I decided to make a joke out of it. “What are you doing that you need so much privacy? Making a bomb?”

“Ha ha,” Jeremy answered, not at all amused. “First, I’m going to water my plants, and then I think I’ll go bike riding.”

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. I knew he was going over to Tommy’s house. He never actually told me and I didn’t need to ask. I could just tell, by the way he’d slink off, then come home hours later, laughing and singing his fool head off.

“Have fun,” I called out as I grabbed my mitt from the hall closet.

Eddie didn’t say anything until the door closed behind us. “Wow, does your brother have some chip on his shoulder.”

I couldn’t let that go by. “Well, maybe he’s sick and tired of people making fun of him and calling him names.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, well, maybe he can’t take a joke.”

I didn’t answer. As far as I could see, Eddie was wrong. But anything I’d say about it wouldn’t change his way of thinking. We were friends again now, and he helped me in ways Jeremy never could in a million years.

The school field was empty except for a group of small kids playing soccer at the far end. We started working on my knuckleball. I was having trouble gripping the ball with my knuckles. Eddie kept showing me how to do it. I wondered how he managed it so well, since his hands weren’t much bigger than mine. He could throw every pitch—sidearm, curve, change-up, knuckle. Only he couldn’t throw as many strikes as I could. I guess that was why his father had been making me starting pitcher in the last few games. That and the fact that Eddie was a terrific first baseman.

I couldn’t get the knack of holding the ball correctly, then throwing it strong. Eddie was becoming impatient. His face was turning red. Finally he told me to hold the ball by the tips of my fingers. “Try it this way,” he said, and I did.

“Not bad,” he admitted when I’d thrown a few. “Maybe your hand is too small to throw from your knuckles. Keep doing it this way for now.”

“Okay,” I agreed, surprised that it was finally working.

“Dad had me throwing like this last year,” he said. “I guess I should have started you off this way.”

I threw him a few more knuckleballs. I was just getting the hang of it when I noticed some kids walking toward us. It was Bobby Reese and Jason Marconi, two of the boys who usually played in our softball game.

Eddie must have seen them, too, because a minute later he said disgustedly, “Here they all come. Now we’ll never have a minute to ourselves.”

“Don’t you want to play today?” I asked hesitantly. Somehow, I’d just assumed we’d play in the game when all the kids arrived.

“I thought you wanted to work on your knuckleball. I thought that’s what we planned to do today.” He sounded hurt, like I was disappointing him.

“Sure I do,” I said quickly. “Let’s go. We can work on it in my backyard.”

“Great idea,” Eddie said, suddenly cheerful again. “If you’re going to be our team’s starting pitcher, you have to have every pitch down cold.”

I smiled, glad that he wasn’t jealous of me anymore on that account. Being jealous of me was just plain dumb. Eddie was a better all-around player than I was. How could he not know that?

Jeremy was wheeling his bicycle out of the garage when we got back to the house.

“The kids started coming for the softball game,” I told him, “so we decided to come back here and work on my pitching in the backyard.”

“Watch out for my garden,” he said, and he was off.

Our backyard was pretty much like all the others in the neighborhood—a terrace outside the den for sunning and barbecuing, then a lawn with a few trees bordered by bushes. Only most of our lawn was taken up with Jeremy’s garden—at least the whole right side of it was.

“Look at that garden,” Eddie said, whistling through his teeth.

It was pretty impressive. Jeremy had planted lettuce, tomatoes, green peppers, and corn, all in large amounts.

“It’s Jeremy’s,” I said. “He’s real proud of it.”

“Oh.”

Eddie walked away from it as though it was suddenly a mess of poison ivy. “Sure takes up a lot of room, doesn’t it?” He laughed nastily.

I positioned myself next to the garden and waved my hand for Eddie to move farther down.

“Now be careful,” he said in falsetto. “Be sure not to step in your brother’s precious garden.”

I was sick and tired of his gibes, especially since I was suddenly afraid that he might try and ruin Jeremy’s garden out of spite. “That’s enough, Eddie,” I snapped. “Let’s just leave my brother out of this.”

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted saying them. Now Eddie would blow his stack and go home. But to my surprise he only shrugged his shoulders and said, “Let’s play ball.”

The first knuckleball that I threw was a strike. I was glad. And I was glad that I’d finally spoken up to Eddie and nothing happened.

After a while I got tired of pitching and we had a great time just horsing around. We made up a hit-and-tag game for two people—something like spud—and that’s when it happened. I hadn’t realized that we’d gotten so close to Jeremy’s garden until I heard a crunch and felt something like twigs under my feet. When I looked down I saw two of the young pepper plants were under my sneakers. I’d also knocked over a few stakes that propped up the tomato plants, which were just starting to grow.

“Oh, God, look what I did.” I jumped out of the garden as if my feet were on fire.

“Hey, with that kind of height you can become a high jumper,” Eddie said.

“It’s not funny,” I said. “Jeremy’s going to be real upset.” I knelt down to look at the plants. The stems of two tomato plants were broken and the peppers were badly damaged. They all refused to stand upright. I tried to pack dirt around them like I’d seen Jeremy do, but it didn’t do any good. They just flopped down toward the ground. I felt awful. Jeremy loved his garden and now I’d gone ahead and ruined four plants.

“I don’t know what to do,” I said finally, standing up. “Jeremy’s going to be real upset about this.”

Eddie patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, it’s not as if we did it purposely. You tried to be careful, didn’t you? Accidents always happen.”

Was he making fun of me? For a minute I wasn’t sure.

“I just wasn’t careful enough,” I said. “I mean, I was watching to make sure I didn’t step in his garden, but then we were having so much fun…” I finished lamely, knowing it was no excuse. I should have been more careful and I hadn’t been. Boy, was Jeremy going to be mad at me when he saw what had happened.

“I think you should give them a good watering,” Eddie said. “I mean, everyone knows water is good for plants and helps make them grow. I bet it will revive these sad sacks.”

I looked at him questioningly. “Do you really think I should?”

Eddie nodded firmly. “I really do.”

I got the watering can from the garage. Eddie took it from me. “Here, let me do it.”

Before I could say a word, he was dousing the injured plants but good. “That should do it,” he said.

I knelt down to see the results. If anything the plants looked worse—drooping and falling into the mud.

Eddie poked me and I almost fell into the whole mess. “Look,” he said, “I think you better leave them alone. Those poor plants look like they’re drowning.” He started to laugh.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I just stood there, not knowing what I could do. I mean, there was nothing else to do—now.

“It’s best to just forget about those plants,” Eddie advised. “They’re goners.”

When I didn’t answer, he said, “Hey, let’s go over to the school and get into the game.”

“Naw, you go,” I said. I really felt bad.

“I’ll stay here with you, if you like.”

I looked at him, surprised. “Okay. We may as well play some Atari.”

We sat down in the den and started playing Donkey Kong and then Pac-Man. At first I couldn’t concentrate and Eddie kept winning. But soon I forgot about the plants and we were neck and neck. I was so engrossed in the game that I didn’t hear the front door.

“Who’s there?” I called up when I heard footsteps in the kitchen.

“It’s me,” Jeremy answered.

“Oh,” I said and went back to the game. I heard Jeremy go upstairs to his room. A little while later I heard the kitchen door slam. Just then I remembered the plants. I looked out the glass door and saw Jeremy running toward me, his eyes popping, his lips twisted with rage.

“What happened to my plants?” he screamed as he ran into the den. “They were fine when I left. Now they’re all stepped on and drowning.”

I opened my mouth to speak but before I could say one word, Jeremy was standing over Eddie, his hands making fists.

“You ruined them, didn’t you? I know you did!” he screamed.

“Take it easy,” Eddie said, getting up from the couch where we were sitting. “It was an accident.”

Jeremy pushed him back down. “Yeah, some accident. I know about you and your accidents.” His face was all scrunched up. I thought he was about to cry.

“It was an accident,” I said. “We were playing ball and I stepped on your plants. I’ll pay you back so you can buy some new ones.”

Jeremy turned on me. “It’s too late to buy new plants. And stop lying to protect this little creep. I know he did it, just as I know he put the shaving cream in Laura Lee’s locker.”

At that Eddie jumped to his feet, ready to kill. “You take that back, Krasner,” he snarled at my brother.

“I will not,” Jeremy said. “I saw you with the shaving cream that day and I’m going to tell Mr. Helmsley so tomorrow.”

Eddie laughed at him. “Yeah, you and who else? He won’t believe a re-tard.”

“Stop calling me a retard.”

I saw Jeremy’s hands go around Eddie’s neck and I got scared. I pounded Jeremy on the back until he let go.

“Cut it out, both of you,” I yelled. “I stepped on your precious plants, Jeremy, and I already told you I was sorry.”

Jeremy fixed his eyes on me. He seemed to be figuring something out, then he said, “And you’ll be sorry, too.” He stomped out of the room.

Eddie left right after that and Jeremy and I each stayed in our own rooms until Mom came home. Then each of us, separately of course, went to tell her his side of the story. I told her how sorry I was, but that Jeremy had no right to turn on us that way.

Mom sighed deeply and brushed back a strand of hair from her forehead. I could see that she was tired from standing all day at the bank.

“I’m sorry it happened, too,” she said. “You should have told your brother about it as soon as he came home.”

“I know,” I agreed. “Only I forgot for the minute. Eddie and I were playing Pac-Man.”

“Your brother’s garden is more important than a game,” she said sternly. “It’s the only thing he cares about in this world. You know that.”

“You’re right,” I answered meekly. “I did offer to pay for new plants.”

“Jeremy says it’s too late for planting,” Mom said. “I think what really got him mad was that you tried to drown them.”

“We thought water was good for them. What do I know about plants?”

Mom patted my arm. “All right, Adam. Go wash your hands and set the table. I’ll talk to Jeremy after dinner.”

Dinner was a silent affair for the three of us, since Dad was working late. For once, Mom made no attempt to draw us into conversation. Jeremy ate his food even more noisily than usual. Sometimes I’d catch him staring at me, scowling. When he did that I’d just look down.

I helped Mom clear the table and then went down to the den to watch TV. There wasn’t any ball game on that evening so I flipped through the channels. Nothing. How did they expect a kid to get through the evening?

I decided to go to my room and put my baseball collection in order. As I walked up the stairs I heard Jeremy running and then his door slam. I took one look in my room and screamed.

“Mom, Mom, come here!”

“What is it, Adam?” She sounded frightened as she hurried up the stairs.

“Just look,” I said, making no attempt to stop the tears rolling down my face. “Just look what he did. That moron!”

We both stared down at my floor. Jeremy had taken all of my baseball cards and ripped them in half.